The Means Page 15

  “You just touched on why universities are so liberal. It’s the jaded professors. They think they’re smarter and more valuable to society than lawyers, doctors, and forget about the bond traders. But we live in a society that thinks the best classroom is the real world so the guys out there doing it are making the most money and the professors are so poor they have to wear tweed jackets with holes at the elbow. They think we should live in a socialist society where the government determines that a bond trader makes a pauper’s wage and that a university professor is our most distinguished position and is pegged at the highest wage.”

  “They’d still wear the tweed jackets.”

  “Designer tweed with fake holes.”

  Tom leans back, interlocks his fingers, and rests them on his stomach while he looks up at the ceiling. “I don’t want a fight with the unions. I want to connect with them. There’s no question the schools have a problem; that’s an objective fact. I just want to accomplish two things. Without getting into ideology or methods, I want everyone to agree there’s a problem to be solved and to feel motivated to solve it.”

  “No policy talk?”

  “I’m going to talk problem first, then inspiration.”

  “Inspiration? You want them to start believing in excellence?”

  “I know. Utopian. Look, I’m relatively new to this, much newer than you, but it seems to me that in the business of politics, ideology doesn’t matter that much. We’re basically the same animals; ideology is just how we arrange ourselves. It depends on what kind of house you grew up in, were you a young R or a young D.”

  Brand is a conservative thinker and he leans forward in disagreement. “Tom, I’ll give it to you straight because that’s the only thing I’m here to do. If you think we’re all basically the same, you’re way off the reservation. The differences are fundamental. A liberal thinks government is the best custodian of wealth. A conservative thinks it’s private enterprise. With few exceptions, a liberal is a person who has either given up on being rich or has decided he’s already rich enough. A conservative is trying to amass wealth.”

  “That’s fine, but I can’t say any of that. These people may fit your category but they don’t see it as the insult that you do. They won’t be millionaires but they’ll make fifty grand a year while teaching and fifty grand a year for life once they retire. That’s the plan they signed on for and they don’t want it threatened. They’re not thinking in terms of rich or not rich or free enterprise. They’re thinking in terms of security.” Tom’s still looking at the ceiling. He likes these talks with Peter. They see things differently enough that it makes for good conversation. “There are ways to preserve a lot of that security. Especially for the good teachers. Hell, the good ones should be rewarded with much more. I need to inspire them to want greatness. Just a percentage of them. They can start to break the ranks that way.”

  30

  “You ready?” asks Brand. Tom’s set for nine a.m. as the first speaker of the day, the union hoping for lower attendance at that time.

  “I am. Without saying the word competition, I want to remind them that it’s human nature to believe in competition.” Tom looks like a man on vacation about to walk to the beach for a swim. “We’re going to do something important here today.” Tom knows Peter is angry that he wasn’t involved in the speech writing and angrier still that he hasn’t even been allowed to read the speech. “Peter, I value you. I also know where you stand on policy. This isn’t a policy speech. It’s a human speech and it needs to come from only me.”

  Tom doesn’t ask for absolution and Peter doesn’t give it. Peter nods and they have a tense parting.

  The Raleigh Convention Center opened in 2008. It’s three levels, 150,000 square feet, and has a 32,000-square-foot ballroom where the NEA has three thousand chairs set up theater style and all the chairs are full at nine a.m. for the governor.

  Tom takes the podium to zero applause. He puts his hands on the podium and smiles as though this is exactly the greeting he enjoys. “Thank you for the warm welcome.” This gets a few laughs.

  His voice is calm and slow. “Y’all ever read any Vince Lombardi quotes? Whether you like football or not, and I know many of you do, they’re just the best things going. ‘Winning is not everything, but wanting to win is. Winning is a habit, and unfortunately so is losing.’”

  Tom takes a long pause to look around the room and connect with as many eyes as he can. His accent is extra folksy and Southern. He sounds like any man in the room. He continues, but in a voice that is faster and more harsh, “We are not winning. Our schools are not winning. Our children are not winning. North Carolina schools rank forty-six of the fifty states, this in a nation that has dropped to thirty-three in the world. Ladies and gentlemen, you are the custodians of a state education system that is the equivalent of a third world, underdeveloped country.”

  Tom lets the insult set and looks around the silent room. “I’m not talking about Republicans or Democrats, liberals or conservatives. These are just the plain facts. We have a major problem on our hands and are now under the threat of losing federal dollars.” He points to the audience in cadence with these last three words. He takes a breath and slows his voice back down. “Let me go back to Vince Lombardi. ‘Leaders are not born, they are made. Like anything else they are made through hard work, and that’s the price we have to pay to achieve any goal.’ ‘The difference between a successful person and the others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but a lack of will.’ ‘The measure of who we are is what we do with what we have.’”

  Tom takes another break. He wants this talk to come in simple, digestible bites. “Lombardi has a million of these but none of them is the best. The best one of all belongs to my daddy. When I was a boy he gave me some advice. He said, ‘Son, it’s not good to be a cocky person, but it’s good to be cocky about one or two things.’” The crowd is silent. “He was right.” So far there’s been no policy to boo about. “Now I was a pretty damn good lawyer, and I’m a damn good governor.” A few boos from the back of the room but few enough that individual voices are discernible. “Raise your hand if you feel cocky about our schools in North Carolina. Do you feel cocky about our standardized test scores?”

  No hands are raised. Tom waits an extra long time with all hands in laps to drive the point. This is a rebuke and the rebuke has been acknowledged and accepted. “I didn’t think so.” Tom has been getting a sense of the energy of the crowd. Some seemed to like the Lombardi stuff and he thinks now is the time. “Raise your hand if you want to feel cocky about our schools. If you think we can do better!”

  A few hands go up, which spring a few more, and for a moment momentum builds, then levels off at about thirty percent of hands. Many more would raise their hand but are not willing to show support for this governor.

  “You brave ones are the start of something great. We need to do better, people. We must. Today we are robbing the future of our children and that must stop. We need to reward our great teachers and we need to remove those that would cheat and throw our state into scandal. We must fix a system that is clearly broken and I am here to ask you to help do it now!”

  A few cheers start to go up from younger people in the crowd, people who were touched by Lombardi and have had their coffee. The cheers are then countered by boos, concentrated in the front left corner of the theater-style seating where the union leadership sits. Several stream an open-mouthed boo while pumping their arms with palms to the ceiling to say to others, Get up and boo.

  Tom waits while the sounds intermingle. This is the result he wanted. When it quiets he says, “We’re letting our children down. Doing better starts right here, here in this room with all of you. Muhammad Ali said, ‘I will show you how great I am.’” Tom looks around. “Show me.” He pauses, then says louder, “Show me.” Then in his loudest voice, “Show me how great you are!” Tom hadn’t been sure about usi
ng this part. On paper it felt overdone, but here it’s working.

  There’s some clapping and more booing. “The fault of these test scores does not lie with our children. You know where it lies. We cannot sit by for this.” Tom looks to the leadership of the union which is the source of the boos in the corner. He’s made the ground he wanted to make and he wants to end with a challenge. He makes eye contact with Terry Stanton who is the president of the North Carolina chapter of the NEA. “I leave you with one last Lombardi. ‘Show me a good loser and I’ll show you a loser.’”

  Tom keeps eye contact with Stanton an unnaturally long time then walks off the stage and the crowd is as silent as when he entered. He gets backstage where his nervous security detail flanks him and Peter Brand walks over to shake his hand. “Nice speech.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Interesting strategy.”

  “I realized five minutes into drafting it that a Republican governor can’t inspire them. I had to create a third person in the conversation that they can trust and believe in. And who can get away with insulting them. Who better than Lombardi?”

  “I actually like the one from your dad the best. Really your dad?”

  “No, that’s actually me, but it sounded better from my dad. I need to be only a messenger today.”

  “You’re becoming a real politician. In the best way.” Brand smiles. “And Ali. That was nice.”

  “I’m a Frazier fan myself, but that was a hell of a thing to say.”

  31

  It takes two days for Tom’s speech to the NEA to make national waves. At first it was covered by local media. Once the video footage got pickup on the Internet the national cable channels used it and it dominated the conversation through the Sunday morning political shows.

  Never before had anyone stood in front of a union meeting and told them they were robbing the future of our children. Never had anyone stood toe to toe with the union and laid the fault for the failure to educate at their feet. Never had anyone looked Terry Stanton in the eye and said show me a good loser and I’ll show you a loser.

  Tom is back in the national spotlight. The unions fund a television ad campaign painting Tom as a wealthy and immoral plaintiff’s attorney. The RNC funds a counter campaign praising Tom’s legal career, his pro bono and successful defense of the Darby brothers, and his commitment to a better North Carolina public school system. The Cumberland County cheating scandal is discussed in the RNC ad by a deep and scary voice, followed by a child’s voice asking for an opportunity to learn.

  The nastier the fight gets, the more the RNC digs in to support Tom and the more he is a national figure. The RNC conducts a poll finding Tom’s approval rating at sixty-six percent, one of the highest of any governor in the nation, and in a state that’s been trending Democrat. The RNC publicizes the results at every opportunity as a way of declaring de facto victory for Tom’s positions.

  Three months later Tom has a scheduled visit at the governor’s mansion from Benson Hill, the man who first vetted him at the Washington Duke. It’s a private meeting between the two of them. “Boy, did we back the right horse.”

  Tom nods. It’s a compliment but he doesn’t like to be made to feel like a puppet on Benson’s string.

  Benson lacks any ability to pick up on subtle responses. He’s like a one-way radio that can only send and not receive. He blazes on. “You’ve come a hell of a long way since our meeting at the Washington Duke. A hell of a long way.” Benson pats his belly with one hand the way he might after a good meal. “I can tell you that people are very pleased. Very pleased.”

  “Good, thank you.” No agenda was set for the twenty-minute meeting and Tom would rather not spend the time enduring condescending praise.

  “So pleased that I have something to discuss with you.”

  Thank God. “Do tell.”

  “How do you feel about running for the big job?”

  “It was a pain in the ass. This is great but I don’t know if I’m going to run again. It’s way too soon.”

  “I don’t mean reelection. I mean election. To the big job. The White House.”

  Tom smiles, not taking him seriously. This time Benson does pick up on the sentiment.

  “It’s not me asking, Tom. It’s the well-heeled powers that be around the RNC. They asked me to set up a meeting between you and Walter Shepard. He’s the most well heeled of the behind-the-scenes guys. No GOP candidate is going very far without him, and he seems to like you.”

  “When?”

  “ASAP. This week. Off the calendars, secret meeting, just you two, maybe me.”

  “Jesus, I’ve been here less than a year.”

  “Obama was in the Senate less than two. That’s how it works, these are early talks. Exploratory, just like when you and I first met. If you want to make a run on this level, things start now.”

  Tom spins his chair so he’s not facing Benson and he can concentrate. He’d prefer to leave the room but needs to finish the conversation. “Benson, I can’t begin to weigh this. They can’t possibly think I’m ready, or that I’d be ready in three years.”

  “The last person to run for president right out of his first term as governor and win was Jimmy Carter.” He holds up a hand to say, Bad example. “My point is that it’s happened. It can be done.”

  Tom is silent. He’s not processing the information.

  “Look, Tom, you’re good on the issues for the most part. You have plenty of chops on domestic policy. They’ll bring in foreign policy experts to get you up to speed on the other stuff. You’ll be well versed by the time you need to be.”

  “There have to be better choices than me. The president’s reelection team will call me inexperienced and they’ll be right. They’ll kill me on that.”

  Benson takes a breath. “Tom, you’re a great choice. I like you. Personally I like you, so I’m going to just tell you flat out. Beating Mason will be tough. Unseating an incumbent president is always tough and right now Mason’s approval numbers are strong. There are some quality GOP contenders who may sit it out four more years.”

  “So I’m a lamb being led to slaughter?”

  “Hell, no! Anything can happen. Especially three years from now. Look at what’s going on here in your state. This is the kind of thing that can spark national momentum and things turn in your favor.” Benson leans forward and talks in his quieter, confidential voice. “And a national run wouldn’t hurt you a bit. You remember you ran for governor thinking even if you lost, it would benefit your law practice. Imagine a national run for president. Even if you just kick it around in the early days. Put your toe in the water. You’ll be a goddamned household name, Tom.”

  Tom spins back to face Benson but is looking through him. Once again, the guy makes some sense. Tom starts searching through a lifetime of memories for embarrassing moments. What would the national media dig up on him?

  “Take the meeting, Tom.”

  Tom nods.

  “I’ll set it up. One hundred percent secret.”

  Tom nods again.

  32

  Tom can’t go to a restaurant, café, or grocery store without being recognized. In addition to the regular public appearances of a governor, most people have seen an ad with his face, paid for either by the RNC or the unions.

  Kenny Landers owns a private security business employing mainly army and marine veterans. He’s one of the largest GOP donors in North Carolina, has a net worth around six hundred million and has a mansion outside Raleigh that makes a good location for Tom Pauley and Walter Shepard to have a private meeting.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tom.”

  “Nice to meet you, Walter. I appreciate the RNC funds defending me on the air waves.”

  “Of course. Defending you and the position. It’s an important debate.”

  Kenny Landers is not present. A butler in u
niform answered the door for both men and led them to a study where he took a drink order. Walter arrived first and got a scotch. Tom was five minutes later and got a gin and tonic. Neither man sat in the chair behind the desk of the study. They each picked a wooden armchair set in the area before the desk.

  “I know Benson spoke to you. I’m here to reinforce to you our conviction that you’re a strong candidate.”

  Tom has a lot of questions. He doesn’t want to get interviewed by Walter. He wants to interview Walter. “What do you see as the downside of me getting in the race?”

  “Well,” Walter opens a palm in a here-you-go gesture, “conventional wisdom is that a sitting elected official who makes a run can face the risk of being viewed as abandoning his post. I think that’s mitigated here because the central issue of your administration is a national issue. The people in North Carolina who don’t support you will continue not to, either way. The people who do support you will want to see you carry forward with the issue on a national level, which of course includes North Carolina. They’ll continue to support you.”

  Decent answer, thinks Tom. “Okay, what else?”

  “Scrutiny. Like you haven’t seen yet. Anything I need to be worried about?”

  “I’m a plaintiff’s attorney.”

  Walter laughs. “We can work around that. Anything else?”

  Tom spins the ice in his glass. “I’m a pretty boring guy. Not much to talk about.”

  “I’m serious, Tom. Millions of dollars will be spent in pursuit of something to talk about.”

  Tom takes a sip. “There’s nothing, Walter. I’m human, but I pay my taxes and have never had a run-in with the law.”

  “Drugs?”

  “Pot in college and not since. And nothing other than pot and alcohol.”

  “Hookers?”

  “Nope.”