Excerpt from The Butcher's Son:
Excerpt from The Butcher's Son:
The Sunday arrived. On C.C.'s explicit instructions,
I had convinced Kevin to leave the scaffolding, tarps, and various paint
cans exactly as they were, despite the inconvenience to the homeless in getting
to the window between the kitchen and the dining room where the food was
dispensed. A lectern—the one Kevin used as a pulpit in the shelter's
makeshift chapel—was brought in for the chief's remarks, and strategically
placed for maximum visual effect in contrasting the freshly painted wall
with the drabness of the rest of the room. To spare the invited guests the
inconvenience of sidestepping the painting equipment as the homeless were
expected to do, tables were set up just inside the entrance for the food
service and everything prepared in advance so that the kitchen could in effect
be shut down before the fund-raiser began. For as little painting as had
actually been done, the smell of fresh paint was nearly overpowering.
C.C. was there, of course, glad-handing all and sundry
and making it clear that whatever success the event may have was totally
due to his own tireless efforts. I was a bit surprised by the turnout, and
by the representation from the media. I suspected it was due in part to the
reporters' speculation as to whether the chief would be able to present himself
as a real human being. For a man running for the office of governor of the
state, he had been rarely seen in public other than under the most strictly
controlled circumstances since the Dog Collar fire.
I noticed that, apart from the reporters and various
media people, very few attendees took more than coffee or punch from the
food provided. Had the sandwiches been caviar rather than tuna or ham salad,
I'm sure there would have been more attention paid to the extraordinary work
Kevin and his volunteers put into its preparation.
There was a stir when, about halfway through the scheduled
time set for the event, the chief swept into the room accompanied by the
rest of the family including Sue-Lynn and baby Sean. It did seem as though
the chief were making a very serious effort to appear congenial, and I wondered
if he may actually have taken McNearny up on his suggestion to hire a
professional humanizer. Kevin greeted them all, as he had greeted everyone
who came in and then, a few moments later, moved to the podium. The room
settled down, and he began to speak.
Once again, Kevin surprised me. He thanked everyone for
coming and then spoke about what the shelter meant to him and, most importantly,
to the homeless people it served. He was warm, and sincere, and
charming—qualities which, if possessed by his father, would have made
his election to the governor's mansion a much easier task.
At last, he introduced his father, and a loud round of
applause from the faithful and the turning on of lights for the TV cameras
accompanied the chief to the podium. He and Kevin shook hands warmly, and
then the chief did the unthinkable—he actually reached out and hugged
his son; an act which not only surprised the hell out of me, but obviously
out of Kevin, too.
Kevin left the podium and moved to the back of the room
to join Sue-Lynn and the rest of the family.
The chief waited for silence, and then began: "A man's
family…."
And at that point there was a tremendous explosion and
the freshly painted wall dividing the kitchen from the dining room moved
slowly forward into the room, disintegrating as it came.