Fellow Travelers

by Thomas Mallon

Senator Gore’s chief of staff came over to greet Hawk, displacing Tim from the circle of conversation. The new vantage allowed him to watch the almost formal way in which Hildebrand held Mary Johnson’s hand—a contrast to the easy exuberance of the arm Mr. Baumeister kept draped over Mrs. Phillips’ shoulders. “My mother,” Baumeister was telling Miss Johnson with a loud laugh, “didn’t feel completely keen on my going out with a divorced woman.” Mrs. Phillips laughed, too. “Jerry is an excellent companion. A lot more fun than the widower turned out to be.” “And I got her a free window sash from the hardware store!” Hawkins pulled Tim back into the group and away from an oncoming conga line whose members were shouting the defeated candidate’s campaign slogan, but adding the unheroic last lyric of the song from which it had come: “The whole town’s talking about the Jones boy…and he’s only nine days old!” On primary day the youthful challenger had lost by five to one. “Yes,” said Hawkins, “the hidden vote stayed hidden.” Senator Gore’s aide replied that the only thing Mainers now had to worry about was Nixon’s plan to vacation in the state.