Fellow Travelers

by Thomas Mallon

“What do you mean by ‘this’?” asked Miss Lightfoot, who knew perfectly well that Mr. Church had meant the sway of Senator McCarthy when he told her that “this could all end if Senator Morse just voted with the Democrats.” Should Oregon’s independent—formerly a Republican—throw in with the other side when it came time to organize the congressional session, then the chairmanship of McCarthy’s committee, and much of his power, would pass to the opposition. “Well, Morse won’t vote with the Democrats. He’s already said so,” Miss Lightfoot informed Mr. Church, whose more serious error had been to assume, from the general tenor of those at Mary’s party, that Miss Lightfoot, too, wanted all “this” to end. She did not. Nor, actually, did the Democrats, she now argued. “They don’t want to take over. They’d rather carp. Which is why they left the committee in the first place.” Mr. Church was shaking his head with forbearance, allowing Miss Lightfoot to overprove her point, when Hawkins Fuller brushed past them both. Leaning against the sink, Fuller took note of Mary’s sleeveless black dress and declared: “That appears to be a very cold shoulder.” Miss Lightfoot, already keenly stimulated, and wishing for a sprig of mistletoe under which to capture Fuller, tried to annex him to her own conversation. “Mr. Fuller, tell Mr. Church here how you’ve got to deal with the Democrats on Capitol Hill. Tell him how—” Fuller ignored her ardent grasp of his forearm. He was interested only in the la...