Twenty-one Months (eBook)
384 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-4388-7 (ISBN)
Ali Niang is an Afropolitan Raleighite, a recreational painter, amateur photographer, Project Manager (PMP) and aspiring environmentalist. An accidental polyglot, he is the product of a West-African stay-at-home mother and career diplomat. Twenty-one Months, his debut novel was inspired in part by his childhood experiences as a boy and teen growing up in the Egyptian capital, Cairo and by his own civic participation and academic disciplines. The author holds a B.A. in political science with a minor in English from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and a master's degree in international studies (MIS) from North Carolina State University. As a certified Project Management Professional (PMP) and a Professional Scrum Master (PSM1), he makes his living with a leading Telecommunications company. The author's next literary project is the publication of his first collection of poems titled Letters. An aspiring environmentalist, he is the founder and Executive Director of a small 501©(3) nonprofit organization that advocates benignity toward the environment.
When Aaron Wade meets Savannah Green while volunteering for the OFA campaign, love blossoms amid voter registration drives, local campaign rallies, primaries, and the election's unforgettable storylines and milestones. When a surprise visit in midsummer derails their seamless romance, love, friendship and patriotism compete for Aaron's loyalty in a tale that takes readers from a lazy summer in the deep American south to the treacherous slums of Baghdad. Set mostly in North Carolina, a battleground state that separated the candidates by two percentage points in 2008, the novel exhibits a small-town southern charm quality along an international plot that travels wide to Europe, the Maghreb and the Middle East. Driven by their political socializations, complicated pasts and current affairs, the characters are multicultural with emotional demons to slay and lean on the promise of the campaign they support to bring closure to their own personal tragedies. Their emotional stories are twined together with the election's epic dynamics of war, foreign policy and revival of America's standing amidst a fragile and disenchanted international political economy. The novel cheers love, hope and civic participation. Twenty-one Months celebrates America's comeback, and the reinstitution of her democratic vistas post 9/11. The plot humanizes the other side of the conflict and reminds us of the unintended consequences of war. It compels us to look at ourselves with a different lens and ask hard questions. It begs for the consciousness, constructive disruption, and proactive participation of the American people in U.S. foreign policy. Twenty-one Months is a record of the times. It reminds us of traditional political norms. The novel looks back nostalgically at a momentous page in American history, at a much less divisive time, when America embraced hope and elected in overwhelming fashion the first African American president. His journey and triumph highlighted the best in American politics, captured the attention and interest of the international community and inspired millions of global citizens around the world. Befitting the election season, the novel is a fast and fascinating read for both the political pundit and the politically despondent.
Chapter 4
“FIRED UP!
READY TO GO!”
North Carolina Central University
“The Bull City”
Durham County
Late Afternoon
November 1, 2007
Election day was more than a year away. On a warm late autumn afternoon, cumulus clouds scattered about a vibrant blue canvas as the temperatures climbed to the mid-seventies. While it wasn’t exactly a shocker to the locals, the sudden break from the cold weather was welcomed.
Aaron leaned next to the open garage door and admired the polished chrome on his V-Twin Racing Street custom bike in the driveway. He was six feet two, medium build, slightly bow-legged, and weighed about a buck ninety, give or take a few, but he appeared considerably lighter. His brown eyes were kind and friendly, and he sported a classic Ivy League cut.
The short morning ride to work didn’t satiate his appetite, and neither could the long way home. It was the forty-minute ride to Durham he was eagerly looking forward to.
“Are we playing hooky, today?”
Aaron smiled showing his deep dimples. “I took half the day off,” he explained to his neighbor Ryan.
“I heard you take her out this morning. Couldn’t resist, huh?”
“Not with weather like this,” Aaron answered as he crossed the cul de sac.
“Don’t blame ya.”
“I’m really looking forward to my ride to Durham.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Campaign rally at NCCU.”
“I saw it on the news. He’s starting early, isn’t he?”
Aaron nodded. “Better early than late.”
“It’s going to be an interesting race next year, that’s for sure.”
Aaron smiled. “Interesting is one way to put it, especially for you Independents.”
“What can I say? We’ve got it rough, man.”
Aaron snorted with laughter. “What brought you home this early?”
“Ali is under the weather.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do? I’ve got an extra gallon of OJ,” he added.
“Thanks. Mindy’s got the fridge pretty stocked up.”
“Tell Alison I said get well soon.”
“Will do. She’s starting to come around.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Be safe out there, will you?”
“You bet.”
Aaron glanced at his watch. There was still plenty of time to cruise into the Bull City before the rush hour traffic.
. . .
North Carolina Central University, a historically Black college chartered in 1909, hosted the rally. News media satellite vans, buses, and trucks scattered about the LeRoy T. Walker Physical Education and Recreation Complex where the senator was scheduled to speak. The large parking lot just across the practice field was full to capacity, but Aaron was glad to find an area reserved for bikes and motorcycles.
From every direction, pedestrians converged on the fenced practice field. A local reporter and her cameraman conducted an interview by the entrance. At the outset, the rally had been planned as an indoor event, but by the look of things now, proceedings had been moved to the open practice field. A good crowd had gathered around the gates. An even bigger one had already made its way onto the field, around the stage, and up the metal bleachers.
The price of admittance was twenty-five dollars. It was a fundraiser, after all. For his modest contribution, Aaron was handed a blue and white campaign sign. Forty minutes later, a local reverend got on stage. When the prayer concluded, the crowd stirred in anticipation of the senator’s address. There were blue signs everywhere, and the words printed on them were “CHANGE WE CAN BELIEVE IN.”
Durham Mayor Bill Bell introduced the candidate. When he finally made it on stage, the crowd cheered him on for a while. On that warm November afternoon, the senator spoke about the issues concerning Americans all across the country. He started with Iraq and his primary goal to end the war that should never have started—the war he’d opposed as a freshman senator.
Aaron looked at his feet as emotions began to flare up in his chest. While Iraq had claimed his brother seventeen years prior, Andrew never ceased to age alongside him in a fictional sense. He would’ve turned forty-one this year—that much was fact—but anything beyond February 26, 1991, and the Battle of 73 Easting were mere additions of his very own creation.
As the senator addressed the crowd about the long-term implications of the conflict dividing the nation, Aaron felt a mixture of guilt, pity, and regret as he cast blame on the ongoing war for Zoe’s death. Iraq had always had its way with his family.
How many Andrews would the war claim before the troops came home? Most of them would eventually come back, but how many would not return alive or whole? He thought about the benefits and whether they could ever outweigh the cost. Returning his attention to the stage, Aaron wondered if he, this junior senator from Illinois, held the answers to his questions.
He wondered whether his childhood friend Tarek had also fallen victim to the war since his return home to Iraq. He wondered about the casualties on the other side. Were they helping or fueling the war on terror?
The crowd cheered as the candidate spoke about the need for America to mend relations with her old friends and renew her global standing. Aaron swelled with pride thinking about the US diplomatic corps and the relevance of their work. He was especially proud of the forty-three years his father and grandfather had dedicated to international relations.
The senator didn’t only speak about American foreign policy; he also spoke about healthcare reform and the need for universal healthcare legislation, the centerpiece of his domestic agenda. The crowd listened attentively as the senator highlighted the importance of curtailing America’s dependence on foreign oil and investing at home in a green economy to create good-paying jobs. He talked about rebuilding America’s crumbling infrastructure and investing in education, and he praised the importance of community service.
Much to the crowd’s delight, the candidate talked about the need to change how Washington did business. He spoke about curbing the influence of lobbyists on Capitol Hill, and he pledged not to accept any campaign funds from special interest groups.
Personal accountability was another point the senator brought up that late afternoon. He challenged voters to hold the candidates accountable for their negative ads, and he vouched to speak honestly to the American people, however uncomfortable it might be. He drew attention to the fact that government couldn’t do it all and that the parents had the ultimate responsibility of confiscating the video game. To that, the crowd reciprocated with loud cheers and applause.
Before concluding his address, the senator spoke about hope and shared a story with his audience.
If anyone doubts the power of one voice, let me just close by telling you a short story. A few months ago, I was at a dinner for the Democratic Party in South Carolina, and I happened to sit next to a state legislator. I wanted her endorsement, so I said: ‘Would you endorse me?’
She said: ‘I will endorse you if you come to Greenwood.’
I must’ve had a glass of wine or something.
The crowd laughed.
I said: ‘I’ll be happy to come to Greenwood.’
So, the next time we’re in South Carolina, my staff taps me on the shoulder and reminds me that we’ve got to go to Greenwood tomorrow. Since it wasn’t originally on our schedule, we had to wake up at six in the morning because, come to find out, Greenwood is an hour and a half away from everywhere.
The crowd laughed again.
Now, keep in mind that we had flown in at midnight, and I was looking forward to a good night’s sleep.
A woman’s chuckles overran the crowd’s laughter.
I looked at them in disbelief. In the morning, I wasn’t a happy camper. It had been raining outside. My press secretary called and said that there was a bad article in the newspaper, and something had gone wrong at one of our events. It was just a terrible morning. I get in the car and I’m still sleepy, and no one is talking to me because they know I’m grumpy. And so, we drive for an hour and a half. I thought we would never get to Greenwood.
We finally pull up alongside a park and there is a building there, and we go in and there are about twenty people there. It’s wet, and everybody there looks a little damp and a little grumpy and a little sleepy too. But I’m doing what I’m supposed to do as a candidate. I’m shaking hands with everybody and saying hello, but I’m not really feeling it. Suddenly, from the back of the room, my staff and I hear someone shout:
‘Fired up!’
We look back, and there is this tiny woman. She’s about five-two. She’s got a big church hat. She’s about sixty years old, and she is looking at me grinning, and she says, ‘Ready to go!’
The other twenty people act like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and they say, ‘Ready to go!’
She says, ‘Fired up!’
...| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 24.6.2024 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror |
| ISBN-13 | 979-8-3509-4388-7 / 9798350943887 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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