The District Manager Read Online Free Page A

prison.”
    “What?” I ask, spitting into the dirty, cluttered kitchen sink.
    “That’s right. I smoked in prison. It helped with the pain. It helped a lot.”
    “Goddamn, these places are worse than even I thought. How the fuck did you get weed in prison?”
    “The guards.”
    “The fucking guards?”
    “Yeah, that’s right. They sold it to us. It was one of the only things they were useful for.”
    “Is this how you used the money I sent you… for drugs?” I ask rhetorically, then comment, “I don’t know, Keith, I was there yesterday and they looked like they wanted us for lunch.”
    “Not all the guards sold, only a few. One or two.”
    Before I bolt out the door I tell him, “I’ll think about it.”
     

     
    I have to meet my boss at his place of business in Wagoneer County. The Rep is a financial advisor by profession and his office is across from the county courthouse. When I get there, a strange car is parked where I usually park. I grab my briefcase and hurry inside. I’m late.
    “He’s got somebody in his office. I have no idea who he is,” The secretary informs me as I dart past her.
    “Ah, Mason, come on in,” he says, standing up from his desk.
    “Have you ever met Jack Clark? Jack is a political consultant fresh back from Europe.”
    Clark stands up to greet me. He is frighteningly thin and nearly bald. He’s wearing an American flag tie.
    “I don’t believe I have. How do you do, Mr. Clark?”
    “Call me Jack, Mason. You don’t mind if I call you Mason do you?”
    “That’s the handle they gave me, Jack.”
    I take a seat next to Jack. We both sit facing the Rep., who sits behind his sprawling, messy desk.
    “Jack here was just telling me about England and Amsterdam and…where else did you work?”
    “Bulgaria. I worked on the presidential election in Bulgaria. That’s one of the Balkan states.” He turns and addresses me.
    “Yes, I know my geography,” I answer.
    “Fascinating stuff!” My boss declares. “By the way, Jack and I have been discussing a possible run for Congress.”
    “Congress?” I ask. The remark startles me.
    “Yes, Congress,” Clark interjects. “The incumbent is very weak. Terrible really. I think your boss has a good shot. Besides, this redrawn House District 100 could revert back to what it was previously if the state loses its lawsuit with the DOJ.”
    “That’s right, all these redistricting legal fights with the federal government make campaigning almost impossible because you don’t know where you’re at. That said…Congress is all about raising the money!” the boss interjects.
    “We’ll work on that, sir,” Clark concludes. Standing, he shakes our hands, and then excuses himself, leaving the boss and me alone.
    “You know, Jack was partners with the late Warren Jenkins.”
    “You mean the consultant who was murdered by the cartel a couple of years ago?”
    “The very one, although the cartel part was never proved.”
    “If I remember correctly, that was pretty gruesome, wasn’t it?”
    “Oh yeah, they dressed the sad bastard up in some strange clothing and cut off his balls. Tried to make it look like some deviant sex thing—I don’t really understand. People of your generation know about that kind of shit better than mine.”
    “Yeah, that’s right…some kind of S&M thing, but it was a diversion.”
    “What the hell does S&M mean?”
    “Sadomasochism.”
    “See what I mean…?”
    “Yeah, I see. The world is pretty sick.”
    “It’s always been sick, Mason…it’s just gotten sicker… and perverse.” He adds, “Jack might have suffered a similar fate if he hadn’t been hired across the pond. I think it was good for him all the way around. He used to be kind of chubby.”
    I’m tiring of this tragedy turned self-help story and want to discuss what was just actually brought up by Jack Clark.
    “So what’s the deal with this congressional run?”
    “Oh, probably nothing. Just something I’m