The Mask That Eats The Face

By 9:30 EST on election night all of the major news networks had called the race for Roger T. Barrett, returning him to the United States Senate for a third term. The margin of victory was slim enough that a recount was still a possibility, but his lawyers and senior campaign people felt that they were on terra firma. They might have to deal with some legal challenges for a month or so, but in the end the poll results would likely hold up. Right now the top priority was seizing claim to the victory, in the current news cycle, and cementing the optical foundations of the win. Done properly, this might preclude all of the other concerns in the coming days.

Roger T. Barrett, Senior Senator from the great State of Texas, stepped into the light on-stage and strode up to the podium in the convention hall, then tapped the mic with the tip of his index finger twice and a hush settled over the room. His new veneers were done just a month earlier and he confidently flashed a brilliant white smile at the cameras and held his right fist up in the air. The crowd erupted in claps and cheers. He kept smiling, waved at some of the people in front and waited for the adulation to die down a bit.

“Well, I don’t think I am spilling any spoilers here, because you obviously all know by now that, thanks to all of your hard work and dedication, we have achieved our goal and tonight we are victorious!” He thrust his fist into the air again and the onlookers released a fresh round of cheers. iPhones were held up everywhere as footage of the victory speech was captured from a hundred different angles and posted and reposted online in a span of mere minutes.

When he was first elected to the Senate in 2012, Barrett had no intention of being one of the many “come to do good, stay to do well” career politicians in DC. He was not concerned with party politics, nor partisan politics. He won his seat in Texas riding on a wave of populist support that crossed the political divide, as much as that was possible anyway. He made it clear that he was there for the little guy. The rich were more than capable of taking care of themselves. Now, entering his third term, he still enjoyed strong support from his base.

Roger T. Barrett was a man of, and for, the people. He was going back to Washington to do their work. He left the stage with their cheers echoing in his ears, determined to do what needed to be done.

************

“Roger, I’m sure you appreciate the importance of this vote. We won’t have Cavanaugh and Marshall with us on this, they have both made that clear, publicly and privately. That means we need every other member of the party onboard and the VP will have to step in to cast the deciding vote.”

Sam Marling was the Senate Majority Leader and he was on a fevered mission to shore up the ayes needed to pass a massive new domestic spending bill ahead of the upcoming vote later that week. This was a piece of signature legislation for the President and its passage would likely have a major impact on the mid-term elections. It’s failure to pass likely would as well.

Barrett crossed his legs in his chair and looked down at his Italian leather shoes for a moment.

“I certainly understand the magnitude of this vote, Sam. I assure you I do. But there are a lot of provisions in this bill that my constituents are opposed to, some rather vehemently.”

“This is bigger than Texas, Roger.”

“Aint nuthin’ bigger than Texas, Sam. You can ask around.” They both laughed but it wasn’t real. Just a segue to get to the next bullet point in this scripted conversation.

“Besides, Roger, the people of your state love you dearly. They always have. And you have almost five more years before your next election! That’s plenty of time to get past this. We need you with us here. We need you, Roger.” Any hint of a smile was gone.

Barrett uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in his chair, extending his right palm for a handshake.

“I hear you, Sam. And you will hear from me by the morning. Want to meet up for breakfast?”

“Depends on what your answer is.”

They both laughed but, again, it wasn’t real.

“All right, I’ll just call your office then. Lunch maybe. If you like my answer.”

They shook hands and the meeting was over. The cheap facsimile of a smile soon faded from Barrett’s face.

He would do what needed to be done. He knew who he was.

************

Despite the best efforts at damage control waged by his staff, the news media was really running with this story. At first Barrett thought it would last for maybe two or three news cycles before something else came along. It was now running for over ten days with no signs of slowing down.

Texas Senator Roger T. Barrett continues to be dogged by allegations of sexual misconduct with former staffer Rosalind Murray. Miss Murray, who is less than half Barrett’s age, has alleged that they engaged in an affair that lasted just over a year. She claims that when she attempted to end her relationship with Barrett she was fired a short time later. We will air Jamie Notaro’s interview with Miss Murray at seven o’clock tonight.

Barrett powered the TV off and flung the remote control onto his desktop. His wife Anne and teenage daughter Eliza hadn’t spoken to him in the last four days, after the issue came to a head over the dinner table. Despite his claims that there was never any affair and that she was simply on a personal vendetta after being fired for her poor work habits and her inability to get along with the other staffers, they weren’t listening. Anne was too embarrassed to show her face in the usual places and Eliza had received some unkind comments at school and online. It was all over the news. Roger had been staying at a hotel for the last few nights, trying his best to smooth things out back at home over the phone.

“She’s just a deeply unhappy and angry woman with an axe to grind!”

“She is a twenty year old entry-level staffer. Can you even call her a woman?”

Barrett had the good sense not to point out the fact that Rosalind was almost twenty two years old. They were quiet for a minute or two, dragging bits of food across their plates without really eating much. Anne was looking at him from across the table. He raised his eyebrows.

"Eliza has some interesting summer reading assignments. Real classics. I keep telling her that she will enjoy them, but I'm not sure she's buying it. What's that famous quote from Hawthorne?"

"I don't know. You were the Lit major. We dream when we are awake and walk when we sleep, or something like that? I forget. It's been a long time."

"No, I was thinking of the one that goes, No man for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitudes without finally getting bewildered as to which may be-"

Roger slammed his fork and knife down and stood up. Eliza left the dinner table then and went to her bedroom. Roger just stared at his wife for a moment and she stared back at him, unblinking. The he left the dining room and packed a bag, grabbed his car keys and exited the house. He had not seen Anne or Eliza since that night.

In any case, he had far more urgent concerns at the moment. His senior staffers would be in his office within the next 10 minutes for a strategy session, and he was booked for an interview with one of the major news networks at seven o’clock and another at eight. Three major podcast interviews the next day and two more network news shows that night. He had to counter the sexual misconduct allegations and try to calm down the base over his highly unpopular vote on the domestic spending bill. He knew that was going to be a problem at the time, but some things you just had to do.

************

Four years later, things were very different. Barrett was divorced and due to his work and travel schedule Anne essentially had complete custody of Eliza. His daughter was starting college at Dartmouth now and rarely spoke to him in sentences consisting of more than three or four words anyway. He didn’t care anymore.

The election was only a few months away and he was polling more than fifteen points behind his top challenger in the primary. There was also a very popular rising star in the other party ready to put up a real fight in the general election, if Barrett somehow made it that far. That seemed highly unlikely, and losing this race was not just about losing his job or even losing power. It could mean losing his freedom.

He was flying back from a trade summit in Berlin to Washington DC on a brand new G6, paid for by some nameless, faceless lobbyist with a firm handshake, a painted-on smile and a degree from Harvard Law…who could possibly keep track of them all?

Flying home along with him was the delegation of four other Senators from his party on the Foreign Relations Committee, one of the most powerful committees in the US Senate, which Barrett had chaired for the last three years. Additionally there were about twelve of their senior staffers on the flight as well, everyone quietly pecking away at their laptops with the seat-embedded screens in front of them all tuned to one news outlet or another while checking text messages and trying to maintain polite but infrequent conversation with those immediately around them.

About an hour into the flight Barrett stood up from his seat to use the bathroom in the rear of the aircraft. When he returned, he saw that all of the incessant laptop pecking had ceased and everyone was wearing their headphones and staring at the screens, which were too small for him to read the text from a distance but as he drew closer to his seat he saw his own face for a few seconds. He noticed a few of the other passengers shooting barely-discreet glances at him before averting their eyes.

He sat down, plugged in his headphones and listened in to what was being said.

In a rare and shocking turn of events, the Department of Justice executed arrest warrants against four sitting members of the US Senate in relation to the Blackstone corruption scandal that has been making headlines since the New York Times first broke this story three days ago. The four Senators - James Martell of Virginia, Thomas Chamberlain of Illinois, Whittaker Walsh Jr. of Ohio and Senate Majority Leader Sam Marling of Pennsylvania - were all taken into custody last night and the Department of Justice is not commenting on any additional suspects at this time, but the New York Times story repeatedly referred to the group of Senators implicated in this scandal as “The Blackstone Five.” We will keep a close eye on this as events continue to unfold.

As the news program went to a commercial, Barrett powered off the screen before him and ordered a double scotch on the rocks. Then he just stared out the window into the darkness for the remainder of the flight. No one spoke with him and once they landed he remained in his seat and waited for everyone else to disembark. He didn't want to look anyone in the eyes. He didn't want to talk to anyone.

Before leaving the plane he went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. It had been a long day. He looked into the mirror and saw the warped face of a Lucian Freud painting staring back into his. Or maybe it was just the abyss gazing back into him. His head hurt and he could barely recognize himself anymore, not in any true and meaningful context anyway.

As he walked up the jet bridge to the private terminal he saw three men in dark suits, unsmiling, two well-built and the third a bit older, a man he knew. He immediately understood that they were there for him even before one of them removed a set of handcuffs from the belt beneath his jacket. The older man spoke up in a deep, dry voice.

“Senator Roger T. Barrett, these men are Federal Marshals and I think you already know that I am Brady Nelson, Deputy US Attorney General. We will be taking you into custody at this time pursuant to an arrest warrant issued by the US District Court for the District of Columbia. I have a copy of the warrant here. Please place your bag on the ground and turn around now.”

They read him his rights and drove him to the Federal Detention Center downtown. They let him cool his heels for a while, presumably just to give him some time to think about how he was going to play this. And then, after a few hours, they brought him into an interview room with faded off-white paint and a dying plant in the corner, right next to a plastic garbage pail nearly brimming with soiled paper coffee cups, soda cans and stubbed-out cigarette butts. There were no windows. It clearly seemed performative in nature but it still had the desired effect.

It didn’t take very long. They got down to the deal points pretty fast. The good news was that Barrett was the second biggest fish in the barrel. They wanted the Majority Leader, Sam Marling, and they needed firsthand testimony from one of the top co-conspirators to take him down. A deal was offered. Prison time might not be avoidable, but it could definitely be mitigated and served in a comfortable place, given the right levels of cooperation, of course.

Roger T. Barrett immediately knew that he would do what needed to be done. There was never any consideration at all, only thoughts about angles. Negotiation strategies and tactics. Legally-binding guarantees. Getting his attorneys in the room as soon as possible. There was much at stake. Everything. Everything that remained anyway.

He knew exactly who he was in that moment. He knew exactly who he was.

THE END

"Celebrity is a mask that eats into the face. As soon as one is aware of being 'somebody,' to be watched and listened to with extra interest, input ceases, and the performer goes blind and deaf in his over-animation. One can either see or be seen".

- John Updike