the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, and all of that. You've got great TV presence, an aggressive stand that lots of New Yorkers find easy to handle-'
'Moe,' said Bernie cannily, 'you didn't want to talk to me to tell me all these wonderful things about me.'
'This is true,' said Moe, lowering his gaze. 'What I'm saying is that you may have your work cut out for you after the primaries.'
'After?' He eyed Moe suspiciously. 'You trying to tell me you think the Republicans really have a prayer?'
'No.'
His eyes widened and he whispered, 'The Commies?'
'No. Not the Commies.'
He sat back and spread his hands questioningly. 'Well then, who... ?'
'There's an independent candidate-'
Bernard laughed hoarsely and shook his head. 'You're kidding me, right? An independent candidate? Some schmuck who puts up his own soapbox and starts pontificating to the public? Bullshit! I do not for one minute-'
'Bernie,' and Moe's tone as always was unpleasant, 'you pay me quite handsomely for giving my advice, and I am telling you now,' he waved a thin finger threateningly, 'that if you do not listen to what I'm telling you, you will have thrown your money on me away.'
Bernie leaned back in the chair. He stroked his chin some more and then said, 'All right, Moe. So who is this wunder-kind you're so concerned about?'
Moe cleared his throat, covering a sigh of relief. He had finally gotten Bernie to listen to him.
That was three quarters of the battle right there. 'His name is Arthur Penn,' he said.
Bernie rolled the name around in his mouth and finally shook his head. 'Never heard of him.'
'Neither have I. Neither has anybody else. But you're going to. The man's totally unhinged.'
'What?'
'He says strange things that, in a bizarre, roundabout way make some sort of sense. When he doesn't know an answer to a question, he says weird things like... like...'
'Like what?' asked Bernie. 'Like, 'We have that topic under careful consideration and plan to address it in the near future.' '
'No. He just says he doesn't know.'
'What?'
'That's right.'
The blood drained from Bernie's face. 'The man's a lunatic!'
'That's not all. I happened to be in a crowd over by TKTS today. He climbed up on a statue and started speech making. The crowd clustered to him like nothing I've ever seen. Bernie, it was frightening. They weren't just standing there. After less than a minute it was clear to me that they were actually listening. Hanging on his every word. Anyone who came within earshot of his voice was mesmerized instantly. I immediately started tossing a few random questions at him, kind of hoping to see how badly he would botch it. So instead he started giving these looney-tune answers, and the crowd ate it up.'
'Loony-tune answers? What answers? What sort of questions?'
Moe told him, and Bernie's eyes widened so that they threatened to explode from his head.
'What is he, nutsl You didn't tell me he was totally unhinged.'
'Actually, I'd-'
But Bernie wasn't listening now. He was pacing angrily back and forth, up and down the narrow stairway that led up the aisle between seats. 'Allowing the people to pass sentence.
That's nuts! Sentences are passed in accordance with the laws of this state. Certain crimes demand certain sentences. The angered or bereaved victim can't begin to grasp the subtleties, the complexities of passing a-'
'Bernie,' said Moe impatiently. 'I know that. You know that. For all I know, even Arthur Penn knows that. But the people don't.'
'But the people don't run the courts!'
'True enough. But they run the polling booths. And if they find this Penn's sideways view of the world attractive, they might say so come election day. New York is a city of nonconformed. Our television ratings never match. Our buildings don't vaguely resemble each other in style. New Yorkers are rude in situations where others are polite, and polite in situations where Mister Rogers would bite your head off. They might just buy and slice this crock of baloney.'
Bernie had barely listened. He was too busy shaking his head, saying, 'The laws dictate the punishment that should fit the crime. Can't he see that? It's impossible.'
'I'm telling you right now that if that little matter were brought to his attention, his immediate reaction would be, 'Well, let's change the law.' '
Bernie scratched his head. 'So how do you figure we deal with this nutcase?'
'Frankly, I'm not dead sure yet. I think we can only take a wait-and-see attitude for now.'
Moe interlaced his fingers and crossed his legs almost daintily. 'I mean, we shouldn't start attacking his positions yet. All that will do is give him publicity. Hell, maybe that's what he's hoping for.'
'Too bad,' muttered Bernie. 'I'd like to take this guy apart in public.'
'You may yet get your chance, if he sticks around. Which, I have a sick feeling, he's going to do.'
Bernie was struck by a thought. 'Hey, Moe, about that thing with people deciding the sentence ... I mean, what if they got together and decided to bring back tar and feathering?'
'With the crime rate what it is?' Moe snorted. 'You could start heating enough tar to fill every pothole in New York and it wouldn't be enough to satisfy the demand.' His nose wrinkled slightly. 'Go hit the showers, Bernie. With the sweat you worked up, you're starting to smell like New Jersey.'
Chaptre the Ninth
Arthur grabbed up the telephone before the first ring had ended. 'Hello, yes? Merlin!'
Merlin's voice was overwhelmed by traffic noises in the background. 'Calm down, Arthur.
You're not getting a call from the messiah, after all.'
'Merlin, where the devil have you been?' The excitement in his voice was unkingly, but he didn't care a bit. 'I haven't seen you in over a week. I have so much to tell you! Where are you? What are you doing? What are you up to?'
'Arthur, please! I don't understand. What's been happening? I mean, you've just been out getting signatures, haven't you? What could be so exciting about that? It's-'
'Oh, no, Merlin! It's gone beyond that. Way beyond that.'
Merlin sounded extremely wary. 'What are you talking about?' he said slowly.
Arthur sat back in his throne. Surrounded by the walls of his castle, he felt power surging through his body and spirit. 'I,' he said proudly, 'have been politicking.'
'You've been what!'
'Making speeches. That sort of-'
'For pity's sake, Wart, who told you to do that?'
Arthur frowned. 'I don't think I like the tone of your voice, Merlin.'
'Tone of my-Arthur, what in the name of the gods have you been saying to the people? How did this start?''
'It began the first day I was out,' said Arthur cheerily, as if relating the details of a thrilling game of cricket. 'People were ignoring me, sol.. .'
He described the proceedings.
'Are you out of your mind?'
Feeling somewhat crestfallen, Arthur said, 'No, I don't think so. But-'
'We were to rehearse everything you were going to be saying. Have you forgotten all of that?'
'No,' said Arthur. 'No, I haven't.' And his voice took on an edge hard as steel as he said,
'But I think you're forgetting who is going to be the next mayor of this state.'
