This is an occasional story series. To start the story at the beginning, click here.
Washington and Austin feel like they are far apart, but politically they operate the same way. Money talks, and the elected representatives say the things they think their constituents want to hear.
The cowboy and Ann were walking down the grand hallway of the Dirksen Senate office building, where Ann’s father’s office was located. Some people were talking outside another office, and as they passed, they could hear, “… costs us over two billion dollars a year just to support those illegals. We have to find some more restrictive quotas…” Whoever it was didn’t seem animated, just matter of fact.
“Popular topic,” said the cowboy.
“Keep your voice down,” said Ann.
When they arrived at the Senator’s office, the young receptionist perked up as soon as Ann walked in. “Hi, Miss Abrams, I’ll let him know you’re here. Would you like anything? Coffee?”
“No thanks, Tina.”
It was ten minutes before four people left the Senator’s inner office and they were ushered in. “Hi Daddy.”
“Hi Honey.”
“Dad, this is the friend I told you about.”
The cowboy introduced himself and they shook hands.
“I heard you have quite a spread out near San Angelo. Do you know John Tennyson?”
“Thank you. It’s my parent’s place, about halfway between Austin and San Angelo. I’ve heard the name Tennyson. I think he’s a friend of my uncle’s.”
“You should look him up. He’s a good man.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ann got straight to the point. “Daddy, are you in danger? I can’t believe someone tried to shoot you!”
“Oh, darlin’, I think I’m safer now than I ever have been. They put a bunch of security on me so’s I can’t even put on my drawers without somebody watchin’. I’ll be fine. My biggest worry is getting voted out of here.”
The cowboy said, “I understand the issue that’s bothering folks is immigration.”
“We don’t know that for sure. The pro-life people don’t have much use for me either. And they’ve been violent before.”
Ann and her father chatted about a few family matters, and it quickly became clear that the Senator had things to do.
The cowboy said, “It’s been great meeting you sir. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not directly. Why don’t you talk to my friend John Tennyson. He may have some ideas.”
“Ok, I sure will.”
Ann and the cowboy walked back down the hall. “Who’s John Tennyson?”
“I don’t really know, but I’m gonna find out.”
******
The cowboy returned home to find that his truck was running a little rough. He took it to the Ford dealer who told him he didn’t have enough mechanics right now, and could he bring it back next Thursday? The cowboy agreed, and thought about what the Senator was trying to do. If he was successful, maybe the dealer would have a few more mechanics.
It turned out the cowboy’s uncle David did know John Tennyson. He set up an appointment with his uncle’s introduction, and drove down to Tennyson’s office in South Dallas.
Uncle David had told him that Tennyson had gone to school with him at UT, and had done well in electronics. He hadn’t been clear about just how well. The cowboy gave a low whistle when he saw Tennyson’s building — all 20 floors of it. The directory listed HHF Holdings on about half the floors, and the rest were an outfit called Armadillo Switch.
The cowboy gave his name at the security desk, and soon an efficient-looking woman with short dark hair and glasses walked quickly up to him and said, “Please follow me.” Just as quickly, they jumped back into the elevator and headed to the top floor. “Is this HHF Holdings, or Armadillo Switch?”
The assistant gave him a funny look and said, “Both. Mr. Tennyson runs them both from this office.”
Tennyson didn’t look much like a successful businessman, although the cowboy had to admit he didn’t know what that would look like anymore. He was wearing a ZZ Top tee shirt and jeans, and he hadn’t shaved recently.
“Did you know your uncle owns part of all this?” The cowboy managed a surprised look that said he didn’t know. “Yeah, he gave me a thousand bucks when I was just getting started. I’ll never forget that. But that’s not why you’re here. David said you’re interested in our immigration issue.”
“Well, yes, but mostly I want to see how I can help Senator Abrams.”
“I see,” said Tennyson. “There’s plenty to do there. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”
“Okay, but can you answer me a question?”
“Sure.”
“What does HHF stand for?”
“High Hanging Fruit. I don’t believe that there is an easy way to make money. Not legally, anyway.”
And with that, the cowboy became part of the re-election campaign.
To be continued …
