The Good Man's Son

By Alexander Rebelle

John Dumont is the first independent presidential candidate to ever have a commanding lead in the polls by mid-October of an election year. With nearly sixty percent of the voting population behind him, he arrives in Boston both for the final presidential debate of the campaign and to visit his son. But as the actions and the choices of his son abruptly become the focus of attention across the country, John finds his campaign in the midst of a crisis and his lead in the polls begins to shrink more and more with each passing day. In order to win the election, John will have to take control of the situation, but can he do it without damaging the bond that he shares with his family? John must choose to either interfere with the delicate balance in the newfound happiness of his son’s life, or do something that would seem impossible: convince the public to accept his son just as he has. John is a father that would sacrifice anything he has for his son, but will it cost him the election?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329212176

Alexander Rebelle

I suppose it began in elementary school when I won my first poetry contest at only ten years of age. I look back at the contest now and I see what I think were the first signs of those around me beginning to take notice of my apparent skills as a writer. I was gently encouraged to pursue a career in writing as I continued on through middle school and then went on into high school. Toward the end of my time at Cape Cod Academy, I had a vision of an alternate sort of universe with places and characters that all had stories waiting to be told. This vision began a five-year journey in which I studied all forms of storytelling, from music to cinema to literature. I split my time between two colleges, working on the very first story from the universe I had envisioned all the while. I also developed a passion for music in these five years after high school. I learned to play several different instruments and I recorded a number of demos based off the story I was trying to tell through my writing. I made an attempt at making a career out of music, but it was not to be, as I learned that the landscape of the music industry had changed in such a way as to discourage musical innovation and creativity. So I refocused myself on my writing. It took me until I was twenty-three years old to finally complete my first work of literary fiction. Now I’m a resident of Cape Cod, Massachusetts, the place where I grew up and where I’ve spent a majority of my life.

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The Good Man's Son

The Good Man’s Son

Alexander Rebelle

© 2015 by Alexander Rebelle. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the consent of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-329-21217-6

Cover photo credit: © Nexusplexus | Dreamstime.com – Speaker on Stage Photo

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

The views and opinions expressed in this book are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the publisher.

Author’s Note:

It has been quite the journey to this point in my life.  As the years have come and gone, many things have changed since I first dreamed of becoming a published author.  When I was younger, I believed the process of writing would be simple and would come easily to me: that I could write a masterpiece for the ages without any difficulty at all.  I was a young man with big dreams and all the confidence in the world.  As far as I was concerned, nothing would stand in my way.  My work would take the world by storm and it would change the way people thought and it would bring about an age of world peace.  That was the way I thought when I was seventeen.  But so much has changed since then.  Ten years have passed since I first dreamed of becoming a published author, and I certainly have done what I set out to do on a certain level—this will be my eighth published novel so far—but it certainly is and was not a simple process. 

When I write, I fight a battle with myself.  There are many different topics on which I have a wealth of knowledge and with which I have years of personal experience, but when I begin writing a new novel, I have to fight myself to focus on only one or two of them.   The temptation to write a novel about everything I can think of at the same time is very strong when I begin the process of writing.  But I have learned that doing something of this nature makes a novel difficult to follow and confusing to readers.  I might love a novel about everything I know personally, but my goal is to create something that other people can enjoy, and that requires my work to be more focused.

When I set out to write this novel, what I wanted to do was to create something that would be easier to understand and follow than most of my previous works, but not without losing the edginess my small following of readers always seemed to love in my work.  I’m very happy with the novel I wrote prior to this one, Spark of Madness: The Dream Show, but I believe my effort in making it easy to understand went too far.  It seems somewhat generic to me: very conventional and very plain.  While this does make it the perfect story for popular appeal, that is not the type of novel I want associated with my name.  I want to write the type of novel that is unconventional and provocative in a way that fascinates a reader.  That was my goal when I was seventeen: I wanted my writing to make people think about things they usually do not think about, and that is still what I want my writing to do.  So when I began writing this novel, I wanted to make sure it would do that as best it could. 

The key to writing this novel for me was finding a balance conceptually between simplicity and complexity.  It was difficult to achieve, but I believe I’ve done it well enough to call it a success.  This novel is a return to the themes and the provocative ideas that I put into a majority of my previous works, whether they were decent or very bad, but now I believe that most anyone can follow the story and understand it. 

In conclusion, I hope you enjoy this novel.  It was very difficult to write.  I must have decided that it was pointless to continue trying to write it at least a dozen times due to my frustration.  I was not satisfied with the arcs of my main characters, and I wasn’t satisfied with the way the novel began either, and it was a struggle to finally get those things to a point at which I felt they met the standard I had set for myself.  I had to tear up everything I had so far and completely change the setting and the plot multiple times as I tried to find that balance between simplicity and complexity. 

But I believe I eventually set out in the right direction.  Once I figured out exactly where I wanted this novel to go, writing it became a lot easier.  I’m hoping it’ll be a breakthrough in my journey as a writer: that maybe it could catapult me into literary fame, but I know better than to get my hopes up about that now.  Who knows though?  There are plenty of novels out there that seem unreasonably popular to me, so why not mine, right?  Maybe, for some reason, this novel will be the one that gets me somewhere.  Of course, I hoped the same thing would happen with everything else I’ve ever written, and I’ve had no luck so far, so I don’t see any reason why this novel would do what my others did not.  But that’s the least of my concerns now.  It would have certainly upset my seventeen-year-old self to know that my writing would never usher in an age of world peace, but I’m not too worried about it at this point.  So anyway, thank you very much and enjoy.  Also, if you’re on twitter, follow me. My handle is @TheAlexRebelle there.

Part I:

1:

I:

The waxing crescent moon shone brightly in the sky above and the trees stood rocking gently in the wind as the ocean waves crashed down on the countless beaches along the shore.  It was autumn in New England.  The air was growing cooler and summer was becoming only a distant memory as the days grew shorter and shorter.  For the people that called the region home, it was a time of year that was often beautiful and picturesque, but meant that another winter was fast-approaching, which, in recent memory, had come be a time that those in New England would wish to escape. 

The past few winters across the six states of New England had been record-setting, and in no place more than in the city of Boston.  Overwhelmingly, the people that called the city of Boston home were happy to see and hear the sights and sounds of autumn, but were not so enthusiastic about the arrival of the season that would follow.  The previous winter had been particularly harsh and unforgiving: record low temperatures, record levels of snowfall, and an entire month of the season with at least a foot of snow on the ground.  It stood to reason that only school-age children were eager to see the arrival of winter.  The schools in and around Boston had cancelled more days on the previous winter than ever before.  But for everyone that had a job and had to make a commute for a paycheck, the thought of winter was a source of much stress. 

It was late at night on this autumn evening in the city of Boston.  The air was cool and the traffic was relatively light at this hour.  She was a young woman with long dark hair and blue eyes, sitting behind the wheel of the car and listening to the radio as she made the drive along the Massachusetts Turnpike.  The sound of the DJ’s voice filled the cabin of the vehicle as she drove.  The DJ said, So I actually wore long pants today, which I’d been dreading since the first time I wore shorts back in May.  It’s starting to get colder out there and I don’t think anyone’s happy about it.  But anyway, this next song will take you back to nineteen ninety-four, here on one oh two five WXTWE the Hammer.

The young woman turned the radio volume up as the song began playing.  It was perhaps doubtful that she could have possibly been old enough to remember the song when it had been released—she looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties—but this did not stop her from mouthing the lyrics silently as she drove. 

It happened suddenly.  The car shook violently and then the sound of rushing air filled the cabin as the car began to sink downward toward the front left tire.  The young woman was startled as it happened.  She seemed to be in shock for a moment after the jolt, but once she realized what was happening, she quickly turned the radio off and switched her hazard lights on as she pulled the car over to the side of the road.  She put the vehicle in park there before opening the door and stepping outside to look at her car.  She had a flat tire.  It was the front left wheel.

The young woman reached back into her car and dug a flashlight out of her purse.  She waited for a break in the traffic and then turned the light on, shining it back across the highway to see what was there.  There was a massive pothole in the pavement about a hundred yards behind her. 

The young woman scowled and then climbed back into her car, picking her cell phone up in her hand and powering it on.  But it did not stay on for very long.  A graphic of an empty battery quickly appeared on the screen and then the phone turned itself off again.  The young woman scowled once more.  She sat still for a moment, no doubt wondering what to do, but then she exited the vehicle again and walked to the back trunk, opening it and looking down at the spare tire. 

The young woman reached her right hand down to touch the spare tire, pushing her palm down on the rubber.  The spare tire was also flat.  The young woman cursed under her breath and then closed the trunk before walking back to the driver’s side of the vehicle and climbing inside.  She closed the door behind her and then reached into her purse, digging through it for a moment, but then removing what looked to be a charging cable for her phone.  The young woman plugged the cable into the dashboard and quickly connected the cable to her phone.  She then sat back in her seat and began waiting for the phone to sufficiently charge so she could make a call. 

But as the young woman was waiting, the headlights of another vehicle came into view behind her.  They seemed to be the lights of a truck.  The young woman turned and looked as the oncoming vehicle slowed down and then pulled onto the side of the road behind her car, coming to a stop about a dozen yards back. 

The driver’s side door of the other vehicle opened and a young man emerged from it.  He stepped down onto the pavement and walked up to the window of the young woman’s car.  As the young woman rolled her window down, the young man asked, Do you need help?

The young woman replied, Well, my phone is dead and the spare is flat, so I probably could use some help right now.  You’d think a rental car wouldn’t have a flat spare, but I guess it’s my lucky day.

Flat spare? asked the young man. Where were you headed?

To my hotel, replied the young woman.  It’s not that far away – only about five minutes.  Do you have a cell phone?  All I need to do is make a call.

The young man nodded.  Sure.  But before you do that, you should probably know I’m driving a tow truck.

Are you? asked the young woman.  She looked back out the window.  The truck was indeed a tow truck.  She nodded.  How much do you charge?

If you just need a tow to a place five minutes away, don’t worry about it, replied the young man.  I won’t charge you for that.

The young woman hesitated.  She said, That would be very kind of you.  She paused.  She asked, Do you mind if I see your license?

Go right ahead, replied the young man.  He reached down into his pocket and removed his commercial driver’s license from his wallet.  He handed it to the young woman. 

The young woman turned the cabin light in the car on and looked at it.  She then handed the license back to the young man.  She asked, Jason, right?  That’s what it says on the license. 

The young man nodded.  That’s me.  What’s your name?

The young woman replied, I’m Sasha.  She paused.  Thank you for stopping to help me.  What do you need me to do?

Let me pull out in front of the car and then I’ll go to work, replied Jason.  Give me a second. 

He walked back to his tow truck and stepped back inside, starting the vehicle and putting it in drive.  He pulled it back out onto the highway and then onto the side of the road in front of Sasha’s rental car.  He paused for a moment there and then backed the tow truck up to just inches in front of the car.  He then stepped back out of the vehicle and walked up to the driver’s side window again. 

Sasha asked, What’s next?

You can get inside the tow truck and I’ll hook it up to the car, replied Jason.  It’ll just take me a few minutes.

All right, I can do that, said Sasha.  She reached down to her phone and unplugged it from the dashboard.  She put it into her purse and then grabbed the purse before rolling the window back up and opening the door.  She quickly walked around to the passenger’s side of the tow truck and opened the door, stepping inside there and then closing the door behind her.  She began waiting as Jason went about attaching the car to the truck.  It took him only a few moments. 

Once he was finished, he stepped into the driver’s seat of the truck and fastened his seatbelt before closing the door and then flipping his left directional signal on.  As he pulled back onto the highway and began driving, Sasha looked at him more closely.  It was perhaps difficult for her to see in the darkness, but he seemed to have short dark hair and brown eyes, and a face that looked somewhat younger than he might have been.  Sasha said, Thank you for this.  Are you sure you don’t want anything for it?

Jason shook his head.  It’s just five minutes away, right?

Sasha nodded.  Yeah, it’s the Q Hotel.  It’s right off the next exit.

That’s on my way home anyway, said Jason.  Don’t worry about it.

Thank you, said Sasha.  She shook her head.  That’s the first time this has happened to me.  I’ve gotten a flat tire in a rental car before, but the spare was never flat.  I can’t believe a rental car has a flat spare.

Do you travel a lot? asked Jason. 

Sasha shook her head.  No, not really.  I have a very busy life these days.  I only travel every once in a while.

And you’ve gotten a flat tire in a rental car before? asked Jason.

Sasha nodded.  This is the second time it’s happened to me.  The spare was good the first time, though.

Where are you from? asked Jason. 

Here, originally, replied Sasha.  But I don’t live here now.  I live on the west coast these days.

I’ve always wanted to travel, said Jason.  Of course, it’s hard when you work three jobs and need all three just to pay the bills, but I’m hoping I’ll have an opportunity to travel someday.

Sasha nodded.  I understand that completely.  She paused.  And now that you tell me that, I’ll feel really guilty if I don’t give you something for helping me.

Jason’s tone was sarcastic.  He said, I want a steak and lobster dinner at a five-star restaurant.  I’ll accept nothing less.

You really want that? asked Sasha.  I could make it happen.

You could? asked Jason. 

Sure I could, replied Sasha.  I know people around here.

That was a joke, said Jason.  I don’t even like steak that much.  But you could really make something like that happen?

Sasha nodded.  Yeah, what do you like?  If you want dinner, I’ll give you dinner.  That won’t be a problem.  I can get a free meal in plenty of places around here.  What do you want?  Chinese?  Italian?  What do you like?

Jason shrugged.  I could go for some good Italian food.  I haven’t had that in a while.

Perfect, said Sasha.  I’m here for the next week, so when do you want it?

If you’re really willing to do that, then how about tomorrow night? asked Jason.  Could you do that?

You got it, said Sasha.  The place is called Paladino’s.  It’s in the Back Bay.  Be there at seven PM tomorrow.

Jason shrugged.  Okay, I will.  Thank you.

II:

There was a full house on hand to watch the event.  Every seat in the auditorium was full and there were cameras from nearly a dozen different media outlets to cover the action.  There were four men standing on the stage, each behind a podium, and each dressed in a suit and a tie.  It seemed that one of the men was the moderator and that the other three were the participants in a debate.  Each of the participants had his name on the podium in front of him and his party affiliation there as well. 

On the far left, was a middle-aged man with a full head of brown hair and black suit with a blue tie.  According to the podium in front of him, his name was Warren Hart of the Democratic Party.  He was slightly taller than the man on the far right, who was dressed in a black suit with a red tie, and was older in age and had gray hair.  According to his podium, his name was Arthur White of the Republican Party.  The third participant in the debate stood at a podium in between the Democratic and Republican candidates. He was middle-aged himself and had a full head of dark hair.  He was dressed in a blue suit with a purple tie, and it seemed that his name was John Dumont, an independent candidate.

The moderator looked down at one of his notecards and asked, Governor Dumont, what do you have to say to American voters that believe your lack of an affiliation with a political party might make you indecisive under pressure?

John spoke into the microphone, What do I have to say to them?  I’ll tell you what I have to say to them: I’ll say I’m not going to marry myself to a preset system of beliefs or a predetermined ideology.  I have a vision of unity for this country.  It’s become very clear, not just to me, but to a majority of people in this country that we need to stop fighting with each other over minor differences in our political beliefs and then work together so we can move forward.  It doesn’t matter if we’re Democrat or Republican, black or white, or upper or lower class.  What we need to do is work together to make this country live up to its potential.  I challenge you to find a single person that believes a nation can succeed if its people would rather fight with each other than work together.

The crowd present inside the auditorium cheered loudly as John finished speaking.  The moderator waited for everyone to quiet down and then asked, President Hart, it has been said that you don’t seem to have a consistent platform for your campaign.  If re-elected, what will be your focus in your second term as President?

My focus will be simple, began the President, I’m going to invest in our infrastructure.  We have bridges and highways that are in such poor shape that Americans are unable to use them.  We need to invest in ourselves and make this country great again.

John asked, With what money, Mr. President?  You’ve spent billions of tax dollars on projects that people in this country don’t want.  You know what people in this country want?  They want jobs and they want to live a comfortable life.  While our infrastructure may be in need of repair, how will you focus on our infrastructure when all the people want is a path to a better way of life?

The crowd cheered loudly again as John asked his question.  The crowd seemed to be full of supporters for the independent candidate.  Once the crowd fell silent again, the incumbent President replied, We will have the money, Governor.

And where will you get it? asked John. 

I will raise taxes on the upper class, replied The President.  The top tax bracket will see an increase and that way we can work our way out of the deficit.

John nodded.  You said the same thing when you ran your last campaign, Mr. President.  And your predecessor said the same thing as well.  The fact of the matter is that for the last two decades, both the Democratic and the Republican parties have sold this country a bill of goods and have failed to deliver.  It’s time for this country to go in a different direction from Democrat or Republican.  It’s time to for voters to think for themselves and think about what they want.

The crowd cheered more loudly than it had all night as John made his point.  John seemed to have a strong and