The October weather in Phoenix was nearly perfect as Juan pulled the pickup into his driveway. It had been another rough day at work. By now, all of Juan’s crews were chronically short-handed, but Richard still managed to find a way to keep the little company afloat. What’s this? Juan saw the big, official-looking envelope in his mailbox.
An eye-catching logo with sweeping lines read, “Official Election Mail.” And there was a checkmark in the letter ‘O’ of the word election. I didn’t request this.
Juan took the mail and his toolbelt and went inside. He crept inside because he knew Maria would still be sleeping. He’d have an hour or two until she woke up and began preparing dinner.
He put his tools away and took off his boots. Sitting down in his chair, he began sorting through the mail. Most of it was junk. He’d saved the ballot for last. Turning the envelope over in his hands, he thought grimly, I used to believe that my vote might decide the whole thing. He grimaced. Concern and worry clawed his expression into a deep frown as he reflected on the events leading him to this moment.
He’d sworn an oath to his adopted country, and now... Well, now he regularly betrayed that oath. He thought of the vagrants he’d encountered in the alley behind his House and the little girl who’d been shot. He thought also of his children and their dreams, and how problems would never get better. His teeth ground together, and he went to get a shot of tequila.
In the quiet of his living room, Juan took the time to read the ballot’s instructions. He’d filled out thousands of ballots, but this was the first time he’d ever read through one carefully. He wanted to learn about the ballot initiatives, referendums, recall applications, and finally, the candidates.
There were many he’d never heard of, so he read through them slowly. There were initiatives to raise the minimum wage, open the primaries to all parties, and amend the constitution to establish abortion as a fundamental right in Arizona. He had strong opinions on many of these subjects, and it took him a long time to get through it.
His frown deepened to a scowl, and he thought of his Tio Pablo when he read the Better Ballot Arizona application. It was written in legal jargon that was hard for him to understand. Eventually, he decided that the initiative allowed independents or those with no party affiliation to vote in the primaries. This will make our family business so much easier. It disgusted him. We’ll take your votes if you don’t want them!
Democracy was a joke. None of this matters.
He put the envelopes away and threw them on the coffee table. At least I can get another $200 for it.
“What are you doing?” Maria asked, yawing as she emerged from their room.
Juan tilted his tequila glass toward the envelope. “I just voted.”
“Mmm…” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “That’s good. I hope this time the election doesn’t have so much trouble.”
What Could Go Wrong?
Choose Option 1: Newsom Losing Badly
Choose Option 2: Harris Defiant