Andrew Jackson whistled a cheerful tune as he walked briskly up the sidewalk, away from his house, in the direction of Main Street. Sparrows, chickadees and redpolls launched themselves out of the hedges as he approached, only to return seconds later, chirping their displeasure, when he had passed. A tiny dog yapped at him from behind a picket fence and Andrew leaned over to say hello.
“Good job little fella,” he said. “Keepin’ the family safe I see, like a good Conservative! Bully for you!” The dog stopped yapping and wagged its tail. “But still makin’ me feel welcome,” said Andrew, “like a good little Liberal!” He reached down and scratched behind the dogs ears. “But you could use a trim there my boy,” he said. “You’re getting a little shaggy. Makes you look like you might be NDP.” The dog stopped wagging, turned sideways along the fence and lifted a hind leg.
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Andrew backed away. “No offence,” he said. “I meant nothing by it. You vote whichever way you want, puppy, just not on my boots please.” The dog lost interest and trotted away in search of other adventures, and Andrew did the same, although he didn’t actually trot.
He turned the corner onto Main Street, took a moment to stick his head in the door of the hardware store and call out a hello to his daughter-in-law, Jackie, as he did whenever he passed there on a Saturday, and then continued on in the direction of the café. Two minutes later he was seated, as usual, at the table by the window with his good friend Grant and two other acquaintances.
“A good morning to you all!” he said, and took a sip of the coffee that had magically appeared in front of him the moment he sat down. Grant and the others looked at him suspiciously.
Andrew gazed back at them. “What?” he said.
“You are suspiciously cheerful,” said Grant. “What do you know that we don’t?”
Andrew smiled expansively. “Nothing,” he said. “You know it too. Two days from now this will all be behind us.” The others looked at him quizzically. “The election campaign from hell,” said Andrew in explanation.
There was an immediate murmur of agreement around the table.
“That will be a relief,” said Jack Cyr who had just finished off a plate of eggs and was moving on to the plate of toast. “It’s been a test of endurance, that’s for sure.”
“It’s been tiring,” agreed Bill Barkley, who was sitting across from Jack. “I’ve never had to hate so many people for such a log time. Frankly, I’m exhausted.”
Grant gave Bill a curious stare. “Who do you hate, Bill?” he asked.
“Everybody,” said Bill. “I’m not prejudiced.”
“Good for you,” said Grant. “It’s important to treat everybody equally.”
“Except Mormons,” said Bill.
“What do you have against Mormons?” asked Andrew.
“Nothing,” said Bill. “They’ve always left me alone.”
“Good point,” said Jack.
“There are no Mormons around here,” said Andrew.
“That definitely helps,” said Bill.
“Well anyway,” said Grant, “it’s looking as though Canadians will once again move, in a fit of frustration, from a government plagued with scandal and corruption to a new government soon-to-be plagued with scandal and corruption.”
“Well obviously,” said Andrew cheerfully. “Is there any other choice?”
No one offered another choice.
“The point is,” said Andrew, “that after Monday, for the next five years or so, we can do what we always do.”
“What do we always do?” Jack wanted to know.
“We prove to the politicians that they’re wrong,” said Andrew.
“Wrong about what?” asked Jack.
“Everything,” said Andrew.
There was a moment of silence while the others considered this.
“Everything?” said Grant.
“Name one thing they’re not wrong about,” said Andrew.
There was another long pause.
“See what I mean?” said Andrew. “You can’t do it.”
“But if they’re wrong about everything,” said Jack, “then how do I know who to vote for?”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Andrew. “Just go to the polls and ask for a quick-pick.”
“Who are you going to vote for Andrew?” asked Bill.
“That’s for me to know,” said Andrew, “and for you to keep your nose out of.”
“I’m voting Liberal,” said Jack. “Because my kids are a bunch of marijuana-smoking criminals. But if the Liberals win my kids will suddenly be a bunch of marijuana-smoking law-abiding citizens. Which is a tiny bit better, I think.”
“Well hopefully,” said Grant, “whoever wins, things will get at least a tiny bit better.”
“I’ll vote for a tiny bit better,” said Andrew. “All in favour, say aye.”
“Aye, aye, aye,” said the other three.
