Forty-Seven
The Story Behind the Video that Doomed Mitt Romney's campaign
Dedicated to Anonymous, who bravely showed us the true Mitt Romney
Although based on facts, this is a work of fiction.
Revenge
May 17, home of Marc Leder, Boca Raton
I'd just refilled the coffee-cup of a women, dressed in an outfit I couldn't pay for in a year. And a facelift she shouldn't have gotten.
“Oh, you're the nails lady! You do such good work, and a bargain. Lisa, Ellen, meet my manicurist. She makes house calls.... I'm sorry, I don't remember your name.”
“Osiriaylana. My friends call me Siri. I'm sorry, waitpeople aren't supposed to chat with the guests.”
“Oh, you're not a waitress now, you're a professional. Just tell Marc to shove it. Tell him his ex-wife said so. Mine just disappeared. Her phone is disconnected. I heard she was deported. Undocumented, you know. Do you have a card? No? Just write your number on this napkin. I'll call. Promise. Good ones are hard to find.”
Inwardly I steamed at these women, eating a large sirloin and a tiny potato. Rumor was, their husbands paid fifty grand for that sirloin. I'd waitressed these fundraisers twice before, traveling with my boyfriend Pedro; it was safer than walking alone at night to the bus that brought us through the automatic gates to work this monster home. We heard the same old speech, and the same stuffy gossip. The man at the front of the table wanted to be President, and he scared the daylights out of us. We were nothing to him, and we were less than nothing to these women. 'Nails lady.' Me. I didn't even have a name. Just 'Nails lady.' But I did get paid. For nails or waitressing these lavish dinners. Cash. Under the table. Good cash. Pedro made a little more. She probably didn't know or care, I was 'undocumented' too. My mother got me into the country when I was four. Pedro walked across the border, back when it was easy. The guy who wanted to be President, Romney was his name, thought we should just 'self-deport,' like bus tickets back to Guatemala are free. I don't even remember Guatemala, except a vague memory of being hungry and hot. My friends said we could do nothing, we were illegal, we couldn't vote, we couldn't speak up, we'd wind up behind bars. Some of the waiters were citizens, but Romney said they didn't count either. These bigwigs should be the ones running the country. They knew what was best for us. We were nothing. None of us. But tonight was different. Behind a hole in my purse, was a camcorder. Aimed at Romney, I hoped. Running. They couldn't deport a video.
On a bus, two fundraisers before
“Pedro, this guy is leading in the polls. He could win.”
“We're screwed. I'll be back in Mexico, you'll be sent to Guatemala City.”
“What happens to Orlando? He's a citizen, our baby was born here, he has a birth certificate. His thallassemia's mild, but the doctors say he needs a bone marrow transplant if he's going to grow up.”
“Won't happen in Guatemala.”
“Won't happen if this Romney guy is elected. He thinks you can get whatever treatment you need at the ER. You heard him. Idiot. I bet he thinks we don't understand English. He wins, Orlando dies.”
“I watched one of those debates. He gets most of the questions. What I heard tonight, and what he said in that debate? Totally different.”
“I read up on him on the internet at the library. I know, I should have been studying. Exams next Friday. Romney does that all the time.”
“What we heard?”
“No, flip-flopping on abortion and buying guns, lots of things. Stuff nobody cares about. We just need work, and papers.”
“We can't do anything. We're two illegals on a bus going home, with a wad of cash we earned, minus the babysitter.”
“Yes we can.”
“You're dreaming.”
“Remember that woman, Monica something, almost took down a President. He lied about an affair with her. She did something. Got him impeached.”
“Before I snuck in, I guess. Monica Something against the President? She just gets called a liar.”
“She had proof. His DNA all over her dress.”
“Wow, he must shoot pretty far for an older guy.”
“Get your head out of the gutter, Pedro. We can get proof.”
“What.... you going to give this Romney guy a blow job?”
“No, idiot. Record him. Sneak in a camcorder. Post it on the internet.”
“We don't have a camcorder. We don't have the money for one. We don't know how to put a video on the internet. And we can't just record at one of these houses, we'll get fired. Won't pay the rent.”
“My brother Osirial does. He's legal. He knows all that stuff. He's got a camcorder.”
Goodwill store
“Boy, these camcorders are tiny. Records for hours. How do we hide it?”
“There. That purse. See the stupid holes at the ends, with the brass rings around them? So all your stuff falls out. A trail of pens and tampons behind me. Idiot fashion, they finally went out of style. Put some junk in the purse, lift the camera up, aim through the hole, nobody will notice an old purse.”
On the bus, the next fundraiser
“What'd we get? Anything?”
“Damn. The camera shifted. I have a video of the inside of a purse.”
“Can you hear him?”
“Yeah... not bad. Same speech, every time.”
“Same joke about his father should be Hispanic?”
“Coming up. Speech never changes..... yup.”
“It's something. I'll take it to Osirial.”
On the bus to the next fundraiser
“Could be our last chance.”
“Osirial says he got a nibble on our last tape. James Carter's really curious.”
“Who's that?”
“Grandson of President Carter.”
“He can't get much interest. The audio could be a fake. We need better.”
“Tonight we do it. Put your purse between two serving trays, tight. Nothing will shift. Nobody looks at a serving cart.”
On the bus, after the fundraiser
“What do you see?”
“It worked. Aimed right through the hole. I can't hear, this bus is too loud. But I can see him. Good thing I moved that candle. Sound should be better, I got closer this time. He's screwed. Orlando has a chance.”
Delivering the dirt
In the ER
“I got here as fast as I could get off work. How is he?”
“Better. Doc says this prescription should stop the pneumonia.”
“How do we pay... for this prescription? We barely made rent.”
“This pharmacy, some Government program. Orlando's a citizen, he qualifies.”
“Not after that Romney guy wins.”
“Osirial called. Sent the video. That Carter guy was really interested. Seems Romney insults his grandfather.”
“You surprised? Along with women, rape victims, gays, us undocumented, and anybody who isn't made of money.”
The Truth hits the Fan
September 17
“What a day. Huge crowds for Monday Night Football. But I made good tips.”
“I saw it through the window of a bar TV, walking home from work. I had to walk in to listen. We did it.”
“Did what?”
“Our video. On the TV. That Romney guy, tying himself in knots, trying to explain it away.”
“Anybody know who it came from?”
“Nope.”
“We should come forward. We have the original. We have proof. We'd be famous. That Obama guy might swing us papers, for saving his ass.”
“Or deport us. Osirial said, our video could cost Romney's friends five trillion dollars. Five trillion, if we help him lose. He said that pays for a lot of hit squads. We better stay quiet.”
At the ER
“He didn't make it, Orlando's gone, Pedro. My baby, gone.”
“I couldn't afford a refill, he seemed OK. Two days, dead. Doc warned us, thallasemia can do that.”
“Don't need that bone marrow transplant. Just.... a casket.”
November 7
“I checked twice, just to be sure. I'm pregnant.”
“Orlando's father was a carrier, I'm not. I didn't know Planned Parenthood tested men. Your baby won't die like Orlando.”
“Planned Parenthood might survive too. That Romney guy was going to get rid of them.”
“All the guys on TV, said our video made a big difference.”
“Orlando's still dead. I miss him. I miss his big eyes.”
“I got my deferment in the mail, I can't be deported. We'll make it, we'll make a difference.”
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