Joy and Sorrow Chapter 2 (The Heat is on)

Celeste shifted her weight uncomfortably. She was sitting in a stuffy, college auditorium, half heartedly watching her husband's debate for governor, trying not to sweat out of her clothes. That Japanese paper fan she'd bought for a buck seventy three would be put to good use if she had brought it with her.

" Could you PLEASE turn the air conditioning on, it feels like an Amazon rain forest in there," she had pleaded with the official-looking man at the front desk.

"I have been outside for a smoke and the air feels ten degrees cooler," she continued.

" Lady, if I crank up the A/C another notch, the whole place will be farting ice cubes," came the churlish reply.

The little prick had a point; persons elsewhere assembled appeared cool and relaxed. She must be going mad. She pulled a pen and her grocery list from her purse and fought back the urge to unfasten another button on the creme-and -mocha ensemble specifically chosen to appeal for the uber-conservative crowd. One misstep, real or imagined could nix all the good Joel was trying to do.

Which meant she would have to suffer a while longer. As a former actress, she'd gotten used to wearing uncomfortable clothes, smiling through gritted teeth the whole time.

There was that gangster movie, when an angry honey bee wedged itself into her undergarments and left several bee stings behind.Those heels for the soap opera that casting swore were a size eleven wide, but felt like a 9 and a half. Lastly, those horrid copper bra's,painted garish colors, that gave you no support and left welts and paint flecks all over your chest .

Celeste carefully laid the gel pen and grocery list in the side pouch of her purse and listened closely,suddenly alert. A seismic shift had occurred in the last several moments and her husband seemed to be winning. Harland Lenderstone, radio host turned public servant had been cleaning up in the polls.

Harland had decided one morning that all "political cows" were lame and he, a man with zero experience and only remedial intelligence was the man for the job. Voters adored his ads that played like movie trailers. A particularly popular ad ,had boasted a Volkswagen bus full of clowns.

Things started to tank for Lenderstone , halfway through the debate when he began pacing in place like a caged lion. He interrupted the moderator , twice and ranted at Joel in a accusatory tone. Joel,however remained perfectly calm on the surface , answering questions in that clear resonant voice of his.

She wagered by the crowd's stony glances and a smattering of hushed obscenities,that old Harland had lost his audience. Once they had paid their respects to Joel's opponents and left the auditorium,Celeste noticed as her husband heaved his bulky frame into the driver's seat of the new Chrysler,that a river of sweat marred his smooth, chubby face .