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: : : CLARK FOLDS A LEAFLET INTO thirds. She is working her way through five hundred of them, a mailing for the community activist center. She passes the leaflet off to Oliver, the other volunteer who came in tonight. They've been working together a lot lately. Malcolm X looks out at them from a poster, his fist raised. Beneath the poster a coffee urn ticks quietly.
Clark folds another leaflet. —Schwarzenegger, she says, trying out the word seriously. —Governor Schwarzenegger.
—I know, says Oliver. —I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it. He seals an envelope with a moistened cube of sponge. His fingernails are exceptionally well-groomed, Clark has noticed. —I mean, maybe I'm politically naïve, but I didn't really think he had a chance to begin with, he says. —I just kept thinking well, surely they wouldn't. And then when all that groping women stuff started coming out I thought, well, that's it, he's sunk.
—Now, Clark says, —you do know that people with a history of sexual harassment aren't exactly unheard of in public office.
—Yeah, true, Oliver says. —But I just keep thinking well, maybe things are different now.
—You are politically naïve, Clark says, smiling.
—I guess, Oliver says. He shrugs. He squares off the stack of envelopes.
Clark folds another leaflet and passes it over to him.
—You know the thing that really gets me? he says. —This probably means the end of the Enron lawsuit.
—The what now?
—Oh, Oliver says. —It's just this thing I've been following. The whole politics of energy deregulation is really interesting to me.
—Uh huh, Clark says.
—Jeez, that sounds really geeky, doesn't it? Oliver says. He clenches his teeth, making a show of his anxiety. —It's like if I were to say my true passion is the tax code.
—I know people who are passionate about tax code, Clark says.
—Really? Oliver says. —So—uh, what are they hot about? Tell me. I want to know. I really do!
Clark smirks. —First tell me about this lawsuit.
—Oh, Cruz Bustamante—he was bringing a lawsuit against Enron, under the Unfair Business Practices Act—it would force them to refund about nine billion dollars.
—Wow, Clark says.
—Yeah, but Bush's federal commission, Ken Lay's thing, is working on a different plan, a settlement, on a conspiracy charge. It's really a slap-on-the-wrist-type deal, a fine, a few cents for every dollar Enron got away with. Supposedly Schwarzenegger will authorize the settlement which will put a functional end to Bustamante's thing, and, uh, that'll be that, I guess…
He rolls his hand through the air, pinches the bridge of his nose with his other hand, and sighs.
—You know, he says, —sometimes I think I'm like the only person in America who's still following Enron? It seems like everybody else has kind of forgotten about it.
—I'm guilty of that, Clark says. —I needed to make room for new outrages.
—God, Oliver says, —there have been so many lately, haven't there?
—All part of America's slow slide into oligarchy.
—Not so slow these days.
—Tell me about it, Clark says. —You know what I want? You know what you could do for me? Find me a Canadian boyfriend. That way, if things here get really bad, I'd at least have an escape—get married, become Canadian.
Oliver looks at her with a cryptic half-smile.
—What? she says.
—I'm half Canadian, he says.
—Shut up, Clark says.
—No, seriously! My dad was Canadian! I have dual citizenship.
—Really, Clark says.
—Yeah, really, Oliver says.
—I thought you seemed strangely sane. She passes him a leaflet.
—So, he says. He seals the leaflet inside an envelope and adds it to the stack.
—Yes, Clark says.
—So, you want to get married? Oliver says.
—We'll see, says Clark.
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