How Not to Run for President by Catherine Clark Page A

since we no longer had cable.
    Maybe I’d somehow end up earning money on this tour, and we could get our cable back when I got home. That would make everyone happy.
    Yes. That was it. I’d stick around long enough to get paid. Not that anyone had said anything about paying. I might have to ask about that. There should be a union, just like at FreezeStar.
    In the parking lot, reporters were circling the governor within seconds. It was a mob scene, just like the day before, only worse.
    â€œPeople, people, stand back! Give her some room!” Stu was shouting while the agents and local police kept the crowd at arm’s length. The governor was shaking hands and kissing babies while the general urged her forward to the building’s entrance. Meanwhile, questions were coming at the governor from all directions:
    â€œWhat do you have to say about the latest trade deficit numbers?”
    â€œWhat plans do you have to save the economy?”
    â€œWhat will the latest immigration act ruling do for migrant farm workers in Ohio?”
    â€œHot enough for ya?”
    I tried to hide in the background, behind Emma. She’s taller than I am, so she made a good human shield. I would have to remember that in case the crowd ever turned on us and started throwing tomatoes, cream pies, or worse.
    Speaking of which: where was my personal Secret Service agent?
    â€œHey, aren’t you that kid?” a reporter came out of nowhere and held a microphone in front of me.
    â€œWhich kid?” I asked.
    She laughed. “You know, the tackle-first, ask-questions-later kid.”
    â€œUm, yeah,” I said.
    â€œOh, yeah, it’s him, all right,” Emma added.
    â€œI’d love to do an exclusive interview—” the reporter began.
    â€œHey, look, it’s Aidan!” someone else yelled. “The clarinet hero!”

All of a sudden, I had as big a group of reporters around me as the governor had around her, yelling questions.
    â€œHow was the bus ride, Aidan?”
    â€œYou got any songs for us?”
    â€œPlay something, Aidan!”
    â€œWhat are you doing here?”
    I was about to say that I’d been kind of wondering the same thing myself when Stu came to my rescue. “He’s the latest Brandonite, of course. His issues are the governor’s issues. Now, everyone, if you’ll excuse us, we have a rally to attend!”
    We headed into the convention center through the back doors. The Secret Service agents and local police escorted us to the backstage area of the convention hall, which reminded me of our school auditorium. The seats were filled, and people were standing in the aisles. Up onstage, a woman from the Ohio Grandmothers for Peace group announced that Governor Brandon was in the building, and the crowd went wild. People were waving Fresh Idea Party banners and American flags. Peeking out from backstage, I saw groups wearing T-shirts that said BRING ON BETTINA! and WE FLIP FOR FIP! There was even a set of twin babies wearing shirts that said, ¡NIÑAS PARA BETTINA !
    A group of women in the front row held signs that said, INDEPENDENT WOMEN FOR AN INDEPENDENT PRESIDENT . Onstage, a band started performing a rallying song, while backstage, the governor reviewed her notes one final time.
    Stu, the general, and Kristen hovered by the governor, waiting for instructions. Emma stood near me, but we didn’t say anything. Finally, a local politician introduced Governor Brandon.
    When she walked onstage and said, “Hello, Elyria!” it was like the reaction Christopher’s varsity football team gets when they take the field for a big game, only a lot louder. People were screaming, chanting, going a little berserk, if you asked me.
    Whoa , I was thinking. She really was growing in popularity. So this was what happened when you had a real campaign stop in a big city. This was why people got so keyed up over politics. It was like one big