=============================== Spring/Summer 1992, FUGUE #5 embroidered i nitials "TC" every morning. Big Tom handed me another drink and told me that he would personally look into this theft, and I could go tell Maloney, and my whole neighborhood that he, Big Tom the Populist, would bring these thugs to justice, which of course I agreed to do, and later did. The Big Man clapped me on the shoulder with a ham hand and told me what a fine lad I was, and swept on (I was sure) to solve some other perplexing crime or problem of voter discontent. It was a magical moment, as if Superman had just flown down to tell me that me and my buddies were covered. Lloyd leaned against me with one hand on my shoulder to steady himself, silent probably for the first time in his life, until he finally started to murmur to me over and over and
over, "Well done, Bates; utmostly well done, Bates .... "
So
Lloyd and I were converts, and whenever we heard that th e Big Man was running for something, we'd rush to print up some fliers, and nail them around our neighborhood. And we'd knock on doors too, and tell everyone what a gentleman Big Tom was, and we'd usually bring up how he put away forever those thugs who held up Maloney's 7Eleven, just like he promised. We were our own election team, and I'm not sure if the Big Man ever knew, but I'm certain we swung a number of key votes with our convincing and heart-felt arguments on his behalf. We had a buddy who was a very high l evel of a cat, and we weren't about to forget it.
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