A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [105]
“Over here, Duncan!”
He slumped in beside her. The auditorium noises heightened in anticipation.
“Those so-called antique guns,” Duncan whispered to his sister, “are World War Two. Both the carbine and M–1 garand are used today for hunting, and the World War One 03 is still one of the most accurate rifles in the world. Man, they’re twisting and distorting every law.”
“Every law and human decency,” Rae said. “Christ, I feel like I’m on a different planet: Mars, war, blood.”
He patted her shoulder. “Thank God for men like our Dad,” he said.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Folks! Shooters! Can I have your attention? The welcoming session of this great conclave will take place in fifteen minutes in the unitedairlinesAUDITORIUM. Preferred seating to delegates and AMERIGUN members showing their registration badges. Governor O’Connell has agreed to personally welcome you all himself. Make certain he gets a rip-roaring ovation.”
Duncan thought he was going to get his first asthma attack.
GOD SAVE THE SECOND AMENDMENT declared a banner on the balcony railing. Every seat was filled. Hall Carleton, a hall of fame football player turned actor in times past, filled his days with after-dinner speaking to agitated, hopping-mad groups of an immoderate Christian fellowship.
Hall mumbled toothily, a problem he had had with his acting. As the celebrity spokesman of AMERIGUN, he rose among them like a giant. Five, six, seven thousand people and growing were in the embrace of the protector.
King Porter shuffled his feet and gnashed his teeth, motivating himself for his upcoming hell-bent, Katie-bar-the-doors sermon.
The day of the gun had arrived in Denver.
Six o’clock. Hall Carleton banged the gavel and declared the convention open and smiled an ivory smile to the delegates.
“Fellow shooters! Please take your seats and let us prepare ourselves for the serious work ahead in the next three days. Now, we’re all ’Mericans here. We love our freedom and our children, and we treat our women with respect. We are known for our fair play. My daddy,” Hall continued, choking a bit, “gave me a Daisy BB gun when I was five years old for picking blackbirds off the telegraph wires. I got so good, we had bird and rabbit for dinner whenever I went a hunting. This old dawg can hunt!”
Cheers, whistles, stomps, drumroll.
“When I was chosen to star in some of the great film epics, I never forgot where I came from and why. And I thank God—yes, you liberals, there is a God—I thank the Almighty for allowing me to spend my twilight, my declining years in the service of decent citizens asking only for their God-given just rights. That’s all we ask of a government turning more and more against these just and constitutionally guaranteed rights.”
Cheers, whistles, stomps, drumroll. Both arms spread like a Moses parting the Red Sea.
“Now, I can’t say,” Hall Carleton said, “that everybody agrees with us. But we are tolerant. The man I am about to introduce may not support us on the various issues, but he will learn to. Because he is a fair-play man and he is a great ’Merican hero, a great Marine, a great…rancher and governor. So, stand up and cheer our honorable opponent, Governor Quinn Patrick O’Connell of the great state of Colorado!”
Rae and Duncan turned to the entrance of the unitedairlinesAUDITORIUM and saw their father and their mother beside him, calm as a whisper.
The band struck up the Marines’ march, “Semper Fidelis—Always Faithful.” Quinn strode slowly into the waves of hands reaching to be shaken. He nodded quickly to his children. The cheering intensified as he was greeted at the steps to the platform by Hall Carleton and King Porter. Be gracious in victory, King told himself. Down the line of board members Quinn went.
He stopped for a long handshake and shoulder slap from Senator J. Richard Darling, then came to the microphones. The cameras moved to close-up, and a pan shot as a banner rolled down the balcony rail, COLORADO GOES AMERIGUN.
Order at last. “With enemies like you,” Quinn began,