A National Affair

Chapter 5: Bill Dewey's Not-So-Wild Day

Bill Dewey was a man who truly understood the amount of chaos that existed in this world. He knew of the constant dangers that threatened his dear Beach City, and most importantly, he knew the most he could do was try to assure the voters that things were under control.

More often than not, the situation tended not to be. It was one of the many drawbacks to being a citizen of such an isolationist state. Delmarva was never very keen on the federal government interfering in their affairs, and though this mindset was always impressed on him by other government officials, Bill found it hard to adopt those ideals. What was the point of having a larger body of government if you wanted nothing from it and nothing to do with it?

Early in his career, he somehow managed to get elected, relatively unnoticed by Delmarva's legislature. Following a nearly disastrous storm that threatened to cripple the city entirely, the freshly inaugurated Mayor Dewey attempted to procure funding from Washington D.C., in hopes that they'd provide some form of relief to help speed up recovery.

A savage beating and the disappearance of his wife was the ultimate result of that attempt. While he still had his son, he had been left hollow. Politics, something he had constantly romanticized in his head, became something far more sinister. There was never any information on the status of his wife, and the thinly-veiled threats towards his only child were enough to keep him in line.

That was how he learned the lesson of never trying to overstep one's boundaries, as dictated by the higher-ups. You were liable to lose everything that way.

But over the course of the years, Bill Dewey, at the very least, began to at least find purpose again. His town needed somebody, anybody, to step into the crosshairs and be the mayor. He already had the experience, and the alarmist tendencies, to properly hold the office and keep everyone in the dark.

Delmarva was a beautiful gem in a rampantly defiled world, despite the extremely shady operations that the state conducted. Was it a massive conspiracy? Possibly. Perhaps the younger Bill Dewey would have looked into it, but this man that currently sat in his office knew better.

He knew there was no fighting a force so much more powerful than your own. Instead, he simply did his job.

And for the day, his job was done.

Inside of his office, the Mayor briefly glanced to his right. The sun was going down, meaning he had already stayed a good hour past his official obligations. It was hard to balance the immense amount of paperwork alongside schmoozing the public. Still, the workday had ended, and he felt a bit of regret at having kept his bodyguards waiting this long. They were posted at opposite corners at the wall opposite of him, flanking his office door. The two men were both dutiful and loyal, and likely would have been willing to stay as long as needed for him to finish his work.

But he wasn't about to do that to them. Standing, Bill reached for his coat and hung it over his arm. He dismissed them, assuring them that he would be fine until tomorrow morning. It had been a fairly placid week, with very little happening in the way of monsters attacking and gigantic sand pillars randomly rising from the beach.

After they had left, he slouched back into his swivel chair, letting his coat drop to the floor. Sighing loudly, Bill reached into the left-hand drawer of his desk and pulled out a small glass and a bottle of scotch. The man sat that for a full minute, staring at his desk while thinking about nothing in particular.

Almost surprising himself, he began to speak.

"Scotch on the rocks, please!"

He took on an incredulous look, shifting his voice to being a bit more feminine, "Are you crazy? You can't put ice in scotch!"

His voice went back to normal, "Of course I can! I'm Bill Dewey, future mayor of Beach City!"

Scoffing, he lifted the glass and pointed at it, "Well, Mister 'Future-Mayor-of-Beach-City', I know a thing or two about this stuff. Scotch on the rocks is a sin."

A sly expression appeared on his face, "Then call me a sinner, lady. But I might be tempted to change my ways in exchange for something."

"Oh?"

Bill stopped, staring at his own reflection on the sticky surface of his glass. The years were getting to him.

"Yeah," he answered himself slowly. "A fair deal. I'll stop drinking scotch with ice, if you go to dinner with me."

"You're out of your mind!"

He smiled softly and put down the glass. It was soon filled.

Sinking into his seat, the Mayor took a drink and replied. "Maybe, but can't you find it in your heart to help redeem a sinner?"

He laughed. It was meant to be her laugh, but could never match the real deal. The real thing wasn't melodic. It was harsh and biting, but he managed to crack through it and find the warmth hidden beneath it all.

Bill Dewey missed her terribly. But he still had a boy to look after and a town to run. Taking one last drink, he put the glass and the bottle away and locked the drawer.

As he was getting ready to truly leave, he spotted something peculiar lying in the "In" bin that he hadn't looked at yet. The town's seal reflected the little light left in the office. Sighing to himself, the Mayor sat back down and pulled the paper out.

It was a housing verification form. Such a thing was the byproduct of a by-law that wasn't very significant in any way. It would have been easier to get rid of the by-law, but Bill Dewey learned long ago that it was best to play with the cards you were dealt than try to ask the dealer for a different hand.

Skimming through it, the Mayor came to the names of both parties.

He knew Fryman quite well, and it was no surprise that he saw his name there. Those apartments of his were usually rented annually, but there were a few that never really had a consistent dweller. That aside, the second name caught his attention. M. Thayer? An unusual last name. By Delmarva standards, at least.

Mayor Dewey couldn't recall a time when he rejected any housing forms for whatever reason, though he found himself drawn to this case in particular. Four months' rent was already wired to Fryman, and in the standard currency of the United States. It was a bit over five thousand dollars, which translated to about eight thousand Delmarvan dollars. It was no paltry sum by any reasonable standard, and it made the Mayor all the more curious.

Who exactly was this outsider? He or she seemed to have some sway with the banking system over at the "Mainland". Further investigation revealed that this person was apparently a customer of a federal credit union in New York. "Federal Hall Credit Union." From what he could tell, it was well-connected enough to weave its way between official tariffs and taxes established by Delmarva to help promote its isolationist style.

Such a thing was surprising to hear. Bill Dewey didn't know how to feel about that sort of connection.

Nonetheless, he approved it. Money was money, after all, and more money put into the town was more money to fund local projects. Thankfully, the recently-passed, and mandatory, insurance pushed by the state tended to cover all of the costs of the disasters, so funds could be directed elsewhere.

Still, Bill felt somewhat unsatisfied. He wanted to know more about this person. Why was he or she here? Taking his seal-stamp, he pressed it down onto the paper and made a few copies at the nearby printer. The genuine one was put in the "Out" tray for sorting tomorrow, while he folded two copies and tucked them into his coat pocket. Finally ready to leave, he gathered his things, left, and locked the door behind himself.

Bill Dewey didn't quite like the dragged out process of letting the mail take care of important documents. While he normally wouldn't deliver them himself, he was hoping he could pry some information from Fryman about the newcomer. So, he made his way to the Beach Citywalk Fries, a small shack by the boardwalk that seemed to exclusively deal in potato-based products. Not that he knew, of course. The Mayor didn't have a taste for fried foods, so he never found a reason to order anything or go there other than to chat with one of the locals or promote his campaign.

However, as he rounded the corner to said establishment, Bill could hear a conversation already playing out. The sun was getting closer to the horizon, and his steps slowed somewhat. Two children ran off after a brief conversation with two adults at the shack. It was that one Universe kid, who was followed by trouble everywhere he went, and the younger Fryman. Peewee, he thought the name was. Greg Universe, also a local entrepreneur, and Fryman greeted him as he came within sight.

Flashing a smile, the Mayor pulled out one of the copies of the document and handed it over to Fryman, "Evening, fellas. Here's a copy of that housing form."

Fryman smiled back, "Thanks, Mayor! You work pretty quick."

Taking a moment to stroke his ego, Bill couldn't help but wholeheartedly agree. "Just a part of the job, fellas. I'm just doing my part to serve the fair people of Beach City."

"I was actually just talking to Greg about this guy." Fryman tucked the paper into his back pocket. "Weird coincidence, huh?"

So, it was a man. He knew that much now.

"Oh? Is he at his apartment now?"

Fryman shrugged, "I don't think so, Mayor. I saw him around the library earlier today, but Ronaldo says he went east out of town." His expression fell flat. "I still need to talk to him about that. Ronaldo busted into the house with a bunch of maps, saying Morgan was a government spy or agent or something."

Greg didn't look too surprised, "Kids'll be kids."

Mayor Dewey didn't quite understand what any of that was about, but mentally pocketed the part regarding spies and such. He was more than a bit surprised when that one Fryman kid had nearly cracked the conspiracy regarding the Authority, amongst other things. It was something to look into at a later time.

The Mayor checked his watch briefly, with Greg noticing and commenting. "Yeah, I should probably head back to the Wash. It's getting late." He waved and turned towards the business in question. There was a short pause in his stride as realization hit him, "You know, I think I left the hoses on. That's not good." The man hurried off as Fryman began closing down the shack.

Dewey made small conversation until he decided it was time to get back home. Giving his goodbyes, he walked towards it with the second copy in hand. He had intended to deliver it personally, but it was going to get darker soon. It wasn't as if the confirmation was really necessary for a person to live anywhere, so he had time. Two weeks in fact, due to a law protecting renters for at least that long before they received approval.

Enough of that, though. He wasn't at work. All Bill wanted to do was go home, have some dinner his son, and just watch some TV until he fell asleep. There wasn't time for anything else.

It was harder to stick to that than he assumed it would be, however. As a small, grey robot waited for a car to pass before it crossed the street onto his side. Despite how often he had seen strange sights, this was entirely new. The robot seemed to ignore him entirely, casually moving past him and into a grate next to a building. It disappeared from sight, though he could still hear it moving around down there in the sewer.

Mayor Dewey opened his mouth, then closed it. He was going to say something, but what it that was forgotten almost immediately. The man remained tight-lipped until he got home, where a pent-up sigh found its release. It was probably for the best that he forgot what he saw and simply went continued his day as normal.

Of course, he wasn't fooling anyone, especially not himself.

There never was much of a "normal" day in Beach City. But of course, there was still plenty of work to do. Before heading into the kitchen, where the smell of pizza and seafood likely originated from, Bill set down his briefcase and coat in his study.

Taking out a bottle of scotch and a clean glass, he poured himself just a little bit. For a brief moment, he wondered if it was obvious during his short-lived conversation with Universe and Fryman that he was a bit hazy in the head. They didn't seem like the attentive sort, so he dismissed that worry. Still, he found himself staring at the glass.

In the other room, his son was talking on the phone, barely audible through what was probably a slice of pizza. Exhaling loudly, Bill took the glass and dumped its contents in the nearby potted fern. He set the glass down and opened the door, ready to go meet his son at the dinner table. Maybe some time together could calm his nerves a bit.

But as he exited, he wondered something comparably tame to all the other thoughts on his mind at the moment.

Can alcohol kill plants?

He thought on that, not realizing he was merely distracting himself from all the other concerns he had to address.

A/N: Small chapter to break up the flow a bit, drop some hints, provide backstory, etc.. I always liked Mayor Dewey as a character. Seems like a decent guy once you get past the fact he loses his shit pretty quickly and doesn't seem like he has a strong tolerance to weird things happening.

Anyway, next chapter is going to be more exciting. I'll talk about that a bit, and then the feel I'm going for in this story.

Next chapter, not to spoil anything too important I hope, will have all the good stuff you wouldn't want to associate with Steven Universe. By that, I mean some death, darker themes, minor gore, etc.. When I was thinking about writing this story, I was wondering what it would be like to apply real world casualness in comparison to the almost idyllic overtones of the show. There's obviously a bunch of underlying things that show that not everything is all rosy (the Cluster, for example), but I wanted to extend that a bit.

So I thought, why not insert someone into that world who's fairly casual about that sort of stuff? Clearly an experienced, traveled and tough person who doesn't mind the insane amount of danger in the world (and responds similarly), would clash a bit with the general tone of the show, right? I assumed that, I guess. So I set up some history about what happened, where, and why in regards to Delmarva. The bastard child of the American Civil War. There's going to be a lot of focus on that in later chapters.

The general feel I'm going for is that there's a lot going on in the background of the show that isn't shown. Who knows if canon will ever cover that, but I thought I'd give a try and elaborate on that.

I was going to say more, but I gave up trying to finish these notes. Way too long. Hope you liked the chapter, etc..

Until next time.

P.S.: I realized that towards the end of last chapter, I wrote "clip" instead of "magazine". Unforgivable.