Authors: Kevin Carrigan
Bonsam’s youth was also tough due to growing up without a father, but he got by with his wits and intelligence. He was rebellious and got into trouble a few times while roaming the mean streets of his neighborhood, but he possessed strong determination and sought to get the best education he could. He graduated from high school with honors and was chosen as the most likely to succeed by his classmates.
Bonsam picked up street smarts as well, all the while establishing the connections that made him well known throughout East St. Louis. His charismatic personality drew others to him. He was smooth and well liked, and he learned how to manipulate others to his advantage. He entered politics and quickly learned how the game was played. He saw the corruption in the political world and he embraced it. Bonsam knew that he was destined for greatness. He knew that he would have extraordinary power, fame and wealth one day, and he would have it no matter who stood in his way.
He embodied arrogance, yet he made all the right moves to advance rapidly in the political world. He even married simply to further his career. Although Bonsam was as misogynistic as they come, during his second term in the Illinois State Senate he contemplated the advantages that having a wife and family would bring to his political career. He felt strongly that he could enhance his career, and more importantly pick up votes in future elections, by portraying himself as a loving husband and father. He decided he would do it, even though the thought of it repulsed him. The trick, he thought, was to find a trophy wife that would stand lovingly by his side when necessary, but otherwise keep the fuck away.
As fate would have it, corrupt Illinois politics dropped the perfect woman into his lap. Her name was Raca Viera.
Raca was the daughter of a man by the name of Eddomo Viera, who was sitting on death row for crimes he did not commit. He was scheduled for execution by lethal injection for the brutal murders of two little boys from his hometown of Granite City. Raca was doing everything she could to fight this injustice, but was having no success.
Viera and his wife had immigrated to the United States from Antigua many years before and had led a simple life in Granite City. They worked hard, built a small but comfortable home, and brought their lovely daughter Raca into the world. Raca grew to be a strikingly beautiful young woman, who following college enjoyed moderate success as a fashion model. Life in America brought the
Vieras
many blessings, however, a cruel twist of fate turned the American dream into a living nightmare.
The nightmare began when two young boys who lived next door to the Viera home disappeared. Police officers descended on the neighborhood and went door to door looking for anyone with information regarding the whereabouts of the boys. Viera, who saw the boys playing in their front yard when he had come home for lunch that day, told the officers everything he had seen. Days went by and the search intensified, but the boys were nowhere to be found.
A week later the boys’ bodies were finally discovered in a shallow grave nearly three miles from their home.
They had been bludgeoned to death, and signs of sexual assault were present. The community was outraged and demanded that the person responsible for this heinous crime be brought to justice. The media blitz surrounding the murders and the police department’s inability to find the killer put intense pressure on City Hall. The mayor insisted an arrest be made, and since Eddomo Viera was the last person to see the children alive, Viera was taken into custody.
The trial that followed was a travesty of epic proportions, due in large part to a hungry new district attorney who was bent on making a name for himself. He knew that prosecuting and convicting the murderer in a high-profile case such as this would surely bring him the fame and recognition he sought, so he went after Viera with a vengeance. He was so determined to win this case that even after evidence was uncovered that would have exonerated Viera, he swept the evidence under the rug. Viera was found guilty on two counts of capital murder, while the real murderer walked freely about, capable of killing again.
As the execution date drew near, Raca traveled to the state capitol to plead for clemency. She provided the governor with information about the mishandling of evidence, overt errors made by the defense during the trial and the appeal, witness tampering, and even sworn statements by people involved in the case who claimed that the DA hid information crucial to proving her father’s innocence. The governor, who was a fraternity brother of the DA, listened to her pleas for mercy, but in the end he detached himself from the entire situation and allowed the execution to proceed as scheduled.
Out of desperation, Raca decided to go to the office of her state senator, who at that time was Emmanuel Bonsam, in hopes that there was some way he could help. She tried to remain calm as she explained her plight to Senator Bonsam’s secretary, but she was frantic on the inside. The secretary showed sympathy and asked Raca to have a seat while she spoke to Senator Bonsam. Several minutes later the secretary returned and indicated that the senator would see her now, and then she ushered Raca into Bonsam’s office.
Bonsam stood as she entered the room and politely welcomed her in. She found Bonsam respectful and exceptionally handsome, but she became slightly disturbed as she shook his hand. His hand felt as cold as ice. Bonsam offered her a seat in front of his desk as he returned to his own seat behind it. He sat with his elbows on the desk and his fingertips pressed together in front of him, occasionally nodding his head, as he appeared to be concentrating on the story Raca was telling him, however, nothing could be further from the truth.
He heard the story, yes, but his mind was more focused on Raca herself.
Bonsam secretly glanced admiringly at Raca as she went on. He found her dark smooth skin, long flowing hair, and slender body to be remarkably attractive. In his mind he pictured her holding his hand as they walked across a stage, smiling and waving to voters at a rally. They looked like the perfect couple. He knew that Raca would be perfect for the role of Mrs. Emmanuel Bonsam.
Bonsam snapped out of his daydream just as Raca said to him, “Please, can you help us? I would do anything to save my father.”
Bonsam stood and again shook her hand and said with false sincerity, “I’ll do everything I can. Make an appointment with my secretary for tomorrow afternoon and I’ll share with you what I have found.”
“Thank you, Senator,” Raca said as she vigorously shook his hand. “Thank you so much.” She exited happily through his office doorway, but strangely, the disturbing feeling within her still remained.
As the office door closed behind her, Bonsam smiled and said, “Jackpot!” He sat back down and made several phone calls and a few shady deals, and in less than an hour he had found a way to have Eddomo Viera pardoned.
When Raca returned the next day, Bonsam was direct and to the point: He would see that her father was pardoned in return for her hand in marriage. He went on to explain that if she ever mentioned this proposal to anyone, her father would die and there would be no way for her to prove a word of what he had said. Out of love for her father, she grudgingly accepted the offer.
They were soon married. Bonsam was cold and unloving toward Raca and they never even consummated the marriage, but Bonsam kept her in a nice home and provided for her generously. He used his clout to get her a high level job at UNICEF’s Midwest Regional Office in Chicago as a development coordinator, which kept her away just as he desired. He constantly arranged photo ops of her standing up for humanitarian causes, and then plastered the photos all over his webpage and newsletters.
At public events he would tell the crowds he was deeply proud of her work. His lovely wife brought him the votes he so wanted, but
Raca’s
life was empty, and through it all she knew she was just a pawn in Bonsam’s world.
Several years later, Bonsam realized that to the voters, the novelty of his adoring wife had worn off. He insisted that Raca bear him a child, again only for show, which she sorrowfully did in 1996. Bonsam knew that the publicity surrounding his newborn son would capture the attention of the voters in his district, especially senior citizens who were suckers for cute babies. He hoped that the elderly would vote for him in droves, then go off and die and quit being such a burden on society.
Obimpé Bonsam was the spitting image of his father, but Bonsam spent almost no time with him. By the time Bonsam had become a U.S. Senator, he used his status as an excuse to keep Obimpé out of the public eye, and had him locked down in a private military academy.
Bonsam only saw his son once or twice a year, and even when he did, it was staged to create a news event, such as the annual, heartwarming, proudly-welcoming-home-Obimpé-for-Christmas media spectacle.
When Bonsam became president, he wanted to keep Raca further away from him, yet increase her visibility on the world stage for his own selfish motives. He coerced UNICEF into making her a Goodwill Ambassador, which Bonsam used to his advantage. The beautiful first lady was constantly in the news shown in the worst places in the world visiting destitute orphans and children with AIDS and victims of famine and women injured by landmines and on and on as the media spun her up as the next Mother Teresa.
Raca proved to be valuable to Bonsam, especially now as she drew some of the attention away from his failing presidency. However, Raca died just a little bit more inside with every appearance. She prayed that someday she would step on a landmine herself, and escape the misery of being a prisoner of Emmanuel Bonsam.
Chapter 5
The Clark Express had been rolling down the highway since early in the morning. Governor Clark and his campaign team were on the road visiting the Super Tuesday states. Even though he was the only Republican on the ballots, he could not just sit back and wait for the presidential election. It was now critical for him to emphasize his message to the voters in preparation for the showdown with Senator Kirk in November.
Brett Mason joined Clark at the workstation in the center of the bus. “Good afternoon, Gov,” he said.
“Good afternoon, Brett. What do you have for me?” said Clark as he looked over the newspaper he was reading.
“Sir, everything is running according to plan. Your message is getting out and the voters are loving it. Well done, Gov.”
Clark lowered the newspaper. “The voters will love any message so long as it’s not the same as Bonsam’s.”
“This is true. However, our polling indicates that we are striking a chord with the disillusioned Democrats, the same voters Senator Kirk is after. We need to keep this momentum because sooner or later these voters will see that Kirk is not just another Bonsam. When that happens, we’ll start losing them,” Mason bluntly stated.
“I know, Brett. That’s why I want to shift attention to selecting my VP running mate. Everywhere we have gone the first question the reporters ask is who will be my running mate. Selecting my running mate early could work to our advantage. Who is on the short list?” Clark asked.
Mason looked puzzled. “You want that already?”
“Yes, Brett, I do. And make sure the Speaker of the House is on that list.” Clark knew that demanding the Speaker be on the short list would ruffle Mason’s feathers, because Mason had repeatedly stated that he did not think it was such a good idea for Clark to run with a female VP candidate. “I’m going to the back of the bus to grab a nap while you get to work,” said Clark as he got up from his seat.
“Right, boss,” said Mason, as he contemplated offering the bus driver $50 to slam on the brakes in 10 minutes.
Born and raised in the farm country of Midland County, Michigan, Samuel Clark grew up with a passion for fishing and hunting. His father was an avid outdoorsman who taught Clark and his two older brothers how to cast a line before they could walk.
He also taught them how to shoot. By the time he was seven, Clark was picking off rabbits and squirrels with his brother’s pellet gun. Of the three Clark boys, Sam was by far the best shot. He also had the strongest love for guns.
Clark never missed a chance to go hunting with his father. He bagged a 6-point buck at the age of twelve. His father continued to teach him about hunting every opportunity he could get. The year he turned fourteen, his father gave him a brand new .30-06 rifle for Christmas. If it wasn’t hunting season, Clark spent every spare minute he could find popping shots into tin cans for target practice.