"Elections belong to the people." - Abraham Lincoln
The quiet man sat stoically, in his dark suit, barely moving a muscle. His keen eyes watched like a hawk as people filtered into the room. Subtle conversation and basic chatter filled the community center in a subdued volume. It was like someone was having a dinner party at a library. People weren't sure how loud or how much they could talk so they toed the line between boisterous and subdued. Even with the constrained mood, there was excitement in the air. People talked about the future, about hope, about prosperity. They spoke with passion of their convictions and why they felt the way they did. Most were like-minded, some were of differing opinions. But even they stopped short of open conflict and agreed to let their actions determine the outcome.
The man's attention was laser-focused when people approached the machine one at a time. Most ignored him, considering him part of the system even equating him with the machine itself. Others smiled and gave polite nods, which he would return out of decorum. Morning wore on into the afternoon. Only twice did the man leave his post to go to the bathroom and grab some water and a quick snack.
He kept his eye on the machine. He watched with earnest intensity as the people inserted their paper into it. He made sure it fed in correctly and the paper was read and acknowledged. His attention never wavered as the day wore on.
When the time came and the last person fed their ballot into the machine, he rose, checked the readout, and began the process of closing up the machine.
He nodded and thanked those who had volunteered to help out at the voting center as he pushed the machine past them and out the door.
Two large men met him outside and offered to help him push the machine up the ramp into the van. The man smiled.
"I thank you for your generosity, gentlemen, but it is my sworn duty not to let anyone touch the machine."
They smiled knowing smiles and wished him a good evening as he secured his precious cargo and drove away.
Two miles down the road he turned off into the empty parking lot of an abandoned store. He pulled around back where a larger truck sat waiting.
Without a word, he opened his doors and pulled his machine out. The other driver opened his doors revealing dozens of identical machines and exchanged him one for the original.
The driver secured his new machine with the same care he had before then resumed toward his original destination.
He pulled up to a warehouse surrounded by a chain-link fence and showed his identification. The guard directed him to the proper bay for unloading.
"Any problems?" the attendant asked as they carefully unloaded the machine for processing.
"Everything went off without a hitch," the man said.
He returned to his own car and checked his bank account before pulling away. He smiled as the guard waved him through and started thinking of the things he would buy with his newly acquired fifty thousand dollars.
He didn't know about the leak in his brake line until it was too late.
