In the meantime, it was time to plead my case to Ely.
“So, Ely, the reason we came out here to talk to you—”
“Besides needing towing help,” he interjected, settling back in his Adirondack.
“Besides that,” I agreed. “The reason is that we have a very important piece of legislation we’re working to get passed. A game changer for Texas.”
Ely nodded. “Figured it was something like that.” He put up a hand. “Give me a second.” He rooted around next to him and pulled up an unmarked bottle. “Can’t talk politics without something to take the edge off.” He untwisted the cap and poured a healthy amount into a tin cup.
Forgetting our stalemate, Ben and I looked at each other over the fire. “What is that?” I asked.
“Moonshine.” Ely handed me the cup. “My own recipe. This stuff’ll put hair on your chest. Might be a little tough to handle on your rabbit diet.”
“Ely, you have no idea.” I drank heartily, and—ouch. That burned like gasoline. But I didn’t bat an eye, which earned me a raised brow. Then Ely got busy pouring for Ben and himself.
“All right,” he said, when he’d taken his first sip. “Continue.”
I looked at Ben, and he made a “by all means” gesture. And even though I couldn’t tell if it was because he thought I was the best at persuasion, or because he was torturing me with the largest burden of work, I forged ahead.
“I’m going to lay our cards on the table, Ely. We want to pass a bill to help combat climate change by switching all state vehicles to electric cars.”
He whistled. “Expensive. Could you even run electric vehicles reliably out here? Don’t they need charging stations every few miles?”
“The bill would make a massive investment in infrastructure to support the change,” Ben piped in. “That might be the most important part, actually.”
“We’re hoping with the infrastructure in place, people will feel safer buying electric.” I added something I hadn’t told anyone else: “We’re aiming for the majority of vehicles driven in Texas to be electric within the next seven years.” Three to four years for infrastructure building, I estimated, three to four for culture change.
Ely took a long sip of his moonshine, and I followed suit. “You did say Texas, right? Not California?”
“Yes. Texas.”
“They even doing this out in California?”
I shook my head. “Texas would be the leader.”
“Well, that’s something. The old statehouse boys will like that, at least. Even better if you can tell them the ACLU’s against it.” Ely squinted into the dark. “Hard to picture charging stations out here in Corsicare. Plugging in my truck like it’s a children’s toy.”
“Not too hard,” I countered. “Just picture a gas station, and replace the gas pumps with electric.”Honestly.
That got a little smile out of Ely. “Where you going to get the money for all that building and buying?”
Oh, yeah—this guy knew politics. It was always about the money.
“We’re raising taxes just a smidge on the wealthiest 10 percent and ending tax loopholes for corporations.” I took another sip. “All those big companies that relocated to Texas after the recession can cough up to invest in the state’s health.”
Ely whistled. “Your funeral. Though it is nice to think of someone standing up to them for a change...” He swept a hand at the land around us. “Used to be I could make a good living, before all those conglomerate meatpacking firms moved in. Now it’s hard to scrape by.”
“Those companies should at the very least pay their share.” Ben scooted closer to the fire. “And it’s the same with the oil and gas companies—everyone bends over backward for them, without considering whether it’s the best way. We think it’s time Texas stepped into the future. A lot of the old ways worked—I’m not saying they didn’t—but a lot of the new ways are better.”
I frowned, studying Ben’s face in the firelight. He was looking at Ely intently, his dark eyebrows drawn, the muscles in his jaw working. It sounded like Ben was talking about something bigger than electric vehicles and corporate taxes.
Ely smiled ruefully and held out his tin cup to clink against Ben’s. “I suppose you’re right.”
Interesting: Ely harbored sympathy for the little guy and was open to change. I could use that.
“Do you want to hear more about what we’re planning?” I asked. “More about the bill? To be completely transparent, we’re here because we know you’re close to Senator Wayne and we’re hoping you’ll convince him to vote for our legislation.”
Ely was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Tell me about this future you want. What does it look like? Paint me a picture. More than cars—broad strokes.”
