Chapter Eight
Auralia
The crowd was pouring in.
Mountain Smokey Pig was set up to feed the masses, and a bluegrass band had people's toes tapping as they found their spots and spread their blankets.
In these parts, entertainment could be hard to come by outside of church on Sunday.
And people liked their free food.
Auralia wondered if it was Morrison who was footing the bill, pulling people in to hear his plea, perhaps to garner some good press and build civic support as he headed into jury selection the following week.
Mayor Early, with his belt encircling his rounded belly like an equator line and his pink cheeks brightened by a cheerful smile, didn’t mention Morrison at all.
He simply talked about the beautiful day, the fine music —“Thank you to the Green Horn Boys” — and mentioned the concerning weather.
“Folks, just so you’re aware, we’re cutting things short here today.
I’m sure it won't be a hardship that the speeches were cut in half. But we wanted to give you all plenty of time to grab a plate—have you all tried a fried pickle?”
The crowd cheered.
“You can expect that when you line up for your box. Let’s all be good citizens and make sure all the trash is disposed of properly.
I believe we have some scouts here today who will be roving around with trash bags.
Let’s give our young folks a round of applause, as they learn how to be helpful citizens of our fair county. ”
He waited for that cheer to die down.
“As I was saying, we want you to enjoy your food and the music, have some fellowship, and let the kids run off some energy, but know that we’re keeping an eye on the weather.
My understanding is that we have a second system that has popped up, and we don’t want any injuries as we head home.
Better early and safe than later with problems.” Mayor Early leaned to the side, “How’s that?
” he cupped his hand to his ear. He nodded.
Then faced the crowd again. “Yes, too much good food to waste, and that storm coming on up. I’m sure you folks can feel the wind shifting.
So here’s what we’re going to do. I want everyone to sit tight.
The scouts have been gathered. We’ve borrowed some wagons from the moms and dads, and they’ve been loaded up with meal boxes.
Let’s talk to our neighbors and listen to the music from your picnic spot.
The young’uns are gonna come round with your food and a choice of soda.
” He lifted a piece of paper. “You’ve got bottles of water and sweet tea, then we’ve got cans of cola and diet cola.
It’ll speed things up if you know what you want before they come around. ”
“I want a Mountain Smokey Pig fried pickle.” Doli grumped.
“Oh, hush now, ethics are ethics, please enjoy your sad sandwich.” Auralia turned to pull her lunch bag from her day pack. “What did you bring?”
“Peanut butter and chocolate chip.”
“That sounds good,” she emptied her paper bag of food items and spread them out to serve as a plate.
“I didn’t have a kitchen, so I just have a tuna kit and a can of Mandarin oranges.
” Auralia pulled out her water bottle, then a plastic box.
“Oh, hey, I have pickle-flavored potato chips if you’d like. ” She set them down by Doli.
“Thanks, but that goes with your food, and the fried pickle goes with BBQ, a glass of milk goes with mine.”
“We’ll go out for BBQ tonight.” Auralia popped the lid off her fruit cup.
“Yup, sounds like a plan,” Doli’s words were sticky with peanut butter. “I don’t love that a new front has shown up, and the organizers are figuring out how to boot everyone quickly.” She reached for her napkin. “I bet Kamar and Mohammed are off somewhere, wondering if we were pulling a gag.”
“Free will.” Auralia tore open the mayonnaise packet to mix with the tuna fish. “We did our part. The consequences of their decisions belong to them.”
“Wow, that didn’t sound like you.”
Auralia paused with a cracker in one hand and a plastic spoon in the other. “I’ve got an itchy feeling, Doli. I don’t know what it’s about, but it started when I got the ballistic vests from Gator.”
Doli held up a hand to speak past the bite she’d just taken. “It’s fair to say that bullet-resistant vests are the kind of gift that might make any normal human a bit anxious.”
“True.” Auralia popped the cracker into her mouth and reached for the potato chip box. Once she’d swallowed, she added, “Not necessarily true in this case. Last night, though, I was dreaming about smoke and clatter and something about that got my adrenaline flowing.”
“Smoke and clatter, like me trying to cook?” Doli asked before biting into her sandwich.
“The clatter? Yeah. Metal on metal, I guess it could sound like pots and pans. But I’m remembering a dream.”
“Gunfire smoke?”
“More like a bonfire.” Auralia grabbed a handful of chips, feeling the acidic saltiness on her fingertips.
Auralia had meant to talk all this over with Creed and Gator, but this morning in the bed and breakfast was a special cocoon of time. She and Creed had driven here separately. Then was the big reveal that was more sputter than sparklers, so she’d forgotten, and now the men were at work.
Everything was flowing.
For the next half-hour, people did as they were told.
They waited patiently, gave their drink orders efficiently, and spoke kindly.
The scouts were coming around with the black leaf bags to collect trash.
And there were Mayor Early and Representative Braxton back on the stage.
Auralia and Doli gathered their things, cleaned their area, and went over toward the others who had chosen to stand. The team didn’t want their taping to block people’s view. Doli had her camera up and ready to roll. Auralia clenched a mic in her hand to do intros and outros.
Mayor Early threw a hand overhead and called out, “Round of applause, everyone, for Mountain Smokey Pig and our efficient volunteers.”
That was met with whistles and cheers. But when Early signaled Morrison up, things fell silent.
Doli was rolling tape.
“Good afternoon, neighbors. I’m happy to be victoriously back on the stage with you.
Why, just last year, a terrible person, terrible, got up here, pointed a finger, made wild accusations, and caused me and my good charity a world of disruption.
I am happy to say that I will soon be vindicated.
” His voice sounded like a preacher wanting a hallelujah to rise and punctuate his assertions.
It didn’t get even a whisper. The field was tense.
“I’m about to introduce you to–maybe reintroduce you to your new representative, who swept into his seat in the last special election to replace our beloved Representative Lambton after he resigned.
Representative Braxton is a mighty good man.
But before I bring him up, I was offered an opportunity to have a word with you about another scurrilous woman who has decided to cause my family harm.
Here I am with my wife.” He turned and gestured, and a woman took a step forward, looking miserable.
“That’s my wife, Sheelah, yes. And that’s my daughter, Brandy.
” He gestured again, and the young woman took a step that landed her mostly hidden by her mother.
He turned to the audience. “And you know what? From here, I can see that Miss Rochambeau and Miss Nez are here with their camera and microphone, again stirring up division, messing with our calm and honest community.” He glared in their direction. “No questions this time, ladies.”
Some in the crowd grew restless and shifted over, leaving the reporters alone and exposed.
A few began to boo.
“Now, now, none of that,” Morrison said.
“I actually want to thank Washington News-Herald and World Reports for discovering my true name. Working under a pseudonym was hard. Being two people was psychologically draining. I did it because I’m a humble man, and I didn’t want any of the grace and gratitude to come to me.
So I made up a persona. Now, I know you may have all read some heinous accusations.
But the judge thought it was all kind of silly and let me out on a little bail.
He didn’t see it necessary to stop our charity from doing its good work for the Marines.
So that’s a blessing. Now, I am free from a jail cell, thanks to the generous donations that paid my bail, and thanks to the Washington News-Herald and World Reports for clearing the path to using my given name. Life is simpler and life is good.”
The crowd cheered.
“Like I said, I asked Mayor Early for a moment of your time at the beginning of his speech introducing your new representative. I think that going public is the best way that I can stay safe—me, my wife, and my daughter there.” He stretched out the flat of his hand to indicate the two women, shrinking into the shadows to prevent their public exposure.
“You all might hear in the next day or so that there are accusations that I have a second family.” He shook his head.
“I don’t know about you, but keeping food on the table for one family, keeping a roof over one family’s head, is hard enough.
A rich man might could get away with having two wives, I suppose.
Someone of my mean circumstances could never even dream of such a thing. ”
He let the crowd’s susurration blanket the field.