Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sometimes people surprised Natalie.
Okay, often people surprised her but this time it was actually in a good way.
“I will gladly live without my cell phone and electricity for a day if it means getting rid of this menace,” Margaret Trout said standing from her chair in front of the large group assembled later that day.
Liam had just proposed his plan to weaken the brain ghost and Margaret, who used to be as contrary as possible until she experienced what it was like to be attacked, was on board.
“I agree. I hate that stupid phone. Only carry it because my daughter makes me,” a man in the back commented. “But I gotta warn you, the wife is going to be mad to miss her stories if there’s no TV.”
“No problem about the phone. I never remember to charge mine anyway,” a lady up front said. “But won’t our food spoil in the fridge with no power?”
“Studies show if you don’t open the door, it will maintain a low enough temperature to keep the food in both the freezer and the refrigerator at an acceptable temperature to prevent spoilage and defrosting for twenty-four hours,” Liam, always full of facts, said.
“Also, thanks to Dee for calling a contact at a local fast-food restaurant over in Sidney. If you’re worried about your food, they agreed to provide ice from their machine, free of charge, for anyone who brings in a cooler,” Agnes added, earning her a nod from Dee seated next to her.
“If we’re going to have no power all night, I have a couple cases of emergency candles at the hardware store. I’ll sell them for cost. Limit of one per customer though, so no one’s left in the dark.”
“Thank you, Chris.” Liam nodded.
“We’ve got a bunch of old kerosene lanterns at the farm. We could probably loan those out for anyone who needs one,” Red’s boyfriend, Cash Morgan, offered. “And Red said she’s fine with closing the thrift shop for a day. She could use the time off.”
Natalie stepped forward, bolstered by the good will. “We have a hardwired landline here at the shop, so anyone who only owns a cell phone and needs to make a call is welcome to come here to make it.”
“I have a landline too for my fax machine. You can come to my office to make calls too,” the village lawyer Dee Flanders said.
“I know it’s going to be a huge inconvenience for everyone.
And I’m afraid it’s going to be up to you all to spread the word to friends and neighbors who aren’t here and convince them this is absolutely necessary or we wouldn’t have suggested it,” Natalie said, suspecting there were at least a few among the population who wouldn’t embrace this plan.
“We got it, Natalie. Don’t worry,” Agnes said. “We’ve got the phone tree.”
“And I can be very persuasive,” Alice chimed in.
“I’m a member of the board of the church over in Sidney. They’ll still have power while Mudville is out. I’ll text the others on the board, but I’m sure they’ll let us hang out there the night we’re in the dark,” someone else offered.
“I can bring some old board games and puzzles over. We can make a game night out of it,” another added.
“And I can transport anyone to the church who needs a ride. I fit eight kids in my minivan for baseball practice.”
“Hey, that brings up a good point. What about our car batteries?” someone asked.
“So far it seems to prefer the smaller rechargeable batteries,” Liam said.
“That’s true. None of our cars have gone dead. Just our cell phones.” Harper nodded.
The murmur of cross chatter that spread through the room sounded miraculously positive.
Liam twisted to shoot a glance back at Natalie, who’d positioned herself out of the direct line of fire behind him.
She flashed him a double thumbs-up and a grin.
With a look of hope, he turned back to face the crowd. They’d filled all of the upholstered seating and every one of the meager offering of folding chairs and then lined the walls in what had become a last minute but packed meeting.
“Stone, what are your thoughts?” Liam asked.
Stone, looking more farmer than mayor, stood next to his two brothers along the front windows.
The three of them, clad in muddy boots and dirt-tinged denim, was proof Liam’s call had dragged them away from their work at Morgan Farm.
Stone let out a sigh. “Obviously, we’re in uncharted territory here.
I don’t think we’ve ever cut the power to the whole village before.
Technically, I think we need to hold a public meeting, publicized in the local paper, then take a vote of the village trustees.
And I’m not even sure we can cut the power.
We need to submit an official request to the power company, but it’s already after business hours on a Friday—”
“Jeezus, Stone. Quit acting like the mayor.” Cash scowled.
Stone returned his brother’s scowl. “I can’t because I am the mayor.”
“Then you better close your ears,” Boone, the youngest Morgan, said before singling out a man in the crowd. “Glenn, you still work for the power company?”
“About to retire next month, but for now, yeah, I still do,” an older man standing in the rear called back, loud and clear.
“I heard there’s supposed to be some wind blowing in tonight. What do you think the chances are that it could knock out power in the whole village?” Boone asked.
“I think that chances are good that could happen. Probably just after dinner time. Might last a bit before it comes back on too,” Glenn answered with a smirk.
“Is that so?” Boone grinned, showing off that though he was the youngest, he could be just as cocky as his older brother Cash.
“We’ve got an emergency notification system up at the firehouse for things like when the river floods. Chief, can we send out an alert the village residents to prepare for a possible power outage?” Cash, a volunteer firefighter, asked.
A man wearing a Mudville Fire Department T-shirt nodded. “I think that can be arranged.”
Stone, defeated by his own brothers and their network of connections finally let out a breath. “Liam, you’re sure this is necessary?”
As if the evil brain ghost was listening, which it might well be and it was probably pissed at what they were planning, the lights in the meeting room buzzed then flickered.
Everyone looked up at the bulbs, until someone said, “My cell phone battery is dead.”
Then everyone was looking down at their own devices and confirming theirs too were drained.
Liam bit out a curse, then looked to Stone. “It’s necessary.”
Stone, not a fan of any paranormal activity, nodded. “All right. Do what you gotta do.”
There had to be over fifty people packed in the room. Maybe more. In a village with a population of about a thousand, for an unofficial meeting called on just hours’ notice, that was pretty amazing.
More amazing was that Mudville had come together and, at least the ones in the room, had actually agreed not only with the plan, but with each other.
So there was only one worry left for Natalie. Was it going to be enough? Or was it all too little too late?
And was Liam, in the Jeep alone with the brain for however long it took to drive to Dean in Virginia, going to be the next victim?