Chapter Twelve #2
The town hall is still in its original building—a grand old three-story building housing the library and city council.
A hundred or so people are already seated when we sneak in to stand at the back.
Molly the mayor is at the lectern, trying to calm some commotion.
And she’s still in her morning meditational yoga gear with her red hair tied back in a bun atop her head, instead of her professional attire.
Guess this meeting really is an emergency.
“We’re not the church, Wade,” she says. “Excommunicating them is a smidgeon beyond our powers.”
This can’t be about us. Seriously.
Bernadette rises from her seat.
Molly sighs. “I know what you’re going to say, Bernie, and—”
“Oh, don’t you try that psychic nonsense with me,” says the older woman. “Letting them stay after what they did would be wrong.”
Standing beside me, Nash’s one working eye is as wide as can be beneath the brim of his baseball hat.
The other is turning the most delightful shades of black and blue.
I don’t know if he thought the hat would make him harder to recognize.
However, given the couple of glares and curious glances we’re getting, it doesn’t appear to be working.
His hand rubs up and down my spine supportively. And I appreciate the contact. It’s doubtful anything we did would please Bernadette. But this many people gathering to discuss us seems extreme. Neither Grandma, Charlie, nor Angus chose to come with us. Which was probably the right decision.
“I don’t know about that. We forgave your daughter for getting drunk, stealing a tractor, and driving it into the duck pond that time,” says someone in the front.
Bernadette huffs. “For heaven’s sake, that was over forty years ago. The girl was sixteen. And at least she didn’t lie.”
“What are you talking about?” argues Sabrina. “She still denies doing it to this day. Which is ridiculous, considering she drove the damn thing down Main Street at midday while wearing her prom queen sash. How many innocent waterfowl were harmed by Sheila’s actions? Answer me that, Bernie!”
Bernadette’s face is thunder. “Those birds were wild. Anything could have killed them. And how dare you besmirch my family name when it was your second cousin Greta riding her lawnmower back and forth to the grocery store after she lost her license cause her eye sight got so bad.”
“Yeah, but Greta didn’t run anyone over,” says Sabrina. “Avian or otherwise.”
“She wasn’t averse to stopping for a cocktail or three at the bar before riding home though, was she?”
Sabrina gasps in outrage. She doesn’t, however, deny it. I want to meet Greta. She sounds like a legend.
“You know, this is just like that time the sherif shot himself in the foot showing off his skills to some girls,” says some dude in a Grateful Dead tee standing off to the side.
Sabrina frowns. “How is that similar?”
“Sometimes people do stupid shit,” he explains.
“That’s true,” says Carter, with his brows drawn down. “They really do. Mindbogglingly stupid.”
Mayor Molly nods. “And we as a community can choose to show what beautiful spirits we are and be benevolent and open-minded about such unfortunate situations.”
Which is when Father Frank takes a stand. “Forgiveness isn’t always divine. Sometimes it’s just weak!”
“Maybe a little less hellfire and brimstone there, Father.”
“I wasn’t finished,” says Bernadette, with a fierce frown and a piece of paper in her hand. “This has the signatures of eighteen citizens demanding the immediate removal of those two individuals.”
Rose snorts. “You are aware this is a free country, right?”
“Eighteen?” asks Isa from the coffee shop. “You could only get eighteen people to sign?”
An older man gets to his feet, aided by his walking stick, and says, “I don’t like his music. We should get rid of him.”
“Dad, sit down,” says Sabrina. “You don’t even listen to music.”
“We don’t need rich people coming in here and ruining everything and changing the town,” says Gordon, the antique store owner. Given the deal he got on Nash’s watch, the man could afford to be on our side.
“I want you to feel heard, Gordon,” says town mayor and psychic counselor Molly.
“To know that your opinion matters. If I can just gently point out here, however, that you are in fact completely wrong. Because what has Nash done besides join almost every community group and support their endeavors?”
“Those recent anonymous donations had to have been made by him,” adds Carmen. “Who else has that kind of money to throw around?”
Bernadette does not seem pleased to hear this news. “I refuse to be bought by some rockstar drug-taking, sex-pervert type!”
Subdued murmuring seems vaguely supportive of this stance. Which has me worried.
“Remember the guy who tried to keep a raccoon as a pet?” asks Rose. “Now that was some stupid shit.”
“Oh my gosh, yes,” says Molly. “His aura was so green. Such a nature lover. But maybe not always making the best choices. Didn’t he also try to hug a bear?”
“Yeah. When he was high once,” confirms Rose.
“And we as a community chose not to judge him.” Molly sighs.
“Well…I mean, not much. He was the main topic of conversation for a while there. In the bar and the bakery, the diner and the coffee shop. There was also a heated debate about him one time in the laundromat. My point here is—we didn’t try to run him out of town. ”
“How about the swingers club they used to have in the eighties?” asks Isa with a smile. “There are people here who have done things. This isn’t the first scandal we’ve survived.”
Carmen nods. “And they weren’t asked to leave town either. Used to hold it after the weekly bowling tournament. Mom would joke it was the only way they could tell whose clothes belonged to who. Because their names were on the shirts.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” says Bernie piously. “It sounds positively shocking.”
“She doth protest too much,” whispers Nash.
And I choke down a laugh. This is serious business after all.
“You wouldn’t believe how much money me and my friends made babysitting those nights,” says a lady from the local grocery store. And various people smile and laugh, which has to be a positive sign. “We got together, unionized, and charged them premium rates.”
“My favorite one is the guy who kept getting himself arrested back in the seventies because he enjoyed the sheriff’s wife’s cooking so much,” says Wade.
“That was my grandaddy,” shouts someone nearby.
“Didn’t they wind up running off to Florida together?” asks Rose. “Him and the sheriff’s wife?”
Molly grins. “He was also my grandpa, and they certainly did. Not that Grandma minded. She moved in with the widow of the funeral home director from the next town over and lived her best life.”
“They were very happy together,” says Bernadette. “My second husband was buried by Veronica and Shirley.”
Then some white man gets to his feet. “Are we going to talk about the proposed data center build on the edge of town?”
“Fuck you and your data center, Phil. We need our water, not your AI slop,” says Molly, to a robust round of applause.
“Now to ease us gently back into what we were discussing. So June and Nash lied to each and every one of us. Told us a tangled web of falsehoods about who they were and made us believe deep in our hearts that they were our new true and beloved friends.”
“It actually sounds way worse when you put it that way,” says Carmen.
“I’m just trying to be honest and present a balanced point of view.” Molly smiles benevolently at the crowd. “We thought that they were bright and kindred spirits here to join our community. And I know we welcomed them with open arms and cherished them against our bosom.”
“Not my bosom,” says Bernadette with great conviction.
“The betrayal cuts, I know. And we need to leave space for those feelings. But I would ask, who here among us has never told a lie?”
Father Frank puts up his hand.
This emergency town meeting feels a lot like being put on trial. There’s a good chance we should have stayed away. Far away.
Which is when the young barista gets to his feet. “So does this mean June’s single or what?”
“No, she is not,” shouts Nash. “Sit your ass back down, you clown.”
“Oh,” says Mayor Molly in surprise. “You’re here.”
And every head in the hall turns toward us. Their expressions run the gamut from bored to hurt. And the way my conscience kicks in is no joke.
Sabrina stares at us for a moment and then says, “You just really disappointed me. I don’t know what else to say.”
“I thought we were friends,” says Carter, to the man at my side.
Nash frowns. “We are friends.”
Carter turns away without a word.
“Can I say something?” I ask in a raised voice. “I’d just like to apologize to everyone and maybe try and explain why we—”
Molly clears her throat and attention returns to the front of the room.
“This gathering was called to discuss you. I don’t believe many are ready to hear from you yet.
And I think we’ve addressed the situation as much as we should today.
Please everybody understand that there will be no running anyone out of town.
That’s not who we are. It’s also not something the legal system would support. Meeting adjourned.”