Chapter 19

Nearly a week passed after Roxie buried Flora. People were very nice. So many claimed they knew Flora at one time or another, in some capacity or other. Roxie wondered why she hadn’t seen them at calling hours. It wasn’t as if the funeral parlor was so packed with callers that she might have missed them.

She started to ask a few if they had known about Flora’s calling hours, but then she stopped bringing it up. It only forced them to make some kind of excuse. Roxie realized that the insincerity of the various excuses irked her more than the fact that they hadn’t shown in the first place.

After a while she figured she didn’t give a damn about it, anyway.

“The calling hours are for those still alive, not the one who’s dead—and I certainly don’t mean much to these people.”

From time to time she remembered the visit from Junior and Cal, and that made her feel better. It was for that reason, among others, that she decided to attend the City Council meeting to listen to Cal’s presentation. A lot of people were talking about it.

“Let me know what he says,” Millie told her. “If it goes through it’ll mean a lot more business.”

She had started back to work a few days after the burial. She had to admit that she was glad to return. Sitting alone in Flora’s house was getting on her nerves. Several times she thought she heard her auntie’s voice. She couldn’t quite make out what she was saying to her.

When she looked around nothing was there but the walls, of course. The voice sounded so much like Flora’s. It was windy after the burial day of rain so it was probably just the wind pushing its way through the leaky walls of the house.

It was when she returned to work that she noticed people treating her funny. When the weekend came she stayed in the house, except to work her shifts, because she was weary of the treatment. But the exile to which she’d committed herself was wearing on her, too. She was glad for Cal’s presentation. It was an excuse to go out.

Roxie didn’t know her way around City Hall very well. She seldom had a reason to go there, since her aunt’s house was just outside the city limits. She followed the crowd to a large room on the first floor. She was only a bit early.

She poked her head in and saw about a hundred people sitting in metal folding chairs. Facing them was a table with the six chairs and name plates with all the Council members’ names engraved on them. Homer Barlow’s name plate was in the center. The Council hadn’t yet taken their seats.

At the front of the room she saw Cal, sitting next to a covered easel. Most people were chatting among themselves. Cal was alone and looked like he was lost in his thoughts. Roxie looked for a place to sit. There were plenty of empty chairs in the back of the room, and she took one.

She kept watching Cal. He sat still, not moving a muscle. He looked frozen, almost like a mannequin in a clothing store. She felt like running up to him, shaking him by the shoulders and begging him to ‘please breathe’. She wondered why he wasn’t working the crowd, like all the other politicians would have been doing.

Aside from that, Roxie thought he looked nice in his navy business suit and striped tie. She could see it was just pressed. Maybe Cal wasn’t moving so he wouldn’t get wrinkled.

It was difficult to sit in the hard, metal chair waiting for the meeting to start. As she waited Roxie noted how uncomfortable the chair was. She wondered if it was permitted to chew gum in the meeting room. As she was searching through her purse for some, Homer Barlow led a group of five others into the room and they took their places behind the table in the front.

Roxie figured that they were the Council members. At that point everyone stood. Homer said something that she couldn’t understand and then they were all saying the pledge to the flag. Then they all sat down.

Homer took charge of the meeting.

“We have a big crowd tonight. I know why you’re all here, so we’ll dispense with the reading of the minutes from last month and get right to new business.”

From her seat in the back of the room Roxie saw the crowd bob their heads up and down in unison. It reminded her of an army of those dashboard dolls with springs in their necks. At any rate, the crowd was glad that the formalities were ignored. Homer introduced Cal, but she barely heard what he said.

In the corner of her eye she spied the man with whom Cal argued at the diner—the one from the college with the sandals and long hair. He leaned back in his chair with his arms folded.

Cal stood and took the veil from his easel. It was an outline about how a clothing company named ‘Midco’ was going to take over the Annex. They planned to buy it, fix it up and use it as a warehouse and staging point for shipments to their retail stores. There would also be a separate part for customers to call for service. Roxie knew about Midco, of course. She and her aunt used to go through the catalogs that the company mailed to her house. She could never shop there. It was too expensive, but the pictures gave her ideas for her shopping trips to the stores she went to.

Cal was explaining about how the company would create all kinds of jobs. There would be many: from telephone operators to mechanics to maintain the fleet of trucks as well as people tending the warehouse and loading the trucks.

“They aren’t going to bring in a lot of outsiders to run it, are they?” a faceless voice from among the crowd demanded.

“I don’t know,” Cal answered. “I would expect that...”

“What will be their offering price for the property?” one of the council members asked. The crowd began murmuring.

“We haven’t gotten that far,” Cal replied.

“I suppose that they’ll want tax breaks,” another of the councilmen huffed.

The crowd murmured a little louder.

“Whatever they pay, it will be that much more than what anyone is paying now,” Cal retorted.

The crowd broke into laughter.

“What we’re really focusing on is the employment they will bring with them.”

The members of the audience looked at one another. No one had a question.

“And Midco will need high-speed internet availability,” Cal told them. “That means that we’ll be able to have cable TV on the west side of town.”

A few people cheered and then the whole crowd applauded. It got them enlivened again.

“And the gas pipeline will be extended there, too,” Call added and Roxie could see that Cal knew he was on a roll. “So, those living on that side of town can convert from propane to natural gas.”

Others were asking Cal questions about how well Midco paid their employees and why they chose Appleton over so many other places. Cal was answering them each in turn. The meeting seemed to be going Cal’s way.

Roxie saw the man from the college whisper something into his cell phone. It was quick, and then he folded it up and put it back in his pocket.

A man sprang to his feet.

“If Jack Ross is in charge of this whole thing, why did he send you here instead of making the presentation in person?”

The room fell silent. Roxie watched Cal’s face turn red and his jaw dropped open. She waited for him to speak, but he could only open his mouth and make feeble stuttering sounds. He glanced around the room. His eyes were pleading for help. Roxie wanted to help him, but she didn’t know how. Cal gave up on help from anyone. He looked down at the floor.

He looked up and stuttered again.

“We’re all part of a team,” Homer called out from his seat at the council table. “We’re all one big family. We’re working together for the community. Jack has his finger on the pulse of the whole thing.”

Cal looked up at the crowd. His face was still red, but he seemed to breathing again.

“Yes ... yes,” he mumbled.

He drew a deep breath, appearing thankful for Homer’s help, but disappointed at the same time.

Just as he was about to say something a mob burst though the doorway of the meeting room. There were about twenty young people who looked like college students. They were carrying placards.

“No Poison Water,” they chanted. “No Poison Water!”

The protesters marched to the front of the room, blocking the council table, separating the audience from their leaders. As they crowded to fill the front, one of them bumped Cal’s easel and knocked it down. Roxie could hear Homer’s gavel pounding away. The harder Homer thumped, they louder the protesters chanted.

“Poor Cal,” Roxie thought. “He doesn’t deserve any of this.”

The mob of protesters kept up their chant. Roxie glanced at the mysterious man from the college. He remained in his chair, not speaking. He wore a smirk on his face and then it dissolved into snickering.

Most of the people in the audience left their chairs and headed for the door. Roxie figured they wanted to be gone before any real trouble started. She stayed in her seat. She was more used to trouble than most of them, having had a closeup view of Junior’s barroom exploits. Cal tried to pick up his fallen easel, but as he bent to pick it up he was knocked to the floor by two of the protesters.

The chanting continued and Homer’s gavel continued to pound. In due course several City police officers arrived and the group of protesters sat on the floor all at once.

“Don’t arrest ‘em,” Homer shouted. “It’s just what they’re hoping for.”

“Then what should we do with them?” one of the officers shouted back.

“Meeting adjourned,” Homer bellowed and slammed his gavel one more time. “We’ll all leave and they can protest to each other. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Roxie didn’t like Homer very much, but she had to admit he made a lot of sense.

“I’ve got to get my easel,” Cal called out.

“Leave it!” Homer yelled over the commotion. “I’ll have it sent to your office in the morning.”

Roxie left the room with all the others. Most filtered out the door. Roxie loitered in the hallway. She found an empty corner and waited for Homer and Cal to come out of the meeting room.

“ ... I suppose so,” she heard Cal say.

He was shaking his head. Roxie didn’t know, but could imagine what they were talking about. Cal looked downcast.

Before Homer could answer Cal, the group of protesters filed out of the meeting room. The mystery man was with them. The police officers followed behind, but stopped when it was apparent that the mob was leaving. When they left Homer went to talk to the police officers. Roxie emerged from the shadows and approached Cal.

“Hi, Cal,” she said.

Cal smiled at her. His face had turned red again.

“I was surprised to see you, Roxie. I saw you sitting in the back while I was giving my presentation.”

“I thought it was good,” Roxie answered.

“What there was of it,” Cal said and glanced down at the floor.

“Well, it was too bad you couldn’t finish. You were about done, anyway—weren’t you?”

“I suppose so,” Cal replied. “Anyway...”

Homer interrupted Cal by motioning him over to where he was standing.

“Give me a second, please,” Cal said.

Cal went over to Homer. They huddled together. Homer was whispering to Cal, but Roxie heard him, anyway.

“Cal, I know that woman. She waits table over to the Bluebird.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Cal answered.

“Look, it’s none of my business,” Homer said under his breath. “It won’t be good for you to be seen talking to her. She’s got quite a reputation, you know.”

Cal paused and looked at Homer for a second.

“Thanks, Homer,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

Homer slapped Cal on the shoulder. Cal returned to where Roxie was standing.

“Hey, Roxie,” Cal began, “I ... uh...”

“You know, Cal,” she interrupted, “I’ve got to get home—early shift tomorrow.”

Cal grimaced.

“Too bad,” he said, “I was going to buy you a drink at the Dew Drop.”

Roxie had to replay Cal’s words to herself to be certain that he had really said them.

“Well, I could make time for just one,” she gushed. “My car is across the street. I’ll meet you there.”

“Good!” Cal exclaimed. “I’ll be right along. I just have to go back to the meeting room and collect my easel and papers.”

Roxie knew that it would take Cal a few minutes to arrive at the Dew Drop. She wondered if she should wait in the parking lot for him to arrive.

“No, too much like a date,” she thought. “Better to keep it simple.”

She made her way into the bar. It was Wednesday night, so it wasn’t crowded. She stopped when she was just inside the door and looked for an empty table. Herb Beale was behind the bar talking to a couple of patrons.

“What’s up tonight, Roxie?” he asked as she scanned the room.

“I’m meeting someone,” Roxie answered.

“It’s Wednesday night. It isn’t like Junior to be out on a weekday. You two getting’ back together?”

Roxie didn’t answer. She could feel the men’s eyes scanning her. She ignored them. Nearly all the tables were empty. She chose one of them and went to it.

“No waitress service on Wednesday nights,” Herb called over to her.

“Make it a gin and tonic,” she called back.

She returned to the bar to pick up her drink. She paid Herb and went back to the table. She didn’t know how long she would be waiting for Cal. It didn’t matter, she was happy.

“For a drab kind of guy, Cal is sure full of surprises,” she thought.

She wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t volunteered to meet Cal at the bar. What if she had accepted and waited for him to collect his easel. What if she had gone to the meeting room to help him? What if they’d left together in Cal’s car? Was Cal ready to stand up to Homer again so that he could have a drink with her?

“Coward!” she scolded herself.

Cal certainly seemed willing. She wasn’t ready to find out. She was used to Homer’s kind of scrutiny, and had practice in the quick getaway. She sipped her drink and decided that she’d handled everything just right. Cal might have been willing, but maybe not. It was better to do things a step at a time.

She glanced up just in time to see Cal walk in the door. He said ‘hello’ to Herb.

“Oh, I was expecting to see your brother,” Roxie heard Herb say.

Cal looked around for a second before he spotted Roxie sitting at the table. He nodded to acknowledge her and saw that she already had a drink. He bought a beer from Herb and made his way to the table she’d selected. He took the chair across the table from her.

“Did you think I wasn’t here?” she asked to break the ice.

“No I saw your car in the parking lot when I drove in,” he answered.

“Well, I did think your speech was real good. It’s too bad about it being broken up by those college kids. There was a man there—I saw him make a cell phone call a minute before the mob broke into the meeting. You know him. You had breakfast with him once at the diner and then it looked like you were arguing with him.”

“His name is Wesley Ingram,” Cal explained. “He’s a professor at the college. I saw him walk out when the protesters left the building. I’m not surprised. He’s the one who’s been organizing the protests.”

“It’s not fair,” Roxie insisted. “They get to have their say. Why can’t...”

“I didn’t know you were interested in local politics,” Cal interrupted. “It was a surprise to see you in the audience.”

“Why wouldn’t I be interested?” she protested. “It affects us all, you know, and...”

“Okay—okay,” Cal laughed.

“Yeah,” she blushed, “I guess you would know that.”

“Well, I tried,” Cal sighed. “It didn’t pan out like I thought it would.”

“Well, why not?” Roxie demanded. “There were a lot of people there to hear what you had to say. You got most of it out before it ended. I would say you did alright.”

Cal’s face brightened.

“Maybe so. Of course, everyone thought I was just a stand-in for Jack Ross.”

“Only a few of them,” Roxie countered. “It wasn’t very nice for that guy to say that, but I’ve learned that folks aren’t always nice.”

“Anyway,” Cal said, “I’m glad you came.”

He took a swallow of beer and looked over the top of the glass at Roxie. She figured she needed to say something important.

“Actually, I was glad for the chance to get out. After Auntie passed on, I’ve been stuck out at the house. I was hoping that if I showed up to hear you talk it would be like you had a good luck charm, or something.”

“That was like something Bonnie would have said,” she told herself.

She couldn’t believe she’d just said what she had. After so much experience with men she would have expected a better effort than that from herself.

“That was nice of you,” Cal replied.

“Wrong again!”

She was at a loss for something to say...

“Think quick!”

“Well, I tried, but it didn’t seem to bring you much luck, did it?”

Cal paused for a second. He drew his lips together like he did every time he was mulling an answer. He did it when he was thinking over the chicken croquettes that day in the diner.

“It wasn’t a bad effort for a first attempt,” he conceded.

He stopped talking and looked at her again. She wondered what to say next. She looked back at him. A smile spread across his face and they burst out laughing at the same moment. After that, they fell silent for a minute and worked on their drinks.