Chapter 13, Willie's Folly - rewrite

"I dun need to hear no more; let's vote on it now and I say vote no too all you valley men here. You vote yes an' they've already won. They takin' over the valley an' you'd be a lettin' 'em do it by allowin' it," Willie stood and crossed his arms..

"I moves we call the question right now, an' all you valley folk vote no; keep them hill toppers from doin' more damage like what happened ta the Hostetters farm the other night."

"Second," a voice stated from the valley side of the aisle.

George pursed his lips and drummed the podium with his fingers. Despite his wild card, he hadn't quite expected a parlimentary mutiny from the farmer crowd.

Ed Tate Sr. stood from where he sat towards the back of the room, his corpulant form eclipsing the other men who surrounded him. With a smug and confident air he glanced at Willie then at George, cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Pembrook, call the for the vote. I'm with Willie on this one, vote no to the vote everyone, Willie's got it good this time."

As if by cue the room filled with that nebulous murmering of many hushed and low conversations happening in twos and threes from the seats and bleachers. George looked about him and wondered when he had lost control and why. He was really not in charge, just the person up front leading things along and suddenly the parlimentary proceedure is riding rough shod over his own plans for the evening.

"Well, according to the proceedure, we need to appoint the committee who would then make application to the county," George stated tersly over the murmering.

"We wanna vote on the vote," another voice shouted from the valley side of the house.

George looked at Mr. Lewiston and cocked an eyebrow and Lewiston shrugged. With no help coming from that quarter, George drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Ok, we'll vote on the vote. Only adults over the age of eightteen may vote. Let's be clear here, we're voting on whether to form the committee to make application to the county for encorporation," George stated.

"Yeh, lak he said, vote on the vote," someone shouted amidst laughter.

"Ok, will someone find some paper we can make into strips and a list of residents ..." George asked.

"Jus' ask fer a show a hands fer chrissake!" Willie interrupted.

"No, you wanted Robert's Rules and now you're going to get Robert's Rules," George retorted. "We're going to make sure only the eligible to vote are voting and no one else." George glared at Willie and the valley crowd. "Now you will kindly sit down Mr. Shank so we can get on with this."

"I move we use an Austrailian ballot," Benton said much to the relieved look of George.

"Second," a voice from the hill topper side of the room spoke up.

"All in favor of using an Austrailian ballot, raise your hands," George said.

A sudden crop of hands grew out from the hill topper side of the gymnasium seating and bleachers and a surprising number from the valley side as well. Those who dared to vote from the valley seating where treated with quick glares and motioned threats from those around Willie and the Tate's.

"Eighty nine in favor. All opposed?" George asked smugly. "Fifty one. The motion passes for an austrailian style secret ballot. We will use the mail box list that I'm sure Mr. Middlebrook can provide for us from memory and vote by household with only the eligible members of that household having a vote. Mr. Middlebrook, will you please provide Mr. Lewiston with a list of households who have thier PO box at your Post Office?"

Pete stood from his seat in the valley section and proceeded to the front with the rabble rousers murmering threats as he passed by. Looking a little nervous, Pete walked up to George.

"Mr. Lewiston, do you mind being our impartial vote taker and judge?" George asked the wirey man.

"Uhm, no I don't mind I suppose."

"You want me to jus' list the family names?" Pete asked Mr. Lewiston.

There was a sudden scramble on the valley side as the opposition began a frenzied politiking of anyone within arms reach. Noting this activity, George grinned and stepped back up to the podium.

"Let's open up the floor for some questions shall we?" George asked. "Excuse me, this is your turn and time to talk gentlemen," he said to the group of men fanning out amongst the rows of chairs on the valley side. "Will you please take your seats so anyone who wants to talk can?" George looked at the five who where out of thier seats and waited for them to regain them. The men, Willie included, turned confused stares towards Ed. Tate Sr. as if to ask permission to sit back down. Ed. Sr. returned thier pleas with an irritated wave of his hand and a scowl. George noted the silent communication and suppressed a chuckle. It'll be a cold day in hell when these hicks get the best of ole George, he thought.

"Well, we've heard why we should encorporate and we've heard that some of you are opposed to it, but I'd like to hear why you are either for or against it," George asked.

"Awrighty, I dun likes it 'cause it'll bring more folks like yerself to my valley," Willie said tersly. "It'll also bring more taxes on our properties and bring more control over how we chose ta do buisness an' live our lives. We dun just fine all these years without some new entity lookin' down on us an' tellin' us what ta do."

"Anyone else?" George asked hoping to get someone else to say something other than Tate or Willie.

"Well, I'd say gettin' more services to the rest of the farms that've surrounded this whole area fer years would be a good thing. We could use a volunteer fire department fer one, that way next time ole Petey's Post Office catches on fire, we can at least save the stamps!" Howard Hilcock stated. A scattering of laughter from those who got the vield joke punctuated the silence. "Might also be nice to get us some police an' pay fer them rightly 'stead of waitin' fer that county sheriff."

"Don't think any o that gonna make a lick o difference; you people still gonna git flayed by them hill toppers what come an' live up the hill but enjoy what my tax money made fer 'em. Valley don't need 'em an' dun need some village. The farmers is the ones who make up the valley, not the hill toppers," Willie said followed by several amen's.

"Well, I think we're ready,"said Pete and walked back to his seat.

"Ok, well, when Mr. Lewiston calls out your household and P.O. box, step up to the table and write yes or no on the slips of paper and put that paper in the jar." George instructed and then went back to his seat behind the podium. One by one the households where called and the adults verified on the list Pete gave Mr. Lewiston. George smiled to himself. All of the worry and fret wasn't over, but at least those who could be counted to support the furthering of the encorporation looked to be in greater numbers than those opposed. The committee still had to be selected and the applications made and the hard questions answered about the short comings of the whole enterprise; but the ace in his hand could stay safely tucked away until needed. What had looked so balefull even this evening had changed just as quickly.

The sudden call for parlimentary proceedure, the vehicle thrust upon him by the opposition, had actually worked in his favor as George had little idea on what to do once Mr. Lewiston had finished his part of the meeting. Thinking that a majority show of hands would suffice George was prepared to have it done with in a single and short lived question of support. It was turning out more advantageous to vote secretly than it would have in a show of hands.

The last household was called and voted. Mr. Lewiston then took the jar and walked to a secluded area of the gymnasium to tally the votes. Not caring now what happened out on the meeting floor, George stayed seated behind the podium. The wind taken out of thier sails, the opposition group remained silent and still amidst the gradual rise of murmering. George noted the worried looks Willie was giving to Ed Tate Sr. behind him.

Mr. Lewiston soon returned with the talley and handed a sheet to George.

"By vote to decide to vote," George rolled his eyes and grinned, "the count is eighty seven for and thirty five against. The yes votes to hold a county vote for encorporation have it. Congratulations, we've taken the first steps towards encorporating!" There then followed a general applause but no wild or hearty celebration. There was still time for plenty to go wrong and the committee still had to be formed, but George felt his fears lifted from his chest in one collective act of obediance to the future.

The rest of the evening was spent in nominating committee members and arguing over how many was too many or too few and who then should be allowed or dissallowed to be a member. Much to George's chagrin, Ed Tate Sr. found his way onto the committee as well as several of the opposition group whom he didn't know but who had prominantly backed Willie earlier. Not having any say as to its composition, George could do nothing but watch the drama play out and hope for the best. The one bright spot would be the presence of himself, Benton, Pete Middlebrook, and Howard and Jim Hilcock. It would be thier job to mold the request to the county and to pen the verbiage given for the vote yay or nay for the final question. It didn't matter so much now if even Willie had been nominated for the committee, the reason for its existence was to formulate application, not oppose it. Satisfied that all had indeed gone well, George was to sleep a sound sleep in his bed, a sounder sleep than he had experienced in the days leading up to the meeting.

On the other side of the aisle, someone else would be losing sleep. As the meeting finally broke Willie wondered what had gone wrong. He had done everything that Ed Tate Sr. had told him to do and played it exactly. He had even suffered the almost constant presence of Ed Jr. the past several days executing the machinations of Ed Sr. upon the unwary valley farmers; stuff that he'd sooner revisit scenes from his army days in Europe than recount what he and Ed where doing. Most disturbing of all was how readily Ed Jr. took to it confirming much of Willie's dislike of the young man. Ed Jr. liked it too much, tackling the jobs like school yard hijinks and "boys will be boys" mischieviousness. Willie just wanted to be done with it and then wash his hands of the man, though getting out from under Ed Sr.'s shadow was going to be more difficult.

That shadow had just grown enormously over Willie and the look of disgust and anger from Ed Sr. was enough to make Willie want to run out and not stop. Tate Sr. placed himself between Willie and the door and there would be no avoiding going past him to get out of the gymnasium. Swallowing hard, Willie made his way to the back doors hoping to blend in with the flow of people heading in that direction until a hand grabbed his shoulder and put him to a stop.

"Idiot! Why'd you demand the vote once everone showed up? Couldn't you count? What was going through that dense mellon of yours?" Ed Tate Sr. hissed.

"I, uh, I was just doing what we agreed!" Willie stammered.

"An' now, you've made us a laughing stock to them hill toppers an' made me a laughing stock with everone! Yor on yer own, Willie! But, yor debt ta me aint yet paid. I tole you I back the winnin' horse ever time, I plan on collectin' my winnin's if I has ta take it outta yor hide!"

Willie blanched and looked down. "So, what we gonna do now?"

"Ain't you hearin' what I'm tellin' you? This is over, finished. Nothin' is stoppin' it from happin' now an' nothin' will, least not from me or mine. You want ta fight it still, you go right on ahead, you'll do it alone and alone you'll be! Now, it aint over as far as a few things go," Ed Sr. looked over at Jr. and then at Willie and smiled. "There's still some things you two will have ta take care of after tonight, a few more people has ta be 'venged upon fer they's behavior tonight, purely fer the satisfaction mind you."

Willie, alarmed and fidgiting nerveously with his fingers wished to be far away from Ed Sr.'s gaze but couldn't bring himself to turning and leaving.

"What? What else ya want me ta do?" whinned Ed. Jr.

"Quit yer belly achin'! You'll know it soon enough!" Ed Sr. snapped and then turned to Willie. "So will you, maybe this'll learn you some smarts though I doubt it. Go on, git outta my sight Shank!" Ed dismissed Willie with a flip of his hand.

Willie quickly turned and beat his retreat. Outside a chill descended, a glistening frost settled upon the ground and cars in the parking lot glittered under the gymnasium lights. It would be a long drive home this night and a longer night of sleepless regret.

****

Winter finished having its way with Happy Valley and spring 1961 broke as every spring has broken previously. Green replaced the winter blanket of white and the trees regained thier splendor, especially the oaks that lined the banks of Muleshoe creek. The committee was also active in working through the application process despite the personal feelings of a few of its members, the work was done and the application submitted along with stack of waivers George had held on to for a rainy day.

Benton sold his interest in the realty to George and though he laid it on thickly he couldn't dissuade Benton from his course; it was also a blow to George's ego and conniving with Mr. Townsend over the legal help he'd arranged that wintry day. Benton detected a change in thier relationship, a discernable coldness. They still spoke and until the committee broke up they kept up a keen dialogue about the process and the various machinations of the senior Tate.

With the spring also came something special to Benton and Theresa. They would break ground on thier newest family enterprise, the Happy Valley Inn. As if hidden in the folds of the seasons, the coming spring also brought a renewal to Benton and Theresa's relaitonship. Benton hoped that it might but decided it was time to go with the flow over serious investigation as to why. Did it really matter in the day to day things if it was just the weather or by his act of fidelity in selling his share of the realty? Not a shallow man but also not one to argue with the natural evolution of relationships as they grow and recede, he left well enough alone and enjoyed the lifting of the veil that had clouded them for months.

The intent to encorporate quickly spread producing a flood of new arrivals, more so than the State214 project, and with that flood came two more service stations, another diner, and a specialty store to sell handi crafts on consignment. The roadway was beginning to look like a respectible little town. The hilltop population, the newcomers on the hill as the locals still referred to them as, where spreading out and there was talk of another housing area with a street, picket fences, and a general sense of coziness or so it appeared on paper. The chemical plant was humming along and the first of several milestones reached in the progress to come to full fledged production. The ingredients for plastic moldings, the first company order to fulfill, brought truckloads of the chemicals needed. The manpower was still short and the turnover large, as the constant bussing in of labor from the surrounding areas took its toll both on the laborers and on the people needed to support the transient population with room and board.

It was nothing new to the process, just a peculiarality of it. The hilltoppers continued with thier daily lives as did the valley folks and as spring made it's presence felt, the valley awoke from its winter slumber just as the insects, plant life, and animals did and began to get back to the work of life. Holed up in thier warm farmsteads, the families stretched out atrophied arms and legs to begin another growing cycle upon thier fields as the times of rest became long hours of monotonous tilling, mechanical repair of machinery, and the spring to do lists of structural repairs needed as a result of the winter weather. The children woke early with thier parents and lived the early to bed, early to rise axiom of farming once again.

From a glance it appeared to be a typical day for a typical small community. Work was conducted, life was lived, and relationships strengthened, created, or soured perchance of the gods of human interaction. Benton sipped his coffee in the living room as he was want to do in his morning routines and gazed out to the budding of spring's new life. The oak tree in the front yard, still more of a sapling than at a point worthy of such an appelation, was starting to bud and the grass in the yard was beginning to green at the tips. Theresa was making breakfast in the kitchen and humming to herself somethign that Benton could not place. He stood upon the achievement precipice of years of pursuit; that place where a man can begin to grasp at his dreams and feel the coming satisfaction. The house, the job, the community, the world of awakening that he viewed this very instant was proof of that.

With a smile, Theresa called to him from the kitchen that breakfast was readied to be partaken of. Leaving the birth of spring from his bay windows Benton furthered himself into the re-birth of his marriage, at least the rebirth of the feelings of mutual edification and connectedness. Upon the table sat a stack of catalogues, furniture and fixture catalogues and swatches of upholstery and carpeting. The table had become Theresa's principle work place as she went about the buisness of organizing for the hotel rooms. It would be on a budget and a wing and prayer with a smidgen of luck; the means didn't bother Benton much as long as Theresa was occupied and happy. She was the financial force behind thier lives anyway and he did not bother himself with the minutia of the means. They would just push forward with what they could afford and hopefully the rooms would stay filled enough to keep the banks happy.

"Going to Charleston today to look at more furniture but I should be home to make us dinner," Theresa said as she sipped her coffee.

"You think you're close to finding everything the hotel will need?" Benton asked as he scooted his chair in.

"Close, it's like trying to decorate twenty five houses with just the right look, you know? But I think I'm close; just need to find someone who'll do the bathrooms in tile, so I'm also going by a few places to look at samples." Theresa replied.

"Have you thought of trying to work a deal out with the diner across the way? You know, have some sort of discount for food for the residents of the place?" Benton asked.

"No, but that is a good idea," Theresa replied. "I was just thinking of having like a continental something in the lobby for breakfast each day, but without a place to get pasteries made fresh here I just didn't pursue it very hard. We dont' travel that much, so I don't really know what travelers want."

"Well, can't go wrong with food being close by for them. The plant would probably keep a good portion of those rooms filled every week night at least. I know George's going to want to talk to us about that eventually." Benton hesitated then smiled. The topic of the plant and George were taboo with Theresa and both of them in the same sentence was a risk he shouldn't have taken.

"That would be a good hedge against other short falls in occupancy," Theresa replied.

Surprised that he didn't get a grunt or a scowl in response, Benton decided not to press his luck with other such topics all in one sitting. "We won't be able to get a stable work froce for the shop floor until we have an official place to call home and the village application might just do that, though we'll still need some place for people to live while more houses are being built," Benton said.

"The more the better; keep those farmers from gawking at just us and give them someone else to look threatning at," Theresa added derisvely.

"I would have thought the meeting to break some of that," Benton replied and took a bite of toast. The bread had sunken in the center from the helping of butter Theresa had lathered on it making his lips glisten with greasy ambrosia.

"No, now you only see it from a few of them, but it is always just the same few who bother now with the glares."

"Hmm, I also would have thought that we bridged some of that gap since the vote went for us by such a large margine that many of the valley folks had to have voted for it." Benton cradled his coffee mug below his chin, allowing the aroma to raise to his nostrils.

"There's also been some strange things happening with a few of the shops, stuff missing during the day, stuff happening in the night, that sort of thing."

"Anything really bad?" Benton asked surprised.

"Just petty vandalisim, but I think it started sometime after the meeting in Janurary. It's prolly one of those valley creeps mad that we're going to get a village against thier will." Theresa said, an angry look creasing her brow. "Everybody I've talked to has experienced something odd since the vote to vote."

"I'm sure some of it is conincidence, don't you think? Get a bunch of people together and a few things happening and suddenly everyone has something they think might relate just to have some connection with the conversation." Benton pondered.

"Possibly, but they all seem so much like someone or someones' going about at night just doing stupid stuff to the properties. Which makes me wonder how we're going to protect the hotel once it gets built. We won't be living there like some of the folks do at thier buisnesses, at least there is someone on premisis to protect thier investments."

"Police protection would certainly help, we have to make some provision for it in the village application for at least a part time sheriff on the books." Benton said and wiped the remaining egg on the plate with his toast.

"That would be something that would allow a few people to rest easier at night, a few have begun keeping watch after dark; they are that spooked by this stuff going on. But, no one has actually been caught doing anything either nor seen so maybe it is just imagination."

"Would hope so. I can see being a little sore maybe at what happened, but not enough to actually go about in the dark stealing or destroying stuff. Just seems far fetched, but if you say some of them go out of thier way to make you feel unwanted then I guess anything is possible." Benton added.

"I think Pete Huebner bought a German Sheppard, he lets the dog into the main part of the store in the night. Maybe we should get a dog for the hotel." Theresa thought.

"Well, most places have someone to take in people at all hours of the day, so there'd be someone on premises all the time anyway," George added.

"Oh, we'd have to hire someone huh?" Theresa stopped as if struck with the epiphany. "I hadn't counted on needing to pay anyone."

"It's a bit premature to worry about that, isn't it?" Benton laughed.

"No, it isn't. Means I need to look at the budget once again and see if we can even afford to hire anyone." Theresa said and frowned. "I figured I would run things during the day but I hadn't thought of at night."

"Hmm, well, I suppose we just need to have a kid and grow them up really fast!" Benton laughed.

Theresa looked up at Benton and her face went blank.

"What?" Benton asked sheepish.

"Uhm, you've never mentioned children before just now, at least not like that in a joke," Theresa said softly.

"Sorry, just my engineer brain I suppose," Benton smiled but let it quickly wash away as Theresa didn't return it.

"A child would be nice, but we would need to talk about it a bit more and not in this context," Theresa mumbled.

"Uhm, sure. Sorry, I wouldn't want it just because we needed someone to work graveyard. Well, let's talk about it sometime in a different context, sure." Benton watched her eyes for some indication that he hadn't broken some unforgiveable taboo.

"Well, I'd better get going soon if I want to get back here at a decent hour and you need to get ready for work, I'll have to take you," Theresa said as she grabbed thier plates and whisked them to the sink leaving Benton alone at the table.

Getting the hint, he hurried to finish his toilet and was soon ready to leave. The mornings were still crisp from the night's chill but the sun its rays where pleasant reminders of the comfort of spring in its dichotomy of hot and cool; a balence that made spring such an enjoyable season. Soon, too soon for Benton's taste, the weather would get sticky hot and the balence would tip towards the sun's favor as mornings would be one degree more bearable than the rest of the day as the thermometer rose.

At least for today, the moment was pleasant and the workday promising nothing more exciting than marking the black board on the shop floor for the one hundredth delivery of chemical. Nothing more than a break was planned to celebrate, but it at least would punctuate the day with something more than the hum drum.