Page 38 of Grit
“There’s only one road in and out of Jordan Valley,” Melissa said. “You go far enough and there’s a dead end. It doesn’t connect to anything. Never had to. It’s ranchland.”
“Can they build something more? Put a road over to Granite Creek? Something like that?”
“I don’t know,” Sherry said. “But it seems like roads would be a problem.”
“The problem is we don’tknowanything.” Joan was sitting next to Melissa and stood to speak. “Because they haven’t done a report on anything. We don’t know how much water this place will suck up. How much stress it’s gonna put on our roads. What would a golf course do? Is that going to affect local wildlife? I think that’s the first thing we need to push for, some kind of environmental study.”
Murmurs of agreement around the room.
“Uh…” Sherry smiled nervously. “Joan, do you know how to go about doing that? Who would do an environmental study in Oakville?”
Joan looked at Melissa. “Honey?”
Her eyes went wide. “You’re asking me?”
“Is that something you can look up online?”
“Uh…?” Her mother’s search engine skills definitely needed an upgrade. “Maybe talk to Adrian Saroyan in Metlin? He’s an honest guy and he’s sold a lot of the property in downtown Metlin that’s been developed.”
Someone asked, “That Jan Saroyan’s grandson?”
“I think so.”
Joan said, “Yes, he’s Jan and Ana’s grandson.”
More murmurs of agreement.
Melissa said, “A lot of stuff he’s sold is property that changed uses, like from industrial to residential. That kind of thing. He might know where to start. I think what we need is an environmentalimpactstudy. See what kind of effect this would have on the air and the water—”
“And the roads!”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “Yes, Melvin. They would check the roads.”
The old man crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t up and move to this place so I could sit in traffic like it was a goddam city. Pardon my language.”
“I don’t think we’re in any danger of turning into Los Angeles.”
“Mom.” Abby tugged on Melissa’s sleeve. “Are you almost done?”
“Soon, baby.” She pulled Abby’s ponytail. “Give me… fifteen minutes. If it’s not over then, we’ll leave.”
Sherry Granger stood, her hands clutched in front of her. “Okay, I think that’s a good first step. Either Maria or I will contact Adrian Saroyan and ask him for advice on what the best steps might be for this committee.”
Joan said, “And I’m going to call the paper in Metlin. Have any of you read anything about this in the paper?”
“Nope.”
“Not me.”
“I haven’t.”
Joan nodded. “Seems like it might be a local story they’d be interested in. Lots of people in Metlin come up for the bluegrass festival and for shopping and the Christmas markets.”
Melissa made a mental note to call Adrian and fill him in. He likely had no idea what was going on in Oakville, but she knew he was pretty outspoken about responsible development in Metlin, and he might be willing to get involved in this, especially if it landed his name and picture in the paper.
The meeting switched from dispersed muttering to outright chatter, and Melissa picked up her purse and held her hand out for Abby.
“Mom.” Her ten-year-old rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby.”
