Page 172 of Story of My Life
“I call this meeting to order,” Darius said. “First things first. The election results for chief of police are in.”
That got everyone’s attention. Emilie sat up straighter in her seat and flipped through a pile of index cards. It was a victory speech. And from the looks of the stack, it was a long one. I spotted Levi in the back of the room, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, looking like he was prepared to meet a firing squad.
“Here to announce the winner of our special election are the Story Lake Warblers,” Darius said.
The Warblers pranced to the front of the room and harmonized briefly.
“For fuck’s sake,” Cam muttered under his breath.
“No citizens dallied. The votes are tallied.
We take great pride in announcing this landslide.
Meet captain of our ship, Chief Levi Bishop!”
One of the Warblers shot off a confetti popper, showering the stage in red, white, and blue paper.
The vast majority of the crowd applauded. Frank and Pep Bishop heldChief Bishopsigns overhead while Laura cruised over to Levi and gave him an affectionate punch in the gut.
Jaw set and blond curls trembling with what I could only assume was barely controlled rage, Emilie leaned into her microphone. “I demand a recall under Article 52, Subsection G.”
Ace sighed and dropped the hefty charter binder onto the table.
Darius waved a hand. “No need, Dr. Ace. Article 52, Subsection G, states that an elected official can be recalled if the winning candidate knowingly causes or allows a livestock stampede through town limits for a minimum of three blocks.”
Emilie’s husband, Amos, jumped to his feet and pointed at the window. “Holy heck! There’s a pig running down the street!” he announced in scripted excitement. I was fairly certain he was reading the line off his own set of index cards.
“Hang on. Ain’t that your pig, Amos?” asked an eagle-eyed observer from somewhere in the back of the room.
“That’s definitely Rump Roast. I’d know that pig anywhere,” someone else stated.
“Look at that! He’s taking a little nap in the Dilberts’ flowers.”
Ace gave Emilie a long look. “I think we can safely say that one pig walking one hundred feet and then falling asleep does not constitute a livestock stampede.”
Emilie harrumphed and crossed her arms.
“Congratulations, Chief Bishop. We’ll schedule your swearing-in ceremony at a date convenient to you,” Darius said, all business. “Moving on to the next item on our agenda. We got the results of the sewage treatment report back, and we’ve got eight months to come up with the $200,000 to upgrade our plant.”
It was so quiet you could hear Rump Roast snoring. And then all hell broke loose.
“People, please, let’s quiet down so we can get to the solutions,” Darius said.
The questions flew fast and furious.
“How in the hell are we gonna come up with that much money?”
“What happens if we don’t upgrade?”
“Why can’t we celebrate Garden Naked Day in the park?”
“Do the people who voted for Levi have to worry about any kind of retaliation from…any other candidates?”
“What if we all just install outhouses?”
I looked at Cam. “Can’t you do something?”
“Fine. But only because I’m interested in looking heroic in front of you.” He leaned into his mic, inserted his middle finger and thumb into his mouth, and whistled shrilly. “Everybody sit the hell down and shut the hell up, or my brother’s first arrest is gonna be all y’all, and I know we don’t have the jail space for that.”
