Page 71 of Story of My Life
“Or Quaid and Gator getting into that fight in the bank drive-through after Quaid ran over Gator’s golf cart?”
“As I said before, we shouldn’t be driving golf carts on public roads,” Darius began.
“The bank drive-through ain’t no road,” Gator said defensively.
“Yes, but to get to the drive-through…never mind. Let’s stick to the point,” Darius said, pushing his glasses up his nose.
Hazel leaned in again. “You know, last week I saw a guy stab another guy with takeaway chopsticks in an alley next to a literal dumpster fire.” She picked up her pen and started scribbling notes.
“Welcome to Story Lake,” I said dryly.
“It’s time we consider nominating a chief of police,” Darius announced. “Now, I crunched the numbers after track practice. We don’t have the budget for an entire department. But if we put off the new roof on the municipal building for another year, we’ll have enough for an underpaid chief. Someone who can be on call to handle things like fender benders and fistfights. The bigger calls will still go to Dominion. But I think it’s time we take back some of that authority for our own.”
The rumble from the room seemed like it was mostly in favor of the proposal. And, as long as I wasn’t the guy who got stuck with the job, I didn’t see a downside to it.
Emilie’s hand flew up. “I nominate myself.”
And that right there was the downside.
A wheezy bagpipe version of “My Way” kicked off next door and drowned out the audience.
“I second the nomination,” Emilie’s red-faced husband said, jumping to his feet.
I scanned the crowd, looking for an answer. My gaze snagged on my sister, who had a smirk playing on her lips.Shit.
Laura raised her hand. “I nominate Levi Bishop,” she said over the bagpiping.
Gage and I both gave ourselves whiplash surging to our feet. “Second,” we barked.
Darius looked relieved, Levi sat stone-faced, and Hazel was scribbling at top speed.
The boy mayor grinned. “It sounds like we’ve got ourselves a special election, folks. We’ll vote at the next regularly scheduled town meeting.”
With the official squeak of the pig, the meeting was adjourned.
Levi, looking mad enough to spit nails, was instantly surrounded by back slappers and well-wishers.
“Does your brother have any law enforcement experience?” Hazel asked.
“Besides getting arrested at twelve for stealing Dirk Davis’s bike after he locked Gage in his grandpa’s chicken coop? Nope.”
“He doesn’t look happy about it,” she observed.
“Nope.”
“But you look ecstatic.”
“Yep.”
“What’s with the squeaky dog toy?” she asked, gathering up her things.
“Something about gavels and hangovers in the nineties. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
17
ALL KINDS OF PROPOSITIONS
HAZEL
