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On Thursday, again, James took Emily to The Big Dipper for a pre-windmill meeting dinner. She waited until they’d ordered before dropping her bomb: “So I’m trying to start a softball team.”
At first, he didn’t react at all. Then after several seconds, he simply said, “What?”
“A softball team. I’m going to be the coach. I’ve got girls who want to play, and I think it will be extraordinarily fun. I’m still waiting on Mr. Hogan’s OK, but I think I’m going to proceed with or without it.”
James put his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “OK.”
“OK? That’s it?”
“Em, do you know anything about softball? You told me you’ve never played a sport in your life.”
She flashed him a wide smile. “Oh, James, you can’t even imagine how much I know about softball.”
There was a spark in one of his eyes. Finally, he was intrigued. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”
“I grew up on softball fields. You wouldn’t believe how much time I spent at practices, games, tournaments—”
“Why?”
“Why? Well, because my dad was obsessed with softball. He played it every spring, every summer, every fall, every year of my childhood. In fact, he still plays. I just don’t go anymore. He played on the church softball team, but that wasn’t enough. He played on other church softball teams whenever he could, and he played in a modified fast pitch men’s league that—”
“You’re losing me.”
“You’re right. I guess you don’t need his whole resumé. My point is that I didn’t just hang around blooper slow pitch. I was part of an actual competitive league where the men were actually good and took it incredibly seriously.”
“You were part of it?” He looked skeptical.
“Absolutely I was part of it. So in the early years, I was in a stroller. But then, I would crawl around in the dirt. Then I graduated to actually building things out of dirt and drawing in the dirt—”
“What’s with all the dirt? I know you. Why didn’t you just bring a book?”
“My dad wouldn’t let me. He said I had to pay attention, because if my nose was buried in a book, I would get hit by a ball.”
James looked skeptical again.
“I know. I think he really just wanted me to watch him play. Which I did. While I played in the dirt with my seventeen cousins.”
James laughed. “What?”
“Yeah, all my dad’s brothers played too. Anyway, when I was twelve, I started keeping the book, which I did faithfully until I went off to college. I’m telling you, James, I know softball. It’s like I have all this useless knowledge bottled up in my head, that I thought would never serve a purpose, but now it will!” The pitch of her voice went up at the end, betraying her childlike excitement.
“I think girls’ high school softball probably has different rules than old men’s softball.”
“Oh, bosh! I’ll read the rulebook. Look, you don’t have to be excited. I just wanted you to know.” She realized then that she really didn’t care if he approved or not. This thought was freeing.
“It’s not that I’m not excited. I’ll support you as much as I can. I’m just a little surprised.”
The server returned and slid a basket of warm bread onto the table. “I’m surprised too,” Emily admitted, “but it will be a good thing.”
––––––––
Despite getting to the windmill meeting fifteen minutes early, they almost couldn’t get through the door. And I thought the first meeting was packed.
James took her hand and gently forced his way through the crowd, trailing her along behind him. She was so happy to hold his hand, she didn’t even mind the claustrophobic feel of the people pressing in on her from all sides. She smiled and nodded to DeAnna’s mother, who was sitting next to Bojack, who had an unlit cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. Beside him sat Sara, Duke, and Jane, her dreadlocks loose tonight and hanging all the way down to her hips.
The same cameraman was crammed into the same corner behind his tripod.
James led her to the closest wall and then wedged his shoulders into the crowd so he could lean against the wall. Then he wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her into him so she could lean on him. Though it was at least a hundred degrees in the church, she’d never been so comfortable.
Her eyes scanned the room. She couldn’t believe how many faces she’d never seen before. Yet she also felt a small pride at how many faces she did recognize. She did a quick headcount and found that most of her students were present. Thomas was in the front row, looking miserable. Chloe sat beside him.
President Darren called the meeting to order. “Thanks for coming, everyone. I know space is tight in here, but we’ll get you out of here in a jiffy. I think we’ve all had a chance to share our opinions, and now it’s time to vote—”
“We haven’t all had a chance to share!” Jane said, standing up.
Darren looked exasperated. “You, Jane, have certainly had a chance—”
“I talked to a doctor from Buffalo,” she said, completely ignoring Darren. She held several sheets of paper with one hand, and she struggled to unfold a pair of reading glasses with the other. Unbelievably, the crowd waited quietly for her to get her spectacles on. Then she continued, “He’s an infrasound specialist, and he has given me lots of statistics to share. He has begged us—you hear me, begged us—to not do this to our island. He promises there will be serious negative side effects.” She looked at the paper, cleared her throat, and began to read, “Studies show that infrasound causes fear and anxiety, the source of which the victim cannot identify, because he or she is unaware they are even hearing the sound. This anxiety can lead to mental breakdowns and violent antisocial behavior—”
“Enough!” Thomas’s father stood up. “Jane, with all due respect, we’re not going to ask the entire island to sit in this room while you read to us. Your unnamed expert doctor with his unnamed studies, which I assure you all, do not exist, are not going to be helpful to us here—”
“Let her talk!” Bojack called out, his lips impressively holding the unlit cigarette in place as he did so.
Jane looked down at the paper and continued, “Certain government agencies are already strategically using infrasound to cause disorientation, unease, and confusion in certain areas and certain circumstances—”
“Jane!” Travis Payne, now red-faced, said again. “Enough! Sit down—”
Vice President Bobby Snyder stood up and put a calming hand on Travis’s shoulder. “Ms. Crockett, why don’t you make copies of your information and distribute it to those who are interested—”
“And I’m supposed to do that before we vote tonight? Be reasonable! I have proof here that infra—”
“You don’t have proof of anything, Ms. Crockett,” Bobby continued. “And we would ask you to have a seat or to leave—”
“Leave?” Jane cried out. “You’re going to force me to leave a town meeting?” She looked around, appalled. “Do you all hear this? Whether I’m right or wrong, don’t we live in a town where we all have a chance to have a voice? Isn’t this a democracy—”
“This is certainly a democracy!” Bobby raised his voice. “And that’s why you get a chance to vote. What you can’t do is force these people to listen to you read from a dubious source you haven’t even named. We all have things to do!”
“His name is Doctor Cats, and he is an expert in ...”
Several people snickered at the good doctor’s name, Emily among them. “Is the guy a veterinarian?” someone quipped from the back.
This, more than any other obstacle to her cause, seemed to frustrate Jane. “It’s spelled K-A-T-Z, you imbeciles!”
“Jane, sit down right now or we will have the sheriff remove you from the room.” Emily looked at Sheriff Jason Pease, who was sitting in the third pew. The sheriff wasn’t really a sheriff at all; he was a deputy under the county sheriff’s department, but he was the only cop on the island, he was an elected official, and he liked to be called Sheriff. So, islanders called him Sheriff. The mention of his name had startled him, and he looked reluctant to get involved, but he nodded to Bobby.
“Fine, throw me out!” Jane screeched and spread her arms out as if asking to be crucified.
“We don’t want to throw you out,” Bobby said, but it was getting hard to hear him as the murmuring of the crowd grew into a rumbling. “Everyone, please quiet down, we want to take this vote tonight ...” Bobby tried, but he had lost whatever modicum of control he had over the meeting.
Several people were hollering to let Jane read. A few were encouraging the sheriff to remove her. And ridiculously, Jane had begun to read from her papers again, even though no one could hear a word she said.
Emily looked at the sheriff, expecting him to do something, but he just sat there looking squeamish.
“Enough!” The female voice from the front didn’t quite drown out the chaos, but still, everyone ceased their noise and looked front. Mabel Pride had stood up and was now red-faced, leaning forward on the table. “That is enough!” she said, only lowering her voice a smidge. “This is not how Piercehaven behaves. Now, this vote is going to happen tonight. It’s going to happen right now. All any of you get to do is vote. That’s it! You’ve all known this was coming. If you’ve had your head in the sand, then that’s your fault. You’ve had your chance to persuade your neighbors, and that chance has passed. We are going to vote! We are going to vote right now! So sit down!”
The people who were standing, including Jane, sat down, and only a few looked reluctant. Most looked perfectly willing to submit to this woman who cheerfully took their money every month. Mabel looked down at President Darren as if waiting for him to take over. He just nodded at her to proceed. She returned her unflinching gaze to the crowd. “Please keep your hands in the air so that we can count. All in favor of Piercehaven Power installing two wind turbines on Chicken Hill, please raise one hand!”
Emily couldn’t believe this was how they were going to do it. She had thought there would at least be a written vote. But apparently, everyone was going to know how everyone else voted. Thomas, despite not yet being eighteen, raised his hand. No one objected. A lot of people raised their hand. It certainly appeared to be a majority. President Darren, Vice-President Bobby, and Treasurer Travis all appeared to be counting hands. The room was eerily silent as they did so, as if people feared any noise would interfere with the co-op’s math.
Each of the hand-counters wrote something down and then nodded at Mabel to continue.
“Thank you. You may put your hands down. Now, all opposed to the co-op putting wind turbines on Chicken Hill, please raise one hand.”
Lots of hands went up, including James’s. Emily hadn’t noticed that he didn’t raise his hand in favor until he did raise his hand in opposition. She looked at him, her eyes wide.
He looked back at her, his eyes even wider. “Aren’t you going to vote?” he whispered.
It hadn’t really occurred to her to vote. And it was too late now, as she would’ve voted yes. Clean power? Lower light bill? Wasn’t it a no-brainer? She didn’t really believe all the health stuff Jane had been spouting. If windmills were that dangerous, they wouldn’t be popping up all over the country, right? She shook her head at James.
He frowned and looked away.
She scanned the room, and though there were a lot of hands in the air, it certainly appeared windmills were in store. And she wasn’t the only one to surmise this.
“Well, prepare to start seeing ghosts,” Jane said.
