Chapter 21
Almeda Surprises Everybody!

One evening toward the latter part of July, Almeda was late coming home from town. I’d been home for some time. Supper was all ready, Pa had quit working and was cleaned up, but still she didn’t come. Finally Pa said we should just go ahead and eat, though it wasn’t like her to be so late. At first I think he might have been a trifle annoyed, but by eight o’clock, when she still wasn’t home, he started to worry.

Finally Pa got to his feet. “I’m going into town,” he said, “to find out where she is and if she’s okay.”

He walked out the door and toward the barn to saddle his horse. But not two or three minutes later, Almeda’s little buggy came around the bend and up the road toward the house.

A moment or two passed before she and Pa came through the door together. From the look on Pa’s face, she still hadn’t told him what had caused her delay.

Without sitting down, she waited until everyone was quiet. We all had our eyes fixed on her, wondering what she was going to say. Her face was serious but bright, and it was obvious something was brewing inside her head that she was dying to tell us all about.

“I’m sorry to be so late,” she said. “I didn’t expect this, but as I got ready to come home, suddenly a great . . . a great sense . . . of God speaking to me began to come over me and I knew I had to be alone for a while. As it turns out, I’ve been thinking, praying, and crying for over two hours! But now . . . I believe I know at last what he’s been trying to tell me.”

She stopped and took a deep breath. Then she got a big smile on her face, and was clearly excited about what she had to say.

“I’ve reached a decision,” she said. “Hopefully with God’s help—”

She paused again, then announced:

“I’ve decided to run against Royce . . . for mayor!”

Silence fell like a heavy cloud throughout the house. No one said anything. Everyone was too shocked.

Becky was the first to break the silence by bolting past Almeda and through the door.

“Where ya going?” called Pa after her.

“To tell Uncle Nick and Aunt Katie!” shouted Becky back at him, already halfway to the bridge over the stream.

That was all Pa said for a while. He was real quiet, and from the look of expectation on Almeda’s face I could tell she was waiting for him to say something.

“Well, if that don’t beat all,” he finally said. “You are a lady full of surprises, I’ll say that for you.”

Almeda laughed, and finally sat down, showing some relief. I brought a plate and set it down in front of her at the table.

Pa didn’t say anything more, just sat there thinking about this turn of events. From looking at him, I couldn’t tell whether he approved or not. I guess it was quite a thing for a man to get used to, his wife saying she was going to run for politics. It wasn’t the kind of thing women did, or that men usually approved of!

I decided to break the silence myself. “What makes you think you can do it?” I asked. “If a woman can’t vote, I wouldn’t think they’d let you run for an office.”

“Well, women ought to be able to vote,” she replied, “and I intend to run whatever anyone thinks.”

“Anyone . . . including me?” said Pa finally, looking over at her.

“Well, I . . .” Almeda hesitated. “I just thought, Drummond, that you’d be all for it. I’ve heard you say yourself you didn’t like the thought of Royce as mayor.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I reckon I just wish you’d said somethin’ to me first, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry, Drummond,” she said, genuinely surprised, as if she’d never thought about talking to Pa ahead of time. “If you’d rather—”

“No, no,” interrupted Pa. “I ain’t gonna stand in your way.”

Then he tried to lighten the tension some by letting out a laugh. “Who knows, maybe I’ll like the notion of bein’ known as the mayor’s husband! But what about Royce?” he asked, serious again. “He ain’t gonna like this one bit!”

“Franklin Royce can think what he will. If he calls my notes due, I’ll borrow the money from you! I don’t owe him more than a couple thousand dollars.”

Pa laughed again. “Well, you’re determined enough,” he said, sounding as if he was getting gradually used to the idea. “I reckon I’ll give you my vote. But since women can’t vote, and men being what they are, I can’t see how you’ll get many more.”

“What about everything you and Nick have been saying about none of the men around caring for Royce?”

“That was before. Now that he’s changed, I ain’t so sure most of the men wouldn’t still prefer him to voting for a woman.”

“Are you prejudiced against the idea?” asked Almeda, still wondering what Pa thought.

“I’m just tellin’ you how folks’ll see it, and you know as well as I do how men are about women doing ‘men’s work.’”

Almeda sent a glance in my direction, as if to remind me of the conversations we had about that very same thing.

“We’ll see,” she said. “I’m not so sure Royce has changed as much as everyone thinks. I have a feeling he’s just as conniving as ever, and if folks have a choice in the election . . . well, we’ll have to wait and see. I just think they ought to have a choice.”

In a few minutes Katie and Uncle Nick, led by Becky, came in. Uncle Nick was carrying fourteen-month-old Erich, but set him down as soon as they were inside. He’d been walking about three or four weeks, and now he went toddling about while Becky and Tad tried to keep up with him. Still sitting at the table, Almeda did her best to eat some supper and answer everyone’s questions. Her surprise announcement caused an uproar in the house. No one knew what to think, but everybody had plenty to say in response!

“I think it’s exciting!” said Katie over and over. “If I’d thought of it myself, why I’d have run!”

“Being the wife of this character,” said Pa, tossing his head sideways toward Uncle Nick, “I wouldn’t exactly have recommended you as qualified for the position.”

“Why, Drummond, how dare you!” she said.

“I’m only saying,” laughed Pa, “that Almeda here’s got a reputation as a businesswoman that goes further back in Miracle Springs even than Royce’s—when did he come to town, Almeda?”

“I think it was late ’51 . . . maybe early ’52.”

“There, you see,” continued Pa. “Parrish Mine and Freight has been doing business in town since ’50.” He stopped. “Hmm, now that I think about it, maybe you can put up a campaign against Royce.”

“Sounds like a campaign slogan to me,” said Katie. “‘Hollister for Mayor—Part of Miracle Springs from the Beginning!’”

“How about being my assistant, Katie?” said Almeda.

“No, no, no!” interjected Uncle Nick. “If a woman’s gonna try to go up against a man, at least you gotta have a man runnin’ it for ya.”

“Are you suggesting, Mister Belle,” said Katie, “that two women would not be able to do it?”

“Three women!” I added.

Katie and Almeda cheered and clapped to have me joining their debate. “Now we three outnumber you two!” said Katie. “Perhaps we should vote on who should be the campaign manager, right here and now!”

“Make it three against three!” chimed in Zack. “I’m sixteen. My say oughta count as much as Corrie’s!”

“Now you’re talking, son!” said Pa. “You just stand aside, Katie, and let us men figure out the best way to go about this thing!”

By now we were all laughing, including the kids, who had never seen a family squabble line up quite so definitely with the women against the men. It was sure good to see Pa entering into the spirit of it now, after his initial hesitation.

A lot more lively discussion followed throughout the evening. Despite all the suggestions the rest of us were free to give, the wisdom of the candidate prevailed when she said, “Perhaps the best idea is that we let this whole committee manage my campaign. What do you say—we six, three men, three women? That way we’ll be able to give even voice to the concerns of the men and the women, the young and the old, the married and the unmarried, the business persons and the miners. We’ll have our whole Miracle Springs constituency represented right on our ‘Hollister for Mayor’ committee—do you all agree?”

Everyone looked around at each other. What she said made sense.

“Maybe you are cut out to be a politician, Almeda,” said Pa. “That sounds just like the kind of solution a mayor oughta be able to figure out—with a little speechmaking thrown in!”

We laughed.

“And the first thing for the committee to get busy on,” she said, “is publicity. That, I think, would be your department, Corrie,” she added, turning toward me.

The result could be seen the next afternoon in the window of the Parrish Mine and Freight Company, with a hand-lettered poster where the words Vote Almeda Hollister for Mayor of Miracle Springs suddenly declared to the whole town that the poster in the bank’s window wasn’t the only political message to be heard anymore.

This election had now become a two man—that is, a two-person—race!

It took only the rest of that day and half of the next morning for the poster to be seen and for word to begin to get around. But when it did, the news spread like a brushfire in a hot wind. Before the week was out there wasn’t anything in the mouths of people for miles around other than what they thought of Almeda going up against Franklin Royce. Some folks thought it was ridiculous. Others said privately they would vote for her if they could, but they just couldn’t afford to rile Royce. A lot of the men said women ought to stay where they belonged and keep out of politics. Of course, all the women admired Almeda and loved the idea, but none of them could vote. And most of the men, whether they liked the idea or not, said she had guts to try it, although some added it would probably ruin her business in the end. Royce wasn’t the kind of man you got on the wrong side of, they said.

All of a sudden, the Fremont-Buchanan election seemed far away and uninteresting!