Chapter Twelve

During the service the next morning, the Bible reading and sermon were all about loving one's neighbors, about not judging others, about all the things that supported town and village getting along. Then Reverend Gilman spoke about the town meeting and why everyone who could come should be there.

Sunday afternoon I was deep into math homework, which I almost sort of like, when I heard a loud crash from downstairs. Dad and Stu were both out someplace, so I dashed down to see if Mom was okay, and I found her sitting on the floor in the kitchen, her back against the fridge, and sobbing. All around her were cobalt blue shards, obviously the wreckage of that bowl I’d used for the butternut squash last Thanksgiving.

She tried to wipe the tears away when she saw me, but there was no use pretending. She didn't even try to get up.

"Mom?" I sat, too, moving a few shards out of the way. "What happened? Is it just the bowl?"

"Just the bowl, Jesse? Just the bowl?"

"What else, then?"

Her breath caught, and when she scrunched her face, more tears leaked out of her eyes. She picked up a large shard and held it toward me. "This bowl," she paused and opened her eyes, "this bowl was me. This bowl was the only thing I had that represented who I am. This bowl is who I wanted to be."

I felt my head shake once or twice in confusion. "I—what does that mean, exactly?"

"I’m saying that I had to leave the creative part of myself behind. I’m saying I wanted to create beautiful ceramic things, not buy them."

She started to stand up. I helped her to a chair, and then I picked up all the shards carefully while she watched. I fetched a plastic storage bag, set all the shiny blue bits into it, and zipped it shut. Then she said, "Will you make me a cup of tea, Jesse?"

Anything. I’d have done anything for her right then.

As I started the water heating, I noticed her gaze was on the case of Hummels in the living room. Her voice quiet and sad, she said, "That bowl was the last thing I made. I was an art major at college, and I made the bowl in a ceramics class there."

"I didn’t know you went to college."

She let out a sound that was almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. "It didn’t last long. I left when I got pregnant."

"What?"

"I fell in love, Jesse. And so did your father. And we started a child by accident. We decided to marry, because we were headed that way anyway, but then I miscarried. By then I’d come back to Himlen, and the effort of getting back into school and back into art, especially with a home and husband to care for and the very real possibility of getting pregnant again—and both your father and I wanted a family—and everything about art fell by the wayside. Mind you, I wasn't very good at thinks like figurines, like those Hummels. But," she watched as I poured boiling water into her tea mug, "I did very well at functional things like that bowl. I got really interested in glazes and different ways of firing things. And that bowl… that bowl was the most beautiful thing I made. It made me willing to leave my unrealistic idea of making figurines behind." She sighed. "And then I got pregnant."

"So… I had an older brother or sister who died? And you lost sight of your dream?"

She smiled at me, a sad smile. "That’s about the size of it, Jesse."

"Well, why don’t you do something now? Stu and I don’t exactly need you at home any more. And Dad doesn’t. You have time now. You could still do bookkeeping for Dad and work in ceramics."

She shook her head. "It’s too late for that, Jesse. I can’t go back to school now."

"Wait here." I dashed upstairs again, grabbed my laptop, and scrambled back down. She watched me as though sure I was wasting my time even though she appreciated the effort, while I searched. In no time at all, I said, "Aha! Look at this."

I turned the laptop so she could see the screen, and I pulled my chair up close to hers. I scrolled and clicked and moved from page to page on the site, a center for ceramics education about three hours from here. "See? They have classes, and retreats, and workshops. You can learn about clays and colors and firing techniques, and how to sell your stuff. Mom, it’s all here! You can make all the bowls you want!"

"All that costs money, Jesse. I’d have to stay overnight a lot."

"Well… not that much though, I bet." But she was right. "Hang on, I haven’t given up yet." And in another minute I'd found an artist in McAlester who offered classes and workshops. "Here. This is no farther than Stu goes for his auto mechanics classes." I bookmarked the site and turned the laptop over to her. "See what you think. I’ll just sweep the floor to make sure there aren’t any bits I missed."

When I’d finished, Mom was still browsing, but then she pushed the laptop away from her on the table.

"It’s less money, but it’s still money. My piano lesson income wouldn't cover enough to be worth it." She sighed and closed the laptop. "You go back upstairs, Jesse. Finish your homework so you can go to college and have the career you want. Follow the dream that's yours. Because if you have to give up your dream, even though you might find a substitute," she glanced toward her Hummel case, "you'll never be able to get enough of it."

 

 

Dinner conversation was pretty discouraging for me. Dad and Stu were both there, and they talked about the town meeting as though it were a fool's errand. At one point Dad said, "Stupid idea. How can we hope to feel neighborly toward people who worship trees?"

I'd been trying to stay out of it; if they already disrespected me for being so stubbornly gay, why would they listen to me about this? But I couldn't help it. "They don't worship trees, Dad. They believe in the same things Jesus talked about. Like loving each other, and forgiving each other for things."

His chin rose a little as he glared at me. "So what do they worship then, if you know so much about them?"

"They have a god-figure. It just happens to be female."

Before I could say any more, Dad let out a loud, barking laugh. "There you go! That's worse."

Mom's quiet voice said, "How is that worse?"

Both Dad and Stu looked at her and then down at their plates. Dad stabbed at the last piece of his pork chop and said, "I don't think we need to discuss this any more."

But Mom wasn't done. "I'm going to the meeting. I think we should all go."

Stu wouldn't look up, but he shook his head. "Oh, no way I'm going to that."

Mom stood and lifted her plate from the table. "You're forgetting that the villagers saved Patty's life, and probably Jesse's as well. Seems to me they have more Christian spirit than you have." She reached over and swiped Dad's almost-empty plate away from him.

"I wasn't done with that!"

She ignored him.

I whipped Stu's plate away from him, which made him yell, and took it along with mine over to the counter.

Dad nearly whined, "What about dessert?"

Mom wheeled on him. "I think you'd better come back for that later. I'm not in the mood to serve you right now." And she turned her back on him and began to move dishes and pans around as noisily as possible without actually breaking anything. Dad and Stu stomped downstairs to watch TV.

Mom and I were still doing cleanup when the house phone rang. I answered it, and it was Mrs. Gilman. Listening as I washed out a couple of pans, I could tell it was about the town meeting. Mom promised she would absolutely be there, and I wanted to hug her.

 

 

That week at school felt weird. Our TVA meeting on Monday had been all about what we could do to support the town meeting, though both Mrs. Knapp and Mr. Duncan said it would be better for us not to call attention to ourselves until we had some idea how the meeting would go.

"There'll be plenty of time to get more involved later," Mrs. Knapp told us. "For now, just go with your parents, or with the parents of a friend if yours aren't going. We'll discuss the outcome at our next meeting."

Tuesday at school I asked Brad if his folks were going, and he said he didn't think so. I didn't bother to ask about Stacy's parents, and I wasn't sure I dared ask about Staci. I said, "My mom and I are going. Do you want to come with us?"

"I'll get back to you on that." At least it wasn't an outright "no way."

Every so often, in one class or another or in one hallway conversation or another, I'd hear some comment about whether someone was going or not. The sense I got was that although there were definitely some parents planning to go, mostly the kids were not. This confused me enough that I stopped beside Janice's locker when I heard her friend Deanna say that she wasn't going, but her parents were.

I said, "Sorry. Eavesdropping shamelessly. Um, why is it you're not going if your folks are?"

Deanna said, "My dad says things might get nasty. He doesn't want me there if that happens."

"Why would they get nasty? What do you think he meant?"

She shrugged and made a face like, "How would I know?"

As soon as I could find Ivy, I told her what Deanna had said. "I know," she told me. "I've been hearing things like that, too. I've told Daddy. You should probably tell Mr. Duncan."

So I did. He nodded like he wasn't surprised. I asked, "What can we do about it?"

"Not much we can do, Jesse. Except maybe to remain as calm as possible, ourselves. There will be a few police officers there just in case, but I doubt they'll need to take any action."

When I got home, I told Mom what I'd heard. "Are you sure you still want to go?"

She stood very straight. "I'm going to take a stand on this, Jesse. Maybe you shouldn't go, though."

I shook my head. "We're going together."

Next I texted Griffin. Are you worried about the town meeting

We're all worried but we're going

Mom and I will too

Thank you

Next I called Brad. "I know I asked if you wanted to go to the meeting with me and my mom, but I've been hearing there might be trouble. Maybe you shouldn't go."

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm some kind of sissy?"

"What? No, that's not what I meant. I was just thinking Staci wouldn't forgive me if I dragged you into a fray."

"Staci doesn't tell me what to do and what not to do."

Oh, my. Did they have a fight? "I—um, I wasn't trying to say she does. But I know she's not exactly—"

"Doesn't matter."

"Are you two okay?"

"We're taking a little break."

"Brad, spill. What happened? Did it have anything to do with Saturday?"

I heard a long exhale. "I know she didn't show it much at the time, but she was a little freaked out when you found that obsidian. Started saying things like how they'd gotten to you. Some such nonsense. I thought it was pretty cool, and I told her I wished I could do that. Find deposits like that. Um, how did you do it, anyway?"

"It was some kind of energy; it pulled me forward, and I could see the shape inside the rock. I don't really know. Um, Brad, look—I feel shitty about this."

"No need. She just needs some time. We haven't broken up or anything. But I might just go to the meeting. Phil asked if I wanted to go with him and his folks, too."

"Well, if you're going, I'd really appreciate your coming with me and my mom. Dad's not coming. Or Stu. So I could really use the support."

"Done." He chuckled. "Just don't tell Staci. I'll tell her myself at some point."

And just like that, I had my best friend back again. See, Ronan? Sometimes things work.

All this talk of who would go and who wouldn't made me wonder whether Patty was going, even if Stu wasn't. So I called her.

"I don't know, Jesse. I'm not sure I'm ready to make a statement about that."

"What statement?"

"You know. I'm not quite sure how I feel about the village."

"No one's asking anyone to have anyone else over for dinner. It's just a way of saying that we don't like how the village has been treated. We don't believe idiotic rumors, we don't think they're all Satanists or that they have orgies in the woods or cast spells on anyone or—"

"Are you sure?"

"What?"

"Are you sure they don't do any of those things?"

I was a little surprised to realize that beyond that dinner where I'd brought up porphyria, and the brief conversation after she'd lost the baby, I hadn't said much to Patty about my own connections with the village. "I was with them the day of the tornado. I'm good friends with Griffin Holyoke and his girlfriend,Ivy Gilman." I let that sink in. Then, "I've talked with Griffin, with their leader Eleanor Darling, and with Griffin's friend Ronan Coulter," let that name sink in, too, "and I've learned a whole lot about how they do worship. It has nothing to do with the devil or orgies or spells or anything like that."

"Do your folks know all this?"

I skirted around her question. "Think about it, Patty. Mr. Ward tried to protect Mary Blaisdell and died for it. Griffin Holyoke saved a beautiful black cat from being mutilated last Halloween. Violet Fisher, who takes piano lessons from my mom, is a sweet little girl who loves Hummels. They took me into their tornado shelter without a second thought. Todd Swazey saved your life. And nobody, nobody at all, can come up with anything provable that’s bad about them. The bad stuff comes from the town, from bullies who call them names and kill cats themselves and spray things like ‘Vampire’ on school lockers. They never do anything to retaliate. All they want to do is make friends. Don’t you think we should meet them half way?"

She chuckled. "Don't be shy, Jesse. Tell me how you really feel."

"Mom and I are going, and my friend Brad from the football team will go with us. You probably already know Stu and Dad won't be there, but will you come with us?"

She hesitated just a second and said, "Ask me after church on Sunday. I won't make other plans for that evening. Fair?"

Fair enough, I supposed. It would have to do.

 

 

Sunday at church it was obvious something big was going on. There were probably only about two-thirds the normal number of people in the congregation, and of course the sermon was once again on topic for making nice with your neighbors. I had to say, though, that the people who were there seemed towant to be there. That is, it wasn't the usual go-to-church-because-it's-Sunday crowd. And it included my entire family, Patty, her parents, and all the Elliotts.

On the way home, beside Mom in the back of her car, I texted Patty. Come with us?

You bet.

Yes!

Over lunch, Mom informed everyone that we'd be having dinner on the early side so she and I could get to the town meeting. Dad grumbled, and Stu said something about going to Patty's for dinner. It was hard not to throw a questioning look at him; obviously he was taking it for granted that Patty would feed him whenever he wanted. This would be a good lesson.

And, sure enough, Stu was with us for dinner.

As soon as Brad showed up, Mom drove us over to Patty's, so the four of us walked into the function hall together. We weren't the first, and in fact there were already enough people there that it was obvious the townsfolk were mostly on the right of a center aisle, and the "freaks" were on the left side. There had been a couple of police cars out front, kind of on display, and there were some officers inside, seemingly trying to walk a fine line between keeping things calm and keeping a low profile.

Mom came to a halt inside the door, and I could tell she was unsure where she should sit. Before she could make a decision I disagreed with, I said, "I see the other TVA members over there," and I pointed to the left where I could see Phil and his parents, Mr. Duncan, Mrs. Gilman, and Ivy. I started to move in that direction when Mom grabbed my shoulder.

"Jesse, I think I'd rather sit over on the other side."

I turned sharply to her. "Why?"

Patty intervened. "Diane, I'm going to sit with Jesse. I think this effort needs all the support it can get. And I don't want to be aligned with the people who were too holier-than-thou to come to church this morning. What do you say?"

"But—they're all sitting on one side together. Why shouldn't we?"

"Mom, it's up to us to make the first move. They don't pick on us or call us names or—" I almost said knock over our sacred buildings, but towns people weren't supposed to know about that stone circle—"or beat us up because we're Christians."

She heaved a deep sigh and turned toward the left. Brad, who'd been quiet during this exchange, shrugged and followed me.

Griffin had been watching us, and he gestured toward someone on the right side. Griffin's mom, and a man I didn't recognize who must have been Mr. Holyoke (and who looked as "normal" as Mrs. Holyoke), stood; so not all the villagers were on the left side, after all. I knew Griffin wanted me to introduce my mom to his folks. So I did.

Then Mrs. Holyoke said, "Mrs. Bryce, Patty, won't you come sit with us? I'm sure Jesse and Brad would prefer to sit with their friends. We're right over there, next to the Fishers. Oh—I bet you'd like to meet them! Violet's not here, but let me introduce you to her parents."

So at least two village families had broken ranks and mingled with the non-Pagans, and Mom got to sit on that side after all.

As Brad and I moved toward Mr. Duncan and the TVA crowd, I glanced over at the town side, and there seemed to be another line of demarcation there between people who'd been at church earlier, where the Holyokes and the Fishers were sitting, and those who hadn't. I figured it was possible that latter group was here to make trouble.

Conversation in the room got a little louder as more people came in, and the room filled up pretty well, but it still wasn't loud when Reverend Gilman and Eleanor walked onto the small stage area at the front. At the same time, the mayor went to sit in a chair off to one side of the reverend. Then everything got very quiet.

The reverend spoke first. "Welcome! I'm delighted to see so many people here tonight. I know many of you agree that it's time for all residents of Himlen, regardless of where they live, to be more neighborly toward each other than we've been in the past. I have with me Ms. Eleanor Darling, representing the village community."

Eleanor, who looked unremarkable except for her long hair, which she'd piled high on her head, smiled at the crowd and nodded. Her turn to speak.

"For anyone who doesn't already know, this effort Reverend Gilman and I are supporting tonight was inspired by two students at the town high school: Jesse Bryce and Reverend Gilman's daughter, Ivy. It's called the TVA, or Town Village Alliance. It has members from the town and from the village, and for the last several weeks they've made a sincere effort to get to know and understand each other better. They've been very successful."

She turned to Reverend Gilman, who took the vocal baton back. "It's often the case that parents learn from their children. I think the example of this TVA is one of those times. What Ms. Darling and I are proposing is that—"

He was drowned out by some man on the town side. "What you want is for us to pretend those people should be encouraged in their heathen ways!"

The reverend waited patiently while a few other people shouted their agreement. Then he said, "For my part, Mr. Dwyer, I am asking those of us who call ourselves Christian to turn our hearts to love and our minds to Godly actions. We should follow the example of Jesus himself, who extended his offer of love to people from many backgrounds."

Eleanor's voice rang clear; she was almost as used to public speaking as the reverend. "And for my part, I ask that people of the village put behind us the actions that have caused us to feel persecuted, looking only forward and working toward common ground, understanding, and mutual respect."

Again from the right, a woman's voice, perhaps Lou Dwyer's mother this time: "We can't respect people who worship the devil!"

This time it took a little longer, and two of the cops stepping forward, for things to quiet down.

Eleanor spoke again. "Allow me to respond to that. As it happens, my people don't recognize the type of spirit you refer to as the devil. Please set that idea aside. It does not pertain to us."

"Liar!" That was Lou's father again, I was pretty sure.

Reverend Gilman stepped forward, trying to ignore that last accusation. "As you can see, there are many things that we in the town don't understand about our neighbors in the village. Throughout history, we see that when people of good will make an honest effort to understand each other, strife ends and friendship begins. So here's what Ms. Darling and I are asking: Any family or individual in the town who would like to be introduced to a family or individual from the village should contact me in the next few days."

Eleanor said, "And anyone from the village who would like to get to know someone from the town better, let me know."

Reverend Gilman polished it off. "We'd love for some of these meetings to take place in the next few weeks. Then Ms. Darling and I will set up another town meeting and see what other steps we might like to take."

There was some indistinct grumbling from the area around the Dwyers. I heard the word "freaks" a few times.

"For now," the reverend said over the noise, "Ms. Darling has made an extremely generous offer, one that I hope we can all greet with respect and appreciation. To help people from the town decide whether you'd like to participate in the effort I just described, she has offered to answer questions we might have about the village. So if there is something you'd like to ask, raise your hand and I will call on you so we don't end up in a free-for-all. Again, I ask that your questions be respectful and that you ask them with the sincere intention of understanding each other better."

OMG. I couldn't believe Eleanor had set herself up for this. I couldn't imagine that it would go well.

I was right.

Mr. Dwyer shot his arm up immediately, but Reverend Gilman ignored him in favor of a woman in the next row.

"I have a question for you, reverend. How do you expect us to be all friendly with people who hate Christ?"

The reverend turned to Eleanor, who said, "Please believe me when I say that we by no means hate Christ. Hatred of anyone is anathema to us. We believe in love as strongly as Reverend Gilman does."

I noticed she didn't say, "as strongly as Christians do."

The woman spoke again before the reverend could acknowledge anyone else. "Then why don't you worship Jesus?"

The room got very quiet. I watched Eleanor carefully; how the hell could she answer a question like that without enraging these people who were already condemning her?

"We follow the primary message of Jesus of Nazareth," she said, and that blew me away. "Jesus wanted to renew his people's commitment to love. My community is committed to love, exactly as he exhorted his followers to be. And while we don't specifically call ourselves Christians, we respect the intentions and potential beauty of the religion that sprang up after he died."

"But you don't worship him!"

"And you don't worship as we do. We don't believe that makes you wrong or us right. What's important is for a belief system to be motivated by love."

A number of people shouted different things along the lines of, "But you are wrong!" A few of them stood up, and the cops moved forward again. Suddenly something went flying through the air and landed with a loud thud near Eleanor's feet.

A stone.

I heard Brad's voice beside me. "Holy shit." And then another stone flew, and another after that, which brushed the reverend's arm. The cops moved in again, but it was obvious the meeting was over. Even so, both Eleanor and Reverend Gilman stood where they were, looking determined and unafraid.

I turned to look at Mom and Patty across the way, and by their faces I'd have said they both felt some combination of anger and fear.

Then a woman near me whom I hadn't noticed stood. "I'm Clio Coulter, and I'd like to get to know someone from the town."

I thought for sure another stone would go flying, but instead my own mother stood up. Even Brad didn't have words for this surprise.

"I'm Diane Bryce, and I'd like to get to know someone from the village."

The two women looked at each other, and something from the back of my mind shot forward: Mrs. Coulter throws pots. That's what Ronan had said that day in the treehouse when I'd admired the mugs he'd served hot cider in.

And suddenly there was another stone. A large one. It hit my mother's shoulder, and she cried out and sank back into her chair.

I pushed my way out of the row I was in and got to her as quickly as I could, Brad on my heels. He and I surrounded Mom and Patty and pushed through the crowd and out the door to the street. I took the keys from Mom's bag, and Patty got into the back with her. Beside me in front, Brad called his folks to let them know what had happened and to say he was fine and would be home a little later. Meanwhile I was preparing myself to do battle with Dad and Stu. I expected they would blame me for starting this whole thing, and Mom for being "foolish" enough to get pulled into it.

But there was no battle. By the time we got home, Mrs. Gilman had phoned already, and Dad and Stu were furious. But not at me, and not at Mom.

Mom insisted that she was all right, but there was a nasty bruise forming on the bone of her shoulder, and it hurt her to lift the arm very far.

Barely containing his fury, Dad asked, "Who threw it, Jesse? Did you see?"

"Honestly, no. I didn't." I had my suspicions, based on my knowledge that the stone had come from the direction of where the Dwyers were, but I couldn't be sure, and I didn't want to have to bail Dad and Stu out of jail for whatever might happen if they went charging out in a vigilante mood.

Stu took Patty by her shoulders and then touched her face gently. "Are you all right, babe? Did you get hurt at all?" When he was sure she was fine, Stu turned to Brad and held his hand out. "Thanks for going with them. I should have been there."

I was so shocked that I didn't have to try very hard not to agree out loud.

Dad decided to take Mom to the emergency room for an X-Ray, and I have to say I thought that was a good idea. I called Griffin to make sure no one else got hurt, and then Brad sat with Stu and me in the living room, shell-shocked and not quite sure what to say. I did my best, when Stu asked, to describe the meeting and what Mrs. Coulter and Mom had said just before the stone hit, and he didn't interrupt with any of his usual disparaging comments.

He turned to Patty. "What was your take on this?"

"It was pretty bad, Stu. I mean, most of the towns people were there for the right reasons. To learn, I mean. But the ones who were there to make trouble did exactly that. I couldn't believe how calm Eleanor Darling and Reverend Gilman were! They never seemed afraid or angry. And the things Eleanor said sounded positively Christian. I think a lot of people were as surprised as I was. But obviously some people didn't believe her. Didn't want to."

Brad's phone rang, and he moved into the kitchen. I could tell the call was from Staci, but I couldn't tell how the conversation went.

Brad came back from the kitchen and gestured toward the front door. I followed. He said, "I'm gonna head out, Jesse."

"Are you and Staci okay?"

"We're gonna have a talk. I'm going over there now."

"Thanks for going with us. And for helping me get Mom and Patty out."

He stood there for a few seconds, looked at his feet, then shook his head. "You, uh, you're doing a good thing, Jesse." He looked up again. "And you got guts, I'll give you that. So does your mom." I lifted a shoulder, an "Aw, shucks" moment. "So, is there still a spot for me in this club of yours?"

I grinned at him. "Mondays, right after school. You can walk over with Ivy and me tomorrow."

 

 

But there was no TVA meeting the next day. Instead, each member got a note during home room to go to Mrs. Knapp's office after classes instead. I let Brad know, and he came with me.

When everyone was there, standing in the crowded office, Mrs. Knapp turned to me. "How is your mother, Jesse?"

I told her what she'd learned at the ER. "It's a bad bone bruise. Nothing broken or chipped. It hurts to move her arm very far, and she's taking an anti-inflammatory. It's going to cut into her piano playing, and she'll need some help in the kitchen."

"I know you'll do what you can. Please tell her I'm concerned about her. And now." She took a breath. "I don't like having to do this, but I've been informed by the regional school board that we need to call a temporary halt to the TVA."

She held up a hand when we all started to protest. "It's because of the violence at last night's town meeting. We weren't surprised by some of the attitudes, but the throwing of rocks was not expected. We all knew that there might be some push-back, both here at school and in the community, but last night's reaction was extreme enough that there's a question of your safety. So for now—and I stress, for now—the TVA is on hiatus. Thanks to all of you for your sincere efforts, and you'll hear from me if and when the club can start up again. That's all."

Outside, the little group seemed reluctant to break apart and go separate ways.

Ivy said, "What if we meet at my house instead of the church? We're just a group of friends, right? I can have friends over if I want."

Interestingly, Griffin was the voice of reason, even if I didn't want to hear it. "Let's give you a chance to ask your dad first. Maybe plan for next week, if he's okay with it. Let's you and I go talk to him now. How's that?"

We all agreed on this plan, and Brad suggested Phil and I go with him to The Pig for a consolation ice cream. I sat across from Brad in a booth, with Phil beside me. While we waited for our orders, I asked Brad, "Is this a bad time to ask how things sit with Staci?"

"No. It's fine. She, uh, she was pretty upset about the rocks. Said she was glad she wasn't there. So was I, as things turned out. I told her how it went, and she didn't chime in with her usual comments about the 'freaks,' so I'm hoping she's thinking about things. Hard to tell. She still hasn't decided whether to contact her aunt." He gave Phil a thumbnail sketch of that situation.

I asked, "Does she know you were ready to throw your lot in with the TVA?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I told her. Let's just say she'll be thrilled that they've stopped it."

"For now," Phil said.

"Yeah. For now."

The air felt heavy, like there was something we all knew was in front of us but that no one would acknowledge. And it was this: We were sure the TVA was dead.

I was pretty quiet the rest of the time we were there. Didn't know what to say. Didn't want to say how I was feeling, which was angry and sad and, on some level I couldn't explain, betrayed. While talk went on without me about summer football practice, I tried counting in my mind the good things that had happened. Like, how Mom and Patty both went and were now firmly on my side of this debate. Brad had taken a stand with me. Ronan's mom and mine might actually get to meet, and maybe—just maybe—ceramics were in my mom's future again. Most of the townsfolk last night had not been outright antagonistic, though of course I couldn't really tell how they did feel. Eleanor had said some really great things that people needed to hear, but I didn't know how many of those people believed her.

And there was no denying the bad things. Right up there on top was my mother being stoned. I was responsible for that. I was the one who got this ball rolling. I was the one who convinced her to get involved. Now Patty was involved, too, and who knew what Dad and Stu might do to protect their own family? What might happen to some of the village families, especially the ones who stuck their necks out last night?

This was all my fault. And Ronan had been right.