With all eyes on her, the town clerk continued the process of counting out loud. The assistant sat nearby keeping the tally.
“DesRosiers. DesRosiers. Campbell. Campbell. Campbell. DesRosiers. Campbell. DesRosiers. DesRosiers. DesRosiers. Campbell. Campbell. DesRosiers… .”
Pali sighed and looked at his watch. Less than an hour—if they were lucky—and the Island’s future would be determined.
At this moment, Fiona burst into the room, bringing with her the smell of barn. Her boots and jeans muddy, her hair was wind-blown. All eyes but those of the two clerks turned to her. Pali couldn’t help noticing that her wild appearance did not harm her looks. Stella’s eyes narrowed into thin slits and she sniffed pointedly.
“Where have you been?” hissed Elisabeth. “I’ve been calling you all night. And by the way, you stink.”
“Sorry. Long story. My phone battery died. What’s happening?” Terry leaned over. “Final count nearly finished.”
Fiona merely nodded and said nothing. She was wrung of emotion. Silently she sat next to Pali on one of the folding metal chairs arranged along the wall, her mind and heart elsewhere. The others, having been there now for hours, were restless and fidgety.
The clerk and her assistant began whispering together and comparing their tallies. The rest of the room drew a collective breath and waited to hear their announcement. Everyone, that is, except Stella.
“What are you whispering about?” she demanded. “This is public business. You have to tell us what is going on.”
The clerk ignored her, and continued her conversation with the assistant. After a moment she turned to the rest of the room. “We have reviewed the tallies,” she announced with great dignity, “and believe we have a discrepancy. We will count again.”
Jake groaned loudly, expressing the feelings of them all. Stella made a stage-whispered remark about incompetence.
And the counting began again.