by Leslie Meier
All five board members were stunned, even Bud Collins, who had been nodding off. They had certainly not expected this.
“I’d like a clarification,” said White. “Did you say you want us to cancel the fireworks?”
“You mean call them off?” demanded Marzetti.
“No fireworks at all?” exclaimed Crowley. “Isn’t that un-American?”
“Believe me, we are not making this request lightly,” said Franke, looking very serious. “We wouldn’t consider it except for these facts.” He lifted a finger. “A: The lichen is severely endangered throughout the state. B: The lichen is extremely fragile and easily damaged by foot traffic. And C: The lichen is highly flammable and one errant spark could wipe out the entire Quisset Point colony.”
“I get you,” said Crowley. “What say we move the fireworks off the point? Onto a barge or something?”
“Once again I believe there would be substantial risk from sparks.”
Crowley scratched his head. “Okay, you say this is the best colony in the entire state, right? Well how come, if we’ve had the fireworks out there every year since who knows when? I mean, maybe this pinky-spotted moss likes fireworks! Have you thought of that, hey?”
“Actually, we have, and we’ve concluded that the continuing success of this particular colony of purple-spotted lichen is nothing less than miraculous. We’ve been lucky so far, but it’s far too dangerous to continue endangering this highly-stressed species.”
The board was silent, considering this.
“Can I say something?”
Lucy turned and saw Scratch Hallett was on his feet, his VFW cap in his hand.
“Please do,” invited White, desperate for an alternative to calling off the fireworks.
“This just don’t seem right to me,” began Hallett. “A lot of folks have fought and some have even made the supreme sacrifice to keep America the land of the free and the home of the brave. We celebrate that freedom on the Fourth of July, always have, ever since 1776, and I don’t see what this purple-spotted stuff has got to do with it. We didn’t know we had it, none of us did except these here environmentalists. I never noticed it myself, and I don’t care about it. We defeated the Germans and the Japanese and just lately the Iraqis so we could enjoy freedom and you’re telling me have to stop because of an itty-bitty little plant?”
“Mr. Franke, would you care to reply?” said White. “I think this gentleman has made an important point.”
“Yes, yes he has,” said Franke, beginning diplomatically. “And I and the other members of the Association value our American values and freedoms as much as anyone, and the sacrifices made by members of the Armed Forces. I want to assure you of that. But,” he continued, his voice taking on a certain edge, “I’d also like to remind you that the purple-spotted lichen is on the list of endangered species in this state and is therefore subject to all the protections provided by the state’s environmental protection statute, which includes substantial penalties to any person or agency judged to have caused harm to said species.”
The board members looked miserable. If she hadn’t known better, Lucy would have suspected they were all coming down with an intestinal virus.
“As much as I hate to cancel the fireworks, it seems to me we have a responsibility to preserve our environment,” said Ellie.
“I think we have to look at the APTC track record,” said Crowley. “They’ve been active in our town for a good while now, and Tinker’s Cove is a better place for it. We’ve preserved open space, we’ve maintained our community character, I think we’ve got to give them the benefit of the doubt on this one.”
“I don’t know what community character you’re talking about. It’s things like the Fourth of July parade and the fireworks that give our town character. I refuse to vote against the fireworks,” declared Marzetti, who had grown hot around the collar.
“Well said,” drawled Bud Collins.
“Is this a vote?” Howard White seemed uncharacteristically confused.
The others nodded.
“Two for and two against. I guess it’s up to me.”
The room was silent.
“My inclination is to hold the fireworks. It’s been a tradition in this town for as long as I’ve been here and I hate to see it end.” White sighed. “But I truly believe it would be irresponsible and futile to ignore the state regulation. It would set a bad precedent and it would cost us dearly in the end. It’s with great sorrow that I vote to discontinue the fireworks display.”
He had hardly finished speaking when Scratch Hallett was on his feet, marching out of the room. He paused at the door. “This isn’t the end of this,” he declared, as he set his VFW hat on hs head. “We may have lost the battle, but we haven’t lost the war!”
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2003 by Leslie Meier
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-6487-9