The jury came back in 45 minutes, and I honestly didn’t have a clue what the verdict would be. I slid back into my seat and held my breath as one of jurors read off a slip of paper he held in his hand.
“The jury finds for the plaintiff, Corey Hawkins. For the full amount of the suit.” All 30 starbills. Corey and Pete gave each other high fives while Jill immediately left the room. I ran after her.
“Jill!” I shouted. I finally caught up to her.
“Go away,” she said softly.
“Jill, I’m sorry.”
She stopped suddenly and I almost ran into her. She looked at me with her hands on her hips. “Thanks a lot.” She took off and I didn’t follow her.
9
FALLING APART
I WAS SITTING IN MY office, staring at the wall, when Scott came bursting in. “You gotta see this,” he said, and didn’t wait for me to get up.
We ran to McAlister Park, which was on the other side of Whit’s End. There was a gathering of about 20 kids, some Kidsboro residents, some not. I wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but Max and several of his friends were pushing five other kids (all Kidsboro residents) on the merry-go-round. The riders didn’t appear to be having fun—but Max and his friends did.
“What are they doing?’
“Max and his friends have been pushing these guys on the merry-go-round for about an hour now, nonstop.”
“An hour?”
“It gets worse. About 15 minutes ago, they went into phase two. They forced them to eat greasy potato chips. A full bag each.”
“Forced them? How?”
“You tell me. Why do you think these guys owe anything to Max?”
“You think they all borrowed money from him?”
“I’ve got no proof. But it sure looks that way.”
Scott left to go sneak around a bit. No one noticed me as I moved a little closer. The five boys on the merry-go-round were looking very green. A large piece of cardboard with writing on It was propped up near the merry-go-round. As I studied it more closely, I realized It was a sign asking for predictions on which kid would throw up first. No one had done so yet, but by the looks of the victims, that wasn’t too far away. There was also another friend of Max’s videotaping the entire thing and giving a play-by-play commentary.
I wondered what I should do. Since they were not within the Kidsboro city limits, there was nothing that I could do legally. I had no authority over Max. We were both just kids in a park. But there had to be another way that I could make him pay for his cruelty.
Scott ran up and handed me a piece of paper. “Look at this,” he said. “I found it in James’s backpack.”
“What are you doing going through people’s backpacks?”
“It was open.”
I looked at the paper. “What is it?”
“A loan contract between James and Max. Max gave James a loan of five starbills, at 50 percent interest, compounded monthly.”
I quickly did some math in my head and soon figured out that James would owe Max about 16 starbills in just three months. Max was the only person in Kidsboro who could afford to pay off 16 starbills.
“And look at this right here,” Scott went on, pointing to the bottom of the page. “It says that if James doesn’t make monthly payments, then Max will decide how payment will be made.”
“Meaning James will have to be his slave.”
“Bingo.”
“Meaning he’ll have to do his homework and play along with him and his friends while they put him on the vomit machine.”
“Exactly.”
I couldn’t figure out how someone as smart as James could be so naïve. Maybe he was so desperate to hold on to his house that he temporarily lost his common sense. Max was using my program to humiliate people.
“Okay. Max can’t get away with this.” I stomped over to him. He was pulling a six-pack of soda out of a black box. He seemed happy to see me, which annoyed me a lot.
“Hey …my good friend Ryan! You’re just in time. We’re fix in’ to go into phase three. The warm soda phase.” He laughed. “Won’t that be the coolest?”
“I need to talk to you about this, Max.” I held up the contract. “It was in James’s book bag.”
“Hey! What are you doin’ goin’ through people’s book bags?”
“It was open.”
Max looked at the paper and smiled. “Oh, yeah. One of my little goodies. What a great idea this turned out to be, huh?”
“You can’t do this.”
He didn’t stop smiling. “I can’t?”
“You can’t make him pay back his loan by spinning him on a merry-go-round for an hour.”
“Oh, but you know what? Strangest thing. Right here in the contract. See that? That right there says I can.”
“I don’t care what this lousy contract says.”
His smile disappeared. “The city charter states that all legal documents are binding. This is a legal document, signed by me, James, and a certified lawyer of Kidsboro.” I looked at it again. Pete’s signature was at the bottom. Another person I needed to scold. “According to this legal document, I can charge any interest rate I want, and I can collect it however I want.”
He was right. He could make these kids spin until their eyeballs faced the backs of their heads, and I couldn’t do anything about it.
“How many people have you got under contract?” I asked, not wanting to know.
“Five,” he said smiling. “Hey, we’re going into phase three. You’re welcome to stay.” He took off with the warm soda.
Five. And if my memory served me correctly, that was exactly the number of people whose lives had been “saved” by the Everybody Works program.
The first thing I had to do was call a city council meeting. Whether it looked like a political move or not, I had to recall the new law. It wasn’t working, and it was threatening to destroy the town.
The city council met, and by a vote of four to one (Alice being the lone “nay” ), we agreed to repeal the Everybody Works program. Everybody could go back to living in their clubhouses, while all the businesses in town went bankrupt because nobody was making any money.
I was planning to spend the rest of the day preparing for the debate, which was the next night, but when I got back to my office, I was too depressed to think about it. Maybe Max was right. This wasn’t a town. It was just a bunch of clubhouses in the woods.
10
THE DEBATE
ON APRIL 30, I WROTE down the 10 things I would least like to be doing that night. Number one was getting dragged behind a car through a field of cactuses. Debating Valerie in front of the whole town was number two, but not by much.
The election was the next day after school, and I wasn’t sure if I could turn the tide in one night. In a town of only 28 people (down from 29 after we banished Nick), you can pretty much figure out who’s going to win if you simply know the people. I knew I had my own vote (unless Valerie was so good in the debate that she convinced me not to vote for myself), and I knew I had Scott’s. He was, after all, my best friend. After that, I had no idea if I had any more votes. Max would vote for Valerie since he obviously had no regard for me whatsoever. Alice was mad at me for humiliating her about the Roberto investigation. Jill was mad at me for ruining her life. Nelson was a possible vote. Then again, being Valerie’s brother, he had to live with her wrath if he happened to be the vote that caused her to lose. I knew a few of the boys who would vote for Valerie because they were secretly in love with her. I didn’t think I could count on any girls being secretly in love with me, but that was a possibility.
All Valerie needed was 15 votes, and I could count six or seven that she definitely already had. And, of course, I was sure she had quite a performance planned for the debates. Put Valerie on stage in front of a bunch of people and she could persuade an Eskimo to put central air conditioning in his igloo.
When I got to the meeting hall, I counted the people. A crowd of 28 includ
ing me and Valerie. This would have to be the event nobody missed.
I sat in front, facing the crowd. Valerie was already there, smiling at all the registered voters. She was dressed as if she was going to church, and looked quite pretty, actually. Jill sat in front with us. She’d been chosen to be the host and moderator for the event.
Valerie showed her “good sportsmanship” by coming over and shaking my hand. She smiled sweetly and said, “Good luck, Mr. Mayor.” She quickly looked around the room to make sure everyone saw this “gracious” gesture, then returned to her seat.
Jill began by welcoming everyone and introducing the participants. Then she asked us both to begin with an opening statement.
Valerie stood up and gave everyone a big smile. There was a lot of applause. She stood behind a music stand in front and began. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I have decided to run for this office not because I don’t respect our current mayor. Our mayor has run this town as best as he can. He has done exactly what he thinks is best for us, and for that, I respect him.” I hoped I wasn’t the only one who could see how phony She was. “But I also think, somewhere along the road, our mayor lost touch with the people. He wants to do what’s best, but he no longer knows what’s best. And I believe I do know. Thank you.”
There was scattered applause, and then everyone looked at me. I was never told how this debate would go, so I hadn’t really prepared an opening speech. I definitely didn’t have anything as polished as the one I had just heard. But I stepped up to the stand.
“I also respect my opponent,” I said, hoping people couldn’t detect how phony I was. “And I respect her right to challenge me for this office. After this is over, if I’m reelected, I’ll make sure regular elections are put into the city charter. But do you really think this town needs a different leader? I have always made my decisions based on what I believe will help the town prosper. If you think I have done that, I’d appreciate your vote.”
Again, there was scattered applause. I looked into the crowd and spotted Nelson. He had told me that he was bringing a new invention—an applause meter—to the debate. A few people were huddled around him, looking at it. They were checking to see if Valerie’s applause was louder than mine. I wondered too.
Jill went ahead with questions. Her first question was how we planned on making the city better if we were elected. Valerie, of course, started in on her “fewer rules” campaign, except she called it “more freedom to do as we choose.”
“Our mayor actually tried to force people to work. His Everybody Works program should’ve been called, ‘Everything Works, But This Program.’” Some laughter. “Of course, yesterday he repealed this law, but then again, he also knew there was an election coming up. How convenient.” I figured she would use that against me. “But let’s be honest, people. The economy is in shambles. Businesses are going under, and it’s not because people don’t want to work. It’s because there are no jobs out there. As your new may or, I will start a program that will introduce new jobs into our community. But I promise that I will never tell you that you have to work or you’ll lose your house.” Some applause. I could sense from the crowd that they liked this idea, and in fact, Valerie made it sound great.
When I got up, I responded to Valerie’s “more freedom” thing and said that even though rules weren’t something we liked, they were still something we needed. I sat down. It was obvious Valerie received more applause after this segment of the debate.
Jill then asked a question about new ideas we might have for the coming year. I decided to take on Max here.
“There are people in this town who seem to be taking advantage of the freedom they do have. I consider that a crime.” I didn’t mention any names, but everyone knew who I was talking about. By now, they had all heard about the merry-go-round incident. I detected a smile from Max in the back. “I believe we should crack down on this stuff before it gets worse and people get hurt.” Little applause.
It was Valerie’s turn, and she stood up confidently and smiled at me as she went to the stand, as if to say, “This is where I lock up the election.”
She began. “I believe this town has a lot of potential. A lot of potential for growth and learning and for just being a place to have fun. But I don’t think our current may or realizes this potential as much as he should. I think we should be more open-minded about who we allow to become citizens of Kidsboro. We can have a different assortment of personalities here and, therefore, become a city of variety and new ideas.” My eyebrows rose. What was she going to suggest?
“For example …” she started, glancing my way to make sure I was listening carefully. She had my full attention. “Luke Antonelli. I believe most of us know him.” Yes, everyone knew him. He was in Rodney Rathbone’s gang, “The Bones of Rath,” and was one of the biggest troublemakers in our school.
“I know for a fact that he would like to become a member of this town. My question is, why shouldn’t he be allowed in?”
I had a few hundred reasons, actually. I wasn’t sure where she was going with this. No one in his right mind would want Luke Antonelli living next door.
She went on, “I believe that Luke has a lot to offer our town. For one thing, his father owns a swimming pool store. Luke has told me that if he were allowed to join us, he would get his father to give us a small, used pool. Now wouldn’t it be nice to have a public pool in our town?”
I looked into the crowd and saw some heads nodding. I couldn’t believe this! She was promising a pool! “There are many others who can offer so much to our town. Jerry Wilmott, for instance.” Jerry Wilmott! He was a three-time convicted shoplifter! She continued, “Jerry’s mother works for the city and can get access to all the equipment and property within the city parks. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to go to the nearby baseball fields and play a game there any time we want—under the lights, even? As a matter of fact, I think Kidsboro could field a pretty good team,” she said with a playful chuckle.
By the time she finished answering the question, Kidsboro had a paintball field, a snow-cone shop, and a recreation center that included a pool, volleyball court, and refreshment stand. I had no idea how she could deliver these things, but the crowd seemed to think that she could. They were drooling faster with every word that came out of her mouth.
By the time my turn came, there was nothing I could’ve said that would even get anyone’s attention, much less change their vote. I pleaded with them not to allow our town to be filled with hoodlums, but they didn’t seem to care. They wanted a pool.
The next day, I went to the meeting hall and cast a vote for myself. I figured it might be the only one I’d get, besides Scott’s.
11
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
TWENTY-EIGHT VOTES IS NOT a lot to count. The polls closed at seven o’clock that night, and at five after seven we were all gathered in the meeting hall to hear the outcome. Alice counted the votes, since She was the highest ranking city employee next to me. Also, she was considered trustworthy by pretty much everyone. She read the little slips of paper and made tally marks in her notebook. After a couple of minutes, she rose and went to the front to make the announcement. Valerie and I sat in the same seats we had sat in for the debates. Alice approached the stand. She cleared her throat, and the hall went immediately silent.
“The winner, by a vote of 25 to 3, is Valerie Swanson.” There was applause and whooping and hollering from some of Valerie’s most loyal fans. Valerie showed very little emotion, however. She smiled and came over to me and shook my hand.
“I always keep my promises, Ryan,” she said before she went to the stand to address her town. Indeed, she had kept her promise. She had promised she would take over the town … and now it was hers.
I was actually a little bit excited by the fact that I got one more vote than I had expected. From whom, I couldn’t guess, but at least somewhere out there I had a fan I didn’t know about.
For the next week, I spent very little time i
n Kidsboro. I cleared out my office the day of the election, but after that I pretty much stayed at home—my real home. Valerie seemed to have the city running pretty smoothly. I heard a rumor that she was going to put Luke Antonelli (and his pool) up for a vote soon, along with a few others.
I did make one trip to town that week. We actually have a church in Kidsboro. It’s not a building, but rather an area next to the creek that runs along the edge of town. I went to real church every week with my mother. When we first came to Odyssey, we never went to church, but then we met Mr. Whittaker and he took us. I didn’t like it too much at first, but over the next two years, I really began to enjoy it. I became a Christian a year after we started going.
The “preacher” of Kidsboro, a 10-year-old, African-American boy named Joey, held a service for anyone who was interested. Joey’s father was the pastor of the liveliest church in Odyssey. The singing in that church could drown out a low-flying aircraft.
I’d only been to a couple of services at the Kidsboro Community Church, and there had never been more than three people in attendance, including the preacher himself. Mr. Whittaker sometimes came to show his support, but I could tell it made Joey nervous to have him there. It would be like me making a political speech with Abraham Lincoln in attendance.
The service was about 15 minutes long. There was always a song, a short sermon, and an offering, but no one ever put anything in the offering plate. Joey was always hopeful, though. He never missed a week, either. He always had something to say.
Mr. Whittaker was already sitting down when I got there. We were the only ones there. Joey was glad to see me. He said he was sorry about the election, and that he would pray for me. Oddly enough, this was kind of nice to hear.
Joey led the three of us in a chorus of “Seek Ye First,” which I knew. Mr. Whittaker knew it too. Joey wanted to try it in a round, but I told him that would be kind of weird since there were only three of us.
The Fight for Kidsboro Page 7