The intensity of the silence that followed was heightened by the slight fluttering of the leaves in the trees. Dana was tense. She liked Mr Hampden, although he often seemed stern, and some kids held him in awe. He had always seemed kindly to her as she grew up. Somehow, tonight he seemed cold, almost as an enemy.
The silence was finally broken by George Simpson. “Dana, if I may, I think I can set our friend’s mind at rest on his first point.”
He turned so that he was able to alternately face Dana and Dwayne Hampden simply by turning his head slightly. “Dana said in her opening remarks that Mr Hennigan—to use her words—has ‘really been wonderful’. I can confirm that. As you know, Dwayne, from our previous work related to the brewery, I look after Mr Hennigan’s legal interests. And as Dana and Tony may well have told you, I took them to meet Mr Hennigan. A few days after the visit, he asked me to work with his accountants to begin the necessary paperwork to set up a trust fund for the purpose of providing a continuing source of funds for the long-term operation of the proposed centre. To use his words, this would be to ‘preserve something of our heritage, to protect the well-being and nurturing of our young people, our future.’”
He paused to let those words sink in.
“I should explain,” he continued, “for the benefit of many of you, that Mr Hennigan, the owner of the brewery site, is a very wealthy man, and has no surviving family. It is his hope that your community will accept this proposal; it will please him immensely. I should also note that Mr Hennigan is now almost ninety-six years of age, but very alert and clear in his decisions. Separate from the trust fund, he will pay for the cost of all the materials that will be required to bring the buildings up to current standards, if you in the community will accept the tasks of providing the labour. And I am very gratified that Mr Ferruccio, Pino, with whom I have already had the pleasure of working, and Mr DeLaunais have volunteered their valuable services.”
He turned to Dana. “Thank you, Dana.”
Dana scanned the faces; who could follow that? When Mr Simpson had told her yesterday about the trust fund, she was overwhelmed, both by the generosity of Mr Hennigan and by the fact that this issue of money had been one of the weakest spots in her idea.
There was a rustle over to the right, not far from Mr Simpson. Jane Stennings was coming to her feet. Jane was one of her ‘allies’; Dana and Tony had had a great visit with Jane and her husband Graham.
“Dana, if I could take up a few moments?”
Dana held out her hand, palm up, indicating the ‘floor’ was Jane’s.
“Let me introduce myself first,” Jane began. “I’m Jane Stennings, I live at number six in the Mews. I’m a Police Officer with the city. On a daily basis, I’m confronted with situations involving young people in trouble, whether it be alcohol, drugs, prostitution, theft, assault, and so on. And I see common threads running through many of these cases. One of them is a lack of direction, a lack of focus, no aim in life. And this can have many root causes, such as a broken family, an unloved childhood, low esteem, difficulties in learning, lack of challenge, lack of recognition. Young people in such a state can become the targets of more serious crime, where they get into trouble big-time, or may even become the victims of crime.
“From what I’ve seen and heard from Dana, and Tony, what is being discussed here tonight is one of the best ways of counteracting youth delinquency—a good organized program, a good assembly place, designed by young people for young people. I’ve discussed this proposed centre with my inspector, and he agrees with me. If it goes ahead, he’s authorized me to take on, as part of my regular duties, the nurturing of this youth centre. I’ll be happy to do so, and I’ll say here too, I’m willing to volunteer my own time in whatever way I can help.”
Jane sat down. Dana saw Graham take his wife’s hand, as a light buzz of talk flitted across the gathering.
“Thank you, Jane,” said Dana, still not used to being on first name terms.
Jane smiled back at her.
The sound of a throat-clearing drew Dana’s attention over to the left at the back. In the shadows, she recognized the shape rising to stand. “Yes, Mr Donnelly,” she said.
“I just have one concern in all this,” he began in a wavering voice. “My wife and I have lived here since the beginning. The Gardens has always been a quiet place, until very recently when all the new houses have sprung up—not that I want to leave people here with the impression that we’re against newcomers—but it’s just that more people make the place noisier and more crowded. Edith and I chose our house in this street all those years ago just because it was quiet.”
He paused to cough and clear his throat. Dana remembered that when she had visited the Donnellys’ house, Mr Donnelly seemed to be continually clearing his throat.
“Now, we chose our house at the end of the Gardens so that we only had neighbours on one side. And we’ve been fortunate, I can say, in having such good neighbours as Dwayne and Elizabeth Hampden. I’ll get to the point—but, young lady, I do want to say before I get there that I do admire your efforts. Now, the thing that Edith and I are concerned about is the cars that young folk seem to be able to buy these days—we couldn’t afford such things when we were young—but where are they going to leave their cars when they come to this centre of yours? Eh? That’s my concern. I don’t want rambunctious kids running all over my front yard and parking their cars in front of my house—because it’s the closest house to your centre. Edith and I are both getting on in years, and we don’t stay up late, so there’s no way we’re going to put up with noise and car doors slamming half the night …”
He stopped to clear his throat again. This time it took longer. Dana was itching to get her response out, but she felt sorry for him; he must have something wrong with him to be coughing and clearing his throat like that, she thought.
“So,” he continued, “have you given that any thought?”
He sat down. Dana took a couple of breaths. “Mr Donnelly, this centre is first of all intended for the local kids—from the Gardens and the Mews. They can walk, they don’t need to drive cars. And not many have cars—in fact, nobody that I can think of has a car right now, among the young people. So I don’t really see it being a really big problem. But the other day, when Mr Simpson and Tony and I were sketching out some plans, we did include a parking area that would turn off Millerby Lane, next to Dino’s Auto-Body. Actually, we planned that that would be the way into the centre, so there’d be as little effect on the Gardens as possible. Does that answer your question?”
Mr Donnelly stood up again, clearing his throat. “Thank you.” As he sat back down, somebody—Dana couldn’t make out who—patted Mr Donnelly on the shoulder.
A woman was now standing, over by the big tree in the back right-hand corner.
Dana looked hard, and recognized her as one of the more difficult ones from the Mews. “Yes?”
“I’m Connie Weston. It’s sending the wrong message to our children to have an old brewery turned into a youth centre. It’ll always be thought of as a brewery. It’s not going to help reduce the death toll on our roads. I wouldn’t want my two little ones going to play in a brewery. Put up a new building on the site, but not an old brewery, no way. I am definitely against your idea, and I expect there’s a lot of people here that think the same way.”
Dana felt hurt. This woman was aggressive, as she had been during the visit to her house. Dana realized the time had come to open the wound she knew had been so hard on her family and on the Ferruccios.
She was collecting her thoughts and was about speak, when suddenly she realized her mother was standing. Dana motioned to her mother to speak.
“I’m Caroline Munro, Dana’s mother. Ten months ago, two families in this community suffered a tragic loss …” Caroline was struggling, her voice was breaking up; Dana watched as her father took her mother’s hand and steadied her.
Caroline continued, with tears streaming down her face, “Two famili
es lost young sons—Dana and Tony both lost brothers—because of alcohol and a lack of organized, safe activities. Two families are changed forever …” Caroline choked back a sob. “I am proud of my daughter. She alone thought this through, and came up with her idea. She is thinking ahead, to making this new centre tell the whole story, the good and the bad. Yes, it can be a positive factor in our community, if we make it so. And I would say to you, Mrs Weston, that if you make it a positive learning experience for your young children, the new centre will be good for them, too.”
Connie Weston, who had remained standing while Caroline spoke, sat down abruptly.
Dana watched her mother sit down and bury her head in her father’s shoulder. People around tried to console her.
Dana’s heart went out to her mother and father. It had been so hard for them. Dana had realized long ago that Bryce’s death had almost split them apart. Her father had become so reclusive for months, and her mother had lost herself in her school work.
Dana felt proud of her mother; on reflection, she doubted she could have handled the situation brought about by Connie Weston’s remarks.
But the meeting must go on. Dana looked around. A youngish man was now standing. She turned to face him, recognizing another ally.
“I’m Mike Carson, I live in the Mews. I’d like to support this idea of a youth centre. I think it’s an excellent idea, and I’m volunteering my services right here and now. I’ve worked with young people for a number of years in the Scouting movement, from Cub age to late teens and young adults. And, because she asked me to, I’d like to speak on behalf of my friend here, Kelly McDowell.” He jestingly put his hand on the top of the head of the woman sitting next to him. “Kelly has done the same sort of things with the Girl Guides plus she has some other skills that would be useful. So she’s volunteering as well.” Kelly and Mike exchanged grins.
Mike was still standing. There’s more? wondered Dana.
“Now,” continued Mike, “if I could touch on another issue that somebody raised earlier, I think we have sitting here tonight the ideal man to run this centre. He has wide experience in working with youth, he’s a top-rate administrator, he has excellent credentials, and I feel sure that if we asked him, he would jump at the opportunity …”
Mike had stopped. Another light, questioning buzz wafted around the yard. Who’s he talking about? Dana didn’t quite know how to handle this one. She watched and waited.
She saw Mike nodding his head and catching Mr Adkins’ eye, then Mr Adkins shaking his head firmly, and Mike nodding his head again very emphatically.
Mike spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, he’s being very modest, but I am, of course, referring to Dave Adkins. I believe he’s just the man for the job. He’s held a senior position in the Region’s Scouting movement, which involved both program and administration, and, as I said before, he’s had a working career as an administrator.”
Mike sat down. Dave Adkins remained in his seat, clearly embarrassed. Dana did, however, know that he was a strong ally.
“I really don’t know what to say in response to that,” Mr Adkins began. Then, he stood up. “First off, somebody would have to draw up a job description. I’d have to think about it. In any case, there may be others who could do the job better than I could. And, anyway, whose say is it? That needs to be defined. But anyhow, putting that aside, I do want to say that I endorse Dana’s idea wholeheartedly. It’s an excellent initiative, and I think we as a community would benefit greatly from it in the years to come. What we should realize is that we have the opportunity here to create a place not just for the young, but for the young-at-heart too—and I would hope that includes all of us.”
“Thank you, Mr Adkins.” As her eyes moved from Dave Adkins, she noticed another man standing. “Yes, Mr Benson.”
“I want to speak on behalf of the residents in this community who do not have children, at least not here. This idea of yours puts great demands on the whole community, and there are some of us that don’t appreciate being put upon. We have no need of a youth centre; we have our own adult interests and activities. And we don’t intend to be ‘voluntold’ what to do with our time. In short, I and others are against the idea.”
Dana remembered their visit with the Bensons. Keith Benson was a nasty piece of work, it seemed. She and Tony were glad to be out that house.
However, tonight she had to respond to his remarks. She took a deep breath. “Mr Benson, no one has told you or anyone else here that you ‘must’ do anything. Any involvement is entirely voluntary, and as you can see, a great deal of voluntary help has already been offered.” She paused, thinking fast. “And if I could use a term that Mr Adkins just used, which I really like, because it greatly broadens the concept, this can be a centre for the ‘young-at-heart’, a place that can benefit everyone, whether or not they have children.”
Dana wondered how long this meeting should go on. At some point, she had to bring it to a conclusion, a conclusion that cleared the way forward, she hoped. How to proceed right now?
Fortunately, someone solved that one for her.
“May I suggest,” Mr Stacey, Fiona’s dad and a Carleton University professor, was standing, “that we take a short break, ten minutes say. I think enough new bits of information have come out so far tonight. It might help if people can discuss among themselves for a few moments.”
There was a general bustle and buzz. Clearly that was the thing to do.
“Okay,” Dana shouted above the noise, “let’s start again at eight-fifteen.”
It was dusk by now. Mr Johnson had had the foresight to rig up a few lights. He moved over to the house to plug the cable into the power outlet. The lights, some white, some green, some red, lent a festive air to the gathering.
Dana turned as Mr Simpson came up the steps onto the deck.
He smiled at Dana and Tony. “You’re doing a grand job, guys. I sense that there are more positives than negatives, but we need to be sure that there’ll be enough positives at the hearing on Tuesday.”
“Yeah,” replied Dana. “I know, but how can we guarantee that?”
“We can’t. But I suggest we work on the people who have expressed concerns. If they’ve felt strongly enough to stand up here and voice them, they are serious. But I think they—”
Mr Simpson turned, as Dwayne Hampden parted from a cluster of people and came up the steps. He held out his hand to Mr Simpson. “Good to see you again, George,” he said.
“Good evening, Dwayne. Dana, Tony, and I were just discussing how we might proceed.”
Mr Hampden addressed Dana. “Dana, I’m impressed. You and your team have really done a good job. I came to this meeting in a very negative frame of mind—I just could not see how your proposal could really work. I intended to try to convince the community to pan it. But I want you to know, after what I’ve seen and learned this evening, I’ve no reason to hold you back. In other words, I will support you, and if there’s any way I can help, I will.” He reached out and lightly grasped Dana’s upper arm; Dana interpreted it as an ‘I’m with you’ action.
“That’s really wonderful, Mr Hampden,” she exclaimed, a broad smile spreading over her face as she looked first at Simpson and then Tony. “That’s great.”
“Thanks, Dwayne.” Mr Simpson was smiling too. “That’s just what we wanted to hear. Now, there is something you could do right now to help us.”
“Go ahead.”
“Dwayne, when this break’s over, would you let the whole gathering know what you’ve just said to us?”
“No problem.”
“Thanks, Mr Hampden.” Dana felt elated. She knew that Mr Hampden was well respected in the community, and if he was an ally, that counted for a lot.
“Shall we get back to business then?” Mr Simpson was moving toward the steps.
Dana raised her voice as she faced the several clusters of people. “Can we start again, please?” Her voice only caught the attention of the nearest clusters.
/> Suddenly, a piercing whistle cut the air by her side. She turned to see Tony grinning at her.
“Well, it’s working, look.”
She pushed him, playfully.
Order having been restored, Dana asked for further comments or questions. For a few moments there was an awkward silence.
Then, Dwayne Hampden stood up. He had positioned himself so that he could address the whole gathering. “When I came here this evening, I must say I was really negative about this project. But thanks to our benefactor, Mr Hennigan, the financial issues have been resolved now. And I’m very pleasantly surprised—in fact, I am very impressed—at the generosity of the people who have volunteered their help, and significant help it is, too. I have no reason to oppose the project now, and I’ll go further than that to say I will help Dana and her team however I can.”
Dwayne paused momentarily. “And I urge you all to support the application for re-zoning and for approval to proceed, next Tuesday at City Hall.”
“Thank you, Mr Hampden. Are there any others who want to speak?” Dana watched Graham stand up.
“I’m Graham Stennings. I live in the Mews with my wife Jane here. I’m in the Army. I—er—don’t have any construction skills to offer, Dana, but I do have much work experience in writing texts and documents. I would like to offer to work with Mr Hennigan and others to write the history of this place, particularly of the brewery itself—it’s part of our heritage, as Mr Simpson said earlier—and to help to put into perspective a warning of the dangers of alcohol.”
“Thanks very much, Graham.”
Dana had just realized that the woman next to Mr Carson, who had introduced her as Kelly McDowell, was the same woman she and Tony had seen with Mr Adkins that night in May down along the old railroad trail.
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