A Holland Kiss

by Dawn Michelle

  “What are you talking about? What behavior?” I asked, bewildered. As if being attacked by a chipmunk was a thrill I’d been seeking.

  “First, I have parents complaining about you going to the Shoe on a school night, now this? Really Lily I expected better from you.” Principal Kyser loosened his tie and looked worn.

  Ouch! My finger didn’t hurt nearly as bad as this. “Is there a law against my going to the Shoe on a school night?” I asked, but by the look on his face, there is in fact such a law.

  “Listen Lily I’ve known you all your life. You grew up in Holland. You know better. Parents don’t want to see their children’s teachers in a bar. Ever!” His voice was not quite a yell, but close. “Not to mention the fact that two students were injured because of you and your little stunt.”

  Huh? How was a cat wandering into the school yard, subsequently nabbing a chipmunk, albeit offspring of Satan, my fault? “I’m sorry. I was only trying to help. The kids were upset when they saw the chipmunk attacked.”

  “Yes well they’re even more upset now. Parents are sure to call about this. They expect their children to be safe while at school.” He emphasized, as if I didn’t already know this. “My phone will be ringing off the hook.”

  “I’m sorry.” That was all I really could say. I couldn’t say what I was really thinking, which was that I was only trying to help. But I think I already mentioned that.

  “Go home. Mrs. Bass will cover your class the rest of the day. Take this time to think about your future.”

  My future?! Holy cow! He acted like he might actually fire me. Could he do that? Over a chipmunk?

  Before I left his office though, he added. “Have that finger looked at too, just in case. And good luck tonight.” He didn’t smile, but I felt somewhat better about his overall attitude toward me.

  ~~~~~

  I can’t believe I got sent home. And that someone had called to complain about me at the Shoe. Honestly this isn’t 1870, when female teachers weren’t allowed to have a life outside school.

  A student once asked me where I slept. For a moment I wasn’t sure what they were getting at until they continued with “Where’s your bed? Do you sleep in the teacher’s lounge?”

  Oh the innocence of childhood. It makes sense if you think about it. A lounge could be for sleeping. Maybe they envisioned me rolling out a cot or sleeping under my desk. I’d use a sheet and make a tent, just like camping in the living room as a kid.

  School hours aren’t from eight to three for teachers. Most days I don’t go home until 5:00, just like people with other jobs. During conference time, it was usually close to 10:00 before I get home. There were days when I truly did feel like I lived at school.

  Besides my life is far too busy to sleep at school, I do plenty of things? Don’t I?

  Riding my bike around town, since I had the time now, I had to wonder. Do I have a life outside education?

  Being a goal setter by nature, I’d mapped out the last seven years of my life. After high school there was college, followed by getting a job. And then getting my Master’s degree. I gotta say now, I was lucky to get a teaching position my first year out. That rarely happens in smaller communities.

  You have to work your way up. Pay your dues. Substitute teach, which sucks. The kids know subs don’t have any real authority and the pay sucks even more. Volunteer for everything under the sun. Be at every, and I do mean every, school related event, coach volleyball, when you never played it yourself and maybe throw in a little luck for good measure.

  All of this while kissing up to the Principal and any school board members.

  I knew when I got my job, I would retire from Holland Elementary. Maybe not though.

  Geez! Thinking about it now, it sounds kind of pathetic. My entire world is wrapped up in Holland. I’ve done very little to branch out.

  Is that a bad thing? Am I a failure because I haven’t left Holland or Dubois County? Are the people I graduated high school with, the ones who moved away, are they happier?

  The list of pros and cons I’d been making the night of the storm was getting more cons. Maybe I should take Dad up on his offer and move to Indy. I could get to know him better and have a change of scenery. That would have to wait, though, until Dutch and Tulip were safe. Maybe then I’ll go.

  ~~~~~

  By 5:00 that evening, I was back at school. Okay, so maybe I do live here. I assume I’m allowed back, technically school is out.

  Holland Elementary is the glue that holds the town together. In the ’70s, Holland lost its high school to consolidation. The Holland Dutchmen were no more and the Huntingburg Hunters ceased to exist as well. Together the two schools formed Southridge High School, where I’d graduated from.

  After that, Holland retained its elementary school and the students were bussed the 15-minute drive to Huntingburg for middle and high school. When they tore down the high school, we got a brand new elementary school. The high school’s original stone entrance gates still stand. I thought that was a nice touch.

  The old and the new. Tradition and progress.

  Exactly the place to showcase Dutch and Tulip.

  Kelly was with me and Mom would be here shortly. Wearing my nicest black slacks and flats, I look very respectable in my “Save Dutch and Tulip” t-shirt.

  Kelly had made signs and was going to pass them out as people entered, while I stood at the door passing out informative pamphlets I’d made on the computer. Thank you Microsoft Word.

  “You sure you’ve got everything ready?” Kelly asked. She and I were in the gym setting up the screen for my presentation. The janitor, Mr. Schon, was giving the gym floor a final pass with a dry mop. The gym was shining, the red painted bleachers freshly dusted.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Looking at my watch, I realized I had too much time on my hands before the meeting started. I was feeling anxious. Suddenly the idea of speaking in front of the town made me nervous. Who am I kidding? I’m more afraid that no one will shop up.

  Spring is a busy time of year for farmers and their families. Depending on the weather, they are planting or getting ready to plant. I should have thought about that sooner dang it! High school baseball, softball and little league might also interfere with people attending. In Dubois County, school sports schedules rule. Period.

  It’s one of the things I love about this area. And the smell of manure. No matter what, people support their school. Whether it’s attending the high school’s plays or the elementary schools fifth grade basketball games. Even when families no longer have children in school, they still come.

  I’d never stopped supporting Southridge and never would. I’m a homer.

  Kelly rolled her eyes at me, but gave me a reassuring smile, when I went over my speech again. She’d heard it twenty times already. “You’ll do great. You always do.” Kelly’s a nurse, so it’s a job requirement for her to positive. But I needed the pep talk.

  “What are you gonna do after tonight? Between now and the vote? I know Holland’s not that big, but are you really gonna go door to door?” I’d mentioned doing that, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

  “We’ll see how it goes tonight. I guess it depends on how many people show up, but yeah if I have to I will.”

  “If it comes to that, which I doubt, I’ll help. I may not be from Holland, but then again this isn’t just about Holland,” Kelly said

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Dutch and Tulip might belong to Holland, but they’re good for the whole area.” Wow. Kelly was right. I hadn’t thought of it like that.

  “You’re right! I need to think bigger. Get other towns involved. What’s good for Holland will be good for them too. If we can get people to come and see Dutch and Tulip then surely other communities will benefit too!” This was good. Glen didn’t know what he had coming.

  Saving Dutch and Tulip, like all my plans, I intended to achieve. But the thought of $2 million dollars had floated around in my he
ad all week. That and visions of Dutch and Tulip setting sail for the real Holland.

  Of me getting married in a church, instead of outside at the park. I know it’s wrong, but the thought made me sad.

  At 6:30 on the dot, Glen began the meeting. By the look on his face, he was surprised by the number of people in attendance. The gym holds around one thousand. Okay, so there weren’t that many people, but there was at least 50. I felt this was a good turnout.

  Behind an old podium, Glen opened the meeting. “We all know why we’re here tonight.” Ruth was wearing her t-shirt, holding a sign, so the reason was pretty clear.

  The doctor and dentist were in the crowd with their families. Several teachers, including Principal Kyser, and Bill and Tootsie. All the Heimerschmitts, sans Britni, and several members from my church.

  Since Glen and I had flipped a coin, he got to go first. Which was fine by me. It’s always a good thing when giving a presentation to go last. Or at least I told myself that. This way the last thoughts in people’s heads would be the ones that I put there.

  “As you know, Dutch and Tulip have been an important part of our community.” Aha! He did know their names. “Yet they are no longer serving Holland’s needs. I propose we sell them and use the money for other endeavors.” There was a smattering of chatter, but otherwise the crowd was still waiting.

  “A company has approached us and made an offer to buy the statues for a price of $2 million dollars.” Now the crowd was in awe. Their stunned silence scared me. I could imagine all the things going through their heads. All the things Holland could do with that much money.

  Shit! My presentation had a lot to live up to.

  Glen didn’t have a Power Point or handouts. He hadn’t even bothered to put up flyers. I guess he didn’t have to. He had two million good reasons, which I did not. Not even bothering to go into specifics, Glen finished with a smile and politely stepped away, leaving the podium to me.

  There was a short applause, while I took the stage, projector clicker in hand. I mustered my courage and faced the crowd. Since I’d stood handing out, well, handouts, I took my newfound courage and jumped right in.

  “Thank you Glen. Not only for your presentation, but also for your years of service to Holland.” So I was sucking up. “If I could direct your attention to the screen, I’ll tell you why Holland cannot do without Dutch and Tulip.”

  For the next 20 minutes, I didn’t want to be too long winded and lose their attention, I gave the mother of all presentations. Starting with the history of Dutch and Tulip. I chronicled their lives through pictures of couples marrying under them and children playing. A photo of Governor Whitcomb, when he’d visited the area, gracing Holland with his presence.

  I ended with a flourish, by outlining how Dutch and Tulip could once again be our saving grace. “In the past few years we’ve taken Dutch and Tulip for granted. It was wrong of us to neglect them. But now we have the chance to correct this. We need to look at this as an opportunity. This is our chance to put Holland back on the map.” The crowd agreed with me, the applause was much more enthusiastic.

  Taking the podium again, Glen informed the crowd that next week voting would take place at the Methodist church. Just like on real election days, the polls would be open between the hours of six and six. Later that same evening the votes would be tabulated and posted at Town Hall.

  The future of Dutch and Tulip would be posted, as if they were nothing more than a couple of statues.

  The future of my wedding hung in the balance.

  Chapter 7

  “Are those bells ringing?” Tulip asked.

  “I believe so, flower,” Dutch answered. But what did that mean? Every day the church bells rang at noon and at six o’clock on Sunday evenings. It was neither. Had someone died? Dutch hoped it wasn’t them.

  “Maybe someone’s getting married? Oh Dutch, how exciting!” There was nothing Tulip loved more than a wedding or when someone came to Holland Kiss under them. “You don’t think it’s Lily, do you?” Now Tulip was disappointed. Lily was supposed to marry under them!

  “No. She wouldn’t get married without us.”

  “What’s going on then?” Tulip knew the vote was tonight. “Did we win the popularity contest?”

  “I think we must have won our vote.” Dutch prayed that was it. What if the bells were tolling bad news? Better safe than sorry. “We should kiss in celebration,” he said. Dutch only hoped he wasn’t kissing his love goodbye and that one day he could celebrate with his own Holland Kiss.

  “There’ll be time for that later. Now be quiet. I want to see if I can hear anything.”

  ~~~~~

  The wedding is back on!

  Yeah, yeah. I have no groom, but still I did it. Actually, the people of Holland did it. The vote was over and Dutch and Tulip had won.

  It wasn’t even close. Here I’d worried myself sick and for nothing. The final vote was 216 to 39. I wanted to find those 39 people and soap their windows and TP their trees. Kelly would help. She’s very sneaky, although she’d complain about the impact on the environment.

  But those people didn’t matter now. It was a landslide and I felt victorious.

  Glen was very nice about the whole thing. Shaking my hand, “Well, it looks like the people have spoken. What are your plans now?” Glen seemed genuinely interested.

  Crap! Okay so I hadn’t really thought about that yet. I was taking this one step at a time. But now that I’d won, I had to come up with the money. And I had to do it by next April if Dutch and Tulip were going to be ready for Holland’s 150th anniversary on the Fourth of July.

  The people of Holland had given up two million big ones. I couldn’t let them down now.

  “Fundraising.” I said. Lame, I know, but it was the best I could come up with at the moment.

  “Let me know what I can do to help.” Glen offered. Now I feel bad for having thought he was an asshole. Can I retract that earlier statement? I hope so. Maybe he really did just have Holland’s best interests at heart.

  “We should form a committee. See to the fundraising, make plans, that sort of thing.” Glen continued shaking my hand and smiling. My new best friend.

  “You’re right. Thanks Glen.” I said. Trying to extract my hand.

  “I’m sure all the council members will want to be involved and the Heimerschmitts.” The name recognition would be good for our efforts. “And of course you Lily.” Even though he tacked me on as an afterthought, Glen was trying.

  “Here sweetie. Take this to start your money drive. Who do I make the check out to?” Mrs. Deiser said, handing me a check for $5,000.

  Whoa! Of course Mrs. Deiser would want everyone to know she’d made the first donation and that it was a doozy. But I didn’t care. I was so happy that I’ll have it noted on my tombstone when I die.

  Okay. This is good. Raising the remaining money will be a piece of cake at this rate.

  “Oh my God! Lily this is awesome! You did it! You really did it!” Kelly, bless her heart, had taken off tonight so that she could be with me when the results came in. In case I needed a shoulder to cry on. I didn’t think Jay would lend me his.

  What seemed like the entire town was at Town Hall, many had made their way to the Shoe, a small crowd was gathered on Haupt, blocking traffic, but no one cared. There was a festive feeling in the air. The Lutheran Church bells were ringing in celebration.

  Junior Oster, our town marshal, joined in the celebration. Holland didn’t have need for a full time cop, so Junior, a retired state policeman, stepped up and acted as our marshal. In reality, he drove around town in the evenings rarely writing tickets, but he did give the occasional verbal warning. The lights on his patrol car were on and he’d sounded the siren several times, to the joy of the kids. Currently he had a couple of boys in handcuffs, they were eating it up.

  “Congratulations Lily.” Jonas was there, picking me up and swinging me around like a kid.

  Laughing, I felt amazing, plus
it always feels good to be swung around. “I know! Can you believe it! I feel so good.” Better than good. Great.

  “You should. Let’s go get a drink and celebrate,” Jonas said.

  Principal Kyser and his wife were talking to Ruth, she smiled at me and waved. Principal Kyser nodded his head making it clear he was keeping an eye on me.

  “I better not. Maybe some other time.” Like when my Principal didn’t hate me perhaps. “You know I’ll be calling on you to help now.” Jonas wouldn’t be given a choice in the matter. He was going to help me whether he wanted to or not.

  “Whatcha gonna do for me in return?” His smile was pure mischief and I was beginning to worry about that twitch in his eye.

  “What’s who gonna do?” Jay had joined the celebration, but he wasn’t looking very happy.

  “I was just telling Jonas that I’ll need his help. I was thinking we need one of those thermometer-looking things to show how much money we’ve raised.” Using my hands, I demonstrated the gauge’s size, but I knew they understood what I wanted.

  “I’m better at that sort of thing. I’ll do it.” Jay offered.

  “We should put in front of the windmill. That way people can check on our progress.” With Mrs. Deiser’s donation, we had a healthy start already.

  “How about I make in the shape of a windmill? Big, maybe 10 or 12 feet tall.” Jay looked to Jonas again.

  “Awesome. When can you have it done? If you drop it by my house, I’ll paint it.” Actually, Kelly would be painting it. I’ll mention it to her later.

  “I’ll get started on it tomorrow.” Jay looked from Jonas to me like he was trying to figure something out.

  Maybe he was trying to figure out how to get out of his relationship with Britni. He’d seen the light of day, thinking that he and I should be together. Not him and stupid Britni. Who spells their name like that anyway? Britney was a perfectly acceptable spelling or maybe Brittney. This spelling suited her though. It was just different enough to be cute.

  I spotted her then, much to my dismay. Dressed in tight jeans, with an even tighter shirt, she should have looked like a floozy. Instead she looked incredible. I could never pull that off. She was holding her son Seth’s hand, smiling, deep in conversation with Jay’s parents.