The Alpha Chronicles (12 page)

Food vendors, balloons, and even a man offering pony rides for the children
bordered the throng. It was almost as if everyone was looking for an excuse to get together and have a celebration.
Now where on earth did someone find helium to inflate balloons?
The deacon wondered
.

The band finished its patriotic refrain, and immediately the master of ceremonies strode to the podium, glancing at his notes in preparation of introducing the next candidate after the applause died down. Leaning toward Nick’s ear, Diana whispered, “This reminds me of the old West and how elections were a big party back then.”

Nick smiled and nodded, whispering back, “You’re right. Hey, but didn’t they do the same thing for hangings?”

Diana rolled her eyes and then returned her attention to the platform.

“Citizens of Alpha, Texas, before I introduce the last candidate of the evening, I feel obliged to say a few words. There isn’t a resident of our town who doesn’t owe this woman a deep debt of gratitude. Were it not for her, every single one of us might be living under the tyrannical rule of outlaws and criminals. Were it not for her, many of us would have perished from lack of food or water. Regardless of the outcome of this monumental election, I believe I speak for everyone present as I express my sincere gratitude to Deacon Diana Brown!”

Thunderous applause and shouted encouragement erupted from the park as every citizen stood and clapped, whistled, and nodded toward the stage. Diana flushed immediately, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of crimson as she sensed Nick standing and clapping beside her. The outburst was so unexpected, Diana could only smile, nod, and mouth the words “Thank you,” as she surveyed the supportive faces of her friends and neighbors.

After what seemed an embarrassingly long time, the speaker continued. “As all of you know, Diana has sacrificed so very much for our town. She has shouldered every burden, made the difficult decisions, and demonstrated sage leadership during these troubling times. She organized our people when disaster left nothing but a stunned, directionless humanity. She united us when our freedom was threatened. Her courage enabled Christians to fight, and her wisdom brought combatants to Christ. I speak purely from the deepest core of my heart when I say, ‘Thank you, Miss Brown. Thank you for all you’ve done.’”

Again, the crowd rose to its feet, shouts of encouragement piercing the din of clapping hands. The man at the podium waited a short period and then quieted the crowd by raising both hands. As the applause began to settle, Nick bent down and whispered, “So much for getting to see a lynching tonight.”

“Without further ado… ladies and gentlemen… may I present the candidate for mayor, Deacon… Diana... Brown!”

Taking short steps on somewhat wobbly legs, Diana managed to stroll across the stage without stumbling. She was somewhat relieved when she reached the lectern, the wooden stand representing a protective shield from the raw emotion
 emanating from the crowd.

Nodding, smiling, and unfolding her prepared remarks, the reserved speaker kept repeating, “Thank you, thank you so much, thank you,” as the ovation continued.

“Citizens of Alpha,” she began. “I have a few, very simple goals should you see fit to elect me as the next mayor of our wonderful town. First and foremost, I want to establish security. History has taught us that without rule of law, nothing will get accomplished and recovery will be stunted. Storekeepers won’t trade if they're being robbed. Farmers won’t plant if the harvest is looted. We have only to look back at our own history of a few months ago to know that fear grinds civilization to a halt. As a society, we cannot better ourselves if we are threatened every single day of our lives.”

Pausing briefly, she waited until the sounds of agreement and support died down before continuing.

“My second priority is to configure our government in a way that enables every citizen of Alpha to become self-sufficient. I will establish adult education that addresses the critical ability to produce food. It is beyond the reach of our government to feed the people. My philosophy will be to train fishermen, not deliver fish.”

Again, the crowd signaled its approval with nodding heads and clapping hands.

“Finally, I want to proclaim our future government’s position regarding assistance. We, as a community, will be measured by how we treat the most desperate of our citizens. We, as a
society
, will be morally graded on the quality of life of the least fortunate of our people, not the most affluent. A focus of my governance will be to enable our churches, private organizations, and charitable individuals to be the first responders for the desperate and downtrodden. I’ll allow no citizen of Alpha to starve. I’ll not deny basic necessities to any law-abiding individual, but I will only deliver those resources as a last resort. My intent is to set our fledgling democracy on a path that enables self-reliance, not dependence or entitlement.”

Diana chanced a quick glance at Nick while waiting for the crowd to settle, her friend flashing a quick thumbs-up signal for support.

“As you all know, there is a practically endless list of projects, tasks, and priorities for our community. Some of these worthy endeavors can only be accomplished with the backing and management of government. Reopening the schools is one such example, the repair and availability of a fire department is another. These civic uses of our limited resources will benefit all of us, and that’s what I want to achieve. If we all pull together, my office will be able to focus on organizing and prioritizing improvements that will ensure all of our lives continue to improve!”

The noise from the crowd grew, Diana stepping back and waving her appreciation. On her way back to Nick’s side, she tried to make eye contact with as many folks as possible all the while again repeating “Thank you,” to the supportive throng.

The presentation part of the agenda complete, Nick and Diana made their way from the stage and began mingling with friends and neighbors. They sampled food, shook hands with dozens of people, and generally enjoyed the spirit flowing through the crowd.

Kevin approached his dad, the surrounding excitement contagious. “Dad, I have never seen anything like this. The enthusias
m here is electric. Everyone seems to approve of what Diana has already done for the community. So why did Diana speak to the crowd like that? She seems to have this election in the bag. I mean, I didn’t think anyone else was even running for the mayor spot anyway.”

“She doesn’t want it to appear like she’s taking it for granted. And she doesn’t just want to run on her history, she wants to unveil her vision for the future.”

“So she can lose?”

“No, I don’t think so. She’s running unopposed. I gu
ess someone could write in another person’s name, but that’s unlikely.”

Kevin was puzzled by his father’s answer, but decided not to pursue it further. Nick looked down at his son’s confused expression and said, “Don’t worry about it, buddy. I’ve been studying elections since I was your age, and I never have figured it all out. Politics is a
really weird business. You and I will stick to honor, integrity, and living a simple, happy life. We can leave all the complex stuff to other people.”

Brightening, Kevin asked, “That sounds like a plan, Dad. Hey, how about we work in some trigger time once I’m healed?”

Nick tousled his son’s hair, “
That’s
my boy.”

A line of people snaked down the courthouse steps, the generally upbeat crowd utilizing the time to gossip, solicit for favorite candidates, and exchange a few words with neighbors. The ballots were much
less complicated than those of recent years, consisting of a single sheet of paper copied on one of the machines in the former clerk’s office.

Someone had taken a series of shoeboxes and cut slits in the top. Each voter was issued a pencil, had his or her name checked from a list, and then was escorted to the “booth,” which was essentially sheets of dark blue plastic hanging from the ceiling to provide privacy. Once the voter’s selections were made, the secret ballot was folded, deposited into one of the boxes, and the voter’s hand was stamped.

The election process didn’t have anything to do with the queue inching along. That minor inconvenience was prompted by the friendly banter and casual conversation taking place at the registration tables. Clearly, this election was the social event of the season in Alpha, fostering a sense of community that had not been on the agenda in years. It seemed every voter knew every election worker and wanted to catch up on the latest about kids, family, and local news. And for the few new settlers in the village, there might as well have been a welcome wagon pulled in front of the courthouse. The scene looked more like a block party than a polling station.

The rules had stated that anyone in line by 12 noon could vote. Nick looked at his watch and realized it was quickly approaching that time. He motioned for one of his security helpers to follow and then assigned the man to close the end of the line.

“What should I do if any stragglers show up?”

After thinking about it for a bit, Nick answered. “Look at your watch, smile, and say, ‘I think my watch is fast. Go ahead and get in line.’”

“So there really is no deadline?”

“Nope. I don’t want a single person to miss a chance to vote.
It’s the way we do things. I’ll stop back by around 1:00 and see if folks are still drifting in.”

“Bring me back a
jar of water on your way, if you think of it. It’s starting to warm up.”

Terri fumbled with the lace of Bishop’s boot and lost her balance. Bishop’s right hand shot out and grabbed her shirt, gently tugging until she had steadied herself.

“Aren’t we just the pair,” she giggled, returning to her task. “Between my baby-tummy and your bum side, we could be the stars of a situational comedy. Better alert Hollywood.”

Bishop smiled, “We are pitiful. Thank goodness you’re not really
,
really
pregnant yet, or we would really be in trouble.”

The boot tied and Bishop’s pullover shirt adjusted, the couple l
eft the hospital room and ventured outside. It was Bishop’s fourth day of walking, the confines of his floor and then the complete hospital building having already been explored on previous tours.

“Where to?” Terri inquired, hoping to see something different today.

“Let’s head for the parade ground over by our old quarters. That’s a nice grassy area.”

“That’s a great idea. I like the softer ground – it’s easier on my back.”

As the couple meandered along, Bishop looked down at his bride and commented, “Terri, I woke up married to a different woman. I want you to know I love this new gal just as much as the old one.”

Frowning, Terri asked, “What do you mean by a different woman? Let me get my rifle before you answer that, mister.”

“Seriously, you’ve changed. Before I was shot, you could care less about politics, leadership, and government. Now, that’s all you want to talk about. I can’t remember your even being interested in the evening news before. Now all our conversations inevitably take a political turn.”

To emphasize his point, Bishop pointed to the book Terri carried in her hand. “’The Rise and
Fall of Modern Empires.’ Really? That’s some heavy stuff.”

Waving him off, she dismissed his observation, “Oh, the Colonel brought that over for me. He and I talked a few times while you were off in la-la-land. He’s quite the fascinating man.”