Kemper returns to his seat, smiles as several people in the front clap. A few even cheer. A cold salamander feeling runs down my spine as I see several men at the table clapping. When they finally stop, Travers looks down at his list.
“Council will now hear from Mr. Gene Elliot.”
I automatically come forward at the sound of my father’s name. Down below us, Dad rises from his chair and walks stiffly to the podium. He looks oddly different in his suit and tie: out of place, not like Kemper or the chemical company men. But then he puts both hands on the podium and stands up tall, and I feel a certain change fall over everyone in the room. The people in the seats go still.
My father ain’t even spoken yet, but everyone is paying attention.
Dad begins by thanking council for holding the meeting. Travers smiles tightly. Kemper’s black eyes seem shiny and dark at the same time.
Next Dad looks to the chemical company men. “I appreciate you gentlemen bringing your topographical map. I have lived my whole life along the creek, aside from a few years in Korea. During the war.”
The men narrow their eyes at him.
Next to me, Mr. Halleck says quietly, “That was good.”
“How so?”
“Your father has just reminded everyone of his valor during the war.”
“What’s that got to do with any of this?”
The old man turns his white head, looks down at me. “Nothing. Except this is a battle between your father and Kemper, and Kemper called him selfish. In life and politics, you fight selfishness with selflessness.”
At the podium Dad speaks again to the chemical men. “Yes, I have lived my whole life along the creek, so I know this area well, and your map is as accurate as any as you can find. It also shows a naturally occurring geographic depression, approximately seven miles northwest of the proposed reservoir site. This depression is essentially a big bowl in the earth, wider and longer than the proposed reservoir. And your map shows no homes in it.”
Dad pauses. Council stays quiet.
I know then that Dad isn’t saying anything they don’t know.
Dad goes on, “I make no objection to those who have spoken before about the rate of growth in our town. Our country is growing; our town is growing, and we will need the water. And a bigger reservoir would better serve our businesses and our families.”
Dad looks at the audience. He turns to the council members. Now Dad levels his blue eyes at Kemper.
“So why not build it in this other location?”
Dad puts his hands in his pockets.
“Well, it’s true there are no houses in that other location. At least not yet. But that land is privately owned by a company which has on its board several people who are sitting in this room today. And if the council builds the reservoir where it is currently planning, that other location will become very valuable. It will be beside a beautiful lake. I expect you would see many houses built there then.”
Behind their long table, the council members sit still as stone.
Kemper stares hard at Dad.
“It’s not a question of personal virtue,” says Dad, drawing to a close. “It’s a question of principle. Do people have a right to keep what they have worked and paid for? Should government become a partner in profit to help some people make money by taking things from others? I say no. And so I ask the council to vote against this proposition. Thank you.”
Dad returns to his seat next to Ma. Our people in the back of the room clap and cheer. I clap till my hands sting. But Mr. Halleck stays very still.
At their table, the council members whisper to each other.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“Your father’s rattled them,” Mr. Halleck says. “He’s told the whole world that some people will make a lot of money from this reservoir if it’s built. It was a stellar performance. But it won’t be enough.”
He returns the silver flask to his jacket and begins to tap the floor with his cane.
Mr. Travers reaches for his hammer and raps it against the table several times. The sound is suddenly very frightening.
“At this time, if there are no other persons wishing to testify, the chair would look favorably on a motion to close the hearing and move into voting procedure,” he says.
An electric silence fills the chamber. This is it. Dad’s words were powerful, but I see Kemper sitting down there next to Travers—right there. Green as I am to politics, I know we don’t have a chance.
That’s when Ma raises her hand.
“I’d like to speak on behalf of a group of concerned citizens.”