'The board's talking about letting it take over the district!'
'It?' he said, though he knew exactly what she meant.
'The Store!' She opened the refrigerator, grabbed a Diet Coke, popped open the tab, and took a long drink. 'Elections are coming up, and they're supporting this tax cut, which'll gut the district, and in order to save money they're thinking of contracting out not only transportation and food services but clerical and teaching positions as well. The Store, of course, has graciously offered to provide funding for those services, no strings attached.'
His jaw tightened. 'How's it flying with the troops?'
'It's being presented as the only feasible option. It's a done deal.'
'Goddamn it. Park maintenance . . . street maintenance . . . fire . . .
police . . . schools. The Store owns this town.' He shook his head. 'That's it.
I'm running for council.'
Ginny's heart rate suddenly accelerated. 'No,' she said. 'Don't run. Let Ben run. Or Street.'
'Why?'
'I'm afraid.'
He was silent, looking at her, and she realized that he was afraid, too.
'We can't let ourselves be intimidated,' he said quietly.
She put her Diet Coke down on the counter, moved next to him, and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. 'I'm getting so tired of this,' she said.
'Who isn't?'
'There just doesn't seem to be anything we can do.'
'Maybe there isn't,' he admitted. 'But that doesn't mean we stop trying.'
'We can't let them take control of education.'
'We won't,' he said.
It felt good, standing here like this, hugging him. It felt reassuring, and she reached behind him and turned down the burner on the stove so his dinner wouldn't burn.
They were still hugging when the girls returned home.
TWENTY-THREE
1
SUPPORT THE STORE
VOTE LAMB-KEYES-WALKER
Ben tore the sign down from the telephone pole, ripping it in half before dumping it in the trash can in front of Street's shop.
That's what it came down to this time: pro-Store candidates and anti-Store candidates.
And most people seemed to be siding with The Store.
There'd been a sea change in American politics since the first time he'd run for council in the late seventies. He'd lost then, by a large margin, and that had kept him away ever since, but he'd lost to a man he respected, a man who had turned out to be a decent councilman and later a decent mayor.
Back then, people admired the citizen activist, were in favor of individuals getting involved with causes they believed in. But these days, that was looked upon with disfavor, considered an example of 'special interest' politics, and the respect went to those who talked finances, not ideas.
Which was why The Store's candidates would probably win.
He couldn't understand why the prospect of having The Store control Juniper's government didn't scare people more. Sure, the corporation's big bankroll and the promises to cut taxes and fund programs with private rather than public funds sounded inviting on the surface, but even a casual examination of that revealed its flaws. Or at least it did to him. Because whoever controlled the money controlled the power. If services were financed with public funds, specific fees allocated for specific projects and decided upon by the people, the people were in charge. As they should be. But if The Store paid the bills, The Store got to call the shots.
That to him was truly frightening.
He was leery as well of this three-man council idea. The more diversity the better, he'd always felt. The more voices heard in a government -- any government -- the better the representation. But there'd been a town meeting at the high school last week, and by an overwhelming vote the attendees had decided to scale back the size of the council from five to three. At The Store's behest, the town charter had been amended for the first time in its history, and he did not see that as a good sign.
Ben stepped back onto the empty street and looked at the painted window of the electronics shop:
VOTE FOR A CHANGE!
ELECT ANDERSON, MCHENRY AND MALORY
TOWN COUNCIL
He smiled to himself. He'd come up with the slogan 'Vote for a Change,' amused by its double meaning, by its criticism of the town's apathy, and though Bill had not thought it wise to insult the voters they were trying to woo, Ben didn't think most of them would get it.
He still thought that.
Backing all the way to the sidewalk on the other side of the street, he continued to stare at the sign, trying to determine its efficacy. He walked from one end of the block to the other, glancing over his shoulder, pretending he was a driver in a car, then walked back across the street to the electronics shop.
He was pretty happy with the way the job had turned out. The paint on the window was bright, and against the dull drabness of the dying downtown, the message stood out forcefully.
The cardboard signs they'd nailed up all over town and on the highway also looked good, but Ben knew from experience that that wouldn't be enough.
The Store had the radio.
And the newspaper.
Even thinking about the newspaper ticked him off.
He walked inside the shop.
'How's it look?' Street asked.
Ben gave a thumbs-up sign. 'Excellent, if I do say so myself.'
'Think it'll help?'
'No.'
Ben walked over to the register counter, picked up his cup of coffee from where he'd left it, and finished off the dregs. When he and Street and Ted Malory had decided to run as a ticket, The Store had countered, offering an alternate slate. He wondered now if it had been a mistake to run together. Maybe they should have campaigned separately, as individuals, not tied their fates so closely to each other.
'Do you think we have a chance?' Street asked.
Ben shook his head.
'Maybe it'll go two-one, or one-two. Maybe we'll at least get one guy on there.'
'I don't think so.'
'So The Store'll own the council.'
'Again.'
'It'll be even worse this time. They won't have to buy anyone off. They won't need a middle man to do their dirty work. They'll be in charge themselves and they'll be legitimately elected.'
Ben nodded. 'I know.' He looked at the back side of the painted window.
'God help us all.'
2
It was not going to be a victory party. They knew that going in. It was a defeat party, a commiseration session, a wake.
Still, the gym was more crowded than Bill had expected, and it kept alive a small spark of hope within him. Maybe more people than they'd thought had figured out what The Store was doing to Juniper. Maybe the citizens of the town were too smart to have been fooled by The Store's glitzy advertising and inflated promises.
He thought of the famous photo of Harry Truman holding up a newspaper with a banner headline reading: DEWEY WINS!
Sometimes the oddsmakers turned out to be wrong. Sometimes the underdog did triumph.
