* * * *
“You like that stuff, don’t you?” asked Jason on their way home.
“The talking to people or the designated position?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Well, I do like talking to people, always have; but as for the position, it’s what needs to be done. I could be happy as any man just working on the ranch every day, without a care in the world about what happens beyond the front gates. But then Sheriffing would be someone else’s problem. Somebody has to do it, so why not me? At least I get to work with my friends.”
“You mean me?”
“Of course I mean you, Jason, and David as well. Together we can make real and lasting change in Weston, maybe even make this town better than it was before. I’m excited about the possibilities and we’ve already overcome a huge hurdle with Judge Lowry and Kate. Every day is a chance to improve the situation for our families and those in our town. With all of the other designated towns across the country, we have a real chance at keeping this country afloat.”
“Yeah. Honestly, I can’t remember a time when I felt truly more alive than now,” replied Jason. “Sure, I get stressed, but I got that before too, just about different problems. Lauren and the girls couldn’t be happier at your place, and we’ve got a still right on your property!”
James laughed, adding, “Yeah, that one got us in some trouble with the ladies for sure!”
* * * *
James was informed the next morning that the Colonel would be by the following afternoon for a progress update. He spent the day cleaning house—firing half of his deputies on the word of his lead deputy and longtime friend.
“Can’t start out new with a bushel of half-rotten apples,” he told David and Jason. “We’ll interview some of the FEMA guests when they get here,” he announced. “I want a solid crew and the safest town in the state, if not the country.”
* * * *
“What do we have, James?” asked the Colonel the following day, just before lunch.
“We have got a good group, sir. We’re in the process of replacing a few bad apples on the deputy team, and then we should be solid. Did you ever find the former Sheriff?”
“No, not yet, but I’m sure she will turn up. I hear there is a restaurant open in town—is that right?”
“Yes, sir. The Weston Grill and Tavern. I know the owner well.”
“Good, let’s see if they have a steak today—my treat.”
The Colonel sat with James, Jason and David, hammering out the specifics, although there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room in the discussion, James pointed out respectfully.
“I understand your concern,” replied the Colonel, “but we can’t have every Chapter doing something different. Did you ever see that movie…Krock, I think it was called?”
“I think it’s The Founder,” replied James, “and I only saw the preview since it never got released before the lights went out.”
“That makes sense,” replied the Colonel. “We got an advanced viewing when it was almost completed. Basically, an outside view of what we’re trying to do here, and I have to say it makes sense when you hear it. Anyway, there’s a part where Ray Krock is just getting started with franchising locations, and the most important part of the corporation’s success is to keep everything the same. So, you can get a hamburger at ten different locations and it looks the same, tastes the same, and costs the same. Then, one day he sees one of them selling other menu items—like fried chicken or barbecue, I can’t remember—and he goes crazy because they are not following the plan. That’s what we’re trying to do here. Every Chapter will have a Sheriff and Deputies, a Mayor, Deputy Mayor, and a five-person City Council.”
“We’re still working on that, sir, but will have it done in the next few days,” replied James. “And yes, I see the point of the story,” he added, with both David and Jason nodding in agreement.
“Great! So, we’re on the same page,” replied the Colonel. “You run the show, and if you get into any trouble, give me a holler.”
“We can do that—right, Jason and David?”
“Sure thing,” replied David, with a “Yup” from Jason.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Thirty
Southern Colorado Chapter
of the US Coalition
Two days later, the three sat outside the empty jailhouse, discussing town plans.
“Here they come,” announced James, only getting a heads-up yesterday about the newly arriving FEMA guests.
One by one, the trucks slowly passed, each lined with small trailers, all appearing brand new. Each truck carrying four trailers lumbered past, one after the other, as far as the eye could see.
“I hope we made the right decision doing this,” said Jason aloud.
“There was no decision,” said James. “It’s this or run for the hills. These people have a real chance at starting over, just like you did not too long ago, and like I did leaving Chicago. I wouldn’t have named my ranch Second Chances if I didn’t believe it fully. Everyone wants to help the homeless, but nobody wants to open their own doors.”
“I understand,” said Jason, feeling bad he had to be reminded.
Jason oversaw the placing of the trailers in predetermined rows, and without hookups it was just the Army maneuvering them into place.
By day’s end, just shy of 200 trailers were lined in rows of 20, with a dirt road separating each cluster.
* * * *
The
