Rolltown

XI

There was another moment of shocked silence and then a muttering, then a jabbering, only part of it in indignation.

Dean Armanruder rapped them to silence.

He looked at Jeff Smith, still standing, a defiant smirk on his face. The senior executive committee member said evenly, “Mr. Smith, you have either said too much or too little. Please elucidate.”

Jeff Smith rapped, “For the first part of this story we have only the word of Hardin and Zogbaum, from whom we haven’t as yet heard, but I assume he’ll back his fellow barroom brawler. They say they went into town and the Mexicans started a fight. That’s what they say. Evidently, the Linares chief of police sees it otherwise.”

“You’re damn right I back Bat Hardin,” Ferd Zogbaum called.

Dean Armanruder rapped with his gavel. “That will be all at this time, Mr. Zogbaum. We follow Robert’s Rules of Order here. Continue, Mr. Smith.”

Jeff Smith went on. “The second part of the story has nothing to back it whatsoever and on its face is a pretty fanciful tale. Mexico is a civilized country. Armed vigilantes don’t attack peaceful tourists. What Hardin’s purpose is, I wouldn’t know. For some reason he evidently doesn’t want to see New Woodstock continue to our destination, South America. He wants to turn back. Possibly he’s afraid of the long trip ahead and would rather remain in the States where life is admittedly easier, especially for the town’s peace officer.”

The assembly buzzed again and Armanruder rapped for silence.

He looked at Bat Hardin and said, “Do you have anything to say to this, Mr. Hardin?”

“No,” Bat said.

Armanruder looked back at Jeff Smith. “And what is your proposal, Mr. Smith?”

“I propose, first, that we go on, as planned. And secondly that we depose this alarmist and elect a new police officer.”

Armanruder said, “It is not the most desirable among the town’s volunteer positions, Mr. Smith. Whom would you suggest as an alternative to Mr. Hardin?”

“Anyone. His now deputy, Al Castro, could certainly do better.”

Al Castro called, “No thanks. Bat’s the man, so far as I’m concerned. I’m happy to stay on as his deputy but I wouldn’t take his job as long as he wants it.”

Armanruder rapped with his gavel. “Please ask for recognition by the chair before stating your opinions, Mr. Castro.”

But Al added, his voice loud and clear, “I’ve never heard Bat Hardin tell a lie as long as I’ve known him.”

Armanruder gave another double rap. “Go on, Mr. Smith.”

Smith said, “If no one else will volunteer for the job, I make the following motion. That Hardin be dismissed and that I be made town police officer.”

There was silence for a moment.

Finally, Jim Blake said, “For the sake of bringing it to the vote, I’ll second that motion. And I’ll also vote for Bat Hardin being retained.”

Armanruder said, “Motion has been moved and seconded. Bat Hardin to be replaced by Jeff Smith as police officer of New Woodstock. Miss Paskov, you are tied into the computer for voting?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean Armanruder looked at the assembly. “To simplify, if there is no objection, cast your vote for either Mr. Smith or Mr. Hardin.”

There was little hesitation. Each member of the assembly put his or her pocket phone to mouth and cast the vote.

“Have all voted?” Armanruder said.

No one spoke up.

He said, “Miss Paskov?”

Nadine Paskov said dryly, “There were two votes for Mr. Smith.”

A laugh tittered through the assembly.

Jeff Smith flushed angrily and sat down.

Bat Hardin, obviously, was gratified. However, he knew that there were various persons in the town who weren’t particularly friendly toward him. He wondered if his victory was a matter of the lesser of two evils. Though they might not think him the best of all possible cops, they were pretty sure that Jeff Smith would be a damned sight worse. He also wondered vaguely who had cast the second vote for Smith, who had obviously voted for himself.

Armanruder was saying, “We have all, except two, evidently accepted the truthfulness of Mr. Hardin’s story, that he was kidnapped and the town threatened. How large an element has threatened us, we cannot say, but a threat has been made. Further comments before we put to a vote whether or not we should retreat?”

Ferd Zogbaum raised his hand and was recognized.

He stood and said, an indignation in his tone, “When we decided to make this trek, all the way to South America, did any of us labor under the illusion that it was all going to be peaches and cream? Didn’t we realize that we proposed to go through some of the wildest country remaining in North, Central and South America? Didn’t we realize that there was going to be all sorts of hardship and accident before we got through? Didn’t we all accept that some of our vehicles would break down, that some of us, before we were through, would possibly die from one cause or the other? Didn’t we all know that there would be bad weather, landslides earthquakes, and possibly bandits? Very well. This is our first stop. Is it going to be our last south of the border? Are we going to chicken out at the first threat#longdash#not actuality, thus far, just a threat#longdash#of danger?”

He sat down abruptly.

Armanruder said, “Thank you Mr. Zogbaum. Anyone else?”

Phil Terwilliger requested permission to speak.

He said, “It is all very well for a young man such as Mr. Zogbaum to be so gung ho, to wish to press on into adventure. However, when my wife, who is already quite ill, and I voted to take this trip with the rest of the town, we did not expect to be bitten by snakes in Nicaragua, or buried by a landslide in Costa Rica, nor…” his elderly voice went sarcastic “… attacked by headhunting Indians in Ecuador. We had been of the opinion that with the advent of the Pan American Highway it was quite possible these days to travel all the way to our destination in reasonable comfort and safety. However, if on our first day we are threatened by a body of armed men, one of whom told Mr. Hardin that he wouldn’t particularly mind shooting him, then I think we have stuck our necks into something more than we had originally planned. I strongly urge that we turn back as a town. But if you others vote to go on then I, at least, will disassociate myself from New Woodstock and return to the States to take up residence in some other mobile town or city.”

There were others. They spoke in varying degrees of heat, indignation or fearfulness, some taking one side, some the other.

When it was finally put to the vote, four-fifths of the assembly were for going on. The remainder refused to accept the decision of the majority and decided to return in a body to Texas. The returnees numbered approximately one hundred of the mobile homes, largely those owned by the more elderly.

The question then became what to do with the community property such as the auxiliary vehicles and the town treasury, which was not overly large. The treasury was accumulated by a slight tax on all citizens of the town, or a community assessment if an emergency of more than usual magnitude developed.

Since the vote had gone so strongly for the element that wished to go on, it was decided that all auxiliaries remain with New Woodstock and that those that were returning be recompensed out of town funds for their share of what they left behind.

And the question then became, where were these funds to come from, since the treasury held no such amount?

This was solved by several of the more affluent town members such as Armanruder, Doctor Barnes and Jim Blake making a loan to the town which would be repaid as rapidly as tax money came in. A small levy was also to be made, small enough as not to be a strain even on citizens who existed solely on their NIT, to help in the transaction.

Still another problem arose. Among those who were to return was the middle-aged Barbara Stevens, the competent nurse of Doctor Barnes. He had two or three other practical nurses in the town, or whom he could call in emergency, but Miss Stevens was the only professional.

It was decided immediately to issue a call through the United Mobile Cities Association and its TV newspaper for a nurse, preferably a volunteer, but, if necessary, one who could be put on the town payroll.

Someone suggested that very possibly they could pick up a nurse in Mexico City who would work for considerably less pay than an American, if no American on NIT volunteered to take the position without recompense.

Someone else suggested that the Mexican nurse, if one was found, be offered free living quarters in the hospital. This would lessen the amount of pay necessary and New Woodstock was too small a town to support much in the way of a town payroll. It was also pointed out that a Mexican nurse would be a double advantage. She would be able to communicate in Spanish all the way down to South America, in Spanish medical terms. Doctor Barnes did not have Spanish, and there were very few in the whole town who did.