Dae's Christmas Past (21 page)

Mary Catherine stared out at the water. “I wish that made me feel better. What are we going to do, Dae?”

Duck town hall was filled to capacity that evening. Even Gramps was there in the crowd to see me sworn in for a second term as mayor.

I had to wear the official mayor’s coat the seamstresses in town had created for special occasions. Lucky for me it was chilly and damp in November. The only other time I’d worn it was at the Fourth of July parade.

The heavy wool coat was too big for me, I assumed because no one had ever considered that a woman would be mayor. It seemed as though they’d made it for a large man like Mad Dog—maybe
for
Mad Dog. I’d wanted to ask them to take it in, but Gramps thought that was presumptuous. Maybe now that I was mayor for another term, I’d ask them for that favor. They could always let it back out when someone else became mayor after me.

The coat was meant to reflect our history with pirates. It was covered with red sashes and gold medallions that resembled pieces of eight. There were two red ribbons and real gold doubloons that went around my neck. The sleeves went past my wrists even though I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with lace cuffs. We were Bankers—our ancestors had survived the harsh life at the Outer Banks to earn the title. These things were part of our heritage. I didn’t want to mess with that.

With one hand on the oldest Bible in town, dated 1610, I took my second oath of office. I smiled at Kevin and Gramps in the audience and posed for pictures that would be posted online and put up in the new town hall building.

When I was officially mayor again, I used my gavel to bring the meeting to order. We all said the Pledge of Allegiance to the U.S. flag and then Nancy read the minutes from the last meeting. That brought us to new business.

The primary objective of new business that night was putting two temporary council members into the empty seats. I noticed right away that Mad Dog was sitting in front near the council dais. He had a big grin on his face as though giving him back in his old seat was all but done. I hoped he was wrong.

“The council will hear from citizens who wish to be considered for our two vacant seats,” I explained to everyone. “There will be a deliberation after we’ve heard from every person who has told us their qualifications for the positions. Council will vote after that, with the mayor breaking any tie between the two seated councilmembers.”

I hoped that was a suitable explanation of what would take place.

Our remaining councilmembers nodded their approval of my words. We were off to a good start—no one wanted to debate the proceedings.

Mad Dog was up first, of course. He approached the podium and leaned close to the microphone. “My name is Randal ‘Mad Dog’ Wilson. I grew up in Duck, as did every other member of my family for the last three hundred years. I helped bring about the town charter, and I’ve sat on the council since we became a town. I would still be seated but for a rule that required me to give up my place to run for mayor. A rule, I might mention, that I plan to change when I take my seat on the council again. Thank you.”

There was a smattering of applause from some of his old buddies who’d no doubt voted for him to be mayor in the election. I brought my gavel down again for quiet.

Next up was Cody Baucum. He explained how he and his brother had come to live in Duck and open Wild Stallions. “I plan to live in Duck the rest of my life and raise my kids here. I want them to appreciate this wonderful place that I’ve come to know—without massive changes being brought by outsiders. I know Duck was incorporated as a city in the first place because you wanted to keep it the way it was. If I’m on the council, this will be my prime directive. Keep Duck small and prosperous! Thank you.”

There was more applause for Cody, with a few boos from Mad Dog’s friends.

I noticed that Martin Sheffield was in the audience. I was surprised to see him there since he technically didn’t live here. Why would he be at one of our meetings when nothing we did would affect him? I could see if it was a Corolla meeting.

Jake was across the room from him giving Dr. Sheffield looks that could kill an elephant. Sheffield had a tougher hide. Kevin was staring at Jake as though he wanted him to go away as much as Jake wanted Dr. Sheffield to vanish.

I brought my focus back to the woman at the podium. Martha Segall was the town crank. If there was something she could possibly complain about, she complained. If not, she made something up to ridicule. She was telling everyone about being born and raised in Duck and how she’d clean up the messes made by everyone else on the town council.

August Grandin came up with his story and agenda after Martha. His platform was popular since it included doing away with all taxes for local businesses. There was strong applause for him. I saw the two council members beside me whispering after his introduction.

The last person who wanted to be considered for the council was our fire chief, Cailey Fargo. Her tone was confident and deliberate. She knew aspects of problems that would have to be considered by the council for any sustained growth. I recognized some of her ideas from meetings I’d had with Chris Slayton. The two were obviously on the same page. I didn’t think that was a bad thing.

“Thank you for volunteering for these positions,” I said when the room was quiet. “We’ll take a fifteen minute recess and give you our choices for council members when we return.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Mad Dog shouted. “It seems to me a choice as important as this one should take more time.”

“I’d like to remind everyone that whoever takes these council seats tonight will have to run for election in eighteen months. If you’re not happy with our choices, you can vote them out and run for office yourself. Thank you. There’s coffee and hot tea in the ante-room, and I think we have some goodies from Duck’s Donuts.” I hoped everyone had paid attention to what I said. It seemed they did when people started moving out of the council room to grab a hot drink.

I opened the door to my office. It had been a large storage room when I’d first become mayor. It had a good window that overlooked the water. I’d had it painted a nice, watery blue and put in all the nautical related artifacts I could find. I had a ship’s bell from a freighter that had gone down in a storm in the early 1800s, and other reminders that Duck had prospered—and been destroyed many times—by our proximity to the water.

Council member Dab Efird immediately made himself clear about putting Mad Dog back into office. “He might win in the next election, but it won’t be with my help. We need some fresh thinking on the council.”

I was delighted when Council member Rick Treyburn agreed with him. “I’d prefer someone who is business oriented, like Cody Baucum.”

“He’s so young,” Dab debated. “What about Cailey Fargo? She’s earned her keep around here for many years. I think she’d be good for Duck.”

Rick wasn’t sure about that idea. “I think our fire chief might try to influence our spending. What about August? He’s kept the General Store open for years. He’d be good with finances.”

“But he’s so old,” Dab said. “I could go along with Cody, I guess—if you could go along with Cailey. I think we’d find she’d do a good job without involving the fire department.”

“I could do that,” Rick agreed. “As the mayor reminded us, we’ll all be up for election in eighteen months.”

“What do you think, Madam Mayor?” Dab asked. “You seem to have the most recent take on what people are looking for since you’ve just won re-election. What about it?”

“I’m happy to agree with both of you,” I said. “I think Cody would give us a younger perspective that would be useful moving into the future, and Cailey has always had a good head on her shoulders. Don’t forget that she hasn’t always been fire chief. I think the two of them would be good for Duck.”

“All right.” Rick grinned. “I guess we’re agreed.” The two men shook hands.

“But we can’t go in and announce our decision yet.” Dab glanced at his watch. “If Mad Dog is unhappy with the idea of a fifteen minute decision, think how unhappy he’ll be with a five minute decision.”

So we agreed to sit in my office for the full fifteen minutes. We talked about the Christmas celebration and the next item up, which would be old business. We couldn’t discuss it too much outside the council room or that would be a violation of our oaths of office. I had no idea how these two men would vote on the proposal to allow a gambling ship to dock close to the Blue Whale. Cody and Cailey’s decision on that was a mystery too.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Part of me felt like Gramps and Sheriff Riley—I wasn’t sure a gambling ship was what the town needed. On the other hand, it might make a difference to getting more local businesses to stay open during the winter months when everything usually closed.

At the end of fifteen minutes, we went back to the council room where people were beginning to take their seats. Nancy handed me a note from Dr. Sheffield. He was asking for a few minutes of my time after the meeting. That explained why he was there, but I couldn’t imagine what he’d have to say that would make him sit through town business.

I banged my gavel and re-opened the meeting. When the room got still, I announced our decision to have Cailey and Cody on the town council.

Mad Dog was furious. He pushed his bulky six-foot-six, three-hundred pound body up quickly from his chair. “And this is what we can expect for the next eighteen months? A lot of nothing.”

He exited the room with a few of his friends. Gramps gave me a thumbs-up on the council members we’d chosen. I didn’t see Dr. Sheffield as the second part of the meeting got underway. Maybe he was waiting for me outside. Jake smiled and waved before he left.

“On to old business,” I said after the new council members had been sworn-in and taken their seats. “Mr. Bullard is here representing the interests backing the gambling ship that wants to dock in Duck. You have the floor, Mr. Bullard.”

Mr. Bullard and Chris started a presentation that included the possible income the town could expect from the gambling ship, and well-documented information from other small towns that had embraced a similar situation.

Bullard was a short, round man who kept mopping his brow with a white handkerchief. He had an excellent voice and presentation manner though, and his PowerPoint ended with an image of what the gambling ship would look like. The image was that of a pirate ship, with modern conveniences, of course. The ship would go out twelve miles each day to allow its patrons to gamble on slot machines, drink, and eat.

What sold his pitch was the ship. It had been modeled to look like the1720’s Spanish treasure ship that haunted our shores, the
Andalusia
. People in the room broke out into excited applause when they saw it.

Chief Michaels stood, and held out his hands for silence. “I know you all are excited about the idea of the gambling ship, especially now that you’ve seen it. Yes, it has clever marketing, but what’s going to be the cost to the soul of Duck if they put it in here?”

Sheriff Riley got to his feet beside him. “They have facts and statistics that say how much Duck will prosper by allowing them to dock here. We have facts and statistics from some of the other coastal towns that have gone along with this idea. It’s not a pretty picture like they paint. Crime of all kinds from burglary to assault, even rape, goes up when the gambling ship opens. I don’t live here in Duck, but I’d hate to see this happen to you.”

Luke Helms was there too. “I’ve seen the evidence the sheriff and our police chief are discussing. I may be the Dare County DA, but I live here in Duck too. I implore the council to vote against the gambling ship being allowed to dock here. Thank you for your time.”

“Gentlemen, your remarks are improper until after our guest has finished his presentation,” I said. “Continue, Mr. Bullard.”

“I’m finished, Mayor O’Donnell. That concludes my presentation. Thank you for allowing me to show you what we have.”

Dab Efird nodded. “I like the sound of this, Mr. Bullard. How long are we talking about between us giving our approval and the ship setting up here?”

“Probably six to nine months.” Mr. Bullard was packing up his materials.

Cody Baucum smiled. “I can imagine how great this could be for Duck.”

Chris Slayton stood up to address us. “Mayor and town council members, staff recommends that we table the idea until we have a chance to fully examine the statistics that have been given to us by law enforcement this evening.”

“Thank you, Chris,” I said.

“Madam Mayor,” Rick Treyburn began. “With all due respect to Mr. Slayton, our town manager, we’ve already put off the vote on this project. I think we should take it up right now.”

I shrugged at Chris as he sat down. “All right. All those for the project, please say aye.”

There was no reason to call for the nays. All four council members voted unanimously to allow the gambling ship to dock in town. My vote on the matter didn’t count since I was only allowed to break ties.

The gavel came down on the matter. “The ayes have it. Welcome to Duck, Mr. Bullard.”