Chapter 7: The Town Turns

“Don’t use the whole town to pressure me. I don’t even live here—what, if I don’t pay, is that a crime?”

I scoffed.

“Then we’ll have to call a town-wide meeting. This is a community matter.”

Seeing I wasn’t intimidated, the manager muttered.

“Then call it. Doesn’t the council have a loudspeaker? Go notify everyone now.”

“I’m the biggest contributor for the road, but my house is left out. I want to see who can explain this to me.”

I called his bluff.

I know all about the manager’s tricks. He just wants to use the whole town to pressure me into giving in.

“This isn’t good…”

The manager hesitated. Calling a meeting of all residents is something that hasn’t happened in generations. Even for the once-in-a-century road project, they only went door to door for opinions.

“Do as you like. If the road isn’t built to my front door, I won’t pay.”

I shrugged, unconcerned.

“Derek, you’re making enemies.”

He struggled for a while, then stomped off to make the announcement.

Making enemies?

At this point, if I was still afraid of making enemies, wouldn’t my family just get pushed around forever?

He still pretends to care about me—does he think I don’t know what kind of person Mike Sanders is?

No matter what, he always does the least and takes the most.

“All residents, attention! All residents, attention!”

“There’s a change in the road construction plan. All able-bodied residents, come to the council as soon as possible!”

“Repeat, there’s a change in the road construction plan…”

The manager’s not-so-standard voice echoed through the town loudspeaker.

Soon, neighbors started arriving, and in less than half an hour, everyone who could come was there.

The council’s small yard was soon packed. The morning sun slanted across the crowd—folks in Carhartt jackets, ballcaps, slippers and socks. Someone had brought a folding lawn chair. The hum of gossip buzzed louder than the cicadas in July. People showed up in muddy work boots and faded John Deere hats, clutching thermoses of coffee like shields.

The manager ran around, rallying his cronies.

My parents came too.

“Derek, what’s going on? Why is there a town-wide meeting?”

Dad asked, confused.

“I told Mike Sanders to call everyone. The neighbors are going too far.”

I replied irritably, quietly explaining the situation to my parents.

“Derek, isn’t this bad?”

“If you do this, you’ll offend everyone. Even if the road is built to our door, how will we get along with others in the future?”

“Maybe just forget it. If the road isn’t built, we’ll lay some bricks ourselves. It’s only a few dozen yards, not a big deal.”

Mom is an honest woman. Hearing I was going to confront the whole town, her first reaction was to worry I’d ruin our relationships over the road. She squeezed my arm, voice barely above a whisper, glancing at the crowd like she half-expected them to turn on us.

“I wanted to tell Mom I’d fix everything, but all I could do was squeeze her hand and hope I sounded braver than I felt.”

“What’s there to be afraid of? We don’t owe them anything, so why should we care what others think?”

“Everyone paid for the road, so why is our house left out?”

“If anyone tries to make trouble, I’ll handle them.”

Before I could answer, Dad spoke up firmly.

“Let’s reason with them—no need for violence. We’re all neighbors, it wouldn’t look good to fall out.”

Mom always followed Dad’s lead, but she still worried.

“Don’t worry, Mom. We’re in the right today. You and Dad go home first—I can handle this.”

I reassured her and told them to go home.

Who knows what might happen—maybe a fight would break out. I didn’t want the old folks to worry.

“It’s fine, we’ll just watch. If anyone dares cross the line, I won’t let them off.”

Dad refused without hesitation. I knew he wasn’t just curious—he was worried I’d get the short end of the stick. He crossed his arms, jaw set, standing like a stubborn old oak next to me in the yard. Mom hovered at his elbow, wringing her hands, face pale as milk.