Chapter 39 The Zoning Committee Meeting

It was Nine O’clock on the dot as Samuel pulled into the car park at the side of Town Hall in Spicebridge, it was abnormally hot that morning and the humidity made any task an effort. It was coming to the end of the summer and now the humidity would reach its most uncomfortable maximum. The hot days would be interspersed with violent storms and heavy downpours until the weather finally broke and cooling winds blew in from the North West. This would bring the average daily temperatures down from about ninety degrees to about seventy four degrees and the humidity down from around the ninety five percent mark to about sixty percent, something that all the resident of Evangeline looked forward to.

Samuel reversed into a parking bay keeping his engine running to allow the air-conditioning to keep him cool as he sat there in his smart suit and tie. He had half an hour before the zoning committee meeting was due to start so he leaned over and picked up his presentation and proceeded to read through it again, highlighting the most important points that he wished to make and for the fourth time altering the numbering of each point to suit its priority of importance. This task was essential he concluded as he was only permitted five minutes maximum to speak to the zoning committee and put across his case for objecting to the Alligator Farm zoning application. The last couple of days had seen Samuel’s demeanor change significantly; he spent every waking hour obsessively working on his presentation, going over it, refining it each time. For the time being paid work was put to one side and his clients’ ditches went un-dug. His brain worked overtime as it crafted the words that he wished to say, it identified the specific phrase or sentence that would deliver the maximum amount of information in the least words as possible without loosing any of the meaning of each point. He had first critiqued the zoning application itself, identifying untruths and misleading information. He then critiqued the zoning officer’s report and again identified untruths and misleading information as well as identifying every area of the zoning application that was in non compliance with local parish, state and national zoning policies and federal laws. When he had not been sitting at his computer his mind was still running through his presentation making subtle changes to the wording to allow their delivery to have maximum effect.

With ten minutes to go until the committee meeting started Samuel got out of his pickup with the folder containing his presentation and a pen clasped between his left elbow and side. He turned and locked his pickup door, straightening his tie in the reflection in his side window then let his folder slip down into the grasp of his left hand and strode off across the car park and into the shade of the Town Hall building. He followed the signs for the committee meeting room down a well polished corridor until he reached his destination. As he entered the room marked ‘Meeting Chambers’ he was initially hit by a wall of stifling heat which momentarily stopped him in his tracks, he quickly scanned around the room. His initial thought was that it looked like a court room, very formal with wooden paneled walls.  Four ceiling fans slowly whirred overhead as their electric motors strained to turn their large highly polished wooden blades. They did little to cool the room, all they did was move large volumes of very hot air around, a bank of windows at the far end of the room were all open but the day was so heavy and still that there was no breeze anywhere. To the rear center of the room was a high wooden bench with five microphones placed upon it with seating behind. To its left in the corner of the room was a projector and screen set at a slight angle. To the right of the bench were two rows of six chairs with a long wooden table in front of each row of chairs, each place at the table had its own microphone. Immediately to his left were four rows of chairs with approximately twelve chairs per row, this area had a wooden desk out front with a chair and the table was set with a microphone. This area Samuel concluded was the public area. He was just about to turn to his left and take up his seat when a lady came bustling over to him, clipboard in hand.

“We speakin to-day suh?”

She asked politely.

“Yes I am mam, my name is Samuel Kennedy and I am objecting to the zoning application in Lokchapi.”

She looked down the list of names on her clipboard and found Samuel’s name and placed a red tick next to it.

“Thank yuh suh, please make yuh’sel comf-tble, there’s cawfee or juice on the side while you waits….It wone be long, we’ll be startin in about tain minutes or so.”

Samuel thanked her and poured himself a cup of coffee and took his seat at the back of the public seating area at the end nearest to the door he had just come in through. It was going to be an uncomfortable time in that room, his brow had already broken into a light sweat and the lady who had just spoken to him was leaning against the wall by the entrance door fanning herself with her clipboard. As he looked to his side her saw a large notice apologizing for the lack of air-conditioning due to a fault, ‘Typical, probably another cost cutting exercise’, Samuel thought, he sat there silently sipping his coffee as the fans whirred overhead.

He knew from experience not to look at his presentation any more, he knew what he had written, was happy with its prioritization and knew that if he kept reading through it right up until it was his turn to speak that he would only confuse himself. He sat people watching, relaxing his mind while the committee room filled, people started entering the committee room from a door behind the long wooden bench and taking up their seats on the two rows of six chairs to his right. Samuel concluded that these must be committee members, and then a couple of people took up their places at the bench, one at the far end and the second in the center behind the name plate that stated Chairman. He was the round faced man in his mid sixties with a small pair of silver rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose that had spoken at the site visit. He turned over a page of a document on the bench in front of him and studied it intently before looking up over the top of his silver rimmed glasses and scanning the committee room. Slowly the public area filled with people and the noise level in the room rose from a gentle background murmur to quite a noisy chatter and babel. There was a crush of people around the three coffee canteens and six large jugs of juice. They were all jockeying for position, pouring coffees, adding milk, sugar, sweeteners, making small talk. One man in particular caught Samuel’s attention, a tall man with grey hair and a crumpled crème linen suit. He strode into the committee room with his nose held high and his chest thrust forwards and barged his way through the crowd at the refreshments table straight to the front and poured himself a coffee, he then did the same and barged past people to get milk before again barging his way out and walking over and past Samuel taking a seat right at the front center of the public seating area.

“What a dickhead”, Samuel said to himself at a volume that escaped his lips and was audible by a man sitting two seats to his left, the man chuckled and nodded in agreement, it was then that Samuel thought that he recognized the man in the crumpled crème linen suit. It looked like it was Gant the agent for the Johnson’s who had spoken at the site meeting but he couldn’t be sure. According to the clock set centrally above the highly polished wooden bench opposite Samuel it was nine twenty nine and nearly all of the public seats were taken, all of the committee members were seated and all five seats behind the bench were occupied. Samuel was just thinking that proceeding would probably be starting any time soon when he noticed Billy-Bob Johnson and his wife lurch into the committee room through the door to Samuel’s right. She was a sight for sore eyes, topped with a pink baseball hat, dressed in a micro miniskirt and very low cut tee shirt, tottering around on unbelievably high heels. Her make up looked like it had been applied with a shovel, it was smeared across her cheeks, eyes and lips in vast quantities of bright clashing colors. The fat around her midriff was bulging up and over the waistband of her skirt like a slow motion Jell-O waterfall, and as she tottered along the undulating fat rippled and rolled across her body like waves out on the open ocean. Billy-Bob looked as if a blind man had bought a suit at a thrift store and given it to him. Its jacket was to narrow across the shoulders, to short in the arms and the one done up button was straining against the avalanche of fat that was threatening to burst free from his belly area. The Jacket was black and the trousers dark blue and they were too short in the leg by about three inches which exposed odd socks and a pair of big old brown leather CAT safety boots.

The grey haired man in the crumpled lined suit who had been craning his neck around towards the door for the last five minutes immediately jumped to his feet and called them over.

‘Ah he was right it was the zoning agent Gant, ‘hopefully I’ll get to fire a few fucks into him by the time I’ve delivered my presentation’, Samuel thought as he watched the latter day Beverly Hillbillies make their way towards the two seats that Gant had reserved for them at the front.

A loud crackle accompanied by a whine announced that something was happening. Samuel looked across towards the bench to see the chairman fiddling with something at the base of his microphone; he bent the stem of the microphone towards his face before speaking loudly and clearly.

“Ladies, gentlemen, can we make a start please……, take your seats please……, I would like to get proceedings started on time we have a lot to attend to today…. Firstly a little housekeeping, the fire exits are over there to the left, if the fire alarm sounds make your way out in an orderly manner and wait around at the back of the building at fire point three….. Next, every speaker will have a maximum of five minutes to speak and I will make sure you keep to that. There are to be no arguments or personal attacks, keep your views to the application under discussion with your reasons to support or object……….. Finally if there is a split vote with no abstentions, being six a piece I will make the deciding vote….. Right lets get started, we have nine applications to determine to day the first being Pine Prairie number 72127, next  Ville Platte number, 72467, Next Lokchapi number 73425…………..”

Samuel’s ears pricked, he would be on third, ‘at least won’t have to sit here all day’, he thought as the chairman continued with the list of applications. Samuel listened to the procedure of the first two applications, who said what, the types of argument put forward to either support an application or to object to it. 

He recognized the two men to the right of the chairman as zoning Officer Mr. Clark and Highways Officer Mr. Meek, to the chairman’s left was the deputy chairman and a local government lawyer. Samuel missed both of their names as he was intently studying both Mr. Clark and Mr. Meek. By the time they had both spoken once regarding the first application he had concluded that Clark was an arrogant liar and Meek was a manipulative weasel of a man, he also noticed furtive glances between both men and a couple of people who he could not see but were seated in the public area. Samuel listened carefully to the questions that the committee put to the applicants, the zoning officers and anyone else connected to an application. Anyone that they felt could contribute to help them gain a clear understanding of all of the issues and then arrive at a determination was questioned. The first application was approved then the second was approved, Samuel thought that things were not looking good and he wondered if the committee was just a rubber stamping type of environment where they just went through the motions and approved everything. He was pondering this point when Mr. Clarke the zoning officer administering the application he was objecting to started speaking into his microphone. He listened to Mr. Clark present his conclusions which Samuel thought was more of a sales presentation than an unbiased report and noted that it was filled with half truths, lies, misrepresentations of policy and worded in such a way to completely mislead the listener.

It was just as Samuel had expected so he sat there silently listening and making a couple of notes. The next to speak was Mr. Meek who stood up and delivered as very short statement about the local highways and the condition of the track up to the proposed site. As with the zoning officer’s presentation Mr. Meeks’ was another sales pitch, which was again filled with half truths, lies and misrepresentations of policy and worded in such a way to completely mislead the listener. When he had finished speaking he sat down and a smug self satisfied smile crept across his face and settled in place on his thin lips. Next to speak was a man called Benjamin Carouse who was introduced as the Official Land Agent for Evangeline. He stood up in the public area, walked out front to the single desk with the microphone upon it and sat down. He delivered his assessment of the commercial viability of the current alligator farming activities of the Johnson’s, which Samuel knew were non existent. Mr. Carouse then spoke about and the business opportunities that moving to the new proposed site would present for the Johnson’s, he talked of them being able to expand their business, he talked of them providing new jobs for local people and he talked of a commercial success. Finally he assured the committee that the applicant had filed three years of current accounts for their business that demonstrated that it was a financially sound enterprise.

‘What a load of bullshit’, Samuel thought as Mr. Carouse made his way back to his seat in the public area. The calm that Samuel had maintained since arriving at the committee room was starting to fade, and the more he listened to people speak about this application the more he was angered by their blatant lies

Next to speak was the Johnsons themselves. ‘This should be interesting’, Samuel thought as the tottering Mrs. Johnson made her way the few steps from her front row seat to the wooden desk. Once seated she unfurled a piece of A4 paper and put it on the desk in front of her, she then looked up nervously at the bench opposite and then to the committee members to her right before clearing her throat and starting to speak. Again Samuel listened intently, he wasn’t a judgmental person but within thirty seconds it was obvious to him that this was written by someone else, it sounded almost the same as the zoning officer’s report and the land agents’ statement in the way it was phrased and how it emphasized certain points. Again it was half-truths, blatant lies and completely misleading information that was a good story but not a truthful account of the Johnson’s circumstances She lied about having a current business, she lied about the accounts that their lawyer had apparently provided to Mr. Carouse, she lied about all of the local jobs that would be created and she lied about the additional traffic that the alligator farm would generate. According to her and this was acknowledged by Meeks the highways officer in his statement earlier it would only generate two additional two way traffic movement per day. This was even though they had spoken about employing seven, possibly ten people.

‘Fuckin crap’, Samuel thought as Mrs. Johnson was finishing off her statement. He sat silently fuming as she stood up and made her way back to her seat. As Mrs. Johnson was sitting down the man in the linen suit stood up and strode purposely the few steps to the wooden desk and sat down. The chairman looked up from behind his silver rimmed glasses.

“Ahh, Mr. Gant I didn’t think I would have to invite you to take your seat at the microphone and talk for your clients, the Johnson’s…., you have arrived already.”

A of wave of chuckles swept through the room but Mr. Gant was completely oblivious.

Once the room had quietened Gant stood up from his seat and preceded to parade up and down in front of the public and committee areas delivered his statement to committee. If Samuel had not been so engrossed in what he was saying he would probably have laughed out loud at the performance. It was as if Gant saw himself as some kind of hot shot New York Lawyer in a Hollywood blockbuster. Like everything else Samuel had listened to in the last twenty minutes or so this was again a bundle of lies. The details of zoning policies were misquoted and again a story of benefit and good to the local community was woven by Gant. He had only got halfway through his statement when Samuel realised that it was this man who had probably penned the Johnsons statement for them and it sounded like important parts of Clarks presentation and Carouse’s statement, although it could have been the other way round with Clarke or Carouse being the author. All Samuel knew was that he was being well and truly fucked over. He fought the anger that was welling up inside of him, he let Gants final words fade into the background while he closed his eyes and shut out the world for a few moments.

Within Samuel’s mind a battle had been raging in his subconscious and now it had found its way into his conscious thoughts. A tsunami of furious rage fuelled by his growing anger, frustration, and hatred for the forces ranged against him swept out from the depths of his subconscious and spewed out in a torrent across his focused, calm and logical mind. He clenched his fists as he mentally willed the rage and anger to subside, he could feel the calm focus of his mind being engulfed in foamy confusion.

He heard his name being called.

“Mr. Kennedy…, Mr. Kennedy…., Mr. Kennedy…, would you like to speak?”

Samuel’s eyes flicked open and he was back in the committee room. Time slowed for Samuel as he answered in the affirmative and stood to speak, he decided at that moment to stand where he was and speak clearly and loudly without the need of the microphone on the desk at the front of the public area. He decided he didn’t need his notes because all he needed to say was crystal clear in his mind. He forced the tsunami of rage to sluice away back into his subconscious and he amended his presentation with rebuttals to at least one statement made by each of the people who had spoken so far, finally his face lit up and he smiled. As he opened his mouth to speak time sped up again and Samuel was back in the present, he felt alive, focused and alert, his heart beat quickened, and his blood pressure rose slightly as an injection of adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Samuel’s presentation was focused and delivered with confidence, using his voice to emphasize certain points. He identified every zoning policy that the application was not in compliance with, he identified the safety issues with the small narrow track that was the access to the site and the fact that the applicant had completely and purposely underestimated the number of new traffic movement along the track. He identified all of the untruths and misleading information within the application itself, he then identified all of the untruths and misleading information within the zoning officer’s report. He then identified protecting policies of the conservation area and the park status of the site and finally he provided a clear and concise rebuttal to at least one point made by each speaker. He was just about to conclude his presentation when the chairman of the committee spoke into his microphone

“Mr. Kennedy you have passed you’re allotted time.”

Samuel stopped speaking immediately and addressed the chairman.

“Ahh Mr. Chairman thank you for notifying me….. , that is all Mr. Chairman and members of committee…., Thank you for listening.”

He then sat down and awaited the discussion within the committee to commence. He was slightly perturbed however because during the course of his presentation he had noticed nearly half of the committee members were not even listening to him and these were the same ones that had seemed to ignore him at the site meeting. Four of them seated together on the back row of chairs seemed to be continually talking amongst themselves in hushed whispers while he spoke. The fifth seemed to be fiddling around with his cell phone for the entire time and the sixth was looking utterly board and from where Samuel stood he could see that he was endlessly doodling on the cover of a file in front of him.

The discussion started slowly with a committee member seated on the front row of chairs questioning Mr. Clark about policy, it was a particular point Samuel had raised. Mr. Clark answered quickly and in a manner that belittled Samuel’s point as being one made from a point of ignorance. The committee member made a note of the answer and thanked Mr. Clark. Another committee member sitting on the front row asked Mr. Clark another question about policy and again Mr. Clark was swift with his answer, delivering it in an assured manner. That committee member waited for Mr. Clark to finish his answer and thanked him. Then Mr. Meek was asked a highways safety question by a third member of the front row of the committee and as with Mr. Clark his answer was delivered swiftly and in an assured manner. As he finished speaking Mr. Meek turned towards Samuel and his expressionless face melted into a smirk. Samuel ignored this behavior and stayed focused upon the detail of the discussion.

So far nobody from the rear row of committee members had uttered a word, another question came from the front row and was this time addressed towards Mr. Carouse. It questioned the viability of the current business operation and asked him to confirm that the contents of the three years of business accounts provided by the applicant were full and proper qualified business accounts. Mr. Carouse reiterated his opinion that the current business was a viable business making a reasonable profit and that moving location to the proposed site would enable it to expand and employ more local people He also confirmed that the non existent accounts were full and proper qualified business accounts that demonstrated its viability. He lied with ease as Mr. Clark and Mr. Meek had done earlier and it was becoming evident to Samuel that this was an environment that they controlled and that they were all well practiced in lying, deceiving, misrepresenting facts and falsifying any and all information that they needed to get their way.

Finally a tall bearded man seated on the back row of the committee stood up and spoke. He started by congratulating the applicant for running a good profitable business and hoped that his application was successful because it would be good for Lokchapi to have a thriving business expand and employ more locals, he went on to say that it would be good for the local economy and was sure that it was in line with all of their zoning policies. Before he finishing speaking he asked Mr. Gant to give his opinion of the application again. Mr. Gant did this with relish; he shot to his feet and rolled off a list of non existent benefits and again falsely stated that the amount of new traffic generated along the track to the proposed site would be extremely low and in his opinion the local residents would not even notice any difference. Samuel shook his head from side to side

‘Bullshit, fuckin bullshit’, he thought as Mr. Gant sat back down, he closed his eyes momentarily and calmed his rising temper.

Another committee member on the back row stood to speak, an elder woman who’s tongue spat vile hatred as it berated Samuel and all of the objectors for wanting to strangle a commercial business and admonished them for putting their personal interests before those of Lokchapi. She spoke with a very strong local dialect and almost shouted as she summed up with tirade that rang in Samuel’s head for a good ten minutes afterwards.

“Jobs is jobs, an cain’t never could,……….youze jectors are all barkin up the wrong tree my friends, an Mr. Kennedy yuh just some worry-wart who’d gone off half cocked….., Auh aims to sport this placation all the way, just see Auh don’t…….., Auh’ll sport this placation all the way,…. All the way.”

The Chairman broke in immediately

“Councilor Lavache, please mind that tongue of yours and may I remind everybody that there are to be no personal attacks in my committee.”

Councilor Lavache glared across at the public area as she took her seat to the congratulations of three of her committee colleagues on the back row. Samuel was a little taken aback by her hostility and was only half listening as another back row member spoke in support of the application, he questioned Mr. Clark and Mr. Meek again on a couple of issues and received well rehearsed answers from both men who again lied convincingly and with what Samuel could only describe as consummate ease of born liars. ‘They would all make good actors’, he thought as Mr. Meek finished speaking and again looked over in his direction and this time openly sneered at him.

It was almost as if the last few committee members’ comments and questions had been delivered with the sole intention to completely belittle his reasoned objections and to taunt him personally. ‘They were working in concert to rattle him’, he thought as his mind worked overtime to stay focused and calm. Samuel could feel it all slipping away as he sat silently listening to a couple more questions from the back row of the committee. The answers as usual were short, sharp and confident in their delivery, although as Samuel knew only to well, were total lies. His mind was starting to loose its focus and wander for few moments until the committee member on the back row who had looked bored throughout and had spent the majority of the morning doodling suddenly stood up and fired a question at Mr. Clark. It referred to the first question of the discussion and it questioned its validity. Mr. Clark seemed a little shaken and for the first time he seemed unsure how to answer. He started to say something then stopped then started again. The answer he finally gave was quite long and rambling with many pauses, his face flushed as he spoke and it was evident to all that his confidence was draining away rapidly. When he had finished speaking he was thanked before having it pointed out to him that he had contradicted himself twice and what he had said earlier was completely and utterly incorrect.

“You calling me a liar?”

He shouted out across the room at the committee member.

Immediately the atmosphere in the room became electrified, what had been a calm, detailed and on the whole a well considered discussion, suddenly degenerated into a highly charged shouting match.

“Mr. Clark I am not calling you a liar…., you are a liar, an all is plain to see in what you’ve told us here today.”

The committee member responded with a broad smile.

“He’s no liar.”

 Mr. Meek shouted in support of Mr. Clark.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen please….. I will not have shouting and personal attack in my committee do I make myself clear, Mr. Clark, Councilor Ronson, Mr. Meek,…. is that clear?”

All three answered in the affirmative and apologized to the chairman. While the chairman took a second or two to compose himself Mr. Ronson mouthed ‘Liar’, across the committee room at Mr. Clark. Mr. Clark sat bolt upright, with crimson flushed cheeks shaking his head from side to side in response to Mr. Ronson’s silent taunts.

Samuel likened what happened in the committee room that morning to lighting a firework. You strike a match and there is a brief flare up of light and action, then you light the fuse, this slowly burns and all is quiet apart from a faint fizzing until suddenly the firework is ignited and goes up in a flash of color and noise.

While the chairman composed himself the fuse was fizzing away, he spoke to recommence the debate and the firework ignited with a flurry of questions from the front row members of the committee. They were aimed at Mr. Clark, Mr. Meek, Mr. Carouse and Mr. Gant, they were all policy based and to Samuel’s astonishment they were asking questions that Samuel had put to the committee himself. They questioned the accuracy of the information they had provided and the validity of their policy statements. As Samuel watched he could see Clark, Meek, Gant and Carouse all becoming more and more agitated as did five of the committee members seated on the back row. Each answer was more faltering in its delivery and the air of confidence was evaporating from the mouths ofClark, Meek, Gant and Carouse one by one as they delivered their answers. The more the committee probed the larger the cracks seemed to be in any argument to support the application and with this the tension in the room rose, tempers frayed and after a time the calm once again disintegrated into a shouting match.

The chairman once again called for order and getting little response suspended the meeting for fifteen minutes to allow everyone to, as he put it

“Cool off a little.”

Samuel like many other members of the public sat in a silent disbelief as they watched the committee members and officers all file out of the room, some still arguing between each other, Mr. Gant with Billy-Bob, Mary-Jo and Mr. Carouse in hot pursuit all made for the exit immediately and soon silence descended on the room.

All the way along the corridor from the committee room councilors arguments echoed off of the walls, Mr. Ronson taunted Mr. Clark.

“Admit itClarkyou are a bare faced liar.”

He shouted after Jeb Clark as he disappeared into a side room with Clive Meek, the door slammed shut behind them.

Outside in the glare of the noon sun Mr, Gant strode briskly over to his car and got in, Mr. Carouse joined him sitting in the passenger seat and Billy-Bob and Mary Jo jumped into the back.   

“What in hells name is going on?”

Mr. Carouse asked in an exasperated voice.

“It’s that dammed Ronson.”

Mr. Gant exploded.

“I told you Benjamin he was not one to be trusted.”

He continued as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I thought you had it all wrapped up.”

Benjamin replied.

“Yeah youze told Mary-Jo an me it was a done deal.”

Came a voice from the rear of the car.

“Will you please shut up Mr. Johnson?”

Mr. Gant said as he took his cell phone from his pocket and rapidly tapped in a number.

Jeb Clark’s phone range once before he snatched it out of his pocket and answered

“Yes.”

“Jeb its Aaron, what is happening in there today?”

Aaron asked as he continued to drum the fingers of his left hand on the steering wheel.

“Aaron I have no idea, I thought you told us you had them all on our side and we would have no trouble with this today?

“I know……, I know, Jeb I paid off the usual people and Ronson never talks …, he never gets involved, you know him he just goes with the flow.”

“Well something has put a bomb up his ass.”

Jeb replied curtly.

Clive was leaning against Jeb’s shoulder trying to listen in on the conversation.

“Will you get the fuck off of me Clive?”

Jeb yelled in a blast of frustration and stress.

Clive jumped and pulled away, he turned and sloped off like a scolded puppy.

“Now Aaron how do you propose we turn this thing around?”

Jeb asked of Aaron, Aaron thought for a moment before responding.

“Lets play on the benefits, you know community benefits of new jobs, …… times are hard and any opportunity to deliver new local jobs should be fully supported ….., can you have a word with any of our councilors and get them to steer the discussion away from hard zoning policy and towards local employment?”

Aaron replied, Jeb thought for a moment.

“Good thinking Aaron, I will grab a moment with Lavache and give her a quick briefing, Clive is going to stick solidly to his highways advice and I’ll bring up any commercial zoning policies that supports employment at every opportunity…. ,That is if we get another chance to speak?”

“Well lets hope we do Jeb, lets hope we do.”

Aaron ended his call and returned the cell phone to his pocket then quickly explained his conversation with Benjamin, Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo and did his best to calm his two clients as much as he could. Billy-bob just grunted a reply still fuming after being told to shut up by Mr.Gant and Mary-Jo just sat in dejected silence.

The quiet hush of the half empty committee room soon disappeared as the astonished members of the public started to talk in small groups, some got up to get a drink or use the rest room while Samuel just sat silently replaying the last ten minutes over in his mind, extracting all of the salient points made, readying himself for the debate once it continued. He was interrupted in his thoughts by a young woman holding a note pad and pen who approached him and asked to join him. He looked up and smiled

“Please take a seat.”

The young lady sat down next to him and introduced herself.

“Hi I’m Rebecca; I’m write the occasional piece for The Ville Platte Gazette.”

“Oh hello Rebecca…, I’m Samuel Kennedy I’m objecting to this application as you have no doubt seen…, are you writing a piece on this application?”

“No I wasn’t originally intending to, I’ve got a story that I’m working and trying to get it finished and out for tomorrow night which involves some of the people here today and just thought I would come along and see them in action, you know to put faces to names.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

Samuel answered with genuine interest.

“Yes it should be an interesting piece.”

Rebecca replied in a completely neutral manner, acknowledging his interest but not inviting any further questioning.

“Anyway seeing how this has evolved, you know the arguments and all I would like to write a short piece for the Gazette …, so can I ask you for your comments on this application?”

She asked siting with pen poised above her pad.

“Yes ok.”

Samuel replied before giving her a quick run through of his objections and also his views on the conduct of the application hearing so far which included his thoughts on Mr. Clark, Mr. Meek, Mr. Carouse, Mr Gant and the committee members themselves, he didn’t pull any punches. Rebecca scribbled her shorthand at lightening speed as he talked, stopping quickly here and there to ask Samuel to clarify points before asking him to continue. Once Samuel had fully explained his views and opinions he handed her a copy of his document of objections that he had sent to committee

“It’s all in there.”

He said as he handed over an A4 sized stapled document to her. She thanked him and also congratulated him on his presentation, she told him that she hoped justice was done and the decision went his way, before adding that if the editor decided to print, then it would not go out until next week as she had her other story to complete and hopefully get published.

As they chatted the door at the other side of the meeting room opened and announced the return of the committee members and officers. As they took their seats other members of the public ambled back in and sat down, in amongst these were Mr. Gant, Mr. Carouse, Billy-Bob and Mary-Jo.

“Well Rebecca it’s been a pleasure talking with you and I hope you get your story finished tomorrow, I’ll keep an eye out for it and hopefully your piece about today’s events will get into the paper next week.”

Samuel said, studying Gant as he walked past.

Thanks Mr. Kennedy and here’s hoping.”

She said as she stood up before making her way back to her seat at the far end of the public seating.

The chairman spoke into his microphone and asked everyone to settle so that they could get on with proceedings. Samuel listened intently as hush descended on the room and the chairman spoke into his microphone again.

“I am of the opinion that we have had ample discussion and questioning regarding this application, unless any committee members have anything to add I think we should proceed to determining this application.”

 Aaron Gant looked around in an agitated fashion, he caught Benjamin Carouse’s eye who was looking concerned and on edge, Billy-Bob sat motionless staring straight ahead while Mary-Jo bit her nails relentlessly. Jeb Clarke swore under his breath

“Fuck, Fuck!”

And Clive Meek sat next to him just shaking his head from side to side.

There was a little minor decent from Councilor Lavache, but the chairman’s comment was more of a direction rather than inviting further discussion, while Councilor Lavache  muttered away the remainder of the committee members nodded in agreement. Silence descended on the stifling gathering, apart from the whir of the overhead fans all was quiet for a few seconds until one of the committee members on the back row stood and announced.

“I declare that this application should be granted and propose to committee that it is granted for Mr. Johnson to provide local employment in Lokchapi.”

Four heads on the back row of the committee nodded in agreement.

“Do I have a person to second this proposal?”

The chairman asked,Councilor Lavache’s hand shot up immediately

“Auh do.”

She said with sneer that would have been worthy of Kaa, the snake in The Jungle Book.

“Let’s vote on this motion the…., all in favour please raise a hand.”

The chairman said as he surveyed the faces of the committee members to his left. Five hands, all on the back row shot up.

“I make that five in favour.”

The chairman announced. Aaron Gant shot a worried look across the room towards Jeb Clark. Jeb sat motionless staring straight ahead with a grim unmoving poker face on. He was as worried as Aaron, Benjamin and Clive but showed no emotion, there was little he could do now, just hope that things work out as they all wanted them to. Mary-Jo was now chewing the skin around her nails like an obsessed rodent.

“All against.”

The chairman continued, slowly hands raised, one on the back row and four on the front.

“I make that five against.”

He continued as he noted the result down on the document in front of him.

“Abstentions?”

He announced into his microphone. This time the remaining two hands on the front row raised in unison.

“I make that two abstentions, motion not carried, do we have another proposal?”

He asked of the committee. The hairs on Samuel’s neck rose as his senses identified a change in atmosphere, he was alert and focused, his mind took in every word, gesture, look or movement within his area of vision, to Samuel time seemed to slow.

A councilor on the front row spoke in response.

“Yes I propose that we refuse this application and I think that the application runs contrary to more than one of our local zoning policies as well as contravening very strict National Park policies…, I am also at a loss as to how this application got this far as I would personally have refused it at the first stage. I have read it and the accompanying zoning report in detail and would concur with Mr. Kennedy that both the application and the zoning report contain misleading and completely untrue information and view these two documents as nothing more than sales leaflets for the applicant…, I propose that we refuse the application.

There were disgruntled noises made by committee members on the back row as the chairman leaned forward again to speak into his microphone.

“DoI have a person to second this proposal?”

A hand on the front row shot up,

“Let’s vote on this motion then…., All in favour please raise a hand.”

Five hands on the front row raised then slowly a six on the rear row was raised to join them.

“I make that six in favour.”

The chairman announced. Aaron Gant shot another worried look across the room towards Jeb Clark. Jeb was now staring down at the floor in front of him. Mary -Jo was still chewing the skin around her nails like an obsessed rodent and shaking a little.

“All against.”

The chairman continued, five hands on the back row shot up, the chairman waited a few seconds before announcing

“I make that five against.”

 “Abstentions?”

He announced into his microphone. This time the one remaining committee member on the front row raised her hand.

“I make that one abstention, motion carried, six votes to five with one abstention, Mr. B Johnsons application, Lokchapi number 73425 is herby refused.

Samuel sat momentarily stunned, against all odds the decision had gone in his favour.

Jeb Clarke repeatedly swore under his breath and fired looks of utter hatred across the room towards committee member Ronson who returned the looks with a beaming Cheshire cat like smile. Shouts of dismay erupted from Mary-Jo’s mouth as she realised the implication of the vote.

“Billy-bob we gone lawst ourne alligator farm.”

She screamed, as tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Billy-Bob leaped to his feet and grabbed Mr. Gant by the scruff of his linen suit and started to drag him out of the meeting room.

“Youze mother fuckin pig sucker…If brains was dynamite you couldn’t blow yuh nose…., I gived you all that money, way over tin thousan dollars an you said all was taken care of.”

He continued to shout as he tussled with Aaron Gant. Aaron tried his best to smother what Billy-Bob was shouting as they scuffled.

“What yuh dun with ourne money? D’yuh think I’m as dumb as a bag o’hammers?”

Billy-Bob shouted into Mr. Gant’s ear as the scuffling pair neared the door, Benjamin Carouse belatedly made an attempt to split the struggling pair up and try and silence Billy-Bob, but immediately came under a ferocious rain of kicks and blows expertly delivered by an enraged Mary-Jo.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please…, please! Can we conduct ourselves properly?”

The chairman shouted into his microphone, without success as now three men and a woman continued to struggle, shout and cuss in a mass of legs and arms all the way out of the meeting room into the car lot outside. Jeb Clarke was crimson faced in stark contrast to Clive Meek who sat besides him with an ashen white face. For the second time that morning the chairman declared a short break and again he and the officers and committee members filed from the room. The noise level within the room rose from a quiet murmur to a loud commotion of voices, chairs scraping and doors banging as people made for the exits and the relatively cooler air of outside.

Still slightly dazed Samuel got to his feet and drifted along with the animated crowd until he was out of the pressure cooker atmosphere of the meeting room and walking along in the slightly cooler glare of the early noon sun.

“Well done Mr. Kennedy.”

Came a voice from behind, Samuel turned to find Rebecca the young local reporter walking along behind him with a broad grin etched across her face.

He stopped to thank her.

“Thank you Rebecca, very kind of you to say…, I must admit I am still a bit shell shocked, I was hoping but not really expecting things to go my way… but they did.”

“They sure did…….., I must admit I haven’t been to many of these before, but the guy sat next to me is a reporter for KVPI radio and he said in thirty years of covering these meetings he has never seen such mayhem …., You should be proud of yourself Mr. Kennedy, and I definitely want to write this up for next week, so keep your eyes peeled.”

I’ll do that… good luck with your big story whatever it is and thanks again Rebecca.”

Samuel replied before turning and heading off towards his pickup.

He thought that he would have been elated to succeed in his mission to have the zoning application refused, but as he drove home he felt quite flat, he was hot and soaked in sweat from the stifling heat of the meeting room and felt utterly exhausted. The weather outside mirrored his physical and emotional state. It was hot and steamy, draining any and all strength after even the slightest exertion, the air was still and heavy and held within it the distant menace of a building storm which threatened the current calm.

By the time Samuel reached home his adrenaline levels had completely crashed and he was feeling not only tired but also slightly negative about the day’s events, a little anxious, sleepy and quite blank.

He got out of his pickup and walked across to his side gate where both Pooh and Moo where waiting, tails wagging, toys in mouths. Samuel opened the gate and closed it quickly behind him he then walked across the lawn to the rear door of SJ’s studio. As he walked his welcoming committee continued with their tail wagging welcome, Moo went out in wide circles wagging as he went and Pooh padded along  behind his master toy in mouth, tail wagging slowly and methodically from side to side.

Samuel knocked gently on the door and then popped his head into the studio.

“Good news SJ they refused it.”

He announced to SJ as she stood behind her seated customer scissors in hand.

“Oh well done Samuel.”

She said glancing over towards him before returning her gaze towards the reflection of her customer in the mirror.

“Well I just thought I’d let you know.”

Samuel said quietly, half to himself as he closed the salon door.

He didn’t quite know what he was expecting from SJ, but her initial response seemed quite muted, his shoulders noticeable sagged as he turned and trudged back across the lawn, up the steps to the verandah and out of the heat of the day into the cool of the kitc.

I hope you enjoy your reading. It is available on Kindle and a free copy can be borrowed for download at https://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Blue-Heron-Howard-Moore-ebook/dp/B00KK6BWLK..

Howard Moore

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