Nathan Jones - First Winter

“Thanks for the pep talk,” he said with a wry smile for the former Mayor. It had only jangled his nerves even more, but it was good advice and he appreciated it.

“Break a leg,” Catherine replied, smiling back. Then she glanced at the makeshift platform and winced. “Oh.”

With the older woman providing escort and moral support Matt made his way to the hastily constructed stage, silently nodding or gesturing for patience at the questions that came his way. While Lucas held the pallet steady he carefully climbed atop it, relieved to find it felt firm under his feet. Then he stared out over the large crowd, ostensibly waiting for a few final stragglers as he gathered his thoughts.

“All right,” he called in the calmest, clearest voice he could manage. He was a bit worried when the crowd was slow in quieting down to listen; even the town meetings in Aspen Hill’s auditorium had rarely drawn this many people.

Of course, back then they were just talking about boring things like mutual defense and survival. No surprise that the subject of food had drawn real interest.

He had to call a few more times before the gathering fell silent. Matt waited patiently until the buzz was down to manageable levels, then continued. “I’m sure you all know by now that the military has sent us food.” Considering they’d all just watched the trucks being unloaded, that prompted a mingled outburst of laughter as well as cheering.

Matt decided to wait it out, which took almost half a minute. “The unexpected aid is a lifesaver, but it doesn’t solve all our problems. As it is each person has been given food for six months, which likely won’t be enough to last the winter. I’ve also been advised that this is a one time thing. No more will be coming.” He raised his voice. “I’ll repeat that. No more will be coming! We’re on our own now.”

One of the rescued prisoners who’d come back with the volunteers, Matt thought his name was Grant, spoke up from near the front. “I heard we got rations for more people than the town has. What happens to the extra?”

Matt felt a moment of annoyance. He’d been hoping to bring that up a bit later, after covering a few other things. “We’re still deciding that.”

“What do you mean, you’re deciding that?” a woman near the back shouted. “You just told us we each won’t get enough to last the winter. We have extra, so split it up so we all have a bit more!”

That, unfortunately, was the reasonable argument where individuals were concerned. But like Catherine had said Matt wasn’t responsible for individuals, he was responsible for the entire town.

He bit back a sigh. “Everyone in town has been preparing for winter. Some have been able to prepare better than others, and a few even have enough with the six months extra rations to eat until spring. Do we want to share it out evenly, so some will have more than they need while others still won’t have enough?”

That drew another uproar. “Hold on!” Gutierrez shouted over the commotion. “Are you saying the better prepared should be punished for hard work and foresight? That seems like a great way to incentivize laziness.”

Matt gave his friend a wounded look. It was a reasonable question, especially considering how the former soldier had received so little from the town after giving so much. Still, it would’ve been nice if his own buddies weren’t lobbing rotten fruit from the peanut gallery.

Ben Thompson was quick to challenge that, mostly since after all this time he was still the nominal leader of the refugees who’d joined the town last fall. “You want to call the disabled, the elderly, and children who can’t provide for themselves lazy?”

Gutierrez reddened. “Of course not,” he snapped. “But you can’t create a fair system when you force those who work to provide for those who don’t, no matter the excuse. It’s doomed to collapse as more and more people decide they want to be one of those who don’t.”

From the front of the crowd Grant raised his voice again. “We’re not debating political systems here, we’re talking about food!” There was a roar of approval.

Matt rubbed at his forehead, even though he knew it wasn’t a very mayoral gesture. How had Catherine put up with this for so long? “I’m not talking about forcing anything!” he shouted. “The food will be distributed fairly. All I’m asking is if the town wants to save the excess for those who need it most, once things start going bad.”

That started another tumult. Those who weren’t in a good position now, and likely would need help before the winter was over, were arguing loudly in favor of the town keeping the extra for charitable purposes. Those who saw a possibility that the food would be unfairly distributed argued even more vehemently against it.

Matt didn’t like dramatic gestures, but no matter how loudly he shouted the townspeople ignored him. They weren’t getting anywhere like this. So he drew his 1911 and pointed it in a safe direction, firing a shot to get everyone’s attention. It was a near criminal waste of ammo these days, but it did the trick.

A few people saw what he was doing in time to cover their ears, while more shouted in surprise or dropped to the ground fearfully at the loud noise. After which near total silence settled.

Lucas, still holding the packing pallet steady, cleared his throat. “I know that works in the movies, son, but I’d call that highly irresponsible to do in real life just to get a crowd’s attention.”

Matt had a feeling the older man was right. He tried to hide his embarrassment as he holstered his pistol. “You all supported the decision to name me Mayor after Mrs. Tillman stepped down,” he said into the quiet. “I’d appreciate it if you’d at least let me finish talking before you put words in my mouth.”

The silence stretched on, somewhat sullen, and Matt continued. “I’d like to remind you of a few things. First off, the town is more than just the consensus of the townspeople. It has to be, otherwise why would the defenders who defeated the raiders have given most of the raiders’ weapons and other equipment to the town? Why would myself and the others who went after the Norman family’s herd of sheep have given most of them to the town? Why would the volunteers who brought back hundreds of blockhead weapons and ammunition and other gear have donated it to the town, which then distributed much of it to families who needed those weapons for hunting and defense? Why would Tillman’s Hardware and Sporting Goods have donated most of their stock to the town, as well as the building itself to be used for the storehouse? Why would numerous townspeople have donated their surplus to be given to the needy?”

A low murmur started. Matt hurried to continue before it could get out of hand again. “Yes, ideally things given to the town should be distributed evenly to everyone, if that was the intent of the giver and the best thing for the town. However, where things are given unconditionally to the town, they then become the town’s property to use to aid those most in need. Nobody’s had a problem with this so far, when many, many people have benefitted from the sacrifices of the brave men and women who fought to protect us for very little reward.”

The murmuring continued, equal parts guilty and sullen. “Now,” Matt continued. “The resources the town does have are available to trade. Say, for instance, with those who have an excess of food but lack other necessities. And the town continues to accept donations from those who have excess, to be used for charitable purposes. And the town has and will in the future purchase excess resources for what basically amounts to IOUs. And when the town lends out weapons for hunting and receives a portion of the meat in return, that meat is distributed to those who need it most and are least equipped to provide for themselves. That goes the same for the livestock in the town’s possession. It all works because people are willing to look beyond themselves for the benefit of everyone.”