Roz Fox - Annie's Neighborhood

It turned out that a series of fender benders caused by the rain played havoc with his good intentions.

The next day there were also several incidents that demanded his attention. By the end of a week fraught with headaches, Sky ran into the local café thinking he’d grab a take-out sandwich to eat in the car while he dashed by to inspect the paint jobs on Rose Arbor. They’d even caused chatter among his dispatchers and the two junior officers.

At the register where he handed over money to pay for his food, he happened to glance at a stack of flyers. They included a photo of the three homes he’d intended to visit. Sky snatched one up and perused it.

“Are you going to attend that meeting on Tuesday night, Chief Cordova?” the café manager asked as she gave him a brown bag with his sandwich and passed him a cup of steaming coffee.

“Huh?” He looked up from reading the flyer, which outlined all the points Annie had brought up earlier.

“The meeting at the library. I work a lot of hours, so I doubt I’ll get to go. Nobody I’ve talked to seems to know much about the woman who’s holding the meeting. Jim Morris said she’s Ida Vance’s granddaughter. You might’ve heard that Ida passed recently. She was a longtime do-gooder. She’d turn over in her grave at the thought of any relative of hers stirring up trouble in the town.”

When he’d finished reading, Sky folded the flyer and tucked it in his shirt pocket. “What makes you feel this meeting might stir up trouble, Joanne?”

The woman shrugged plump shoulders. “As a rule, folks around these parts don’t cotton to outsiders barging into our community, trying to tell us what to do.”

“In her introduction, Ms. Emerson points out that she was brought up in this town and that she’s inherited her grandmother’s home. Doesn’t that make her part of our community?”

“Not if she thinks she can throw around her fancy California ideas, it don’t.”

Sky saw he was on the losing end of this argument. And recalling that Annie had accused him of having it in for Californians, Joanne wasn’t voicing much he hadn’t said himself. “I should get back to work.” He hurried out to his cruiser. The first thing he did was drive down Rose Arbor. Even before he reached the first of two speed bumps that required drivers to slow down, Sky noticed cars ahead of him traveling well below the speed limit as their drivers gawked at the three “painted ladies.” In daylight, they were quite appealing. Sky tried imagining other streets with homes painted as tastefully. He hated to retract another set of objections. The other night he’d concluded to Koot and Sadie that mere paint would never boost the spirits in the neighborhood. Now he wasn’t so sure.

* * *

THE FOLLOWING TUESDAY, Sky’s initial plan was to run by his house at the end of his shift, change out of his uniform and sneak into Annie’s meeting. He’d act like a casual observer at the back of the crowd. As with too many of his well-laid plans, things didn’t go quite as he’d hoped. He had a man out sick, and the day presented an endless array of problems. It started with a group of half a dozen kids in the park. They’d skipped their first class, and had all contributed medicine from their households—both prescription and over-the-counter stuff—which they mixed together in a bowl and chugged with beer heisted from one dad’s fridge. Thank heaven someone saw them and reported their activity before they could swallow everything in the bowl.

Koot had helped transport them to the E.R., where medics checked the kids’ vital signs. A nurse hauled out the PDR and began matching pills to pictures in the book so they could identify the medications no longer in their original bottles. They all winced when an emergency room doctor ordered emetics.

Sky began the long process of calling parents, some of whom worked jobs they couldn’t leave, others who couldn’t be bothered to collect their little darlings. In between calls, he had to clean their vomit off his shoes. Five o’clock rolled around just as they handed over the last kid to a none-too-pleased stepmother.

Koot went home. Sky prepared to do the same, figuring he had time to shower and shave, and still make it to Annie’s six-thirty meeting at the library.

He hadn’t even reached the door when a call came in regarding a carjacking. “I’ll take it,” he told his dispatcher. “Koot’s off duty and on his way home. Notify Morales, will you? See if he can come in a little early and meet me there.”

Forty minutes later, Sky glanced at his watch as he signed the last report and turned the night shift over to Joe. It was seven-ten. He was closer to the library than his house. Even at that, it’d take him another ten minutes to get there—and he’d be arriving really late.

Sky drove straight to the library. He was sure he stank of sweat, and maybe still had vomit on the toe of one boot. Too bad. He wouldn’t sit in the back row. He’d stand in a shadowy corner, out of everyone’s way. According to Annie’s flyer, the meeting would end at eight-thirty. With luck he’d be there for the last forty-five minutes—the part with audience questions and Annie’s answers.

He’d attended a meeting in the community room on a few other occasions. Thank goodness he didn’t need to waste time hunting down the librarian to get directions.

The door to the room stood open. Sky softened his steps when he drew nearer so as to not disrupt the meeting. It was strangely silent inside the room, although he’d expected a controversial, maybe explosive give-and-take—his main reason for coming tonight. He wanted to make sure things didn’t get too heated and out of hand.

He peered into the room. A side table held a large plate heaped with what appeared to be homemade cookies. The room smelled pleasantly of fresh brewed coffee. Sky spotted a big urn on the same table. Beside it sat paper cups, cream, sugar and napkins. She was ready for a crowd. At the front of the room Annie rested her forearms on the podium. All around her in half circles stood rows of empty chairs. Not a single soul had come to her event.

He must have made a noise at the door, enough for her to lift her head. Their eyes met and Sky’s stomach tightened. He found himself deeply affected by the disappointment etched on her face.

“You must feel vindicated,” she said, indicating the vacant chairs. “You told me this was a foolish idea. What I can’t believe is that everyone stayed away.”

Sky stepped into the room. “I didn’t come to gloat. I came to keep the peace. After I saw your flyer, I thought you’d have a full house. Maybe it’s the time. Six-thirty is early for people who work downtown and travel by bus. They have to get home, prepare and serve a meal and catch a bus back out to a meeting. That’s why teachers at our schools start open house and parent meetings at eight.”

“I didn’t know that. So, you didn’t hear a rumor that people were warned off by anonymous phone messages from gang members?”

Sky tensed. “No. When? Where?”

“A coworker of Mike Spurlock’s claimed he received one of these calls late last night. Woke him up, he said, and he told Mike it was enough to make him stay away.”

“Where are the Gilroys and Spurlocks? Why aren’t they here to support you?”

“They’re already part of the renovation project. But to be totally truthful, they’ve been edgy since the break-ins.”

Sky felt edgy, too. He didn’t like hearing that the Stingers had issued threats. The leaders—and few gang members knew who they were—had a vested interest in keeping neighborhood kids who did their bidding under their thumbs. They definitely wouldn’t like the fact that one of the objectives on Annie’s flyer indicated that beautifying the neighborhood was part of a larger strategy aimed at renewing family values and banishing gang activity. “It doesn’t look as if anyone’s going to show up, Annie. Why don’t I help you clean up the room?”