Bentley Little - The Store

Bill didn't laugh. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Not yet."

They were silent after that. Street walked back into the kitchen, got himself another can of Budweiser. "So, gents," he said finally, "any plans for this evening?"

Ben looked at his watch. "Planning Commission. Actually, the meeting starts in fifteen minutes." He downed the rest of his beer. "I'd better start heading over there."

Street turned toward Bill. "What about you?"

"Same thing."

"What is this crap? I know why Ben goes to these things. It's his job. He has to. But you?"

"I like to know what's going on in my town."

Street snorted. "Since when?"

"Since I found out what an unreliable rag our friend here puts out."

"Hey!" Ben said. "I resent that!"

Street laughed. Too loudly.

"Why don't you come with us?"

"Pass." Street picked up his remote, turned on the TV. "I'm sure it'll be fascinating, but there's a one-star women's prison movie on cable. T and A wins out over civic responsibility every time."

"They'll be discussing The Store," Ben said.

"Yeah. That's just what I want to spend my night hearing about."

"I heard they'll be asking for rezoning and building approval. They want to sell groceries."

"They'll get their approval," Street said simply. "Fucking Planning Commission's in their fucking pocket, just like the council."

"Maybe you should speak out against it," Bill suggested. "It might help."

Street waved him away. "I'm no public speaker. Besides, just in case you haven't noticed, I'm feeling a little too happy right now. The last thing the local merchants need is a half-crocked electronics salesman talking for them."

He pressed the volume button on his remote. "I'm going to watch my cable while I can still afford it."

Ben stood, patted him on the back. "Take it easy, then. I'll let you know what transpires. And I'll drop by the store tomorrow. The paper needs some surge protectors. Ours are getting old."

Bill stood as well, leaving his half-finished can on the table. "I still need to get that old turntable fixed. I'll bring it by and we can go over it."

Street nodded gratefully. "Thanks, guys."

"Hey," Ben said, "we're friends."

Bill grinned. "Half my beer's left, too. It's all yours if you don't mind the drool. I backwash."

"No problemo." Street reached across the table, grabbed the can, swallowed its contents in one gulp.

Bill grimaced. "You're gross."

"Thank you."

Outside, the night was warm. The moon was out but not yet up, hovering somewhere beneath the level of the ponderosas, its light diffused in the eastern sky. Ben had walked but Bill had driven, and neither of them spoke as they headed out to his Jeep across the loudly crunching gravel of the driveway.

"We really should try to help him out," Ben said once they were in the vehicle.

"Yeah," Bill agreed. "We should."

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

As predicted, The Store was the main topic of conversation at the meeting.

There were only two people in the audience other than themselves, and though the Planning Commission met in the council chambers, it could have just as easily convened in a small conference room.

Fred Carpenter, the commission chairman, read aloud the text of the proposal to allow The Store to construct an addition to its existing structure in order to open a grocery department. The Store's property was currently zoned only to allow the selling of nonfood items, and the land would have to be rezoned to accommodate the proposed change in usage.

The chairman finished reading the proposal. "We will now open the subject up for discussion," he said.

Leander Jacobs raised his hand.

"The chair recognizes Commissioner Jacobs."

"I do not believe we should grant this rezoning request. Obviously, The Store intended to sell groceries all along. Decisions such as this are not made on the spur of the moment. They're made far in advance, back at the corporate office. The commission and the council should have been told of these intentions at the beginning. I feel that we were deliberately misled, and I do not think that we should rezone the property at this late date."

"That's all well and good," the chairman said. "But as you know, we've been given an ultimatum. If we don't rezone, The Store has threatened to leave town."

Bill's heart speeded up.

"Let 'em," Jacobs said.

The chairman looked at him. "Are you serious?"

"They won't leave. They have too much invested here. Call their bluff."

Yes, Bill thought. Show those bastards for what they are. He glanced over at Ben, caught the editor's eye. Ben was in his objective reporter's mode and looked noncommittal, but Bill felt unreasonably excited. For the first time, there was opposition to The Store by the powers that be, and he sensed an opportunity here. They might not be able to make The Store retreat, but maybe they could stop its progress.

Graham Graves raised his hand.

"The chair recognizes Commissioner Graves."

"I support the rezoning proposal. Allowing The Store to expand is in Juniper's best interest. This new grocery department will bring in fifteen new jobs. Five of them full-time."

Jacobs snorted. "And it'll take away thirty. Come on, Graham. You know as well as I do that it'll put Jed's market out of business. Buy-and-Save can't survive that kind of competition."

"Then he'll have to lower his prices. If his groceries are cheaper, people will shop at his store."

"First of all, you should excuse yourself from this vote. You've had it in for Jed ever since he broke up with Yolanda."

"That's a lie and you know it --"

"Gentlemen. Gentlemen!" The chairman banged his gavel. "We are not here to discuss prices or marketing strategies or personal affairs. We are here to address the question of whether or not The Store should be allowed to sell groceries."

Bud Harrison, the Planning Commission's quietest member, spoke up. "Can we look at the schematics for the addition?"

"I was just about to suggest that." The chairman stood and walked around the dais to where an overhead projector sat on a movable stand next to the wall.

He wheeled the projector around, plugged it in, and motioned for Graves to dim the lights. A schematic drawing of The Store and its property was projected on the opposite wall.

Carpenter glanced around the council chambers as if searching for someone, and at that moment the door to the room opened. A young man dressed in an expensive three-piece suit strode down the main aisle of the chambers, nodded, smiling to the chairman, and pulled a pencil from his pocket. Carpenter returned to his seat, and the man, identified as "Mr. McBride, a representative of The Store," spent the next half-hour going over the schematic and explaining The Store's expansion plans.

"Thank you, Mr. McBride," Carpenter said when the Store representative had finished answering questions from the commission.

Mr. McBride nodded, bowed, and promptly walked out of the council chambers.

"Isn't he even going to stick around and see how it turns out?" Bill whispered.

"Weird," Ben admitted.

Carpenter looked at his fellow commissioners. "We've heard all the information we need; I suggest we put it to a vote."

Bill stood. "Aren't you going to open discussion to members of the public?"

The chairman stared at him. "I didn't think there'd be any discussion from members of the public."

"You thought wrong."

Carpenter's jaw tightened. He started to mouth a rebuke, then apparently thought better of it and nodded. "Very well, Mr. Davis. You have three minutes."

Bill glanced down at Ben, who shot him a look of encouragement. "From those plans," he said, "it appears as though the new grocery addition is going to be built behind the existing building."