The Difference Between You and Me(28)
“He’s right, though,” Esther says to Jesse. “The point is just to be. You don’t have to do anything besides be right here.”
***
By 12:55, Jesse has counted about twenty-five people who have honked or waved in support of peace. First Jesse’s right hand, then her left cramped up stiffly around the ruler handle taped to her NO TO WAR sign. Her feet have grown tingly from standing still so long. But she feels a kind of contented calm that she almost never feels. She can’t remember the last time she just stood in one place and watched the world go by. It’s surprising how few people she’s seen that she knows, even in this town that always feels so small to her. A whole hour of standing in front of the Town Hall and she’s recognized only a few people: Ms. Arocho from the library; Dr. Paul Klang, her dentist; Brianna from her dad’s office. Other than that, it’s all been brief flashes of people she doesn’t know. Kids, babies, teenagers, parents. Couples, old ladies, college guys. People walking with shopping bags, people running in short-shorts and earphones, people feeding meters, people holding hands. Dogs, dogs, dogs. The sun is warm on Jesse’s skin; the clouds skid smoothly across the blue overhead.
A low green hatchback covered in bumper stickers approaches and honks an enthusiastic rat-a-tattoo as it passes. Esther calls out, “Hi, Huckle!” and Huckle waves from the driver’s seat. Margaret and Charlie and Esther wave. Jesse waves. Twenty-six people.
“Hard to believe this is all headed for the crapper, this beautiful little town,” Arlo says darkly.
“That’s right,” Charlie grouses from the other end of the banner. He mutters: “Sonsofbitches.”
“Why is it headed for the crapper?” Jesse asks. “Who are sons of bitches?”
“Don’t ask him—” Margaret warns, but Charlie practically shouts over her, “Crooked town meeting members in the pocket of the big-box stores!”
“Don’t start!” Margaret bosses him, then turns back to Jesse. “You can’t mention StarMart within earshot of that man or he loses his mind. It makes him crazy how they’re sleazeballing their way in.”
“StarMart?” Jesse says. “But I thought they lost. I thought the Snope Christmas Tree Farm people said no.”
StarMart, the mega-retailer, had recently attempted to buy up farmland out on Route 10 to convert into a giant one-stop discount store, a hot topic of conversation for months in the Halberstam house. Even though Fran and Arthur were in complete agreement about how terrible it would be for the town if a big-box store moved in, they managed to argue about who was more right about how awful the fallout would be, and who had the better points about the damage StarMart would do. It ended when the Snope family made the front page of the local paper by refusing to sell StarMart their land.
“You haven’t heard?” Arlo says. “StarMart’s new plan is to try to force the Snopes into selling by putting pressure on every part of the town. Town meeting. The schools. I heard a couple of selectboard members have been offered bribes. Even the Francis Animal Shelter got a call from somebody over at NorthStar, promising a lifetime’s supply of Milk-Bones if NorthStar gets permission to build inside the town line. It’s a PR onslaught.”
“It’s true,” Esther agrees. “Ms. Filarski told me they’re sponsoring a bunch of athletic teams at Vander and giving money to fund the dance that’s coming up at school.”
“They figure if they make the deal irresistible enough to the town, people will put the screws to Frank and Jane Snope until they give in.” Charlie shakes his head in disgust.
“That’s why Charlie and I are starting a grassroots anti-StarMart organization,” Arlo says. “Right, Charlie? What are we calling it again?”
“People for the Preservation of Safe Small Towns. PPSST.”
“Wait, no, I thought it was FASST: Fighting Against Sprawl in Small Towns.”
“No, it was PPSST.”
“I think it was definitely FASST, or possibly Americans Against Unrestrained Retailer Growth? AAURG?”
“We haven’t come to consensus yet about a name, but we’re going to put the hurt to those sonsofbitches as soon as we decide on a name, you mark my words! If that store gets built it’ll be like all the other towns in America whose lifeblood has been drained out of them by bloodsucking multinational corporations!”
“All right, all right,” Margaret shouts him down. “Pipe down, darling!” To Jesse, she remarks, “I told you, he can’t stay calm when he talks about it. His doctor says it’s a stroke risk, and he’s not supposed to discuss it.”