Discord in Van Kaan

Author’s Note: This story, while based on cues from actual places and events, is entirely fictional.

 

The headlights caught the red and yellow “No Aquatic Center” sign planted in the middle of the yard along Washington Street as the car turned in. The horn blared from the driveway.

“Get out here, you old codger,” the driver shouted out the open window between blows.

“Hold your horses!” the old man yelled from the front door.

“Joe, get out here now. We’ve got to get the front row!”

The old man in his khaki, over-washed trench coat shuffled to the car. Just as he got to the rear passenger door a voice shouted from next door.

“Old man Miller! It’s a little late for you to be going out, isn’t it?”

“Up yours, Finley,” he shouted back.

The neighbor pulled up the red, white and blue sign with the big red check in the “Yes” box and hoisted it over his head. “Right here, Joe.”

“Communist,” the old man muttered as he plopped into the back seat and slammed the door.

The crowd had started to gather outside the high school gymnasium doors almost an hour before the town council meeting was to begin. Not since Van Kann lost the 60-year distinction of being the only place in the world that produced Liederkranz cheese had there been such controversy in this town of 10,844.

The regular council chambers had been abandoned because of the intensity of the battle of whether or not to build an aquatic center in Van Kann. Lines of Biblical proportions had been drawn – brother against brother, sister against sister, dads against sons, mothers against daughters. The only thing worse than those on the other side were those who chose no side at all. They bore the scorn of everyone.

When the doors opened at 6:45 the crowd of young and old, rich and poor filed in and sat largely divided with the ‘yes’ group on the right and the ‘no’ group on the left. The three old men wearing trench coats were quick to take three seats front and center of the fold out tables at one end of the gym where the council members were seated. The tension was palpable with grumblings about the ‘liberal spend thrifts’ on one side and ‘right wing obstructionists’ on the other echoing off the block walls and wood floor.

At 7:00 sharp the gavel of Council President Scott Stewart hit the sounding block on the table three times echoing around the building and quieting the crowd. President Stewart called the meeting to order and asked the pastor of the Presbyterian Church to open with prayer. Pastor Mullen was never very prophetic but his plea could not have been more illuminating for what was to come.

“Lord, God. We come to you tonight as a town of families, friends and neighbors seeking direction for our future. We thank you for all the opinions and different points of view you allow us to have. We thank you for making us a strong community, one that can weather any adversity that comes our way. May this meeting be a sign of our strength and a witness to all that Van Kann is a great place to call home. Amen.”

President Stewart started the meeting.

“As we all know, it has been proposed that Van Kann build a $3 million aquatic center. Tonight we are gathering one last time before the November ballot vote to discuss this project in a civil forum.”

Laughter and more than a couple of coughs emanated from the crowd.

“With that we’ll open the floor for discussion,” President Stewart said with a note of hesitancy in his voice. “The board calls Mrs. Helen Albright to speak.”

Mrs. Albright stood and approached the tables. She turned and addressed the crowd.

“As everyone knows, the aquatic center is very near and dear to my heart. My son…”

“Yeh, yeh. Your son got a swimming scholarship to Indiana,” Tom Fowler yelled from the middle of the room. “What does that have to do with stealing my money to pay for some fancy swimming pool?”

The left side of the room gave a hearty cheer. The gavel smacked the sounding block twice and all quieted down after a few seconds.

“Mrs. Albright,” President Stewart said as delicately as possible. “We all appreciate your personal commitment to this project but I think we’d like to hear the details of the project to start off.”

“Well, okaaaay,” she replied with a tinge of annoyance. “This is not any ordinary swimming pool.”

“You bet your behind it ain’t. Three million dollars and it ought to be gold plated and filled with milk and honey,” Joe shouted from his front row seat.

President Stewart raised the gavel again but Joe gave a flick of his right hand toward him with a look of contempt and Mrs. Albright continued.

“This facility will be one of the best in middle Indiana with a beach-like entry to the pool, a waterslide, water fountains, play equipment, a competition pool, and a children’s play area. It will have a concession area and facilities for birthday parties, anniversaries, or other celebrations. It will be a great source of pride for our community.”

Jim Good stood and shouted from the back, “Hey, that sounds like a good slogan:  Van Kann – Home of the Decadent Swimming Hole.”

Half the room broke out into laughter while the other sat stone-faced.

“Sit down, Jim,” shouted Barry Albright.

“Barry, you’re nothing more than a yes man for that wife of yours. We know who wears the pants in your house.”

Jim’s wife gave him a good kick on the ankle and mouthed “Sit down.”

“I was finished talking anyway,” he muttered as he sat back down.

“Thank you, Mrs. Albright,” President Stewart said.

Council member Janet Freedman leaned forward to her microphone and raised her finger.

“Go ahead, Councilwoman Freedman,” President Stewart said.

“I believe that what Mrs. Albright is describing is a place where people of all ages can have fun.”

The three old men in trench coats stood in unison. “We couldn’t agree more,” Joe shouted as they unbuttoned their coats and let them drop to the floor.

“Good Lord!” the pastor screamed, followed by a collective groan from everyone in the gym.

There in front of everyone were three shriveled, skinny, refrigerator-white bodies with tanned arms and necks. All three were wearing nothing but Speedo swim briefs, brown socks and wingtips.

“You want your swimming pool for all people,” Joe declared, “then this is what you get.”

“Come on, Joe, we don’t want to see that!” Frank Jansen, mayor of Van Kann pleaded.

“What? We’re ready to swim!” Joe replied.

President Stewart cupped his hand over his microphone and turned to council member Brian Foltz beside him. “Okay, maybe this pool isn’t the best idea.” Foltz gave a hearty laugh.

The three old men sat down, smiling. “If you can’t beat ‘em,” Joe said to his friends, “Join ‘em, and then beat the pants off of ‘em!”

It was a good minute or two before the grumbling and whispering died down. Very few noticed the mayor’s 89 year old mother rise from her chair on the far right side of the front row, walk over to the left side and take a seat beside Joe with a twinkle in her eye.

“Mama!” the mayor shouted from the table. She was too busy looking Joe up and down to hear her son.

“Okay, folks, we’ve got to get this meeting back on track,” Stewart said. “Mayor Jansen.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Jansen replied giving a look of disgust toward his swooning mother.

“This aquatic center will mean a lot for our community. The property is already city-owned so there are no acquisition costs, fees will take care of future maintenance and operating expenses, and $1 million has been donated for future needs. The average citizen will only pay just over $30 a year to build it.”

Fowler stood and shouted, “Everybody knows the numbers never turn out like you tell us. You guys are all wet.”

No one had noticed the Miller twins sneak into the back of the room, backpacks in hand. Had they known, surely someone would have kept an eye on them.

The first two water balloons hit the floor just shy of the council tables spraying water all over the feet of the council members. Screams came from the front as council members scrambled backward from the table. The two following rounds hit people on the front row as they stood to look back at where the chaos had originated.

Sheriff Charles Barnes and his deputies, seated strategically on the outside aisles, darted toward the twins who put their hands quickly into the air.

By the time they got to the boys Stewart was banging his gavel as hard as he could on the table.

“Order! Order! Get those delinquents outta here!” he yelled.

Ben Miller stood up and turned toward the back of the room. “Charlie, you better not lay a hand on my boys! I don’t care if you are Sheriff.”

Ben had been a fullback at Van Kann High and went on to play for Indiana before returning to the family farm. Barnes knew better and sat himself and his deputies down on the back row opposite the boys to keep them in check.

The council made their way back to the tables. Mayor Jansen continued, this time in campaign mode.

“Folks, we know this is a lot of money and we certainly don’t take that lightly. What we are talking about is a commitment to our future. People will come from everywhere to visit this facility. They’ll spend money to get in and to buy concessions but they’ll also stop for gas at our convenience stores or meals at our restaurants. We need this swimming pool to attract attention to Van Kann.”

Just then the double doors at the back of the gym opened. Jennifer Mullen, eldest daughter of Pastor Mullen, was a senior at Ball State and her younger sister Grace was a freshman at Butler. When the doors clanked open part of the crowd had turned to look at who was coming in but it was the “Oh my Lord” from devout church member Ms. Mace that caused the rest of the crowd to snap their heads backwards.

The click-clacking of high heels on the wood floor was the only sound in the room as everyone stared at the more-than-a-little attractive Mullen girls wearing bikinis walking toward the rows of chairs.

While everyone was looking toward the door, the Miller boys had snuck out the last of the water balloons. When they realized everyone was turned looking in their direction they looked around aimlessly as if they weren’t the target of everyone’s stares.  As the Mullen girls walked toward the back row of seats, the boys’ eyes locked on to the objects of everyone’s attention and their jaws and balloons hit the floor.

Jennifer’s foot hit the sprawling puddle of water and slipped from under her. Being the chivalrous type, Sheriff Barnes jumped out of his seat and lunged toward the falling young lady. From somewhere on the right side of the room, Mrs. Barnes shouted, “Remember what Miller said about those hands!” His foot hit the water and sent him down on his back with a loud bang. Jennifer caught Grace’s arm before hitting the floor.

As the girls walked through the middle aisle heads turned as they approached the front. Bob Parker, one of the organizers of the campaign against the aquatic center, declared “Vote yes!” as the Mullen girls passed. He nearly fell forward when his wife Janie’s right hand connected with the back of his head with a thump heard throughout the silent room. It turned out he was just reading the words printed on the backsides of the girls’ bikinis.

If looks could kill, the future of Van Kann would have taken a drastic turn for the worse that night as wives and girlfriends silently warned their other halves to avert their stares.

As the Mullen girls sat down on the right front row, one of the old men in Speedos jumped up and declared, “I change my vote!”

Stewart sat arms folded and resting on the table the whole time. He finally grabbed the gavel and wacked the sounding block as hard as he could.

“Folks, this is not a three-ring circus. We’re acting like a bunch of clowns!”

Matthew Houck stood up and pointed straight at Stewart. “What do you mean by that, Scott?”

A collective grimace spread around the room. Everyone knew where this was going.

“Come on, Matthew. You know what I mean,” Stewart said.

“I know what you mean. You’ve got something against clowns!” Houck yelled. “I’ve been one of your biggest campaign supporters and been behind you on this all the way. To find out what you really think of those of us who bring happiness and joy to kids everywhere is appalling.”

Matthew Houck was a clown. His day job was running one of the town’s busiest convenience stores but on nights and weekends he transformed into Bootsie the Clown, Van Kann’s number one attraction for children’s parties. For him, clowning was his life’s calling. Owning a convenience store paid the bills. He was a staunch supporter of the aquatic center not only for its entertainment value but because he anticipated a sharp rise in group parties because of the new facility.

Stewart had crossed a line with that slip of the tongue and everyone in the room knew it.

“Yeh, Stewart,” Josh Henderson prodded, standing right behind Houck. “I’d like to know what you mean by that!”

“Who else do you have something against?” asked Lizzie Banter from the left side. “Maybe you have something against women, too!”

If anyone had been looking they would have noticed Pastor Mullen coming out of his invisible shell now that the attention had shifted from his daughters.

“President Stewart,” Mullen said. “I think we all need to take a step back and look at this.”

“We’ve already seen enough in this room, pastor,” Stewart said.

Ms. Mace shot from her chair. “You leave those darling little girls out of this!”

“Now, now…wait a minute,” Stewart defended.

“You wait a minute,” Barry Albright shouted, projecting his finger at Stewart. “This was about a fair fight and you’re playing dirty – making fun of clowns and insulting two fine young ladies.”

“No, no, no,” Stewart responded. “I didn’t mean it that….”

“It sure sounds you like meant it,” Joe said from the front row. “Maybe you don’t like old people either!”

The crowd was getting riled on both sides now. There was a lot of talk all over the audience and council members were looking nervous.

Council member Steve Harris leaned forward. “President Stewart, I think we need to end this conversation.”

“End it!” Barry Albright said. “It’s just getting started.”

“Not one more dime for you, Scott!” Houck shouted. He turned to his wife and said, “We’re leaving.”

The three old men on the front row stood, put their coats on and walked down the center aisle after the Houcks. Amidst the mumbling and grumbling, families, friends, and neighbors stood up and made their way out of the gym.

There was nothing more to be said. The outcome, it seemed, wouldn’t matter one way or another to anyone. Sure, the yard signs would stay up and the vote would be held but this was the end of the discussion.

And so ended the discord in Van Kann.