NOTE: If you haven’t been following this from the beginning, and if you want to know the full sequence of events, start with the introduction. Click on Archives on the right.
Lou invited me to the nominating meeting as an introduction to the community even though I have lived here only a few months and have yet to meet many of my neighbors. Albrecht Intaglio and I are both at our first nominating committee meeting, preparing for an election of new officers in April to the Fauxmont Water and Grounds Guild. The proceedings start with nominations for the Chairman’s position. Steve Strether and his wife Bel Vionnet are the only black couple in the community. “It is only liberal guilt that has kept Bel in the chairman’s position” says Albrecht . He can’t deny her effective leadership, but qualifies his assent on that point by adding “You liberals are just too lily-livered to oppose her.”
The meeting falls silent until Diddlie stammers out a response explaining how Bel Vionnet Strether has kept the Fauxmont Guild on track for a decade since Mr. Ramsey stepped down. Then Diddlie finds her stride and goes on praising Bel. “She has the tact, the wit and the energy to run those meetings and keep us all out of too much trouble with each other.” Diddlie is almost drowned out by rising calls from the dovecote and raises her voice. We are meeting in the Co-op building and the dovecote is a project for the preschool upstairs. “Bel kept the peace between Westwood North and Dick East over the expense of laying new water mains and again when Dick East and all those on Maxwell Avenue were so upset about the proposed building restrictions. She guided us through our disagreements. Then there are the militants in our Water Organization, with their vigorous clean water agenda and she knows how to cope with them too. I for one don’t feel any guilt at all.”
“You should. You should have more respect for liberty, democracy and the right to vote.”
Albrecht has adopted strong libertarian views since joining CUPA, the Campaign to Clean up America. He carries his long barreled revolver in a holster slung from his belt and strapped on his thigh. He has applied for a job in Senator Lee Leavenworth Knox’s committee on aesthetic crime. He doesn’t own a home in Fauxmont himself, but no one raised any objections when he joined the community nominating committee as a resident of his father’s house, although it has only been a few weeks since he returned from his latest visit out west. Those who had known him as he grew up in Fauxmont were full of praise for his finding a direction in life after his youthful troubles, and for his taking on some civic responsibility.
“Listen Al” said Lou. “We all respect the process, and so far the overwhelming majority of voters have voted for Bel. In fact I think it has been unanimous for the past ten years. Anyone in the community can be nominated, and run against her. It is just that no one has chosen to do so.”
“That’s the problem! Ten years! An entire decade!” said Albrecht glaring at Lou. For the best part of that time she has run unopposed, UN-opposed!” repeated Albrecht, growing more heated and the doves are quiet upstairs.
“Al” Lou begins but Albrecht jumps in.
“I would appreciate it if you’d use my real name which is Albrecht, not Al. Al Sharpton is Al. I am Albrecht, okay?”
“Fine Albrecht.” said Lou.
“How many people voted last time?”
“Sixty one if I recall.”
“Sixty one if you recall” said Albrecht “and there are over a hundred eligible to vote right?”
“A hundred and twenty three.”
“Speaks for itself doesn’t it?”
“It does?” asked Lou. “What does it say?”
The doves start up again, and there is a shriek. “That must be the macaw” said Diddlie. “Let me go up and feed those birds. Maybe they’ll settle down.” Diddlie scrapes her chair noisily and bangs up the boxed-in wooden stairs in her gardening boots.
Albrecht watches her in silence. When she has disappeared upstairs, he continues. “It shows how you people here at the central committee are controlling the vote. That is why I am the only conservative in the room. That is why I have to fight like hell just to be heard, and by God I can make plenty of noise when I need to.”
“It doesn’t show anything of the sort” said Hank Dumpty. There is a loud crack from his chair as he shifts his weight. A back leg has broken off, caught on the tile floor instead of sliding. We all jump at the sound, all but Albrecht.
Diddlie is clomping around on the old wooden floor above. I can’t tell if Hank is shouting in anger or to be heard above the noise. He has been shifting his three hundred pounds restlessly and his chair creaks more and more often as Albrecht’s questioning continues.
“What accounts for this reluctance to vote?”
“You’d have to ask around to find that out. I would guess, it is because no one felt they could do any better, and saw no need for change. People are very busy and don’t find time to get involved” answered Lou.
“I am here to tell you it is time for change” said Albrecht. “Everyone should be involved.” Diddlie comes down more quietly than she went up. The macaw is quiet, and the doves’ chatter is barely audible. She asks if he wants to make a nomination as she walks back to her seat.
Albrecht looks over towards Diddlie, “I thought you had left. Did you hear what I just said?”
“Yes I heard you think it’s time for a change, and figure you want to make a nomination.” Albrecht says he is nominating Boyd Nightingale. Diddlie sighs as she sits down.
“He is a very troubled young man you know Albrecht, are you sure?” asked Lou.
“Are you going to block my nomination?” asked Albrecht, putting his hand down by his revolver.
We are sitting in a circle on straight back wooden chairs. Lou has a stool in front of him with a pen and some papers on it. The rest of us hold our agendas in our hands or didn’t bother to bring them.
“No, no” says Diddlie, looking at her watch.
“No one is going to block your nomination, Albrecht” said Lou.
“You’re damn right” said Albrecht with a big smile.
“I second the nomination” says Diddlie. Looking at her watch again she suddenly excuses her self and leaves the meeting.
Albrecht nods at her and turns to Lou. “What do you mean, no one’s going to block the nomination? Why don’t you let people speak for themselves? Here you go again. This is the central committee at work. Are you chairman Mao or something?”
Hank Dumpty’s chair creaks more as he tries to balance on it’s three remaining legs. “You can nominate any one you like Albrecht, but don’t think you can influence my vote with that weapon.”
Albrecht pats his gun with a smile remarking that if he used it there would be one less liberal voter in the neighborhood. Diddlie, Rank Majors and Hank all speak at once. Albrecht tries to shout over them.
Lou, as chairman of the Committee, calls the meeting to order and asks if there are any more nominations. Rank Majors nominates Bel. Nominations for vice chairman and treasurer are taken and seconded. Lou asks if there is any other business. Rank Majors, moves immediately to adjourn the meeting.
Albrecht stands up and says he has plenty of other business.
“That’s fine” said Hank Dumpty. “I move we adjourn and meet again next week on the rest of the business. It’s five minutes to nine and we never run past nine.”
“We are going to tonight,” said Albrecht straightening his stance.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” said Hank Dumpty softly. “Get your ass and your weapon out of here and read the bylaws before you show up again.”
Hank stands up and carries his broken chair towards the door.
Albrecht giggles and stares at Hank’s back, stroking his holster. “I sure hope you’re going to put down the chair you broke, nice and peaceful, big guy.”
“Hank Dumpty carries on toward the door, ignoring the taunt, and puts the broken chair outside. He comes back, stands in the doorway, filling it, and says softly and gently, “Saddle up folks. I’ll lock the door.”
Albrecht moves slowly towards the door ahead of the rest of us, looking hard at Hank and pauses as close to him as he can get without touching him in the doorway. He can’t move through without squeezing past Hank’s belly. He turns back facing into the room to say “There was no vote on the last motion to close this meeting. Seeing how the big guy here is getting over-heated.” He gestures behind himself with a thumb pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll let it go this time, but don’t try and intimidate me again with your commie tactics. And you, new boy, he said pointing at me. Don’t let these Socialist bullies put you down. Speak up for yourself next time. I want to hear your voice.”
Hank stands still. He looks bored and he has one hand up behind his neck as if to ease some tension. His upper arm looks thicker than the thigh in Albrecht’s black jeans. If he brought it down hard in response to Albrecht’s ruction, Albrecht would go flying.
I hadn’t thought of it before, but he was right. I had not said a word all through the meeting, only raised my hand to vote silently. Then again, knowing so little about it, I felt more like an observer than a participant.
Hank moves out of the doorway back into the room, and moves his hand from his neck on to the door handle, waiting to close it when we are all out.
“Goodnight neighbors,” says Albrecht sweetly and walks out into the dark.
