The Librarianist

BOB WAS GIVEN HIS DAILY DOLLAR AND THE HANDBILLS; HE WAS instructed to move about the town and pass these to whomever he might and to generally, so much as he was able within what Ida called the limitations of his secluded personality, induce the public to attend the coming performance. He was asked to bring the dogs, and to undress and tidy them before leaving; he proposed that their outfits could not but pique the public’s interest, which Ida and June did recognize as true and wise, and so Buddy and Pal remained in costume for the length of their outing. When Bob stepped onto the porch of the hotel he saw a second convoy passing on the highway, and in the same southerly direction as the first; each of the covered trucks was tightly packed with glum-faced National Guardsmen, rifles sticking up between their legs. A group of fifty citizens was gathered along the side of the highway, watching and waving at the caravan.

The sheriff stood beside his patrol car, which was parked out front of the market across the road from the hotel. After the caravan passed, the sheriff blew his horn and spoke into a PA mic run through a speaker atop his vehicle: “I’d like a word, please,” he said, and the men and women walked all together to stand before him. Bob shuffled himself into the crowd, following along with the rest. There was a lot of chatter coming up, and the sheriff took off his hat and waved it above his head. When the crowd quieted, the sheriff put his hat back on and spoke into the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, good day, hello. As you’ve probably figured out for yourselves, we’ve got a situation on the stovetop in Bay City, and you’re going to want to avoid that location for however long it takes for things to cool off down there. I don’t know how long that’ll be, but tonight’s looking iffy, and you’d do well to sit tight and await, as they say, further instruction. I don’t believe there’s very many among us interested in taking part in any disturbances; what I’m thinking of, what I’m hoping to avoid — what I’m asking of you, neighbors, is that you curtail any impulse to rubberneck or lookie-loo. You think you could do that for me?”

A voice called out: “But what’s it all about, Sheriff?”

The sheriff said, “Few different things that’ve been going on for some time. There’s two different lumber camps set up in the hills above Bay City, couple hundred men to a camp, and they’re pretty much on top of one another out there, and with no law around to keep them on the right side of mischief. Bay City has very little to offer on the order of nightlife, nowhere for the boys to blow off steam, and they’ve been getting a little weird out there. Started out they were playing practical jokes, right? One camp against another, but nothing too terrible. Then, over the months, the jokes’ve become less funny, and as you may’ve heard there was an incident yesterday in one of the camps involving some heavy machinery that did look more than a little like sabotage, and which did result in one fatality, and another man got his back broken. Both of these fellows have or had wives and children, and the entire affair is sitting poorly with certain of the lumbermen. Also it happens that there’s an ongoing scuffle about lumber contracts and title disputes, namely, who gets to chop down all those giant firs behind the Gustafson property. This is more to do with the higher-ups than the men on the ground but the negotiations have been pretty mean I’m told, and that type of venom has a way of trickling down, right? Right. Tonight’s the night I figure it’s all going to come to a head one way or the other. Any rate. The intelligence we’ve got says they’re planning a showdown in the center of town.”

Another voice: “Man on the radio said it was going to be a riot, Sheriff.”

The sheriff said, “Yeah, I heard that too. And I wouldn’t be surprised if it comes true. I also wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t. They got eight or nine truckloads of soldiers polishing up their rifles in Bay City as we speak. If those lumber boys want trouble, it will be made available to them.”

“What do you think, Sheriff?”

“What do I think what, Ted?”

“What way you think it’ll go?”

“I really don’t know, buddy, on account of my crystal ball’s on the fritz. My hope is that these lumber boys’ll lose interest in killing each other when they see all the soldiers aiming guns at them. But they’ve been mutating in those camps for long enough I figure anything can happen. Maybe they’ll decide to go all in. Time to time, a man likes to set things on fire. Or that’s been my experience.”

“You’re heading to Bay City tonight, Sheriff?”

“Yes, Charlie, I’ll be going over just now.”

“You need any deputies?”