THE STUDENT COUNCIL
Chapter 14

Amy’s wake-up rooster was actually a red-headed woodpecker. Its crow was a jackhammer blast on the trunk of a tall oak near her window. She yawned and took in the view around her: the ancient oversized bedroom set; the flowered wallpaper; the deep red velvet draperies; and the sconces on the walls. Her father had offered to renovate the room and update the furnishings, but the bedroom remained the way the former homeowner left it. Amy couldn’t imagine waking up to anything else. Why mess with perfection?

Her devotion to the past had limits, however. She unplugged her iPhone from the charger and turned on the telephone on the nightstand. Her last message of the night had come from William. Mall can work! Call me! It was now nine-eighteen. She had slept almost twelve hours, her first fitting rest in weeks.

The home phone rang and she answered. The caller was Fred Waltz. “Amy, I just wanted to check with you.”

She had been meaning to call Leo Sykes back. Her plate was maybe a little too full. “Good thing you called, Fred. I was trying to remember where Crater Lake National Park is.”

His laugh came from deep in his throat. “Oregon, of course. Established in nineteen hundred and two. Deepest lake in the country and famous for the clear blue water. Twenty-five hundred and thirty-four miles from the farm. Thirteen miles less from here!”

“Very good.”

“I called about the you know. Is it all gone?”

“It will be. Don’t worry. Things have been out of control because of that fire.”

“I can’t believe Noah really did it,” Fred said. “I thought it was all BS when he told you he was going to burn it down.”

Her heart skidded to a stop. Were Fred’s ears oversized too? “I heard no such thing. I would have told the principal.”

“You said he’d be a hero.”

Now her heart started sprinting. “You misunderstood. Noah was talking about a bonfire at the creek. Have you said anything about this to anyone else?”

“There is no one else. You’re my only friend so far.”

Amy drew a deep breath, then another. “That’s very lucky for you ... that you didn’t say anything.” She had to close his lips for good. “If you said something now, even about what you thought you heard, you’d get in serious trouble for not reporting it. You’d probably be expelled from school and lose your inheritance.”

Fred gasped on the other end. “I didn’t think he was serious! Like you said, I must have heard it all wrong.”

“Believe me, Fred, you heard it wrong. Never even think it again.”

“Thanks again for being my friend, Amy.”

“And that problem at your farm? It will disappear by the end of the week. That will always be our secret, right?”

“That’s right.”

“What was the name of that National Park in Ohio you told me about?”

“Cuyahoga Falls.”

“Yes. Let’s go up there and see it one of these days. Would you like that?”

William and Google sat on the Westin patio, both alert and animated, both talking at the same time. Amy teased that their pants were on fire. “You’re going to have to take turns or I won’t hear either one of you.”

Google deferred to the council president, who now had a haircut to compliment his new, combed-back style. William had also taken to shaving daily instead of only on Fridays. “We don’t see twenty-eight thousand a month for rent as an obstacle. That amounts to less than fifty dollars a month per student ... less than two bucks a day. A student lunch costs more than that. Besides, your dad said fair market value for the whole mall would be more like forty thousand.”

Amy poured Folgers coffee, hoping Starbucks would return to her kitchen soon. She said, “That still sounds like a lot of money,” and looked at Google.

“Cost of doing business,” he quipped, sipping from his cup. “We’re taking the position that it’s a reasonable use of insurance money. School must go on. Besides, it’s only for a couple years.” Like his fellow councilman, Google was slicked up. He wore a pinstriped dress shirt, pleated slacks, and new deck shoes of his own.

William nodded agreement. “Trisha thinks we can approach the oil and gas industry for help too ... a big contribution. They’ve been fighting with the state over taxes and environmental regulations and could use favorable publicity. She’s going to make some calls.”

Very clever, Amy thought. But Trisha? Was William suddenly on a first name basis with his teacher? “Is Berman supporting the whole idea of the alternative school? That might get her in trouble with the district.”

“Of course she supports it,” William said matter-of-factly. “She’s young enough to understand that schools need to change. According to her, all the teachers will probably support us. They’ll get behind any plan that keeps their work hours the same as they were. They don’t approve of any of the funny business that’s going on.”

“What funny business?” Amy asked. “The district thinks a double shift is their only choice.”

Google looked to William. “Tell her the finside story, what the school board discussed last night.”

William held out his cup. “More coffee then. And do you have any more of those cinnamon rolls, Amy?” She rushed to serve him, dying to hear.

“My father says the state wants to use us as lab rats. They want to hold off on financing a new school while we test out double-shifting until January. If all goes well, it might become a model for other cities too. It could save a ton of money on new construction and operating costs.”

Amy stopped breathing. Major problem. Hold off on building the new high school? Impossible! Even a short delay would ruin everything. There’d be no Westin Construction Company to even bid the job. Without that contract, she’d be moving to Scranton!

She excused herself and hurried to a bathroom. Bending over the sink, she splashed cold water on her face. Fear gave way to excitement. She knew there’d be challenges, obstacles she couldn’t anticipate. It was like hitting curveballs back in Little League. She had to stay calm and focused, always ready for the unexpected.

“William, what does your father think of your school plans?” Amy asked, returning to the table.

His smile stretched his face. “When I started telling dad about the mall and the computer curriculum, he got all teary-eyed! No shit! He wanted every detail. When I finished, you know what he did? He went to the damn fridge and came back with a couple beers! My dad handed me a beer!”

Google started laughing. “That had to be a first.”

“It was for sure! He said, ‘Son, I was getting worried you were going to be an ass clown your whole life ... that you’d never take anything seriously. You seem to have grown up overnight. What you’re saying actually makes sense to me. I can’t predict whether anyone else on the school board will agree, but I’m impressed and proud of you.’ Then we talked about it for the next hour.”

“My parents love what the council’s doing,” Google offered. “As long as we don’t get too carried away, that is. They say it’s a great discussion, something we should get involved in, but also something that would take a year of planning.”

William shook his head. “We’re not getting any younger. I want to push this through right now. Dad says the whole key is gathering information, having the power of knowledge. We have a hook with a novel concept. We can capture attention. Now we have to back it up. It’s like selling cars, he says. Clever advertising will get people to the lot, but it’s the details like mileage, maintenance costs, and resale value that matter in the end.”

Amy nodded. “Your father’s a smart man. No wonder he’s been so successful.”

“Google’s going to put together a budget, William continued. “When I present our plan to the school board tomorrow night, I want to show that everything is thought out ... that we’re not a bunch of stupid kids. I was hoping you might write down a few things for me to say. Words are kind of your specialty.”

Amy knew he wanted an entire speech. As expected. As required. William’s comedic delivery had never been a problem; he just needed better material. She would provide it. “I’ll spend all day working on it. Can I make a few suggestions?”

The boys’ heads bounced up and down, full of caffeine. “Tomorrow’s school board meeting is expected to be a question and answer session on how the double shift will work and that’s it. If you sat down in the middle of that and presented the student council’s request, no one would take you seriously. They’d say, ‘Thank you for sharing and have a nice day. School starts at three o’clock on Monday afternoon.’ Coming out of nowhere like that, your idea wouldn’t get a second of consideration.”

The boys glanced at each other. William said, “We had nineteen out of twenty council members there last night. I’m sure they’re all talking about it to their friends and parents. Word will spread quickly.”

“And what are their talking points?” Amy asked. “How cool it would be to go to a school with a pizza shop?”

William raised his hands. “Hold on. What do you mean by talking points?”

“She’s referring to the main reasons to support your new school idea,” Google said. “A better learning environment. Computer-based education. No messing up the middle school operation. Those kinds of things.”

“We could write them all down and pass the word,” William said.

Amy shook him off. “There’s a better way. Let’s say you get a full speech prepared by six tonight. I’ll email my notes to you by three. You set up a table and chairs in front of the mall, enough for you and the executive committee. Then you present your speech.”

“To who?” William asked.

Google got it and hopped to his feet. “To a camera! We film it and put it on YouTube! We put it on our webpage and Facebook! Everyone’s watching us, from New York to California.”

Amy grinned at Google’s enthusiasm. “You’ll cover everything important and everyone will know the student council’s position. There’ll be questions and criticism for sure, but they’ll come back in writing. You’ll have a chance to prepare thoughtful answers. By the time the school board meets tomorrow night, you’ll have already stolen the show. The world will be talking about you.”

William high-fived himself. “And if I mess up the speech, we can always film it again or do some editing.”

“You should do fine,” Google laughed. “No live audience to worry about.”

“No audience tonight,” Amy said, “but a huge one tomorrow night. You go all out to get the entire student body to attend the school board meeting. You overflow the middle school and show solidarity and strength. Double-shifting will fall right off the table.”

William saluted Amy. “These are fantastic ideas coming out of your head, Miss Westin.”

“Only suggestions. A leader evaluates what others say and sets his own course. That’s what you’re doing. I do have one demand though. No one ever mentions my involvement in any way, okay? Not even to Berman. I’m sensitive about the rental cost of the mall. It was never my intention for the district to pay rent.”

William nodded thoughtfully. “Your father explained that to me, Amy. He said you were acting from your heart instead of your head. You didn’t understand the financial part. I’ll keep you out of all this.”

Google chuckled. “What he’s saying, Amy, is that he’ll gladly take full credit himself.” He glanced at the president, then back to her. “What should I be doing to help right now? I’ve never been so fommitted to anything in my life!”

“You need to be the busiest of all. Find every article that talks about the advantages of computer-based education. Reference all of them on the council website. Write your own article to post along with the speech tonight. Talk about how Oil City is at the bottom academically and showing no signs of progress. Make it a sales pitch for change.”

“Got it. I already did some of that research last week. What else can I do?”

“Go shopping. Get prices for computers, desks, comfy swivel chairs, folding chairs with racks to store them on, and that curtain system we talked about. How about a vacuum cleaner for every room? We students should clean up after ourselves, don’t you think?”

He rapped the table with his knuckles. “You forgot the software for teaching everything!”

“I did. I also forgot to mention asking for donations. If the council attracts outside money, that could cinch the deal.”

William pushed back his chair. “Our executive committee has a lunch appointment with Trisha. She’s wasting her time at the middle school with the other teachers, getting ready for night school.”

A big, yellow caution sign popped up in Amy’s head. Something was off. Did she foresee a curveball coming? “Where’s this lunch happening?”

“We’re meeting in the school library.”

Amy shook her head. “Cancel. Make up any excuse.”

“What am I missing here?” Google asked. “Berman might have good ideas. She could help us prepare.”

“She’s been great,” William seconded.

“When did she invite you to this meeting?” Amy asked. “Sometime this morning?”

“She texted at nine-thirty.”

“Did she tell you who else would be at your meeting?”

“She just said we needed to be there.”

“Here’s my advice then. Send Berman a text. Say you’re sorry, but you can’t make it today. You’re busy with other things. That’s it.”

Google pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at William. “Amy’s right. Why would Berman say we needed to be there? The principal and superintendent want to piss on our parade. Think about it. We’re wildass rebels in their eyes.”

“Correct,” Amy said.

“Are you saying Trisha’s a traitor?” William asked. “I don’t believe that. She likes our plan.”

“She’s our advisor,” Google pointed out. “She works for Norm Johnson. She told him what we did at our meeting last night, that’s all.”

“Exactly,” Amy agreed. “She had a responsibility to do that. Johnson probably heard rumors and asked her about them. Then he’d call the superintendent. Or maybe she called him first. Doesn’t matter. We should have seen this coming. As long as you don’t show up and don’t say anything else to Berman, you’ll be in control by tomorrow.”

School board member Gary Cole huddled with Norm Johnson and Rachel Adams in a corner of the middle school library. Gwen Simpson had asked Cole to attend in her place. She was busy showing properties to a prospective home buyer.

“Since when did the student council think it could stick its nose in district business?” Cole asked the others. “Since when did the council do anything at all?”

The superintendent nodded toward the principal and shook her head. “There’s a new teacher serving as their faculty advisor. She obviously put them up to it.”

“The council requested her,” the principal explained. “They brought me a petition signed by all the members.”

“Well, problem solved,” Cole declared. “Unappoint the advisor and that will be the end of it. Tell the kids to stick to planning dances or whatever. Do you need me for your little meeting? I have work at the office.” Cole saw a young woman approaching and patted down his thinning hair. She was a knockout.

“That’s our new English teacher, Trisha Berman,” the principal announced. “She’s the council advisor.”

“Was the advisor,” the superintendent chuckled, bowing to Cole.

“I just got a text from the student council president,” Trisha told the group in a library whisper.

Gary Cole stood to greet the new arrival. He was pushing fifty, but still a player in his own mind. His hair was Grecian Formula black. “Hello, Trisha. Gary Cole.”

She nodded politely. “The council’s executive committee won’t be able to attend the meeting. They’ve asked to reschedule for another day.”

“The president is Denny Noble’s son, isn’t that right?” the superintendent asked. Gary coughed up a laugh.

Trisha answered, “Yes, William Noble.”

The superintendent shrugged. “Fine. I’ll contact him myself and set the meeting for tomorrow. As for you, Miss Berman, your tenure as council advisor is officially over. Any questions?”