Jim started to interrupt, “But it’s not—”
“If I am retained as leader, it will be for a one-year term. During that time we’ll adopt a new constitution to govern our community and future elections. All citizens will have a say in this document. If you choose not to retain me, then whoever you do elect can deal with it, and good luck to him or her.”
Jim started to get up again, but one of his neighbors pulled him down, muttering, “It’s fair enough, Jim, fair enough.”
I hadn’t really been nervous up to that point. I mean, if I lost the election, they deserved whatever kind of crappy leader they chose. I wanted to win, but I didn’t need to win.
Now, though, approaching the next subject on my mental agenda, I was a wreck. My palms sweated, my heart raced, and I had to consciously slow my breathing to avoid hyperventilating.
“There’s one more thing I’d like to do while we’re all gathered here. A personal matter, if you’ll indulge me, please.
“I… every day I curse the volcano, curse this winter— like all of us do. But then I remember that it brought me to Darla. I’m not sure we would have met otherwise. Over these two and a half years, I’ve come to admire her immensely: her toughness, her indomitable spirit, her courage, and her brilliance with anything mechanical.” Was it possible? Darla was blushing! Or maybe it was only a trick of the light.
“I owe her my life. Several times over. We all do. Speranta would not have been possible without her inventiveness and tireless work. But more importantly, I’ve come to love her.”
I turned to face her. “Darla, I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” I fished around in my pocket with my good hand until my fingers closed over the ring I had picked. Then I tried to kneel while simultaneously pulling the ring from my pocket. I tripped and nearly went face down, catching myself at the last second, my hook thudding into the wooden floor of the long-house. A couple of people chuckled, but they fell silent as I lifted the ring toward Darla. It was set with a nice-size emerald surrounded by tiny diamonds.
“Darla,” I said. I felt dizzy, and I paused to take a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”
Chapter 53
The silence was total. Everyone in the room had stopped breathing at the same time. Darla’s face was bright red, and a tear fell from the corner of her eye. She was crying? Oh, crap!
“Say something,” I whispered.
The silence persisted for a heartbeat longer, and then Darla finally broke it. “Yes,” she whispered. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, but in the quiet room everyone could hear. We all started breathing again at once. There were sighs and cheers and relieved laughter. I held out the ring, and Darla slipped her finger into it. It was too big, so I moved it onto her pointer finger. It fit fine there.
I stood, and Darla launched herself into my arms, nearly bowling me over backward. We kissed, and I forgot about everything else, forgot about the election I had just called, forgot about the audience, and lost myself in the softness of her lips, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the faint smell of bearing grease that clung to her only slightly less persistently than I did.
When the kiss ended, I was momentarily disoriented by the percussive noise. I looked around. They were applauding us. From the corner of my eye, I saw Alyssa slip out of the longhouse. Her hands were clenched over her mouth. Max left too, following her.
When the applause died down, I stood at the front of the room, holding Darla’s hand and grinning so hard that I figured my face would freeze that way, and I’d have no possible future other than as a pirate clown.
“One more thing, and then we’ll hold the vote. Reverend Evans,” I intentionally used his religious title, “would you do me and Darla the honor of marrying us, say a month from today?” I looked to Darla for confirmation of the date, and she nodded.
“It would be my honor,” Evans murmured.
“In addition, I wonder if you would be willing to establish a place of worship here in Speranta. A community—even one as small as ours—should have spiritual leadership as well as secular, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Indeed,” Evans said.
I fixed him with a hard stare. “And in the finest American tradition, the secular and spiritual leadership should be separate.”
Evans looked away. He knew he had been beaten; I could see it in his posture. “As you say.”
Anna brought out the ballot box and paper ballots I had asked her to make earlier that day. I asked Evans and Zik to serve as election monitors. I needed to box in Evans completely, forcing him to acknowledge the legitimacy of the election, and I knew Zik would keep him honest.
Everyone able to walk filed up to the table to fill out their ballot. Then Evans and Zik donned masks and carried the box out to the greenhouse where the sick were quarantined, so they could vote without rising from their bedrolls. We counted the votes right there with everyone watching. It wasn’t even close: I won with seventy-six yes votes and ten no. For at least the next year, I had my job cut out for me. The fate of almost one hundred people rested upon my already sagging shoulders.
Chapter 54
Late that night, pressed together amidst the crush of people sleeping in the longhouse, Darla and I held a whispered conversation.
“I’m sorry I proposed right in the middle of slapping down Evans,” I said. “I just… I couldn’t bear the thought of waiting. I mean, who knows—”
“What’ll happen tomorrow,” Darla finished for me. “I’m glad you didn’t wait.”
“Do you like the ring?” I asked. “I’ve got a bunch of others. One of them has an absolutely humon-gous diamond.”
“I love this one,” she said. “It’s perfect.”
“I liked the color. Green makes me think of spring. Of hope.”
We got up before first light to get ready for the trip to Sterling. I decided to take the exact same crew of thirty who had gone to Rockford. For one thing, none of them were sick. I’d kept them all out of the greenhouse where the sick people were isolated. I loaded about half of our supply of kale and a wide selection of seeds in case we found someone to trade with.
At breakfast I announced that Reverend Evans would be in charge while I was gone. Darla gave me a sharp look, but I knew what I was doing. By putting him in charge and doing it publicly, I reinforced the idea that he was subordinate to me. And I managed to look magnanimous at the same time.
The trip to Sterling went smoothly. The Bikezillas were nearly empty and superfast. We made almost forty miles on the first day, passing through Pearl City, Georgetown, and Lanark. They were all half-burned and eerily silent. Not for the first time, I wondered where all the people had gone. I supposed they must mostly be dead, frozen in the tombs they used to call home.
We reached Sterling before noon the next day. From the routing slip, I knew the distribution center should be on Matthew’s Road, but we couldn’t find it. Street signs were hard to find anywhere—often buried in the snow berms at the sides of the roads, but usually we could locate a few of them. In Sterling they were all gone. I couldn’t even find the posts that had held them up.
Finally, I reasoned that the distribution center had to be on a major highway and would probably be outside of town where the land for a giant warehouse was available. So we started following each highway out of Sterling a few miles, looking for a gigantic building. It had to be the biggest structure in the area; Sterling wasn’t exactly a huge city.
Finally, on the eighth road we tried, we found it: an unmistakably massive, flat-roofed structure. Huge mounds of snow surrounded it on all sides, reaching almost to the roofline; someone had shoveled snow off the twenty-plus acre roof. Was it still occupied?