what, five or ten minutes?" Barry asked. "It's just a formality," the man said.
"How can we make an informed decision if we don't know what's in there?"
The man laughed. "That's a good one." The laugh was genuine, and it made Barry uneasy. The idea that the votes of the homeowners were important and actually meant I something struck this man as legitimately funny. An ominous sign.
Liz was seated near the closest aisle, and she waved j them over. She'd saved the two seats next to her, and he and Maureen exchanged a glance as they walked up.
It was as if nothing unusual had ever happened, as if she had not been a paranoid recluse for the better part of two months, and her normality was disconcerting. Liz smiled as they sat down and said she was glad they'd come, she hadn't been sure they would. She spoke in whispers, and though Barry wanted to talk in a normal tone of voice, wanted to demonstrate that he was unintimidated and unafraid, he found himself whispering back, daunted by the silence of everyone around him.
"There's no way we'd miss this," he said. "I finally have an opportunity to give that board a piece of my mind."
"Please pick up your revised copy of The Bonita Vista Homeowners'
Association Declaration of Covenants, Conditions, and Restrictions,""
the man in livery said from his post near the table as someone new walked in. His voice sounded absurdly loud in the stillness.
"Ratification is the first item on today's agenda."
Barry placed the massive volume on his lap and opened it up. Liz's copy, he noticed, was on the floor next to her. Several of the people around them had also laid their books on the floor, though some were attempting to read through the amended regulations.
He turned pages randomly. There was a rule disallowing the cooking of Asian food at any residence, another stating that all homeowners must own an American flag, although the flag could not be displayed either in or outside the house. He flipped quickly through the book. The regulations grew wackier and wackier. Only Number 2 pencils could be used to write grocery lists; residents were required to wash their hair daily and use conditioner; baldness was not acceptable in public, and homeowners who were losing their hair had to wear toupees outside the privacy of their homes. He was certain that there were dangerous edicts hidden among the frivolous ridiculous ordinances, but there was no time to find them, and he was glad that he'd prepared a speech ahead of time. If people were going to automatically ratify regulations with which they were completely unfamiliar, they needed to hear what he had to say.
He'd told Mike about his planned speech, asked his friend to spread the word, and Barry could only hope that he had. He glanced around the silent crowd. If everything went well, people would respond to his questioning of the board with questions of their own and those old men would find themselves under attack, forced to defend policies and procedures that until this point had been taken for granted. Even the best laid plans went astray--and this was a half baked scheme to begin with--but he had faith that he might be able to at least stir things up here today.
The president's gavel fell on the table with the sharp suddenness of a gunshot, and Barry jumped along with everyone else. All eyes turned toward the raised platform on which sat the board of directors.
"Hear ye! Hear ye!" the man in livery announced from the back of the room. "The annual meeting of the Bonita Vista Homeowners' Association will now come to order!"
Jasper Calhoun, seated at the center of the table, stood and smiled munificently. "Welcome neighbors," he said.
A huge cheer went up, the people around them began ; clapping wildly, and Barry looked at Maureen. He'd been, sitting there waiting for a follow-up sentence, having no \ idea that the president's simple greeting would be an applause cue, and the response of his fellow homeowners was as startling and unexpected as the rap of the gavel had been. He had a sudden uneasy suspicion that this was part of some ritual, like a church service, with programmed cues and responses.
Leaning over Maureen, he spoke to Liz. "How long do these meetings usually last?" he whispered.
"Two or three hours," she whispered back.
Two or three hours?
The president beamed at the crowd, and his smile grew even wider, though that was not something Barry would have thought physically possible. The disproportionate breadth of his mouth gave Calhoun's face a creepy, wolflike appearance. "We will begin this meeting with the most important task facing us today: voting on our Covenants, Conditions, and Restrictions."
Another cheer.
"You've all had time to look over the amended declaration. All those in favor of accepting the revisions raise your hands."
Arms shot into the air.
Barry was thrown off guard. "Wait!" he yelled, leaping to his feet.
"Aren't we going to discuss this? We--"
"Opposed?" the president said.
The gavel was rapped on the table before Barry even had a chance to raise his hand or finish his sentence.
"The amendments are accepted," Calhoun announced.
Barry stood there dumbly, looking around at his seated neighbors, all of whom seemed to be eagerly awaiting the next word from the president's lips. They're all hypnotized, he thought, it's the only explanation. But he knew that wasn't true.
He glanced down at Maureen. She, too, seemed stunned. The idea that such a massive revision of a document affecting the lives and property of everyone here could be approved in a single vote and without any discussion, without time to even fully comprehend all the changes, was unbelievable.
Barry was still standing, and Calhoun pointed at him with the gavel.
"Mr. Welch, would you please have a seat?"
He faced the president. "I want to know why there wasn't any discussion about these revisions. Isn't it normal to vote on amendments individually, after people have a chance to give their opinions?"
"This is Bonita Vista," Calhoun said, as if that explained everything.
"Please sit down so we may continue our meeting."
Barry was aware of the hostile stares directed at him from some of the other homeowners, and he felt Maureen tugging on his shirtsleeve. He still had his speech to give, but this apparently wasn't the time for member comment and since he wanted to win over the crowd and not alienate them, he sat down. He had not expected the other residents to be so in sync with the board, and it worried him.
On the platform, one of the other board members handed the president a slip of paper.
Calhoun nodded at the man, then faced the audience. "A motion has been made to do away with all cats in the town of Corban . As you know, we have begun our process of eliminating dogs, but as the eradication of all pets is our ultimate goal and part of our ongoing effort to bring Corban into the Bonita Vista family, it has been suggested that we begin killing cats. Shall we put this to a vote?"
"Yes!" the crowd shouted.
Again Barry thought of the church analogy. There was definitely a ritualistic element to this meeting that he and Maureen were not privy to and that did not sit well with him. Even more unnerving was the subject matter. He had] known the association was behind the dog poisonings, but! he'd assumed that it was a decision made by the board. The] idea that the entire membership had voted on and approved | such a horrific and inhuman policy threw him for a loop.
Had they approved the child murders as well?
Goose bumps rippled down his skin.
"All those in favor of expanding the pet eradication to; include cats and kittens raise your hands."
Arms shot up all around him.
Barry looked about wildly. Mike's hand was not raised, but Tina's was, and with a sickening drop in his stomach he . realized that his neighbors, even the ones he'd considered! his friends, even the nice men and women he'd met at Ray's parties, were the homeowners'