HUNTER LAKE 7/100 THE GALA

HUNTER LAKE 7/100 THE GALA

“You got the invite to the Gala, right?” Mabel’s eyes bored into June.

June shifted in the booth seat across the table. She remembered why she didn’t want to sit there in the first place. She was caught in the web waiting for the kill. “I don’t know, remember what happened last year?”

“Wasn’t anybody’s fault, things happen,” said Mabel.

June wondered, perhaps Mabel’s husband, the Mayor, had a contagious type of dementia. It wasn’t just a “thing.” There was no reason to hash over it now. That land grab by the Grain Elevator happened behind everybody’s back, and the Mayor funded it with the State’s Resource Fund from the fracking oil companies out West. Someone from somewhere was in charge of all the money coming into the county. When the grain elevator was able to buy six hundred acres, they didn’t publish their financial reports. Their answer to June’s inquiry was: “Corporate won’t let us.” June spent hours on the computer trying to figure it out. The company had switched hands five times. As of a year ago, it was owned by some corporation running out of Singapore. Last year she confronted the mayor about it at the Gala, no less. “Mayor, did you get any kickbacks from the Grain Elevator people?” Of course her best friend Alma had taken out her cell phone and recorded the whole thing and posted it on YouTube.

That day had been a beautiful summer day, just past the worst of the gnat season, and the sloughs had enough fresh water from the new rains, and the wind blew hard enough that the mosquitoes weren’t even a bother that night. The Mayor’s house stood at the top of the bluffs overlooking the valley, and in the afternoon sun the whole town seemed to glow. Even the Sheyenne River seemed clean, the dikes they were building lay hidden behind the City Park buildings. The sounds from the Fourth of July Parade were winding down, as the town prepared for the Fireworks, and hoped for some cool air so the mosquitoes would continue to ignore them.

“You know Mabel, it was a beautiful day, maybe you’ll be lucky with the weather again.”

Mabel smiled. “I love giving parties, but everyone has to come and that means you.”

June wondered how much amnesia it took to manage a small town, maybe everyone was going to forget everything, until the whole town got bought out and turned to dust.

“Ok, count me in, as long as I can bring a friend.”

Mabel laughed. “Of course.”

“Gotta’ go.” June shifted her way out of the booth and grabbed her cane. She put the manila envelope from the “beige man” at the bar, under her arm and tossed a 5 dollar bill on the counter.

As she neared the front door, Dottie pulled it open. “Escaping?”

“You’re going to the Gala, right Dottie.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, check out who’s joining Mabel.”

“The Bunko club, I don’t even have to look.”

Three other women were crossing over to the booth, covered with animal print Chico outfits. “We’re back from vacay and ready to plan.”

Bubbling Mabel’s voice rose over the other women, “Yeaaa, let’s start with the food, you’ve heard about Sally, right? Frank’s woman, should we let her bid?”

“She’s not from here”

“Is too, just went away for a while.”

“Same thing.”

“No it’s not, you’re not going to let Francesca cater again, those wimpy Italian dishes, the noodle salad and antipasta and please not that, please something fun, like French Macarons or something exotic.”

“Maybe we could set the menu and send out the bids and do a sampling.”

“Oooooo, just like a wedding.”

“Great idea.”

“Did you sent out the invites?”