He beamed at Nancy. “I’m sure Nancy read about the meeting.”
Alice watched her friend’s face twist into a girlish smile as Rich left the room.
“Wow. You are a first-class ass-kisser, Nance.”
Nancy flushed. “You think you know everything,” she hissed. She jerked herself up out of her chair and left.
Alice leaned back and stared at a brown stain on the ceiling. It was the shape of Florida and had been there the day she interviewed for this job almost twenty years ago. She had been so excited to get hired then. But now she just felt tired. She picked up another flier, this time reading it as she folded it.
“Hood River County Annual Noxious-Weed Program!” it declared, and laid out the dangers of the weed problem: choking wetlands, strangling native plants, harming wildlife. A cartoon of a desperate-looking quail had been drawn by a summer intern about six years ago. They used the same copy every year.
At the bottom of the page, Alice saw a new line: “SupraGro is a proud sponsor of the Hood River County Noxious-Weed Program.” Her breath caught. She took a photo of it and texted it to Stan.
“Read the bottom,” she wrote.
The extension service’s tests on Alice’s dead hives had shown a clear saturation of chemicals that matched SupraGro. But the noxious-weed program raised the stakes considerably. This went beyond spraying the orchards, which was bad enough. It was a county-wide project that covered hundreds of square miles and would start at the beginning of summer. It meant that SupraGro’s pesticides would be sprayed on every road, park, school, empty lot, and culvert in the entire county. It might kill the noxious weeds, but it would also poison the wild clover, dandelions, asters, and sunflowers. The runoff would then drain from the ditches into the creeks and the rivers until it had contaminated the entire watershed of the Columbia River Gorge.
People began to trickle into the room for the meeting.
Alice’s phone buzzed. Stan had texted back: “Lynchpin! Filing joint lawsuit with PDX Riverkeeper. Keep you posted. Thanks!”
That was something. The tightness in her chest eased, and she felt a sliver of hope open up.
Bill lumbered into the room, hitching up his slacks and tugging on his polo shirt before lowering himself into a chair. Nancy slipped in and sat near the front. Bill cleared his throat.
“Thanks, everyone, for making room in your schedules today. This won’t take long. Just one or two pieces of business for the quarter.”
He put on his reading glasses.
“The first is just a reminder that the new employee wellness plan goes into effect as of June first, so expect to see that in your email soon. It doesn’t cost you anything extra, but it includes add-ons like smoking cessation, nutrition counseling, and cardiac health tips.”
Bill rattled off a customer service email address and phone number in case anyone had questions about the wellness program. Then he pushed the paper away and leaned back. His chair squeaked, and he chuckled as he peered out from under his thick eyebrows.
“This second announcement won’t surprise many of you,” he said. “As you know, I’ve been with the county for almost thirty-five years now. I’ve watched it grow, and I’ve taken a great amount of pride in leading my team in shaping Hood River’s future. We’ve grown from a little orchard town nobody heard of to a destination for international tourism and tech business! I’m proud of that. I’m proud of you people.”
He gestured out at the room with his plump hands and then curled them into fists on the tabletop. There was scattered applause.
“Thank you,” he said. “But it really was all your hard work. I just steered the ship.” He paused. “However, all good things must end.”
Alice’s heart raced. Was this it? She couldn’t believe it was finally happening. Why hadn’t he given her any warning? Had she missed an email?
“The wife has been after me to retire, and the time has come. I’ll be officially leaving the county at the end of this month, at the end of our fiscal year.”
Alice sat up straight, and now everyone was clapping.
“Thank you! Thanks, everyone,” Bill said. “Really. You are too kind. Now, any transition takes some time. And I want you to know that I’ll be leaving you in good hands.”
He glanced toward Alice and then away.
Her face flushed. Her breathing accelerated. It had been a long time coming, that was certain. She’d had years to think about how she would manage the department once she was in charge. For now, she would just keep it simple. Be gracious and say thank you.
“. . . Leadership in place that is going to carry you into the years ahead and keep Hood River County pointed in the right direction,” Bill was saying.
Debi Jeffreys nudged her, and others began to murmur.
“I’ll be working hard to help prepare her to step in. But I know she’ll have no trouble filling my shoes. It is with great pleasure that I introduce your new interim director—Nancy Gates!”
Bill banged his big hands together and beamed at Nancy. There was a pause, and then other people joined in, looking at Alice and then at Nancy. Nancy giggled and gave a little wave. Alice struggled to catch her breath. Her ears rang.
“Unbelievable,” Debi muttered. “Alice, I’m so sorry.”
Bill was wrapping things up.
“. . . Want you to know I will be here to answer any questions during this month of transition. My door is always open!”
He pushed himself away from the table and stood. There was more clapping. Alice saw Nancy, in her mind’s eye, coming out of Bill’s office. She also saw what she had refused to acknowledge: Bill’s hand on Nancy’s ass. The day of the SupraGro meeting when the two of them had disappeared hadn’t been the first time Alice had been unable to find both of them.
Alice waited for everyone to leave. Jim Murphy shrugged and shook his head at her as he passed. Others looked at her like they wanted to say something but didn’t. When the room was empty, she rose and went back to her desk. Nancy was sitting with her shoulders back and her eyes on her monitor.
“Mr. Carlson would like to see you in his office, Alice,” she said, not looking up.
Alice ignored her and knocked on Bill’s door.
“Mr. Chenowith went to early lunch,” Nancy said, her mouth in a prim line. “You can leave a message with me if you want.”
Alice faced her, and Nancy’s bravado melted under her gaze. What was most surprising was not Nancy’s betrayal, Alice realized, but her own failure to see it coming. Nancy had copied off her Spanish tests in high school. She had let Alice shoulder the workload as Bill did less and less. She came in late, left early, and spent hours circulating the office with a cup of coffee, her tinkling laugh in all corners, gathering gossip. She had something on everyone. Nancy had collected dirt like treasure and tucked it away for later. Alice shook her head, all the pieces falling into place.
“You’re a perfect fit, Nance,” she said.
Nancy’s face quivered, and she gave a weak smile. “Thanks, Alice. I mean, I’m sure you’re disappointed—”
“No, you’re perfect. You’re a suck-up and a do-nothing,” she said.
She grabbed her bag and headed for the front door. As she passed the reception desk, Debi gave her a warning look and said, “Carlson’s looking for you.”
Alice kept walking toward the exit. Like hell she was going to talk to Rich Carlson right then.
As if summoned, he leaned out of his office and smiled at her, his yellow tooth poking out from under his thin upper lip.
“Just the person I was looking for! Please come in.”
Alice sighed, walked into his office, and shuddered as he closed the door behind her.
“Sit! Please!” he said.
He tugged at his suit jacket and pulled his chair forward, leaning his elbows on the desk.
“
Now, Alice. I’m sure you were somewhat surprised by Bill’s announcement today. Perhaps a little disappointed, hmmm?” He made a frowny face, like Alice was a kid who’d just dropped her ice cream.
“Well, no sense in dwelling on it. Your turn will come when the time is right. Bill made his choice, and I’m sure Nancy will do an excellent job, especially with you on board to support her like you’ve supported Bill so well.”
Alice said nothing. She just watched Rich as if from far away.
Rich flipped open a file folder on his desk. “Now, it’s no secret that Bill talked about your own candidacy at one time.”
Alice was silent.
“And we do appreciate your work. So we’d like to give you a promotion! I’ve got a new contract here that will go into effect at the start of next month. You will be the planning department senior staff manager, and that gives you a fifteen percent raise! Nothing to sneeze at, is it?”
He pushed the paper across the desk at her, but Alice didn’t look at it.
“Senior staff manager?” she said. “Who would I be managing? Who’s replacing Nancy?”
Rich grimaced in an attempt to smile. He rubbed his skinny hands together. The sound of his dry skin made Alice flinch.
“Well, we won’t be filling the position right away. As part of the reorganization, that gives us the extra money for your raise.”
“I see. So you want me to do my job and Nancy’s job for fifteen percent more? Is that right?”
Rich looked annoyed and sat back. “That’s sort of a glass-half-empty way of looking at it, Alice. Think about the leadership opportunity you’re gaining here.”
Alice laughed. “What, to lead myself? I’m already doing that, Richard.”
Rich didn’t like being laughed at. He also didn’t like being called Richard, and Alice knew it. He once told her that only his mother called him Richard. He leaned forward again and trained his beady eyes on hers.
“Look, Alice. Quite frankly, you haven’t exactly been a team player lately,” he said.
He flipped open another file and fanned its contents across the desk. Alice saw the newspaper article and the photo with Stan. She saw emails from Nancy. A cursory glance showed she’d been documenting Alice’s remarks and jokes about their director and the other administration members.
Rich sat back in his chair, smiling smugly and tenting his fingers.
“I’m sure you can see how it looks from our point of view,” he murmured. “It’s really in your best interest to play nice, Alice. You’re going to have to work with Nancy, like it or not, and Bill too.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Bill is retiring.”
Rich shook his head, pressing his lips together. “Bill is retiring from the county,” he said. “He’ll be working with us as an outside consultant. For SupraGro.”
Alice looked at Rich’s receding hairline and the naked edges of his scalp. Bits of dandruff dusted the dark polyester of his shoulders. She looked past him and out the window toward the water. She recalled that day in fourth grade, when she’d said she wanted to be a farmer and the class had laughed. Miss Tooksbury had gotten married and moved to Portland when Alice was in the sixth grade. She’d like to tell her teacher that it wasn’t true—you couldn’t be whatever you wanted. Life was a whole lot more complicated than that. But she also knew now, with just as much certainty, that you couldn’t be whatever other people wanted you to be either.
She pushed the contract back at Rich.
“No thanks,” she said, and stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
He looked annoyed. “Come on, Alice. This is a great offer. We both know you aren’t going to get more than this.”
“No, I won’t,” Alice said. “You’re right.”
“Well, shall we get this over with, then?” He held out a pen.
“Yes, let’s,” she said. “I quit.”
For once Rich Carlson was speechless. Alice left his door open and walked out of the Hood River County building into the May sunshine.
Alice Holtzman had never quit anything in her life. She was reliable, steady, and loyal. Capable Alice. But now she was walking out, just like that. She felt a stab of joy as she headed down Oak Street. She passed the John Deere shop where she had first met Buddy. She passed the bank, where her father had taken her to open a checking account when she got her first job. There was the library and across the street, Waucoma Bookstore. Hood River had been her home for forty-four years. She owed something to this place.
She must have looked so expectant when she walked into the Watershed Alliance offices that the receptionist assumed she was there for the meeting and ushered her into the conference room.
Stan was standing in front of a whiteboard, gesturing with a dry-erase marker.
“. . . File a motion to cease and desist later this afternoon,” he was saying to a group of about ten people. He stopped when he saw Alice, and smiled.
“Excuse me for a moment,” he said to the group, and crossed the room to her.
“Hi!” His smile dimmed when he reached her, and his brow furrowed. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to come by and see if there was anything I could do to help.”
Stan’s face relaxed. “That last bit was really key. We’ve got Portland Riverkeeper here, the organic growers association, and the outdoor school people.”
He turned to the group. “Everyone, this is Alice Holtzman, from the county planning department. I think most of you know her?” Stan said.
Alice nodded at the men and women clustered around the table.
“I don’t want to interrupt,” she said. “But let me know if there is anything else I can do,” she said to Stan. She moved toward the door.
“Actually, we were just looking at a map of the valley,” Stan said. “You know most of the orchardists, don’t you?”
She nodded and moved toward the map.
“We’re trying to figure out where they’ll start spraying. We know the county puts them on a schedule, and that it is wind-dependent. Do you have any idea how they decide?” Stan said.
Alice nodded. The permits came through her department, she said.
“Smaller outfits will do their own spraying and can start anytime after April fifteenth,” she said, thinking of Doug Ransom. “But the larger orchardists have to file a permit with the county and note their preferred day. We make a schedule dependent on the wind forecast.”
People nodded, murmuring.
“Who do they usually start with?” Stan asked.
“It changes from year to year,” Alice said, and unslung her bag from her shoulder.
“Why don’t we look it up?” she said, pulling her laptop from her bag.
She logged into the system and clicked through to the spray schedule. There it was, neatly color-coded and organized by acreage. Because it was one of Nancy’s few tasks, it gave Alice extra pleasure to capture the file and email it to herself, cc’ing Stan.
“It’s all there,” she said, logging out of the system. “Dates, times, and addresses.”
Stan pulled it up on his computer, and those sitting closest to him leaned in.
“They’re starting two weeks from tomorrow,” he said. “With Randy Osaka’s orchard in Odell. That’s one of the biggest.”
He looked up, triumphant. “We can be ready by then, can’t we?”
The group nodded, murmuring in agreement.
“Let’s get organized,” he said. “Starting with the master task list—legal, community outreach, and media.”
Alice rose and tugged her computer bag over her shoulder. “I’ll let you get to it,” she said, and moved to leave.
“Back to work?” Stan asked, walking her to the door.
“No. Actually, I just quit!” she said with a laugh.
“Wow! Sounds li
ke there’s a story there?” Stan said, cocking his head. “You happy about it?”
“Never been happier,” Alice said.
“Well, don’t rush off, then. We can use your help.”
She was glad to stay. She cataloged a list of the orchardists she knew, ranked in order of those who might be receptive to the group’s message. Their goal was to force the county to abandon the SupraGro contract and revert to one of many less toxic herbicides approved by the local coalition, which was made up of the Hood River Watershed Alliance, Portland Riverkeeper, the outdoor school, the organic growers’ group, and a long list of residents, including doctors and nurses from around the valley. Alice told them about the beekeeping group’s petition. She figured she could talk them into joining the fight.
Stan asked her if she’d be willing to approach some of the orchardists. Alice agreed, noticing that at least three of them were also beekeepers and had been at the meeting when she spoke. She was sure they would listen. Others would be tougher, but she would start tomorrow, dropping in on them and talking to them face-to-face. She knew that when needed, she would call upon the memory of her generous father, whom everyone had loved.
She looked at Stan and these other people who were working together to protect this lovely place they all called home. She thought of her little house in the dell, where Jake and Harry would be waiting for her. They were her—what were they? “Employees” wasn’t the right word. Jake had called himself her apprentice. Friends, she settled on. They were her friends. Her funny, bumbling, and inspiring young friends. Alice Island, it appeared, could have regular visitors when the drawbridge was down. She thought of them as she drove south toward the mountain, toward the dell, toward the bees, and toward home.
22
Swarm Warning
From these considerations, it is evident that swarming, so far from being the forced or unnatural event which some imagine, is one, which could not possibly be dispensed with, in a state of nature.
—L. L. LANGSTROTH
The Music of Bees Page 25
