by Ashton Lee
That produced some much-needed laughter. Then Mr. Place continued, “So it’s my belief that To Kill a Mockingbird helped tear down that wall in the theater between the whites and the coloreds. Everywhere else, too. That book and that movie helped to make all the fair play we take for granted now possible, and that’s pretty much what I had to say here tonight. That, and it’s good to be home again in Cherico with my mama and a great job. And don’t forget to come by and sample my pastries at The Twinkle. Even if you’re on a diet, treat yourself once in a while.”
A round of applause even more vigorous than that for Burke Williams erupted, as Mr. Place headed back to his seat, nodding graciously all the way.
“Thank you for that interesting and heartfelt testimony, Mr. Place!” Maura Beth exclaimed. “So much food for thought along with good food to eat.”
Then Miss Voncille stood up. “I think all this has inspired me to contribute something, too.”
“By all means, step up. We welcome what you have to say.”
Miss Voncille approached the podium with gusto as Maura Beth stepped aside. “I had no idea I would be saying anything tonight. I’d made up my mind just to sit and listen. But as young Mr. Williams was talking, I realized that I, too, had a story to tell. It’s about my long career as a schoolteacher here at Cherico High. Looking out into the crowd tonight, I can see many familiar faces that I taught. Only, some of the names seem to have changed. When you were my student, Justin Brachle, Stout Fella had yet to see the light of day. And your wife, Becca Heflin, was a few years away from her alter alias of Becca Broccoli on the radio. Then there’s Edward Badham, who now goes by the name of ‘Chunky,’ I believe; and ‘Gopher Joe’ sitting right next to him is the former Josephus Martin. Of course, I must point out Councilman Durden Sparks, who decided to leave his name alone.”
Everyone mentioned was nodding and chuckling, and Miss Voncille paused briefly for a breath. “But let me not forget Mr. Parker Place, who went by the name of Joe Sam Bedloe when I taught him. He was, in fact, a member of my very first integrated classroom, and a very good student he was.”
Mr. Place smiled big at his former teacher and gave her a neat little salute. “And you were a great teacher, Miss Voncille. Tough, but great. But I don’t remember being all that good a student in your history class. I had trouble remembering dates.”
“But you were attentive, and you tried hard. Anyway, none of that is really the main point,” she continued, returning his smile. “I wanted to confess something here in public for the first time. I remember the fall Cherico High was getting ready for the first wave of integration. Of course, all of my fellow teachers were white, and some of them were very apprehensive, including myself. Mrs. Johnnie-Dell Crews was the most vocal in the teachers’ lounge. ‘I don’t know what to expect,’ she would say all the time while we were having our morning coffee and doughnuts. ‘Do you think there’ll be any trouble with the coloreds?’ ”
Miss Voncille seemed a bit hesitant to continue but finally gathered herself. “That was the way people talked back then, and it was definitely on our minds. So I’m here to confess that there were moments when I allowed myself to succumb to my worst fears, and I’m not proud of it. There were those at the time who thought the world would come to an end because Cherico High was going to be integrated. But the world kept on spinning when it finally happened. I found that I had worried needlessly, and when I got students in my class like Joe Sam—I mean, Mr. Place—I felt ashamed that I had doubted myself and my ability to teach even for an instant. Helping him learn was what it was all about—the same goal I’d always had for every student I ever taught.”
Mr. Place raised his hand, almost as if he were back in the classroom, but did not wait to be called on to speak. “Miss Voncille, I can tell you what it was like from my point of view, if you’d like to hear it.”
“Please tell us, Joe Sam—oops, there I go again. Sorry, I just can’t seem to get used to all these name changes.”
He waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I was just as nervous as you and the other teachers were. My mama sitting right here next to me tonight said to hold my head up high, be calm and respectful no matter what anyone said to me or called me, and to do my best, but I was still scared. There’d been killings and bombings in the state in the years leading up to integrating the school, so that was always in the back of my mind. Nothing terrible like that ever happened to me or my family, thank God, but we had friends in other parts of the South that had some close calls. But the thing I remember most from my first day was the way you smiled at me when you called the roll in homeroom and came to my name, Miss Voncille. There was something about the way you said, ‘Joe Sam Bedloe?’ that made me feel just like the other students. You pronounced it so it didn’t stand out, like I had always been around. Like I belonged there. It made me relax and pay attention from then on to my lessons, not some worst-case scenario running around my head.”
Miss Voncille nodded approvingly. “Yes, it was a time for putting out feelers for all of us. But even though my subject was history, I read To Kill a Mockingbird when it first came out and Miss Nita Bellows in the English department had recommended it to me so highly. Looking back on it, I’m convinced that reading it before integration actually occurred a few years later helped prepare me for the changes to come. I believe the novel is full of a certain prescience in that way. My final thought is that To Kill a Mockingbird seems to be saying to you, ‘This might have been the way things were at one time here in the South, but these words will see to it that they don’t stay like that much longer.’ ”
“And I think we would all agree things have changed for the better,” Maura Beth pointed out. “Your analysis is certainly well-taken. Does anyone have a further comment or angle to discuss?”
“I like the prescience angle,” Jeremy added from his chair. “I’ve always told my students that the novel was an instant classic when it was released. What that really means is that it tapped into something that had been on a lot of people’s minds over the years and verbalized it precisely. I believe it prepared the country for the turmoil to come, as Miss Voncille and Mr. Place have expressed in a very personal way. It was a novel both very much before its time and right on time.”
Miss Voncille nodded graciously and said, “I can’t top that.” Then she stepped away from the podium to generous applause.
Mr. Place rose again briefly once Miss Voncille had resumed her seat. “My mother, Mrs. Ardenia Bedloe, would like to say something at this time.”
“By all means,” Maura Beth said, gesturing graciously in her direction. “Would you like to take the podium?”
Ardenia shook her head. “I believe I’ll stay right here, if you don’t mind. My arthritis has been acting up lately.”
“Then please go right ahead.”
“Well, when I was growing up in this town a long time ago now, I wasn’t allowed to check out books in this very library. I wanted to. I wanted to read more fairy tales and look at more picture books after I’d finished with the ones Santa Claus brought me for Christmas, but I couldn’t get a library card. Nobody in my family could. That was before Miz Annie Scott came in the sixties and way before To Kill a Mockingbird, even. So to be here this evening enjoying the food and the company and feeling so welcome the way I do is the sweetest thing in the world to me. I don’t believe I thought things would ever change back when I was a little girl, but they have. They really have.”
Maura Beth felt something catching in her throat as she responded. “Thank you, Mrs. Bedloe. I’m sure everyone here appreciates your candor. As for myself, I’ve been working very hard to make this library an integral part of Cherico for everyone. This book club is my most comprehensive effort yet. I’ve been library director for six years, and in many respects I now consider myself a Chericoan. But there are things some of you probably don’t know. If we still had a newspaper, you likely would have gotten wind of it by now. But since we don’t, I feel it�
�s my duty to inform you that this library is in real danger of being closed down at the end of the year. It should come as no surprise to hear that Cherico is not exactly swimming in money, and our City Council will have to make some tough decisions in the years ahead. One of them may be to stop funding the library and use the taxpayers’ money elsewhere.”
Maura Beth’s revelation was creating quite a stir throughout the gathering, causing Councilman Sparks to rise from his seat. “Unfortunately, what Miz Mayhew has just said is correct. The library is a huge drag on our budget, and we’d like to put that money to better use by creating an industrial park to attract new jobs to the community.”
“But if I may continue, Councilman,” Maura Beth said, careful to keep a pleasant tone in her voice, “what I wanted to emphasize was that this event tonight proves that the library can be a much more valuable community asset than it has been for many decades. If it can regularly accommodate groups like ‘Who’s Who in Cherico?’ and the proposed ‘Becca Broccoli in the Flesh,’ and, of course, The Cherry Cola Book Club, it is performing a useful service. Over time, that usefulness will expand and become more essential, and the taxpayers will more than get their money’s worth. Those who support the library for these and other purposes such as student research after school hours and adults hunting for job leads should make their views known to Councilman Sparks and City Hall as soon as possible.”
“What about right now?” Miss Voncille put in quickly, waving her hand energetically.
Knowing better than to cross her, Councilman Sparks deferred. “Go ahead, then, Miss Voncille. Speak your piece to us.”
“I will do just that, Durden. You can’t brush aside us library users so casually. I’ve had a wonderful ally in Maura Beth Mayhew for my ‘Who’s Who?’ organization from the day she arrived here in Cherico. Yes, Annie Scott was cooperative, too, but she was never as pleasant about it the way Maura Beth has been. Annie always acted like I was bothering her, intruding on her precious time, whereas Maura Beth has given me the respect a devoted daughter would have.”
Surprisingly, Mamie Crumpton was out of her seat. “My sister and I always look forward to coming to the library and hearing what Miss Voncille has to say. We enjoy the sense of continuity. Our parents were big library users. And, Durden, a little birdie told me not too long ago that you were seriously considering this library closure. Of course, I was shocked, and you might as well know that such a move would not be without consequences, I assure you.”
Councilman Sparks dropped his trademark smile as he responded. “I understand and respect what you’re saying, Mamie, but these club functions can easily be accommodated elsewhere, and, I might add, with more space available in the homes of private citizens, to name at least one alternative. Tonight, this library appears to be bursting at the seams, but it might also be considered something of a dog and pony show. Emphasis on the show. I think we all know very well that the library usually just sits here collecting dust, your genealogy meetings excepted.”
Maura Beth intervened, feeling the anger rising in her blood but managing to steady herself. “With all due respect, Councilman, I think what has been discussed here tonight so far has been substantive. We’ve brought some very diverse elements of the community together to reflect upon their shared history and, by the way, just have an old-fashioned good time together. How many things can you say that about? I think The Cherry Cola Book Club has a promising future, and I trust it will take place right here.”
Surprisingly, it was Becca who took the floor next. “If I could just say something. Mrs. Bedloe triggered some pleasant memories for me. I’m so sorry she couldn’t come to the library and use it in her day, but I could and did in mine. My mother enrolled me in summer reading every year, and I had a ball. At the time, Miz Scott gave out blue ribbons if we read so many books between the first of June and the end of July. If you fell short, you still got a red ribbon. Let me tell you, I still have every ribbon of every color I won tucked into one of my scrapbooks up in the attic somewhere. It would be a shame not to let Cherico’s current crop of children earn those kinds of memories during all the summers ahead of us.”
But Councilman Sparks would not back down. “I don’t want to come off as the bad guy here, Miz Brachle, but the library is just not an essential service. There are other departments that everyone here would agree we can never do without, such as police, utilities, water, sewage, and fire protection. On the bright side, if our proposed Cherico Industrial Park does bring in industries the way we hope it will, maybe then with more taxes to collect we can consider reopening the library down the road.”
“But closing it isn’t a done deal, is it?!” Donna Gordon exclaimed out of nowhere. “My friends and I were looking forward to coming to Becca Broccoli’s demonstrations, and we were even going to start checking out some cookbooks. We browsed through the stacks before the meeting got started and we really liked the selection.”
“Yeah! You can’t cut us off just when we’re getting started!” Terra Munrow complained. “I spotted some off-the-wall hairstyling books I’d like to read, and my boyfriend found a motorcycle repair manual he wants to check out when he comes back tomorrow to get his library card. Please don’t dangle the library in front of us and then snatch it away!”
Locke Linwood got to his feet next. “And I want to say that The Cherico Library and I go back a long way. When I was a little boy, I was hooked on all the Hardy Boys mysteries. I checked out and read every one because at the time I thought I wanted to be a detective when I grew up. Of course, I ended up selling life insurance instead, but I never forgot the sense of wonder and adventure that those books instilled in me. And the library helped sustain me later in life when the sailing got a big rough.” Then he sucked in air and lifted his chin with authority. “When my dear wife got terminally ill a few years ago, I checked out as many books as I could find on being a caregiver. I did what I could for her all the way to the end. I’d like to think that the answers I found would always be available to others in their time of need.”
Locke’s testimony inspired James Hannigan to stand up. “He’s right, you know. When my mother passed away, I was having a tough time accepting it. It was so traumatic for me because she died unexpectedly in her sleep. But then my pastor suggested that after I’d finished praying, I go to the library and see if they had any books on dealing with grief.” He paused to gesture at Maura Beth. “And Miz Mayhew, you had several for me to choose from. I checked them all out, and as I read them, I began to see that other people had gone through this and come out at the other end ready to get on with their lives. I was able to make my peace, and I accomplished that with a little prayer and my library card. That’s another reason I was so eager to help you out.”
Maura Beth finally stepped into the respectful lull that followed. “I’m fighting back tears when I say that everything I’ve just heard from all of you defines what a library is and what it does for a community. All of you are true friends of the library. I’m not sure you can put a price on that, Councilman Sparks.”
“Perhaps not,” he answered with no trace of his customary arrogance. “But the City Council has to consider the big picture in running this town. Next year’s budget will be finalized exactly two weeks from tomorrow. Money is tight, and we’re looking for ways to funnel more of it into Cherico. We’ve had the industrial park on the front burner for some time now, but we’ll make our final decision on the library at that time. All of you are welcome to attend.”
For a few seconds, Maura Beth felt like she’d lost the battle. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. How could anyone not be impressed with everything that had gone on in the library tonight? She had expected a clear decision in her favor and was temporarily at a loss for words.
But Miss Voncille had no trouble expressing herself. “I’ll get a letter and e-mail campaign going, Durden Sparks. I’ll rustle up a list of my former pupils and put them on the job. Then you’ll have to keep the library
open!”
“Miss Voncille,” he replied in a tone that was semi-conciliatory, “I have not made my decision yet, and all opinions will be welcomed as the Council reviews the matter. But have you considered that the town of Cherico can do everything a little better with more revenue flowing in? Meanwhile, using library money to pay for movie posters of Gregory Peck seems a bit extravagant to me.”
Maura Beth motioned for Miss Voncille to resume her seat and was somehow able to conjure up a smile. “You seem to have covered all bases, Councilman Sparks. But I want it noted as a matter of public record that Connie McShay, the treasurer of The Cherry Cola Book Club, paid for those posters of Gregory Peck with her own money. They didn’t cost the library a cent. So now, if you don’t have any objections, I think we’d like to wind up our discussion of To Kill a Mockingbird.”
“Of course,” he answered, turning to head toward the door with Chunky and Gopher Joe. “We’re at cross-purposes regarding the library, but I’m sure we both want what’s best for Cherico. Now, if you’ll excuse us, please.”
Maura Beth watched the three of them leave the building, while the Scarlett side of her that she had been cultivating so meticulously seethed with frustration. “Just don’t count me out!” she exclaimed finally.
“I never have!” Councilman Sparks returned just before making his exit.
Some of the crowd moved forward to chat with and console Maura Beth, but the words seemed to blend together after a while. One remark stood out, however, when Jeremy said, “I truly wish I could stay a little longer to help you figure out what to do next, but I have to drive the boys over to the hotel in Corinth. Burke Williams wanted to say something to you before we left, though.”
The lanky young poet approached Maura Beth shyly, barely able to look her in the eye, but his message struck home. “I hope you don’t think this is out of left field, Miz Mayhew, but I keep thinking about the character of Boo Radley in To Kill a Mockingbird. How he quietly saved the day there at the end when everything seemed so desperate, I mean. Maybe someone or something like that will happen for you and your library so you’ll stay open.”
