by Emery, Lynn
“Kyle and I have discussed it, Quentin,” Claude spoke in a tone that dismissed his objection. He turned to Paul. “We’ll we be in touch.”
Paul shook hands with Claude. As Singleton led him out, he chattered away about discussing the details over lunch. Paul was nodded but only half listened to him. Looking past Singleton’s ingratiating grin, Paul saw Quentin staring at him, his face a dark mask of contempt. As he drove away, Paul wondered not for the first time how they could have developed a kind of sibling rivalry when Quentin didn’t know they were cousins. The enmity that radiated from Quentin was unmistakable and Paul had to admit, he did not like him either. Where Claude was gracious, even charming, in the face of opposition, his grandson was caustic, condescending, and tactless. Quentin made it easy for others to despise him. Paul had been in Beau Chene for only two months. Having seen and spoken to his grandfather only served to deepen his need to know the whole story. He longed to know the Trosclair family history, now part of his family history. Without it, he felt incomplete somehow.His father’s side of the family had been gracious in receiving him. Welcomed to dine with them on several occasions, he found them to be warm, hard working people. Lively talk, jokes, and singing filled their homes. But the one time he mentioned his dealings with the Trosclairs the atmosphere changed suddenly. Joe and George, cousins of his father’s age, shifted nervously before switching to another subject abruptly. And his only living great-uncle grew quiet for the rest of the evening. He had not mentioned the Trosclairs again. He had visited the grave site of his great-grandparents, even the site on which had once stood the home his grandmother had spent her childhood. His work might be finished soon, but he was not ready to leave. Aside from this unfinished family business, there was another attraction holding him to this small river town.More and more, he looked for the beautiful woman whose temper was as hot as Creole gumbo. If he was in town for any reason, each corner he turned made him conscious of how far he was from Antoine’s shop. The memory of her face, brown eyes flashing as she tossed her verbal grenades, caused him to smile in spite of her direct hits on his ego. It bothered him that she saw him as an enemy. He needed her to know that he was not. In a way he had never experience before; he cared what she thought of him. There had to be a way that they could at least be friends. His work might be finished soon, but he was far from being ready to leave.
*****
The small city hall was jam packed with people. They spilled out into the hallway. They had come from the surrounding small towns that would be affected by the plant. Outside, cameras from a station in Lafayette panned across the crowd while a few reporters conducted interviews. A sizable crowd was there representing those who were opposed and those who were in favor of the new plant. Not a few were holding spirited arguments.
Savannah and her father made their way slowly through the crowd. She looked around anxiously as the supporters of the plant appeared to close in on all sides after spotting Antoine.A female reporter turned from a man she had been interviewing in front of a camera and stepped in their path. “Mr. St. Julien, a prominent local citizen has just arrived for the hearing. Several officials from the Department of Environmental Safety will listen to testimony regarding how the people of Vermillion Parish feel about the new plant that has opened. Mr. St. Julien, what exactly will you have to say?”
“What I’ve been saying all along. This is the last thing we need here. We already surrounded by chemical plants and such. They still haven’t cleaned up the old Stower site. And down in Morgan City where Singleton put up another one of these things, they chilren dying of some rare form of leukemia.”
“Do you still maintain that this is a form of environmental racism?”
“Look at where most of the new plants are being located, near small black communities. They don’t think we can or will fight. But we tired of all this pollution.”
“We need jobs. This plant gonna bring almost one hundred new jobs and construction jobs, too!” A man standing nearby shouted angrily.
“We don’t want to die for no job, man. You wanna poison your chilren’s water for a job? It’s time we start looking at other ways to put our people to work.“Antoine answered to applause and shouts of approval from some in the crowd as Antoine pushed his way into the city hall. He linked arms with Savannah so they would not get separated. With help from friends who had gathered early, Savannah and Antoine were able to find standing room along the wall near the microphone set up for members of the public to speak. At the front of the hearing room, three large tables formed a semi-circle of sorts where the twelve members of the local police jury sat. Two men wearing white shirts and ties were seated with them. Savannah glanced around the room and saw him. She waved a return greeting to a group of their neighbors who were directly across from where she stood. Paul smiled and nodded. He spoke briefly to the man seated to his left before heading toward her. Savannah watched his progress, admiring the way he moved in spite of herself. He wore khaki slacks, a white shirt and a navy jacket. The jacket was open, revealing a wine colored leather belt around his narrow waist. He stood taller than most of the other men in the room. Several women ogled him as he passed. When he turned his head to return their greetings, she noticed the way hair curled ever so slightly over his collar. His dark brown skin against the white shirt made a striking, and very appealing contrast.
“Ms. St. Julien. Hello again.” He smiled, a bit tentatively. “Uh, how have you been?”
“Fine. And you?” Savannah shifted from one foot to another, a little suspicious of this new, low key approach of his.
“You look very nice today.” He admired the cornflower blue summer dress. The scoop neck was not revealing, but the gentle rise and fall of her breathing was suggestive of a hidden bounty. A strong urge to touch the soft mound struck him so forcefully he blinked. Sure his thoughts could be read on his face, he pried his gaze away from her. Paul willed himself to tame such lustful ruminations.
“Thanks.” She looked away, embarrassed that he had caught her staring. “Are you scheduled to testify?”
“Yeah, my report is almost finished. Just need a few finishing touches, but the work is done.” He paused and stuck his hands in his pockets. Looking back at her, he found she was still gazing straight ahead at a blank wall. “I don’t guess we’ll be here but maybe two hours at most.”
“Oh, they limit speakers to about five minutes each. Except experts. I suppose that includes you.” She looked down at her dress and smoothed wrinkles that weren’t there.
“I’m going for something to eat after, would you—”
The sound of loud tapping on a microphone cut him off. Paul tried to finish, but was drowned out. Seeing his partner beckoning to him impatiently, he started back to his seat.
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Her answer was just a smile and nod. “Okay, alright. Sorry, excuse me.“He bumped into several people, not surprising since he was walking backwards, unable to look away from that smile. That smile was for him, only for him. Without remembering how he got there, he was back in his seat.
“Testing. It’s working, suh.” A city hall employee passed the microphone to a balding portly man to his right.
“Thank you, Leland. Evenin’ everybody. I’m Shelby Leblanc, Police Jury president. Most of y’all know me.” He bobbed his head to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, this will be an informal hearing for public comment on the new facility operated by Batton Chemical Corporation. We have Jim Garrett and Frank Mouton from the Department of Environmental Quality. Thank you for coming. We will have a presentation from Mr. Kyle Singleton, president of Batton Chemical. But first Mr. Garrett will say a few words.”
“Thank you Mr. Leblanc. The Department of Environmental Quality, as part of its procedures to issues licenses to businesses that receive and handle toxic substances take many factors into consideration. Of course, we consider environmental impact. We have standards that any proposed facility must meet and those standards are based on the t
ype of substances the facility will be dealing with. We also consider the impact on the surrounding community. We at DEQ are very concerned that you have a say into any decision that will affect your town, your neighborhoods. But we must consider economic impact as well. If we do not, we could very well ignore a very real need for jobs in this state and a strong economic base of industry.” He was interrupted briefly by scattered applause.
“Thank you, Mr. Garrett. After the presentation by Batton Chemical, we have time set aside for comments from members in the audience who have registered to state their positions. Each speaker will have five minutes. Mr. Singleton, if you’re ready.”
“Thank you. Just let me begin by saying we at Batton Chemical are very concerned about safety. We have the welfare of the community in mind, not to mention our employees. You have before you a copy of our own report and the independent report from Mr. Paul Honorè of Eco Systems Consultants. I will briefly summarize our plant operations. I will then review the findings of both reports. It will then be quite clear, crystal clear gentlemen, that we meet or exceed industry standards of safety as a recycling facility.“With assistance from a Batton Chemical engineer, Singleton launched into a technical explanation.
“Look like they impressed with all them big words and fancy charts.” A man standing close to Antoine spoke loud enough for only a few to hear.
“All the high an’ mighty talk in the world ain’t gone changed nuthin’. These people gone have a lot to say ‘bout all them chemical they wanna bring here.” Antoine tried to sound confident; he frowned in concentration trying to follow Singleton’s jargon.
“Poppy, did you get anybody that understands all of this to do a report for our side?” Savannah knew environmental law to some extent. She also knew that without a track record of violations to attack, the opponents would have an uphill battle.
“Mencer say they schedule the hearin’ so fast, we didn’t have time. But I don’t think that matter no how. The law say they got to listen to how we feel ‘bout this here.”
“But you need at least some research as ammunition.”
“We got how many people got cancer; how many times we get sick from that old dump site that nobody done nothin’ about. That’s oughta count for somethin’.”
“But—”
“Thank you, Mr. Singleton. Mr. Garrett, Mr. Mouton, do you have any more questions? Then we will take comments from the audience.”
A string of outraged citizens vented their opposition to the proposed plant. Like Antoine, they spoke about the toll cancer had taken on their families and friends. More than one expressed frustration that state officials seemed more inclined to listen to the plant owners. The expressed skepticism at the insistence that no proven connection had been made between certain diseases and the tons of waste discharged by the oil and chemical industry.
“Why for the last thirty years, all these plants been in poor, Black areas like Kentwood, Evangeline, and Bayou Rouge? They passed up River Bend, forty miles down the river road from Iberia. Put that plant smack in poor folks back yards.” Miss Lucille, a statuesque woman the color of dark chocolate, shook her finger at the white men as if scolding children caught being bad, a habit acquired from forty years of teaching.
“Yes, ma’am,” The president of the Police Jury said. The other men nodded respectfully. “Miss Lucille, your time is almost up.”
“I know that Mr. Shelby Leblanc, I’ve been keeping time. You hold on a minute. Antoine, come up here. We need you to talk.” She shooed away several others who had gotten up to speak. They sat back down obediently.
“Wait, now. They done had they chance to talk. Not everybody tryin’ to buck this thing. Ain’t some of us gonna get a chance?” Encouraged by a few voices of assent, a wiry man with limp brown hair stood. From his weather beaten skin, it was clear he had spent much time in the hot Louisiana sun.
“We want to hear everybody’s side to this, Manny. Go head.” The police jury president nodded for him to go on.
“One thing ain’t been said, that is we need jobs down here. Every one of them what’s spoke up against this here plant, they ain’t been out of work for months. Now this man done said can’t nothin’ show what y’all been sayin’ about it being, how you say, unsafe for the environment. Now if y’all can’t prove what you sayin’, and we need jobs then I say let ‘em build it. It’s plenty us that barely makin’.”
“That’s right!” a short man shouted from the back.
“I got a family to feed,” another man yelled.
“And I tell you this; it’s a lot more than me that feel this way.” There were shouts and applause to support Manny’s assertion.“We need jobs bad, real bad. Nobody said we didn’t.” Antoine spoke from where he stood, his voice ringing clear even without the microphone. “But they play on that so we don’t ask too many questions. They figure we gone be so grateful that we take anything and too ignorant to know enough to think past gettin’ a job to what that job gone do to our health.”
“Who you callin’ ignorant?” Manny spun around to face Antoine.
“Don’t take that stuff offa him, man,” a gruff male voice spoke over Antoine’s shoulder.At the same time someone shoved Antoine toward Manny who swung wildly at him. Antoine received a glancing blow that caused his head to snap back. A woman swung her large handbag to hit Manny. She missed him, but smacked one of his defenders full in the face. Suddenly a wild free for all with shouting, shoving, and a few punches landing, broke out. Savannah tried frantically to push through the press of scuffling bodies to her father. Paul tried wading through to her shouting that she should get back. As he reached for her, a stocky man rose from nowhere to deliver a right jab to his jaw. Savannah somehow managed to get behind the attacker and gave him a sharp kick to the back of both knees. He went down like a sack of potatoes, falling against another man who slammed him in the mid section. Savannah stepped on his back to reach Paul’s side. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her away from the crowd. He pushed her behind the table where the two state officials stood looking desperately for a safe way out.
“Stay here,” he shouted over the din and went back into the fracas.Paul found Antoine quickly enough, but had to fight several men to get him free. They joined Savannah at the front of the auditorium just as several sheriff’s deputies arrived.
“Galee, if dis ain’t a mess!” Sheriff Triche paused to look around in amazement. “What y’all waitin’ on? Get on in dere an’ break dis up.” He shouted to his men at the same time he grabbed two sweating combatants and pried them apart.
Paul tried to lead Savannah and her father out by a side door, but was blocked by a deputy.
“Don’t nobody leave here till we sort out who done what to who.” Sheriff Triche took out a large striped handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat dripping from his chin. His plump face was red from exertion.
“I tell you right now, he the one started it.” Manny, his shirt torn open with all the buttons gone, pointed at Antoine. “I’m filin’ charges on him, sheriff.”
Loud voices on both sides of the fight competed to be heard. The Sheriff shouted several times before restoring order.
“Manny, number one, much as I done picked you up offa the floor after you done started a fight you couldn’t finish, if somebody hit you then they probably had a reason.” Low grumbling could be heard. Manny scowled but didn’t speak. “Number two, when I come in Antoine wasn’t nowhere near you. But I saw you punchin’ on Floyd. Fact, I’m gonna issue a whole bunch of disturbin’ the peace citations before I let anybody go on home.”
“That ain’t right, no. I wanna file charges on him! You s’pose to enforce the law,” Manny barked.
“Enforce the law, huh? Okay, since you ain’t done paid the last fine for brawlin’ over at the Gator Bar and Grill, since you was released without paying no bond for public drunkenness last month, I b’leive we gone start enforcin’ the law with you.” Sheriff Triche stared at him hard while Manny squirmed.
&
nbsp; “You ain’t worth the trouble, old man,” Manny snarled, not daring to look at the sheriff.
For the next hour, the deputies issued citations. Paul insisted he follow them home in case Manny and his friends decided to pursue them and continue the fight. Later Paul, Antoine, and Savannah were seated around the kitchen table at Antoine’s house. As they drank strong coffee, Tante Marie pumped them for details.
“Lord, a wonder somebody didn’t get killed. But I’m thankful nobody got hurt bad. Bet Miss Lucille left her mark on few behinds though.” Tante Marie chuckled.
“I swear, that old lady cleared a path. Last time I saw her, she was walking out of there without a scratch not long after the fight started.” Paul smiled.
“Well, I just hope we got enough said to them DEQ people for them not to renew that permit. That Claude Trosclair got more up his sleeve than a magician, yeah. Got a permit to recycle so he don’t have to follow all them strict regulations for handling that, how you call, toxic waste.” Antoine frowned into his coffee cup.
“But how did he get by with that? I mean Big River is taking in waste from other plants, construction sites that can’t be disposed of like other waste materials. Seems as though the state should be concerned about how that was is being disposed of once they get it. I looked over the research on this slag. It’s conflicting, some of the studies show the material is potentially dangerous, others say not,” Savannah said.
“Singleton claims that the high heat used in the kilns for burning that stuff makes it into a safe material that can be used. Like you say, we can show ‘em what some of the studies say. But he can turn around and show just as many that say different. I just don’t know how it’s gone come out.” Antoine took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Savannah got up to examine his head for bruises or swelling.
“Quit fussin’ now. I done told you I’m okay. The day I can’t take a punch from scraggly butt Manny Langlois is the day you can put me out to pasture.”
