Mr. Clueless

Mr. Clueless By R.W. Clinger May 2 In the basement of the town hall, I volunteered as a foreman, standing in front of the Neighborhood Hero Award Committee (NHAC), and told my fellow members/citizens of Plimpton, “We all know Cane Mercer saved three children from a fire last month. If anyone deserves the NHA this year, he does.” Seven women and men gawked at me as if I had three heads. I wanted to roll my eyes, but didn’t. Sherry Dixon, the mother of three and the wife of a dentist, asked me, “Does that put him in the running for the Neighborhood Hero Award?”‘ I declared, “I personally think it does. Cane risked his life for the Mackenbaugh family. Those children would have died if he hadn’t saved them.” Rocky Susa, a writer for the Plimpton Caller, stood, coughed, and groaned. “It’s all hypothetical. The Plimpton Fire Department arrived at the Mackenbaugh residence three minutes after Mr. Mercer. We have a strong fire force in this community who would have saved those children. Mercer is trying to obtain some fame when he shouldn’t.” I despised the journalist. I bit my bottom lip and held my tongue from saying something stupid. “The PFD didn’t save the Mackenbaugh children, though. Cane Mercer did. There’s video on YouTube to prove his actions.” Someone else stood. A new face. Female. Pretty like Taylor Swift. Expensive glasses. Nice curves. “As you know, I’m new to this committee, recently elected. If I may say so, I agree with Mark. Cane Mercer should be our Neighborhood Hero this year. None of us present today can say we saved three children’s lives.” Thank God! At least someone was listening to me. The city’s leading librarian, and the owner of eight cats, Gloria Stippen, stood, blinked a few times, waved a finger at me, and pointed it at the blonde who had just spoken. “TS over there is biased! Cane Mercer just so happens to be her first cousin!” I called out to the group, “This decision is not rigged! Don’t forget that we all get to vote this evening.” Someone said, “Sit down, Stippen.” Gloria spun her head in the direction of the voice, sneered, and hissed like one of her beloved felines. “Rocky, was that you?” Rocky shook his head. Whispering started. I gained control of the group and called out, “Listen, everyone! We have three candidates for this award. Josh Bender, regarding his charity work for the homeless. Kate Nicholson for her military career. And Cane Mercer for saving three children from a burning fire. Each of you have a yellow index card and a pencil. I want you to vote who you feel should win this award. After you write down the person’s name, fold the index card in half. I will come around to pick it up.” The half circle of members bowed their heads and took the next two minutes to write down their votes. I also voted, writing Cane Mercer’s name down. Afterward, I walked around the room and collected the index cards, one by one, and returned to the front of the room. “I’ll read off the votes just like Jeff Probst does on Survivor.” Gloria Stippen said, “I don’t watch that show. It’s rubbish. Trash. I’m more of a Downton Abbey viewer.” Of course, she was. Someone told her to keep her trap shut. I unfolded the index cards one after the next and read, “Three votes for Josh. Three votes for Kate. And three votes for Cane. One of you voted for Rocky.” Rocky laughed. Gloria spun her head in Rocky’s direction. “You pompous asshole. You voted for yourself, didn’t you?” Rocky continued to laugh. I told the group to calm down as confused chatter started. Sherry Dixon asked me, “Mark, what do the bylaws say when there’s a three-way tie?” “I’m supposed to close out the meeting, and we take a new vote at the next meeting. In the meantime, although this isn’t in the bylaws, I suggest you get to know the three candidates a little better. It may change the second vote.” Gloria sighed. “I don’t have time for this baloney. I’m a busy lady.” “Shut up, Gloria,” someone mumbled. I think it was Rocky. She spun her attention at Rocky again and said, “That better not have been you, Rocky. If you know what’s best for you.” Enough was enough. I closed out the meeting and told everyone goodbye. “We meet back here on the tenth. Seven in the evening. Don’t be late. Attendance is mandatory since there will be a second vote for the NHA, people!”