I explained my current case and Carl set me up at a table with a stack of old records. I began at the beginning, making notes on strange bylaws, eliminating the ones that were later rescinded. If cigarette smoke is bad for one’s health, what does library dust do? I considered buying a gas mask, but I was afraid of the reaction if someone came in unexpectedly while I was wearing it. Besides, the volumes were not badly coated in dust because, I presumed, this is where Councillor Rader, or more likely one of his flunkeys, had found the obsolete bylaws he revelled in enforcing. I couldn’t imagine an important politician poring over these old records himself.
Much of the reading was dull, but occasionally there were bits that were interesting and even humorous. Some of the silliest were one that required the hem of a woman’s skirt to touch her shoes when she walked to church and another that forbade male teachers from sporting moustaches. After two and a half days, I was finished and I had a document that was, for me, as important as the plans for the D-Day invasion.
I thanked Carl for letting me use the archives and he thanked me for removing another layer of dust from the Council minutes. Then I went to my office and called Ifor. The next Council meeting was only two days away, so I arranged to meet him at his house that afternoon to plan our strategy. I also told him we would need four seniors who were extroverts and who still had sharp wits.
When I arrived, the quartet of crusaders was there, sipping tea and chatting. I had brought two boxes of assorted doughnuts, hoping that no one was on a diet or had allergies. None was or had.
Ifor made the introductions. Polly Mathis had gray-blue hair and, while quiet, seemed to be a two-legged encyclopedia. Vera Sterne had a steely smile and wore a tee-shirt that said: “I’m a senior–junior.” Curtis Strong looked like a body-building champion, but spoke like a professor. Dieter Meindt looked and talked like an active army officer of at least a colonel’s rank. They shared one characteristic besides age: all had been victims of Councillor Rader.
I gave them each a sheet and explained their rôles at the council meeting. They were all keen to participate.
Two nights later, when the meeting was called to order, they were all in the front row, as eager as racehorses in the starting gate. There were more spectators than usual, many of them seniors, but also Carl, his girl-friend Sally and Amanda Friend with some man I did not recognize.
