“Stubborn goat,” Willie muttered fondly.
“Pushy mule,” Chester replied. Then she turned to the group behind her. “All right, C.O.C.K.s, we’re going to have to move our meetings to Friday at nine.”
“Like it’s always been?” someone in the middle of her crowd asked.
“Really?” I asked. “Really?”
Bertie just sighed andtsked.
I wondered if Chester had been angling for the bowling match time change all along. “Anyone have complications with that time?” she asked.
“Classes start soon,” another voice said, this time a man.
“We’ll make sure we adjust our meeting time for the autumn when that happens. Now, let’s pack it up and roll it out. I’ll see you all here tomorrow, soon as the cock crows.”
That, apparently, was the signal for everyone to break out their best rooster-doodle-doos.
“Astounding,” Bathin, behind me, close enough I could hear his near-whisper. “Although I would have had more fun if a war had broken out.”
“This isn’t about you and this isn’t about fun.”
“Oh, that’s right. You can’t feel those kinds of emotions any more. Isn’t that sad?”
I considered throwing an elbow at his head.
“Is that a solution you can live with?” I asked Bertie instead.
“Yes, thank you, Delaney, but there is one more issue I need to address with the clubs. Have you noticed the yarn bombings around town?”
“Bombings?”
“Knitted and crocheted decorations in public areas?”
“Oh. Yeah, I’ve seen a couple.”
“I need to know if you’re going to allow those to remain.”
“It’s not like you to beat around the bush, Bertie. What are you angling for?”
“I’d like to encourage the C.O.C.K.s and K.I.N.K.s to explore their rivalry in a more public and useful way over the remaining weeks of summer.”
“A contest?” She must have noticed the fleeting horror on my face. I’d gotten roped into judging the annual rhubarb rally and had not enjoyed it.
While judging fiber craft might not make me want to wash my mouth out with sand paper, the participants were basically gang members armed with pointy and hooked weapons.
Nope. I wasn’t going to willingly incite violence among the fiber fiends.
“Yes, a contest. I’m shocked you feel that strongly about it, considering your condition.”
“Is there any other way you could have phrased that?”
“Yes. I chose not to. My proposal is that we challenge the C.O.C.K.s and K.I.N.K.s to decorate the downtown area along the main road. I’ll of course set boundaries. Anything I deem in bad taste will be removed immediately. Nothing will obstruct the flow of pedestrians, nothing will obstruct access to businesses or parking. I’ll vet it with the businesses too. Those that wish to opt out will remain untouched.”
“You’ve put some thought into this, I see.”
“It’s been on the back burner. But since they’ve already declared war on each other, I thought we could use the battle to Ordinary’s advantage.”
“I think we just ended the war.”
