“You must be Caleb.” Mercy sat next to Adele. “Thank you for helping our East End. Everyone, I’ve cut up the pie and cake and set out plates for whenever we’re ready.”
“We’re going to be the slums of Sea Blue Beach if we’re not careful,” Ivan said. “Or worse. Bulldozed, like Mac Diamondwants. The Starlight will be all that’s left of the Org. Homestead. My great-grandparents lived there when my grandpa was born. But mark my words, if we don’t get on the ball, one day they’ll get the whole downtown. The Blue Plate, the Fish Hook, the Sands Motor Motel.”
“We don’t technically own the Starlight, remember?” Simon said. “Prince Blue deeded the rink and the land it stands on to his home country. The Starlight is safe.”
“We can’t ignore the fact that the West End revenue makes up a majority of the town budget,” Duke said. “We’ve let them steer the ship for too long. It won’t be easy to pull them back.”
“What Duke said.” Caleb scrolled through the scattering of notes on his iPad. “This Main Street initiative should help balance the scales. I’ve talked with some Main Street cities and—”
Emery Quinn swept into the museum and without trying, Caleb suddenly relaxed.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I got lost.”
“Lost? In Sea Blue Beach?”
Easy there,Ivan.Caleb motioned for her to sit next to him. “Everyone, this is Emery Quinn, the new editor-in-chief of theGazette.”
Ivan pursed his lips and sounded “Taps” out the side of his mouth.
“Hush, Ivan,” Adele said. “TheGazetteis well respected.”
“Ever since Rachel passed, it’s a rag. Some days there’s no ads. Just tiny print of what the ad was supposed to be.” Ivan leaned toward Emery. “Ain’t y’all paying attention to what you send to the printing press?”
“Yes, we are,” Emery said. “And hopefully, Mr.—”
“Ivan, just call me Ivan.”
“—Ivan, no more missing ads.”
“You hope,” he said.
“Okay, let’s give Emery a break,” Caleb said, “and focus on why we’re here.”
Simon presented a budget to the group, and Caleb presented his initial list for revitalizations: replacing the rusting Victorian streetlamps, applying for historical markers, mending the broken bricks of Sea Blue Way, adding planters and banners, and getting the empty storefronts filled.
“Can we string those lights, you know, like folks have in their backyard, across Sea Blue Way?” Mercy said. “I saw it done on one of those home shows.”
“Now you’re talking,” Ivan said with an exaggerated eye roll. “Good thinking. Lights will save the East End.”
Double easy there,Ivan.
“I like the idea.” Caleb added it to his list. “We can also ask shop owners to freshen up their front façades. Some of the money should go to those projects.”
“Best make sure you distribute funds equally, or you’ll have owners fighting like they did in ’62, when Doyle’s Auto Shop opened up and Garrett from the haberdashery thought it unfair Doyle got a bigger tax break.”
“Noted,” Caleb said with a glance at Simon. “In the meantime, we need incentives to increase business. One idea is to ask shops and restaurants to stay open late one night a week to draw in customers. Right now, the Blue Plate and the Fish Hook, along with the rink, are the only businesses open after seven o’clock.”
“We used to do street parties,” Mercy said. “Why not do that again?”
“I remember those from when I was a kid.” Caleb addedstreet partiesto his list. “They were fun.”
“What about a mural?” Adele said. “I saw that on a home show too.”
“One that depicts our town history,” Mercy added.
“I like it.” Duke’s deep, bassy confidence settled on all of them. “It’s visual. People canseewhat we’re about on this end of town. Maybe a bit of affection for the East End will spill over to the West Enders.”
When Simon offered the east-facing side of Doyle’s Auto Shop to be the canvas, the group started buzzing with ideas.
