“You aren’t going to sit with Mom?” I ask as my dad blows Mom a kiss.
“Nope. I’m not sitting with the biddies from school,” Dad answers as he waves politely to Mom’s school friends. “If you think the newsletter is awful gossip, just wait until you work for the school.”
“No thanks,” Cash and I say together. We share a grin.
The crowd piling in hushes as the ‘town officials’ walk in the front door. Most are the people who are usually at the front, including Taylor. Chatter picks up louder this time as everyone tries to talk over each other while still trying to whisper.
“Ohh,” Dad says. “This is going to be interesting.”
“An apology, maybe?” Laiken suggests.
“Have you ever known Taylor to apologize?” I ask. “In more than a gaslighting statement, of course.”
“I’m sorry you feel this way,” Cash mimics.
Dad snorts.
Our town officials aren’t actually truly elected officials on the islands. These are privately owned islands without an actual form of government outside the owners. But the Calloways arecool as shit and try to create an environment where everyone is happy. They understand the concept that if their employees are happy, then that makes for a happy resort experience.
Which means people keep coming back. The resort expands. Popularity grows, and business is booming. That’s good for everyone involved.
The town officials are semi-elected, meaning that more than one person needs to recommend someone, but it’s ultimately the Calloways discretion who is in any position at any time. The officials act as liaisons between the Calloways and the residents, one from each island. As with elected officials all over the world, they’re supposed to look out for our best interests and speak on our behalf.
Which I think is why everyone has been so frustrated with Taylor for the last… hmm, how many years now? Six? Seven? When did he marry Jackson?
The noise level climbs and then drops dramatically when Winter Calloway himself steps inside.
“Oh my,” Dad murmurs under his breath. “This iscertainlygoing to be interesting.”
Cash and I nod. Definitely interesting.
“Good evening,” Mr. Calloway greets. A chorus or repeated ‘good evening’ fills the room. He smiles. “Is this a regular turn out?”
“A little more crowded tonight,” Gianni, the representative of Keone Reef, says. He’s trying to hide his smirk. “But we always have a lot of healthy involvement from the community.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mr. Calloway says, smiling at the crowd. “I’ve always wanted to make Kala a welcome, happy place for everyone, which includes a lot of input from the community. I’m happy that at least that has come to fruition.”
Quiet murmurs break out for a second before silence falls again.
“I’m going to begin by apologizing. The reason I have set up the structure of Kala the way I have, with representatives from each island to speak to me on your behalf, is because I’m not interested in running an empire by dictatorship. That’s not how to build a thriving business or community. I don’t want to foster unrest. I don’t want to see a constant turnover in positions. Fair pay and compensation are only part of what makes a happy and healthy environment. Your home life, in good balance, is a big part of that. It seems to me there’s been a breakdown, creating an ever-expanding void that’s grown consistently over the last handful of years, and now that it’s been brought to my attention, I want you all to know I’m going to make it right.”
“You only just learned of Taylor’s treachery?” someone from our right whispers loudly in disbelief.
The entire room turns their attention to him, and he hunches in his chair a little. In his defense, there’s almost always muttering happening when Taylor is behind the podium.
Mr. Calloway inclines his head. “For complete transparency, I will explain. As you know, my grandfather purchased Kala many years ago, hoping to create a safe place for our community to vacation without the glares, hatred, and stares. What you may not know is that he did so because of the abuse his brother took as an out man in an unforgiving 1970s era. Why should we be persecuted for being born the way we are?”
“Here!” several in the room cheer.
Mr. Calloway bows his head. “So he bought Kala and was determined to make it a place where his brother was safe to be who he was. It began as a small single island that my grandfather built a dozen huts on, so his brother and his brother’s friends had a place to go. We’re closing on fifty years of exponential growth as we create this paradise for the LGBTQIA+ community.”
The entire room fills with loud cheers, whistles, and clapping. Cash and I stomp our feet on the ground to add to the excited noise.
“This is the energy I always want on Kala. I want you to be proud to be a part of this space we’ve created. My grandfather didn’t set up a specific succession line. For each new generation, the successor of Kala is decided based on their vision for Kala. We want to keep Grandpa’s dream alive. We want there to always be this safe space. This happy place. That’s how my uncle came into the reins before me and how I followed him.
“In that time, I’m sure you can imagine that the business grew rapidly, expanding to thousands of employees and several thousand guests on any given day. That means it’s a whole lot for one person to oversee. My uncle started delegating specific people from the community to act as ley persons, making sure that even though there are so many of you—I’m afraid I do not know you all personally as my grandfather did when he began the resort—you still have a voice. Your concerns, wants, and needs are heard and addressed.
“I changed the game a little and created the semi-elections because I want to know whoyousee as someone authentically representing your voice. It’s all well and good if I think someone will do a good job, but I’m not too proud to admit that I only know a fraction of my residents, try as I may to get around and visit everyone, everywhere.
