I froze.
Leadership.
Beside her, an older man snored softly in his chair, a stack of flyers sliding dangerously close to the floor.
“Mr. Hemsley,” Marjorie said loudly. “They’re here.”
He jolted awake, clapped once enthusiastically, and smiled at the wall. “Excellent. I told you they would come.”
Lydia beamed. “We wouldn’t miss it.”
I swallowed. “I’m sorry, I think there may have been a misunderstanding.”
Marjorie waved me off kindly. “Oh no, dear. Lydia explained everything. You’re our lead organizers.”
I turned slowly toward my sister.
“You volunteered us as leads,” I murmured with a disbelieving look.
“Well,” Lydia said, tilting her head. “Someone has to be the lead organizer. Why not us?”
I put a hand to my temple, trying to stillthe sudden pounding of my head.
Marjorie pulled out a binder thick enough to double as a weapon. “We’ve already distributed the flyers. The town is very excited about the festival. We just need some direction on the order of events, who is doing what, and where to source any supplies.”
Mr. Hemsley nodded solemnly. “Yes. Direction.”
My heart hammered in my chest as I looked around the room. There was no quiet way out of this. There were about thirty people looking expectantly at us.
“Just who is all here? Are they all on the committee?” I wondered.
“No dear. It’s the four of us who are the committee. They are all volunteers waiting to sign up for whatever jobs we need done. It’s up to us to figure out what needs doing,” Marjorie told us.
“Why don’t we follow whatever happened last year?” I managed to ask. “Surely you have a basic plan since the talent show is an annual event.”
“Our previous head of the committee took the notebook with her when she moved. She tried to ship it back to us, but according to the tracking information, it’s currently in a post office in Alaska,” Mr. Humphries told us.
“Alaska? That’s cool,” Lydia commented.
It was not cool.
I sat down because I wasn’t sure my legs would keep me up any more.
Marjorie opened her binder with a decisive snap and began sliding papers across the folding table toward Lydia and me. “We managed to find an online form for signing up for the talent show and the legal waiver. So, we’ll need you to confirm the sound setup, finalize the performer list, coordinate volunteers, and approve the timeline.”
I stared at the papers as if they might rearrange themselves into something simpler if I waited long enough.
“Of course,” Lydia said, nodding confidently. “We can do that.”
I turned to her. “We can?”
“Yes,” she said. “Collectively.”
Marjorie leaned closer to me. “You’ll be handling logistics, correct?”
My mouth opened. Nothing came out.
Mr. Hemsley cleared his throat loudly and said, “I agree.”
