Buttercup brays, drowning out my objection.
Lucky stands, pulling up a PowerPoint on his phone. “I’d like to propose myself as the Ball’s centerpiece.”
Winnie and I exchange identical looks of panicked concern.
“Specifically,” Lucky continues, “a statue of me. Holding a Gus the squirrel figurine.”
“You want a statue of yourself holding a squirrel? That would require special permits.” Elmer looks apoplectic.
“Not a live squirrel. A carved one as part of the statue, showing my dedication to Huckleberry Hill’s heritage.”
“Do you have any idea of the costs incurred? Cement has gone through the roof, never mind marble,” Elmer sputters as if it were Winnie and my idea.
“Worth every penny,” Lucky says firmly.
For the next ten minutes, the council argues about squirrels, Lucky’s statue pose, and whether the chickaree should be smiling cheekily or have its chest puffed up with pride.
I look at Winnie. She looks at me.
“Are you witnessing this?” she says through gritted teeth.
“Unfortunately.” I swipe my hand across my forehead.
Mayor Barbie brings over her fabric swatches. Elmer produces a pie chart about décor to dollar ratios. Gail tries to sage Buttercup, who kicks over a metal trash can.
Winnie’s voice cuts through the chaos with surprising authority as she holds up the folder with all of our plans. “This is what we’re doing. No neon lights. No changes to the color or theme. No to Lucky’s statue?—”
“Oh, I see how it is,” Lucky protests with a grumble.
Winnie continues, “—but yes to an amazing night of fun for our community.”
The chatter lowers to a hush.
She continues as she pulls out squirrel merchandise, “Plus, I have a gift for everyone.”
That silences all those in attendance.
She dispenses samples of stickers, enamel pins, a frisbee, a mug, a tote bag, and more, all while explaining the new merch that we’re debuting at the Fire & Ice Fest, but she adds that we will also have items available at a table during the Fireman’s Ball for additional revenue.
Everyone buzzes excitedly about the free stuff.
Before we fully lose their attention, I say, “No sage during the event. But we will use battery-powered LED candles that look like flame but won’t set off alarms or violate fire code.”
“What about my burro?” Silver Sam asks.
“Buttercup can be in the promotional photos,” Winnie says diplomatically. “Outside the venue.”
“And my chicory cider?” Sam follows up, hopeful.
“We will already be providing food and beverages. Free of charge.”
Silver Sam considers this. “Fair.”
Mayor Barbie bangs her gavel. “Motion carried. Meeting adjourned.”
Winnie mutters, “Before anything else ridiculous happens.”
As we file out, Elmer Finch actually shakes my hand. “Good work keeping the budget reasonable.”
