“Mr. Mayor.” I don’t call him “dad,” intentionally. “I think we’re getting off track here.”
Laughter sounds in the room at my involuntary pun, but I don’t let that distract me.
“The young man is right, Scott.” Miss Conrad, one of the oldest members of the council, intervenes. “You can discuss your personal feelings with your family at home, on your own time. But as far as this council is concerned, we have a formal petition we have to address. As not to waste our time any further, I suggest we get on with the debate if anyone wishes to speak in favor or against this motion, and then vote. It’s my book club night, and it was finally my turn to choose the book we had toread. If you make me miss my book club meeting, I’m going to be very unhappy.”
Miss Conrad was my elementary school teacher.
Her commanding tone is still terrifying despite her old age. She’s been on the council ever since she retired from teaching, wanting to continue serving her community.
Everyone on the council holds her in the highest regard, and Dad is no exception.
“You’re right, Ethel. My apologies. Very well, let’s begin debating this motion. I’m going to start. No.” He looks at the three of us when he says that last word. “Lifting the motorcycle ban would be a mistake. Ever since we introduced it, our town has benefited from it in every aspect. Pollution, noise, petty crime and road safety have decreased significantly, and this is thanks to the ban. But most importantly, our youth has been kept safe from the horrific accidents that have changed so many young lives. Accidents that in some cases have claimed our young citizens’ lives.”
His voice is raspy at the end, as he’s clearly struggling to contain his emotions.
Everyone in town knows which young life he’s talking about.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve always considered my dad strong, almost invincible. Especially in my early years, when Mom was still alive and Dad was still playing pro hockey, he was who I wanted to become one day. I’ve always looked up to him, admiring his strength and resilience.
I was still young when we lost Mom, but Dad did everything he could to make us feel loved and safe. He retired from hockey and devoted himself to me and my brothers.
That felt almost like a confirmation that nothing could ever defeat my father. Until Atlas.
Losing one of his sons broke him, and maybe I haven’t realized to what extent until today.
“Allowing motorcycles back in our town would be a huge mistake. If I had known about this petition in advance, I could have prepared a proper presentation to show you the kinds of horrific injuries and fatalities caused by motorcycles in our state, country and worldwide. But before you vote,” he concludes, looking at the council members on either side of him. “I encourage you to take out your phones and perform a simple search. So you can see firsthand what I’m talking about. I urge you to vote to reject the entirety of the proposal in this petition. Protect our town from the crime, the noise, the danger that are synonymous with motorcycles.”
The town clerk calls for anyone else who would like to talk in favor or against the motion.
We rehearsed this with Lev’s parents, so I do my best to sound confident when I begin presenting our plan.
“We don’t disagree with the mayor about some of the dangerous aspects of motorcycles. But we don’t believe that the answer is a total ban. Allowing motorcycles in a controlled environment, like a racetrack, will greatly reduce the risk of serious accidents. If you look at your copy of our proposal,” I say, trying to make eye contact with as many of the council members as I can. “You can see that the proposed racetrack will be built with every modern safety measure in existence. To protect the public, both motorists and pedestrians, we propose lowering the speed limit for motorcycles within city limits to fifteen miles per hour regardless of traffic conditions; and ten miles per hour at a road crossing. These measures, together with the laws and regulations already in place in the state legislature, would reduce risks to a reasonable level.”
I signal to Lev to take over from me in explaining the ways the racetrack will be an asset to the whole town.
“Under a business standpoint,” his tone is confident. “The racetrack we propose to open would create jobs and benefit ourtown’s economy in general. Races will attract people who will pay to watch the races, but that’s just the beginning. They will use our town’s hospitality resources, eat in our restaurants and spend in our shops even when the high season is over. Star Cove has always relied on the tourists who come to enjoy our pristine beaches and beautiful coastline, but many establishments are open only in the summer months. With the increased number of visitors that the racetrack would attract, the shops on the pier and many hotels and B&B’s could stay open year round. In turn, that would bring more revenue to the city itself.”
Several council members are whispering to each other, considering what we just explained.
But Dad isn’t going to make it easy for us. I know what he’s about to say before he says it.
Lev’s parents helped us prepare this presentation the same way they prepared their clients to take the stand in court. So we’re ready for all the objections that will come from the mayor and his political supporters. We’re ready to be treated as hostile witnesses.
“That’s a nice little plan,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “But there are several things you kids haven’t considered.”
I resist the urge to smile at his provocation. Christopher and Rachel warned us that our father would probably use our young age to discredit our proposal; and any heated reaction would play into his attempt to make us look immature in front of the council.
“What are they?” I ask, keeping my tone calm, my expression neutral.
“First of all,” he says. “The land you plan to use for your racetrack is private property. How are you going to acquire that land? But that isn’t the only thing you haven’t considered. That racetrack was built for cars, and it hasn’t been used for over fiftyyears, since it closed in the early 1970s. It’s full of potholes, and all the buildings that used to serve the racetrack have fallen into disrepair. The work necessary to turn that relic into a modern day racetrack would cost millions of dollars. Where are you going to get all that money?”
I let Ares answer that question. “I’ll begin from the mayor’s last observation, if I may.” My brother addresses the council rather than our father. “We have a business partner who has already purchased the land and all the amenities currently present on it from the old owners. If you look at your copy of our proposal on page seventeen, you’ll see that everything is in order. Our partner is funding all the work necessary to restore Star Cove’s racetrack to its old glory days. And as for how we think the racetrack will benefit Star Cove, you’ll find our initial plan on page twenty-five and onwards.”
Zara
Scott looks like he has just seen a ghost when he looks at the pages Ares just mentioned.
“You got a deal with the Super Bikes League?” the mayor is holding the folder with his copy of our proposal with white-knuckle force.
