Episode 28: Yard Signs

You are walking through a gentle November rain with your neighbor Grace, who is pulling her family’s careworn red wagon with wooden side panels. The two of you are gathering political yard signs from the houses on your block. Election Day has come and gone this past Tuesday, and the candidates for your local school board have finished their campaigns. The red and yellow leaves around you are bowing low under the weight of the raindrops, and you feel a chill in the air as you draw your insulated raincoat tighter around you. You smell a hint of fabric softener on the breeze, and you take a deep breath.

Grace says to you, “This school board election was a real contest. I can’t remember the last time I saw this many signs out in the neighborhood. I think we’d better stop for warm drinks at Cafe Frances. Can I buy you a chai or a cup of hot cocoa?”

You say, “Oh, yes, a chai would be perfect right now. Thank you!”

When you reach College Avenue, Grace parks the wagon under an awning, and the two of you step inside the cafe, shaking the rain off your coats just inside the door. Grace holds up two fingers to the barista, and then motions with her thumb to the door behind you. The barista nods, and scribbles on a pair of matching to-go cups. The cafe is busy as usual, and there are two baristas plus a cashier managing the counter. Grace pays for the drinks, which arrive swiftly, and you take a long sip of your karak chai. You taste cardamom and ginger, and you feel the sweet and frothy tea warm you from the inside. The two of you step back out into the rain, continuing on to Catto Elementary School to deliver your collection of signs.

Inside the school gym, dozens of kids are making birdhouses out of the sturdy cardboard signs, which are required by town ordinance to be made of materials that are suitable for just this purpose. There is a long table at one end of the room reserved for adults, where you and Grace sit down facing each other. There are two other people sitting there already, both of whom look somewhat familiar to you. As you settle into your seat, you smell the familiar scent of school glue, and you take in the humming energy of the room with an easy breath.

The first of the people sitting next to you, an older man, says to his seatmate, “I suppose there’s no rush in making the kids move up to the middle school. You only get to be a kid once.”

The younger woman sitting across from him nods and says, “That’s true, but we’ll have to solve the space pressures here in Catto one way or another. It doesn’t really help to keep the fifth graders in this building if they’re jammed in like sardines.”

Grace clears her throat and says, “Charlie, Becca, I’d like you to meet my neighbor.”

They turn to face you and say, “Hello, You! Are you ready to make some birdhouses?”

You say, “Yes, I’ve been looking forward to this. I just moved to town in the spring, so this is my first election season here.”

Becca gives you a warm smile and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My friend Charlie and I were just rehashing the campaign.”

You say, “Oh, were you closely involved?”

Charlie laughs ruefully and says, “You could say that. We ran against each other.” Suddenly, you connect names, faces, and the ballot you filled out on Tuesday.

You say, “Forgive me. I’m still getting to know everyone.”

Becca waves a hand at you and says, “Pish posh. It’s a myth that we all know each other in town. I grew up here, but when I was campaigning, I met a bunch of people I’d never seen before.”

Charlie asks you, “Did you vote?”

You lower your gaze to avoid eye contact with both of them, and you say, “I did.”

Charlie says, “Hey, it’s not like that. I lost to Becca, and we disagree pretty strongly on whether or not the fifth grade should be moved up to the middle school. But we’re not angry with each other. We can agree to disagree.”

Becca adds, “And we both think the other person makes some good points. I’m opposed to moving them up, but I agree with Charlie that we need to worry about overcrowding here at Catto. I just think we should solve it another way.”

You tilt your head as you meet Becca’s gaze, and you say, “That’s cool. I’m just not used to this….”

Charlie finishes your sentence by saying, “This kind of politics?” You nod your head, and Charlie says, “Well, most of us agree on the big picture, which is, it’s good for everybody when the town is growing, and it’s also good for everybody when we are generous with our kids. How about you - do you feel the same way?”

You say, “Yes, that all sounds right to me.”

One of the schoolkids marches over to the table, hands on their hips, and asks loudly, “Do you need some help getting started?”

The adults trade a look and suppress a giggle as Grace says, “No, Sam, we just got distracted talking. We’ll get to work. Thank you.” The four of you put your heads down, giving your attention to the rough-cut panels of birdhouse walls on the table in front of you. As you turn some of the cardboard panels in your hands, looking at the printed words YES and NO adorning them and feeling their rough texture, you take a measured breath.

Without lifting his head, Charlie mutters toward Becca, “If I had to lose, I’m glad I lost to you. I know you’ll do right by the kids.”

Becca reaches out to squeeze Charlie’s hand, and says, “Thank you, friend. Please pass me the glue.”