You Can't Always Get What You Want

Jake ambled into the Double R Tavern at five on as was his custom. He ordered a cheeseburger, fries and a Sierra Nevada on draft because it was Thursday. Nodded a hello to Duke behind the bar and made his way to the booth close to the kitchen door in the back. The Double R was a prototype west Texas small town bar. When Duke bought it back in the sixties, he decided it looked just fine and reordered rather than redecorated. Well, that wasn't totally true. He considered the neon Pyramid Beer sign given to him by the sales rep in 1999 to have brought his place into the new millenium. Jake was looking at the Pyramid sign now though not really seeing it. He trying to decide whether or not he had enough time after dinner to stop by Les Anderson's office to pay the vet what he owed for his last ranch call. Les had helped usher in one of his new calves that didn't seem to want to come into the world. After 15 hours of hard labor, Jake wondered that the mama had even wanted to see her offspring let alone supple. But within minutes of dropping, all seemed forgiven and forgotten, and mama nestled her baby. The wonder of it seemed lost to Les. Maybe he had seen it too often. Jake's glance was pulled from the sign down to the white haired woman coming toward him. She carried a draft in one hand and an iced tea in the other. Oh, oh, he was in trouble. Jake could not remember when MaryEllen has last bought him or anyone a beer, probably because she never had. Boy, oh boy, what did she want because with that crocked smile and the sloshing brew, she sure wanted something from him, something big. “Well, hi there, Jake. It's so good to see you.” “Hello, Mayor Jenkins. What can I do for you?” “Why, Jake, I just thought I'd buy you a Sierra Nevada. That's what you drink, right? And we'd have ourselves a little conversation.” Lord have mercy....a conversation? What could this be about? Too bad he'd brought his checkbook with him so that he could pay Les. He didn't have that excuse, but then, truth be told, Jake was always generous when it came to the town's needs. He'd given a sizable sum to update the library last fall and then wrote another check for the same amount to insure that library hours wouldn't be cut. These gifts were anonymous. But, of course, MaryEllen knew everything about her town, anonymous or not. He looked at MaryEllen's beaming, wrinkled face. She must have been quite a beauty in her prime which to Jake's quick calculation was around the middle of the sixteenth century. She had been mayor of Clayton Springs for over twenty years. No one wanted – nor dared – to run against her in an an elections in all that time. She was nosy, indefatigable, bossy, competent and unfailingly kind. Citizens of Clayton Spring were very often annoyed with her but always loved her. Twenty two years ago, MaryEllen's son, daughter-in-law and twin granddaughters died in a fiery crash at the corner of Downey and Main....the Jenkin's car versus a gas truck at 10 AM one beautiful Saturday spring morning. No blame was assigned by the investigating officers, but a recommendation that a 4 way stop be put in at that intersection was submitted and filed. After grieving her enormous loss and waiting, and waiting for action be made on the recommendation, MaryEllen found new purpose. She started with a petition for the 4 way stop to be put in and gathered over three thousand signatures. It went nowhere. so she ran for and became mayor with her first official duty to sign the funding for stoplights at Downey and Main. Once that was accomplished, MaryEllen gathered up the entire town of Clayton Springs to be her family to care for and nurture, and that she had been doing for the last five elections cycles. Her small ranch south of town took little of her time. She lost most of her interest in it when Don and the girls died. She moved out of the main house, selling off most of her furniture and memories in a big estate sale, into the foreman quarters and gave the main house and the ranching responsibilities to her foreman Conner and his wife Sarah. It worked out well for all concerned especially since Sarah loved to cook and supplied MaryEllen with most of the meals she didn't eat at Checkerboard Cafe or McDonald's....she loved getting a senior coffee and a double cheeseburger on Wednesdays for just $2.49. She ignored the “senior” aspect to the coffee and just enjoyed getting a bargain meal. Jake tried to figure how much MaryEllen's “conversation” was going to cost him. The check from the oil company's lease on the east 12 acres of his property had just come in so he was pretty flush. How did she know? He sighed. MaryEllen knew everything. Just as he was mentally bracing himself to write the biggest check he had ever written, MaryEllen switched from her lopsided grin to her “motherly/grandmotherly, I'll help you do the right thing, trust me face.” “Now Jake, don't worry. I'm not gonna ask you for money” Mental note – never play poker with MaryEllen. Jake relaxed for a nano second and then really began to panic. Oh no, I do not want to be on the school board. I know Herman is retiring, but what do I know about Clayton Springs' schools? The Farm Bureau? I do my part there. Why doesn't she just want some money? “Jake, I have a proposition I want you to consider.