*****
“The court is ours,” Bug exclaimed as he and Benny entered the aging building. They loved being the first to arrive, and finding the gym still dark. Cliff had just arrived as well and was in his office.
As they walked into the gymnasium, Benny and Bug heard a crash when Cliff knocked over some folding chairs while he was turning on the lights. The hum of the electricity excited them as the power began to make the mammoth bulbs glow orange. Circles of light slowly illuminated the court. For a moment, Benny and Bug stood in awe as the hardwoods came to life before their eyes.
There were many unwritten rules at the community center. Two of them were the most important. Rule number one: whoever gets to the court first has dibs.
“Tonight we keep it all night,” Benny said. “We just can’t lose. You know the rule, whoever wins, stays on the court. We stay until they beat us.” That was rule number two.
“Okay, shut it down, turn off the lights!” A deep voice exclaimed. The sound of the light switches echoed from the maintenance room. Snap! and a light would go off. Snap! snap! snap! and darkness overtook them.
“Hey, what are you doing?” yelled Bug.
“Turn the lights back on! We wanna play!” Benny said.
About that time, Cliff sprinted out of his office in the dark. “Who turned off the lights? You boys know you’re not allowed...”
Suddenly he collided with a mountain of a man, almost as wide as he was tall. He seemed unfazed by the collision. Cliff looked as if he had just stepped off of a wild ride at the carnival, then he fell flat on his back, his head hitting the floor with a loud thump. It sounded like a melon hitting the ground! Cliff’s eyes closed, and he didn’t move a muscle.
“Okay kids, ya gotta go, we’re shutting you down. This place is closed,” said the large man.
A smaller man in a uniform, the one who had turned off the gymnasium lights, stood overcame to where Cliff and told the bigger man, “Mayor Macalister, I’ll bring a truck and two men tomorrow to move all of this stuff out of here.”
Mayor Marcellus Macalister had been mayor of Apple Grove for almost twenty-seven years. Before him, his father was mayor, before him, his father had been, and before that, his father had been. As far as anyone knew, there had always been a mayor named Macalister in Apple Grove.
The light from the windows cast long shadows across the floor. Benny and Bug rushed to where Cliff lay, wanting to make sure he was still alive. “Cliff, Cliff, say something, anything,” Bug cried. “Get up and tell them they can’t close us down. Come on Cliff, you can do it.”
Cliff’s eyes opened. He looked around, as if lost. His body tensed, stiff as a surfboard. He began to speak, but his lips barely moved. “Wha…ha…ha…pun? Oh, oh my head.” Cliff lifted his head and sat up. “What happened? Sir, are you Santa Claus? I’m sorry it’s so dark; I must have forgotten to turn on the lights. Wait here, I’ll flip the switches. Oh, hello, boys, do I know you? Are you guys here to see Santa?...Oh, my head hurts.” Cliff began to speak slower and held the sides of his head with his hands. “Is tomorrow Christmas?”
The boys looked at each other in disbelief, their eyes wide with surprise.
Once more Cliff’s eyes closed as he fell backwards. His head hit the floor again. He looked as if he were sleeping, or worse.
“Like I said, boys, we’re closing this place down. There is no money for a community center here in Apple Grove now that Exit 23 is closing, and no, I am not Santa Claus,” the mayor said with a nasty smirk on his face.
“What did you say?” Cliff sprang to a sitting position. His eyes were glazed but fixed on the mayor’s shadowy figure. “Tell me, what did you say?” Cliff pulled himself to his knees.
“I said, this place is closed and starting tomorrow the exit from the main highway is closed,” answered Mayor Macalister. “Lester Babbish from the State Highway Department called today. He is closing Exit 23, and that includes the tollbooth.”
The boys shuddered.
“Apple Grove gets money from the tolls collected from the people who come to town and take Exit 23. Part of the money collected is for the community center. With the exit closed there is no more money, and that is that!” The mayor dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
“W…wh...Wha…what about the kids, Mr. Mayor?” Cliff stammered. “Don’t you care about what the kids will do?”
“Yeah, Mayor Macalister, what about us kids?” Benny asked.
“Yeah, what about us, what are we supposed to do now?” Bug chimed in, almost in tears.
“I’m sure you kids will find something to keep yourselves occupied and out of trouble. That’s not my concern though, talk to your parents,” the mayor answered smugly. “Now go, get out of here. Go home where you belong. Don’t make me call the sheriff.” Mayor Macalister brushed them away as though they were crumbs on his table.
Cliff scrambled to his feet. “You can’t do this, Mr. Mayor, the kids need a place to play. And what about me? I need a place to work.”
“There’s nothing I can do for you, young man. I have made my decision. Have you thought about asking Pops for a job at the market?” The mayor chuckled, with obvious pleasure from what he had told Cliff.
“You can’t do this, Mayor. You can’t,” Cliff said.
The mayor shot back, “I can and I did.”
“Come on, boys, we have to go,” Cliff motioned to the door. “You can turn the lights out, but we’re not going to take this lying down.”
4
MEET THE GANG
Lester Babbish’s office was the largest in the State Highway Department building. He had started out as a toll taker when he was twenty years old. Thirty years later he had worked his way up to General Director. He was tall and skinny as a fence rail. He had thin arms that seemed to hang to the floor. If not for the fact that most of the time he kept them folded in front of his chest like a praying mantis, his knuckles might rub on the floor. He was dark-complected, and had a scattering of freckles across his face.
Fancy, carved wood adorned the walls of Lester’s office, the kind you would see in those old black and white movies about lawyers and politicians. Even the ceiling sported exotic wood. Hidden in the ceiling, tiny spotlights shone down like a halo. They illuminated his desk and left the men sitting in front of his desk in near darkness.
“Am I correct, you closed Exit 23?” the voice from behind the desk asked.
“Yes, we closed the exit about an hour ago,” answered one of the men. “Now everyone will have to go two miles to Exit 24 if they want to get to Apple Grove.”
A look of satisfaction covered the face of the person behind the desk. “Good job. The number of cars getting off at Exit 24 should double now.”
One of the men had a worried look on his face and said, “That Cliff Beetle guy wasn’t happy when he heard the news. He was our daytime toll taker at Exit 23, and he said he wasn’t going to take it lying down.”
“Beetle will take it, like it or not. If he doesn’t take it lying down, then he can take it standing up. He’ll have to take it standing up because we took his chair! Ha, ha, ha, ha. Now go and be sure that no one knows I’m the one behind the closing of that exit. If this plan works, like I know it can, gentlemen, the next time we meet we will all be immensely wealthy.”
The two men who sat in darkness rose from their seats and left the office. Laughter, evil laughter, could be heard coming from the darkened office. “Boohuhahaha!”