Tempus Non Expectandum

(Short story about reacting to change that can’t be stopped. 1,170 words.)

“Look, I wish I could help you,” the clerk pleaded as he leaned forward on his desk at the planning department, “but it’s out of my hands.”

“Same old bureaucratic runaround,” Angela replied sullenly.

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Lucas asked.

“Nobody here can stop it.” The clerk leaned back in his chair resignedly. “The advisory committee advised, the city council decided, and now the planning department has to follow their instructions.”

“So this is the end of the line,” Angela said. “No more Mayfair Gardens.”

“It’s been in decline for a long time anyway,” the clerk pointed out.

“Because of benign neglect by the former owners,” Angela accused.

“That’s their fault, not ours.”

“But isn’t there a way to stop that kind of duplicity? We never find out until it’s too late.”

“They are the legal owners of the land and they weren’t breaking any laws or ordinances.”

“And they have the funds to lobby our democracy to get what they want.”

“They can only fund elections,” the clerk informed. “Staff positions in the local government are hired separately through a very long process.”

“And the elected city council and mayor give directions to the staff,” Angela reminded.

The clerk leaned forward again. “It really isn’t as nefarious as you think it is. A lot of paranoid people think some secret cabal is running things, but everyone knows that bureaucracies are notoriously slow moving.”

“But Fielding and Associates are getting their way.”

“They have been persistent,” the clerk acknowledged.

“Because they’re solely focused on their aim,” Lucas interjected. “They’re going to get that huge payoff for the land, all they ever wanted. System’s built that way.”

“Well however it happened, it’s happening,” the clerk said as he leaned back, “and nothing short of an act of god can stop it now.”

“If only we had deep pockets and could buy our own city council,” Angela said sarcastically.

The clerk looked down at some paperwork on his desk. “That’s just the way things are.”

“We know you’re not the one with the power,” Lucas began, “we were just hoping that there might be another option we weren’t ware of.”

“Sorry, but there isn’t,” the clerk said.

“Yeah, it’s out of your hands,” Angela said dejectedly.

“I’m afraid so,” the clerk agreed.

“We appreciate you seeing us,” Lucas finally said. “I’m sure you’ve done all you could.”

“Thank you,” the clerk said with relief then looked back down at his paperwork. “Wish I could’ve done more.”

“Me too,” Angela replied as she and Lucas got up. They headed to the door and left the office. They walked down an institutional looking corridor past other nondescript government offices then exited the county building. The late afternoon shone from the west as they walked out of the county building complex and into downtown.

“That was our last chance,” Angela lamented. “No way to save the Mayfair Gardens now.”

“It was a long shot from the beginning,” Lucas said as they walked by a construction site and into a cloud of heavy machinery noise and metallic hammering. Vehicles slowly bottle-necked into a single file as they drove around a lane closed off by orange cones and yellow tape. Other pedestrians were moving about the increasingly crowded urban center and jaywalking through the crawling traffic. “It’s all about the golden rule, you know how it is.”

“Right, those who have the gold make the rules.”

“And Fielding has all the gold.”

“They’re sure harder to stop now,” Angela said. “The ‘08 financial crisis was a real estate bonanza for them, it actually made them bigger.”

“The shock doctrine at work,” Lucas said.

“You think more people would’ve figured that out by now.”

“Waiting for the revolution?”

“Just wondering when we’re going to reach the tipping point,” Angela said as they walked along. “You know, there was a time when there would’ve been more than the just two of us talking to that bureaucrat.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

They stopped and looked up at the concrete skeleton on the construction site.

“Sure is going up fast,” Angela remarked.

“Too big for this little city,” Lucas said.

“Not so little anymore.” They continued walking along then noticed a makeshift encampment of dilapidated tents on the other side of the site. “What’s going to happen to them?”

“Pushed out to some other location as usual.”

They passed by a cafe.

“Can we stop in and get a coffee?” Angela asked. “I need to think about this.”

“All right.”

They entered the cafe, each ordered a coffee, and sat by a window. They looked out across the changing city.

“Remember when that was the old Silver Bullet?” Angela began as she nodded toward a parking garage down the street. “We spent a lot of Friday nights there meeting up with our friends after work.”

“I miss that old place,” Lucas reminisced. “Some people said it was a dive but it wasn’t that bad. Certainly had character. Too bad there weren’t enough people who wanted to save it. Just another casualty of economic growth.”

“Like so many other places.” Angela continued to stare out the window. “How long have we been doing this, and what have we really accomplished?”

“We’ve made some progress.”

“Not nearly enough.”

“There’s more to do.”

Angela looked downward. “I don’t know if I can go on with this anymore, too many disappointments. It’s wearing me out.”

“Understandable, but there’s more to do.”

Angela looked back at Lucas. “So how do you keep going?”

“Some things just need to be done.”

“Yeah, they need to be done all right, but you save a patch of land in one place and they just build somewhere else, you save one vital public service and they cut something else, you campaign like hell to get your candidate elected and they come back with their own well funded stooge and flood the media with expensive ads.” Angela shook her head. “Everything we’ve done has just been a drop in the bucket.” She looked out the window again. “Sometimes I think about refocusing, there are other more dire injustices out there, and it feels like the battle has been lost here.” She finally took a sip of her coffee. “Maybe I should just forget the whole thing and get on with my life, I’ve got a future to think about. Lately I have been thinking about pulling up stakes and going somewhere less crowded, less hectic.” She looked back at Lucas. “Don’t all the disappointments get you down?”

“Sure they do,” Lucas said, “but there will always be battles to be fought. Some are big, some are small, and some are more important than others, but they all need attention. And no matter how many times I get knocked down, at some point I have to get back up and keep on going because the fight never ends.” He looked across the changing urban landscape. “The way I see it, time doesn’t stop, so neither should we.”

©2024 Robert Kirkendall