giving
the state Jim Chambers had given Schneiderburg several
distinctions, one of them being the modern highway upon which Lacy
was now driving. On the outskirts of the downtown area Lacy noticed
a small shopping center built in the Spanish style with tiled roof
and a multi-arched colonnade. It was called Hacienda Square. From
its name she guessed the shops must all face a central courtyard
like a Mexican hacienda. She wondered if the center was air
conditioned.
Further down the highway Lacy came to the
old town square constructed of German-inspired masonry popular in
the late eighteen-hundreds. Fashioned like most Southern county
seats, the courthouse served as the square around which the old
town was built. Lacy noticed a surprising number of fine antique
shops, dress shops, along with a shoe shop, a drug store, a movie
house and a café with a scattering of hanging baskets and outdoor
tables—all of which were filled.
Since it was nearly noon, she decided to
sample the luncheon fare at the cafe. Though the café's exterior
looked trendy, the narrow interior was pure vintage. Everything
here, from the square chrome-legged tables to the asphalt tile and
neon lights overhead, was utilitarian.
Not wanting to take up a whole table during
this obviously busy lunch period, she took the only available seat
at the end of the counter.
A young Hispanic girl sporting a polo shirt
with the café's logo cleared away the dirty dishes in front of Lacy
and wiped off the counter as a well groomed blonde with long, fake
fingernails and a proprietary air tended the cash register next to
Lacy.
In a deep Southern drawl, she explained they
were shorthanded because a waitress had quit the day before. Lacy
finally gave her order to a young waitress then asked if she could
direct her to the state's day care center.
A blank look crossed the waitress's face.
"Never heard of it," she said.
A middle-aged man sitting next to Lacy spoke
up. "If it's the building you're lookin' for, you'll find it about
three miles down Sheridan Highway, but you won't find nothin'
there. The program ain't actually started yet. Don't reckon it ever
will. Folks around here don't go for spending their tax money on
them Mexicans--"
"Excuse me," Lacy interrupted, "you must be
mistaken. I know a center has been initiated in this town. I'm here
from the capital, and money most certainly was earmarked for that
purpose."
"Well, there's been talk of getting one, and
that old church was bought--"
"Excuse me, honey, but I heard you say you
were from the capital," the well-groomed blonde said to Lacy. "Do
you know our Jim Chambers?"
"I work for him," Lacy said with pride.
"Well, isn't that something, Cecil?"
"Been going to the first Baptist Church with
Jim since he was knee high to a grasshopper," Cecil said.
"Finest boy that ever
lived. That's what I always tell them reporters that come here to
write up about Jim. I was quoted in Texas
Monthly magazine, you know," the blonde
said proudly. "Tell me, honey, does Jim know you're
here?"
"No. I'm doing research on day care centers.
The lieutenant governor is giving a speech on child care programs
tomorrow, and I write his speeches."
"Ain't that nice," the woman said. The
almost-too-friendly smile left her face and she spoke somberly.
"Honey, I'm sorry your trip was for nothing, but we don't have that
nursery school yet. Expect it real soon, though. You should have
checked with Jim before you came. He'd have told you about it." She
turned her attention to a customer approaching the cash
register.
Lacy didn't like the food. Maybe it wasn't
the food. Maybe it was the sick feeling she had for having wasted
her day and making fool of herself. Why hadn't she checked with
someone before she came?
She had, though, checked the last
appropriations bill. Two-and-a-half million dollars for purchase of
a suitable structure, furnishings and teaching supplies. Her
knowledge of state appropriations convinced her the money had to