Report from the Committee on Town
Happiness
Alan Michael Parker
We have been thinking about the pond in Maxwin’s Park. The park is re-closed, the fencing stalwart—and so, thinking about the pond requires thinking. And fidelity to our memories, which have no minutes to be re-read. To our faith in one another we must be faithful.
A pond may well have an identifiable source, spring-fed underground. But an underground spring might just as easily not be there. We have voted, 6-1, to recognize such a possibility. Who among us would go check? We looked around, surveyed each other for some hope—until V. Gurozcki laughed, then quickly covered her mouth. Even nervous laughter wasn’t really needed, especially when no one had volunteered. We voted by silent acclamation to table the request that someone check the pond.
A pond is recreational and decorative, habitat and tourist site. A pond is visible and primarily unseen. From the air, what does a pond resemble? If only we could ask the balloonist, N. Femiz. He used to wear those perfectly round glasses. We voted to award the pond a 3, contingent upon our investigation of what we couldn’t see. Were we sharing? Nodding in agreement isn’t “sharing,” really, nor is it “being on the same page.” For this reason, we voted to re-vote, to vote by raising hands instead of secret ballot. The vote to re-vote was defeated, 5-2.
We adjourned to donuts, refreshed by tiny paper cups of cider. The cups felt oddly waxen, or wax-coated. “Waxy” paper cups. Any pond that receives a 3 is a good pond—one that some day might be re-accessed, maybe, we agreed to say. Once more, we gathered to throw open the oaken doors of the Committee room, as ever, like opening our hearts. That’s what we would say, a 3 is better than a 2.
