Time was running out for the town of Silver Crossing. There was no more money, and rumors were rampant that a celebrity was poised to buy the whole thing. The land was supposedly going to be used for a theme park.
All three residents attended the meeting at the combination corner store and gas station that was one of the four buildings, the others being two houses and a post office.
It was Jeremiah Ashford’s shop, and he was the first to speak. “We simply cannot allow this to happen,” he said, beard quivering with emotion. “The three of us, we were born here.”
Edna McCain, who was Jeremiah’s sister, looked to her husband Benjamin for his thoughts.
Benjamin hooked his fingers through the straps of his overalls and leaned back against a rough wooden post. “I suppose we need some cash, then,” he concluded, surprising no one. “Didn’t your old man have his savings squirreled away someplace?” he asked his wife and friend.
Edna and Jeremiah shared a loaded glance. Jeremiah shook his head imperceptivity.
“Nope,” Edna replied. “Everything passed to Cousin Frank.”
“Where’s Cousin Frank at?” said Benjamin.
Jeremiah answered. “Down in Millford. He’s not coming back here.”
“Not even to save Silver Crossing?” Benjamin wondered.
Edna coughed.
“Not even,” said Jeremiah.
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