Love Finds You in Camelot, Tennessee (13 page)

Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed the second ring of the phone. And the third. Amy yawned then answered, trying to sound as awake as possible as she spoke. “Yes, Eula Mae?”

“You have a call from a fellow who says he works for Knox County,” Eula Mae’s voice sounded strained. Quiet.

“Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t want him to hear us. You can never trust a government official.”

Amy stifled a laugh. “I work for the city, Eula Mae. Wouldn’t that make me a government official? And Steve too, for that matter. He’s the mayor, you know.”

“Still…”

“Put the call through.” When the phone rang, she answered with her most cheerful, “Hello?”

“Amy Hart?” The man’s voice had a stern tone, which put Amy on her guard right away.

“Y–yes?”

“Ms. Hart, this is Fred Platt, Knox County Commissioner. I understand you’re the driving force behind this outdoor theater idea?”

“Oh, well, yes.” She nodded as if he could see her.

“The folks in our zoning commission heard from your mayor a couple of days back with details about your plan. Seems like a nice enough guy, but this plan of yours is riddled with flaws. We’ve got a lot to discuss before you can move forward.”

“Riddled with flaws? How so?”

He spent the next ten minutes telling her. Something about zoning laws. Something about food permits. Something about county parks. Something about noise pollution.

Really? Noise pollution?

By about the ninth minute, Amy was ready to give up on the idea altogether. Still, she could hardly get a word in edgewise. The fellow simply wouldn’t stop talking long enough.

“So here’s what we’re going to have to do, Ms. Hart,” he said, his tone abrupt. “Someone from my department will be out to take a look at the area where you’re building. At that point, we’ll decide whether or not to allow you to continue.”

“But—”

“And once our decision is made, you can choose to appeal, if necessary.”

Sounds like you’re already saying no.

By the time they ended the call Amy felt completely defeated. If the people in the county office had their way, there would be no outdoor theater in Camelot. Not now, not ever. Then what? Once again, she would have let her friends and loved ones down.

“Just another dumb idea by Amy Lyn Hart,” she muttered.

“What’s another dumb idea by Amy Lyn Hart?”

Amy looked up as she heard the familiar voice. “Oh, hey, Eula Mae. We’ve just run into some problems with the county commissioner regarding the new building.”

“Told you those government officials were no good.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I will say it’s complicated.” Amy tried her best to explain what she’d learned, but none of it really made sense even after the fellow’s very thorough explanation. “Something about parking. And zoning laws. And noise pollution.”

“That noise pollution thing is a crock,” Eula Mae said. “The theater isn’t going to be built in a residential area, so why should it matter?”

“Right.” Amy nodded. “But he brought it up.”

“Here’s what you have to know, Amy.” Eula Mae’s eyes narrowed into slits and her voice became more exaggerated. “The sole purpose of government is checks and balances. Keeping everything in order. That’s it. If they ever go too far, well then, they’ve gone too far.” She trailed off on a tangent about her political views, sharing some rather outlandish thoughts.

“What is it with you and the government?” Amy said when Eula Mae finally paused for air. “I work for the government. Steve works for the government. We’re paid with tax dollars. Sometimes I think people forget that. We’re not bad people.” She paused and gave Eula Mae a pensive look. “And by the way, you get paid with tax money too, right?”

“Yeah.” Eula Mae groaned. “I’m such a hypocrite, working for the enemy. But the way I look at it, I’m like an internal spy. I’m here to keep things in order and flesh out any bad guys.”

“We’re
all
bad guys, Eula Mae, sinners in need of God’s mercy and grace.”

“Sorry, but I’m not gonna offer government officials mercy.” Eula Mae pursed her lips, the fine wrinkles around them becoming more pronounced. “Nope. Won’t do it.”

Amy chuckled then leaned back in her chair. “I suppose this news from the commissioner’s office shouldn’t be a big surprise. I should have seen it coming. Just goes to show you I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’ll bet Steve was,” Eula Mae said. “He’s on top of this, Amy. I guarantee you. So, take a deep breath. Trust him to run the show.”

“Run the show. That’s funny.” She chuckled. “But you’re right. I can trust him.” She felt her stresses lift as the words were spoken. With Steve running the town, they all felt safe, even in moments like this.

Suddenly Amy realized what the people of Camelot must have felt like with Arthur at the helm. Surely they felt safe. Secure. Protected.

She turned her gaze to the window as Eula Mae left the room. “Silly girl,” she whispered. “Camelot wasn’t even a real place. It’s just a story.”

Only now it didn’t feel like a story. Somewhere along the way—perhaps due to her father’s tall tales about the elusive kingdom—she’d actually started to believe that Arthur, Guinevere, and the others existed in this fairy-tale-like place known as Camelot.

Hmm. Not a bad idea, slipping off to a pretend place. Certainly a lot more appealing than hiding in the bathroom. And now with the county on her tail, she felt the urge to hide more than ever.

Steve and Charlie left Home Depot just before noon. After loading up the back of the truck, they climbed inside the cab and pointed the vehicle back in the direction of Camelot. Just a few yards out of the parking lot, Steve’s phone rang. He turned to Charlie with a smile. “It’s Amy.”

Her first words caught him off guard. “Steve, we have a problem.”

“Woody has smashed up the window of the Sack ’n Save again?”

“No.”

“Fiona got loose in City Hall?”

“No.”

“I give up. What is it?”

Amy shared an emotional tale of a call she’d received from the county commissioner regarding the building of the theater. Steve listened intently, his fists growing tighter as she talked. So, things were going to be even more complicated than he’d feared. Now what? He ended the call, whispering a hushed, “It’s gonna be okay. I promise,” before clicking off.

Charlie turned his gaze from the road for a second. “So what’s up with my girl? Everything okay?”

Steve paused a moment before responding. He needed to collect his thoughts. “Not really,” he finally said. “She just took a call from a guy who works for the county. Looks like they’re going to be hovering over us while we build this theater, so we’re definitely going to have to make sure everything is up to code. No slipups.”

“You need a plan, Steve—for all of this.”

“What sort of plan?”

“Are you asking for my advice?”

Steve paused and shrugged. “Sure. If you don’t mind giving it.”

“Okay, well, hear me out. I promise this will help. I’ve learned a lot from reading Arthur’s story. The way he got people to go along with him was to invite them into his inner circle.”

“The round table, you mean?”

“Yes. When you invite others into your circle, they learn to trust you. That’s what you’ve got to do with these county officials and anyone else who wants to oppose you. It might not be easy, but in the end you’ll have a win-win situation if you can make them feel included from the onset. That’s only done if you agree to work peaceably with them.”

“Wow. Great advice.” Steve rested his elbow against the truck door and thought about Charlie’s words. “I’ll invite them to come to one of our rehearsals so they can see the plan in action. Then we’ll work hand in hand to get the job done. By the time we’re ready for our first curtain call, the county commissioner will be sitting front and center in the audience as our special guest.” He hoped so, anyway.

“That a boy.” Charlie grinned. “Now you’re thinking. Invite their families and you’ll really win them over.”

“I can’t wait to tell Amy the plan. She’s going to think we’re brilliant.”

“What’s this ‘we’ business?” Charlie said. “You tell her this was your idea. She’ll see you as a hero.”

Steve chuckled. “No, she’ll know better. Besides, I don’t think I need to play the hero role in her life. She doesn’t need saving.”

“Only from some of her nutty ideas.” Charlie paused. “Remember that crazy lemonade-stand idea she came up with last summer—how she claimed it would raise money for the town? We’ve still got at least a dozen bags of sugar in our pantry left over from that flop.” He laughed. “But that’s my girl.”

“Yep. She’s loaded with ideas.” Steve’s thoughts shifted back to the county officials and the kinks they were throwing into the plan. Hopefully he really could cut them off at the pass and keep the peace. Otherwise, this whole plan was liable to go up in smoke.

Acting touches nerves you have absolutely no control over.

A
LAN
R
ICKMAN

On the day of the first rehearsal, Amy prepped herself in every conceivable way. After countless nights of studying—the acting craft, stage directions, vocal inflections, and so on—she finally felt ready. Well, as ready as one lone girl with no theater experience and a plan the size of the Smoky Mountains could feel.

She had the story down pat. No doubt about that. Watching the movie six times in a row would do that. She’d memorized every line, every nuance, every lyric. Not that the stage play matched the movie, but still, it wouldn’t hurt to know the story. Yes, she certainly felt better about things, and all the more as she climbed into her car and headed out for that first rehearsal.

“Oh, help!” She whispered the words more as a prayer than anything else as she drove the half-mile from City Hall to the Civic Center, where the first several practices would take place. Once the men got the new outdoor stage built, rehearsals would shift outdoors. But for now, the Civic Center’s linoleum floor would have to do.

When she arrived, she found Woody waiting for her in his car.
Hmm.
Perhaps waiting wasn’t the right word. He appeared to be sleeping in the driver’s seat. She tapped on the window and he startled to attention. Rolling down the window, he offered a weak, “Hi, Amy.”

“Hi, yourself.” Amy tried not to let her concern show, but he looked exhausted. She raised her voice to make sure he heard her. “Getting in a nap before rehearsal?”

“Started out as a prayer session,” he said. “Figured we were gonna need it. Then my eyes got heavy.”

“Happens to me all the time,” she admitted. “You must’ve been tired.”

“Yes. I’ve been staying up pretty late, looking over my blocking notes. Do we have a few minutes to talk things through before the others get here? I know we’re just doing the read-through today, but I want to go ahead and knock this out. I could use your help.”

“Sure, we can—”

She’d no sooner started to say “go inside and look at your notes” when Darrell’s truck pulled into the parking lot. As usual, the tires were thick with dried mud, a casualty of his job as a construction worker. Pete’s pest control van whipped in on his heels, the plastic cockroach on top dangling precariously to one side as he made a sharp turn into a nearby parking space. Strange. Had he been in some sort of accident? Pete was followed by Grady then a string of other vehicles.

“So much for meeting ahead of time.” Amy sighed.

“Aw, that’s okay.” Woody chuckled as he gestured to the odd display of vehicles. “We should take it as a good sign that they’re on time. They’re excited about the production, looks like.” He fussed with his hearing aid.

“Yeah.” She glanced at the vehicles again, wondering if Gwen would show up. “Excited or just plain curious to see how I fare as a director?”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Woody said, giving her a pat on the back. “Don’t let them see you worked up. They’re looking to you for their cues, and I don’t just mean the kind on the stage. If you’re nervous, they’ll be nervous. So, stiff upper lip.”

“Gotcha.” She saluted him and then smiled.

He turned to Pete, who approached with a sour expression on his face.