Eden was small town where everyone knew everyone else, pretty much, so was not surprising that the new arrivals were noticed. People wondered what was going on and there was some talk in the pub and in the street, but mostly, the locals just got on with their lives.
Clearly, big changes were occurring in Eden. The whole town knew that Eden Valley had been sold and after some initial anxiety about job security, life went on as normal. There were rumours about who the new owners where. There was common knowledge that an entity no one had ever heard of, the Eden Foundation was the purchaser, but no one had any idea who were the people behind it. And frankly, most of them did not care. The jobs were secure; they told and in fact, there were plans for expansion and Eden Valley would soon be hiring which was seen as positive move in the town.
Most people knew that Old Sam Jennings had sold, but no one knew to whom. Robert had put a confidentiality clause into the contract, and Sam was not going to risk all that money by breaking it.
Some people knew that the other, smaller businesses had also been sold, but as the same people as before kept running them, nothing had really changed. Yes, things were changing in Eden and for the better people thought. There was a general air of optimism around the place.
And then the ads starting appearing. First in the Eden Star and soon afterwards on TV. They were called community service announcements. The TV ads featured shots of the town, beautifully filmed, so much so, that people had trouble as recognizing it as Eden. The voiceover referred to the thriving town of Eden, which they were told had a bright future, with a lot of exciting things ahead. At the end, the voiceover informed that this community service announcement was sponsored by the Eden Foundation, at the same time as the words appeared on the screen. The newspaper ran similar ads, half page photographs of a scene from the town, under which were the words, âThe Eden Foundation: Moving Forward.'
People may have thought the ads were a little corny, but they enhanced the optimism that they were already feeling and genuinely made people feel good about themselves and their town.
Martin and Arthur would look at each other and nod approvingly when the ads came on TV, which happened daily, several times a day, in fact. Every edition of the Eden Star contained a half page photograph with the Eden Foundation caption below it. Every day was a different photograph, all equally inviting.
At the same time, the telephone surveys began. Residents would be phoned in the early evening requesting they take part in a five minute survey about Eden. They were asked to agree or disagree on a scale of 1 to 10 on various statements about the town, and at the end they were asked to provide a one sentence suggestion on how the town could be improved. Most were happy to participate. A few were not and said so, and some just hung up the phone assuming it was call centre in India trying to sell them cheaper electricity.
The TV and print ads, the telephone survey all contributed to a certain buzz that could be felt around the town. It further enforced the belief that things were happening in Eden. The town was coming to life, moving forward.
After two weeks of this, a notice appeared on page three of the Eden Star, full page. It was headed in bold type, âPublic Notice.' Under the heading was an invitation for the residents of Eden to participate in a survey. The survey would be face-to-face, take no more than half an hour. It was entirely voluntarily. Its aim, the notice said, was to gauge the mood of the people of Eden. To determine how content they were with their life and current circumstances and to attempt to measure the population's degree of happiness or otherwise. All responses would be confidential and anonymous. No details beyond age and gender of the respondent would be recorded. And to compensate the participants for their time and trouble, there would be $1000 cash payable immediately at the conclusion of the half hour survey. And at the bottom of the page, in bold letters, similar to the heading, were the words, âThis survey is undertaken under the auspices of the Eden Foundation and financed by the foundation.'
Not everyone read the Eden Star. Those who did, soon informed those who didn't and by lunchtime of the same day there was hardly a soul in Eden who was unaware of the survey. The notice contained an address, a shop front in High Street, where those willing to participate could lodge their interest. By 2pm that afternoon, the queue snaked around the block. By 6pm the queue was no shorter, and it wasn't until 9pm that the doors were able to be closed. By then, ninety percent of those eligible, one had to sixteen years or older, had registered. Each registrant was required to give their initials only, not a full name, date of birth, and a contact telephone number. In return, they received a card with a number on it and also a telephone number should they wish to make contact themselves.
The shop had been leased by Robert. It had in the past been a men's wear store and some of the shop fittings remained. It was a very large store with even a larger stock area behind. The shop had been freshly painted and carpeted. New L.E.D lights had been fitted and the store and the rear storeroom had been partitioned in to a total of fifteen offices, each equipped with a desk, office chair and two visitor chairs. The partitions were sound proofed, as were the doors that were fitted to each office.
Two days after the registration, the offices were populated by the 15 psychologists who would run the survey. There were three secretaries in another office at the front to coordinate and direct people, and in each office, eager professionals, all newly qualified, all keen to earn some money before they settle in a more permanent job. They were all armed with iPads. Not a pencil or piece of paper in sight. Each were contracted for four weeks and each offered $5000, tax free. It would be a long time into their careers before they would be earning money at that rate again.
There were one thousand three hundred and fifty seven people who had registered and were eligible to be surveyed. At half an hour per survey and allowing for a few minutes for change over, the fifteen psychologists working an eight hour day, with half an hour for lunch could survey two hundred people. Allowing for delays and the odd glitch, it would take no more than two weeks to complete the survey, leaving another two weeks for the results to be collated.
Over the next week, appointments were made by the three secretaries, and then all was ready.
It ran like clockwork. Each half hour, fifteen people would arrive, one of the secretaries would allocate each a room and the psychologist would administer the survey, recording the responses on their iPads.
An Armguard van had come up from Melbourne with the money and with two armed guards. At the end of the half hour survey, each participant was handed an envelope containing ten $100 notes. The applicant would initial where marked, confirmed the receipt of the money and would be on their way.
The older ones headed straight to the Bendigo Bank branch, where queues quickly formed in front of the two tellers who had been prepared by the manager for the onslaught. The younger participants went nowhere near the bank, but took their money home and were already planning how to spend it. Don's Café and Bakery was packed for lunch that day, and that night, The Red Lion did a roaring trade.
These scenes were repeated daily for the next two weeks, at the end of which everyone in the office was exhausted. All fifteen psychologists were give three days off before returning to collate the results and then email them to a central database, where the results were stored securely. By the end of the four weeks, all fifteen were mentally spent, but happy, especially after receiving the $5000 cheques that the senior of the three secretaries handed them. The secretary, her name was Eva Grey, paid the other two the sum that had been agreed on, and stayed on another five days to tie up all the loose ends. She locked the store cum office, dropped the keys off at the Victorian house and headed back to Melbourne.
Robert telephoned Martin to let him know that the survey had been completed and the results were safely stored away. The intention was not to look at the results until the project was complete. Martin thanked Robert and congratulated him on a job well done.
The town of Eden returned to normal after those few hectic weeks. The only deviation from the norm was extra spending that took place in the town as the younger folks ate, drank and purchased goods until their newly earned money had run out. Then everything returned completely to normal.
The TV and newspaper ads continued, although less frequently than before. The town's mood remained upbeat. Martin and Arthur continued their morning run, and waited for whatever was going to happen next. Robert kept them informed but only in generalities. They had left the details up to Robert and his team.
After another week of calm, a second full page notice appeared in the Eden Star. This time it was on the front page. Anticipating the increased demand, five hundred extra copies of the paper had been printed and every copy had been sold by 10am that day.
The notice read, âTown Meeting.'
It gave the date as two weeks hence and the venue as Eden Football Oval. It further stated that the Shire Council was convening a meeting
of all the residents of Eden. Its purpose was to discuss a proposal for the town of Eden that would affect all its residents. It did not elaborate on the nature of the proposal. The notice was signed by Mr. Alan Gibson, Mayor, and on the bottom of the page was printed, âSponsored by the Eden Foundation: Moving Forward.'
There was plenty of talk around the town that day. The Shire office was inundated in with phone calls, all taken by an answering machine, which confirmed the date, time and venue of the meeting, but gave no other details.
Visitors to the Shire office, and there were quite a few of those, were met by two harassed clerks who informed them that they had no further information about the meeting, at least none they could reveal.
After two days the phone calls and visits stopped. The Mayor and Shire Councillors had kept a low profile. In fact, they would not have been able to answer any questions, as they also had no knowledge of what the meeting was about. All they knew was that someone who purported to represent the Eden Foundation had contacted the mayor two weeks earlier to inform him that a town meeting was to be called, and that the meeting should be held under the auspices of the Shire Council. Mayor Gibson knew as much about the Eden Foundation as everyone else, which was essentially nothing. He did, however know that it would be imprudent to refuse a request.
The meeting was scheduled for 2pm on Sunday afternoon, two weeks away and until then, the town of Eden, again, continued to function as normal.
In the five days leading up to the meeting, huge trucks began to appear in Eden, all heading for the oval where there was a hive of activity. The trucks had been carrying components of what turned out to be the largest marquee anyone in the town had ever seen. The marquee sat in the middle of the football oval. Its roof was made of clear plastic to let the light in. The grass of the oval was covered by a layer of artificial grass, rows upon row of seats were installed. There was a stage at the front and large speakers scattered around inside of the marquee. On either side of the marquee were long trestle tables stretching the whole length of the interior. On the Friday, two days before the meeting was to be held, all was ready.
Adjoining the marquee was a small caravan, which housed two security guards whose job was to keep anyone from entering the marquee, and prevent theft and vandalism. On late Friday afternoon, Gill and Roger were seen driving around the marquee in a patrol car. They waved to the security guards who waved back. The venue was secure and ready.
It was 1pm, an hour before the meeting was due to start and almost all the seats were already taken. A few people were still filing in. There were ushers at the door helping people to their seats. Those with young children were encouraged to sit in the aisles in case they had to take the children out. The ushers also ensured that no seats were left vacant. It looked as if the whole town had turned out and every seat would be needed.