Those Little Town Blues
by Jenean McBrearty
To qualify for a designated small town license, the population of every S. T. Zone had to number twenty thousand in every end-of-year census. “I heard tell that government rules were enforced so strictly that Evansville lost its right to exist because it only had nineteen thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine people and a pregnant woman not due till the following March,” Marshall told the obviously pregnant young couple seated in the booth at Betty’s Bar-B-Cue. He was seated on a counter stool, and overheard them talking about their visit to Lawrenceburg that had a close zoning call last year. That town had persuaded three of its pregnant residents to induce early so their babies could be counted. “When’re you due, Missus?”
The blonde, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-three, gave him a Madonna-like smile. “Next month.”
“Can I ask what the bid was? I heard one city recruiter say Lawrenceburg was offering up to ten thousand dollars plus moving expenses.”
The young man hesitated, then said, “They’re offering us a good price for our relocation. We own a house in Chicago.”
“Oh yeah. Home owners make out like bandits.,” Marshall said. “No offense. It’s just that small town budgets are already strapped. Taylorsville created a relocation fund. And Williamsburg included it’s recruiting outlays in its general fund, right up there with police and fire. Did away with their library—most folks have internet—and privatized the parks.”
“Damn EPA!” they heard from the end booth near the pin-ball machine. They looked around nervously. Three people were okay, but if an EPA Agent thought there were four people meeting as a group without a permit, they could all face a $500.00 fine.
“Show yourself, Stranger,” Marshall said, just in case the waitress got any idea about turning them in.
A tall man in a black suit and cowboy boots stood up and sauntered to the register,
check and cash in hand. “The government identifies all eighteen year old kids and drafts them into Public Service Training Corps. How the hell is a small town supposed
to maintain their population with an attrition policy like that? They can’t, and that’s the government’s plan. Call it Constructive Consolidation. But it ought to be called Designed Destruction. Get people off the land and into the planned communities of the big cities. Isn’t that the way the argument goes?”