He was booed and shouted down, and Coy felt a surge of elation at the audience’s fiery and passionate response. He was surprised and glad, but more than anything, he was proud of his fellow townspeople for having the guts to defy the bank. Pickering had obviously not expected such a reaction either, and as he scanned the crowd, Coy could not help thinking that he was memorizing faces, mentally taking down names.

Begone, he thought, before somebody drops a house on you.

“I think…” The mayor shook his head as though awakening from a stupor. “I think this is an idea worth pursuing.” He banged his gavel for no apparent reason. “We will read over the information you have provided us, and vote on whether Montgomery will establish a municipal bank at our next session.”

There was a spontaneous standing ovation. The assembled townspeople stood as one, clapping, whooping and cheering. Coy was excited and far more encouraged than he had expected to be. He had not thought things would move so quickly. After hearing Trixie and the other business owners talk about the council’s refusal to cross First People’s, he’d assumed that gradual, incremental change would be the best they could hope for, and that only after many meetings and countless emotional arguments. This was better than anything he had imagined, and the crowd’s response told him that they had struck a nerve. Looking around, he saw that Pickering was no longer here. He had slunk away in the commotion, and it was that, more than anything, that gave him cause for hope. He was not unaware that there was probably danger ahead—he thought of Jimmy, crucified on the door of the old Bank of America; Ben, calling him in panic from some undisclosed location—but there was strength in numbers, and the numbers were definitely on their side.

The meeting adjourned, he walked outside with Trixie and several other downtown business owners, all of them patting each others’ backs and high-fiving, thrilled with the way the evening had gone and optimistic that change was in the air. The sheriff was there, too, and he went out of his way to shake Coy’s hand, telling him that the municipal bank idea was not only brilliant but necessary.

Others stayed behind as well, instead of going home, including the mayor, and as they talked, as people began to gradually open up and trust each other enough to say what they really thought, the stories started to come out.