Annabelle’s eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him. “I know. Sometimes I forget, but I know.”

A door banged open down the hall, and a harried man rushed forward, carrying a card toward the dean of the college. The two men put their heads together and conferred, their faces grim.

Gray held his breath and reached for Annabelle’s hand. “I think the results just came in,” he whispered with a nod toward the two men, who furtively studied the card.

Others had noticed, and voices began tapering off as the dean stepped up to the podium. It only took a few taps of the gavel for the crowd to settle down. Expectation hung in the air.

“My friends, it has just come across the wire that President McKinley has been reelected.”

The breath left Gray in a rush, and he curled over. The crowd booed and sent up howls of protest, but all Gray could do was concentrate on dragging in breaths of air as relief crashed through him.

Annabelle squatted beside him. “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice trembling with excitement.

“I’m all right,” he managed to gasp.

They were surrounded by groans of disappointment as the champion of the American heartland went down in defeat. The dean continued reading the telegram, reporting a landslide victory for President McKinley, even though most of the crowd had stopped listening. Someone tore down a swath of patriotic bunting behind the podium. Another threw a cup of coffee at an election poster of McKinley.

Roy Larkin stepped up to the podium, his face just as doleful as the rest of the crowd. “Settle down, folks,” he called out.

“Why should we?” someone bellowed. “That scoundrel stole the election!”

“No one stole anything,” Roy said. “This is a loss and it hits us hard, but we gave it our best shot.”

People shook their heads and commiserated. The dean of the college spoke a few words about how the electoral process worked, but no one cared, and Roy could sense that. The weathered farmer nudged the dean aside and took the podium again.

“In four years we’ll try again,” Roy said. “And in four minutes we’re all going to go outside and enjoy the best fireworks anywhere in the state. And tomorrow morning the college professors in this hall will teach their classes, and our young people will sit in their seats and learn. I’ll pack up my load of sunflower seeds for market. Doc Gilmore will treat his patients, Mr. Bellefonte will open the general store, and Mrs. Mays will accept a new shipment of books at the library. Life is going to go on. We’re going to be okay, folks.”

People still weren’t happy, but every word Roy spoke was true.