by Marcus Emery

Created on: May 18, 2009

He could smell it in the air, starting two weeks ago. Sure, he had his own way of operating, not like the others. They had to clique-up to accomplish anything. " I fish alone, I hunt alone, I think things out, go ahead and get things done. Self-reliance is what made this country, isn't it? Committees! Ha! Much ado about hardly anything. Big talk, small results." He never volunteered for a committee, however commendable the goal might be. That is not to say he didn't care; sometimes he thought he cared more than anyone did. But he guessed he was a loner. No honors or titles and no regrets; for he had the self-satisfaction of completed chores, well done. The thing that bugged him, now, was that they seemed to be watching his every move, critically.

That nice young lady who had seemed pleased to be around him this past year was politely cool. Even her, who, after he had worked up the courage to ask her if she'd like to accompany him to Jackson Hole after work next Friday; said she would have to take a rain check. Red-faced, too, like she was not quite telling it like it was. If she was flustered, he was completely bamboozled. What burned his back was the sudden realization that he had more than a casual interest in her. She had more than looks; she had a good and decent way about her. The mother of his children? Not after this putdown! Why had she acted so offish? They must have been making malarkey about him, to her.

Bill and Sheila had her at their table when he walked into the cafe. She had her back to the wall, glanced up in a startled way when he walked in, then ducked her head and said something in a low voice to Sheila. Well, he could see that sharing supper with them right downtown meant more to her than hitting Jackson Hole with him. Two weeks of being left out of things, of being whispered about , sidestepped, sidewise glances; enough was enough. He wheeled around, fumbling for the door knob. He didn't drink, but he was about to cross the street and find out how. He could hear a rustle of comment, probably more of their criticism.

Something had his elbow. Her little hand. Her anxious face held a begging look. "Please come with me. There's a situation that needs your help in the back dining room. You remember it's MAM Day? " Oh yeah. That's when they give some hombre a shoutout that he's a fine fellow, hereabouts. Probably one of Bill and Sheila's running buddies. Hope he's not her choice, too.

Bill and Sheila had already gone into the back dining room. Her elbow tightened as she led him into the crowded room. Past the tables to the low platform. She tugged him onto it, reached up, relieving him of his hat, and announced, "On behalf of the Civic Committee, I am pleased and proud to present you with this year's Most Admired Man!" The laugh was on him, he guessed.

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