“That’s not a problem,” blurted A. J. “Whoever it is will be offered some prime spots in the new annex.  Who is it?”

Digger lowered his gaze as if talking to someone at his feet, “It’s David Murphy.”

An audible groan came from all corners of the boardroom.  Eyes rolled, heads wagged, and many shifted in their seats for no discernible reason. After a long pause, Harvey Minter said, “So who is going to talk to him?” He figured if he asked the question, he would put himself out of contention for the honor.

David Murphy had long been a burr in the hatband of the town council, but something of a town hero to many others. He was a tall and fit 50-something year-old guy with wavy salt and pepper hair, a nose a bit too large for his face, and bushy eyebrows that accentuated a furrow in his brow when he was serious.  But he had a smile that could melt butter.

Most famously, David had put Bynum on the map when he objected to the Nativity Scene in the lot next to city hall. “I just don’t think it should be there. It does not represent the beliefs of some of our townspeople.”

“Like who?” came the immediate response from three board members.

“Like me.” He was willing to take full responsibility, but then he added, “I also speak for several others who have approached me.” He did not name names.  Once he brought his objection, forcing the Board to table the item until its next meeting, local news, then state news, and even one national network picked up the story. Most in town loved the nativity scene. It was very life-like even though it was plastic and not quite to scale. But by the end of the skirmish, enough other folks in town got on board with David to force the council to vote to rescind the permit without any law suits being filed. Turns out that no permit had been issued. The display had been set up for so many years without question, no one knew a permit was required. The Nativity scene was packed away and later sold to the local Assembly of God Church.

But long before that, David Murphy had been a person of interest in Bynum.  David had lived in Bynum all his life, except for the few years he was away at college, but he was not your average resident. He was not a farmer, nor a rancher. He didn’t drink morning coffee in the hardware store. He was a physical therapist in the city nearby, and he had a yoga studio in the room he had added to the back of his modest, two-bedroom house. Several women in town as well as residents of several nearby communities attended the classes he offered two evenings each week and some had private yoga sessions with him.

On mild evenings when he wasn’t teaching a class, he sat in his rocking chair on the front porch that ran the length of his house, reading, looking up to wave and smile at folks driving by.

He was the one to step up whenever something of social value was called for.  Just the year before, he volunteered to head up the drive to beautify Main Street. He coordinated efforts to clean and repaint the antique street lamps, repair and repaint the benches that were bolted to the sidewalk outside the bank, the barbershop, and the city building, and to landscape and make a small park out of the space left vacant after the corner furniture store burned to the ground. He had gone to every store owner on Main Street to discuss what could be done to improve the appearance of each storefront, and he had done so with such an amiable manner that no one took offence at the implication that their particular store’s appearance could use some help.

Whenever some person in town could not afford an operation or faced having their electricity turned off, David was behind the scene heading up some kind of fund-raising effort, setting up accounts at the bank where funds could be sent, printing flyers at home, and talking to local merchants, all without any fanfare.

But the town council did not think so highly of him. David was the one who brought up potential conflict of interests when matters were discussed that appeared to financially benefit one of the board members or a nephew or brother-in-law. He always did so with a soft, concerned voice, and in a way that made the conflict obvious to everyone in the room, thereby making the council member look a bit foolish. He had a way of throwing a wrench into plans and ideas that seemed simple and obvious to the town board. But that’s because those plans were usually self-serving.

So when Digger told the Board it was David Murphy who owned the plots where the road was to go, no one saw a good outcome. Each assumed that poking the Board in the eye was more important to David Murphy than giving them what they wanted.