The security guard looks me up and down. Really regretting wearing this cropped wife-pleaser that states “Bong Hits for Jesus” right now.
“You can wait,” the guard says from behind her black sunglasses, like I’m some weird council groupie here to get my bra signed. I groan, then stomp back to signal the others. Sammy’s busy waving a long, foil-wrapped steak at Min, but he’s having no more luck than I am. I can’t see Julian anywhere, so either the seduction has failed or is still in progress.
“Council-friends, without further ado, the floor is open for motions to appoint the city council chair.” Tonuto straightens his lapels and grins as Vlad the Tiler promptly stands and states: “I move to appoint Council-friend Mike Tonuto to Chair.”
Fuck!
Mike places a hand on his chest, simpering. “I’m honored, Council-friend Vlad. Truly. Do I have a second?”
My eyes widen as Chester clears his throat. I don’t have time for Min, or intelligent plans, or anything other thanaction. I hurry over and tap the security guard’s shoulder. “That man has a free steak for you.” I point to Sammy.
While the guard’s head is turned, I race up the wobbly steps, boots thundering across the stage, thensnatchthe microphone from Tonuto’s shocked hand.
“Assassin!” Council-chair Chester shrieks, then throws himself flat on the stage.
Really? I know Chester’s paranoid, but he went straight toassassin?
“No, no, no.” I wave my hands in the universal sign ofthere’s been a mistake, please don’t shoot! Lil Dom’s already approaching the stage at a clip but slows when he sees it’s me. “I’m not here to assassinate anyone, but Iamhere to expose Tonuto for corruption before you appoint him Chair!”
“Guards!” Tonuto bellows.
“Wait one second, Tonuto! Or should I say,Michelangelouh…Shawn? Yes,Shawn Tonuto DiFiore!”
Tonuto’s face blanches as the crowd gasps. Itisa terrible name.
“Let Ms. Wyeth speak.” Council-friend Shar raises her hands to stop the guards bustling onto the stage. Reluctantly, they halt, and she smiles at me grimly. “Nomi, this better be good.”
“Sammy DiFiore’s been claiming his half brother, the so-called Mike Tonuto, uses his city council position to unfairly target Sammy’s Steaks for years. Well, I have proof!” I shake my phone in one hand, the welcome letter in the other. “Mike Tonuto used his real name,Michelangelo DiFiore, to start a secret LLC with Zoning Commissioner Jacqueline Lombardi and Tonuto’s long-time lackey Wilson Phillips. Their LLC registered their business tomydispensary’s address, which they planned to lease to deliver the ultimate slap in the face to Sammy—by opening a Jersey Mike’s directly across the street!”
The crowd burbles in shock. “Hell yeah!” one guy yells. “I love Jersey Mike’s!”
“But my dispensary beat Tonuto’s LLC to leasing the space, and since then, he’s done everything in his power to shut me down. Here’s the proof.” The Council-friends pass my phone and the letter down the line, shock painting their faces.
“Corporate bread, Mikey!” Sammy roars from below. “How could you?!”
Tonuto’s eyes ground into mine, his face dimpled with a deep, furious scowl. “This woman is a complete loser, a stoner, don’t listen to her—she’s high right now! Do you deny it?”
A thousand pairs of eyes swing toward me, collectively fixating on my tank top.
“No,” I assert, standing as tall as I can. I look hot in this tank top, and I know it. “I don’t deny it, Tonuto. Today is supposed to be my big day off, but because of you,I’mup hereworkingto take out thetrash!”
Unaccountably, the entire sanitation workers union goes up in cheers.
I… think I’m a labor hero? I saunter over to Tonuto, high on rowdy union applause and the piss of a unicorn.
“You can try to vilify cannabis and the people who use it all you want, but I know who I am, I know my worth, and I deserve every good thing in this life whether I fit intoyouridea of a good capitalist achiever or not.” I drive my finger into Tonuto’s chest, hard, and take a deep breath in, swallowing as I turn to face my town. Mom’s words come back to me in a rush, and I realize now that she’s right. If there ever was a time to show both sides of the cannabis debate—how it could help the townandchange people’s lives at an individual level—it’s now. It’s here, with me, owning my illness and all the vulnerability I’ve fought so hard to hide. If I don’t give this moment everything that I’ve got, if I hold back and Tonuto gets away with all his bullshit, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I’m tired of living in shame, and maybe it’s time that I expect more from myself and my town—acceptance and love for me, all of me, even the parts that, occasionally, shit fire. I take a deep breath.
“I didn’t always believe happiness is possible. I—have Crohn’s disease, and at times I get very, very sick.”
I glance down and find Eve and Graham, still panting from their run up Main Street. Eve forms a heart with her hands, her eyes big and proud.
“But when I was hurting and too ill to eat, cannabis gave me my life back. When I was down because of how isolated my illness made me feel, cannabis helped me find joy. Maybe you’re hurting, too. Maybe you’re sad. Maybe you have loved ones facing these problems, and you’re trying your very best to be there for them in the ways you know how. I can’t promise that my dispensary will solve all your problems, but I can promise that you’ll find people who care there. Who’ll help you the best way we know how. And isn’t that what we all really need? People who care? People who’ll help so we don’t have to face everything on our own?”
The emotions boom through my chest, each heartbeat sending a pulsating wave of love to my town. God, this is good pot.
“Right now, I needyourhelp, Sparrow Nook. To stop Mike Tonuto’s petty vendetta against his little brother, and to give my dispensary the chance to serve this town with love, and hope, and laughter. But I need to hear your voices—this city council needs to hear your voices, right now, demanding that these wrongs are righted.” I swallow, my throat tight. “What do you say? Will you help me?”
For a second, all is quiet. Somewhere a port-a-potty door slams shut. I feel almost woozy with adrenaline, with how exposed and vulnerable I feel, all the Nomis on display, asking for help.
