Town Waiting on Committee to Decide If Committee Is Needed

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Act I – The Suggestion

The idea first appeared, as most enduring ideas in Sequatchie Crossing do, on a porch.

Boot Barnes was leaning back in a chair that had long ago stopped being structurally honest, staring across the road at nothing in particular, when Clovis Strickland came up the steps carrying a folder so thick it had begun to suggest its own authority.

“You ever notice,” Clovis said, not sitting yet, “how things don’t get done unless there’s a group involved?”

Boot didn’t move. “I’ve noticed things don’t get done even when there is.”

Clovis nodded, as if Boot had confirmed something he already intended to believe. He tapped the folder.

“I been working on a framework.”

“That so.”

“For determining when a committee is appropriate.”

Boot slowly turned his head. “You don’t know if you need one?”

“That’s the thing,” Clovis said, lowering himself into a chair. “We can’t just form one without first establishing whether forming one meets the criteria.”

Boot scratched his chin. “So… you’re waiting to decide if you ought to wait.”

Clovis opened the folder. “There are factors.”

Across the yard, a chicken sat in a nest that contained no eggs whatsoever. It shifted slightly, settled back in, and resumed waiting.

Boot watched it for a long moment.

“That chicken thinks something’s coming,” Boot said.

Clovis didn’t look. “That’s anticipation. Very important in governance.”

Boot nodded slowly. “Reckon it is.”

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Act II – Town Hall Receives the Idea

By midmorning, the matter had arrived at Town Hall.

Shelley Fawn Wexler had set out chairs in a configuration that implied progress without committing to any direction. Tiffany Annette Roark stood near the front with a notepad, ready to document anything that resembled a decision.

Clovis stood at the front, holding his folder like a preacher holds a hymnal.

“We are here,” he began, “to determine whether forming a committee is appropriate for addressing the matter of determining whether a committee is needed.”

Mabel Dean Ashcroft raised her hand immediately, not waiting to be recognized.

“You either need one or you don’t,” she said.

Clovis smiled patiently. “That’s precisely the kind of binary thinking we’re trying to avoid.”

Sheriff Peeler leaned against the back wall, arms crossed. Daisy the hound lay at his feet, chin resting on her paws.

“What’s the matter needing a committee?” Sheriff Peeler asked.

Clovis paused. “That has yet to be formally identified.”

Boot, sitting near the side, leaned forward. “So what are we waiting on?”

Clovis brightened. “A determination of readiness.”

Tiffany scribbled: Town awaiting readiness determination.

Pastor Arnold Peeler stood.

“I believe this is a thoughtful and deliberate approach,” he said. “The Lord himself often waited before acting.”

Mabel turned to him. “He didn’t hold a meeting to decide if He needed a meeting.”

Pastor Peeler smiled gently. “We are not the Lord, Mabel.”

“Clearly,” she said.

Across the room, RT Mullins whispered to Sonny Morales, “I don’t know what we’re deciding, but I feel like we’re doing it right.”

Sonny nodded. “Feels official.”

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Act III – The Diner Discussion

At the diner, the conversation expanded.

Maggie Sue Dillard poured coffee with the steady hand of someone who had seen this kind of thing before.

“So y’all don’t know if you need a committee,” she said.

“That’s correct,” Clovis replied.

“And you’re waiting to decide that.”

“Yes.”

“And to decide that, you’re not using a committee.”

Clovis hesitated. “Not yet.”

Maggie Sue set down the pot. “Seems like you’re already making decisions.”

Clovis frowned. “Preliminary considerations are not decisions.”

Boot stirred his coffee. “Feels like one.”

At the counter, Chester Ray Blevins tapped a pencil against a napkin.

“I could print forms,” he offered. “Pre-committee evaluation forms.”

Clovis lit up. “That would lend structure.”

Mabel sighed. “You’re giving structure to something that ain’t started.”

Evelyn Grace Tipton spoke softly from her booth. “Sometimes structure comforts people.”

Mabel looked at her. “Sometimes it just keeps them busy.”

Daisy wandered in, sniffed around, and sat beneath Boot’s stool.

Coach Freddie Stubblefield leaned back in his chair. “If this was a game, we’d still be in the locker room arguing about whether to walk onto the field.”

RT nodded. “And somebody’d be timing it.”

“Already am,” Tiffany said from the corner, without looking up.

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Act IV – The Church Perspective

Sunday came, and with it, interpretation.

Pastor Peeler stood at the pulpit.

“Today,” he said, “we consider patience.”

The congregation listened, some with interest, others with familiarity.

“There is wisdom,” he continued, “in waiting before acting.”

Mabel crossed her arms.

“But there is also a moment,” he said, “when waiting becomes the action itself.”

Sister Lila Mae “Hallelujah” Pruitt stood suddenly.

“AMEN,” she declared. “You can wait so long you forget what you was waiting for!”

“Hallelujah,” Pastor Peeler said.

Clovis sat in the pew, taking notes.

Boot leaned over. “You writing down permission?”

Clovis whispered, “I’m documenting guidance.”

After the service, outside on the steps, the debate resumed.

Shelley Fawn adjusted her sunglasses. “We could create a temporary committee.”

Mabel stared at her. “To decide if you need a real one?”

Shelley nodded. “It would be provisional.”

“That’s just a committee wearing a hat,” Mabel said.

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Act V – The Sheriff’s Office Clarifies Nothing

At the sheriff’s office, Sheriff Peeler attempted to understand jurisdiction.

“So there’s no problem,” he said.

“Not yet,” Clovis admitted.

“But you’re preparing for one.”

“We’re preparing to determine if preparation is necessary.”

Officer Kenny Joe Teeter scratched his head.

“Do we need to monitor this?” he asked.

Sheriff Peeler thought about it.

“I don’t know if there’s anything to monitor.”

Daisy barked once, then lay back down.

Doug “Doughboy” Teeter leaned against the desk. “Feels like we’re already involved.”

“We’re observing,” Clovis said.

“That’s involvement,” Kenny Joe replied.

Sheriff Peeler sighed. “Let’s just keep an eye on it.”

Daisy lifted her head, then lowered it again.

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Act VI – Porch Philosophy Expands

Back on Boot’s porch, the conversation deepened.

The chicken remained on its empty nest.

Boot pointed at it. “Still waiting.”

Clovis nodded. “Consistent.”

“What’s it waiting for?”

Clovis considered. “Outcome.”

Boot leaned forward. “Or habit.”

Mabel joined them, carrying a jar of something that looked like it had opinions.

“I’ve decided something,” she said.

Clovis perked up. “Already?”

“You don’t need a committee to know if you need a committee.”

Clovis shook his head. “That’s too reductive.”

“It’s accurate,” she said.

Boot looked between them. “Seems like we’re doing a lot of deciding without deciding.”

Clovis tapped his folder. “We need consensus.”

Mabel laughed. “You don’t even have a question.”

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Act VII – The Meeting About Meetings

A second gathering was called at Town Hall.

Tiffany Annette Roark stood ready.

Shelley Fawn arranged chairs in a circle this time, which suggested equality without clarity.

Clovis addressed the group.

“We are here to review whether we are ready to determine if a committee is needed.”

Boot raised his hand.

“What are we waiting for?”

Clovis smiled. “Alignment.”

“With what?”

“The process.”

Mabel stood. “The process don’t exist yet.”

“That’s why we’re reviewing it,” Clovis said.

Pastor Peeler nodded. “There is wisdom in preparation.”

Mabel pointed at him. “You’re enabling this.”

Sister Lila Mae stood again. “We could just decide!”

The room went quiet.

Clovis blinked. “Without criteria?”

“Yes,” she said.

“That would be premature,” he replied.

Boot leaned back. “Feels like we’re late already.”

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Act VIII – The Decision That Isn’t

By now, the town had reached a strange kind of agreement.

Not agreement on what to do—but agreement that something needed to be decided about deciding.

Dr. Neil Cowgill adjusted his glasses.

“This is a form of deferred action,” he said.

“Is it healthy?” Maggie Sue asked.

“It’s stable,” he replied.

Sonny leaned over to RT. “Stable ain’t the same as moving.”

RT nodded. “Feels parked.”

Clovis stood.

“I propose,” he said, “that we draft a preliminary outline for evaluating the necessity of forming a committee.”

Tiffany wrote quickly.

Mabel closed her eyes.

Boot looked around the room.

“What are we waiting for?” he asked again.

No one answered.

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Act IX – The Chicken Remains

Days passed.

The chicken remained on its empty nest.

People began to reference it.

“It’s like that chicken,” Maggie Sue said.

“Waiting on something that ain’t coming,” Evelyn added.

Clovis, however, saw it differently.

“It represents commitment,” he said.

Mabel shook her head. “It represents confusion.”

Boot stood at the fence, watching it.

“What do you think it’s gonna do?” he asked.

Clovis adjusted his folder. “Eventually, it will reach a conclusion.”

Boot nodded. “Yeah.”

They stood there in silence.

Nothing hatched.

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Epilogue – The Process Continues

The town never did form the committee.

But they came close.

There were drafts.

There were outlines.

There were discussions about readiness, alignment, and procedural integrity.

People met.

They spoke.

They documented.

And they waited.

At the diner, at Town Hall, at the church, and on porches, the question remained suspended just above resolution.

Boot continued to ask, now and then, “What are we waiting for?”

Clovis continued to refine his criteria.

Mabel continued to say, “You either need one or you don’t.”

Pastor Peeler continued to praise the thoughtfulness.

And the chicken eventually stood up, stretched, and walked away from the empty nest without explanation.

No one marked the moment.

But several people noted it later.

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Disclaimer

The events depicted in this story are entirely fictional and belong to the imaginative world of Sequatchie Crossing. Any resemblance to real persons, living or otherwise, or to actual events or municipalities is purely coincidental. No chickens were consulted in the drafting of procedural criteria, though several were observed during the process.

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