As she rides by

Garrison wore a silver lame T-shirt, with nothing under it but Ms. Garrison, also a silver lame miniskirt all of three inches long, also a pair of silver lame high-heeled sandals. Ms. Garrison was insanely stunning. She looked a lot like that beautiful actress Briget Neilson, only more so, if possible, with her skullcap of blond hair, her perfect features, and her well-lipsticked, sensual mouth. Evonne and Sara had hated her intensely on sight. Father Romero had rolled his eyes and, involuntarily, I think, crossed himself. Mel went all suave, Benny steamed up his glasses, Marv slouched down even lower in his chair, and Injun Joe’s eyeballs boggled out almost as far as eyeballs do in animated cartoons. Only I, veteran of a hundred similar crises, had remained impassive, impervious, which was lucky for me as my beloved was watching every flicker of my orbs.
    After the introductions were over, I suggested that the principals— with the temporary exception of Messrs. Chandler and Jameson— should then one by one state their objections to Mr. Gall’s proposed cinema, keeping their remarks under five minutes, please. One by one, they did so, along expected lines—Marv stressing law and order; Evonne corruption of youth; Sara, with an apt quote or two from the Bible, purity, righteousness, and the importance of traditional American values in an increasingly corrupt society; and so on. After Elroy had finished his spiel about declining architectural standards in inner cities and the dangers thereof, I added a few well-chosen remarks in my role as your ordinary, decent, concerned man in the street. I then asked Mr. Gall if, in light of what he had just heard, he would not reconsider his plans and perhaps erect his cinema elsewhere, saving everyone a lot of grief.
    “No,” he said. “I will not reconsider my plans and erect my cinema elsewhere in the light of what I’ve heard.”
    I sighed. “Then hear this,” I said. “Mr. Jameson?” Mel got up, opened his briefcase, and handed everyone in the room copies of four documents. We all pretended to look surprised, with the exception of Mr. Gall, whose expression didn’t change at all, and Ms. Garrison, who frowned as she began reading.
    “What you are holding, ladies and gentlemen,” Mel said in his best courtroom manner, “are as follows. One: a restraining order issued by California Civil Court number four, on such and such a date, preventing construction, destruction, transferral of property from, etc., etc., the site next door hereinafter referred to as ‘the property.’ Two: a notarized statement from patrolmen so-and-so and so-and-so attesting to the discovery of a certain relic on said property on such and such a date. Three: a notarized statement from Dr. John Chandler, one of America ’s leading experts on the subject, that said relic has been precisely dated by him and identified without question from markings engraved thereon, as being a religious symbol of the Yokuts, once prevalent in this exact area.” Here Mel gestured to Joe, who nodded once. Noticing that Evonne was busy reading one of the documents, I snuck a look at Ms. Garrison’s crossed limbs.
    “The fourth document,” Mel went on, “if one might call it that, is a short history of the major Californian tribes and their burial customs, which Dr. Chandler has kindly compiled and which you may well find as interesting as I did.”
    “Well, thank you, doctor,” I said. “That was thoughtful of you. Eh, Mr. Jameson, I have a question that might be relevant. This restraining order, as you call it, could it be overturned somehow, or reversed, in a court of law?”
    “Certainly it might,” Mel said. “Unfortunately, with the backlog of civil cases in the courts right now, the soonest such a hearing could be scheduled would be at least eighteen months, and more likely to be a lot longer than that.”
    “Very cute,” said Mr. Gall then, tucking his papers away in a back pocket. “Very, very cute.”
    “Are there any other questions?” I asked then, looking pointedly at Elroy.
    “Oh, yeah,” he said. “This relic thing, can we get a look at it?” I raised my eyebrows inquiringly in Taffy’s direction. “Certainly, certainly,” he said. “Now where did I put it? I intended to return it to its rightful owner, Joseph Half-Moon, here, in any case.” He finally found it in a box under his chair, took the thing out, and then passed it reverently over to Elroy. While it was making