Black Diamond

she said, smiling. “Very militant, I was. I began with straight Marxism and then drifted off to the Trotskyists. I almost became a Maoist, but then the feminist movement got me, then the mountain climbing. The mountains cured me of politics. And there was also a very cute mountain climber who rescued me from the feminists just in time to settle down to study for my medical finals.”
    “Well, you know the old saying: If you’re not on the left when you’re twenty, you have no heart.”
    “And if you’re still there when you’re thirty, you have nohead. My dad used to say it to me, and he’d been a Communist.” She paused. “I get the impression this is Pamela’s first flirtation with politics,” Fabiola said. “It can be a dangerous experience, when you come to it late.”
    She looked meaningfully across the hall to the stage, where Pons was bending down attentively to talk to Pamela. Bruno noticed that Pons’s Chinese chef was standing watchfully at the side of the stage, getting his first taste of French democracy. He reminded himself that he really needed to check on getting the man’s nieces into school, but was distracted when a very pretty young blond girl whirled into his arms and gave him a strong hug. A large paternal presence loomed behind her, his plump face in a wide grin and his hand out to be shaken.
    “Stéphane, Dominique,” Bruno said, returning the girl’s hug with his left arm while shaking his friend’s hand with his right. “You’re supposed to be at university in Grenoble. Don’t tell me your dad approves of your playing truant.” Stéphane laughed, proud of his daughter and beaming in delight at her unexpected arrival.
    “I came back specially for this,” Dominique said. “Cheap travel for students. But I couldn’t miss it, the chance of finally getting a Green mayor for St. Denis. And my politics professor was all in favor.”
    “I’m not sure Pons will be a Green mayor so much as the head of a coalition,” Bruno said. “That means compromises.”
    “We’ll see,” Dominique said. “I’m glad you asked your question. I hadn’t thought about the money.”
    “Money and how to spend it are what politics is all about,” said Bruno.
    A howl came from the loudspeakers, and Alphonse had the microphone again.
    “We have the results of your votes,” he announced. “And I’m pleased to say that majorities of all parties have voted for the common program. The Greens voted for it by forty-six to twelve. And the Socialists voted seventy-six to forty-six in favor. So we have it. And we have even bigger majorities for Guillaume Pons, whom we all know as Bill, to be our joint candidate for mayor. I now hand the microphone to him.”
    Pons began by thanking them all for coming this evening and promising to organize other evening meetings like this one, so that the town’s twelve elected councillors would be accountable to the voters and party members. Then he explained that the list of candidates had some deliberate gaps, to save some places for useful and worthy citizens who are not party members to sit on the council.
    “For example, I’d like to be sure we elect one of the residents of the retirement home here, so we never forget our senior citizens and their interests,” Pons said. “And I think we need a good local businessman as well, and perhaps a student. Even if they’re too young to stand for election to the town council, we can have a representative at the table because it’s their future we are talking about.”
    Pons waved at the young students from the local college who had counted the votes, and they gave him a cheer. Then he made a show of shading his eyes and looking around the hall, peering from one side to another. Then he muttered an exaggerated “Aah,” gave another wave and spoke again.
    “And seeing our friend Pamela here in the audience tonight, I think it would be an interesting idea to have one European citizen who is not French on our council to represent all those British and Dutch and other nationalities who have homes here and who bring money to our tourist trade. Maybe we could also find a place for our chief of police, whoreminded us all tonight of the importance of keeping track of our town budget. What I’m saying, my friends, is that politics is too important these days to be left to the politicians. We need to include everybody if we are to fulfill the promise of this evening of a new day of democracy for St. Denis. Good