This book was a finalist for the 2024 Colorado Authors League award for Thriller.
Shelton recognized the new adversarial challenge yet began the dialog in the same way she had with Extravaganza.
“Mr. Devine, like my other colleagues, I thank you for taking the time to educate us about Great Outdoors America, its ongoing efforts, and how they relate to the proposed effort to convert Wyoming, my home, from a state into a lesser political entity.”
Devine offered an unsmiling nod and then mirrored his inquisitor in tenor. “Senator Shelton, like I said to your other esteemed colleagues, it is my pleasure to share the mission and passion of Great Outdoors America. However, I must correct your implication that my organization has an interest in the political stake of Wyoming. We do not. Our aim is to advance the preservation of our natural world whenever possible, wherever possible.”
“I see. And to that aim, you are proposing that Wyoming be relegated to a region where human activity is minimized?”
“If not eliminated completely.”
“If not eliminated completely,” the senator echoed.
“Yes, well, that would be the ideal, but realistically, there would be some human interaction with the area.”
“So you are advocating the removal of cities?”
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“To the extent possible, yes.”
“The elimination of farms and ranches?”
“Again, to the extent possible.”
“The cessation of any mining activity?”
“Absolutely.”
“Tourism?”
“That’s negotiable, but it needs to be strictly managed.”
“Pardon my ignorance, but what exactly is the benefit from all this hardship you want to place on the citizens of Wyoming?”
“You are so myopic in your thinking, Senator. The human race benefits. It benefits because we’ve taken steps to allow a small piece of our natural world to flourish. You’re fixated on the citizens of Wyoming, who are at most one-half million people. There are eight billion humans on our planet. Asking a small percentage to endure some inconvenience in exchange for cleaner air, water, and a more balanced ecosystem is the deal of the century. Rarely on this earth do we get an opportunity to return such a large expanse of land back to its natural state.”
“And the decision is a no-brainer if you aren’t one of the few forced to make the sacrifices. If you want to play a numbers game, Mr. Devine, tell me, would you be willing to sacrifice the life of one healthy child if it meant saving the lives of twenty senior citizens?”
“That’s ridiculous and completely irrelevant to this issue! No one’s advocating any killing. We’re only asking people to move, and mass migrations have taken place many times throughout history. Europeans migrated to America, and Americans living in the East trekked westward to California and Oregon.”
“Those were voluntary decisions on the parts of the migrants.”
“So what?”
“So maybe better examples are the Trail of Tears or the Bataan Death March. You know—involuntary expeditions.”
“WYONATION”
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Devine threw his body back into his seat and folded his arms. “That’s real rich of you to throw out the Trail of Tears: a white lady citing Native American suffering.”
“Can’t we learn from our mistakes? And by the way, what ever happened to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? Forcing people to leave their homes for political reasons doesn’t seem to meet those tenets.”
“Listen to yourself, Senator! Your ignorance is deafening. People have been rooted out of their homes due to politics since civilization began. Cuba, Vietnam, Hong Kong. Those are just some recent examples.”
“It’s funny, don’t you think, your ‘recent examples’ are all of the communist persuasion? Are you sympathetic to the communist cause, sir?”
A less disciplined man would have taken the bait and teed off on his assailant. Instead, Devine sidestepped it. He poured some water from a pitcher into his cup and drank. Then, with a wry smile, he answered.
“Like I mentioned earlier, our motivation for Wyoming’s reclamation is not political. We view it as a double win for humanity and the planet. First, we stop activities that are damaging the planet: fossil-fuel extraction, raising methane-producing cattle and sheep, and the senseless killing of endangered species. Second, we facilitate a return to nature before man’s intrusion. We allow wolves and grizzlies, predators indigenous to this region, to reclaim their territory. We permit bison herds to repopulate to their natural equilibrium. We rejoice in maintaining an area whose water and land are pristine.”
The Senator’s blank stare and open mouth revealed the crippling effect of her opponent’s blow. Devine’s cogent remarks left her grasping for any sort of meaningful comeback. His succinct argument swayed anyone sitting in the gallery who’d been previously undecided.
Trying to recover, Shelton asked, “Converting Wyoming to wilderness won’t solve the world’s problems. It will barely have any effect. There are far greater transgressions around the globe causing substantially more damage: overpopulation in Asia and Africa, the destruction of rain forests, the decimation of ocean fishing. Why aren’t you pursuing those with the same vigor?”
“We are pursuing those, but our influence is limited. Converting Wyoming is a tangible action we can achieve.”
With elbows on the table, the senator allowed her outstretched fingers to support her head as she looked down at her notes. Highlighted in orange, her eyes caught two phrases: Max the Moose and man’s best friend. She remembered an idea from a few days earlier.
“Mr. Devine, much of your pleading today has been for the protection and betterment of animals. Is that a fair statement?”
“Yes.”
“And you, personally, have a deep love for animals?”
“Of course.”
“Do you, by chance, own a dog?”
“Yes. Two. I have a black lab and a mutt who’s a rescue.”
“Lucky dog.”
Extravaganza piped up. “I own two dogs, too, Senator. They’re little shih tzus, and their names are Crunchy and Flakes. I named ‘em that ‘cause I was shooting a commercial for a breakfast cereal when I got ‘em.”
Extravaganza’s interruption surprised Shelton, but she adjusted and brought the cheerful singer into the conversation. “How interesting! And I bet you spoil those little rascals rotten.”
“You know I do,” the singer answered gaily.
“And you’d protect them come hell or high water.”
“They’re family. In fact, I like them more than a lot of people I know.” Extravaganza turned her body and looked back at the audience in the gallery. “Y’all know what I’m talking about.”
Roughly half the heads in the gallery bobbed in enthusiastic agreement. Even Devine participated in the affirmation. After the heated exchange between the CEO and the senator, the audience was anxious for some tension relief, and here it was.
Shelton watched this sudden turn of events. She fed into the room’s mood. “You know, if a person had to choose between saving a dog or Marcos Tuttle from drowning, I’m pretty sure I know which one would get picked.”
Upon hearing that scenario, the crowd in the room howled in laughter. Marcos Tuttle played quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys, the archenemy of Washington’s football team. The fog of stress that had been so dense only a few minutes earlier had dissipated. Senator Shelton allowed the residual jocularity to run its course. Then, she resumed.
“But I wonder, what if we replaced Marcos with a homeless person? What about a stranger? A child? A neighbor? Even if that neighbor lives in another state?” She paused and permitted the silence to work its effect. “I have a dog, too, and I love him to pieces. But he’s a dog! If I’m forced to choose between an animal and a human being, it’s no contest! Seems to me that on our march toward greater compassion for our brothers and sisters, we’ve taken a wrong turn. We need to think long and hard about getting back on track.”
She picked up her notecards and tapped them into alignment. Then, she turned her attention to the committee chairperson. “Senator Doolin, my time has expired. Thank you.”
Copyright © 2023 by Dallas Jones
Dallas Jones was born and raised in Casper, Wyoming, but has called Colorado his home for more than thirty years. “WYONATION” is his second novel. A graduate of the University of Wyoming and the Georgia Institute of Technology, Jones developed technical writing skills as a business systems analyst and consultant but didn’t catch the creative writing bug until age 40. His first novel, “Meet the Boys of Casper,” a nostalgic remembrance of growing up in the 1970s was published in 2017.
