The Fight Against the New Highway

This is supposed to be sometime around the nineteen-fifties, but some things may not be historically accurate and I am still getting better at writing. I did my very best though, and hope you enjoy: The Fight Against the New Highway.

It was a dark, dreary day and a bitter-cold wind blew with swerling gusts. A fog rolled in from the East, settling over the subdued city of Miaret. There was an eerie silence over the city. Although the city didn’t usually get such harsh weather, the silence was normal—it had been for a long time.

Jasmine started apathetically out the window, fogging the glass. A chill ran down her spine, with the early morning cold. She liked the quietness of the city. Nothing much happened, but that was the way she liked it.

“Jasmine, get your face away from that widow,” Jasmin’s mother, Grace, said coming into the room. 

Jasmine whipped around, startled.

“I need you to run an errand for me,” Grace said.

“What is it?” Jasmine said in a soft voice.

“I only have a small amount of flour left and I need more. Could you please go get some for me?” Grace asked, handing her some money.

Saying nothing, Jasmine took the money and went and got on her grey overcoat. She also got some thick socks and boots, and a colorful shawl to keep her warm. 

As Jasmine went through the door, Grace called behind her, “Please be home before ten o’clock!”

When Jasmine took a step outside, she saw that it had begun to snow. The light snowflakes fluttered to the ground, making a thin white sheet on the ground. Jasmine shivered and pulled the shawl tighter around her. She realized that she had forgotten her gloves, and her fingers were beginning to numb as she made her way to town. 

When she arrived at the store, she heard shouting and commotion coming from downtown. The town wasn’t as quiet as Jasmine thought. Forgetting the flour for a moment, she headed toward the noise.

When the source of the noise was insight Jasmine wasn't sure what it was. It seemed to be a protest of some sort. Shouting people were densely gathered around a podium in front of City Hall. Some people seemed angry. People were crying out things like, “We don’t need civilization and new technology to come through our city!” and others saying, “Our city needs to advance! We can’t stay like this! Other towns will be getting more sophisticated!”

Someone approached the platform and leaned into the microphone, preparing to make a statement. 

“Our town is just fine the way it is. We don’t need advancement—not in this way. While some advancement is good, some can also be bad. A highway is too noisy! We do not need the roar of automobiles roaring through our city! Vote No on building a new highway!

Some of the crowd cheered.

“A new highway?!” thought Jasmine.

Another person stepped up to the podium to make a statement, “Our town is a fine one. We are thriving well… Yet there are other towns that are pulling ahead with advancement. We won’t let this happen! We must not be left in the dust!”

The crowd cheered, while others booed.

“We need to move on! We need to take action! We need to change! Vote Yes for building a new highway through our city!”

There was a map displayed, showing what section the highway would be running through.

“That’s right by our house!” Jasmine realized, panicked. She liked Miaret the way it was. She didn’t want it to change.

Jasmine had gotten lost in time, as the clock gonged ten o'clock and suddenly, Jasmine remembered about the flour and rushed to get it, then hurried home, almost running.

Jasmine burst through the door, her cheeks flushed.

“Jasmine, where have you been?!” exclaimed Grace. “I thought I asked you to be back by ten.”

“You did, but I got side tracked,” Jasmine answered, panting. “There is something going on at City Hall.”

“Whatever could distract you at City Hall?” Grace wondered.

“People are protesting about putting a new highway through Miaret, and they want to put it right by our house!” Jasmine exclaimed.

“Whatever for?” asked Grace, bewildered.

“I don’t know. Some people thought that we needed advancement and other people wanted to keep the town like normal.” replied Jazmine.

“Well I won’t have it!” said Grace, now in an uproar.

Jasmine agreed with Grace. She didn’t want a noisy highway running through the town.

“I’m going tomorrow to go to City Hall and fight this myself.” Grace said.

Jasmine’s stomach growled, and she remembered she forgot breakfast. She got a small snack and the day went on, not much happening.

The next day, when Jasmine woke up, sunlight was streaming through the window, but it was freezing cold outside, with a few inches of snow on the ground. Despite the cold weather, though, Grace was determined to go to City Hall. She was very upset about everything. Jasmine begged Grace to let her come with her, but Grace said that she would just get in the way. Jasmine continued to beg Grace, until she gave in and let her come along.

When they arrived at City Hall, again, there was a protest going on. There was a sign that said “Free Mic”, meaning that anyone could speak. Jasmine and Grace listened to other people talk and Grace got more information about the plan for the highway, and finally, she confidently neared the podium.

Grace began her speech self-assured, pausing at moments, thinking of moving words. 

“I have lived in Miaret all my life. I have seen it change throughout the years—some for the better, some far the worse. But in the end, the city always made the best of it. Sometimes it was a new business, or a new maor. Even though I was just a child, I went to the meetings and knew everything that was going on. I had an opinion, although I didn’t express it at the time, although I didn’t express it at the time, but now I am saying something and I ask you to listen. There are some things that to this day I wish the city never decided on. These things can affect the city for the rest of its existence. Please, do not let this happen. Although highways aren't necessarily bad, I don’t think one is right for this town. I have a nar-by neighbor that has a young baby, only five months old. She does not want her young one to grow up to the sound of cars and the sight of a busy road just outside their home. Think of what this might do to our children.”

She continued for a long time, and once she had finished her speech, the crowd was quiet, dwelling on what they had heard.

“May I talk too?” asked Jasmine, as Grace stepped down from the platform.

“I don’t think a young girl like you should make a statement,” said Grace.

“Please,” Jasmine pleaded, “Why not?”

“Well, I guess a few words won’t hurt,” Grace gave in with a sigh.

Jasmine made her short speech, inspiring many who listened. Even though she was only a child and her statement was brief, Jasmine believed it made an impact.

“Jasmine, it’s time to go!” Grace called out through the crowd.

“Do we have to?” Jasmine called back.

“We’ve already said what we have to say, and I have voted. There is nothing else to do. We will come back tomorrow to see what they decide on,” Grace replied, now near Jasmine.

“Can’t we stay and see what happened,” implored Jasmine.

“It will not change the outcome, and we need to get home,” responded Grace.

That night, Jasmine thought about the day, Grace’s speech and her own. She hoped they made a difference. She tried not to think about what might happen if they did put a highway near their house, but soon, she drifted off to sleep. 

The next day, Grace went to town, but this time Jasmine couldn’t come along, because she had too many things to get done and too much to do at home.

Later, that afternoon, when Grace returned, she was pleased to announce that they weren’t going to build a highway after all, and right then, as Jasmine heard her mother say it, was sure that their speeches had made a difference.