Page 13 of Love Grows

“We would like to welcome pre-registered members of the audience who have questions regarding the Walker’s Lifestyle Warehouse.”

Paul, Lucas school buddy, leapt up, all gangly limbs and enthusiasm. “I’m Paul Invaker, the president of Harriston High Ornithological Studies Club. Mr Walker, what are you doing to protect the Eastern Australian Spotted Finch’s nesting area?”

Benjamin looked confused, then turned to Katherine, who gave a slight smile.

“Paul, that is an excellent question,” Katherine began in a smooth voice. “We’ve dealt with this before. Construction on the Sydney Walker’s Lifestyle Warehouse was stalled last year due to an environmental impact study conducted by the New South Wales Conservation Commission. I’m assuming you are aware of their thorough process since you are bringing up this question.” She stared at him and if I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn Katherine was literally telling Paul to get in touch with the Victorian version of the Conservation Commission to set up a meeting about spotted finches. “We do everything within our power to protect the environment.” Again with the stare.

Harry, his military-style haircut, sharp suit and eyebrows all forming a symphony of irritation muttered quite audibly, “There aren’t any bloody finches.”

“Mr Kirlew, the Eastern Australian Spotted Finch lives in grasslands like that over on the proposed site. That enormous area allows for the Eastern Australian Spotted Finch to feed on fallen seeds on the ground and eat some flying insects, especially when feeding their young.”

I was in love with this kid. What an earnest warrior.

“Paul, all I can say is we do everything within our power to protect the environment and will comply with any findings from the Conservation Commission.” Katherine gave him a slight smile.

“Well, ok,” Paul said. “Thanks. I’ll look into it further.” He stepped back from the lectern and arranged himself into his seat as only a teenager can.

Jules stepped forward. “I’m Jules, the owner of Coffee and Crystals, and I’m concerned that the cafe in your warehouse being so close to the highway will take away business from my cafe.”

“I’m sure there’s room for two cafes,” Benjamin laughed, which seemed to set fire to Jules hair follicles.

“That’s just placating me with a crystal ball. You don’t know that,” she said, outraged, then she shook her head. “Look. The warehouse? Great idea. The location? Shit idea. Why can’t the warehouse be moved back further from the suburban stores? The council has that area zoned as semi-commercial. You can’t build there anyway, unless the council change the boundaries.”

The mayor spoke up. “All concerned parties are entitled to put forward a complaint about the relocation of any zone boundaries.” It was like he was reading from a script.

Jules sighed. “Fine. I’ll get onto that.” She walked dejectedly back to her seat, just as I left mine. Right.

“Angel Whitlock. Owner of Dig It, the nursery next to Coffee and Crystals. Now, Benjamin. Can I call you Benjamin? Great.” I didn’t give him time to answer which seemed to irritate him. “Have you looked into how much damage your warehouse is going to do to the local shops?”

Benjamin scoffed. “I understand the necessity of environmental studies but a financial societal-type study would be a complete waste of time. A Walker board member or shareholder would need to be employed in one of your shops to establish a full picture of the impact and that’s unlikely to happen.” He laughed.

“It’d be a damn sight better than just plonking your warehouse over the road without thought.”

I was pissed off.

“Look,” I continued, gripping the microphone stand with one hand like a 1980s glam rock singer. “I like the idea of a Walker’s Warehouse. I was in Sydney last year and needed some tools for my friend’s reno and you lot had everything I needed. So, I get it. But not there.” I pointed vaguely in the general direction of the proposed site. “I also get that there’s a market for the hack-yourself-into-a-corner influencers, but not at the expense of us.” I gestured at the group behind me. “Some of our stores have been here for decades. You’ll demolish us. A Walker’s Lifestyle Warehouse is a great idea, but the positioning is all wrong.”

“You realise that to capture the market of influencers and their need for hacks, we will need proximity,” Harry piped up.

“Yes. And again, not there.”

Then curiosity got the best of me. “You do realise that the original meaning of the word ‘hack’ is to make an absolutely awful attempt at something? The original hack. Temporarily functional but not necessarily reliable or beautiful.”

This seemed to completely throw the mayor, most counsellors, Benjamin, and Harry.

Eventually, Harry answered. “Well, language is changing. We’re keeping up with modern media and modern media is TikTok and YouTube.”

Jules whispered loudly. “Ask them what happens if the influencer fucks it up.”

I grinned, then paraphrased. “What if they don’t create the project successfully? Like match it to the actual product shown in the video? Can they still upload their attempt?”

We were now so far off topic but it was fascinating how people were responding to the question. Katherine seemed glued to the to-ing and fro-ing between Benjamin and me. Harry was shifting in his seat, either uncomfortable in his inability to answer the questions or he was still pissed about Eastern Australian Spotted Finches. The mayor kept muttering, “Well now” at random intervals.

“Absolutely they can,” Benjamin stated firmly. “Customers receive a loyalty point on their account simply by tagging us with their hack.”

I groaned. “I really dislike that word.”

Benjamin laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never used a hack.” He laughed derisively.

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