J.D. Trafford - Michael Collins 02 - No Time to Die by J.D. Trafford Page A

officially close immediately, but we still need to assess assets and outstanding debts.”
    Jane sat stoically at the end of the table. She knew that this day had been coming. She had thought about it, but still wasn’t prepared for the moment when it actually happened. She had been in denial.
    She thought back to the beginning, and then she thought about now. Ten years of her life about to be ended by a vote. No measurable results. No objective benchmarks of success .
    Jane thought about the half-dozen early agreements that she had negotiated with growers in Jesser, improving working conditions. She got little things, like a place for some workers to go to the bathroom. Another grower built a shaded place for the workers to eat lunch. She blocked deportation proceedings, obtained green cards for family members and reunited husbands and wives. She made sure that the children of the workers were allowed access to the public school system, the hot lunch program, and health care.
    No measurable results. No objective benchmarks of success.
    Jane wanted to ask the board, “How do you measure the success of poverty lawyers when there will always be poverty? Every day there are choices. Do you work on the systemic or do you work on the problem staring at you right now and asking for help? Giving Miggy a hot meal wasn’t going to cure his mental illness or make him employable, but it was going to give him some dignity. That should count for something. There’s a balance.”
    But Jane never asked the questions. She never made the argument. She was too tired to fight her own board of directors. Jane closed her eyes and reminded herself to breathe.
     
    ###
    The meeting adjourned. The board members stood, stretched, and gathered up their things.
    Jane remained seated. Each of the board members came up to her to express their sadness and disappointment that they had just voted to close the organization that she had started. Eventually they all left.
    They had their own lives and families to take care of. They had their own careers to further, and ultimately the Community Immigrant Legal Services had been too much of a burden.
    She watched them through the window. They got into their cars and SUVs that collectively cost more than the nonprofit’s annual budget. Each car and SUV was worth more than Jane’s yearly salary.
    “ Lawyers are cheap bastards,” Jane said to nobody in particular.
    Michael stood.
    “Can I buy you a beer?”
    Jane allowed a tear to escape. It rolled down her cheek.
    “I did my best.” She wiped her cheek dry.
    “ I know you did.” Michael put his hand on her shoulder. “Everybody knows you did.” Michael took Jane’s hand and pulled her up from her chair. “But, you still didn’t answer my question: Can I buy you a beer?”
    Jane put her arms around Michael and pulled him in.
    “You can buy me a beer.” She kissed his cheek, and then whispered in his ear. “I’ll even let you buy me more than one.”
     

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    Word spread quickly of what had happened to Jane and Community Immigrant Legal Services, Inc.
    Tyco, the owner of The Box, wrapped her in a big bear hug. He declared that her money was no good – all drinks were on the house. So, Michael, Kermit, and Jane settled into their booth and didn’t expect to leave until they were kicked out.
    Jane gave Kermit a detailed description of the board meeting, and then the conversation wound around to other topics.
    “ What’s with Miggy?” Jane asked. “I saw him sitting outside the bar when we came in.”
    Kermit grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth.
    “I told him to join us, but he said that being indoors freaks him out. He sleeps in the fields.”
    Kermit shrugged his shoulders and grabbed some more popcorn.
    “His choice.” Kermit pointed at Jane. “But he really wants some alone time with you, my dear. I think that’s why he’s really hanging around.”
    “ So he can show me the spirits?”
    “