Storia: The Mayor's Last Speech (L'Ultimo Discorso del Sindaco)
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A large crowd of concerned citizens had gathered to hear the mayor’s speech.
“Three years ago, you honoured me with your vote,” he said. “But I have let you down. The town has run out of money.”
“Where did it all go?” shouted the butcher.
“You all remember the beer festival?” said the mayor.
Last year, the town had voted to hold an extravagant beer festival. In the mayor’s campaign, he had said it would boost the local economy. Hundreds of marquees were built, with lighting, plumbing and rustic decorations. Thousands of people came to party for two weeks.
“We’re still cleaning up the mess,” the mayor explained. “We stored the marquees in the museum’s basement, but now they’re mouldy… and so is the basement.”
“Well, what’s your plan?” someone asked.
“I’ve run out of ideas,” the mayor admitted. “That’s why I’m resigning and leaving the town… in shame.” He wiped a tear with his tie.
The crowd murmured with concern.
“Don’t say that!” said a woman in a pink dress. “You did your best. You don’t have to leave us.”
“I do,” said the mayor sadly. “How can I live with you all, knowing I failed you? I’ve already packed my bags. I don’t want any fuss. My train leaves in two hours.”
“Wait – we can still save the town! We can open the Fairfields’ vault!”
For generations, the Fairfields had been the town’s richest family. When the last Fairfield had died, she had left instructions that her family vault remain closed for one hundred years. After that, the contents of the vault would become the property of the town. It was due to be opened next year.
“But… no!” the mayor cried. “The Fairfields were good to this town. They built the schools, paved the streets, and donated to good causes throughout their lives. We can’t disrespect Mrs Fairfield’s wishes! We would gain her money – but lose our dignity!”
“Did you say ‘money’?” someone shouted. “Let’s go!”
The crowd rushed towards the old mansion where the Fairfields had lived. They broke down the gates and stormed inside. Soon, they discovered the stairs leading underground to a heavy metal door.
“Move aside!” shouted the mayor. He pushed his way to the front. “If you insist on this course of action, I will open the door. That way, none of you will feel guilty about it. I will take full responsibility. Let me do this for you before I leave.”
There was a murmur of gratitude. The woman in pink put her hand on her heart.
The mayor turned the huge handle. They heard gears spinning, followed by a loud crunch. The mayor heaved the door open, and they all poured inside.
People shone torches around the stone room. There were many portraits on the walls. In the middle was a stone plinth. Otherwise, the room was empty.
“There is an engraving!” the mayor said excitedly. Someone shone their torch on the plinth, and the mayor read aloud: “The people in the portraits are my family and friends. I had vast wealth, but there was nothing more precious to me than them. They were people just like you. Remember: as long as you have the people you love, you are richer than a king or queen.”
“So… the real treasure was…” said the butcher slowly.
“Oh shut up!” said the woman in pink. “That useless, rich, old woman! She made us wait a century for this sentimental rubbish?”
The crowd disappeared, feeling angry, disappointed and thirsty. Many of them had already started thinking about the next beer festival.
After everyone had left, the mayor sighed and locked the door again. He took out his phone and called his business partner.
“That plinth you made was completely persuasive!” he said. “No, no one noticed the door had been opened before. But let’s catch up later over a beer, ok? I’ve got to catch a train.”