The Girl Who Owned a City by O. T. (Terry) Nelson

of thieves. But there are lots of other things you’re going to need besides food. How about aspirin? Band-Aids? Soap? Matches? Flashlights? Charcoal? Toilet paper? Bactine? Vitamins? Seeds for your solarium? Where are you going to steal these things when all the supplies are used up? What good will stealing do, then or now?”
    Lisa reached into her bag and pulled out a sample of almost every item she had named. Then she pulled out a Coke. “Who wants one of these?” And a handful of candy bars. “Who wants these?” Then she threw 10 packets of vegetable seeds on the ground—carrots, corn, pumpkins, beans, and some others.
    She had shown enough. Their eyes widened as they stared at the treasures scattered at her feet.
    â€œI know,” she continued, “where to get hundreds of each of these items. My house is filling up with them. It’s not because I’m lucky or because I’m some kind of special person. And it’s not because I’m stealing. It’s because I decided to use my head instead of crying or praying or forming a gang!”
    She wasn’t finished yet. “But I’m not sharing a thing, not a single thing. You can attack me if you want, but I’ll burn it all before I let any thieves have it.”
    Her plan hadn’t included getting angry, so Lisa relaxed her voice. It took a moment. “Craig is right. Soon we can survive by learning how to grow things. Until then, my sources will keep us alive. But I won’t share anything until we all agree on a militia.
    â€œFor Craig’s garden to grow or my ideas to work, we have to have protection against the gangs. When they run out of things to steal, they’ll come after us. Someday, if we’re smart, we’ll be growing food and making things, and we’ll learn how to survive forever without taking from anyone. But now we need a militia. It will give us time to use our heads and a chance to protect what we have. I’ll share what I know with those who will support the militia.”
    She was finished. It seemed that her strategy was working. No one had any criticism.
    â€œAny more discussion?” Lisa asked, hoping that there would be none.
    â€œThen,” she added, “I call for a vote. All those who promise to support the militia, stay here and we’ll start to make plans. Those who refuse, go back to your homes.”
    Nobody moved. So it was agreed.
    â€œCraig can be the commander of the militia,” Lisa said. “Let’s meet here again tomorrow at four, and Craig will present his plan for our defense. I’ll help you, Craig. I have some ideas. Anyone else who has suggestions, please give them to Craig before the meeting. Also, will each house decide on an alarm and tell us what it is tomorrow?”
    That was the end of the meeting. One of the children asked Lisa if there would be popcorn tomorrow. She smiled and said that there would be.
    The Grand Avenue Militia was formed.

    Lisa’s mind was alive with ideas that night. Somewhere in the middle of her thoughts, Todd interrupted. “What does strategy mean, Lisa?”
    She was too tired to be sure, but she answered. “Strategy is a plan for action that you think will work. If it does, it’s a plan that is logical.”
    The word logical helped make it clear to him, and he asked, “What was your plan at the meeting?”
    She explained that she had brought the popcorn to gain the children’s confidence. Then she had let them run out of words before making her deal—food in exchange for a militia. Finally, to convince them that she wasn’t just talking, she had shown what was in the bag as proof.
    â€œTo be free, you need protection against people who want to control your life. No one should tell you how to work or take what you have earned.” Then she was too tired to say anymore.
    â€œGood night, Toddy-boy. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” Before she put