The council men sat neatly behind a long table and Bobby handed each a copy of his plan. It was simple, hand written, but it covered everything from the food truck to the recipes. When he was incarcerated it was his dream to start this business. It kept him going.
The council men were all as official as could be, jackets, ties, white shirts, and they all had soft bellies to match their lazy smiles.
"Mama's Favorites," the Mayor asked.
Bobby stood and paced a bit, he was tall and lean, his hair cropped close to his dark skin and he managed a smile as he spoke.
"I know a lot about farming, and I got my land producing just fine, from the corn to the chickens, but my love is cooking.You know up State there I learned me just about every angle and these recipes will be handled with the pride you put into this city."
The mayor spoke for the group.
"You know our concern Bobby in giving you a permit there will be a lot to answer about your past. You was gone a long time son. You killed somebody Bobby. And a lot of people wanted you gone forever many still here. I know Baxter was a hard man to get along with and I know you sure didn't intend him to pass when you threw that punch."
Bobby looked at the mayor and the other men in the room.
"I don't want to sell corn and produce on the side of the road forever while my mama can't even buy a dress for church service. I want a chance and I want to give chances."
The men needed some time. Bobby was asked to wait outside with his mother. The waiting would be painful.