9
We got to the hotel late. JJ was already sleeping in the backseat by the time we got there, and Jack had to carry him upstairs. By the time we got our bags into our rooms and got everything situated, Jack and I were so exhausted that we went to our rooms and I crawled into my bed and fell right to sleep. So polite of him to have seperate rooms, also ... a bummer but JJ came first.
I was up early the next morning, getting everything set up downstairs. The hotel had devoted several rooms to vendors, with tables lining the room and forming multiple aisles for the guests to weave between. There were people selling toys, jewellery, clothing, books, comics, and all manner of homemade artistic creations. I ended up at a table in the back corner, next to a man selling pewter statues to my left, and a couple selling copies of their urban fantasy novel on my right.
I was dressed in a fitted Steampunk-style cowboy outfit, complete with brass goggles on my hat and a six-shooter holstered at my side.
I set my paintings out, spreading them across the table and standing a few up on the ground, leaning against the table legs. At one end of the table I set a big five-gallon jug from the museum's water cooler, with a "Save the Clock Tower" flyer taped to the front. I set the flyers and pamphlets on the table where they'd be within easy reach of the customers, then settled in to wait. Jack and JJ joined me just before the fair opened.
It took awhile before anyone made their way back to my part of the vendor room. A few people politely looked at my paintings without making a purchase. Some tossed a bit of loose change into the donation jug. We handed out some flyers, and explained the story of the clock to anyone patient and polite enough to stand there and listen. Though by the time a couple of hours had passed, we had barely raised any money, and I'd only managed to sell two paintings.
"We need to rethink our strategy," Jack said. "Is it always like this? People browsing and moving on?"
"Most years, yes." I sighed. "It gets busier in the afternoon, and there's still tomorrow, too. But we're nowhere close to getting the ball rolling yet." The jug probably had less than $50 in it, and while the online fundraiser was picking up some steam, it still hadn't come close to the first $1000 yet.
"We've got to ask for help," JJ said. He grabbed an armful of flyers and moved around the table into the aisle. "I bet everyone will help if we ask."
"JJ, don't go bothering people," I said, holding a hand up in protest. But it was too late. He was already talking to the man selling the pewter statues and handing him a flyer.
"Excuse me, sir." JJ looked up at the man with a bold posture, his back straight and his chin raised. "Will you help us save the clock tower?"
"What's up, little Marty McFly?" the man asked. He looked over the flyer. "That poor clock. Looks like a thing of beauty."
"It's been broken for years," JJ said. He launched into an explanation about the clock's history, repeating all the details I'd explained to him. When he finished his pitch, he asked, "Can you help?"
"Sure thing, little man," the vendor said. He opened his metal cash box and pulled out a five dollar bill, then dropped it into the jug. "Happy to help the cause."
"But can you help tell people about it, too?" JJ handed the man a dozen flyers. "We need everyone to help."
The man looked at me and Jack, smirking.
"Sure thing," he told JJ. He set the flyers at the front of his table, where they were flanked by pewter automatons and statues of men wearing goggles and holding wrenches. "I'm sure I could send some people your way."
Jack and I watched as JJ moved from table to table, recruiting one vendor after another to our cause. I would never have been so bold as to bother strangers who were here trying to sell their own goods, but JJ seemed to have no problem with asking anyone and everyone for help. And he didn't just settle for people saying "Sure" or "No Problem." He didn't let people ignore him. He pressed until people promised to help, declaring their support for our cause.
And somehow, it worked. I didn't know if it was because he was a cute kid that people couldn't say no to. Or if pledging their support out loud made people feel a personal sense of obligation to follow through on their word. But dozens of other vendors in the room started sending their customers down to our table, where people tossed their change, and sometimes bills, into our donation jar. Others started going online to pledge a donation through the fundraiser site, and whenever I checked my phone, I saw the #SaveTheClockTower hashtag exploding with tweets from people I'd never met.
The biggest help, however, came when JJ headed into the next room, where some of the fair's celebrity performers were signing autographs. The fair didn't draw any big time movie stars or anything like that, but there was a huge niche for Steampunk-style music and chap hop, and some of the singers and musicians were really big in the indie scene.
I followed JJ into the autograph room to try to stop him before he got into trouble, but by the time I got there, he was already talking to the performers from one of the bands. A woman dressed in a pseudo-1800s costume and wearing makeup that made her look like a robot was listening to JJ's pitch with a big smile on her face.
"Will you help us get people to save the clock tower?" JJ asked, handing her a flyer.
"Aww, well how could I say no?" the woman said. "Tell you what, sweet boy, I'll make sure to let people know. Can't let that poor clock stay broken. For all I know, it's a relative of mine." She winked and tapped on some of the clockwork parts sewn into her wardrobe, all part of her character as a steam-powered automaton.
"Thank you," JJ said.
"Thanks," I added, putting an arm around JJ's shoulders and steering him away before he embarrassed me in front of one of my favourite bands. I almost stopped and asked for an autograph, but unlike JJ, I just didn't have the nerve.
I brought JJ back to our table. We were a little bit swamped, and the water jug was starting to fill up nicely. I had no idea how much money was in it, but I saw a few people dropping in $5's and $10's along with all the loose change. Jack was handing out museum tickets to everyone who made a donation in any amount, even just a handful of change. I had no idea how many of these people would actually drive all the way out to Western Pennsylvania to come to our little railroad museum, but if even a handful of them were from that area, it would be worth it.
The live music shows started later that night. One of my regrets every year was that I usually didn't get the chance to actually see the bands perform. Going to see the show would mean spending a couple of hours away from my table, and that was time I needed to spend selling paintings and collecting donations. Though the good news was that the hotel piped the band's music through the speakers, so everyone in the vendor room still got to hear it, even if we couldn't see the band on stage on the other side of the hotel.
After they'd played several songs, the band took a break. And that's when I heard the woman JJ had talked to speaking into the microphone. "Hello boys and girls! Thank you all so much for coming. We hope you're having a great time. And if you are, don't forget we've got CDs and merchandise for sale after the show, or you can check out our website."
There was a pause while the audience cheered. I could hear their shouts without needing the speakers. Then the singer continued, "And I've got a special little story to share. I met a little boy not long ago who I think was a mini-Marty McFly. He asked me for some help with a special mission, and now, my wonderful people, I'm asking you. They're trying to raise money to save the clock tower!"
There were more cheers, while the singer read off the details from our flyer, including the fundraiser website and our #SaveTheClockTower hashtag. "So, beautiful people," she said, "spare these poor folks a buck and help them get their clock fixed. Cause we all know, there's nothing more tragic than clockwork that doesn't tick!"
After that, the online fundraiser simply exploded. We started getting a landslide of donations, and when I checked my phone, Twitter was abuzz with people tweeting pictures of the band along with links to the fundraiser and our hashtag. The band's official Twitter account even posted a link, and it picked up thousands of retweets. Before I knew it, our donations crossed the $5000 mark, then $10,000. The surge trickled down within a few hours after the show ended, but the signal boost had helped get us enough attention that there was a slow but steady stream of support after that.
.
..
.
The fundraiser continued for a few weeks after the fair was over, and we passed our goal with more than enough money to spare. By the time the website shut down on the last day, we had enough to pay for all the replacement parts and the installation. Plus there was a new surge of business at the museum after all of the publicity from our fundraiser, and between the new flow of guests and the leftover money from the clock repair, we were even able to hire a new part-time janitor.
WHEW
