A Different Light (20 page)

“Yes, ma’am.” An elderly gentleman was responding to the question posed by the young reporter who was wrapped in a heavy parka. “We will stay here until the city agrees to talk with us. That’s all we’re asking for. We just want them to listen …”

“I hear you,” Athen replied aloud to the nameless, weathered face on the screen. “I hear you. …”

I HAVE TO TELL HIM,
Athen repeated over and over to herself as she drove into her office the next day. She could not stand the way Callie looked at her, as if she’d betrayed her.

I have betrayed her. I’ve always taught her to do what’s right, and here I’m going against everything I know is right and I can’t even give her a reason why. It has to stop. We have to talk, Dan and I. And he will have to listen. He has to let me follow my conscience.

She stepped into the elevator, grateful that no reporters awaited her at this earlier-than-usual hour. Callie’s anger had gnawed at her all night. Her daughter’s words opened the door for her conscience to nag, and her inner voice refused to let her sleep until she accepted that she would have to take the initiative. It was time to cut the strings that tied her hands.

As soon as she got to the office, she would call Dan and tell him. What was the worst he could do, force her out of office? Judging from Dan’s reaction yesterday, he might be just as happy to have someone else—Wolmar? Justis?—step in for her. At least Rossi would feel fairly certain that neither of them would actively defy him, and while he might find himself in a fight to get the office back when the term ended, Dan might think it was worth it to get rid of her.

The doors slid open and she fished in her pockets for the key to her door. Raising her eyes as she crossed the lobby, she noticed a slight figure wrapped in a red raincoat just outside her office.

“Ms. Evelyn? Is that you?” she asked.

“Yes, Athen.” The woman turned to her.

“What are you doing here?” Athen shook the water from her raincoat as she slipped it off.

“I wanted to speak with you, if you have a moment to spare.” The woman looked at her with weary eyes.

“Of course. Please, come in.” Athen unlocked the office and gestured for Ms. Evelyn to follow her inside. She hung her coat up and motioned for the woman to hand over her own.

“Why, you’re wet clear through!” Athen shook some of the water from Ms. Evelyn’s coat and hung it over a chair.

“Well, yes, I suppose I am.” Ms. Evelyn appeared neither concerned nor surprised as she looked down on her sopping-wet trousers.

“Here, put this on.” Athen handed her a sweater that she kept in the office. “Let me get you some coffee. Sit down, please.” She gestured toward the sofa. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Moments later, Athen placed a mug of steaming coffee on the table in front of her unexpected visitor. “What brings you down here so early on such a terrible morning?” she asked.

“Well, it’s the people …”

Ah, yes. Athen nodded slowly. Somehow she had known this had been the woman’s mission.

“There are just so many of them. Good, hardworking people, just like you and me, on the streets for the first time in their lives. People who have held jobs from the time they were seventeen, eighteen years old, losing those jobs, losing their homes, through no fault of their own.” Ms. Evelyn’s voice was soft, devoid of anger or accusation. Just the facts. “Jobs moving out of town, banks foreclosing on mortgages, people with no place to go till they can get back on their feet again. It would break your heart as surely as it breaks mine. I’m asking for twenty minutes
of your time, Athen, to come down and see for yourself.”

The lump in Athen’s throat was enormous. She wanted to tell Ms. Evelyn everything: that she wanted to help but she’d been forbidden to intervene, but the words stuck in her throat.

“All we’re asking for is a place for folks to stay while they figure out where to go next.” Ms. Evelyn’s voice was hypnotically gentle. “We need a place where they can get out of the cold and have a warm shower, sleep in a warm bed. The churches will take care of the expenses. It won’t cost the city a dime. We’ve raised the money. We’ve had beds, food, and clothing donated. But we need a place to shelter these souls. And I knew if I explained it to you, you’d do the right thing.”

Ms. Evelyn took a long, slow sip from the mug, wrapping her fingers around it to warm them.

“I knew you’d hear me out, Athen. Now, some folks say I’m wasting my time, that you’re just a cog in the wheel, but I tell them that I know you. I knew your daddy, and I knew your John. I know your child. I know that if you could just see for yourself …” Ms. Evelyn shook her head. “Well, I know your heart is just too good to let this go on.”

The simple words, their sheer sincerity, humbled Athen, who sat in humiliated silence, knowing that entire families had suffered—continued to suffer—because of her inability to defy the command of the man who pulled her strings.

She glanced around the well-appointed room, the office of the mayor of Woodside Heights.
Where was the power?
she asked herself.
Was it in this office, or did it still rest with the man who had once occupied it?

Perhaps it was time to find out.

“It looks like the rain has stopped.” Athen rose and
reached for her coat.

She handed Ms. Evelyn her still-wet overcoat, and met the woman’s eyes without shame for the first time since she’d arrived.

“Come on, Ms. Evelyn. Let’s take a walk. …”

EVEN AFTER HAVING SEEN THE
news coverage, Athen hadn’t expected the crowd to be quite so large. The wet, shivering mass of men, women, and small children extended from the corner of Fourth and Sycamore all the way up the sidewalk past the third of the big twin houses that were at the center of the dispute. Word of her arrival spread quickly, so that by the time she’d gone less than twenty feet a path opened before her.

The anonymous faces from the news reports were suddenly flesh and blood. Patiently expectant eyes followed her as she passed, but no one spoke to her. But she knew they were all carefully watching to see what she would do.

Those huddled closest to the front of the first house parted ranks silently to permit her access to the building. Police guards stood on the porch, arms folded impassively across their chests.

“Good morning, officers.” Smiling as she climbed the steps, Athen assumed an air of confidence she did not feel.

“Morning, Mayor.” The officer blocking the door returned her greeting pleasantly. Harry Stillman had gone to school with John, and the two had remained friends. The two younger men, however, shuffled uncomfortably, unsure as to what, if any, action they should be prepared to take.

“I’d like to go inside, Harry,” Athen told him without breaking stride as she crossed the porch.

“Chief said no one’s to go in,” the officer said apologetically.

“Harry, I’m the mayor,” she whispered. “Chief Tate works for me.”

He appeared to mentally debate for a very long moment, then asked, “Do you have the key?”

The key. Of course she had no key. She shook her head, no.

“I can probably get it open for you.” He grinned nonchalantly, assuring her that a locked door was no obstacle for the former center of the Woodside Heights football team.

Athen hesitated, thinking through the unexpected dilemma that she faced. Breaking into the building had certain implications. But who would have the key? She tapped a foot in agitation. She couldn’t very well call City Hall and inquire as to its keeper. Besides, she knew Rossi would know within minutes, and then the door would never be opened.

“Go ahead, see if you can force it,” she told him determinedly. “Break it down if you have to.”

“No problem.” He put a shoulder into the door and pushed. And pushed. The door didn’t as much as creak.

“Stand back there, Athen.” He put his left shoulder down, got a running start, and slammed into the solid door. The lock gave, sending the officer flying into the front hallway.

Cheers and applause erupted from the watchful crowd. The mood turned from skepticism to hope in a heartbeat.

“Harry? Are you all right?” Athen peered anxiously after him through the doorway.

“Piece of cake.” He picked himself up off the dusty floor where he’d landed.

“I owe you one,” she told him as she stepped into the
hallway.

He smiled broadly, his square frame filling the doorway as he returned to his post, where he was cheered loudly by the onlookers outside. “Were you planning on everyone else coming in with you?”

She hadn’t really planned on anything, she realized. “Just Ms. Evelyn,” she replied.

“I’ll get her,” he told her.

Ms. Evelyn’s eyes glistened with anticipation as she tentatively entered the hall and took a look around. The house had no electricity, heat, or water. The windows on the first floor were boarded up, and years of dust and grime covered everything, yet Ms. Evelyn looked as if she were gazing upon the interior of a palace for the first time.

“Well now,” she said with restrained satisfaction. “This would do just fine.”

“It’s a bit musty.” Athen followed the wide hallway straight ahead into what had probably been the dining room.

“A few bright sunny days with the windows open will take care of that,” Ms. Evelyn assured her.

The two women walked silently through the rest of the house, room to room. The dampness was everywhere, and with the windows boarded over the house had a cold, claustrophobic atmosphere. Ms. Evelyn appeared not to notice.

And yet it occurred to Athen, the house was actually in pretty good condition. Aside from needing paint, some plaster patching, some minor repairs to the windows, and a good cleaning, there was no structural damage, no evidence of broken pipes or rotting floorboards as she’d anticipated. Why would anyone abandon such a house, permitting the city to confiscate it?

Athen pushed aside a loose board on one of the
second-floor bedroom windows. She could barely see City Hall through the fog that was rapidly rolling in. From above she heard the first rumble of thunder as yet another storm front approached.

“Are all of the houses the same?” she asked.

“Identical.” Ms. Evelyn nodded.

“What will you do for heat? How will you make the repairs?”

“We have an army of volunteers. And we can apply for grants from the state and from private foundations, and all the churches have funds set up.”

“You’ll have to get all the properties up to code before the city will permit anyone to move in,” Athen thought aloud. She knew in her gut that the code-enforcement officer would be ordered to prevent the buildings from passing inspection. The growing, twisted knot in her stomach reminded her that the real battle had not yet begun.

“You leave all that to me, Athen. You lease these houses to the UCC and you will be amazed at what we can do in His name,” Ms. Evelyn told her.

I hope He knows a way around Dan Rossi,
Athen thought as she headed down the stairwell and through the still-open front door.

The crowd hushed as she stepped outside. They were waiting, she knew, for some pronouncement from her, but she had no thoughts to share. She thanked Harry for his part in getting her into the house, all the while wondering how she could get out without having to say anything.

Trusting faces watched her eagerly; hopeful eyes followed her as she reached the top step. Words formed and re-formed within her mind, but no sound passed her lips. The tableau before her remained frozen, expectant.

“Mrs. Moran, does your presence here this morning
signal a change in the city’s position regarding these properties? Have you and the Council of Churches come to an agreement?” A deep voice she knew all too well broke the silence.

Quentin stood no more than six feet from her. She tried not to look at him, wanting to avoid the taunt that only she would see in his eyes. He was too close to her to be ignored, and she was forced to face him there before the crowd. She wanted to respond intelligently, confidently, wanted to impress upon him that this was not the old Athena Moran who stood before him, and that she wanted him to be the first to know.

Before she could open her mouth, the lights from a TV camera on her right nearly blinded her as a reporter in a heavy parka thrust a microphone into her face and asked, “Mrs. Moran, these people have camped here for the past four days waiting for a word from City Hall. Why today? What brought you here today after almost a week of silence?”

“A friend asked me to come.” Athen descended the steps. Massive clouds, gunmetal gray and almost low enough to touch, sped overhead, rumbling ominously. She’d barely make it back to City Hall before the deluge began.

“Are you considering negotiating a lease with the UCC for all three buildings?” The reporter followed her. “If so, when might the buildings be available?”

“I don’t know,” she replied as the first fat drops of rain began to splash on the sidewalk in front of her. “I wanted to see them for myself before making a final decision.”

“Will what you’ve seen here today influence your decision?” the reporter shouted above the thunder.

Athen nodded and took a step forward. It was only a matter of seconds before the downpour began for real.

“Can you comment on the suitability of these buildings for use as shelters as proposed by the Council of Churches?” The reporter made it clear that storm or no storm, she would get her story.

“I think the homes are highly suitable, easily adaptable.” Athen was all but yelling at the top of her voice as the thunder crashed.

“Will you be recommending to City Council that these buildings be made available for that purpose?” The camera crew was preparing to shut down as the final question was asked.

“Yes.” Athen pulled her already saturated collar around her neck and headed into the storm to return to her office.

“But will you have enough votes to get it passed?” Quentin’s note of sarcasm stopped her in her tracks.

She turned to meet his eyes, and having no response, she shrugged her shoulders and turned away.

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