by Martha Carr
“I know, I know,” Fred said.
“You don’t know. How could you? And now my best friend is dead. My friend who was not a member of either side!” She spit out the last words. “I played by the rules because I believed it would keep everyone safer,” she cried out.
“Maureen, you did make everyone safer,” he said, pulling her closer, “you did. As horrible as these past few days have been, these past years would have been a lot worse if there weren’t people like us holding them back as much as possible.”
“How can you say that?” she said through clenched teeth.
“It’s not always about what we can see. Sometimes the victories are about what hasn’t happened and that’s harder to quantify.” He had sat back on his heels and gently tilted up her face so he could look into her eyes. “Look, I’ve been thinking about a few things, lately and I’ve realized I’ve made some mistakes. This marriage may have been arranged but it’s still a marriage. It’s still ours and we can treat it more like that than I’ve really left room for in the past.”
“You mean that?” she said. She had sat back, still holding the pin tight in her grasp.
“Maureen, my wife, when have you ever known me to say one word without first thinking about it from every angle?” He had managed to get the beginning of a smile out of her. “But we have to dispose of this pin and we have to do it the right way. You know that, right?”
She had looked away for a moment and then slowly opened her hand. “Take it,” she said. “It won’t bring back Yvette and it won’t make anyone at Management back down. But if you can be here more, if I can find more balance, then maybe together we can figure out how to at least chip away at them a little more. Maybe I can be the constant paper cut in their giant backside.”
Maureen blinked a few times trying to stop herself from tearing up as she sat in Tina’s family room remembering the first tender moment she had ever had with her husband. She sipped her coffee and realized it was getting cold. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Julia, who was sitting back glumly in her chair.
Wallis had gotten coffee and was standing next to Laurel listening to her gently grill Lois. She wasn’t in the mood to go and coddle Julia anyway. Maureen apparently didn’t want to either, she thought, as she watched her pour herself another cup of coffee from the percolator and came to stand nearby.
“So, you said this is the third tea you’ve thrown for Sutler? It’s becoming like a tradition,” said Laurel, smiling.
“Oh, yes,” said Tina, “ever since our son started in middle school there we’ve been hosting a tea for prospective parents. We love it so much and want to help spread the word.”
“I have two young boys of my own,” said Laurel. “So full of energy and I have big plans for them. What do you think Sutler has done for your boy?”
She’s as good as Harriet at this, thought Wallis. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was really one of the pushy parents who Wallis saw bleating in the halls of the courtroom every day about their entitlement. They always needed more money for yet another activity to make sure their child would succeed.
“He’s really blossomed,” said Tina, smiling widely. “This year he ran for student treasurer and has gone out for track. We’re very pleased.” Wallis noticed Tina wasn’t mentioning what the boy had actually succeeded at just yet.
“But how is that any different from Godwin? They have all of those things and for free. Even bigger stage to succeed, isn’t it? More children, more activities? I don’t know, am I wrong?” asked Laurel.
“Well, it’s not just about what the children are doing now but where they will end up, as well. You know, the connections they become,” said Tina, smiling harder. “Excuse me, I’d better check on our guest speaker,” she said, and turned her back to the small gathering. Wallis watched to see who was the speaker and saw a woman she recognized from Harriet’s church. The woman looked up and smiled at Wallis, giving her a thumbs up. Wallis nodded back, wondering what exactly that meant.
“I don’t believe you got a really good answer,” said Maureen, smiling at Laurel. “Ask that one again at the presentation.”
Laurel laughed and said, “I had a few more but she got away from me. I hope it didn’t hurt my chances.”
“Okay ladies, it’s time to start,” said Tina from the other room, clapping her hands sharply. Wallis hastily poured two cups of coffee and brought them back to her seat, handing one to Julia. Laurel found a seat closer to the front and sat up primly like she was going to soak in every word. Wallis wanted to hug her tightly for what she was doing and at the same time remind her of how deadly these people could be at times. Better to annoy them enough to put a little doubt in other people’s minds but not so much they would want to put Laurel on any kind of list. What had Norman called it? A Watcher’s list, thought Wallis, and shuddered slightly. She tried to cover by pulling her jacket closer and taking a sip of coffee.
Tina stood in front of the small gathering and said excitedly, her arms moving, “Today we’re very fortunate to have Mimi Blanchard from the board of regents of Sutler School. Mimi has had four children graduate from Sutler and has been tirelessly working for the school for almost twenty years. I could go on and on about all of Mimi’s service to our community but I’d rather not take up too much time and instead get on with the reason everyone is here. So, I will concede the floor to Mimi,” said Tina, to polite applause as she took a seat in the front row.
Mimi Blanchard stood up in front of the women and immediately launched into a long story of how many families who had come from nothing had watched their children grow and thrive at Sutler. “It’s such a privilege to be a part of their success story at breaking the chain of poverty as they struggle to reach for bigger dreams,” she said. The women applauded again. Mimi brushed back an imaginary blonde hair into place. Her upturned hair was held neatly in place and there was nothing about the wool suit or simple jewelry or anything else that needed to be adjusted or fixed. Even the flag pin was turned at just the right angle.
Wallis made herself keep breathing deeply. She knew that the sales pitch was working because without the rest of the details on Management’s plans everything sounded so wonderful, and very few would believe the reality if they didn’t see it firsthand.
The women took a short break and Wallis moved her knees to the side so that Julia could run to the bathroom. Maureen offered to get her more coffee but she said no, and handed over the mug. She was jittery enough without the added caffeine.
Mimi came over and said offered her hand to Wallis. “I’m so glad you came after all,” she said, giving her best Southern smile. “We heard you were thinking of joining us. It’s about time. I’ve been telling your mother for years we needed to get your more involved.”
Wallis was struggling for something to say when Tina gave another sharp clap, clap of her hands and the women came rushing back to their seats. Mimi gave her a wink and went back to the front of the room.
Wallis struggled to stay calm and wondered what the home life was like for the rest of the family with Tina clapping everyone to attention like they were trained dogs.
Mimi launched into the next part of her presentation telling everyone what to expect as they moved through Sutler and what kinds of scholarships were available. There was a chart listing all of the colleges and universities that Sutler graduates had gone onto and a list of professions with a breakdown of how many ended up where and how they had ended up helping each other over and over again throughout their careers. A real network. Laurel twisted around in her seat and made a face at Wallis like she was saying it was all a little impressive. Wallis smiled at her. They made a good spy team, she thought.
Mimi finally wound down and asked for questions just as Laurel’s hand shot in the air. Wallis tried to look nonchalant and glanced over at Maureen who was leaning forward to catch the question.
“How old does a child have to be before you can apply?” asked Laurel.
Mimi looked over at Tina and they smiled at each other as if they had finally won over even the most recalcitrant among the ladies. “One full year prior to entering the school,” said Mimi and looked over Laurel’s head to see if any other hands went up in the air.
“What could we do in the meantime to better ensure their acceptance,” Laurel quickly added.
“A strong academic, service and athletic school portfolio certainly helps,” said Mimi, glancing at Laurel before looking around the room and opening her arms wide.
“Just one more, Mimi. What would we owe Sutler if we decided halfway through their high school career to move them say, into Godwin and public school?” asked Laurel.
Wallis held her breath and waited. Mimi’s smile pulled into a shiny, thin, lavender line for a moment before the large smile was plastered back into place.
“All of that is discussed at the time of admission. Does anyone else have a question or concern? We’d like to hear from everyone,” said Mimi, looking around the room.
“Well, give us some idea of what that might look like,” said Laurel, no longer asking, “You know, an example. Like the stories you told of the families who broke the chains. There must be a few who changed their mind.”
Mimi’s smile was still frozen into place but her eyes gave her away, thought Wallis, watching the woman grow angrier with every word out of Laurel’s mouth.
“You know, you’d be surprised. There are really very few. We have a very careful screening process and we have found that with the right questions we can make a good match between Sutler and their students. Very few young people ever choose to leave.”
“Now, that’s impressive,” said Laurel, with just as much enthusiasm as she sat back in her chair. Wallis noticed Maureen watching Laurel and smiling, as she slid back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.
Chapter Twenty
The shad planking was always held in Wakefield, Virginia on the first Saturday in April by the local Ruritan Club as far back as 1949. Norman pulled up to the open field that was turned into a parking lot for the day just as people were starting to gather. He wanted the chance to shake hands and meet a few people before the good Virginia bourbon that got passed around could take hold and the speechifying started. The drive up to the clearing in the woods was dotted with thousands of political signs for both sides of the Republican and Democratic aisle. They had been planted by dutiful interns the night before and would disappear just as quickly that night after the revelry was over.
The event had started out years ago as strictly Southern Democrats who were almost all good Baptists with some old family Episcopalians mixed in and all the complexities of what those combinations meant in Virginia. However, just as many Republicans were now attending the event and trading campaign buttons and pins with anyone who would haggle and trade. There still were only a handful of Jews, Catholics, blacks or women but just enough to count as integration in the South.
The original celebration had started fifteen years earlier in Smithfield, which was still more famous for its peanuts and ham than the oily, bony fish that used to run in large numbers through the rocky James River. The very first gatherings, before even the Southern Democrats joined in, were made up of local hunters and fishermen as a way to pay tribute to the shad and were the male equivalent of a Southern ladies’ Junior League tea. Instead of the expected pearls and good silver, there were tan khakis and good silver flasks.
Men could tromp around in the woods, smoke Marlboros and Camels from nearby Phillip Morris and tell off-color jokes without upsetting anyone. Eventually, they got around to the reason they were there, which was smoking the shad on hickory planks over a large open flame while still trading tall tales around the large fire.
Every year there were stories about the antics at the event that grew more colorful with every telling and soon enough, more men wanted to join in the next year.
However, like any good time in the smaller counties of Virginia that involved food and a few voters, the politicians soon started showing up in ever larger numbers supposedly just to shake a few hands. Since then, anyone interested in running for any kind of state office for the past fifty years had made a point to attend and look like he was having a hell of a time.
As the numbers grew a few of the organizers saw an opportunity to raise some money for a good cause and make sure the event wasn’t a drag on any of the attendees’ wallets. It was a rousing success every year.
The shad planking was also unique in these parts because it was one of the few social events where there was an even mixture of Circle and Management team members shaking hands and telling jokes. They were bound to follow like a bead on an invisible string tied to first the voters and then the politicians. Most of the Ruritans who organized the event were aware of their presence but had made it a rule that no one could bring that into their planking.
“We don’t have a dog in this fight,” was the message that was passed back.
Once or twice someone in Management had tried anyway and had been told to sit at home for a few years till they had learned how to listen and play nice. It was pretty much the only rule the event enforced.
Norman parked his Jeep and made his way through the field shaking hands and taking pats on the back as people asked after Wallis and his brother, Tom.
“Norman, how’s Tom getting along?” It was Louie, changed out of his EMT uniform and into the more casual uniform of light tan khakis and a starched, white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
“He’s up on crutches and bothering everybody,” said Norman. “I’d have brought him with me but he’s been too heavily influenced by all of that Yukon politics that comes over the border where he lives and I knew it would just annoy everyone.”
“Maybe even earn you a time out for next year’s planking,” said Hank, a Circle operative who ran a veterinary clinic in the West End.
“Exactly,” said Norman, as he moved into the crowd. “I’m going to go see what kind of good bourbon I can lawyer out of somebody before it’s all gone. I’ll catch up with y’all later,” he said, nodding as he quickly blended into the crowd.
He saw a few of the local deputies from Wakefield in uniform wandering through the crowd and thought of Oscar but he was nowhere to be seen. Norman wasn’t sure what he’d do if he was to cross paths with him. He felt certain he’d probably earn the first lifetime ban from the shad planking. The thought made him smile until he spotted Richard Bach taking a swig and leaning in to make some point among a group of men Norman recognized as all Management operatives. Of course the man wore a tie to a shad planking, thought Norman. “Not even Father Donald wore his collar to this event,” he said.
“Calling my name in vain,” said the Reverend as he offered Norman a small, fluted drinking glass with two fingers of bourbon in it. The minister was wearing the required khakis and a pale blue button down shirt.
“It’s so strange to see you out of uniform,” said Norman.
“Besides the shower or bedtime it’s really the only time of year that I am.”
“You just get here?” asked Norman.
“I’ve been here a little while. No sign of Oscar or any of his cohorts. They’re probably not coming this year, which is a very good idea. I imagine Mr. Bach over there had something to do with that or his boss, Robin Spingler. You see her? She’s over there telling jokes that even managed to embarrass me,” said Father Donald.
“That is an achievement,” said Norman.
“I’ve noticed that Richard is making more of a point than usual not to be in her orbit. Makes me wonder if he’s the cause of a lot of our problems lately. I haven’t said anything directly to him other than hello, though. I thought I’d save that for you. Seems like you’ve earned it.”
“Maybe after I’ve had a drink,” said Norman. “I’m not sure I could handle a conversation with him much better.”
“You know, I appreciate that you’re really not a Circle oper
ative. You don’t just suck it up and bury the feelings to get on with the mission. It’s kind of refreshing considering what I have to listen to for a better part of every day.”
“Makes the more mundane confessions of adultery and lying seem like a slow day,” said Norman, taking a swig.
“Amen,” said Father Donald. “You know there’s chatter up the line that’s very troubling,” said the minister looking down into his glass. “Apparently, there’s a strongly held belief that there’s a liar amongst us. Someone who goes way back that’s crossed over with the express purpose of spilling secrets.”
“I know, Tom has been hinting around at the same thing. He said they called it the Emerald Ash Solution. Made me think of my childhood when there were a few more ash trees left. I take it that’s why he’s in town and was meeting with Esther in the first place,” said Norman, finishing off the drink in a large gulp. Father Donald poured a little more into his glass.
“This is probably enough for you today. Calm your nerves, what with everything that’s going on around you but keep your wits together. I’m glad Tom didn’t come with you. Everyone can see that you’re not home with Wallis and after what happened on that bridge I don’t like the idea of her being home alone with that drive still in her possession.”
Norman looked around as a warm breeze blew against his face. It did nothing to warm the feeling he had inside.
“You haven’t heard,” said Norman, “but we have another houseguest, Alice Watkins. She worked with Ray Billings and knows what was on that drive. Knows about all of it. Turns out Ray was able to figure out how to see everything.”
“I know all about Alice. The last I heard she had left town. Did she say why she’s back?”
“Someone tried to kill her. The last of the cleanup I suppose. But Alice is a very tough old bird. I’ve only known her for a couple of days and I’m not surprised they failed. I’m more surprised she didn’t inflict some kind of pain on them,” said Norman.