A Different Light

by Mariah Stewart

  “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.

  13

  The sidewalk was washed over with rainwater that sped downhill like a swollen stream. Fifty feet ahead, water at the intersection was cresting the curb, the storm sewers unable to hold even one more drop in the wake of the week’s continuous deluge. Bent forward by the fierce wind, Athen tucked in her chin and hoped she’d be able to tell where the sidewalk ended and the street began. City Hall, though only a few blocks away, was barely visible through the relentless wall of water.

  She cursed her high heels and she cursed the storm. The wind lashed wildly at her. Her long hair, as wet as if she’d just emerged from the shower, wrapped around her face so she could barely see. Halfway to the corner, a car pulled up next to her.

  “Get in,” Quentin shouted through the half-lowered window.

  “I’d rather walk.” She returned the shout without breaking stride. She reached the end of the sidewalk and took a deep breath as she prepared to step into the swirling water.

  “Don’t be an idiot.” He pulled over to the wrong side of the street so that he was a few feet from her. “The street is half washed away up there. It isn’t safe to walk. Athen, get in. Let me drive you back.”

  She paused at the edge of the curb, unable to tell how deep the water was. Looking up ahead, she could see that the next intersection was fully underwater. A small pickup truck was stranded smack in its center.

  Reluctantly, she walked to the car. No need to rush, she told herself. I can’t get any wett
er than I already am.

  “Thank you.” She got into the passenger side without looking at him.

  “Well, it wouldn’t do to have our mayor washed away in a flash flood so soon after becoming a hero.” He leaned over and turned on the heat, and adjusted the warm air to flow in her direction.

  Athen hunched into the seat, grateful for the warmth. She stared straight ahead at the wipers that slashed uselessly at the windshield. Quentin drove slowly, turning hard to the right in an attempt to avoid the lake that churned in the middle of the intersection. He made a quick right onto a side street.

  “City Hall was straight ahead,” she told him flatly. “Where are you going?”

  “The street is impassable.” He calmly pointed out the obvious. “I thought a detour might be in order, unless, of course, you’d rather backstroke down Fourth Street.”

  He slowed again as torrents of rain rushed wildly down both sides of the street. He took a left and headed up the hill on Ashbridge, but that street, too, was flooding. He turned up Hoffman Boulevard, seeking the highest elevation in the city. If anything, the rain seemed to intensify.

  “This is futile.” Quentin pulled into a parking lot behind a convenience store and turned off the engine. Obviously, he was not oblivious to her annoyance at being stuck with him in the confines of his car. “I realize you’re not happy to be stuck with me. I think we’ll have to wait a bit. I’m sorry.”

  He pulled back the hood of his dark green parka, allowing his dark damp curls to tumble almost to his eyebrows. Small rivers of water ran down his forehead, and he brushed them away with the back of his hand.

  Athen continued to stare out the window, choosing not to respond to his apology. She had more on her mind than the storm. The knot in her stomach had spread. Burning fingers of fear and doubt reached her chest as the enormity of the commitment she’d made came into focus.

  Quentin turned on the radio, searching for a station that offered something other than static or hip-hop. He cocked an ear, listening closely as he sped up the dial, then backtracked to tune into something that caught his fancy.

  “So.” He punctuated the one word with a drumroll of sorts on the steering wheel.

  “Don’t feel that you have to make conversation,” she told him. “I know you don’t want to. It was very kind of you to offer me a ride, and I appreciate it, but you don’t have to pretend to want to talk to me.”

  “Fine.” Rebuffed, he turned up the volume on the radio.

  Athen folded her hands on her lap and gazed straight ahead. Maybe she should have taken her chances with the tidal wave at the intersection.

  Quentin, too, stared out the front window, watching the buckets of water that poured from the sky onto his car. The storm gave no indication that it would subside any time in the near future. They sat like total strangers sharing a bus seat.

  Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to ask. “Why are you so mean to me?”

  She watched his reflection in the window but did not turn to face him.

  “I’d hardly call rescuing you from a watery grave being mean,” he noted dryly.

  “You know what I’m talking about. Every week. Every opportunity. Grilling me. Harassing me.”

  “Since when is it harassment for a reporter to ask an elected official for a statement on issues that directly relate to the city she serves?” Cramped in the small seat, he shifted his weight slightly to turn toward her.

  “When that reporter knows …”

  “When that reporter knows that the elected official in question is duping the people of the city by permitting someone other than herself to make all the decisions—a someone whose motives are decidedly suspect? When that reporter knows that the elected official in question has no opinions of her own and allows herself to be moved around this city like the queen on a chessboard . . . ?”

  “That is not true,” she snapped. “I have opinions.”

  “Give me a break, Athen. You haven’t publicly uttered two words that didn’t have Rossi’s fingerprints on them since Labor Day. Now, I have to admit that was quite a convincing little show you put on this morning. I would have fallen for that act myself if I didn’t know that Rossi had carefully orchestrated it.”

  “You couldn’t be farther from the truth.” She laughed wryly.

  “Come on, Athen, I know the game. You could at least be honest enough to admit that for whatever devious little reason, Rossi told you to make nice with the UCC. Of course, the fun part—from my standpoint, anyway—is figuring out what comes next. Maybe the strategy is for you to make a big show for the press, then have the buildings fail inspection. ‘Well, now, folks, we did our best to help you out, but those old houses just aren’t fit for habitation.’ Is that the plan?”

  Quentin’s impression of Dan at his politicking best was annoyingly accurate.

  “You are so far off.” Athen leaned her right elbow onto the narrow molding below the passenger-side window and tilted her head as she ran her hand through her sopping-wet hair. “You have no idea.”

  “Then why don’t you clue me in?” He leaned back against the car door and said, “If I’m wrong, you tell me what the point was of that little act of yours this morning.”

  “It wasn’t an act.”

  “Right.” He smirked. “Your compassionate concern wasn’t an act. Your indignation at having been called on it isn’t an act. While we’re on the subject, though, I thought having the cop break the door down was a great move. Added just the right touch of drama. Was that part of the script or were you ad-libbing?”

  “God, but you’re annoying.”

  She glanced out the window and took several deep breaths to calm herself as she tried to gauge if the rain had let up enough for her make it back to City Hall on foot, but the wind and water continued their savage slashing against the car.

  “Well, I have to admit you’ve piqued my curiosity,” he said. “So if I’m off base, now’s your big chance to set me straight.”

  “Rossi doesn’t know. At least he didn’t. Of course, by now I’m sure he does.”

  “Rossi didn’t know what?”

  “Rossi didn’t know I was going to Fourth Street.”

  “What do you take me for?” He laughed. “There’s no way in hell you’d make a move like that without him directing you.”

  “Believe what you want.” She shrugged, tired of his ridicule, tired of the effort it took to fight back.

  “Convince me.”

  “Quentin, I’m too weary for games. I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget I said anything at all.”

  He studied her face for a moment. “You’re serious. He didn’t know you were coming here.”

  She continued to stare out the window at the rain.

  “It was Ms. Evelyn, wasn’t it? You did it for her. Rossi told you to back off, but she asked for your help and you couldn’t say no.”

  She knew she shouldn’t trust him. Past history had taught her that. She could not explain even to herself why she didn’t keep her mouth shut.

  “Bingo,” she heard herself say.

  Quentin whistled one long, slow, steady note.

  “What happens when you tug on Superman’s cape?”

  “I guess we’ll find out.” She shrugged. “He’ll try to make me back down. Maybe try to make me resign.”

  “Don’t do it. Don’t do either.” His fingers wound lightly around her left wrist.

  “I may not have a choice.”

  “Of course you have a choice. Listen, stand your ground. If you quit, he’ll just appoint another lackey—sorry, but that’s how it looks from here. If you back down, the city will be the same as it was before you stepped into that house with Ms. Evelyn an hour ago. Nothing will ever change. Nothing will get better for those people if you let him force you out.”

  The rude stranger with the icy stare had vanished. In his place sat the man Athen had met the previous summer, a man with warmth in his voice and in his eyes.

/>   “You don’t understand how things are.” She could not bear the earnestness of his gaze, the warmth of his hand on her arm.

  “I understand much more than you realize.” He looked directly into her eyes, a small smile on his lips. “The only thing I don’t understand is what took you so long.”

  “Let’s just say that it took me longer than it should have to see what was really going on. Once I did, I couldn’t not do it.” She was suddenly very tired and chilled and wished she was home. “I couldn’t keep those people out on the street. And between my daughter, and Ms. Evelyn, and my own conscience … I had to do something.”

  “Now what? What comes next?”

  “I have no idea.” She looked down at her hands to escape the intensity of his gaze, and for a few moments the only sound came from the rain and wind outside the car.

  “Why did you turn on me the night of the rally?” she asked without looking up.

  “Well, since we’re trading truths, I guess the truth is that I was angry.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess because I thought we were starting to become friends, and I just couldn’t reconcile the woman I thought I was beginning to know with the woman who was willing to be used as a mouthpiece for a man like Rossi. I couldn’t understand why you would agree to such a sham.”

  “I didn’t know it was a sham,” she whispered.

  “How could you not know?” he demanded.

  “I didn’t know sham was an option.”

  “Oh, come on, Athen. You expect me to believe you agreed to do this for him out of the goodness of your heart? What did he promise you?”

  “Nothing. It wasn’t anything like that. Look, I needed to get my life moving again. I needed something to do, and he offered me a job as his assistant. He was an old friend of my dad’s. I trusted him. Then everything seemed to happen so quickly.”

  “Well, that’s one hell of a promotion, wouldn’t you say, for a woman with no political experience to go from assistant to top banana in, what, four months?” he scoffed. “It’s obvious what he got from this little arrangement. What did you think you were getting out of it?”