Capture Me

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Capture Me Page 38

by Natalia Banks

“Grif? Why? I think it’s great that’s he’s got a crush on her. First of all, she’s terrific. And that can only be good for his … y’know, recovery.”

  “My son isn’t sick, he never was.”

  “Our son,” Lorraine said. “But you’re right, that wasn’t the word. Anyway, he needed to come all the way out of his shell. The play’s a big part of that, the girl is, too. He’s finding his way, we shouldn’t shelter him, not now.”

  Griffin turned, reasoning as he spoke. “No, of course not. I’m glad he’s showing an interest in girls, doing this play. And a lot of that is because of you, Lorraine, your positive influence, all your support.”

  Lorraine shrugged. “He needs support, he deserves it.”

  “But, both these things are risky for Ashe, the play and the girl. I’m worried that if they get all wrapped up in each other, both things might wind up going south. You said it yourself, about dating people you work with.”

  “What about us? I worked with Phoenix Enterprises to get our PEEC program going, and that’s a huge hit. We’ve got twelve centers up and running now.”

  “After three of my top execs tried to murder you.”

  Lorraine looked up from Griffin’s chest, eyes catching him in a new light. “Are you afraid?”

  “Me? Afraid of what?” he expressed.

  “I don’t know; you tell me.”

  “Well, I don’t want my son to get in over his head and be humiliated in front of his entire school, how’s that? You know very well what it took to get him out of his shell the last time, and I don’t want him to backslide into his old habits. He didn’t speak for two years, Lorraine. You have no idea what that was like, how difficult it was for us both.”

  Lorraine leaned against his chest and sighed. “I know, Griffin, and I’m sorry about all that. Is … is that why you’re upset, because of the play?”

  “No, you know I’m in favor of him doing a play, and having a girlfriend and a new collaborator, but not all three at once! I’m afraid it’s just too much.”

  After an awkward silence, Lorraine said, “Not because of what the play’s about?”

  Griffin sighed, fingers idle in Lorraine’s short, red hair. “Yeah, that worries me, I won’t lie to you.”

  “Grif, the school counselor said it was a good way for Ashe to work through his demons.”

  “Yeah, and it’s also wallowing in the past. If he can’t leave his mother’s death in the past, how is he ever truly going to get over it? And this, writing a play about it, recreating it on stage in front of all those people, I’m afraid he could snap.”

  “Or you could?” Griffin glared at her like he wanted to contradict her but couldn’t. “I admit, Griffin, I have my doubts, too. You think I wanna play the role of the mother, his mother, and die in front of him night after night for two weeks? It’s just … it’s weird, y’know? I wanna be myself with him, not a shadow of poor Kayla.”

  “Yeah, I get that. And I can see how hard that would be to explain to Ashe.”

  Lorraine lay there, images of Ashe flashing in front of her mind’s eye. He was growing fast, becoming a man, finding his way. And Lorraine was grateful for the opportunity to help him do that, in any way she could.

  “I suppose if I did play the role,” Lorraine said, thinking as she spoke, “I could keep an eye on him … and Rachel, I mean, make sure things stay on track and everybody’s, y’know, kosher.”

  “Kosher.”

  “Yeah, kosher. I do most of my work for the department at home anyway. Two meetings in Albany won’t interrupt the rehearsal schedule much.”

  Griffin smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you,” was all he said and all he needed to say, except, “I love you so much, my beautiful wife.”

  Lorraine smiled, but it faded long before she fell asleep.

  Chapter 2

  The Capitol building in Albany had a gothic air, four stories of cathedral-style windows, grey stone under a blue shingled roof. Like a lot of Albany, it shared Manhattan’s sense of grandeur and mystique, without sharing its almost suffocating traffic and congestion. The early spring sky was bluer, cleaner, filling Lorraine’s lungs, tickling the back of her nostrils with the smells of her college years in Denver; oleander and poplar, a heady and rustic scent.

  Casper Newkirk leaned back in his leather chair at the head of the long conference table, shaking his head as he dropped a manilla folder onto the table in front of him. With his round, white head and heavy set torso, he looked to Lorraine like a balding egg in a suit, Humpty Dumpty come to life. Lorraine and the rest of the members of the staff looked on in tense silence. Everybody knew what was on the agenda, and which way the decision was going to go.

  “We’re down for another straight quarter,” he said, his voice surprisingly high in pitch, almost womanly, despite his big body and swollen throat. “Test scores throughout the state are down by … what is it? Seven percent.”

  A sad silence took over the table, Lorraine glancing at the quiet men and women in the room, all of them sharing one thing Lorraine did not share. They needed to keep their jobs, and that ensured their silence.

  Treena Torasco looked at their boss Casper, but her eyes kept shooting across the table at Lorraine, as they often seemed to do. She didn’t know precisely what Treena’s problem was, but she knew it could be one of any number of things.

  Lorraine glanced back at Treena, who turned away immediately and kept her eyes on Casper.

  He shrugged his hunched shoulders. “I just don’t see that we have much of a choice. We gotta take it outta the staffing.”

  Lorraine said, “Casper, if I may … ” Casper turned to Lorraine with a fake smile and crooked eyebrows, but he did not disallow her from speaking. Lorraine went on, “If we keep firing teachers, how are the kids’ scores going to go up?”

  “Luckily, Mrs. Phoenix, we’ve got your PEEC project learning center, and it’s not really having the kind of positive effects we’d all hoped for.”

  One corner of Lorraine’s mouth curved up, digging into her cheek. “We only have one in New York, in Harlem, and I think you’ll find grades are up in that area, while truancy and crime among minors is down. They’ve had great results in other cities, too; Denver, Los Angeles, Seattle — ”

  “I didn't mean to insult you,” Casper said. “But this isn’t really about your learning centers.”

  “Then why did you bring them up?” The table fell silent, and Lorraine could sense the fear in the eyes of the others department heads. “How much more cutting can you do to the faculties in our schools? Music and arts are long gone. And we all know you’re not going to cut the sports teams — ”

  “Of course not,” Casper said, some of the others chuckling into their hands, Treena included. “You know very well that the entire pro ball industry relies on the public high schools. Without them, there would be no college ball, and then no pro ball either. We’re talking about billions of dollars, countless people all over the country whose lives rely upon that industry.”

  “Okay, I get that — ”

  “Not to mention the kids. Your learning centers are fine and dandy, but pro ball is the only way a lot of these kids are going to get out of the ghettos.”

  Lorraine felt her eyes flash angrily, focusing on keeping a calm, professional tone. “That’s where you’re wrong, Casper. First of all, only a tiny fraction of kids who play high school ball go on to college or pro leagues, between one and seven percent! What kind of success rate is that? We’re preparing almost one-hundred percent of those kids for abject failure and degradation, not to mention a lifetime of unemployment, plus brain damage, spinal injury … ”

  “It’s not just pro careers, but the educations they get. College athletes get scholarships — ”

  “Casper, those educations are worthless and you know it, and they’re fake! Those kids graduate without any of the skills they supposedly studied, and no skills to get them through life.” Lorraine asserted. A long and tense sile
nce passed. Casper shrugged exasperated. “We can’t just reinvent the whole system.”

  Lorraine gave it some thought, Treena staring at her and then shaking her head in disapproval. “Okay,” Lorraine said, “we need high school football players, that’s fine. Do we need cheerleaders and a marching band? Not that I want to cut music, but … better that than firing all the English teachers and just plopping some nothing-to-do football coach behind the desk reading Sports Illustrated while the kids are struggling through The Great Gatsby. Casper, we’re graduating kids who can’t find Russia on the map. Some of them can’t find the state they live in!”

  “Missus Phoenix,” Casper hollered, his thin voice cracking with his gathering rage, “that will be quite enough! I want ten percent of the faculty cut from the budget in one week. In fact, Mrs. Phoenix, perhaps this is a project you’d like to take on personally.”

  Lorraine leaned back in near disbelief. “You want me to review the faculty and staff of every public school in the state … and decide who to fire? That’ll take more than a week.”

  “Miss Torasco will work with you,” he said. “Take two weeks and split the files. You can work from home, as usual. Confer with each other on the candidates and then bring them to me. I’ll make the final choices myself.”

  Lorraine sat there with a cold chill running down her spine, hairs standing up on the back of her neck.

  Jeremy Bush Le Deux sat on the living room floor of the Phoenix’s Fifth Avenue penthouse apartment, big and airy and spacious. His brown hair was getting longer, in contrast to both Lorraine and Kayla’s short red hair.

  Kayla was surrounded by toy horses and unicorns and they had her full attention. But, Jeremy was more interested in talking about Lorraine’s struggles with the Education Department.

  “What’re you gonna do, Lo’?” he asked sympathetically.

  Lorraine sighed, shaking her head. “I dunno. I have to be the one to decide who gets fired, or even which candidates get chopped.”

  “Shoulda’ kept your head down,” Jeremy lectured, “kept quiet.”

  “I don’t do that anymore,” Lorraine said. “That’s the old me.”

  “I know, I know. And I’m glad for everything your risks have brought you, Lo’. And what they’ve brought me, too! Without you and Griffin, I wouldn’t have this great job, probably wouldn’t have any job at all … never mind Anton. How would I ever have gotten to Jamaica if it weren’t for your generosity?”

  “You took your own risks, Jer, and you deserve your own rewards. But those teachers deserve theirs, too.”

  After a moment, Jeremy considered, “Are you sure it’s about that, and not … y’know … ”

  “No, I don’t know.”

  Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s part of this whole thing you’re doing now, the whole rebel thing.”

  “The whole rebel thing? Jeremy, I’m not some teenager going through a phase!”

  They shared a little chuckle, but it didn’t last. “No, but you have become … willful, let’s say. With the library rally, your learning centers, maybe it’s just becoming kind of a reflex, y’know? Buck the system, all that.” Lorraine didn’t have to give that very much thought, but she remained politely quiet. Jeremy went on, “Also, well, there’s the librarian schtick, too.”

  “Schtick? Jeremy, I’m not just playing games here. I want to help these kids, and they need help! We all need for them to get it, too, or we’ll have nothing but a world of bonehead jocks and burnt out ex-high school cheerleaders.”

  “You see? There you go. Lorraine, I know you love books and things, the library, and that’s great. But, it’s pretty clear that you don’t care much for jocks, and that’s okay, too. Hey, when I was in high school I was a musical theater nerd, so I totally get it.” he explained.

  “No, Jeremy, I don’t have any grudge against the football teams, I just don’t think it’s fair to the other kids, and it’s not efficient or beneficial to the kids or to our society.”

  “Okay, okay,” Jeremy said, “as long as you know what you’re doing … and why.”

  “Well, I do know why … but the what has still got me. I can’t just go along with their agenda. I can’t … and I won’t.”

  “Then what will you do?” Jeremy probed.

  Lorraine’s brain began to pound with the effort to pull up an easy solution, an effective plan of attack. But she could only think of one.

  Gotta talk to Griffin.

  Chapter 3

  Lorraine visited Griffin in his Phoenix Enterprises office, a genuine Picasso hanging on the wall, a portrait of a solemn old woman from the famous blue period. A cocktail cart sat next to the window which overlooked the expansive Central Park, where there was so much natural beauty. But, Lorraine could hardly enjoy that million-dollar view for the sad and frightening memories it brought back.

  She could still hear the gunshots ringing through the park, people screaming and running for their lives. It was an echo of the Denver shooting only bigger, louder, even more deadly.

  Griffin asked her, “What’s your plan?”

  “That’s the problem, I don’t have one. I’m not sure I’d know where to begin, to tell you the truth. I guess I have to do my job, and that’s to be obedient and go ahead and line up ten percent of those teachers for the chopping block. But Grif, I just hate to do it. It’s not fair and it’s not what’s best for the kids, the schools, the community, the nation … it’s just wrong every way I look at it.”

  Griffin scratched his chin and paced around his office. “The problem is lack of money?”

  “Griffin, we’re not donating any more money to the public schools, it just disappears — ”

  Griffin nodded with a smile which had no joy. “Oh, you’re preaching to the choir on that one, my pretty young lass.” Lorraine smiled and Griffin kept pacing. “What I’m saying is, if there’s a lack of funds coming in, the answer may not be how to parcel out the remaining funds, but to find a new source, new funds, fill up the coffers.”

  Lorraine gave that some thought, turning away to stare at the color-splattered screen of her own fluid imagination. “Any ideas?”

  Griffin leaned in and gave Lorraine a loving little kiss on the temple. “I’ll bet you’ll find that the answer is right in front of you. Just open your eyes to the possibilities, Lorraine, see beyond the world that is … to the world that could be.”

  Lorraine walked into the auditorium of Ashe’s private school, Montego Prep. Ashe was on the stage with a script in his hand, several other teenagers around him. Three boys and a girl stood with him on stage, a man in his twenties sitting at the nearby spinet piano.

  Ashe instructed, “Okay, Rachel, I want you to cross over to stage right before your song, away from the other three. You’re the voice of reason, the conscience of the group, so I want to keep as much distance between you and them as possible during your song.”

  Their voices echoed from the stage, loud in the vacuous room.

  “Ashe, hi.” Lorraine smiled.

  “Mom! Everybody, this is my mom, Lorraine Phoenix.” The teens nodded politely. “Mom, this is John, Mike, Paul, and you’ve met Rachel.”

  Pretty Rachel Arnault nodded with a demure smile, black hair and blue eyes giving her an exotic attractiveness made even more potent by the girl’s obvious talent.

  “I’ve heard the demos of your songs, Rachel, they’re amazing. You’ve got a real future ahead of you.” Ashe commended.

  “That’s sweet of you to share with me,” Rachel said.

  “I’m not just being sweet, it’s true.” he smiled.

  “Still, it’s sweet of you to share it.” Rachel blushed.

  A gentle moment rose on the stage, the other actors rolling their eyes while Ashe and Rachel shared a tender glance.

  Finally, Lorraine cleared her throat to say, “So, what do we do first?”

  Ashe glanced around. “Okay, let’s do the scene before the mom leaves the house. We haven’t got our set, but le
t me just walk you through the blocking.”

  The younger actors stepped off the stage as Lorraine took her place and followed Ashe’s instructions. Lorraine was obedient and dutiful, pantomiming looking for her car keys, the shopping list, performing the phone call that the script required. Lorraine knew that she wasn't a good actress, her performance wasn’t stage-worthy, yet. But, Ashe instilled in her a sense of confidence, of readiness to try and to fail and then to try again. If he's willing to do all this, Lorraine knew, risk his reputation, and at his young age, here at a place he won’t be able to just walk away from if it goes bad; if he can do it, I can.

  Lorraine couldn't help but notice Rachel gazing lovingly at Ashe, so impressed with his sense of control, power, even at his young age. She also recognized that admiring gaze in Griffin when he looked at her, his wife of three years now. Lorraine knew she’d earned it every bit as much as Ashe was earning it then. She knew that Ashe had learned from her example, that she had been instrumental in putting him on that stage, in a place and position where he could really blossom and flourish. And it seemed to her that he was doing just that, talking her through the stage blocking, patiently discussing the character’s inner world, her motivations.

  Even though Ashe was recreating the day his birth mother was tragically killed, he didn’t let the sorrow show. There was one brief moment when he paused during his stage notes, when they were analyzing the mom’s decision to leave the house, which she almost didn’t do, at least in the script. That fateful moment registered with young Ashe, it was undeniable. But, he had written it and was committed to bringing it to life.

  And Lorraine was committed to helping him any way she could.

  The first thing Lorraine noticed was that her mother, Sally Devonshire, wasn’t holding her usual martini glass. And instead of her usual, dusty, once-fashionable clothes, she was wearing a green track suit.

  Larry Devonshire wore a matching suit, but in blue. It’s funny, Lorraine couldn’t help but think, even when they’re on the same page, they clash.

 

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