I got quite a few “amens” on that one from the other parties in the dining facility.
“George, let’s go,” the elderly gentleman said to his quiet friend.
They both rose, and the gentleman who had yet to add anything to this basically one-sided conversation stood. He looked at the yap-per and said,“Peter, you may be a wonderful doctor . You may even be a gifted surgeon . You may have the knowledge of the latest innovations in the medical field. But you have not been nor will you ever be a ‘savior’ to anyone . That is one thing you should never forget.”
The two left, and the irate man in front of me could have procured the role of Michael Douglas’s character in Falling Down II. But I didn’t wait to watch. I went back to my table and made Paige pick up where she left off, at the beginning.
“That was good,” she said, finishing off the last of my milkshake. Even Helen hadn’t noticed that Paige had consumed my shake, until she turned around, because she, too, had been frozen beside our table during the exchange . When she did realize Paige’s ungrateful behavior, she slapped her on the back of the head with her dirty towel.
“Gross.”
“You deserved that.”And away Helen went to prepare another.
“Okay. I’m a desperate woman; now talk.”
For the next twenty minutes we ate, and Paige laid out one of the best plans I had heard in a while . Well, actually the only plan. It was subtle but effective, and it would take place tomorrow night. As we walked up the street to our cars,we finalized the details.“So can you get all of that done before seven o’clock tomorrow night?”
“I think. Dad closes the store down at five and he’ll be with Mom by six, so that should give me plenty of time. But let’s do seven thirty to play it safe.”
She scanned my attire and her eyes rested on my skirt.“Okay, seven thirty it is. But you need to come without grease stains.”
“You’re funny. Seven thirty, and I’ll look fabulous.”
She headed back to her studio, and I longed for five minutes to run into my house and change, but I was still behaving like a good little new employee. Set a good example. Get there on time.
Don’t overdo lunch. And avoid the boss at all cost.
“Mr. Hicks wants to see you in his office.” The grating voice of his assistant came over my phone no sooner than my purse hit my desk.
“Okay. I’ll be right there.” My first attempts to learn my way around the building were met with a few detours through broom closets and men’s lavatories, but my confidence was building . This trip was successful. Unfortunately, the welcoming committee wasn’t all too welcoming. In fact, all Jessica did was snarl and remind me of a four-legged hairy creature that had taken to sleeping on sidewalks.
She hated me all because I was the daughter of Victoria Phillips, who also happened to be the woman trying to force Jessica’s family into getting rid of the enormous satellite that resides in their backyard and can be seen from three different streets. Or so Vicky says.
“Savannah, come in and have a seat,”Mr. Hicks’s gruff voice summoned me from the other side of his glass window. “Close the door.”
He seemed exceedingly irritated . The fact that I was on a four-week probation period meant it wasn’t in my best interest to attract attention. But as he held up a stack of papers and flopped them back down on his desk, I was overcome by the sense that his irritation was all about me. “Savannah . . .” He paused, eying my tainted appearance. He simply shook his head and made his way to the edge of his desk. As he sat, the desk moaned and his tummy came to rest, albeit after a few bounces, over his belt. His suspenders did the rest of the work.“Savannah, papers on the whole try to remain fair and impartial.”
I eyed him carefully, thinking few newspapers I had ever read in this world were capable of such a feat.“We do have columns, however, that reflect definite opinion. But for a human-interest writer, it’s best to capture the sides of human interest without defining your own personal parameters quite so clearly.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about sir.”
He held up the cover of yesterday’s paper. “This is what I’m talking about.”
“But you wouldn’t have known it was me, if someone hadn’t put my name in there.”
“Well, Miss Victoria Phillips’s daughter”—he waved the stack of papers in front of my face—“these are e-mails incensed about your presence there.”
“Well, who approved my name in the caption?” I asked. “Apparently someone wants me to fail, wouldn’t you think? Or at least portray this as something it’s not . You are the editor, are you not?” I tried to remain as respectful as possible even though my face was flushed with anger.
“Yes, I did approve it. Because it happens to be one of the biggest news stories we’ve had in a while.” He also tried to stay calm.“So you don’t adamantly support your mother’s position?”
“My mother’s position is that of a woman standing on a sidewalk chained to a slab of concrete . Would you support that position? No, I support the position of feather beds and duvets.”
He crossed his arms and stared at me. “Savannah, you know what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, sir, I do. But my mother was hugging me because I told her President Bush was coming to town . The people who wrote those e-mails have done nothing more than derive opinions from false assumptions. But frankly, I’ve had to deal with that since I got here.”
“Well, I just felt you needed to know what was going on.”He moved back to his squeaky leather chair, which immediately propelled him backward.
“I’m doing the best I can. I don’t know why people care what I do anyway.”
“Savannah, people need a winner and loser; they don’t like draws. And if they don’t agree with the outcome, they need someone to blame. If you don’t want to be blamed, don’t put yourself in a place of opinion.”
“That’s kind of hard with what I do.”
“But not impossible . You tell the story. Let others form the opinion. And believe it or not, it is possible to do that while having a clearly defined opinion yourself.” He winked. “You’re a writer, Savannah . Tell the people a story. Make the moment real. Make the people real. And then make the revelation real . You’ll have an opinion. And it will be clear. But what matters is the journey people take in order to get to theirs.”
I’m not sure I had one clue this side of Saluda what he was talking about. But at the rapid rate things were declining around me, it came as no real surprise. I stood up to leave.“Am I getting fired?”
His belly bounced with his chuckle.“No,Miss Savannah, you are getting educated.”
His secretary had disappeared. I wasn’t surprised. Truth be known, she had taken my picture and turned it in herself . Truth be known. I didn’t care . Truth be known . That was a lie.
CHAPTER TWENTY
If that had been the e-mail, Lord be with the mailman. I tried to keep my mind busy. I ordered my notes and decided to focus on the great debate and clearly portray both sides. Fairness and balance would hopefully silence my critics.
Curly Locks left me alone. Either he was too busy to bother me, or he didn’t want to associate with Savannah’s newest source of disheveled contention.
I picked up on one of Vicky’s calls by mistake. She had resorted to calling from someone else’s phone. She was good.
“Honey, do you want to have dinner with us tonight? It’s like having a dinner party with strangers . You’ll love it. This has been the most fun I’ve had in years. And if it weren’t for the noise of the protesters it’d actually be peaceful.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. But actually, well, I, I really have to work on my story. It’s due tomorrow at two and I’m still putting it together.”
“Are you sure you don’t need to interview me?”
I had to be quick with this one.“Well, no, not for Wednesday. Maybe I’ll need some comments for Friday’s story.”
“
Well, you know your mother always wants to see you. And I think there are a couple new people coming to spend the night tonight. So, it could be fun. At least come by and see me if you don’t stay.”
“Well, I’ll have to see. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“You can’t work all the time, Savannah,” she said in a Southern drawl that was drawn-out even for her. Miss Working Twenty-Four/Seven.
“Who is taking care of your job?” I asked, trying not to sound catty.
“Honey, I’m in control of my job. Ran me an extension cord into the courthouse and plugged in my cell-phone charger . Your father brought my laptop, and I’m a working machine. If that little diva from Atlanta would leave me alone, I might get more work done.”
“You’ve talked with her today?”
“Oh, she has something to say to me every day. Most of the time she does it all nice and syrupy.”The mere mention of syrup caused me to lick my lips. “She tries to act like Ms. Perfect. But she’s perfectly evil I tell ya.”
I couldn’t picture such a refined woman speaking evil things to a woman attached to a monument in the middle of a city . The heat was getting to her.“Well, I’ve got to run. I’m getting buzzed by Marla.”
She ended her performance in a perfect pout.“I love you, darling. Come see Mother soon, okay?”
“Bye, mother.” I clicked over right before Marla gave up. Her own Southern drawl came over the phone.“Savannah, I have some messages up here for you.”
I wasn’t sure why we didn’t have voice mail around here, but with Styrofoam walls, who was surprised? “Be there in a minute.”
Upon arrival she handed me a stack of pink slips.
“All of these in a half an hour? Please tell me they’re from the beauty queen.”
“Wish I could, but most are from not-too-happy Savannians. But don’t worry, honey . They’ll get over it . They always do.”
As I started to the back, I noticed a little odd-looking doll-like creature Marla had sitting on her desk.“What’s that?”
“Oh, this?” She picked up the odd-looking creature. “This is my good-luck charm. I got it on my thirteenth birthday and have had good luck ever since. It helped me win ten thousand dollars on The Pyramid; then I won the showcase showdown on The Price Is Right, and the biggest thing it has done is got me in the audience at Oprah’s ‘Favorite Things’ Christmas show.”
“No way! That show is like the bomb! People try anything to get in the audience of that show. How in the world did you accomplish that?”
“Saved up for a whole year to go see Tom Cruise on her show, and then she surprised us when we got there. And I wasn’t even disappointed.”
“I’d say not. Sounds like you need to hang on to that little thing.”
“If it weren’t for this thing, I wouldn’t have had any of that happen.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but you at least have some great stories to tell. Did you meet Donny Osmond?” I asked, trying to hide my secret attraction.
“Yes, honey, I did, and that man is”—she leaned across her desk and whispered—“well, he’s just plumb perfect.”
“He is kind of cute, huh?”
“Ooh, honey, and when he hugged me after I won that ten thousand dollars, I just held on as long as I could without looking suspicious.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. Her innocence and Southern charm were so refreshing.“Have a great night. Thanks for the notes.”
“It’ll die down. There’ll be something more interesting tomorrow.”
“Hope so.”
I stopped off at Jake’s on the way home. Louise and Mervine were already gone for the day. At seventy-five they deserved to leave whenever they wanted to. Richard was heading out to his car when I pulled up behind the store.
“Your dad’s already gone, Savannah.”
“I figured. Just wanted to grab a Coke before I went home.”
“You don’t have any Cokes at your house?”
“We don’t have much of anything left at the house . The milk’s sour, I ate all the leftovers, and we’ve been out of Cokes since Saturday.”
He paused as his dark brown hand grabbed the doorhandle of his new Ford Taurus. He said the dealership gave him an incredible deal, but he really thinks Dad had something to do with it all.“You don’t know how to go to the grocery store, Savannah Phillips?”
“Okay, Richard, that’s enough. Don’t you start in on me too. Yes, I know how to go to the grocery store. It’s the cooking part that has me stumped. Know of any good cleaning ladies that can cook? I’m desperate.”
“Savannah Phillips, your mother would have your hide if you brought someone into her house, let them into her kitchen, and had them changin’ her sheets. Now, you know that would be the undoin’ of all undoin’.”
“They would just be, shall we say, filling in.”
“Child, you ain’t like no other child I’ve ever seen. But there ain’t no way I’m recommendin’ anyone to step into your mama’s kitchen. She ain’t gonna be handcuffed to that thing forever. She will come home one day.”
I laughed.“You’re a chicken.”
He chuckled. “Call me what you will. But stupid I ain’t.” He gave me a wink and climbed in his car.
I walked over to a park bench across from the court-house to eye the day’s activities from a distance and took a long, burning swig of my Coke. The sound of it fizzing inside the cup was like a childhood comfort. And the burning was like a purging of the yuck of the day. I watched as two women came out of the legislative building with their sleeping bags rolled up under their arms . They sat down quietly about a yard in front of my bench and proceeded to establish their accommodations for the evening.
Listening to the low sounds of continuing conversation, it wasn’t hard to gather this city’s opinions, because few people talked about anything else. For all intents and purposes, the world of Savannah had stopped except for right here, on this square. And on the front pages of the Savannah Chronicle, of course.
I peered into the store next to Dad’s shop . Through the window I noticed two kids fighting over what seemed to be a sucker. Their mother leaned down to take it from them. Her again. Emma. Savannah’s rumor mill said that Emma hadn’t been seen on the streets in years without a cigarette hanging out of her mouth or hair that needed scrubbing. But I could see that sister had obviously found the ashtray and the shampoo. Her blond tresses were pulled back into a neat ponytail, and her lips were painted the same soft pink shade as her floral Lilly Pulitzer sundress. I needed to talk with her. I couldn’t avoid her forever. I decided to wait until they came out of the store.
A hand on my shoulder about caused me to jump out of my skin. It was none other than my new park-bench partner in her customary floral attire.“Well, hello, baby . That’s a lot of commotion going on over there, isn’t it?”
“Sure is, Joy.” I so longed to blurt out, Why in the world are you still wearing that same dress? But fear that it may be the only one she owned caused me to refrain.“What have you been doing all day?”
She paused and turned to look at the ceaseless activity by the courthouse sidewalk.“Observing . What about yourself?” She eyed my stained outfit.
I tried to ignore her stares.“Pretty much the same thing. Except I was writing down my observations.”
“You’re a writer, Savannah?”
The mere word writer pricked me. After leaving college and letting go of my dream to become a novelist, the thought of what I had let go of was a tad overwhelming some days.“Well, I guess so. I write for the paper.”
“What kind of writing?”
“Human-interest stories.”
She chuckled, and the flowers across her belly shook. She nodded to the events across the street.“Well, you’ve got your work cut out for you, don’t you, sweet girl?”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
Joy’s attention was diverted for a brief moment to Miss Sally. Miss Sally is a peculiar
creature. She pushes her Yorkie in a baby carriage and walks her canary. I lie not . Would I lie with a monument sitting across the street declaring, “Thou shall not lie”? She actually carries the canary in its cage in one hand and walks it around as if it needs fresh air. I can’t help but be thankful she doesn’t have a cat. Poor thing would have declawed itself by now.
“What is that?” Joy asked, wide-eyed.
“Crazy in the flesh. Ever seen it?”
“Just did.” Then she was back to the things that really mattered. “So, what are you having for dinner tonight?” I wasn’t sure if she thought we would be having dinner together every night, or if this was just the next step in our conversation.
I looked toward the monument, growing increasingly irritated. “I have no idea. I’ve had to eat out a lot lately.”
“Ooh, food issue has Savannah a little testy.”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s just a sore spot with me.”
“Why so, baby?”
“Well, you see that big mass of people over there?” I nodded to the clump surrounding the monument. She turned to look.“Well, hidden behind all those people is a petite fireball who happens to be my mother. And as long as she is strapped to that monument, I’m eating out.”
Joy squinted, trying to find my mother among the masses.“Your mother is strapped to that monument?”
“Chained, is more like it.”
Her expression changed to grave concern.“Oh my . What did she do? Commit a crime?”
I patted her hand and giggled, trying to relieve her of her worry.“No. Sister Vicky committed no crime except that of abandoning her family.”
“She abandoned your entire family?”
“Well, actually, the rest of my family is probably out there right now gathering dinner to take to her. I think they’re just creating a bigger monster.”
“Don’t you call your mother a monster, Savannah. I don’t care what she’s done.”
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