Coming to Rosemont

by Barbara Hinske

  “Some auto parts emergency. No doubt he’s finishing up—in fact, that’s him coming down the hall now.”

  “So sorry to keep you waiting, my dear,” Isaac said as he entered the room. Maggie’s spine stiffened at his patronizing tone. This time, she didn’t get up. Isaac turned to Haynes. “Hello, Frank.” He clumsily made his way to the chair behind the desk.

  Maggie remained silent and looked pointedly at each man in turn.

  Isaac cleared his throat. “I was sincere when I told you a few weeks ago that I still represent you and want to know what your concerns and issues are.” He paused and waited expectantly for her to respond.

  Maggie simply smiled and shrugged. “You’ve heard our platform; you should be very familiar with our issues by now.”

  “Well, yes, on the surface. We wanted to invite you here to share your concerns with us in depth.”

  “Why thank you,” Maggie replied sweetly, “but I really don’t have anything to add. Maybe you can tell me what you intend to do about the rampant financial mismanagement that’s occurred on your watch?”

  Isaac scowled and began turning his wedding ring around on his finger. He’s at a loss for words, Maggie realized with satisfaction.

  Haynes interjected. “That’s all part of an ongoing criminal investigation. We really can’t formulate any plans until that’s completed,” he stated calmly. “But we have another, more important reason for inviting you here today.” He looked at Isaac, who gestured for Haynes to continue.

  “Your commitment to the community and knowledge of the issues have not gone unnoticed. We’re all quite impressed with you.” He paused and Isaac nodded in agreement. “When Russell is elected mayor—”

  “If he’s elected mayor,” Maggie interjected.

  Haynes struggled to conceal his irritation as he continued. “We’d like to appoint you to fill his council seat. You’d be a great asset to this town.”

  A hardness set in around Maggie’s eyes. These pompous fools thought she would be so flattered that she would jump at their offer—would leave Alex and his campaign in the dust. Probably because that’s what they would do in the same situation, she surmised.

  She leaned forward in her chair and paused until Isaac quit fiddling with his ring and Haynes was staring at her. “Hear this, gentlemen. Under no circumstances would I entertain such an offer. I am not a politician and don’t aspire to political office. And more importantly, your bringing me in here now and making this offer is most inappropriate. You’re trying to bribe me to leave Alex’s campaign. That’s despicable.”

  Isaac’s face reddened and his nostrils flared. “Watch yourself,” he sputtered. Before he could continue, Haynes interrupted. “That’s not what we meant, Maggie. You misunderstood. You can continue to work on Alex’s campaign if that’s what you want to do. We just hope you will consider joining us on the town council if Russell’s spot opens up. That’s all we meant. Don’t go misconstruing this.”

  “I know what you intended.” She straightened her shoulders and rose deliberately, turning to face them. My refusal has caught them completely off guard, she realized. Sensing an advantage, she pressed on. “While I’m here, why don’t we schedule that candidate’s debate we’ve been requesting? I really don’t think you can refuse me now.” Maggie fixed them with a steely stare.

  “Of course. We’ve been meaning to get back to you; we’ve had trouble finding a venue.” Haynes’ tone was conciliatory.

  “I’ve reserved Haynes Gymnasium for the Thursday night before the election,” Maggie replied, and was pleased to note the tick by Haynes’ right eye. “We’re set; I’ll alert the press. See you both then.”

  ***

  Frank Haynes pulled into the lot behind the liquor store and got wearily out of his car. God, he was sick of these meetings in the middle of the night. When this is over, I’ll never get involved with these bottom-feeders again. If this is ever over. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He knew it would do no good to unleash his fury on this drunken fool. He waited for the familiar buzz, mounted the steps, and slowly entered Delgado’s office.

  “How ya doin’, Frankie boy?” Delgado slurred.

  “I’m in better shape than you are, Chuck. That’s obvious.”

  “Depends on your point of view, there, Frankie. Have a drink,” he said as he slid the open bottle across the desk toward Haynes. “Do you good to lighten up.”

  “I’m not feeling too lighthearted these days. Neither should you. Did Isaac tell you about the mess he made trying to offer that Martin bitch his council seat if he wins?”

  “He said she didn’t want it, yeah. That broad’s not important. Quit getting yourself all bunched up over her. We’re still going to win the election.”

  “How do you figure that? Scanlon’s got all the momentum. If Isaac doesn’t clean up at the debate, we’re finished. Of all the people we don’t want as mayor, Scanlon is at the top of the list.”

  “The debate won’t matter much, Frankie. I’ve got plans for Scanlon if it goes bad. We’re all set.”

  “Like the fires? Some cockamamie plan like that?” Haynes spat. His jaw tightened and he clenched his right fist. “What is wrong with you guys? We’re all under the microscope here. There’s no room for error. Not anymore.”

  “Know what your problem is, Frankie? You got no balls. Get the hell outta here and let me get back to work,” Delgado said as he reached for his bottle.

  “Don’t screw this up, Delgado. I’m warning you,” Haynes seethed. He tripped and caught himself, cursing, as he stormed down the stairs.

  ***

  When set up theater-style, Haynes Gymnasium held six hundred. Reporters from papers all over the state were present, as were two television crews. The scandal of the mayor’s resignation in the wake of his corruption indictment focused more attention on the election of this small-town mayor than would normally be warranted. The gym was filled to capacity thirty minutes before the scheduled start of the debate.

  Alex and Maggie arrived an hour early and were rehearsing in the locker room, going over talking points and anticipating questions. Neither one wanted to acknowledge it, but they were both anxious and a bit scared. The moderator was the head librarian, a good choice. He was a distinguished-looking man in his sixties who had held that post longer than anyone could remember and had probably shushed every person in attendance at one time or another for talking in the Westbury Library. He would keep control of the crowd and would make both candidates observe the time limits and stick to the rules. The list of questions had been prepared by the local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution.

  Maggie was adjusting Alex’s tie for the umpteenth time when they got the call to enter the gym. She leaned in and whispered, “You are perfectly prepared. I believe in you completely. Just stay on message, no matter what Isaac says or does,” she admonished sternly. They stepped through the double doors by the stage and into the gaudy light of the gymnasium.

  It took a few minutes for the crowd to realize that the candidates were on stage and it was time to start. Maggie fought her way to the seat that John and Marc had saved for her in the front row. The moderator called for quiet, led the crowd in the Pledge of Allegiance, and introduced both candidates. He outlined the rules of the debate and started off by directing the first question to Isaac.

  It was clear that Isaac was well prepared. Gone was the awkward bumbler who had accepted the post of acting mayor only a few short weeks ago. He was expensively dressed and well groomed. His style was self-deprecating and charming. He’s got charisma, Maggie hated to admit. His themes were to distance himself from Wheeler, stress his experience on the council, and his success as a businessman. He elicited the occasional laugh and polite applause.

  Alex’s first answer was overly complicated. The crowd grew bored and inattentive. He’s getting lost in the minutia, Maggie thought. He sought out Maggie in the crowd when he finished his first answer, which had been greeted with te
pid applause. In exaggerated fashion, she mouthed the words “too much detail.” He nodded his head in recognition.

  As the evening progressed, Alex picked up steam. He simplified his answers and was bolstered by the growing enthusiasm of the crowd’s response. Isaac, in contrast, was losing ground. The initial appeal of his mannerisms and message was growing stale.

  When the last question had been answered and the candidates shook hands to signal the end of the debate, it was apparent that the audience favored Alex by a wide margin. He was inundated by people swarming to the front to shake his hand. Other than a few followers in attendance, no one bothered to approach Isaac. Maggie thought that he looked dumbstruck by this turn of events. “He hasn’t taken Alex seriously at all,” Maggie observed to John. “Look at him. He’s a deer in the headlights. I don’t think it ever dawned on him until now that he could lose this election.”

  Maggie and John hung back until the last well-wisher departed. Marc was clapping Alex on the back and enthusing about every aspect of his performance as Maggie sidled over to them. Alex smiled wide enough to turn himself inside out. He swept her into a hug that lifted her off her feet. John pumped his hand, “You nailed it. Well done.”

  “Did you get a look at Isaac? He must feel like he’s been run over by a steamroller. He didn’t expect this in a million years.” Marc laughed.

  “Tonight was a nice moment, I’ll have to admit. A high point. I knew I got off to a bad start, by the way. Thanks for the coaching,” he nodded at Maggie. “We’ll see how this turns out on Tuesday. We’re almost there. I’m encouraged. I’ve been pretty exhausted, but this was like pouring jet fuel on me. I’m ready to keep going.”

  “Me too. Exactly how I feel,” Maggie replied.

  They ambled out to the deserted parking lot, reluctant to leave the scene of their success. “Marc and I need to stop by my office on the way home to sign paperwork for the insurance company. It’ll only take a minute, if you don’t mind waiting,” he said. Before Maggie could answer, John offered to take her home, and she readily accepted.

  ***

  They were following Marc and Alex on the two-lane road through the woods back into town when it happened. A log obstructed the road just as it curved to the left. If it hadn’t been such a dark night and if they had been driving slower, they might have been able to avoid it. As it was, they barely had time to apply the brakes before the devastating impact. The vehicle skidded, impacted the log full on, and rolled over twice before coming to a stop on the far side of the road.

  Maggie and John were only seconds behind. They heard the terrible crash before they came upon it. Maggie had her cell phone out and was dialing 9-1-1 as John screeched to a stop next to the vehicle. He slammed his car into park and flew out the door, shouting to Maggie to get his flashlight out of the glove box.

  Alex’s door was jammed shut but John managed to pry the rear passenger door open. Maggie shined the flashlight into the vehicle and fear pierced her like an ax. Blood was splattered everywhere. Both men had been wearing seat belts and the air bags had deployed.

  Alex began to moan softly. He had a large gash over one eye and his nose was strangely angled to the right. Marc started to come to. He began to flail agitatedly at his seat belt, and John reached over the backseat to restrain him, telling him that he had been in an accident and help was on the way. Why on earth are they taking so long? Maggie thought.

  John concentrated on keeping Marc calm. Alex never stirred, but his breathing was regular. After what seemed like an eternity, they heard the siren of the approaching ambulance. Maggie stepped away as the EMTs took over. John climbed out of the backseat and joined her. They watched in anxious silence as Marc was quickly placed on a stretcher and taken away. A second ambulance arrived and waited, lights flashing in the otherwise still night, while the paramedics labored to extricate Alex from the vehicle.

  A police cruiser pulled up next and a uniformed officer spoke to one of the paramedics, who pointed to Maggie and John. The officer exchanged a few more words with the paramedic and joined them at the side of the road. “I’m Officer Jackson. Did you see the accident?”

  “No,” John replied. “We were following them and came on the scene maybe twenty seconds afterwards. We heard the crash.”

  “Which direction were you heading?”

  “North. Both cars were heading north. The driver, Alex Scanlon, is the mayoral candidate. Maggie is his campaign manager. We were all returning home from the candidate’s debate at the gym earlier this evening.”

  “Did you see any other vehicles in the vicinity?” John shook his head.

  “Any people hanging around? Watching? Anyone else offer to help that isn’t here now?”

  “No. No one.”

  “Any idea where that log came from?”

  “None. That’s what we were wondering. How in the world did that log get in the middle of the road?”

  Officer Jackson shook his head. They turned as the paramedics removed Alex, now wearing a neck brace, from the vehicle.

  Maggie watched as they strapped him onto a gurney. “Can I go with him? Will they let me ride to the hospital with him?”

  “I’ll find out for you,” the officer said. “At the very least, we can find out where they’re taking him.”

  The paramedics refused Maggie’s request but said that Alex was stable and they were taking him to Westbury Memorial Hospital. As the ambulance started its siren and sped off, Officer Jackson took down their contact information and waved them off in the direction of the hospital.

  ***

  Maggie scrolled through her contact list and called, one after the other, Tonya, Sam, Beth, Pete, and Tim. By the time they parked and got into the emergency room waiting area, they were told that Marc was in stable condition and had been admitted for a broken collarbone and wrist and that Alex was in X-ray. They got cups of coffee from a vending machine, more for something to do than with any desire for coffee. They were alternately pacing and nursing their drinks when Sam and Joan came through the automatic doors, with Tim on their heels.

  “Oh my God,” Joan cried. “I can’t believe this. How are they?”

  Maggie brought them up to speed with what little information she had. Tonya joined them as a nurse approached the group. “We’ve got a small private waiting room for families. I’m going to put you in there. You’ll be more comfortable. They’ve just taken Alex to surgery.”

  “What are they operating on?” John asked.

  “The surgeon will talk to you as soon as she’s done. That’s all I can tell you for now.”

  “Can anyone go see Marc, the other man in the crash? He’s been admitted. Someone should be with him,” Maggie said.

  “I think that’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll find out what room he’s in for you.”

  By the time the nurse got back to them, Pete had arrived and they decided that he should stay with Marc. They would call him on his cell phone as soon as they heard anything about Alex. Two and a half endless hours later a tired-looking woman in surgical dress introduced herself as Dr. Mertz.

  “You’re Alex Scanlon’s family and friends?” They all nodded. “He’s suffered traumatic injuries to his pelvis and fractured bones in both legs. He has three cracked ribs and a broken nose. And he suffered a deep cut over his right eye. But none of his internal organs were compromised and his vital signs are stable. We operated to replace his hip and inserted pins in both of his legs. We stitched his cut and realigned his nose. The ribs will heal on their own. He’s in recovery and hasn’t regained consciousness. We’ll keep him heavily sedated for the next day or two. He may need additional surgeries and will certainly require months of physical therapy, but he’s young and healthy and we expect him to make a full recovery. He’s been very fortunate.”

  The group let out a collective sigh. “Can we see him?” Joan asked.

  “No,” the doctor replied. “He’s resting comfortably, and we’ll keep him in ICU tonight and at least a
ll day tomorrow. One or two of you can see him then. He won’t be up to visits from all of you. The most helpful thing you can do for him now is go home and get some sleep.”

  The relieved and exhausted group relayed the news to Pete and, left with no other choice, headed home to salvage as much sleep from the remainder of the night as possible. John asked Maggie if she was afraid to stay at Rosemont by herself. “If you want company, I’m happy to sleep on the sofa. Tonight isn’t the romantic evening I have planned for us,” he said with a rueful smile. Maggie assured him that was not necessary and she would be fine, but that was a lie. She was deeply disturbed by what she had seen in that car and by the implications for Alex and, frankly, all of them. It was obvious to her that he would not be physically capable of serving as mayor for months, or possibly years. And she was convinced that the sudden appearance of the log had a sinister explanation. Like the fires.

  ***

  Maggie dozed intermittently until she couldn’t force herself to stay in bed any longer. She got up, tended to Eve, quickly showered and dressed, and was back at the hospital by six thirty. She wanted to catch the doctors on their morning rounds. Alex lay still and flat in his shadowy room, lit only by the monitors he was hooked up to. He looked peaceful and the lines squiggling across the monitors were all consistent and steady. She pulled up a chair and took one of his hands. She thought he tried to squeeze hers but couldn’t be sure.

  Maggie spent the day at the hospital, talking to doctors and nurses, and forwarding information to Marc. She called Susan, who had been shocked and disturbed by the news. Maggie insisted she didn’t need to take emergency leave to come out, but if she could schedule a trip over a long weekend, that would be helpful. The doctors reduced Alex’s narcotic IV in midafternoon, and by four o’clock he came around. He recognized Maggie, asked about Marc, and whispered that he was in pain. The nurse restored his IV to prior levels, and he floated back to dreamland.

  Maggie, exhausted from the day of leafing through magazines she couldn’t focus on and trying to eat food she had no appetite for, headed home. She intended to turn on the TV and check her email. She fed Eve and sat down for just a minute to collect her thoughts. She leaned back in the library chair that had become her refuge since that first night at Rosemont. The next time she looked at her watch, it was two in the morning. She fought the urge to go right back to sleep where she was and forced herself upstairs and into bed.