Miracle Man

by Hildy Fox

  His eyes now locked with hers even tighter than before. She hoped that he couldn't see her shaking as the cold and her nerves conspired to give her emotions away. When his hand suddenly came up and stroked her cheek, she couldn't breathe.

  "I don't want to fight with you Lahra. Which is why I think I have a solution that will put all of this behind us."

  Lahra was incredulous at the tenderness and understanding that seemed to emanate from Marcus. He had moved closer to her, and she tilted her head back to maintain contact with his eyes, looking for any trace of guile that might exist. But the sincerity in his manner was unmistakable. Her heart felt twice its normal size beneath her breast as she waited for him to continue. Gathering clouds echoed with thunder over the horizon.

  "I've reviewed the plans for what we were intending to do and I think there's a way," he said tantalisingly.

  "Tell me," she uttered breathlessly.

  "You're right. The building is of significant historical and decorative value. It's imposing and distinctive, which I like. So here it is..."

  Lahra watched him intently, not even noticing that it had begun to rain lightly. She desperately wanted to hear that all this would soon be at an end.

  "I've worked it out, and I'm sure that with a few simple modifications we can keep the façade of the building. It will only add to our budget marginally, but it's nothing I can't wear. We'll restore the front of the building entirely—windows, doors, neon, the whole thing. Then it's simply a matter of reconfiguring there internals and building what we had in mind. And to top it off, we've been looking for a name for the place. I don't see any reason why we can't call it Miracle Amusements."

  Lahra stared at him.

  "What do you think?" he asked, smiling.

  She continued to stare. Right now, she didn't know what else to do. She felt a twinge of stupidity reverberate through her with the thought that she had actually believed Marcus was going to say something she wanted to hear. But it only lasted a second. Now all she could do was stare, as hope drained out of her body and floated away in the river behind her.

  "That’s your idea of negotiation?"

  "It's a strong compromise position. Not set in concrete, but it represents a great departure from our original plans."

  "Marcus, it would be an insult to me for you to go ahead and build your pinball parlour using any of the original building. And the very thought of naming it after the Miracle makes me sick to the core."

  Marcus looked confused, then impatient. "I don't understand. I came in good faith to reach a compromise and you aren't prepared to move an inch."

  "I guess that passion you love so much just won't lay down and die," Lahra seethed, aware that if she stood before him for too much longer the tears she was holding back were in danger of springing into plain view. She wasn't prepared to let him see that. "You know where and when the meeting is tomorrow night. I suggest you be there. The Mayor's coming. And several hundred other people who have been saved the embarrassment of having to listen to what I just heard. I want you to be there to see what happens when people stand up for something more than their own personal gain. Perhaps you'll learn something."

  Marcus’s face had grown darker than the clouds that swirled behind him. Lahra pushed past him and headed for her car, the rain sprinkling her face, as if compensating for the tears she refused to set free.

  She didn't spare Marcus another look as she started her engine and drove away. He had violated her memories of this place. And he had violated her hope. The only hope she had left was that in just over twenty-four hours the town would gather to save the Miracle Cinema. Her only thought now was to go home and prepare a strategy that would once and for all rid herself of the man who seemed to be systematically breaking her heart.

  SIX

  Lahra parked the Jeep in Main Street just up from the Riverbank Town Hall, and paused to look at herself in the rear view mirror. Was it her imagination, or was the strain of the last few days beginning to appear on her face? There were no bags beneath her eyes, no drawn, tired lines. But despite the lack of perceptible physical signs, she couldn't help feeling that the layer of exuberance with which she'd begun her vacation had vanished. And since she'd left Marcus standing by Seahorse Falls yesterday afternoon, a heavy emptiness had begun to replace it.

  Her watch told her it was five thirty, and the gathering darkness outside confirmed it. Dense, grey clouds seemed determined to rob the day of its final light, and the horizon was awash with the haze of oncoming rain. She grabbed her umbrella, climbed out of the car into the freshening breeze, and headed in the direction of the Town Hall. Thunder rumbled somewhere, and she wasn't sure if it was from the storm building above, or the storm building inside her.

  The Riverbank Town Hall was a stately, two story building erected at the turn of the century. As Lahra nervously looked up at it, the exterior lights flicked on, bringing the ornate, white clock tower to life against the blackening sky. Soon, people would be flocking to the meeting hall inside to voice their opinions on the fate of the Miracle Cinema. At least, she hoped they'd be flocking. Although the response on the radio talkback was positive, and petitioning was going well, she couldn't help but wonder. Would people remain as conscientious if they had to leave the warm comfort of their homes and take action in public on a cold, wet night? Try as she might to convince herself otherwise, Lahra feared that maybe it was only she who felt so strongly about the Miracle after all. Maybe the self doubt that lurked behind her would catch her when the Town Hall clock struck seven tonight. Maybe the only person to attend other than her would be Marcus Dean. There to claim his victory.

  She paused out the front of the building long enough to raise her umbrella against the heavy drops that were being thrown around in the wind, but not so long as to let her doubts take root. Then she turned and continued down Main Street. Before the evening's proceedings got underway, there were important things to be done.

  Two blocks of brisk walking later, Lahra entered the Miracle Cinema. The end door had been left open for her, and she locked it behind her once she'd set her umbrella down. Wally had told her to come straight up to the booth when she arrived.

  But something wouldn't let her. She stopped in the centre of the foyer, goosebumps breaking out on her arms. There was a strange, unfamiliar feel in the air that demanded her attention. It took several moments for her to realise what it was.

  The walls were barren of posters and lobby cards. The box office displayed no session information or admission prices. The candy bar stocked no candy. Tonight was the first night that the Miracle Cinema was officially out of business, and no time had been wasted to clear out anything that no longer served a purpose. The office door was wide open, and inside Lahra could see an open filing cabinet bereft of contents, a table clear of papers. The rubbish bins were still filled with last night's empty popcorn boxes and soft drink containers. The cleaner hadn't been in today.

  Lahra's eyes roamed the dimly lit scene detail by ghostly detail. She suddenly realised that if she failed in what she had set out to do, this could be the last time she would ever set foot in the Miracle Cinema. With that thought, she quickly moved to the stairs, climbing two at a time.

  "Wally," she announced as she entered the projection booth.

  Wally sat on a stool by the rewinding table, looking at something he held close to his face. "Hey, Doc. Glad you could make it," he said without looking up.

  The silence up here was double thick. It was so different to the memories that Lahra had of the place, which were so full of life and colour and sound. She hesitated at the door, as if moving forward might cause the whole room to crumble like a house of cards. But she entered, slowly making her way to Wally's side.

  She could see what he was looking at. In his hands and across the tabletop were piles of photographs and yellowed news clippings. Some of them Lahra recognised from being pinned on the walls around the room, the same walls that were now as empty as the popcorn machine do
wnstairs. Others she hadn't seen before.

  "Wow," she said quietly. "That's quite a collection."

  Wally sighed deeply. "Sure is, Doc. Until I started clearing all this out, I didn't realise just how much I'd been stashing away in boxes all these years. That's the trouble with being around for so long. You run out of space."

  Lahra's eyes went to the photograph that Wally had been staring at. It was an old black and white shot of a young couple rock and roll dancing. "That's me and Helen," he said. "Back when my bones would let us do that sort of thing. Once a month they had a dance at the Town Hall, mostly respectable kind of stuff. But then rock and roll hit town. They had the first official Riverbank Rock and Roll dance night on our third wedding anniversary." He stared into the photo, seeing more than Lahra ever would. "We sure had some good times together. Doesn't seem like twenty years since I lost her."

  Lahra put her hand on Wally's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

  "Found one you might like," Wally said suddenly with a raspy voice, sifting through the pictures on the table. He found what he had been looking for and handed it to her. It was a shot of the two of them, pulling the most ridiculous faces into the camera. Lahra must have been about ten years old. She laughed as she looked into their silly, carefree faces.

  "We always had such good fun together."

  "That we did."

  They looked at each other then, smiling. The blank walls seemed to press in on Lahra, and she felt the pressure well within her. Unexpected tears threatened to wrestle away her control, and she instinctively reached out. They held each other in the stillness, watched only by a table full of photographic memories.

  "It's okay, Doc," Wally whispered, his own voice close to breaking. "It'll work itself out. You'll see."

  She wanted to agree. She wanted to reassure Wally as he had done her. But Lahra didn't say anything. For now, the only response she could muster was silence.

  *

  When the Town Hall clock struck seven, any self doubt that had been threatening to unbalance Lahra disappeared completely. The large meeting room was full of townsfolk, so much so that they were spilling out into the entrance hall. Their ebullient discussion rose to a clamour, every note of which was like music to Lahra's ears. A television camera crew had arrived and were setting up in one corner. Even now, before any formal proceedings had begun, the vibe in the air was astoundingly positive.

  Since she and Wally had arrived twenty minutes ago, she'd been scanning the rapidly growing crowd for Marcus. Riverbank was not renowned for its proliferation of tall, handsome, well-dressed men, so he would be easy to spot in this crowd of university students and unpretentious townspeople. But he was nowhere to be seen.

  "Looks like we have quite a little success on our hands," a familiar voice came from behind her. She turned, and came face to face with Malcolm McGuire.

  "Malcolm, hello!" she said delightedly, and planted a kiss on his rosy cheek.

  Malcolm raised his eyebrows and looked at Wally. "No wonder you hang out with these young lassies. Full of fire, aren't they?"

  "I have to thank you for all your help," Lahra said. "You helped take us from nowhere to somewhere. I never imagined a response like this."

  "You deserve it, lass. Besides, we can't have Walter here wandering the streets at his age. He'd be a menace to society!"

  Their laughter was interrupted by a loud voice trying to make itself heard from the small stage behind them. The hall wasn't quite large enough to warrant the installation of a microphone, but even this considerable voice was having trouble adjusting the volume of the room. Row by row, section by section, the din lowered to a hubbub, the hubbub to a quiet. All eyes turned to the primly dressed woman on the stage.

  "Good evening everybody," she began. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Mayor Bronwyn Boyle. Myself and several other members of the Riverbank City Council were asked to attend tonight's meeting as it would be in the best interests of the town to hear in full the complaints regarding the redevelopment of the Miracle Cinema. We have a surprisingly large turnout despite the return to winter we're experiencing, so rather than delay you with any preamble, I suggest we cut to the chase, as they say in the movies. So I'll step aside to let the lady who invited us all here tonight have her say, Ms Lahra Brook."

  As soon as her name was mentioned, the hall erupted into applause. For a delirious second, Lahra thought she must have heard the name wrong, that it was actually somebody else who had been introduced. But when Wally winked at her and clapped along with the crowd, she knew it was for her. Not quite believing the response, she shuffled sideways through the crowd towards the steps that led onto the stage. As she was about to step up, a hand grasped her arm and twirled her around.

  "Lahra," said the excited voice of Kurt Carol. "I'm with you one hundred percent! Remember that... one hundred percent!"

  Lahra smiled at Kurt, who let go of her arm and continued clapping enthusiastically. She continued on, and rose up onto the stage, overlooking a sea of smiling, well-wishing faces. The TV camera stared at her with its big, black eye. It was like nothing she'd experienced before. She stood there and waited, adjusting her glasses unnecessarily while the applause went down to a simmer, then stopped altogether. She cleared her throat.

  And just then, Marcus Dean made his entrance.

  Her eyes went straight to him as if nobody else was in the room. He made his way through small spaces in the throng, heading towards the stage. It was only a second or two that she hesitated, but it was obviously enough for people to notice. Long enough for Kurt Carol to notice, anyway. She saw him turn to see what it was she was looking at, a hint of curiosity on his face.

  "Thank you all very much. For such an unexpected reception, and for braving the weather to be here tonight." Wally smiled up at her from beneath his moustache. It brought little comfort from the knowledge that Marcus was growing ever-closer to the stage. The periphery of her vision tracked his progress through the room.

  "Just so that everybody knows, present tonight besides Mayor Boyle are council members Shane Brereton and Julia Simpson, and Arnold Connor, Advisor to our Local State Member of Parliament Bob Moses." A small bout of applause roamed the room. The council members appeared suitably happy to be involved in this affair, but Arnold Connor looked like he'd prefer to be almost anywhere other than this. "It is these people we are trying to impress tonight with the very clear message that the people of Riverbank do not want to see the closure of the Miracle Cinema." Applause once more, this time excited.

  Marcus was close enough to the stage now for Lahra to see the rich colour of his eyes. He was watching her intently as he slowly moved forward. She did her best to avoid his gaze as she spoke.

  "It's been just three days since news of the planned redevelopment of the Miracle Cinema became public. Thanks to the help of people like Malcolm McGuire at the Riverbank Gazzette and Dave Conigrave at Valley FM, we've been able to spread concern throughout the community at an extremely rapid rate.

  "There are many others of you here tonight who I don't know by name, but I do know that through Malcolm and Walter Dymple you were able to mobilise quickly and circulate petitions, which are collected here tonight." She gestured towards several folders and piles of paper sitting on a small table at the side of the stage. "At first count, your efforts have acquired the signatures of over four thousand regional residents."

  At that, loud applause sounded, along with several hoots from some of the more boisterous university students.

  "I think everybody here tonight is aware of why we want the Miracle Cinema saved. By sheer numbers alone, I don't think we'll have a hard time convincing those who need to be convinced that there has to be some sort of intervention.

  "But there are serious issues involved that don't just affect the cinema. They could affect the very way in which Riverbank grows and develops. As residents, we all have a say in what the place we live in should be like. And if we achieve anything by this, it will be to recl
aim that right. That we won't just lay down and let anyone with some grand plan come along and change things to the way they think it should be."

  Affirming applause swept the room. Lahra glanced down at Marcus, who stood there, stoic.

  "Before I invite discussion from the floor," Lahra continued, "some food for thought. The Miracle Cinema is one of only a handful of original Art Deco cinemas still standing in the country today. If we succeed in saving it, we plan to lobby state and federal government for funds to help restore it to its former glory, perhaps to one of the best there is. We'll also raise funds within the community, so tonight is really only the beginning of a long haul. But keep in mind that next year is the Miracle Cinema's eightieth anniversary. What better way to celebrate than with a grand re-opening?"

  Applause sounded yet again, and Lahra waited for Marcus’s voice to break it in loud objection. For all the positive response she was getting, his silence was the thing that held her attention most.

  "Is there anything anybody wishes to comment on?" Lahra asked. "Are there any questions?" It was only a matter of seconds now. He surely needed no more invitation than that.

  "Lahra," a voice came from near the back of the room, along with a half-raised hand. "I'm no lawyer, but what about due process? Did these developers just sidestep the system? Why are we only hearing about this now? And what can we do about it?"

  "I'm no lawyer either," Lahra began, "but here's how I understand it." And she explained. She explained that Stone Rowbottom & Partners had indeed complied with the rules, if only to the minimum capacity required so as to go under the radar. She explained the power of public opinion and its effects on politics. She explained the legal processes of court orders and injunctions. And at one point Malcolm McGuire offered his services, propping himself up on the front of the stage to clarify the parts where Lahra was out of her depth. A solicitor named Sally Stefano offered her expertise as well.