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Page 31

by Natalia Banks


  “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 silence 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 answe
r 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 let 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.

  They peered out from the Skype window of Lorraine’s laptop sitting on the couch of their family home in Denver.

  From a quiet place in the penthouse family room, Lorraine said, “I wish you’d let us buy you a new house, one nicer, or a condo on the Gulf or something.”

  “Stop it dear, we're just fine. You've done more than enough for us already, believe me.”

  Lorraine asked, “So how’s it going out there?”

  “The PEEC project center couldn’t be going any better,” Sally said, raising a metal water bottle to her lips instead of her former day drink. “I think we should open a second one in Lincoln Park.”

  Larry nodded. “And the numbers are lining up. I may not be the kind of accountant Griffin would have around the New York offices, but we’re in the black.”

  Lorraine couldn’t help but smile, and she didn’t want to help it. “If we had more people like you on the board, the last few years would have gone a lot more smoothly.” They chuckled, and Lorraine said, “Daddy, you’re … quite conservative these days. You’re not still into those Malapropisms?”

  Sally said, “Since the center opened, we’ve both been so busy overseeing it, and our own businesses … dear, I can’t tell you what a blessing it’s been, and what a blessing you’ve been. We’re so proud of you, Lorraine.”

  Larry smiled, too. “It’s true, baby, you’re achieving such incredible things.”

  Lorraine wondered if they could see her blush over the internet streaming connection, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to hide anything from her parents anymore, and she knew she’d never have to worry about that again. They’d reached a balance that Lorraine had always hoped for, that she’d worked her whole life for. Lorraine felt like she’d earned their respect, earned her place in their family in addition to her own family with Griffin.

  Everything was working out just perfectly …

  Jeremy and Anton Le Deux sat on the other side of Griffin’s desk in his study, Lorraine sitting nearby. The polished walnut panelling and bookshelves gave the room a sleekness without sacrificing the warmth of all that wood, the coziness of the books and the family photos hanging on the walls. Lorraine, Ashe, Kayla and Griffin smiled out from behind the glass panes, from the Eiffel Tower in Paris, a mountaintop in Sweden, wearing cheesy Mickey Mouse ear hats during their weekend at Disney World.

  Jeremy leaned forward from his chair, his husband Anton quiet and nodding next to him. “We don’t mean to intrude, Grif,” Jeremy said. “You’ve already been so kind, so generous.”

  “It’s okay, Jeremy. You’re like family, we always want to help anyway we can.” Griffin assured.

  Anton nodded, his tall, lean body bend forward from one of the two chairs pulled up to the other side of the desk. His long black dreadlocks hung over his dark face. “Irie, big up!”

  “And we wouldn’t bother either of you, but we really don’t have anywhere else to turn,” Jeremy said hesitantly.

  Sitting behind his desk, fingers tented in front of his chin, Griffin asked, “What do you need, Jeremy?”

  “Well,” he said nervously, biting his lower lip, “taking care of your kids has just been so great, such a blessing, and watching Lorraine being such a good mother, it’s kind of made me think that Anton and I would like to raise a child, too.”

  Griffin and Lorraine glanced at one another, neither certain of the source of Jeremy’s nervousness.

  “And we wish you the best,” Griffin said. “You’re talking about adoption, or a surrogate? You’re not thinking of Lorraine to carry your — ”

  “No no,” Jeremy said, waving his hand in front of his face to help erase the idea, “not that at all. We’ve looked into adoption, but it’s really hard for men in our situation.”

  Lorraine said, “You’re legally married. There aren’t any legal problems with adopting, are there?”

  “It’s legal, if that’s what you mean. And we’ve already done as much paperwork as we can on it. But let’s face it, there are thousands of straight couples waiting for newborns, even young babies. We’re also a mixed-race couple, and Anton wasn’t a citizen until we married. And he’s Jamaican, another unspoken check against us.”

  “What a
bout an older kid, or the foster care program? There are a lot of needy kids who’d be thrilled to have two fine fathers like you. I know they’re always looking for foster families.”

  “Traditional families,” Jeremy said. “At least most adoption agencies are private. The foster care system is run by the government, and that’s a whole other bureaucracy.”

  “Tell me about it,” Lorraine said, shaking her head. “The public library system’s the same way, the Education Department, too.”

  Griffin asked, “You don’t know anybody … present company excluded … who might carry a child, one with your own DNA? There are private surrogates, but I don’t imagine they come very cheap.”

  “Twenty thousand dollars,” Jeremy said, “and up.”

  Griffin glanced at Lorraine, then back at Jeremy and Anton. “That’s it?” he asked surprised.

  Jeremy went on, “And related expenses, tests and that kind of thing. And, um, now that we’re talking about it, I don’t actually have any health insurance.”

  “Oh, that’s right, because you’re not on the company payroll.”

  “That’s right, Household payroll,” Jeremy said.

  Griffin and Lorraine swapped another glance, Griffin rubbing the back of his head and sighed. “Okay. First of all, Jeremy, you’re fired.”

  “What?”

  Anton asked, “Wah gwaan?”

  Griffin smiled. “You’re now an employee of Phoenix Enterprises. We’ll call you an operations specialist, I think that adequately describes what you do around here.” Jeremy and Anton sat with stunned but grateful smiles, Lorraine’s smile not so stunned but just as sincere. Griffin went on, “I’ll have to double your pay, naturally.”

  Lorraine muttered, “Griffin … ”

  “Oh, I apologize,” Griffin said without a trace of sarcasm or irony, “I really should discuss it with my wife.” To Lorraine, he asked, “Do you approve?”

 

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