Miracle Man (11 page)

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.

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 downstairs. 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 reclaim 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."