Miracle Man (12 page)

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.

And so it went on for the
next half an hour. One comment would lead to a chain reaction of involvement.
People from all over town, of differing ages and socio-economic situations, had
something to contribute. And the whole time Lahra waited for Marcus to have his
say. But he said nothing. Finally there came a break in the discussion.

"There's been a lot of
positive thought expressed," Lahra said, resisting the compulsion to let
her throat clench up. "But without directly addressing the position of the
people we are opposing, our job is only half done." Lahra looked at Wally,
and his expression was even more surprised than she imagined it would be.
"So I invite to the stage the man who is in charge of the proposed Miracle
Cinema redevelopment, from Stone Rowbottom & Partners, Mr Marcus
Dean."

Her eyes shifted to Marcus,
and every pair of eyes in the room followed. A murmur of curiosity undulated
from wall to wall. She looked at him standing there with his hands in the
pockets of his jeans, and he looked back at her. At first it seemed he was just
going to stand there like that and do nothing. But finally he moved toward the
stage steps. And from what Lahra could tell, no eyes followed him with as much
curiosity, or as much suspicion, as Kurt Carol's.

Marcus’s lean,
broad-shouldered frame stepped up onto the stage beside Lahra. She could read
nothing in his face as to what he might be thinking. His body language was the
same relaxed confidence he'd displayed from the first moment she'd seen him.
There was absolutely no trace of anxiety at having been summoned up in front of
hundreds of people who totally opposed him. From the way he was looking at her,
it was as if they were the only two people in the room. If only Lahra felt as
composed as Marcus Dean looked.

"Thank you, Lahra, for
giving me the opportunity to speak here tonight." He didn't smile as he
spoke. Lahra felt relieved when he finally looked away from her and out at the
audience. "I realise that most, if not all people in this room have made
up their minds regarding what they'd like to see done with the Miracle Cinema.
And I'd be a fool to stand here and try to change the mind of any one of you.
Instead, let me suggest to you what the true sadness behind this whole
situation is."

The room was quieter than it
had been all night. Lahra scanned the faces in the crowd, observing the way
they looked up at Marcus. With so little effort he had captivated an entire
audience. No wonder she had been powerless against his charm. No wonder every
effort she had made to buffer her heart against him had ended up in tatters.

"There is only one
person in this room who can feel proud of what's being done. And she's standing
right next to me. Without Lahra Brook, none of you would be here tonight. Just
as none of you would have been terribly moved once the cinema closed down, or
once redevelopment began. And just as none of you would have thought twice
about patronising any new business built in the shadows of the old.

"What I'm talking about
is complacency. I'm not disputing the fact that you all feel passionate about
your cause here tonight. But how many of you would have gone to the lengths
that Lahra Brook has gone to, to make all this happen? How many other examples
in Riverbank's history are there—and not just Riverbank, anywhere!—where things
once loved were lost, for no reason other than it was easier for people to
remain complacent than to take action?"

Marcus shot Lahra a look,
and she caught its full force. His eyes were ablaze.

"The reason Stone Rowbottom
& Partners decided to redevelop the Miracle Cinema, on my personal
recommendation, was that we could. It's as simple as that. A piece of prime
real estate in a growing town. A business that had lost money for the past
seven years. A building that nobody, bar Lahra Brook, gave a second glance when
passing it in the street. It was a solid business proposition, and nothing
more.

"It may surprise you to
learn that I agree with everything being said here tonight. All the reasons
you've given for keeping the Miracle Cinema are valid. I just think it's a
shame that these feelings only surface when it's too late. And only then when
there's somebody like Lahra Brook to encourage them."

Lahra felt some of the eyes
in the room shift to her. She was glad that they could only see the
outside—what appeared to be a strong, determined woman, standing firmly before
them. Had they been able to see through to the inside, to the rollercoaster of
emotion that she rode every time Marcus came near her, what inspiration could
she possibly hope to provide?

"Tomorrow, initial work
begins on the cinema site," Marcus continued. "I'll ask you now not
to feel animosity towards me or any of the people who have found work through
the redevelopment of the Miracle Cinema. None of us has a devious plan to
destroy the past. All we're doing is getting on with our futures. If it weren't
for complacency, none of this would be happening. If you want to be angry, be
angry at yourselves. And ask how you'll avoid this type of thing from happening
in Riverbank again.

"Next time, there might
not be a Lahra Brook to try and save you. Thank you."

With that, Marcus turned
from the silent crowd, and from Lahra, and headed for the steps.

"Marcus." It had
jumped out of Lahra's throat involuntarily, a thought that had somehow willed
itself into words. Marcus stopped at the top of the steps and turned to her.
She knew she wanted to say something, but exactly what she didn't know. In her
mind's eye she could see him leaving the stage and making his way back out
through the crowd, out through the doors and out into the street. And after
that, chances were he'd walk out of her life as well.

They stood there looking at
each other impassively, Lahra's lips poised to talk, but unable to shape
themselves around any sound. She wasn't aware of the room full of people any
more. They might as well have been looking at each other in front of the fire
in her living room.

"I have a question, Mr
Dean," a voice came from the audience. Lahra turned quickly to see Wally
taking a step forward and addressing the stage. She thought she saw him raise a
shrewd eyebrow her way, but if he did it was gone in a flash. The attention of
the crowd moved to Wally as he spoke. "Do you expect me to be angry at
myself for losing my job? Do you expect these people to be angry at themselves
for taking positive action as soon as they became aware of what was happening?
Do you think that people being complacent really gives you the excuse to go
ahead and do whatever you want?"

Marcus regarded Wally for
several seconds, thinking. "I'm merely pointing out that there are ways to
avoid losing the things you love before it's too late."

"I see," Wally
said with great consideration. He looked at Lahra, then back at Marcus.
"Well I hope you know what you're talking about. Everybody in this room,
especially Lahra Brook, is trying to hold on to what they love. None of us
thinks it's too late. I just wonder what it is you love. And I wonder if you
know when it's going to be too late."

Lahra looked at Wally,
something deep inside her shifting uncomfortably as if a secret she'd been
guarding preciously had somehow gotten loose. He was talking as if he knew
everything that had happened between her and Marcus. Surely she hadn't been so
transparent all this time. But it was there in his eyes. A knowing, protective
look, the kind which usually only a mother or father might have.

The hushed room waited for
some kind of rejoinder, but something else came to their ears. A low rumbling
noise, barely audible at first, but growing in volume quickly. Some heads
turned to try and locate a source, and questioning murmurs arose. In a matter
of seconds, the rumbling had risen to such a level that it could be felt
through the floor. People standing in the doorway had moved out to the street
exit, and very soon activity outside drew more and more people that way.

Marcus ignored the steps and
jumped from the stage, making his way through the milling assembly in a hurry.
Lahra watched him go, then jumped down herself.

"Wally, what's going
on?"

"Only one way to find
out."

They headed for the doors
along with most of the other people in the room, the rumble now a constant,
powerful resonance. A horn of some sort, deep and menacing, sounded over the
din. The crowd had bottlenecked at the front doors, and Lahra stood on her toes
to try and see out to the street.

When at last she and Wally
emerged into the blustery night, just behind the TV camera crew, they were
amazed at what they saw.

It was a convoy. There were
half a dozen enormous dump trucks; huge flat-tray trucks with wheels almost as
wide as Lahra was tall, carrying all types of earth moving machinery; loaders,
rollers, bulldozers, cranes. And biggest of all, perched on the trailer of an
articulated rig, was a digger with treads six feet wide and a claw large enough
to pick up a car. The slow procession of yellow flashing lights moved past the
crowd down Main Street, the earth quaking as it went. Lahra turned her head to
follow the long line of brutal metal and stopped at the Miracle Cinema. They
were taking up positions right out front.

Instinctively, she headed
that way. Ahead she could see Marcus striding toward the front of the
cavalcade. She moved quicker, not waiting to see if Wally was still with her,
dodging the people who stretched inquisitively along the sidewalk. The scene
was oddly familiar to her, and in the back of her mind she recalled the B-grade
science fiction movies of the 1950s. The quiet town, suddenly invaded by
strange beings travelling in mysterious objects. The townsfolk, curious enough
or stupid enough to investigate when they should have kept their distance. The
inevitable disastrous outcome.

But as strange and
threatening as the machines that converged on the town were, Lahra held no
fear. Even beings from another galaxy had their weaknesses. And these were
merely men doing a job. As Marcus had so eloquently explained back in the Town
Hall, it was not them toward whom she should direct her protests. Her only
target was Marcus himself. She arrived behind him, puffing, just as he was
greeting a couple of burly men who alighted the van at the front of the convoy.

"Joe, Robert,
g’day," she heard Marcus say as he shook their hands. It was difficult to
hear over the engines of the various trucks as they assumed their positions
around them. "All good?" Marcus asked. "You know where to set
down, where the hotels are?"

"Yep,” Joe said
gruffly. “I’ll tuck these babies in for the night, check out the beer at the
nearest pub, and go have a long hot bath!"

"Okay, I'll leave you
to it. Meet you here at eight tomorrow morning."

Joe and Robert left to
oversee the fleet of new arrivals to Riverbank.

"So is the National
Guard coming too?" Lahra said loudly above the din. Marcus turned to her,
unaware that she had been standing there the whole time, and looked at her with
a small shake of the head. The yellow light of the nearest truck strobed across
his face.

"Are you going to
follow me through every step of this procedure? I'd have thought it would be
too painful to stand around and watch while the Miracle was reduced to
rubble."