Miracle Man (4 page)

"Looks like you've got
a few more grey hairs," she joked, knowing full well that Wally had had a
thick mop of silver hair in all the time she'd known him.

"Hey, I wouldn't be
joking about grey hairs if I were you, young lady. You'll be my age soon!"

"In forty years, you
rat!" She slapped him playfully on the arm as he laughed huskily.

Wally regarded Lahra from
beneath his bushy eyebrows. "Still as pretty as ever. What's wrong with
the men out there today? In my day they'd have been beating down your
door."

"Well, you know me. If
he ain't Cary Grant, he ain't got a chance! Besides, who said there wasn't an
eligible suitor in the wings?"

"Oohhhh!" Wally
sounded intrigued by this prospect. "So has someone actually managed to
pass the formidable Doctor Brook selection test?"

Lahra laughed teasingly, and
then out of nowhere the image of Marcus Dean leapt into her head, waist deep in
cold, running water, fixing her with those green-gold eyes. Her laughter
stuttered as the dripping Marcus began stepping towards her, rising out of the
water-

"So, there is someone
then!" Wally pursued, seeing the flash of thought on her face.

"No, Wally, no,"
Lahra assured, shaking the image out of her head. "Sorry to disappoint
you. I know how eager you are to see me find the right man. And with you as my
matchmaker, how can I fail?" She smiled at Wally and again felt the urge
to hug him, so she did.

"Wah! Hug them like
that, Doc, and they'll be yours for life."

Lahra let go and took
Wally's big, fatherly hands in hers. She looked at him earnestly. Marilyn
Monroe continued to sing in the background. "So tell me Wally. How are
you?"

As Lahra watched, a
transformation took place on her old friend's face. The big moustache drooped
as the smile beneath it faded. The boyish glint in the eyes dissipated. The
lines on the forehead gathered and deepened above the converging eyebrows.
Watching the change take place, Lahra could feel her own features go from bright
to curious to concerned. She tightened her grip on his warm hands.
"Actually, Lahra, things aren't so good."

She waited for him to
continue. But the old man moved away from her and went back over to the
projector, continuing his checks. "Wally, what is it? What's wrong?"
She went to him, and she could see by the look on his face that he wanted to
say something but didn't quite know how. His eyes concentrated on the projector
gate. "Are you ill? Is it your heart again?"

"No, no, I'm fine. It's
nothing like that."

"Well what is it then?
You're scaring me."

"It's strange timing
you should arrive here now," Wally began. "The only reason I'm here
is because Perkins called me in an hour or so ago."

"And?"

There was a moment's silence
as Wally seemed to gather all the strength he could. "He fired me."

"He WHAT?" Lahra's
thoughts reeled at the incredible news. Her shock couldn't have been any
greater had she been slapped across the face. "How could he do that?
You've been the projectionist here for over forty years. Nobody knows this
place better than you. If it weren't for you the Miracle wouldn't be half the
cinema it is today. What do you mean he fired you?"

"There's more to it,
Lahra." Wally looked at her again with an almost apologetic face. Her eyes
searched his for any possible clue of what he was about to say, but saw only
blankness.

"What, Wally? What is
it?"

"The Miracle's been
sold. Next week they begin tearing it down."

*

Wally's bluestone cottage
was set in a big, picturesque garden not far from River Fork. The front yard
was dominated by a towering white gum, complemented by patches of wildflowers
that were just now beginning to blossom. A gravel drive leading down from the
access road ended at a worn out timber shed that acted as a garage for Wally's
old but reliable Ford wagon. Lahra pulled up behind him in the late afternoon
light. For the year or more that this place had been her home, Wally had looked
after her as if she were his own. As she followed him inside she thought that
maybe the time had come to return the favour.

The shock of Wally's news
was still sinking in. The Miracle Cinema had brought Lahra the love of film, a
passion so strong that it had turned into a career. And it had brought her the
love of friendship with Wally, the closest thing she had to a parent since the
death of her mother and father when she was seventeen. Now it seemed that all
of that love counted for nothing. That there were forces more powerful in the
universe that steamrolled such emotions without the slightest consideration.
All Lahra could think as they made their way into the kitchen and she filled
the kettle, was that two of the most important things in her life were being
hurt and there seemed to be nothing she could do to stop it.

Wally slumped into one of
the wooden chairs at the wide, pine table and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Lahra
tried to disguise her concern. If Wally saw her worrying it would probably only
make him feel worse. She lit the stove and began preparing some peppermint tea.

"Remember Sunday
nights?" Wally asked suddenly. Lahra smiled as the memories came back.
"Every Sunday night we'd prepare a thermos of peppermint tea and take it
with us to the Miracle."

"You know, these days
when I watch old films I feel funny if I don't have a cup of peppermint
tea," Lahra admitted.

"Well, it was a
tradition that lasted almost three years. When things go on for long enough
it's hard to shake them out of your system." Lahra joined him at the table
while the kettle boiled. "Who'd have thought that the little kid who kept
pestering me to come into the projection booth to have a look would still be
around the day they gave me the boot." Wally laughed, but here was little
humour in it. He took Lahra's hand. "Thanks for sticking around all these
years, Doc. Not everyone's lucky enough to have friends like you."

"I'm the lucky
one," Lahra replied. "Look at all the things you've done for me. You
gave me a box seat at the cinema since I was eight years old. You let me stay
with you after Mum and Dad died and helped me finish school. You looked over
the house while I was away studying in the city. Everything you've done has
been beyond the call." Lahra's thoughts suddenly darkened. "I just
can't believe that you were sacked after all that you did for the Miracle. You
are
the Miracle."

"And the Miracle's
being knocked down," Wally added. "I don't know, Doc. Life isn't like
the movies. It doesn't always have happy endings. I can't complain about my
lot, I've had a long and happy reign. I've seen a lot of wonderful movies and
met a lot of wonderful people. I'm just sad for the cinema. It's a beautiful
place. Sure, it's seen better days. The walls are cracking in places and the
curtains and seats are a little worn. But it's still beautiful. Heck, I don't
need to tell you that. I don't know. Maybe things just have to change. Maybe
it’s inevitable that the old makes way for the new. It's our time to make way.
That's all. Nothing we can do about it."

"Rubbish!" Lahra
retorted. "Of course there are things we can do. And it's not your time to
make way, or the Miracle's. The only reason we lose things is because we don't
care enough about them. We hold them for a while and think we care, but one day
they slip through our fingers and just go away. If we hold tight and keep
holding tight we'll always have the things we love and we won't have to keep
looking for replacements. This isn't a peppermint tea ritual we're giving away
here. It's something dear to both our hearts. And who says life isn't like the
movies? Life has happy endings. And movies don't always end on an up.
Dr
Zhivago
doesn't exactly have the most uplifting ending I've
experienced."

Wally smiled warmly at
Lahra's passionate outburst. The kettle started to whistle. "You and
Dr
Zhivago
," he chuckled. "I knew I called you Doc for good
reason."

"I mean it,
Wally," Lahra went on, getting up to pour the tea. "We shouldn't just
accept this. There must be something we can do. Did Perkins say anything else
to you—anything at all?"

"All he said was that
he'd received a very attractive offer for the cinema and it would be closing
down as of Monday. I'd be paid out until the end of the month. When I asked why
it was being closed down all he said was that there were plans to redevelop,
and they were going to start knocking it down next week."

"They? Who's
they?"

"I have no idea. I
could barely believe what I was hearing, I didn't even think to ask."

Lahra sat down with the
steaming mugs of peppermint tea. "Well that's the first thing we have to
find out—who's buying the Miracle and exactly what they intend to do with it.
Maybe we can work something out, come to some sort of deal." A sudden
inspiration excited her. "Or maybe
we
could buy the Miracle!"

"And where do we get
the money from? I know I don't have it, and I'm pretty sure you don't."

"We could take out a
business loan. Do everything properly."

"Lahra, your intentions
are admirable, but you've got a wonderful career ahead of you to think about.
That's what you should be concentrating on. You're going to win seven Oscars,
remember?"

Lahra knew that Wally was
right. To take on the responsibility of a business venture at a time in her
career when things were just starting to happen would be foolhardy.

"You are right,
though," Wally continued. "We ought to find out who's responsible and
exactly what's going on. Maybe there's something we can do. When I go in
tonight, I'll corner Perkins and find out all I can."

Lahra took a long sip of her
tea. None of it made sense to her. The Miracle Cinema was a landmark in
Riverbank. Why would somebody want to come along and demolish it? True, from
the day he inherited the cinema from his father, Perkins never had his heart in
it. Patronage had dwindled and the building had suffered from slack
maintenance. If it weren't for Wally's efforts in programming and what little
odd jobs he could manage, things would have been a lot worse.

The bottom line was that the
Miracle Cinema was far from ready to take its final bow. And whatever it took
to ensure that it continued better than ever, Lahra would do.

*

Two cups of tea and a slice
of carrot cake later, Lahra and Wally had managed to talk of things other than
the impending closure of the Miracle Cinema. Their conversation filled the gaps
that their letters had left out. Time passed quickly and it was almost time for
Wally to get back into town to prepare for the night's screenings.

"In case you missed it,
I cut you some fresh fire wood last week," Wally said as he cleared the
table. "It's still a bit chilly after the sun goes down."

"You're too good to
me."

Lahra looked at her watch.
Six thirty. She was well aware that Marcus Dean would be expecting her in
another half an hour. Her stomach began doing somersaults as she thought about
it.

"So what are you going
to do tonight?" Wally asked.

"Well," Lahra
began, not having a clue as to what she was going to do, "I still have
some unpacking, a bit of cleaning. Have to start building some more
bookshelves. I don't know. Just settle in and relax, I guess." She only
wished she could relax. As if the Miracle Cinema wasn't stress enough in her
life, she also had to contend with Marcus Dean in the short term. She didn't
even have his number to call and say she'd had a change of plans. In any case,
Wally didn't need to hear anything about her little dilemma.

They walked out to the cars.
Lahra looked up at the first stars of the evening. Always so much brighter out
here.

"You know, Doc, ever
since Helen passed away I've had two loves in my life. The Miracle, and you. As
much as I love the Miracle, if it goes it doesn't really matter. People are
much more important than buildings."

They hugged again. In her
heart, she knew that he was right. If worse came to worst with the cinema, the
things that mattered would still be there. They'd still have their friendship.

But even so, that was no
excuse for not trying. As far as Lahra was concerned, tomorrow was the start of
a new era for the Miracle Cinema.

"You go and build your
bookshelves," Wally said. "And I'll go crank up the old
projector."

"Okay. I'll talk to you
later."

"I'll call if I find
anything out."

"Alright. I'll be
up."

"Drive safe."

"Yeah, you too."

Their cars got out on the
main road, and headed in different directions.

*

The bottle of chardonnay sat
open on the kitchen bench. Miles Davis played on the CD player. And Lahra Brook
finished putting away the last of her groceries, deep in thought.