Основы политической системы США (стр. 15 )

“I’ll help with that,” Seth Orinda volunteered.

There was an immediate chorus of, “So will I.”

Deacon Euphrates’s voice rose above others. “I got time comin’ to me. Goddam, I’ll use it; take a week off work, an’ I can pull in others.”

“Good!” Margot said. She went on decisively, “We’ll need a master plan. I’ll have that ready by tomorrow night. The rest of you should begin recruiting right away. And remember, secrecy is important.”

Half an hour later the meeting broke up, the committee members far more cheerful and optimistic than when they had assembled.

At Margot’s request, Seth Orinda stayed behind. She told him, “Seth, in a special way I need your help.”

“You know I’ll give it if I can, Miss Bracken.”

“When any action starts,” Margot said, “I’m usually at the front of it. You know that.”

“I sure do.” The high school teacher beamed.

“This time I want to stay out of sight. Also, I don’t want my name involved when newspapers, TV, and radio start their coverage. If that happened it could embarrass two special friends of mine – the ones I spoke about at the bank. I want to prevent that.”

Orinda nodded sagely. “So far as I can see, no problem.”

“What I’m really asking,” Margot insisted, “is that you and the others front this one for me. I’ll be behind scenes, of course. And if there’s need to, you can call me, though I hope you won’t.”

“That’s silly,” Seth Orinda said. “How could we call you when none of us ever heard your name?”

On Saturday evening, two days after the Forum East Tenants Association meeting, Margot and Alex were guests at a small dinner party given by friends, and afterward went together to Margot’s apartment. It was in a less fashionable part of the city than Alex’s elegant suite, and was smaller, but Margot had furnished it pleasingly with period pieces she had collected at modest prices in the course of years. Alex loved to be there.

It was a week and a half since they had last been together, conflicting schedules having kept them apart.

“We’ll make up for those lost days,” Margot said.

Alex was silent. Then, “You know, I’ve been waiting all evening for you to fry me on a griddle about Forum East. Instead, you haven’t said a word.”

Margot tilted her head farther back, looking at him upside down. She asked innocently, “Why should I fry you, darling? The bank’s money cutback wasn’t your idea.” Her small brow furrowed. “Or was it?”

“You know darn well it wasn’t.”

“Of course I knew. Just as I was equally sure that you’d opposed it.”

“Yes, I opposed it.” He added ruefully, “For all the good it did.”

“You tried your best. That’s all anyone can ask.”

Alex regarded her suspiciously. “None of this is like you.”

“Not like me in what way?”

“You’re a fighter. It’s one of the things I love about you. You don’t give up. You won’t accept defeat calmly.”

“Perhaps some defeats are total. In that case nothing can be done.”

Alex sat up straight. “You’re up to something, Bracken! I know it. Now tell me what it is.”

Margot considered, then said slowly, “I’m not admitting anything. But even if what you just said is true, it could be there are certain things it’s better you don’t know. Something I’d never want to do, Alex, is embarrass you.”

He looked at her intently. “You’re planning something in that convoluted pixie mind of your.”

“I admit nothing.”

“Whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t involve pay toilets.”

“Oh God, no!”

At the year-old memory, both laughed aloud. It had been one of Margot’s combat victories and created wide attention.

Her battle had been with the city’s airport commission which, at the time, was paying its several hundred janitors and cleaners substantially lower wages than were normal in the area. The workers’ union was corrupt, had a “sweetheart contract” with the commission, and had done nothing to help. In desperation a group of airport employees sought help from Margot who was beginning to build a reputation in such matters.

A frontal approach by Margot to the commission produced merely a rebuff. She therefore decided that public attention must be gained and one way to obtain it was by ridiculing the airport and its rulers. In preparation, and working with several other sympathizers who had aided her before, she made an intelligence study of the big, busy airport during a heavy traffic night.

A factor noted by the study was that when evening flights, on which dinner and drinks had been served, disgorged their passengers, the bulk of the arrivals headed promptly for airport toilets, thus creating maximum demand for those facilities over a period of several hours.

The following Friday night, when incoming and departing air traffic was heaviest of all, several hundred volunteers, principally off-duty janitors and cleaners, arrived at the airport under Margot’s direction. From then until they left much later, all were quiet, orderly, and law-abiding.

Their purpose was to occupy, continuously throughout the evening, every public toilet in the airport. And they did. Margot and assistants had prepared a detailed plan and the volunteers went to assigned locations where they paid a dime and settled down, solaced by reading material, portable radios, and even food which many brought. Some of the women had their needlepoint or knitting. It was the ultimate in legal sit-ins.

In the men’s toilets, more volunteers formed long lines in front of urinals, each dilatory line moving with stunning slowness. If a male not in the plot joined any lineup it took him an hour to reach the front. Few, if any, waited that long.

A floating contingent explained quietly to anyone who would listen what was happening, and why.

The airport became a shambles with hundreds of angry, anguished passengers complaining bitterly and heatedly to airlines who, in turn, assailed airport management. The latter found themselves frustrated and helpless to do anything. Other observers, not involved or in need, found the situation hilarious. No one was indifferent.

News media representatives, tipped off by Margot in advance, were present in force. Reporters vied with each other to write stories which were carried nationwide by wire services, then repeated internationally and used by such differing journals as Izvestia, Johannesburg Star, and The Times of London. Next day, as a result, the entire world was laughing.

In most news reports the name Margot Bracken figured prominently. There were intimations that more “sit-ins” would follow.

As Margot had calculated, ridicule is one of the strongest weapons in any arsenal. Over the weekend the airport commission conceded that discussions would be held on janitors’ and cleaners’ wages, which resulted in increases soon after. A further development was that the corrupt union was voted out, a more honest one replacing it.

The sight was so unusual that one of the branch’s loan officers, Cliff Castleman, strolled over to the platform.

“Mrs. D’Orsey, have you looked out of a window yet, by any chance?”

“No,” Edwina said. She had been concentrating on the morning mail. “Why should I?”

It was 8:55 A. M., Wednesday, at First Mercantile American’s main downtown branch.

“Well,” Castleman said, “I thought you might be interested. There’s a lineup outside such as I’ve never seen ahead of opening time before.”

Edwina looked up. Several staff members were craning to look out of windows. There was a buzz of conversation among the employees generally, unusual this early in the day. She sensed an undercurrent of concern.

Leaving her desk, Edwina walked a few paces to one of the large plate-glass windows, part of the street frontage of the building. What she saw amazed her. A long queue of people, four or five abreast, extended from the main front door past the entire length of the building and out of sight beyond. It appeared as if all were waiting for the bank to open.

She stared incredulously. “What on earth…?”

“Someone went outside just now,” Castleman informed her. “They say the line extends halfway across Rosselli Plaza and more people are joining it all the time.”

“Has anyone asked what they all want?”

“One of the security guards did, I understand. The answer was, they’ve come to open accounts.”

“That’s ridiculous! All of those people? There must be three hundred I can see from here. We’ve never had that many new accounts in a single day.”

The loan officer shrugged. “I’m simply passing on what I heard.”

Tottenhoe, the operations officer, joined them at the window, his face transmitting his normal grumpiness. “I’ve notified Central Security,” he informed Edwina. “They say they’ll send more guards and Mr. Wainwright’s coming over. Also, they’re advising the city police.”

Edwina commented, “There’s no outward sign of trouble. Those people all seem peaceful.”

People in the lineup were talking to each other, some animatedly, but no one appeared antagonistic. A few, seeing themselves observed, smiled and nodded to the bank officials.

“Look at that!” Cliff Castleman pointed. A TV crew with camera had appeared. While Edwina and the others watched, it began filming.

“Peaceful or not,” the loan officer said, “there has to be a motive behind all these people coming here at once.”

A flash of insight struck Edwina. “It’s Forum East,” she said. “I’ll bet it’s Forum East.”

Several others whose desks were nearby had approached and were listening.

Tottenhoe said, “We should delay opening until the extra guards get here.”

All eyes swung to a wall clock which showed a minute to nine.

“No,” Edwina instructed. She raised her voice so that others could hear. “We’ll open as usual, on time. Everyone go back to their work, please.”

Tottenhoe hurried away, Edwina returning to the platform and her desk.

From her vantage point she watched the main doors swing open and the first arrivals pour in. Those who had been at the head of the line paused momentarily on entry, looked around curiously, then quickly moved forward as others behind pressed in. Within moments the central public area of the big branch bank was filled with a chattering, noisy crowd. The building, relatively quiet less than a minute earlier, had become a Babel. Edwina saw a tall heavyset black man wave some dollar bills and declare loudly, “Ah want to put ma money in th’ bank.”