Mirror, The (27 page)

How about an ounce of humanity?

"I'd like some pancakes," Ginny said curtly.

"Would you like a tall stack or a short one?"

"I'd like a short one and some coffee … please."

"How would you like your coffee?"

"Black," Ginny said.

The waitress, who went by the nametag Dee, scribbled something on the pad and then turned slowly to face James. She wore a scowl only an ex-husband could love.

"What can I get
you
?"

James smiled slightly and looked at the server with firm but gentle eyes.

"I think I'll have the same. Thank you."

Dee tore the top sheet from the pad and walked away. A moment later, she disappeared into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, James. I'd heard this place was good."

"It
is
good. The pancakes are better than my mom's."

"The service is not better than your mom's."

James smiled in a sad sort of way.

"No. It's not."

"We can always go somewhere else. I said I'd treat you to a nice breakfast, not just a breakfast thrown in front of you."

"I'm OK, Ginny. Really. Thank you for doing this," James said. He laughed. "Why
are
you doing this?

"I'm paying you back for the other day. I had the best time at your house. I like your family, particularly your parents. I
really
like your parents."

James laughed again.

"They'll both like hearing that."

"I wasn't so sure about your mom at first. I thought she was going to ask me a bunch of questions and warn me to stay away, but she didn't. She asked me to come to dinner again the next time I could. I liked that."

"She likes you, all right. There's no doubting that. So does my dad. He doesn't know what to make of you, but he likes you."

"That's nice to know. I wasn't sure how I'd be received."

"My parents are fair folks, Ginny. They don't judge people unless they give them a reason. They wanted to get to know you. Now they know what I know. You're a decent person."

"Thanks, James."

Ginny looked at her friend and coworker with new admiration. There was still a lot she didn't know – and wanted to know – about this guy, but what she knew she liked.

"I still don't know how you put up with all the slights," she said.

"You mean this?"

James pointed at the waitress with his head. Dee had returned to the dining area and greeted two new customers less than two minutes after they had walked through the door.

"Yes, that," Ginny said. "I'd be livid. I
am
livid."

"That's nothing. I get that sort of thing all the time."

"What about what happened outside the theater? Aren't you mad about that?"

James took a breath and looked at Ginny thoughtfully.

"No. I'm disappointed, but not mad. I'm not a mad person."

Ginny laughed.

"OK, smart girl, I am mad," James said. "Even my mom thinks I'm crazy at times. But I'm not angry. I don't go around getting angry at people just because they get angry at me."

Ginny reached across the table and put her hand on his.

"But you have a right to get angry, James. What these people are doing is wrong. They should treat you better. They should treat you no differently than me."

"You sound like Mike. He says the same thing."

"He's right too. He's totally right. If I were you, I'd want to punch these people in the mouth. Doesn't any of this ever bother you?"

James began to say something but stopped when Dee the Delinquent Waitress placed two cups of coffee on the table. When the server left, without saying a word, James resumed the conversation.

"Now, that's a different question. Of course it bothers me. I hate it when customers at Greer's ask me not to touch their produce. I hate it when I walk into a store and the clerk looks me over like I'm going to steal something. I hate it when white ladies cross the street when they see me coming. They don't think I notice, but I do."

"Then why don't you do something about it?" Ginny asked. "You have every right."

"I know I do, but I choose not to."

Ginny gave James an exasperated smile and withdrew her hand. Then she glanced at a nearby table and saw a copy of the
Seattle Sun
, the same edition she had read before leaving the duplex at nine. She got up from her chair.

"Where are you going?" James asked.

"Just sit tight. I want to show you something."

Ginny walked to the other table, picked up the newspaper, and quickly returned. She sat in her chair, flipped the paper to the front page, and pushed it in front of James.

"See anything worth reading?"

James pulled the paper closer. A headline in the upper right corner read: THREE CIVIL RIGHTS WORKERS FEARED SLAIN. He pushed the paper away.

"My dad showed me that story before I left. He talked about it a lot this morning."

"He should talk about it. It's a big deal."

"That happened in Mississippi, Ginny. Seattle isn't Mississippi."

"No. It's not. But you should care about what happens there," Ginny said. "You should care about what happens here too. We have our own problems."

James smiled and sighed.

"Mike was right about you," he said.

"Right about what?"

"He said you were an 'incident waiting to happen.'"

They both laughed.

"He really said that?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, he did."

Ginny smiled warmly.

"He's more right than wrong," she said. "I do care about stuff like this. When I see people get shoved around for no reason, I want to do something about it."

"There's nothing wrong with that. I feel that way too."

Ginny's smile grew into a grin.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Oh, jeez, what did I step in now?"

"There's a march next month in support of open-housing legislation," Ginny said. "I'm sure you can relate to that."

"Yeah. I guess I can."

"I've already talked to Katie about it. We're going to participate. I think Mike is too. If he doesn't, I'm going to sic my sister on him."

Ginny again extended her hand across the table.

"I want you to come with us."

James stared at her with a poker face.

"Please," she said.

Ginny waited a few seconds for an affirmative response. When she didn't get one, she abandoned the soft sell. She went straight to the pout.

James laughed.

"OK. OK. I give."

James shook his head.

"Now, put that lip away," he said.

"You'll go?"

"Yeah … I'll go."

CHAPTER 46: GINNY

Friday, June 26, 1964

As she approached the four-story building overlooking Elliott Bay, Ginny had to hand it to the architects. They hadn't cut corners. With imposing stone arches, intricate ironwork, and a twelve-ton solar ball mounted on the roof, the headquarters of the
Seattle Sun
was as impressive as any building on the university campus or even in the city.

Ginny climbed the stairs to the newsroom on the top floor, talked to a receptionist, and then worked her way through a sea of editors, reporters, and manual typewriters to a cluster of small glass-sided offices in back. She knocked on the door of the second office on the left and waited until Virginia Jorgenson, aka Nana, waved her in.

Virginia smiled at her visitor as she closed the door. She pulled a telephone handset from her ear, placed a hand over the mouthpiece, and pointed to a cushioned chair in front of her desk.

"I'll just be a moment, Ginny," she said. "Please make yourself comfortable."

Ginny did as instructed as the features editor returned to her call. When it was clear that the call would last more than a few seconds, she let her eyes wander. She glanced first at the editor's desk, which was covered with papers, and then at the back wall, which was covered with awards, diplomas, and, of course, photographs. Most were as impressive as those that hung in the house.

Virginia hung up the phone a few minutes later, sighed, and reached for a small package that sat atop her desk. She pulled out a cigarette, grabbed a lighter, and started to light a smoke but stopped herself before striking the flint. She laughed and shook her head.

"How thoughtless of me. I keep forgetting."

"It's all right," Ginny said.

Ginny found the whole scene comical. Great-grandma may have been a woman, but in this pressure-packed, male-dominated work environment she was clearly one of the boys. She would not at all have been surprised to find a flask of whiskey in one of her desk drawers.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, but I had to address an emergency," Virginia said.

"What kind of emergency?"

"Oh, the usual kind. It appears a reporter we sent on assignment has nothing to report. A white buffalo born in Moses Lake last year is turning brown. From a news standpoint, that makes him more a potential source of protein than a sacred object."

Ginny smiled.

"I'm sure your reporter will find something to write about."

"I'm sure he will. Roger has a way of making something out of nothing," Virginia said. She collected the papers on her desk and pushed them to the side. "I'm so glad you could make it. How was the bus ride over?"

"It was OK. I got to sit near the front and listen to a woman talk about her ex-husbands. She has four – five if you count a fiancé. They all sounded a lot like my ex-boyfriend."

Virginia laughed.

"That's why you have to pick a winner, dear. For every man like your great-grandfather, there are six or seven who should be doing time in Walla Walla."

Ginny laughed to herself. No wonder her father had idolized this woman. They had more in common than most siblings and even some twins, though probably not the ones occupying Unit A of the duplex on Dalton Avenue.

"I'll keep that in mind," Ginny said. "What did you want to see me about?"

Virginia sat up in her chair and folded her hands on top of the desk.

"I wanted you to come in for two reasons. The first is to give you a tour of the place. I noted your interest in the newspaper business the other day and wanted to show you what we do here. You might find journalism almost as interesting as public relations."

"What's the other reason?"

"The other reason is in this envelope," Virginia said.

The editor reached to her right and grabbed a thick manila envelope. She pulled it close, opened the seal, and retrieved what looked like a dozen eight-by-ten-inch photographs. She pushed the stack of photos to the middle of the desk.

"I didn't even bother sending these to a lab," Virginia said. "I wanted one of our people to process them and blow them up to eight-by-tens."

"What are they?" Ginny asked.

"Don't you recognize them? These are the pictures you took at the zoo. Take a look."

Virginia inverted the stack and pulled the photos apart. She placed all twelve in front of her visitor and fanned them out like a deck of cards.

Ginny grabbed a photo of an orangutan and held it up.

"I like this one. It reminds me of some of the fraternity boys I've met."

Virginia laughed.

"I'm sure it does. That's quite an expression on his face," Virginia said. "It almost looks like he's pleading with you to read him a story or perhaps tell him how handsome he looks with his ten-o'clock shadow."

"He was fun to watch. So were Mrs. Orangutan and their babies. It's amazing how much apes are like people. I don't just mean the frat-boy behavior either. They really are human-like."

Virginia pulled another photo from the assortment and handed it to Ginny.

"This is the one I like best."

Ginny held the picture in front of her face. She saw a lioness grooming her cub with a tongue the size of Texas. The photo looked like a cover shot for
National Geographic
.

"I like it too. It's good."

"It's more than good, Ginny. It's professional quality. All of these images are professional quality. I had our photo editor evaluate them yesterday. He badgered me all day to give him your name and number."

"Really?"

"I'm not joking," Virginia said. "You have serious talent, young lady."

"Thanks. That's flattering."

"You're welcome. But I didn't ask you to come in today to flatter you."

"I don't understand."

"It's simple, Ginny. I want to put you to work."

"You want me to work at the
Sun
?"

"No. I want you to work
for
the
Sun
.

"I don't understand," Ginny said.

"I want to send you out on assignment."

"What kind of assignment?"

"I'll tell you in a minute. It's nothing too difficult. Trust me on that. It's more like a test to see if you can do with people and places what you can clearly do with animals."

Ginny smiled and stared at her great-grandmother.

"You're speaking in code."

Virginia laughed.

"I suppose I am," Virginia said. "Here's the situation. The
Sun
plans to run a series of articles on Washington tourist attractions in August, including a story on Snoqualmie Falls. I want you to go out there sometime in the next month and take as many pictures of people and the falls as you can. If your photos are anything like these, we will publish them with the article."

"I'd love to do that," Ginny said.

"I thought you would. Don't worry about expenses, of course. We will cover any of those, including your bus fare to the falls. Just be sure to have the undeveloped rolls to me no later than July 31. I'll take care of the rest."

Ginny beamed.

"Thank you, Virginia … Nana. You're the best."

Virginia laughed.

"Thank you, dear. If only the rest of the world thought so."

CHAPTER 47: GINNY

Bellevue, Washington – Saturday, June 27, 1964

The journey from the front of the house to the back began with a stumble through the door. Steve grabbed Ginny and kept her from falling to the floor as they entered Fallingwater Light at eleven thirty-five. The house was as dark as a Montana mine.