Sex Change: A Nina Bannister Mystery (The Nina Bannister Mysteries Book 6) (13 page)

A tall woman dressed in a navy suit and wearing a gold scarf came to the microphone.

The microphone squealed out across the crowd, which seemed vast to Nina.

She surveyed it, spread out behind her, moving restlessly, chanting and gesturing and laughing and cursing and drinking and attempting, completely unsuccessfully because of the density of the group, to play Frisbee.

“My fellow Americans…”

Squeal squeal squeal…

Settle down crowd, settle down crowd…

“My fellow Americans, my name is Cynthia Dodsworthy, and I am the junior senator from Oregon.”

Cheers.

Clapping.

Boos.

Shouting.
   

Dogs howling.

From somewhere, a roman candle shooting upward, exploding, then fading out into a dozen or so smoking snake trails across the now purple sky.

“I have the honor of introducing tonight’s featured speaker.”

“A proper introduction for her, on any normal occasion, might take several minutes, or even longer. But this is hardly a normal occasion. And so, I’m simply going to ask her to come up here. Ladies and gentlemen, Senator Laurencia Dalrymple!”

Wild cheering.

And Laurencia, dressed all in red and wearing an African print scarf, unprepossessing, hardly tall or statuesque…

…but standing behind a wonderful smile and peering out over an adoring audience…

Laurencia spoke into the microphone, which, awed by her, quieted down immediately.

Everyone quieted down.

It was as though a good principal—and Nina knew this because she had been a good principal—had stepped into the center of the crowded gym floor before third period and stood there, arms folded, saying soundlessly:

“Be quiet. Now.”

And so where there had been barking and yowling and arguing and screaming and cursing and flirting and airplane-droning and Frostie wagon jingling and humanity howling…

…there was now only the scarcely perceptible fall of cherry blossom pollen.

So that Laurencia could begin.

“We are all gathered here,
Sisters
and
Brothers
, on this extraordinary night, because one woman, yesterday afternoon, had the courage to say
no
.”

Thousand one thousand two…

Wild cheering.

The moon broadened its smile and, at least some observers swear, rocked back and forth slightly in its hole in the sky.

After a few years silence again covered the crowd.

“And with that
no
,’ the Lissie Movement officially began!”

More wild cheering.

The moon remained stationary, having come to its senses and recognized the impropriety of its previous movement.

Silence having returned…

“What an extraordinary twenty four hours! Have there been a similar twenty-four hours in the history of this great city, of this splendid Mall on which we find ourselves assembled? Have there been? Ever?”

“NO! NO! NO! NO!”

And Laurencia, shaking her head, playing the emotion, working the crowd:

“NO NO NO, I agree and I agree and I agree and who could NOT agree? Who could look out across this field of Lissiedom and NOT agree? No one! And so, my gentle Sisters and Brothers, it remains for me now to admit my tardiness. Yes, yes, many of you were here before me. But I have arrived. And I know what I must do, this very moment!”

So saying, in one infinitely graceful and sweeping gesture, she removed her red suit coat, removed her scarf, reached into a cardboard box that had sat unnoticed behind her…

…then took out a black Lissie t-shirt and put it on over her white blouse.

And somewhere a brass band started playing.

Nina looked around; she could not see it.

But what could she see, in this vast and milling sea of people?

The band must have been set up half a mile away.

But someone in the Lissie Party understood acoustics.

For here came the trumpets and the trombones.

The melody: “It’ll be a hot time in the old town tonight!”

CHEER CHEER CHEER

FOR THE WOMAN OF THE YEAR!

I TELL YOU…

CHEER CHEER CHEER

FOR THE WOMAN OF THE YEAR!

And so on and so on.

For at least a minute.

Laurencia, arms straight above her head, shouting and dancing and grinning and pointing at the shirt, and at the silhouette of Lysistrata.

Finally, the song died down; Laurencia got her breath, and continued:

“I will tell you the truth. I do not know where Nina Bannister is right now…”

She’s right here
, thought Nina.

“…but in a larger sense, I do know. She is here, just as sure as all of us are here.”

Okay
, thought Nina,
so maybe I was right after all.

“Her spirit fills all of us, and her
no
rings continually in our ears.”

Cheering.

Stop cheering!

Cheering stopped.

“But the beautiful thing is, that
no
has turned into a
yes
. That
no
has been what our senators and representatives have been saying to each other for the last year, the last years, the last decades—with the result that we now have a paralyzed government, incapable of compromise, and thus incapable of basic humanity!”

“I know
that’s
right!”

“Yes!”

“Tell ‘em!”

“You tell em about it!”

“Uhh huh! Uhh huh!”

“That’s my Sister! That’s my Sister!”

“But the
yes
it’s turned into—and in the wink of an eye, so incredibly fast does it seem—is the Lissie Movement!”

Band.

CHEER CHEER CHEER

FOR THE WOMAN OF THE YEAR!

…for another chorus or so.

Now the principal again.

Hands in the air.

Quieten down, students.

Or nobody goes to lunch.

“Now, there has been some confusion concerning what the Lissie Movement actually is, and what it hopes to accomplish. Since Lissies have only existed for a little more than twenty-four hours, that may be understandable.”

General laughter.

“But perhaps now, I can clarify. First The Lissie Movement cannot, at this stage of the election cycle, hope to become a legitimate third party. All of us who are Republicans or Democrats or Unitarians should remain so and be proud of the fact. But what the Lissie Movement is, is a social action that has at its heart and soul one basic idea, one basic goal: namely that women should begin to play a larger role in the running of this great country, and they do so beginning this November!”

“Yes!”

“YES!”
      

“LISSIE FOREVER!”

“We have an entire summer in front of us as well as September and October. Seventeen senate seats are contested; but one hundred and sixty nine seats are up for grabs. One hundred and sixty nine. And, my brothers and sisters, even though each party may have chosen tentative candidates for those seats by now—NOTHING IS IN STONE! There is no legal reason why, given campaigns run with energy and strength and intelligence and passion—a hundred new women cannot be elected to Congress this very November. Yes. Yes, it could happen!”

“Tell em!”

“Tell em more!”

“Now, there is this little matter of July 4.”

General laughter.

“And I know that it might be worrying some of you women. Newlyweds especially. The rest probably don’t care any more.”

“That’s right!”

“You tell em!”

“They’re dogs! All men are dogs!”

“They’re pigs! All men are pigs!”

Why,
Nina asked herself again,
can’t we get this thing straight between us?

“Well, I’m going to go on record now as stating that I am not in favor of a sex strike, and I don’t see why we have to have one.”

Stunned silence.

A few voices:

“We want the strike!”

“WE WANT THE STRIKE!”

“LET THE DOGS/PIGS (approximately equal numbers of each animal being shouted out) GO WITHOUT!”

But Laurencia Dalrymple simply smiled and said:

“I don’t see why we have to have one at all. As I say, we’re trying to elect one hundred new women to congress this November. Now, if by July 4, let’s say, forty, have been placed on ballots around the country—why, we don’t have a problem. Let’s all take those men to bed and show them a good time!”

Wild laughter at this.

“But…”

More voices.

“Uhhh huh!”

“Uhhh huh!”

“
Now
I hear you!
Now
I hear you!”

“But if we don’t have that many women on the ballot. Well, I believe that in the play that Congresswoman Bannister was kind enough to teach us about, the women all came together in the Acropolis. And woe to any man who tried to get in there! We don’t have an acropolis—but we have gymnasiums in every town in America!”

“Yes we do!”

“Yes we do!”

“And we don’t need to call it a sex strike. That is so harsh, so vulgar. So we’ll just give it a good name right now. As of right now, it is the July 4 Slumber Party sponsored by the Worldwide Movement of Lissie International!”

Wild cheering.

I can’t believe this is happening
, thought Nina.

What else can happen?

She was wondering what else could happen, when it did.

Laurencia continued:

“When Dr. King wrote his
Letter from a Birmingham Jail,
he ended it by saying, ‘I can’t believe I have written so long a letter.’ Now the reason Dr. King wrote ‘so long a letter,’ as you all know, is that he was in jail.”