Shadows at the Spring Show (23 page)

The Chinese food (and the green tea) were excellent, and the men from the rental company were experienced in covering floors. Not even Mike had any complaints, although he did check the corners of the flooring a few times. Somehow the need for miles of duct tape had escaped Maggie’s mind, so Will borrowed her van and came back with a carton full. The measuring and marking went faster than Maggie had hoped; Claudia and Eric had paired up and seemed to have no problems following Maggie’s floor plans. By three o’clock the flooring people had left and the booth dimensions were laid out in one of the two gyms. George Healy’s electricians had arrived and were already installing heavy-duty wires and outlets for the booths.

Maggie felt torn. After the electricians arrived, someone
needed to be with them, and that slowed down the measuring that had been going so well in the second gym.

Al stopped in often to bring coffee and moral support. And Diet Pepsi, when Claudia wasn’t looking.

“If we can do the second gym as quickly as the first,” Will said, standing up and stretching, “then we can begin to think of a dinner a little more formal than the two remaining Dunkin’ Donuts Al has dangerously supplied.”

“Hmm . . . and maybe even a glass of wine,” said Maggie. “After moo shu pork and jelly doughnuts, right now I don’t even want to think about food.” Her back muscles were tight. Bending and stretching were not movements she did every day.

Things she ought to do this summer:

Buy prints.

Mat prints.

Do shows.

Make money.

Visit Gussie and Will.

Have fun!

Exercise.

Claudia would have added, “Stop drinking Diet Pepsi!” The head of her division at Somerset County College would have added, “Develop new course for American Studies curriculum!” Will would have added . . .

This was her list. No one else’s.

“What we need is one more body,” said Will. “You or I should be with the electricians to make sure they understand your notes. They’re great guys, but I don’t think they have the concept of separate booths down quite yet.”

“The last time I was in that gym,” Maggie agreed, “they’d put all the outlets for three booths in one location. The dealers will be covering all of the outlets with tables and furniture, and most of them won’t be bringing cords long enough to get their power from three booths away.”

“Not to mention what the dealer who has that booth will
think if people keep coming in to thread cords through his area.”

The room was quiet, so when newcomers arrived they were easy to locate. Maggie looked down the gym to where Eric and Claudia were measuring booths. They’d been joined by two more people.

“I think our solution may have just walked through the door,” said Maggie. “I’ll be right back.”

She headed for the four in the corner. “Abdullah,” she said, greeting the young men. “And, Hal! You’re not due here until tomorrow afternoon.”

“I know,” Abdullah admitted. “But I had nothing much to do, and I was driving downtown, saw Hal, and stopped to give him a lift. We decided to check and see if we could help with anything today.”

“We would love some help!” said Maggie. “Do you both know Claudia Hall and Eric Sloane?”

Abdullah nodded; Hal shook his head. “Hal, this is Eric Sloane and Claudia Hall. And we could definitely use your help.”

Carole had said Hal didn’t have many friends, and Hunter had said the same about Abdullah. It would be great if they’d found each other. And they had a lot in common: they’d both lost family members recently.

She focused on the tasks at hand.

“We’re measuring out the dimensions of the booths. The dealers have paid to rent booths of different sizes, so they can best display their particular antiques. Right now we’re marking the corners of the booths. After we finish, the electricians are putting power where it’s needed, and tomorrow we’ll be moving tables into the booths.”

“So what can we do to help?”

“Come with me.” Maggie led them toward where Will was standing, several booths away. “Will, this is Abdullah, one of my students, and Hal, who lives with Carole Drummond’s family. They’ve volunteered to help us.”

“How do you do?” Abdullah said politely as Will put out his hand.

Hal nodded.

“Will Brewer is an antiques dealer from Buffalo and a friend of mine. Will, since you understand my scribbling, would you mind taking the charts and going to keep an eye on what the electricians are doing in the other gym? I’ll explain what we’re doing in here and let Abdullah and Hal take over measuring the booths. That will leave me free to keep an eye on the overall setup.” And get me up off the floor, Maggie thought to herself. Her knees and back were still cramped. Age!

“We’d be happy to measure the booths,” said Abdullah. “Just show us what needs to be done.”

“An excellent plan,” Will said. “Maggie, would you come with me for a moment to make sure I understand what you want?” He turned back to Abdullah. “I’ll have her back in a second.”

They walked toward the other gym. “Is that the kid you told me lost someone in the World Trade Center?”

“His brother. Yes. The man who called this morning said he seemed lonely. I was surprised when he came in with Hal. They’re both scheduled to help tomorrow.”

“And who’s Hal?”

“Hal Hanson. He was adopted when he was about ten, and his parents died in a horrible home fire last winter. He’s staying with Carole Drummond, the head of OWOC, until he’s ready to live on his own.”

“Two young men who’ve had a lot of loss in their lives,” said Will. “Well, whoever they are, I’m glad they’re on board.” Will gave Maggie a quick hug. “You look exhausted, and I drove most of the past forty-eight hours. The more help we get and the sooner we can finish up, the better.”

“Especially since we’ll have more to do tomorrow,” agreed Maggie. “Plus setting up our own booths. At most shows that’s exhausting enough.” She handed him the clipboard she’d left for
the electricians to use as reference. “If you have any questions about my notes, just holler.”

Maggie headed back to the gym where Abdullah was already down on his hands and knees while Hal looked carefully at the chart of booth locations Maggie and Will had been using.

“Am I reading this correctly? This booth is ten feet deep, and sixteen feet long. And we’re marking the corners of the spaces with duct tape.” Hal smiled shyly. It was the first time Maggie had remembered seeing him smile.

“You’ve got it,” said Maggie. The rest of the afternoon was going to go much better than she’d imagined.

The young men spent the next two hours crawling on their hands and knees, stopping to measure, then to cut and tear off lengths of duct tape. Maggie walked in and out of the two gyms, consulting when someone had trouble reading her charts, and improvising when her notes didn’t make perfect sense. The time went quickly.

“Everything okay?” called Al from the door to the lobby.

She looked at her watch. It was after five, and Al was still here. “This isn’t the night you have to stay, Al!” She walked over to him, shaking her head.

“Oh, I decided I’d just order some pizza and stay tonight, too.”

“You think someone might try to break in now?”

“I’m not sure what I’m worried about, Maggie. Everything looks good so far. You’re ahead of schedule, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “We’ve almost finished measuring the second gym. Two extra helpers stopped in, and they’ve been a great help.”

“The young Middle Eastern–looking man and the blond?”

“Abdullah and Hal. Bright young men. I just learned this week Abdullah lost a brother in 9/11. He’s volunteered to help out with the whole show. And so has Hal. He was adopted through OWOC.”

“Was Abdullah adopted, too?”

Maggie looked at him. “I don’t know. Why?”

“To volunteer so much of his own time, these young people must really believe in adoption.” Al frowned a bit. “I’ve met Abdullah before, I think. Wasn’t he the one who dropped out of school after 9/11, when someone spray painted ‘Muslim Killers’ on his home? His mother came here to the college to complain. She was sure one of our students was responsible. But she didn’t know who. She said the local police weren’t doing anything about it.”

“How awful! I knew there were incidents against Muslims after 9/11, but I didn’t know there were any here.”

“They kept it pretty quiet. I asked around, but couldn’t come up with anything. I remember the mother though. A pretty blonde lady who was having a rough time. One son murdered by terrorists, and then the other son accused of terrorism.”

“I can imagine.” Maggie hesitated. “I heard Abdullah’s mother killed herself.”

“I didn’t know that!” Al looked past Maggie into the gym where Abdullah was taping the inside corner of one of the booths. “Poor kid. He has had a rough time. I’m glad he’s back in school.”

“I’m glad he decided to come and help us; maybe he’ll make new friends.” Maggie turned toward the other gym, then turned back.

“Al, did you say Abdullah’s mother was blonde?”

“Yup. Lots of curls, too.”

“Then she wasn’t Saudi?”

“No, I don’t think so. I asked about her husband, and she sort of fudged around. I don’t think she was married. But she did say the father of her sons was Saudi. They’d met in college. She didn’t mention working, and she stopped in during the day. I sort of assumed the guy in Saudi Arabia was supporting them.”

Maggie nodded. “That’s interesting.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got to see how Will is doing. The electricians should be leaving about now.”

As if on cue, Will came out into the lobby. “I thought I heard my lady out here. The electricians are cleaning up for the day. That gym is wired, Maggie.”

“Great! They’ll just have the second gym to do in the morning, and we’ve almost finished the taping.”

“Claudia ordered all that Chinese food for lunch. If you’ll let me contribute, why don’t I order pizza for all of us for dinner,” said Al. “You two, and me, and Claudia and the three young men. We’re all tired and I suspect the young people could use some sustenance.”

Will and Maggie looked at each other. Earlier they’d thought of something a bit more special. But now they were both exhausted. And Gussie and Ben had the steak to eat at home.

Maggie voiced Will’s thoughts, too. “Maybe pizza would be good for all of us. That’s kind of you, Al.”

“I’m not that altruistic,” said Al. “I’m starving, too. I’ll go ahead and order several pizzas with different toppings. The pizzeria should be able to deliver within half an hour or so.”

“Why don’t you walk through the gym I’ve been working in to make sure everything is the way you want it, Maggie,” Will said. “I’ll go and deliver the good news that pizza is on its way and see how the rest of the crew is doing.”

Maggie walked through the first gym quickly. All was in order: booth boundaries marked on the floor, and electrical power outlets in the booths that had paid extra for it. So far, so good; they’d finish marking off the booths in the second gym, and then everyone could go home and get a good night’s rest.

Except for Al, who was sleeping here.

Right now it looked as though all the planning was paying off.

The setup was on target. Nothing unexpected had happened. The police were no doubt right: threats were nothing unless actions followed them.

By the time she got back to the lobby she felt much more relaxed. It seemed everyone else did, too. The pizza was on its
way, and Eric and Will were sitting on the floor and chatting quietly, while Claudia was walking through the gym, picking up pieces of tape and paper that had fallen on the floor. Abdullah just stood, stretching a bit, watching the others. Hal was checking his watch. Maybe he had to be back at Carole’s at a certain time.

“Your help has made the work go so much faster this afternoon,” said Maggie. “Hal, I saw you looking at your watch. If you need to go somewhere, please, go ahead. Although we’d love for you to stay and have pizza. And help us finish this room!” She touched Hal’s arm lightly.

“I’m happy to help out. I don’t have any other plans for right now.”

Maggie nodded. “Great! And, Abdullah, I’ve been meaning to ask you . . . I’m grateful, but why did you volunteer to help with this antiques show? Most students don’t want to spend their vacation time on campus!”

“Adoption is a good thing,” Abdullah said.

“A lot of people think so,” Maggie said carefully, thinking of the threatening letters and telephone call. “Especially when they’re involved with adoption in some way. Like Eric, over there with Will. He’s adopted, you know. And Hal, you were adopted.”

“Yes.”

“And I’m thinking about adopting a child.”

Abdullah looked at her. “I wondered if you were. Why else would someone do so much work for an adoption organization?”

“Maybe because, even if I decide not to adopt, I’m impressed by everything OWOC does. They help children all over the world come home to families who want them. That’s a wonderful purpose for an organization.”

“Children who don’t have families can be in difficult situations. Or they can be well cared for by institutions,” said Abdullah.

“Organizations and institutions may be well meaning, but
they can’t always give the individual attention and love that children need and deserve.”

“But to do that families must understand the individual needs of the children,” added Hal.

“Exactly!” Maggie nodded. “If you don’t mind my asking—were you adopted, Abdullah?”

“No!” His voice was louder than necessary. “Do I look as though I were adopted?”

“You can’t tell someone is adopted by looking at them,” said Maggie. “I just wondered whether you had ties to adoption, since you were taking so much time to help us.” Abdullah looked uncomfortable, and Maggie felt bad for pressing the issue just to satisfy her own curiosity.

“Pizza’s here!” called Al from the door of the gym.

They sat on the lobby floor and focused on who wanted plain slices, and who wanted mushrooms and onions. Important issues. Issues that could be resolved.

Al’s phone rang once.

He walked away as he answered it.