He looked at her intently, his curiosity reviving. 'You're planning something in that convoluted pixie mind of yours.' “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 stronger 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.
Now Margot stirred, moving closer to Alex, then said softly, 'What kind of a mind was it that you said I had?' 'Convoluted-pixie.' 'That's bad? Or good?'
'It's good for me. Refreshing. And most of the time I like the causes that you work for.' 'But not all the time?' 'No, not always.' 'Sometimes the things I do create antagonism. Lots of Suppose the antagonism was about something you n't believe in, or disliked? Suppose our names were linked together at a time like that, when you wouldn't want to be associated with me?'
'I'd learn to live with it. Besides, I'm entitled to a private life, and so are you.'
'So is any woman,' Margot said. 'But I wonder sometimes if you really could live with it. That’s if we were together all the time. I wouldn't change, you know; you have to understand that, Alex darling I couldn't surrender independence, nor ever stop being myself and talking initiatives.'
He thought of Celia who had taken no initiatives, ever, and how he had wished she would. And he remembered, as always with remorse, what Celia had become. He had learned something from her though: That no man h whole unless the woman he loves is free, and knows the use of freedom, exploiting it in fulfillment of herself.
Alex dropped his hands to Margot's shoulders. Through a thin silk nightgown he could sense the fragrant warmth of her, feel the softness of her flesh. He said gently, 'It's the way you are that's the way I love and want you. If you changed, I'd hire some other lady lawyer and sue for breach of loving.'
His hands left her shoulders, moving slowly, caressingly lower. He heard her breathing quicken; a moment later she turned to him, urgent and gasping. 'What the hell are we waiting for?'' 'God knows,' he said. 'Let's go to bed.'
3
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.'
It was a mixed group, she could see, about two thirds women, with a preponderance of blacks. Many of the women were accompanied by children. Among the men, some were in coveralls, appearing as if they had left their jobs or were on the way to them. Others were in casual clothing, a few well dressed.
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.'
