A Ship Made of Paper

room.Ferguson sits on the edge ofMarie’s bed, dressed in work pants, a frayed white shirt, while she dips a comb into a glass ofwater and grooms him.“Hey, take it easy,”he says, as she rakes the comb through his hair, but she is deter-mined to bring his unruly mop under control.She combs his hair straight back and when she finally finishes, Ferguson stands up and walks stiff-leggedly to the window, where he sees his faint reflection swimming in the old wavy glass.“Great,”he says.“Now I look like a Mexican.”

“I doubt it,”says Marie.She kisses his forehead.“IfI help you save Eight Chimneys…”

“I’ll be forever in your debt,”Ferguson says.

”That’s sort ofwhat I’m counting on.It’ll put us on the same level.I won’t be poor little Marie, I’ll be the girl who saved you.”

When the party is in full swing, Marie plans to make a little speech.

She wants to thank everyone for coming and to give a briefoverview of the Eight Chimneys Project, which is what she is now calling the plan to turn the house into a historical site.Ferguson has come to her room, however, not only to kiss her, and to walk with her down to the old ball-room, but to talk her out ofmaking her speech.Susan must not be over-shadowed in that way, it will be humiliating to her, and that would be unkind and even a little dangerous.But now that he is with Marie he finds that he doesn’t have the heart to tell her not to address the guests.

She deserves the credit and she deserves the recognition.And the per-sonal significance that this afternoon must hold for Marie has suddenly become touchingly clear to him.What a triumph, what a turn ofevents, what a change offortune.Here, after all, is a girl who was raised by one ofthe estate’s old servants, a girl whom destiny seemed to have marked for a life ofutter insignificance.How could anyone with a heart interfere with her moment ofglory?I’ll stand next to Susan while Marie makes her speech,he thinks.Maybe I’ll put my arm around her.

“Are you ready?”he asks Marie.

She touches her throat, and then the pearl necklace that Susan and Ferguson gave her on her sixteenth birthday.She is dressed in an oatmeal-colored woolen suit.It seems like something women wear to the office.Ferguson has no idea how she chooses her clothes;he’s meant to ask her but it keeps slipping his mind.

“Do I look all right?”she asks.

”You’re beautiful.You make me very, very happy.”

She seems truly surprised by his tenderness.He rarely says sweet things to her ifthey aren’t in bed—in fact, the best part ofsleeping with him is getting to hear that gentle voice.

“I wish Dad were here,”she says.

”I do, too, honey,”says Ferguson.“I really do.Now let’s go down there and shock the hell out ofeverybody.”

Marie stops in her tracks.“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.Nothing.I have no idea why I said that.Fumes from the lead paint on these old walls.”He links his arm through hers and steers her through the doorway.

Ferguson and Marie come down just as State Senator Phil Russell joins the party.Russell is a stocky, ravenous man, dressed in a brown suit.Thirty years ago, he was a football star at Sacred Heart, aWindsor County Catholic high school, and his chin, nose, and forehead still show the scars ofhis three years on the offensive line.He surveys the room with wary eyes—this bastion ofthe faded aristocracy is not on his regu-lar beat.Russell runs on the Republican and the Right to Life tickets;he has been warned by his staffthat while the Richmonds’Republican roots are deep, Ferguson and Susan are at the end ofthe line and their house is a gathering place for eccentrics and flakes.

As Ferguson and Marie make their way toward Russell, Susan swoops him up and escorts him over to meet Daniel.By now, forty or fifty people have shown up, but not Iris, and Daniel is trying to keep his composure.

“Daniel, I’m sure you know Phil Russell,”Susan says.“Mr.Russell,

Daniel Emerson has agreed to act as our attorney in this whole business.

Isn’t that nice ofhim?”

For a moment, Daniel wonders ifSusan is somehow under the impression that he’s not going to bill them, but then he realizes this is merely her manner.

“Nice to see you,”Russell says, squeezing Daniel’s hand, his shoulder.

“What a wonderful party.”

“It certainly is,”Daniel says.He has found a place to stand near the center ofthe room where he can feel the cool draft whenever the front door opens, so he knows when new people have arrived.He feels the flutter ofthe breeze on his pant legs, but when he looks past Russell he sees Upton Douglas, a portly, white-haired real estate broker, swinging his way in on a pair ofyellow crutches.Douglas was knocked to the ground by a falling branch during the October storm and he broke his leg in four places.They’ve known each other casually for years, and when Douglas sees Daniel staring at him he smiles.

Daniel suddenly notices that Phil Russell is looking oddly at him, and Daniel quickly says,“It’ll be great to see this old place brought back to its former glory.”

“It’s really something,”Russell says.He has been taking in his surroundings and his eyes are registering some alarm.Eight Chimneys’ derelict state unnerves him, it seems to suggest a kind ofmadness.“What do you think the square footage is in this place?”

“I don’t think houses like thishavesquare footage.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”He smooths his shirt over his cinderblock stomach.“It’s going to take a lot more than state historic money to put this puppy back on its hindquarters again.We’re going to have to think about the Fed, and private donations.”He smiles his high school hero smile.“But that’s okay, we’re going to make it happen because it’s the right thing to do.”

Daniel sees Kate across the room, talking with noticeable animation to a man in his fifties, a writer from the city named Barry Braithwaite.Braith-waite, a small, sickly man with bloodshot eyes and yellowed fingers, has written several articles about O.J.Simpson, mostly concentrating on the sociopathology ofthe coddled athlete.Kate has her hand on his shoulder and whispers something in Braithwaite’s ear.Braithwaite tucks his chin in and looks at her with considerable amazement, as ifshe has just made the most transgressive remark he has ever heard, and then he laughs.

Just then, Derek Pabst comes in, dressed in a dark-brown suit, a yellow shirt, and brown tie.He looks uneasy as he sways in the entrance to the ball-room, squeezing his large hands together, rolling his broad shoulders, and casting his eyes around for a familiar face.It is not that Derek is a stranger to the people here, but most ofthem are too wealthy and too grand to be a part ofhis social life.He has issued them speeding tickets, brought them sad news about missing dogs and cats, shot rabid raccoons on their porches, been in their homes after break-ins, and even responded to a couple ofdo-mestic abuse calls, but drinking wine and chatting with this collection of doctors, lawyers, academics, writers, and the idle well-to-do on a Sunday afternoon in a mansion by the river is outside his usual experience.When he sees Daniel across the room, his face lights up with relief.

“Hello, good buddy,”he says, grabbing Daniel’s elbow.

”Hello, Derek,”Daniel says.He is about to ask,What are you doing

here?but he stops himself.

Derek looks around, taking in his surroundings.“You hear all these rumors about what this place is like on the inside, but it’s not so bad, not like I thought.”

“Derek Pabst,”Daniel says.“This is Phil Russell.”

Russell puts his hand out and Derek shakes it, but he is clearly distracted.

“Is Kate here?”he asks.

”She’s over there.What about Stephanie?”

“She’s home with Chelsea.”Derek peers around the room.“Where’s Kate.I actually need to talk to her.”He senses the confusion in Daniel’s eyes.“I’ve got a little more information about those runaway kids from Star ofBethlehem, I know she’s concerned.”He suddenly sees her.

”There she is.”He smooths his tie against his shirt.“I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Derek is gone, Russell looks at his watch.“Point Mary Thorne out for me, will you?”he asks Daniel.“She’s the one who sent us the invitation.”

“Marie.She’s right over there, come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Russell repeats the name softly to himself, committing it to memory.

As they make their way to the other side ofthe ballroom, Daniel looks for Ruby, who is suddenly not in sight.By