Читать книгу All Our Tomorrows - Irene Hannon, Irene Hannon - Страница 10

As he was being introduced, David surveyed the students in the high school auditorium from his seat on the stage. Most looked bored and made no pretense of listening to Principal Charles Elliot’s comments. Others were scribbling in notebooks or staring into space. Out of the hundred or hundred-and-fifty juniors, David estimated that maybe ten percent were interested. It was about the same percentage he’d run into in many of the inner-city schools. But if this presentation went as well as previous ones, he expected that percentage would double or even triple. He couldn’t ask for more than that. Besides, they only had places for twenty-five students in the program this summer, anyway.

When the principal turned to him, David sent an encouraging glance to the two former Uplink students seated beside him, then rose and moved forward. He shook the man’s hand, pulled the microphone from its stand and came out from behind the podium. His stance was casual, his tone conversational, his attitude approachable.

“Good afternoon. As Mr. Elliot said, I’m David Sloan, the executive director of Uplink. With me today are two students who’ve participated in our program. For the next forty-five minutes, we’d like to talk with you about an opportunity that could change your life forever.”

With passion, conviction and enthusiasm, David explained the principles behind Uplink and spoke of the successes already documented by the program. The testimonials from the two students, who were now attending college on scholarships, were also powerful, making it clear that for committed students, Uplink opened doors to a future that would otherwise have been inaccessible. Neither they nor David made it sound easy, because it wasn’t. It took talent and dedication to get in, and the rigorous screening and ongoing evaluation process intimidated a lot of kids. Participation required guts and focus and lots of hard work. But for those who persevered, the rewards were great.

By the time they finished, David figured that a good twenty-five percent of the students in the audience had been captivated enough to at least pay attention. Not bad. If five or six ended up applying, he’d consider it a good day’s work.

They stayed around after the presentation ended in case any of the students wanted to speak with them one-on-one, but it didn’t surprise David when only a couple came forward. In North St. Louis, where drugs and gangs were rampant and academics wasn’t always valued or supported at home, few students would publicly acknowledge an interest in a program like Uplink. Those who decided to apply would follow up without fanfare, in confidence. David understood that and didn’t push. That first step took courage, and he considered it a good barometer of genuine interest.

As he thanked the two students who had accompanied him, David turned to find Charles Elliot approaching. The man took David’s hand in a firm grip.

“I appreciate your coming today. I expect you’ll hear from a few of the students.”

“I hope so. I understand that we’ve had a couple of students from here in the program every year since its inception.”

“That’s right. I’m a great believer in Uplink, and I talk it up whenever I get the chance. Can I walk you out?”

“Thanks.”

David reached for his leather jacket, which he’d slung over the back of his folding chair, and slid his arms into the sleeves as they headed toward the exit. The assembly had marked the end of the school day for the juniors, and they’d cleared out with a speed that rivaled a race car in the home stretch. The rest of the students had been dismissed ten or fifteen minutes earlier. The two men’s footsteps echoed hollowly as they walked down the long, deserted corridor toward the exit.

A classroom door opened as they passed, and a woman in a paint-spattered smock, her short black hair a mass of tight curls, spoke when she caught sight of them.

“Oh, Charles…I’m glad I caught you. Do you have a second to sign that exhibit application?”

“Of course.” He turned back to David in apology. “I’ll be right with you. Sylvia is the art teacher, and she’s trying to get some of our students’ work included in a traveling exhibition sponsored by a national company.”

“Take your time. I’m in no hurry.”

While he waited, David examined some of the artwork that hung in the hallway near the classroom door. A variety of mediums was represented, and many of the pieces were impressive. He stopped to examine a striking abstract watercolor, then moved on to a pen-and-ink sketch of a mother and child, caught by their poignant expressions of disillusionment. But it was the next series of three black-and-white photographs that mesmerized him.

The first was a portrait of an older woman wearing wire-rimmed glasses, her close-cropped black hair peppered with gray. She sat in front of a window, a bit off center, at a chipped, Formica table, one side of her face in sharp relief, the other shadowed. One work-worn hand rested on the Bible in her lap, the other lay beside a daffodil on the scratched surface of the table. Behind her, the paint on the walls was chipped, the windowsill scarred. Part of a calendar was visible, and the photograph of the month featured a quiet, peaceful country lane bordered by apple trees laden with blossoms. The photographer had titled the photo “Beauty.”

The next photo was just as powerful. Two small children in mismatched clothes sat on a concrete stoop. The low angle of the shot drew the eye upward, past the broken windows of a dingy tenement to the open expanse of sky above. The children’s raised faces were illuminated with an almost transcendent light as they gazed at the clouds drifting overhead. It bore the title “Imagine.”

The last picture also displayed a masterful use of light and a stellar aptitude for composition. There were no people visible in the shot. Just the shadow of a man, his hand extended toward another smaller shadow that was reaching up to him. The dark outlines stretched across a good part of the frame, covering the broken bottles and garbage that littered the foreground. They were poised at the base of a flight of steps that led upward and out of the frame to a higher, unknown and unseen place. The camera had caught them as they prepared to ascend. It was titled “Together.”

Though the images were stark and bleak at first glance, that wasn’t what caught David’s interest. While the subjects were different, they shared a powerful common theme—hope. Captured in a simple, but dramatic and symbolic style. David was overwhelmed.

Until Michael had discovered his talent for photography, David had never paid much attention to that art beyond the occasional fuzzy family snapshots his mother sometimes took. But as Michael pursued his passion, as he learned to work magic with a couple of lenses and the striking use of angle and light, David had learned to appreciate the potential and power of a camera in the hands of a master. Like the photographer of these images, Michael had had the ability to touch hearts, to communicate messages that continued to resonate long after people put the photo aside. It was a great gift, one that had allowed Michael to find his true calling. And the photographer of these photos seemed to share that gift.

“They’re pretty amazing, aren’t they?”

Charles had rejoined him, and David turned to the principal. “Amazing is an apt description. Were these done by a student?”

“Yes. Jared Poole. They were part of an art assignment for Sylvia’s junior class.”

Looking back at the photos, David shook his head. “I hope he plans to pursue his talent.”

When the other man didn’t respond, David turned toward him again. Charles’s face was troubled, and he gave a resigned sigh before he spoke. “Jared has some…problems. He got involved with a gang a couple of years ago, and he’s had some minor run-ins with the law. Nothing too serious—yet. But he’s headed in the wrong direction. Truancy has also been an issue. He has a lot to offer, including very strong writing skills, but he just doesn’t make school a priority.”

“That’s too bad. What’s the family situation like?” Since taking the job at Uplink, David had already learned that without support at home, there was little chance that problem students would buckle down at school.

“Not good. He lives with his grandmother. That’s her picture, in fact.” He indicated the photo of the woman with the Bible. “His father disappeared before he was born. His mother died of a drug overdose when Jared was about eight. It’s just been him and his grandmother ever since. I’ve met her, and I know she loves him very much. But she works nights, cleaning offices, so Jared is on his own a lot. The gang became a surrogate family for him. I’ve tried to talk to him, but I don’t think I’ve gotten through. I did hear through the grapevine that he’s trying to break his gang ties. But even if that’s true, it’s not easy to do.”

In his brief tenure at Uplink, David had heard any number of similar stories. They always left him feeling helpless, wishing he could do more. But he knew his limitations. He couldn’t take a personal interest in every troubled teenager he ran across. The best he could do was pour his heart and soul into Uplink and hope that his efforts would make a difference in at least a few lives.

Charles led the way toward the front door, sending David off with a firm handshake and another thank-you.

“Let me know if any of our students contact you. I’ll be glad to give you my thoughts on whether they’d make good candidates for Uplink,” he offered.

“I’ll do that.”

As David stepped outside, a gust of bitter March wind assaulted him, and he turned up his collar and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Late-afternoon shadows from the chainlink fence around the school slanted across the buckled sidewalk, and dilapidated buildings, crumbling concrete and rusty metal were all he could see in any direction. The place reeked of decay and despair.

But inside the building behind him, captured in those stark black-and-white photos, hope lived amidst the gloom and desperation around him. And as he walked to his car, he prayed that the young man who had captured it in those images would also find a way to incorporate it into his life.

A knock sounded on her office door, and Caroline looked up. “Come in, Tess. What’s up?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but Bruce was injured at school. Some scenery he was painting for the school play fell, and he needs a few stitches. Mitch is taking him to the hospital, and I’d like to meet them there.”

“Of course. You don’t need to ask permission. Just go.”

“The thing is, I was supposed to attend a presentation today by David Sloan at one of the high schools, and then interview him afterward at his office. That was the last interview I needed for the story. If I have to reschedule, I’ll miss the deadline.”

A few seconds of silence ticked by while Caroline considered her options. She could offer to do the interview and pass her notes on to Tess. They’d worked together doing research and interviews on a number of complex stories. But that meant she’d have to deal with David again. Or she could just reschedule the story. The home-schooling piece was finished and could be dropped into the Uplink slot with no problem. That would delay the Uplink story by a week, but they’d made no promises about when it would appear.

“Let’s reschedule,” Caroline decided.

“Okay. I’ll give him a call.”

The matter decided, Caroline went back to editing the next week’s edition—only to be interrupted again a few minutes later by Tess.

“Sorry to cause problems, Caroline. But David Sloan says he only has one more presentation, and it’s not for two weeks. If we put this off, we’ll have to push the story into mid-April.”

Not good. Caroline had only the home-schooling piece in reserve. If she used it for the next issue, they’d need the Uplink story for the following edition. Or else she’d have to scramble to come up with another meaty feature. All at once her options shrank.

“Okay. I’ll cover for you today.”

“Are you sure? I guess I could just let Mitch handle things at the hospital.”

Caroline heard the uncertainty in Tess’s voice and recalled the difficult time her assistant editor had had with her son just three years before, when she’d moved to St. Louis after losing her job due to downsizing at a small-town Missouri newspaper. She’d found a new life in St. Louis—and a new love in Mitch Jackson, who had helped her get her son back on the right path when he’d fallen in with the wrong group. Caroline understood Tess’s need to be present today.

“Go ahead. Don’t worry about it. Just give me the details and I’ll handle this. Emergencies happen.”

Gratitude filled the other woman’s eyes. “Have I told you lately that you’re a great boss?”

A flush crept up Caroline’s neck. “Hey, work is important but family comes first. Let David know I’ll be taking your place. Then get out of here.”

As she watched Tess make a hasty exit, Caroline thought about what she’d just said. She hadn’t always been as understanding about personal obligations. There had been a time when she’d put the highest priority on her work, on rising through the ranks of journalism to nab a top spot. A time when she’d looked with disdain on those who put their personal life ahead of getting the story. Then she’d met Michael. Committed to his work, passionate about truth, he’d nevertheless had perspective, recognizing the critical importance of balance. He’d worked hard, but he’d also made time for other things—and for people.

In retrospect, Caroline had often wondered if he’d known at some unconscious level that his stay on earth would be brief. It was as if he had been driven to savor each second, to suck every drop of sweetness from each moment, to treat each new day as a gift, as an opportunity to learn and to grow and to become a better person. That attitude had carried over to his work, compelling him to portray even the most horrible circumstances with empathy and compassion. Even images that had made her cringe in their rawness had been infused with humanity. And in his portraits, he always captured the essence of those he photographed, putting a face on tragedy in a way that touched people and softened even the most cynical hearts. That had been his gift.

With Michael, Caroline had learned to see with new eyes. And to forge a new perspective, one that recognized the importance of love and relationships. It was a lesson she never wanted to forget. And the situation with Tess was just one way she’d been able to put that philosophy into action.

Unfortunately, it also put her in the line of fire. She didn’t relish another encounter with David. But she was a professional. She’d treat this just like any other interview. And when she was finished, there’d be no reason for their paths to cross again. Tess would write the article, the Chronicle would run it and Uplink would have the publicity it had sought.

End of story.

As the principal did the introductions, David scanned the crowd. He’d gotten Tess’s message just as he walked out the door of his office, so he knew Caroline would be in the audience instead of the assistant editor. And he had mixed feelings about that.

Even though his primary purpose in going to the Chronicle had been to give her the medallion and to apologize, he’d also hoped to discover that her captivating charm had lessened. Instead, he’d found that the opposite was true. And he still had no logical explanation for it. All he knew was that his safest course was to steer clear of her in the future. That’s why he hadn’t been all that keen on contacting her about the Uplink story. But at least that had been by phone. He hadn’t had to look into those appealing hazel eyes. And he’d figured that would be the end of it.

Now she was in the audience. Afterward, she’d come back to his office to do an interview. And despite all of the rational reasons why her presence was bad, he couldn’t stop the sudden rush of happiness and anticipation that swept through his heart, like an unexpected, glorious burst of sun streaming through the clouds on a gray, overcast day.

She wasn’t hard to pick out. Her hair would give her away in any crowd, but especially here, where the glints of copper shimmered in the bright overhead light, and her fair complexion stood out in the sea of ebony faces. He watched as she withdrew a notebook from her large shoulder bag and flipped it open, then settled back in her seat in the last row and looked toward the stage. When their gazes connected, he gave her a welcoming smile. Her lips turned up just the slightest bit in response before she shifted her attention to the principal, who was just about to introduce David. And he better get focused, too, David reminded himself. He needed to concentrate on the presentation and forget about Caroline for the next forty-five minutes.

It wasn’t easy to switch gears, but once he started talking, his focus became absolute, as it always did. No matter how often he gave this talk, his enthusiasm for the program and his passion for the principles it represented came through loud and clear.

None of which was lost on Caroline. Though she’d had only a few minutes to prep, she’d given the material Tess had collected and her assistant editor’s notes from previous interviews a cursory review. She’d been impressed by Uplink and what it had accomplished in a short time, and she was just as impressed by David’s sincerity and obvious commitment to the program. His presentation was dynamic and engaging, and she noticed as he spoke that a number of students who had at first seemed disinterested began to pay closer attention.

By the time he and the Uplink students he’d brought along had finished, the boredom and cynicism in the audience had shifted toward respect and interest. She’d learned enough about the North St. Louis high school environment while working on her gang series to know that David’s accomplishment was no small feat. Outsiders were typically viewed with suspicion. And Caucasian outsiders were often viewed with hostility. But there had been an appreciable change in the mood in the auditorium. Caroline was impressed.

As the presentation wound down and the students were dismissed, Caroline gathered up her things, rose and slipped on her coat. She waited by the back door as David said a few words to the two Uplink students, shook hands with the principal then made his way toward her.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” he said as he drew close.

“It wasn’t a problem. Tess and I have worked together on other stories.”

“She said her son had been injured?”

“I don’t think it’s anything serious. It sounded like he might need a few stitches. But she had some problems with him a few years ago, and now she tries extra hard to be there for him.”

“That’s commendable. I wish more parents felt that way. Especially parents of students like these.”

“I know. I did a series a year or so ago on gang culture, about the power gangs exert over their members and how gangs become a surrogate family in the absence of a real one. The problem of uninvolved parents is very real. And not just in this part of town.”

“It makes you wonder why some people have kids, if they aren’t willing to take on the responsibilities of parenthood.”

“Mitch Jackson, Tess’s husband, could give you an earful on that subject. He’s the principal at one of the high schools in a pretty affluent area of the city. His stories about uninvolved parents are unbelievable.”

David shook his head. “Throw in a cycle of poverty and a culture that doesn’t value education, and the problem is only exacerbated. It’s an uphill battle, that’s for sure. But at least Uplink is trying to offer a few kids a way out.” The somber expression on his face gave way to a grin. “But I’m done lecturing for today. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes.”

As they exited the auditorium and walked down the hall toward the front door, Caroline reached into her bag for her keys.

“Where are you parked?” David asked.

“Just down the street.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Yes, I do. This isn’t the best area of town.”

As they stepped through the door, Caroline gave him a wry glance. “I’ve been in worse places.”

True, David mused, recalling Caroline’s quick summary of her career when he’d inquired, shortly after they met. Two years on the crime beat for a paper in Atlanta, three years in Washington, D.C., covering politics, then domestic and European assignments for AP before being stationed in a hot zone in the Middle East. How had Michael managed to live with the knowledge that the woman he loved was putting herself in danger day in and day out?