Chapter 18: The Stakes

Meredith

THE WEEKEND was not what I had hoped for. I thought I would meet Liam at the Rathskeller and have a nice night out. We would walk back to campus and I would drive out to Buxton House. And perhaps I would allow another kiss. Just one. Or two. One taste and I was already addicted.

But strikers pulled me off the street and held me hostage. For a few minutes. Then Liam had burst in like a knight in shining armor and nobly offered himself in exchange for me. The idiot! Didn’t he know a Leader was worth any number of Advisors? No. Of course not. To Liam, all people were worth the same. That was what made him a Leader. No other course of action would have been right.

I put him in this situation. I should have been more careful. Walked with a group instead of alone.

I made a call that was sitting on my list of things he needed. Food for hundreds of strikers.

“David Winzar’s residence. This is Jonathan. How may I help you?” Ah, so the Winzar also had a personal assistant.

“Hello, Jonathan. This is Meredith Sauvage. I’m Liam Cyning’s personal assistant and wonder if I might have a word with Mr. Winzar.”

“Of course, Miss Sauvage. I’ll get David.” I waited only a moment for David Winzar to come on the line.

“What a delight to meet you again, Meredith. How may I help you?”

“Do we know each other?”

“Meredith Sauvage, beautiful redhead assistant to Liam Cyning, efficiently cutting through the crowds of admirers and keeping him in tow.”

“Where have we met?”

“The party at Gamma Delta house. I’m sorry it was a brief introduction and I only gave my name as David. Now you know my secret,” he laughed. “I was trying to stay out of reach of the queen bee, so sadly I was unable to meet Liam.”

“I remember. You were there and then gone. I believe you were the only gentleman present.”

“I have other affections and try not to make an ass of myself in public. How can I help you today?”

“Liam has got himself into a bit of a bind and is calling on you as an independent Leader for assistance. Have you heard that he is being held hostage by the striking shoe workers?”

“No, I hadn’t. Do I need to go negotiate a release?”

“Nothing like that. He is, I believe, doing the negotiating. But the workers on the picket line are suffering. We’ve sent over sacks of carrots and apples anonymously, but the workers really need food. I thought perhaps you might know of a pizza delivery service that you could convince to send a hundred pizzas to the workers,” I said. I couldn’t simply ask him to buy a hundred pizzas, though I knew he probably would.

“I see. Things are that bad? I’ll have Jonathan go to work on it right away. They should be there by the evening meal. I hope we can all get together sometime in the near future. I’ll be eager to hear of his adventure behind the picket line.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged once this difficulty is behind us,” I said. “Thank you so much, Mr. Winzar.”

“Let’s have none of that. We were introduced by first name. Please continue to use it.”

“Thank you, David. Good day.”

I disconnected, knowing that bit was done. I remembered David as a handsome and pleasant gentleman who might have been the only one in attendance I would have considered going out with. Well, Liam would have pizzas by Sunday dinner. Now what else could I do for him?

Liam

ERICH ARRIVED with the report and my ski jacket and stocking cap. In addition, he had several bags of apples and carrots. The pickets closed around the car when he told them what he had and shielded a line of people carrying food into the heart of their camp. Erich told them it had come from a friend of a friend. He didn’t speak to me but gave a nod in my direction.

I hurried back to where the fires were burning and sat to read the annual report. What I read was staggering. It was impossible to conceive of a company which made so much money and had workers so poorly cared for. I had very little experience with these things but I was certain my father treated his employees better than this.

“Randy, there’s a reporter at the front line who says she wants to interview you. Also wants to verify that Mr. Cyning is being treated well.” Randy looked up from where we were studying the report. Davy from the slip-on loafer line was pointing back toward the pickets. Randy glanced at me and I subtly nodded.

“Right. Well, you say she? Is she alone?”

“She has a guy with her she says is her photographer.”

“Okay. Bring them both back here.” Davy turned and left. “What are we going to do?” Randy asked me.

“You, my friend, are going to greet her cordially and be as eloquent as you can be as she asks you questions. The same as you have been with me. I’ve just been getting you ready for this. Whatever happens, it’s important that you not take offense at anything she suggests and that you answer her questions fully. But avoid the specific demands. This and a few photos of how we are subsisting out here will be in the Monday newspaper. Probably front page. Up to this time, you haven’t received the coverage you should have. Tomorrow, everyone will know why you are picketing the factory.”

“I get nervous around people of upper classes.” Randy wiped his hands on his knees.

“There are no upper classes, Randy. We all have the fundamental rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That some classes claim other privileges based on their wealth does not make them better than you.”

“Here she is, Randy.” The crowd parted and a woman and her young male photographer came into the circle. I winced as I recognized the photographer.

“What? Don’t any of you have any manners? No introductions? Did you even ask her name?” All the workers stepped back a step and Randy went directly to the woman. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. We’re not used to seeing people we don’t know back here. I’m Randy Peters. I guess you could say I’m the union boss as that’s the role my fellow employees have thrust upon me.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Peters. I’m Angela Ritter. This novice with me is my new photographer, Lonnie ah ... Ward.” I breathed a sigh of relief that my friend had not been identified by the correct last name. Senator Porras had as high a profile in the city as the Cynings did. I wondered how Lonnie had been roped into this and by whom. Then the woman’s name sank in. Ritter, as in Susan Ritter, Lonnie’s girlfriend.

“We don’t have much in the way of furniture, I’m afraid. Would you care to have a seat on one of our folding chairs? Careful. It’s a little wobbly.” Angela took the proffered seat, sitting on the edge, possibly not putting any weight on the chair at all. She glanced at me but kept her attention focused on Randy.

“Thank you for seeing me. I’m a reporter and have deadlines to meet. So, if you don’t mind, can we get directly started?”

Randy nodded to her. “We know a bit about working under pressure. Please go ahead.”

“We’ve not seen a strike in our city in many years. Can you tell me what inspired it?” Randy told about having sent a letter on behalf of the employees to the management and that he had been fired. When he cleared out his locker to leave, all the other employees had followed him. “You must have quite a leadership talent to convince them of that.”

“Please, ma’am. I’m just a shoe-laster from the Dexter class. We’ve been told all our lives that we have no leadership ability.”

“Really? What are the demands that you presented to the management which they found so heinous they would fire you?”

“It’s a simple list, ma’am. We’re falling behind the economy. We simply want to increase our wages to a living level. Second, we need time off when we are sick. We lost a beloved co-worker last year who literally worked herself to death because she couldn’t afford not to work while she was sick. We believe machinery and equipment in the plant has suffered from lack of maintenance. This includes chairs for the breakroom, like the one you are carefully sitting on now, but also manufacturing equipment on which safety mechanisms have been broken or disabled. Wouldn’t you think a company would want to take care of its own equipment? And finally, we make these shoes and we are proud of them. But none of us can afford to buy a pair. We end up purchasing inferior shoes made by our competitors. Don’t you think it would be good for the company to have its employees wearing their product?”

“You are asking excellent questions. Let’s delve a little deeper into each of these and into the company’s response.” Angela was an expert at interviewing and I was glad I’d briefed Randy so fully. But the union leader was handling himself naturally.

“Anything I can do for you?” Lonnie whispered after he’d worked himself nearer to me without appearing to pay attention to me. He raised the camera and clicked another picture of Randy.

“I’m glad to see you. As it happens, it looks like I’m going to need a lawyer.”

“Have you committed a crime?” Lonnie couldn’t keep amazement from his voice.

“No. Nothing like that. This needs to be a contract lawyer who’ll work pro bono on behalf of the union to write and/or check any agreement proposed.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you? Geez!” Lonnie looked to make sure his reaction hadn’t been noticed by anyone else. Angela was intent on Randy as he explained how much previous wage increases had been and what they were told about this year’s lack. “If I pull this off, you’re really going to owe me.”

“I’ll forgive you for all the terrible dating advice you’ve given me.” We both choked back a laugh and Lonnie moved to a different photo angle.

“Now, I really need one last thing, Mr. Peters. May I see and speak to Mr. Cyning to assure our readers that he has not been harmed?”

“Of course, Mrs. Ritter. He’s been sitting just behind you all this time. Mr. Cyning, would you be kind enough to answer a question from Mrs. Ritter?”

“Certainly.” I stood and approached Mrs. Ritter.

“This seems to be a pretty mess you’ve gotten into. Have you been treated well here?”

“I believe my treatment is no worse and probably no better than the way everyone who walks the picket line is treated. Should I ask for better than that?”

“And where do you sleep at night?”

“Over there. The workers build fires in the drums you see at night. It’s getting pretty cold out and they need to take breaks from walking the line to get warm and sometimes to sleep a bit.”

“Where is your bed?”

“Would it be proper of me to ask for a bed when everyone around me sleeps on the ground? My jacket is probably warmer than theirs.”

Just at that time there was a commotion and Davy came back.

“Randy, there’s a pizza delivery truck here. He says he has a hundred pizzas for us.”

“What? Who ordered that?”

“No one! It says it comes with compliments from David Winzar of Richmond, Virginia’s House Winzar. I think that means he’s a Leader.”

“Mr. Cyning? Are Leaders banding together to pressure the company?” Angela demanded.

“I’ve never met this person,” I said, not needing to feign surprise. Then a thought struck me. “Wait. I’ve been reading the company’s annual report. Fascinating reading by the way.” I picked up the report and began leafing through the pages. “Hmm. Here it is. According to the annual report, Covington Shoe Company faces vigorous competition from three companies. Look. One of them is Dominion Footwear of Richmond, Virginia.” I tapped the report.

“Why would a Leader from the area of Dominion Footwear be sending support to the strikers of ... Ah! I see,” Angela quickly noted the names on her pad.

“It might only be a gesture of goodwill. I could make some calls to find out if a similar situation has occurred there and he’s hoping we resolve this one in like manner. After this one is resolved, I mean.” Or my brilliant personal assistant might have contacted him and sold him on the idea of helping out another Leader.

“Or he might be hoping to prolong the strike to give his local company an edge.” Lonnie took pictures of the pizzas arriving and being distributed among the workers. One shoved a box at me.

“You eat, too.”

Angela collected Lonnie and pushed him ahead of her as they left.

“What’s the bottom line?” Randy and I had been talking well into the night again and I was even more impressed with Randy’s sharp mind.

“Meaning?”

“What would it really take to walk away from the strike with everyone here feeling like they’d won?”