On the night of Vince’s task, Snowfeather noticed a message on her machine. Vince? She hoped. But the message was from one of the Sisters. Snowfeather was urgently needed by Berker; she was to report back to the Pioneer Square office of the League, at first light.
After failing to reach Vince, she tried her parents at home. Snowfeather then called the private number of her father’s private secretary in DC
“He tried to call you. Your mom and dad are in Chicago and due back tomorrow morning.”
Snowfeather left an urgent message for them to call her; then turned in for a troubled sleep.
——
Snowfeather awoke at 6:00 A.M. with a headache and a summons. “Very urgent business, affecting the entire movement,” Berker’s message had claimed. It damn well better be.
Thirty-six minutes later, she appeared at the Woman’s League offices, dressed in jeans and flannel shirt, her hair up, a large coffee in hand. Berker, who had arrived a few minutes before, kept her silence until Snowfeather reached the top of the stairs. “We need to discuss something in complete confidence,” she said, standing in the doorway. She motioned to the back conference room.
“Okay. What is it?” Snowfeather said, following.
“How quickly can you organize a large demonstration?” Berker sat at a small table and motioned Snowfeather into the opposite chair.
“I’ve done a large campus one in a half day. Coordinating multiple locations usually takes two days lead time, but it depends on what’s going on.” Cynthia closed the door behind them. “But you both know a demonstration always needs some event for a catalyst.”
“It seems there’s something like that in the media every couple of weeks, doesn’t it?” Berker said.
“You have something in mind?” Snowfeather asked.
“Just assume that something happens within a few hours. Assume that you have your catalyst. How long would you need? Absolute minimum.”
Snowfeather noticed that the large table was stacked with posters and city maps. “As little as twenty-four hours, if I don’t know in advance the day we are going to do it. As little as four hours, if we can pin down the day with good accuracy.”
“Good,” Berker said with satisfaction. “Assume you know in advance. Let’s plan for City Center, tying up traffic, just in time for the early news.”
“When? Today? Tomorrow? What’s up?”
“I just have a feeling,” Berker said smiling, “that something very, very big will happen tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Really?”
“She’s usually right about these things,” Cynthia added.
——
Berker came by Snowfeather’s office at noon. Snowfeather was busy with a stack of phone messages and maps.
“Do you need any help?”
“It’s coming together very well. I have talked to all the groups and the key people. Everyone is on alert. We can mobilize tomorrow in as little as three hours. How sure are you?”
“I am absolutely confident this will be a go. I’ll confirm first light tomorrow morning. Just watch the news.”
“Okay.”
“By the way,” Berker added with forced casualness, “Do you see much of Vincent these days?”
“Not very much,” Snowfeather lied while pretending to read a letter. Reluctantly, she glanced up at Berker. “He’s studying for the Bar Exam.”
“I thought as much. Did you know he was going out with someone else?”
Snowfeather dropped her letters on the desk. Her heart was racing, but she kept her stone face. She noticed that Berker was holding something. Snowfeather stared coldly while Berker opened an envelope and removed a picture. Then she shoved it across the desk to Snowfeather, with a note of triumph. “Doesn’t look like studying to me.” Berker carefully placed the eight by ten directly on top of Snowfeather’s correspondence. Vincent seemed to be nuzzling the neck of an older blond woman in a restaurant. “Men,” Berker said.
Snowfeather was numb. How can this be true? She turned the picture over and over in her hands. Berker pressed her advantage. “We heard he is planning to take a job in Los Angeles.”
“Los Angeles?” Snowfeather’s voice was very quiet, her stomach tightening.
“It’s a long way, I know, but I understand she has a job there.”
Berker has to be lying.
“Supposedly, he’s planning to take the California Bar in the summer.”
Snowfeather felt like breaking something, but she refused to give Berker the satisfaction. “Vincent will do better there,” she said, her tone flat.
This doesn’t sound right…not at all.
“As we say, my dear, men can be useful…to a point.”
Berker gently took the picture back. Snowfeather kept up the appearance of stoic indifference. “I’m pretty busy right now.” Snowfeather pretended to look down at the letters on her desk, but her vision was blurred.
Berker whistled as she left. As soon as the door shut, Snowfeather called Vincent’s room. The second time, she left a message. “Vincent. Vincent. Pick up, damn it. Are you in trouble? They say you are planning to go to LA. Are you? I don’t believe it! Vincent, if anything has happened… Call me, okay?” After a long moment, she slammed receiver into the cradle and fought for control of the tears that had begun running freely down her cheeks.