CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T

he door closed. Lisa and Tom were alone in the tower chamber. She forgot about the danger for a moment and thought about the many hours she had passed in front of the candle in this dark room. She had spent entire nights planning for the future and worrying and hoping. Now she was back, but the room didn’t belong to her. Why should it? she wondered. How could I fall for such a simple trick? She didn’t deserve the room or the city.

“Why does it have to be this way, Tom?” she said, not knowing where the conversation would lead. “Why do we have to fight? You know I don’t want to fight. Have I ever attacked you before? This time I’m only defending what’s mine!

“What is it about you that makes you want to fight and steal? Are you afraid that you can’t earn things for yourself? Why do you need to steal what others have worked for?”

Tom listened, but he couldn’t reply. She had found his weakness and that was painful.

Lisa went on. “What good is your life, Tom? Did you ever wonder about that? What fun is there in your kind of dirty business? What good is there in making people afraid of you? Why do you need slaves or soldiers who are afraid of you? You depend on fear!

“You start with your soldiers’ fear of death and starvation, and then you add to that your own fear of failure. I think you fear building a better life with your own brains.

“You know, Tom, that’s what it is. You don’t have the guts to depend on your own resources. No! You’d rather be tough and take what someone else has worked hard for.

“Do you have any idea what this city cost me, Tom? I paid for this place with hard work. I didn’t steal anything that belonged to anyone else. I just used my head.

“And then you . . . you came along with your army and your guns and decided that my work was ripe for the harvest.”

Tom had no answer. He put the gun down on the table and slumped into his chair. He couldn’t think of a reply or a boast or a threat. He was silent.

Lisa watched the gun but didn’t pick it up. She had a much better weapon now—his fear. She had Tom Logan against the wall. He had no more defenses. She would drive home the final blow.

“You’re afraid of life and your ability to earn your way through it. I feel sorry for you. You don’t know what real fun is.” She wanted to give him the Great King’s happiness advice. But Logan wasn’t ready for it. She picked up the gun and pointed it at him, her finger on the trigger. Then she made a decision. She put the weapon back down.

“You’re free, Tom,” she said. “Go away, and take your army with you.”

He said nothing and moved to the door. She added, “I’d like to be able to like you, Tom.”

Within minutes, the Chidester, Elm, and Lenox army was walking away from Glenbard. Lisa closed the chamber door. Her gun was sitting on the table near her old familiar candle.

“Alone!” she said out loud. It felt good to be back. She wandered around the room, deep in thought, while her city filled with happy citizens. The hall was crowded, and they were waiting to see her.

There was a knock at the chamber door. It was Todd. “Well, we’re back, aren’t we, Todd?” She smiled at him.

“They want you to speak to them, Lisa.”

“What? About what? There are hundreds of them out there. Let me rest a minute. You should go to sleep, Todd, over there, on the couch. I’ll tell you a story tomorrow. Will that be all right?

“You must be tired,” she said. “You haven’t slept in days, have you? I’m tired too. Maybe one day soon we can take a vacation somehow, somewhere.”

Lisa gazed at her brave little brother. He had already fallen asleep.

After a time, the noise from the hall distracted her. What do they want? she wondered. Why do they waste their time shouting for me? Why don’t they spend the effort on something else?

She sat back down and lit the candle. It was her “thoughtful” candle. Its flame had inspired the plans that had made her city.

The shouts from the hall became insistent. “We want Lisa! We want Lisa!” It sounded as though all the citizens were there, waiting and chanting.

She wanted to please them. But she didn’t know what to say. Should she tell them about the Great King, or the “King of Chicago”? Should she mention the army of 5,000 that might attack their city?

She had to speak to them. It was her job. She paused by the door, not wanting to make her appearance and not wanting to spoil her hard-earned peace.

Lisa stood for a long time with her hand on the door latch. I don’t know how, she thought, but I’ll figure out a way to show them what I know. We have to make plans. We have to prepare.

The girl who owned the city walked through the door into the waiting crowd of happy children.