Did he think she would let his inebriated scene slide if he did?
There was no way to know.
Regardless, she couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If he wanted to ally himself with her—even temporarily—she wouldn’t stop him.
She needed all the help she could get.
Thomas
The underground radio blared from the overhead speakers as Thomas dug a handful of leaflets out of his locker.
“Attention all crew members. You’re listening to The Voice of Destiny … ”
“I’m trying not to,” Thomas muttered.
“ … your number one source of information on all things Destiny Park. The park will be open today from 9:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., and the parade will step off promptly at 3:00 p.m. Don’t forget to pick up your free t-shirt in the main corridor during park hours. Park management respectfully requests that you report all unauthorized third-party organization activity immediately to a manager so that we can preserve our workplace harmony.”
Thomas snorted as he slammed his locker shut.
“Thank you, and we hope that you’ll continue to find your Destiny today!”
The radio station blessedly returned to Top 40 programming.
Thomas glanced down the aisle. Finding no one in sight, he quickly slipped a folded pamphlet into the slot of each locker in the row. Distributing union literature off the clock was completely legal, but it only took one unfriendly observer to go running off to management to stir up trouble.
He turned a corner and saw Bob head down a row with a handful of pamphlets. Thomas pivoted to the opposite direction and worked his way down another aisle.
By the time they ran out, they’d leafleted almost every locker in the men’s locker room. Thomas and Bob exchanged a silent nod and headed to separate exits.
When Thomas emerged, he spotted Maribel coming out of the women’s locker room.
She, too, nodded at him before striding off.
Mission accomplished, almost. Thomas patted his pocket as he walked, confirming he’d held on to one of the leaflets.
In the Ghost Factory break room, he smoothed out the paper. Bob and Maribel, he knew, would pin their last copies in American Dream and Gold Rush. He read it over one more time as he pushed pins through the paper and into the bulletin board.
The leaflet, written after their desperate meeting in The Black Hole, predicted that Destiny Park management would continue to apply pressure (such as letters, meetings, and radio broadcasts) along with bribery (like parties, prizes, and free t-shirts) in an attempt to sway the crew members to vote against unionizing. Thomas had taken pains to point out that management’s reaction to the fledgling union only proved how powerful a union could be.
Every attempt to bust the union, positive or negative, would make the point all over again. The letter closed with the usual plea to “Vote yes!”
Win or lose, he wasn’t going down without a fight.
Chapter 17
Vanessa
The Mirror Castle loomed over Vanessa. She had received a personal summons to meet with Amy, the consultant, prior to awarding the Silver Mirror.
Vanessa squared her shoulders and pressed the button of the now-familiar elevator that would carry her to the executive offices.
Upon entering Mr. Destiny’s office, she found Amy behind the desk.
Mr. Destiny, as was often the case, had somewhere else to be.
“Good afternoon,” said Amy.
“Good afternoon,” said Vanessa.
Amy picked up one of the awards from the credenza and handed it to Vanessa. “Here you go. We’ll be bringing along a photographer, of course, to record the occasion.”
“We?” said Vanessa, examining the Silver Mirror. The shiny award, heavy in her hands, was already covered in fingerprints.
“Oh, yes. I’m coming with you to help out.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” said Vanessa. Her smile showed her teeth.
“Nonsense. That’s what I’m here for—to make sure things go the way they’re supposed to,” Amy replied.
“Great!” said Vanessa, which was not how she felt at all.
“Your secretary said Marco was scheduled to work the parade this afternoon?”
“That’s right,” said Vanessa. “They should be wrapping up shortly.”
“Perfect. We’ll have the other parade crew members to witness the award.”
The door opened, and a man with an elaborate camera rig entered.
“And there’s our photographer. Let’s get this show on the road,” said Amy.
The three of them walked to American Dream to intercept the parade crew.
Vanessa figured that if Amy wanted so badly to be in charge, Amy could take the blame if anything went wrong. She resolved to stay in the background as much as possible.
“Which one is Marco?” Amy whispered when they arrived.
“The one with the Marco nametag,” said Vanessa.
She handed the award to Amy.
“Congratulations, Marco,” Amy said loudly, as if Marco were hard of hearing. “You’ve been selected to receive the Silver Mirror award for your loyalty, service, and achievement.”
The other crew members gathered around as the photographer snapped pictures indiscriminately.
Marco—polite, amiable Marco who had danced with her at the carriage wash—looked to Vanessa with confusion written across his face. He knew as well as she did that he didn’t deserve an award.
Vanessa felt a surge of guilt for putting him in an uncomfortable position.
“Why don’t we all take a nice picture?” said Amy.
Only a few crew members shuffled toward Marco.
Amy stood back and attempted to herd all the crew members into the shot by waving her arms. “You, get in the back. You, move over. You, move to the front. Not there. There!” When that wasn’t enough to get the effect she was looking for, she charged forward with the Silver Mirror in her hand.
Vanessa delicately turned one foot out.
Amy caught her high heel on Vanessa’s shoe and lost her grip on the Silver Mirror. Her forward momentum launched the award end over end, sparkling in the sun, until it fell and exploded in a thousand shards on the concrete.
The crew members scattered, dodging the broken mirror shards and laughing.
Amy’s face turned bright red.