"Excuse
me. Ms. Lynn Ritchie? "A well-dressed and crewcut
slim black man, emerging from the basement steps, already approached with a
pair of clipboards. She tried to size him up 'till she felt herself being
caught at something; then she asked herself who she was really seeing .The
white shirt and perfect red and black tie told her already that a new phase of
the battle had started. Oh, hell, he’s just a kid like Paul she thought
with some resentment, already trying to find some realism in anything she thought
this morning. Why should organizing the debate be a battle; why should the
way he dresses divide the lines? She wondered, realizing nonetheless it
would all be so and high school was back in session. Well, what the hell
stops me from wearing a nice shirt and tie? she
pondered, stopping herself, barely from laughing at the now approached
stranger. "Yes. My name is Dave Garvey, and I thought our petitions might
be of interest to you. "Dave Garvey did not offer his free hand; either he
was very rude or actually saw that Lynn wanted it to stay that way between them. The name
rang a bell and she wondered if this was, after all, a battle. "This is a
petition objecting to your homosexuality debate, and here is another petition
blocking such an event from the Memorial Theater. "We
thought in the spirit of fairness and debate that you might like to sign one or
both. "She tried to find an emotion in his voice; hearing only declaration
there. She gave him a special look: No Comprende. She
couldn't believe how long she'd let that little gem sleep. Garvey said nothing
yet, and she restrained herself from saying, 'you're serious. 'Dave Garvey yet
said nothing, and turned to go. Lynn couldn't let him go yet; he'd be with her all day no
matter what as it was, and this wasn't the way she wanted that to be. He
acted like he knew me--how did he know I was in on the debate anyway? Had she talked to Dave Garvey and forgotten? No. "Just
a second." she called, running after him, acting on three or for
inspiration, not sure yet which one was the especially bad idea. Dave Garvey
turned and looked at her, surprised and then hard with only the blink of an eye
intervening. "Uhm, yes?"
"In the spirit of fairness, and debate." She
made herself sound as earnest as possible, as though weighing something new and
now unavoidable; and what she was really up to was just starting to sink in for
her. "Well, yes." he said, spending a second trying to remember
"Every debate had two sides, you know." "Actually, we're trying
for four. Three of them are Christian." she added on a guess. "They
might be." said Garvey. "But the two sides I am thinking of is one
side that wants to bring the issue up, and one side
that might see it more fitting that the whole thing didn't happen. Every debate
has to have those two sides or you're already putting one of the conclusions
across. That is our considered opinion. "He spoke with a
clarity wholly empty of any emotion she could recognize as motivating
this kind of attack on their efforts. Goddamned, he can talk good,
thought Lynn, amazed at the wetness and embarrassed heat of that
very thought as she tried to swallow it down; and something indeed did land in
her gut, for a good long stay it felt. Well, I'm no hero this time. She
thought. But I do have to see this thing through. "Well, I guess
some side always has more to gain out of having a discussion at all, than if.." "Damned right." said Dave Garvey with
bland, sharp force. "That's the only reason it ever happens."
"Haven't you put on debates? Any group you're with? Knowing about the
other side?" "Generally not. That's what
speakers are for. Speakers you can take or leave. And if we do do a debate, you can bet if anyone's forgotten what I've
just said, I'm in line to remind 'em."
"Well, at least you're honest." she said, not really acting at all
somehow that she was saddened and a little taken aback. Pause. "I guess
the others will at least understand." she said, putting out her hand.
After a pause, reading her whole stance, Dave Garvey handed over the clipboard,
and musing over what she was doing, she caught Ron Smith and a couple of other
names before she finished scrawling John Cutter in print. "I promise you
won't regret this." said Dave Garvey just as his shoulders started when he
really checked the form. "Oh, well." he said. "I'll have to
spend five minutes tonight getting those signatures again. Wonder how you'll do
a debate without a room, though." So he really does expect those names
to meet together tonight. She hoped she would remember them, she was sure
that she would. She made a halfstep to the side and
then forward, impelled for some reason to take the steps that had emitted
Garvey, as if she now reclaimed them. Anyway, she had nothing more to say to
Dave Garvey; and at least he seemed just gentleman enough not to take the last
word to a turned shoulder.
