Part Sixty-Three

Peggy whistled to herself as she boarded the 6:20 a.m. ferry. She projected an air confidence and purpose. Above all she was not the least bit annoyed over the argument she had had with Raoul the previous evening.

Peggy relaxed when she saw only Paula. She could handle Paula, the others would pester her for details. She wasn't in the mood for explaining.

"I suppose the poor 5:20 ferry has permanently lost a passenger," said Peggy as she took her seat across from Paula.

"Actually, I think two passengers," Paula said.

Peggy frowned. She wanted to say, Well it has nothing to do with anything, but something in Paula's expression told her that she wouldn't get out of it that easily. "Okay," she said. "I suppose there are people I don't feel like seeing."

"But I thought Raoul wasn't riding the ferry anymore?" said Paula.

"Oh it's not him, not at all," said Peggy, thinking that her voice sounded unusually mouse-like.

Peggy poured tea while Paula picked up some knitting. The conversation with Raoul had gotten off track from the moment it began. It started at the kitchen counter, where Raoul was tossing roasted vegetables and pasta with oil and capers and fresh herbs. Raoul had made a big deal of putting the fresh marjoram and thyme in contact with the pasta while it still had just enough heat to release the flavors of the herbs.

"Smell that?" he had said, waving the aromatic steam toward his face.

"I'm thinking of starting a club," she blurted out.

"What are clubs? Do you have them with pasta?"

"No. I'm talking about an organization of people dedicated to a common purpose, ideally that is."

Raoul shook with laughter. "My mind was on food. I was trying to think of a food item called a club."

"Or should it be a newsletter? Maybe a club and a newsletter."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm getting ahead of myself."

"You're already miles ahead of me, but I'm getting used to that."

That made her pause, the way he said '…I'm getting used to that,' as though he enjoyed being used to that, enjoyed the feeling of being comfortable with her. It was true, she realized, they had grown comfortable with each other.

She recomposed herself as they sat down to eat. "I'm becoming very annoyed with the way things are going in our society."

"Join the club. Um, sorry, I wasn't trying to be funny."

"I know. But starting a club is a way of finding like-minded people who want to change the status quo."

"Agreed. You could convene a weekly breakfast group and discuss the issues of the day."

She gave him a stern look. "That's not what I had in mind. I don't want to chat about the ruination of society over blueberry muffins at the diner. I want action."

Raoul paused with a fork in the air. "I get it," he said quietly. "You want to make a difference."

"Yes."

"You're tired of the way things are and you want to change them."

"Yes."

"Starting with the Alaskan Way viaduct, I hope."

Pause. "I suppose that's a fair example."

"Good. In my opinion, that noisy, smelly monstrosity is the biggest wart in all of Seattle, and I can't believe people are quibbling over the few pennies per gallon of gas that it would take to build a tunnel and tear down the viaduct."

She banged the table with her fist. "Now you're talking. That's exactly what I've been saying. No one wants to think about investing for the long term. Imagine the waterfront without that raised highway. It would be wonderful."

"Every square foot of waterfront property would triple in value overnight." Then Raoul's eyes widened. "Maybe we should buy a condo before they build the tunnel."

Peggy started to disagree on conflict-of-interest grounds, then stopped. "We?."

"Uh, just a figure of speech. Can I get you more water?" He got up quickly to fill the water glasses, which didn't need refilling.

However, Peggy was not one to let words fall on the floor without notice. She decided to file that one away for further consideration.

"Okay," said Peggy. "I think you have the idea. Does that mean you're willing to help me organize my club? Or would you rather edit the newsletter?"

"Your club has one member and you're already launching a newsletter?"

"No. My club has two members."

He looked at her. "I see. I imagine the two members are at this table."

She placed her hand on his arm. "I need your help."

"You appear to be serious about this."

"Very."

"In that case, you can count on me for legal advice."

"Thank you, but I want more than that. I need your involvement. You're a great organizer. You can help me get this thing off the ground."

"You need a mission statement."

"See what I mean! You think in terms of mission statements."

"But you're overlooking one thing: I'm not the activist type."

"It's never too late to start."

"I don't wish to start. I like not being an activist. I get to spend my evenings at home playing music and planning next year's potato garden. Kelly's really got me hooked on this potato thing."

"But how does that accomplish anything?" Peggy complained.

"It accomplishes the playing of music and the growing of potatoes. Do you think I have room for two long rows?"

"Don't ignore me, like I'm a schoolgirl."

"I would never do that."

"Then why aren't you taking me seriously?"

"Because you don't realize what you're up against."

"You forget that citizens have the power to change things."

"True, but you need a lot of citizens who don't mind paying more for gas in order to have a tunnel. What you are talking about comes down to expensive long term projects that are publicly funded and which do not, in general, get politicians reelected."

"We have to change hearts and minds."

"Now you're talking like a crusader. I'm not a crusader. I've outgrown those tendencies. Which reminds me, don't you have a birthday coming up?"

"I knew you were going to say that." She got up from the table. She put her hands on her hips, which she hadn't meant to do; it was involuntary. "I resent being labeled another flaky over-fifty airhead who wants to be immortal."

"You deserve no such label. You are not flaky and certainly not an airhead."

"Grrr. You know, you talk a good line, but deep down you are self-centered."

"I love the saying, 'All politics is local.' To me it means very local, like 'it's all about me.'"

She shook her head, then slumped back in her chair. She had promised herself that she would not get into a fight with Raoul over this. She must treat Raoul as merely the first naysayer, the first person she must convert to her cause. After all, if she can't talk one self-centered naysayer into it, then how could she hope to change millions of hearts and minds?

Peggy was lost in thought, pondering this, when Paula cleared her throat. Peggy looked up suddenly.

"It must have been really bad," said Paula.

"I wanted to start a club and I can't even recruit Raoul as the first member."

"Don't worry. Just do it and he'll be right there with you."

"How do you know that? He told me he wasn't a crusader."

"It doesn't matter. He'll do whatever you do. I think he loves you."

Peggy's jaw dropped, and then she spilled her tea. Her heart was beating so fast and loud she was sure the whole ferry could hear it.