Page 27 of Light Up The Night
Lainey laughs. "Well, then the reference won't mean much. Point is, that movieis notsuitable for viewing in a classroom."
"Lots and lots of awkward boners when Phoebe Cates walked outta that water, lemme tell ya. Mrs. Murphy was out of her seat so fast it's a wonder she didn't break the sound barrier."
"That is impossible," Cadence says.
I laugh. "No shit." I squeeze her hand. "What we're saying is, don't give up yet, Cadence. Three Rivers just might come through for you."
Chapter 5
CADENCE
Riley is giving me a guided tour of Three Rivers, but the tour is less about viewing local attractions than introducing me to certain personages known to Riley.
Our first stop after we leave the cafe is the local library, where he introduces me to a Mrs. Joanne Aldis, the librarian and, not incidentally, a key member of the Three Rivers Chamber of Commerce. Riley is not a subtle man. He clearly and explicitly lays out my mission and my need and asks Mrs. Aldis for her assistance in leading the fundraising.
Mrs. Aldis is a trim, short, severe-looking woman with silver hair in a tight chignon, wearing cat’s-eye glasses and a sour expression. Yet, when she speaks, her voice is soft and kind.
"I am sympathetic to your cause, Ms. Creswell, but I cannot push a fundraiser on the townspeople without performing some due diligence, even on the word of a well-known and -respected citizen like Mr. Crowe."
"You require some manner of proof that I am who I say I am and that my mission truly is what I say it is." I nod, withdraw my laptop from my bag, open it, and glance at her. "May I show you some photographs?"
"Certainly," the librarian says.
I turn my back to her and Riley and pull up my folder of personal photographs from my most recent trip. "These are from last year and the year before. After I received my medical license, I took a position with an NGO and spent the better portion of the past two years performing medical work in the DRC, Ethiopia, the Central African Republic, and Mozambique. These are my personal photographs, therefore I will not appear in them."
I click slowly through the photographs—as a photographer, my eye focuses on humanity rather than the landscape, so the photographs are of the people of Africa. Little girls, little boys. Babies. Pregnant mothers. Emaciated fathers. Children in the throes of various illnesses. Packed and overflowing makeshift triage tents in conflict zones. Severed limbs. Mass graves. Mothers weeping over dead children. Not all of them are so morbid, however. There is joy, too, such as when our caravan arrives with food and supplies. A particular favorite photograph of mine is of a young girl embracing her very first actual toy doll, a look of supreme ecstasy and joy on her young, innocent face.
Mrs. Aldis has her face covered with one hand, her eyes moist with unshed tears. "How awful."
"Unless one sees this kind of suffering firsthand, one cannot imagine it to exist," I say. "It is easy, here in this land of peace and plenty, to ignore the realities of life elsewhere. I am the daughter of missionaries. I cannot ignore it." I clear my throat and close out the photographs, and open my slideshow. "This is the presentation I created to show my corporate sponsors."
Riley looks at me. "Corporate sponsors?"
I blink at him. "Well, yes. I have cordial and productive relationships with several medical supply companies, who have pledged financial support as well as supply donations. The scale of the funds I require for the mission I intend cannot be met entirely via private donations."
I flip quickly through the slides, which cover my credentials as a doctor, my experience in emergency medicine during rotations and then two years of residency, my background as a missionary with my parents, and the various letters of recommendation from professors, supervisors, fellow residents, and the head of my department at Harvard. It also goes into detail regarding the situation in South Sudan and my plan to provide aid while mitigating the risks.
Riley says little while I give a much-foreshortened version of the presentation, which I have long since memorized. When I have finished, he regards me with an expression I cannot parse.
"Why do you look at me that way, Riley?" I ask.
He shrugs, shakes his head. "Just…it's a lot, I guess. Seeing what it's like over there, what people are going through. Plus, it's one thing for you to say you're a doctor and what you're planning, but seeing the evidence of it is something else."
Mrs. Aldis turns away, pacing a few steps in thought. After a few moments, she comes back. "Can you give that same presentation on Monday, for the Chamber of Commerce?"
I nod. "Yes, of course."
"I am only one vote, understand, but I know the others well enough to know you will find support."
My heart palpitates madly. "You…you truly believe I might find enough support to finish my fundraising?"
Mrs. Aldis nods, smiling kindly. "I do, my dear." She addresses Riley, then. "I'll work on the Chamber. If you get your friend Sheriff Mannix involved, the rest of the first responders will follow."
Riley grins. "My thinking exactly, Mrs. Aldis. Noelle has a lot of reach, too, both in the church community and as a business owner."
I glance at him, somewhat sharply. "Church community?"
"Yeah, my friend Noelle grew up in the church. She's had her issues on the church front, which isn't my story to tell, but she still has friends and family who are involved. She's our next stop."
