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And I also appreciate that their wholesome platform makes them perfect donors for our project.
Kita follows the Senator’s wife. Her husband, Daniel, is a donor; I’m not sure what his exact job or position in society might be. I smile at all of them the same. A dollar’s a dollar. Every one helps.
“There's just this one more dormitory here,” I announce, holding my hand out as I walk toward it. I push the door open so they can peek in. None of the girls are here right now, but each bed is neatly made, with pillows fluffed and perched primly at the head. Sunlight streams gaily through the window, illuminating the whole thing like a set for a very upbeat musical.
“I think they're in the pool right now, or maybe mingling with some of the other guests,” I explain. “We're fully booked right now. That's why we want to open the new space. There's a waiting list and everything…”
“And you don't have any boys?” Elaine asks, averting her eyes because she realize
s how her question might be taken the wrong way, considering her recent history.
“No, we just decided to focus on the girls. For now, at least. I really feel passionate about helping them on in the world. We don't want to take on more of a test than we can handle, you understand. At least not before we’re ready.”
“Oh, of course,” the senator's wife says. I know she has sons, and I can only imagine what she's thinking right now.
“I suppose we should join the party again now, don't you think?” I suggest.
They smile, the relief plain on their faces. Everyone has a personal tolerance for charity. Some people like to be more at arm’s length than others. I like being up close, doing the real work. Like Mama used to say, I was born to be a hard worker. But these ladies look like they've had just about enough harsh reality for today.
“We'll just go up here,” I say, pointing toward the wide, hewn timber staircase. “I'm sure the caterers have brought out the gazpacho by now.”
The women coo excitedly as I lead them back up the stairs, back to the main living room. Soft music fills the air, with the sounds of subdued conversation here and there. Through a combination of lucky interactions as well as neighborhood visibility, we managed to pull together a reliable and wealthy group of people to help support our mission.
Sometimes I can't help but wonder what it would have been like to have these kinds of supporters for Kingdom Come. Maybe Silas wouldn't have struggled so much. Maybe he would have been able to realize his dreams more quickly.
But it’s happening now, and it feels good. People have been very generous with us, and we have found the kind of peace and fulfillment I don't believe we ever could have, before.
In the living room, I find Silas standing by the window, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he listens to Senator Jack Kenilworth talk with his mouth wide open. Daniel stands to the side, surveying. He’s fortyish. Muscular, and handsome. Jack looks like a senator should: wavy silver hair, the California tan, square jaw. He looks like an actor, playing the role of a senator in a movie where he does something heroic after spending a long time struggling with his foes.
But really, he's just a man. Just like all of them, he gives us money because he feels guilty about some of the really terrible things he's done.
“Quite a view you have here, Silas,” the senator observes, but I'm not sure if he's talking about the city lights far below us, or the swimming pool full of starlets and some of the older foster girls. I watch them through the window, squinting, trying to figure out who I recognize. Sometimes I can’t tell them apart. Actresses and orphans seem to have a lot in common in LA.
“Now, Jack,” Silas chides him, “I know you’re not here to talk about the view. And I'll tell you what, I won't ask you exactly what you meant by that if you just cut to the chase and tell me if we can count on your support?”
The senator rolls his eyes and turns around deliberately. Seems like men are always surprised when they don't get reinforcement for their worst inclinations from Silas. He's not sanctimonious about it, but he is direct. Silas is not anyone to tolerate the abuse of children. Not even as a joke.
You think that these guys would have figured this out by now. It makes me wonder what kind of conversations they have when Silas is not around.
“Yeah, you can count on me,” the senator huffs, pouting. “I’ll get the line item in, making sure there's funding for your little rehabilitation program here.”
“Thank you,” I add quietly.
The senator’s eyes slide over me suspiciously. He looks at me like everyone here: like I am some kind of strange archeological artifact. My “story” has been part of the new Kingdom Come operation. Daughter of an addict, raised in the church. Sheltered from outside influences but still, I am a strong influence here. I’m not like anyone they’ve seen before, and sometimes we have to use that notoriety to gain more attention.
All in the service of the greater good, of course.
The senator knows I’m forbidden, so he wants me. It’s obvious, now that I’ve learned how to watch for the signs. He swallows as he looks me over. He seems distracted by his own fantasy. It’s appalling, really, how everyone is so simple-minded. I’m wearing a long, silk gown that looks like it might be transparent if I move just right. He can’t help but look. But he also knows I’m miles and miles above him. He’s just a man. I consort with better.
Daniel only seems to have eyes for Kita, which I appreciate.
“You won't regret it,” Silas smiles, clapping him on the shoulder. “Every penny will go to good use.”
“That's just the thing,” the senator huffs, shaking his head as though this has somehow defeated him. “I know I won’t regret it. You really do good work here. You’re one of the good guys, Silas. It's a rare thing.”
“Isn’t he though?” I interrupt, gliding forward and taking Silas's elbow. As far as anyone knows, I am a preacher's wife: committed, devoted, and practically pristine.
Little do they know. I’m not sure everybody would approve of our lifestyle choices.
