A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [166]
“Greer, Greer. She stayed in New York to see her husband and clear up some business. Will you have room at your place?”
Mal laughed. “The room where Rita kept her stuffed animals. I’ll have Juan and a couple of the hands get it cleaned out. I’ll install what electronic and computer shit there is around to keep the wires buzzing.”
“Mal, thank you, man.”
“You’re a stupido bastardo, but I love you.”
Rita was on another phone. She canceled Quinn in the Northwest, then directed a press aide to put out a simple bulletin to the effect that it was family business.
Rita kicked off her shoes and stretched on the chaise longue. Quinn sat on the ottoman and massaged her feet.
“How are you doing, honey?” she asked.
“Media y media. Dan, Siobhan, and Father Sean are the only family I’ve ever known. I feel detached and floaty.”
“You’re very close to completing an American wonder work. You’ve restored a lot of faith, and you’ve come through intact.”
“Am I, Rita? All that clean? I knew when I sent Greer and Mal to Chicago to negotiate the debate with Darnell Jefferson that one of them was going to threaten him with Pucky’s dirty laundry. I warned them not to and I fired Mal, but I was not all that unhappy with what he did.”
“From the moment you shared your darkest and most dangerous secrets with me, I realized you were the only whole man I ever knew or was apt to meet. Hey, you haven’t presented yourself to the voters as all silver-plated and shiny. You’ve told people a lot of things they didn’t want to hear. They get it. You don’t hide behind the Constitution, you stand in front of it. Your failings, your unbelievable courage in admitting to them—that is what they want.”
Quinn established a mini-office near his mother’s bedside. Even in those times when she was alone with her terrible pain, she seemed to know of his nearness.
Duncan and Rae alternated in bringing him messages.
“I need Greer,” Quinn said.
“Headquarters has made contact with her charter. She’ll be on your cell phone,” Rae said.
Quinn jotted notes on the communications, handed a couple for Rita to take care of. He looked from his mother to his son to his very pregnant daughter-in-law to his daughter…to his wife. God help me, he thought, it’s mad, but Rita looks so sexy!
From the whine over the phone, Quinn knew the caller was in an aircraft.
“Quinn,” he said.
“It’s Greer. How is Siobhan?”
“She’s hanging in. She asked for you, Greer.”
“Look, I’m going to fly directly into Grand Junction. I’ll be there by noon. Have a car meet me. Something extremely important has come up.”
“Can you say what it is?”
“No. We should have a secure room to talk in.”
“I’m at Mal’s. His studio will be safe.”
From the studio porch of Maldonado’s villa, Rita could see to the cutoff road from Troublesome. A motorcycle escort led a car up their hillside.
Greer emerged with a stranger. Quinn and the man stared at one another.
“Come in, Mal, you’re a part of this,” Greer said, closing them all in a place flooded with sketches and wire statuettes and a work that had been in progress until the campaign began.
“I want you to meet Mr. Horowitz,” Greer said.
“Sir,” Quinn said, extending his hand.
“Governor O’Connell?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
“I am your brother, Ben.”
Chapter 45
THE SOVIET-POLISH BORDER, 1945–
THE END OF WORLD WAR II
In the mid-twenties after Lenin died, Stalin took power. The Communists set out to destroy Jewish communal life. Religious life, educational institutions, the theater, the press, were forbidden. Jews were reduced to second-class citizens.
The Soviet borders were sealed, and tragic isolation ensued. Would there be an identifiable Jewish community at the end of World War II?
Small groups of Zionists in Russia kept a thin thread alive to the outside world. Zionism was a cardinal crime, akin to treason.