David Dun - At The Edge

"Oh, fine," they said, maybe a little self-conscious at the familiar attitude of this stranger.

"Do I know you? I could swear I know you. Corey Schneider is my name."

"Don't think so," the young woman said.

"Well, anyway, it's nice to see you."

A thirtyish man came out of the stacks, looked her up and down. No wedding band. He was tall and flat-stomached with good shoulders. He flashed a kind of sneer smile that reminded her of the heavy in a Grease sort of movie. Definitely the man thought he was cool. Heavy beard, lots of testosterone.

"Hi there." Corey gave it her best.

"Hi there to you," he said, looking intrigued. "You live around here?"

"Sort of. I live in the mountains."

"So how does a guy have a beer with a woman who lives in the mountains?"

"He calls her and talks to her until he convinces her he's not some kind of nutcase."

"And how does a guy get her number?"

"Like this." Corey took out a simple white card with her name and phone on it. Nothing else.

"Spartan card," the man said.

"I like things simple and neat," she said. "Call me." She turned to Macy as if to dismiss him for the moment. He proceeded to check out the video and leave.

"He's a regular. And you obviously made a hit with him. I haven't seen you dressed like that before."

''Yeah.'' Corey smiled. ''But you know I can't stay single forever."

"What brings you here?"

"Oh, I'm going to go to the library, but I forgot the damn thing doesn't open until eleven, so I thought I'd get a movie, kill time. Too far to go home."

Corey checked out Malcolm X and went to the viewing room in the far corner. Inside, she turned on the movie, stripped off her clothes, and took boots and overalls from a sizeable bag over her shoulder. Then she took out her cell phone, called Old Town Video, and slipped out the door of the viewing room. Macy stepped halfway behind a wall to answer the phone. Her habit was to lean against the wall, well back from the counter. Corey could walk all the way to the front door without being seen when Macy leaned against the wall.

"You got Ancient of Days there?" Corey said in her deepest, almost unintelligible drawl, already out the door.

"I've never heard of it."

"Well, could you look it up and see?"

"Well, I suppose."

Leaving the shiny Mustang right in front of the store, she walked around the block to a parked van.

"You know," she told Macy, "never mind. On second thought I don't have time to watch a movie."

"Look, you have your tail tied in a knot without knowing the facts." In the hallway outside the courtroom, it took Dan a second to notice Ross, who came forward to stand next to Maria.

"Save it for the judge. He may be sympathetic to your particular line of bullshit."

She wore a stylish business suit, deep blue with gold buttons, dark blue shoes, and an embroidered white blouse- a change from the usual. Her crossed arms and intense bearing said as much as her words.

''You don't seem all outraged about the ears your buddies lifted from the loggers." Ross grabbed her elbow.

"If you'd close your fist, you'd get a little more sizzle in that right," Dan said, smiling wanly.

"Don't tempt me."

"Come on." Ross urged Maria toward the courtroom.

"I see you're out serving the morally challenged as usual," she snapped as she backed away in response to Ross's tugs.

"I think if we could talk about this, you might-"

"Save your breath," she said, disappearing through the doors.

The people jamming the old-fashioned courtroom sat on polished-teak seats for the gallery. Matching the dark tones of the benches were a teak jury box and witness stand, and a pair of mahogany counsel tables, all sitting atop a worn marble floor. It was said that the teak was salvaged from sailing ships of the 1890s that used to stop for cargoes of milled redwood. Present in the historic room were members of the press, activists, and mill workers.

Maria stood behind the counsel table nearest the jury box. Dan sat behind the other, trying to make eye contact while she stared everywhere but at him. Soon the bailiff called the case and the judge took the bench. He was a salt-and-pepper gray-haired man who tended to dangle his glasses in his right hand.

"Are both counsels ready?"

"Your Honor, perhaps we could talk in chambers?" Dan said as he rose.

The look on the judge's face told everyone in the packed courthouse that he was favorably disposed to the suggestion. Translated into lawyerspeak, Dan was asking to go in the back room and make a deal. A quick settlement would be just what the doctor ordered. Like all state judges, Traxler was an elected official, and any decision he might make in this case would be extremely unpopular with many people.

Maria displayed no reaction to what was happening, even though she would likely prefer a much different order of events. Excoriating the industry for accelerated weekend cutting and girdling trees would best be done in open court. She could obtain a temporary court order halting the logging, grab headlines, declare victory, and then negotiate from a position of strength prior to the next hearing. None of that would be possible in a back-room deal.

"Your Honor, if I could be heard. I think the public deserves an open and fair hearing," Maria began before Dan or the judge could speak further. "I know Mr. Young wants to go in chambers, out of the hearing of all these good people, and try to cut a deal. Well, I'm happy to do that. But at the right time."

"What are you saying about settlement, Ms. Fischer? Exactly."

"The matters before this court are important to the public. As evidence of that, I would point out that there are hundreds of people both inside and outside this building. I appreciate the court's concern for achieving a settlement, and such a thing may be possible after the public's right of participation is taken care of, but right now I think settlement would be premature."

"Am I to understand that before you'll talk settlement, you want to address the court?"

''Your Honor, if Ms. Fischer makes a highly inflammatory argument and then we go off to discuss settlement, it may make it more difficult."

"Mr. Young, it will only look like your clients are losing if she makes a more compelling case.'' Then he eyed Maria. "I wouldn't let you grandstand if I didn't think your side had something to commend. But if I let you go on like Daniel Webster, I want some assurance that we're going to have some settlement talks before I rule."

''We are certainly willing to listen and the court can more effectively guide the settlement talks if it is apprised of all the facts."

''OK." Traxler sighed. ''There will be order in this courtroom." He banged his gavel, quieting the sizeable crowd. "No clapping or speaking will be allowed at any time. Ms. Fischer, this is your motion. You may proceed."

Corey had a medium-sized hand truck with a lashing strap that would wrap around the cargo and pull tight with a small hand crank. On it were two five-gallon drums, one atop the other. Her blue denim coveralls said johnson heating and electric. Through careful investigation she had learned that they did much of the electrical work in the courthouse. She had duplicated a Johnson van down to the fine print lettering on the outside. As if she belonged, as if she owned the place, she drove right up to the back service entrance. Her hair was under a cap and she had bound her breasts so that she looked like a man.

Her black boot hit the grainy asphalt with a businesslike scrape and she moved with the determined nonchalance of a busy workman. Without rushing but with precision, she removed the dolly and placed the two five-gallon drums on it. They were taped together, one on top of the other, at the joint. Labels indicated thirty-gauge electrical wire. Behind the drums and against the dolly, she put a heavy three-foot crowbar.