The bank security chief swung toward Orinda and said firmly, "We'll expect all of you to help us keep this place orderly, inside and out. Our guards will give directions about how many people can come in at once, and where the waiting line should stay."
The other nodded agreement. "Naturally, sir, my friends and I will do everything possible to help. We don't want any disturbance either. But we shall expect you to be fair." "What's that mean?" 'those of us in here," Orinda declared, "and those outside, are customers just like anybody else who comes to this bank. And while we're willing to wait our turn and be patient, we don't expect others to get specially favored treatment or to be allowed in here ahead of us who've waited. What I mean is, anybody arriving no matter who must go to the back of the line." "We'll see about that."
"So will we, sir. Because if you do it some other way, it'll be a clear case of discrimination. Then you'll hear us holler." The reporters, Edwina saw, were still making notes.
She eased her way through the press of people, to the three new account desks, already supplemented by two more, while a further two were being set up.
One of the auxiliary desks, Edwina noted, was occupied by Juanita Nunez. She caught Edwina's eye, and they exchanged smiles. Edwina was suddenly reminded that the Nunez girl lived at Forum East: Had she known in advance of today's invasion? Then she reasoned: Either way, it made no difference.
Two of the bank's junior officers were supervising the new account activity and it was clear that all other work today would fall seriously behind.
The heavyset black man, who had been among the earliest arrivals, was getting up as Edwina arrived. The girl who had dealt with him, no longer nervous, said, "This is Mr. Euphrates. He just opened an account."
"Deacon Euphrates. Least, that's what most call me." Edwina was offered an enormous hand which she took.
"Welcome to First Mercantile American, Mr. Euphrates."
"Thank you, that's real nice. In fact, so nice that I think maybe after all I'll pop a little more bread in this here account." He examined a handful of small change, selected a quarter and two dimes, then strolled over to a teller.
Edwina asked the new accounts clerk, "What was the initial deposit?" "Five dollars.", "Very well Just try to keep going as fast as you can."
"I’ll do that, Mrs. D'Orsey, but that one took a long time because he asked a lot of questions about withdrawals and interest rates. He had them written out on paper." "Did you get the paper?" "No."
"Others will probably have the same thing. Try to get one and show it to me."
It might provide a clue, Edwina thought, as to who had planned and executed this expert invasion. She did not believe that anyone she had spoken to so far was the key organizing figure.
Something else emerging: The attempt to inundate the bank would not be limited to merely opening new accounts. Those who had already opened accounts were now forming lines at tellers' counters, paying in or withdrawing tiny amounts at a glacial pace, asking questions or engaging tellers in conversation.
So not only would regular customers have difficulty getting into the building but, once inside, they would be further impeded.
She told Nolan Wainwright about the written lists of questions and her instructions to the girl clerk. The security chief approved. "I'd like to see them, too." "Mr. Wainwright," a secretary called over, "telephone."
He took the call and Edwina heard him say, "It is a demonstration, even if not in the legal sense. But it's peaceful and we could make trouble for ourselves by hasty decisions. The last thing we want is an ugly confrontation."
It was comforting, Edwina reasoned, to have Wainwright's sane solidity available. As he replaced the phone a thought occurred to her. "Someone mentioned calling the city police," she said.
"They came when I first got here and I sent them away. They'll haul back fast if we need them. I hope we won't." He motioned to the telephone, then in the direct lion of FMA Headquarters Tower. "Word has got to the brass. They're pressing panic buttons over there."
"One thing they could try is restoring funds to Forum East."
For the first time since his arrival, a brief smile crossed Wainwright's face. "I'd like to see that, too. But this isn't the way and, where the bank's money is on the line, outside pressure won't alter a thing."
Edwina was about to say, "I wonder," then changed her mind, remaining silent.
While they watched, the crowd monopolizing the bank's central floor area remained as great; the uproar, if anything, a little louder than before. Outside, the lengthening line stayed fixedly in place. It was now 9:45.
4
Also at 9:45 A.M., three blocks from First Mercantile American Headquarters Tower, Margot Bracken was operating a command post from an inconspicuously parked Volkswagen.
Margot had intended to remain remote from the execution of her pressure ploy, but in the end she hadn't been able to. Like a war horse which paws the ground at the scent of battle, her resolve had weakened then dissolved.
Margot's concern about embarrassing Alex or Edwina remained, however, and was the reason for her absence from the front line of action on Rosselli Plaza.
If she appeared she would be quickly identified by members of the press, whose presence Margot knew about since she had arranged advance tip-offs to newspapers TV, and radio.
Therefore, messengers were discreetly bringing news of developments to her car and carrying instructions back.
Since Thursday night a sizable feat of organization had been carried through
On Friday, while Margot worked on the master plan, Seth, Deacon, and several committee members recruited block captains in and around Forum East. They described what was to be done only in general terms, but the response was overwhelming. Almost everyone wanted a piece of the action and knew others who could be counted on.
By late Sunday when lists were totaled, there were fifteen hundred names. More were coming in fast. According to Margot's plan it would be possible to maintain action for at least a week, longer if enthusiasm could be sustained.
Among the men with regular jobs who volunteered help, some like Deacon Euphrates had vacation time due which they declared they would use. Others simply said they would absent themselves as needed. Regrettably, many who volunteered were unemployed, their numbers swelled recently by a seasonal work shortage.
But women predominated, in part because of their greater availability in daytime, but also because even more than with the men Forum East had become a cherished, hopeful beacon in their lives.
Margot was aware of this, both from her advance staff work and this morning's reports.
The reports she was getting so far were highly satisfactory.
It had been Margot's insistence that at all times, and particularly during direct contacts with bank representatives, everyone in the Forum East contingent should be friendly, courteous, and ostensibly helpful. This was the mason for the phrase, "Act of Hope," which Margot coined, and the projected image that a group of interested individuals though with limited means was coming to the "help" of an FMA "in trouble."
She suspected, shrewdly, that any suggestion that First Mercantile American Bank was in trouble would touch a sensitive nerve.
And while there would be no concealment of the Forum East connection, at no point would outright threats be made, as for example that paralysis of the big bank would continue unless construction funds were reinstated. As Margot told Seth Orinda and the others, "Let the bank come to that conclusion."
At briefing sessions she had underlined the need to avoid any appearance of menace or intimidation. Those who attended the sessions made notes, then passed the instructions on.
Something else passed on were lists of questions to be asked by individuals while accounts were being opened. Margot had prepared those, too. There were hundreds of legitimate questions which anyone dealing with a bank could reasonably ask, though for the most part people didn't. Their ancillary effect would be to slow the bank to a near halt.
Seth Orinda would act as spokesman if an opportunity occurred. Margot's script needed little rehearsal Orinda was a quick study.
Deacon Euphrates had been assigned to be early in line and the first to open an account.
It was Deacon no one knew whether Deacon was a given name or a title from one of the offbeat religions in the area who headed the staff work in advising volunteers where to go and when. He had worked with an army of lieutenants, fanning out like radii of a spider web.