I've been a bit busy the past couple of days - including dealing with a plumber - so this is a bit short. I just hope it's readable.

The Angel of Chicago

Part Six: Collisions

by

Rodford Edmiston

Melody and Arielle didn't have much time to catch up.

"Unfortunately, Dad wants to see you as soon as you are unpacked."

"Give me five minutes," said Melody, even as she turned and hurried towards the bedroom.

"Five minutes?" said Arielle, laughing. "How unladylike!"

The two of them walked in an unhurried manner - that pace at Arielle's insistence - towards the center of town. Apparently, most transportation in Haven was by foot, though Melody saw several vehicles, mostly electric.

"Dad is watching the installation of a new windmill out back of the town hall," said Arielle. "That's why he had me come to meet you. They asked him to be nearby in case there was an accident. Though I think they wanted him mostly for moral support."

"Town hall?" said Melody, who remembered noticing several modern windmills on the drive to the town.

"This place is pretty old fashioned, for several reasons. We don't even have any connections with the outside except for power and a few telephones, and we actually produce a lot of the power we use. Oh! Radios - including two-way - are also allowed. Dad and several others think that talking over ham radios to people in other places is beneficial to many of those here."

Melody noticed that Arielle's manner was rather different, here, than it had been in New York. She seemed younger, more... well, bouncy. All of which was likely explained by being here, with her father, whom she obviously had great affection for.

They turned a corner and saw the workmen and several others in the large yard behind the town hall. Melody needed several seconds to spot "Dad" as they walked closer to the small crowd gathered to watch the project. With a start, she realized the lean man others were giving almost as much attention to as the work was Aaron Labelle. For some reason, she had expected to identify him by the wings, but he was currently in his merely human form.

Aaron Labelle was a short, slim man with dark hair and dark eyes, as well as a scar in front of his left temple. A casual observer might have dismissed him as insignificant... except for his eyes. Something very old looked out from his apparently youthful orbs.

Melody was nervous - understandably, she felt - as Arielle led her to the man.

"Hello, Dad!" she called out above the noise of people and machinery.

"Lioness!" he replied, spinning around with a grin on his face.

He grabbed her in an affectionate hug, which she enthusiastically returned. Melody noticed that Arielle was taller than her father. As well as darker.

"Dad, this is Melody."

"Welcome to Haven," said Aaron, taking her offered hand in both of his and beaming at her. "Arielle has told me a great deal about you."

Not too much, I hope.

"I am very pleased to be here, but remember this is a business trip for me."

"Well, we can get together someplace quieter for an interview later," said Aaron. He glanced at the tower. "They're just about to raise the last blade and bolt it in place."

* * *

They spoke some during the last stages of construction, but most of the empowered man's attention was on the windmill. By the time it was generating electricity and Aaron felt his honor had been satisfied the afternoon was nearing a close. He suggested that he, his daughter and Melody have supper together at the town cafeteria in an hour. His treat.

Melody wondered if he were stalling, but given that she was still in her traveling clothes she appreciated the break. Come to think of it, Arielle had heightened senses. Perhaps her father did, as well. Maybe she was coming on stronger than she realized.

Melody found her way to the cafeteria building a bit ahead of time, grateful for the opportunities to both grab a shower and don different clothes. As it happened (Or had they planned it that way?) her hosts walked up from a different direction just as she neared the door.

"Could we sit somewhere with a view of who else is here?" said Melody, as they walked inside. "I want to get an idea of who lives in your town."

"Of course," said Aaron, with a gracious smile.

They went through the line together, Melody expressing pleased surprise at the variety and menu. Once their trays were full Aaron picked a corner table which had both a view of the dining room and - through windows - a large part of the town. Having had an unsatisfying lunch on the plane, Melody found her supper very fulfilling.

As with her first meal with Arielle, Melody found the three of them speaking only of innocuous things until desert. Once that was underway, she broached her first serious question to Aaron.

"I know you started your career in Chicago," said Melody. "I know you still do a lot of work there. However, you focus on Haven. So why do they still call you the Angel of Chicago?"

"Yes, I keep telling them I'm not an angel," said Aaron, mock seriously. He smiled at her. "I'm sure you know how hard it is to change a popular misconception. Maybe you can use your press skills to convince people the nickname is undeserved in one part and now inappropriate in another part."

"Well, they should know you're not an angel," said Melody, smiling back. "You don't have a halo."

"Actually, only saints have halos. The confusion comes from some saints being portrayed as angels."

Melody found talking with the empowered man to be very easy; much like his daughter. He had a casual manner which managed to convey that he was taking you seriously without being too serious. She spent several more minutes on background, for both Aaron and his town. However, once they were finished eating and leaving the cafeteria she moved on to her main line of inquiry.

"Why were you after Mannequin?" said Melody, as they began walking slowly around town.

"I got word from a reliable source that Mannequin was planning something big," said Aaron. He pointed. "That rather plain building was the first one here. It was a combination dormitory and meeting room, with a small infirmary in the back. Today we mostly use it for storage."

"So you tracked Mannequin to the theater?" Melody appreciated the additional information, but wasn't going to let him distract her from her main line of inquiry.

"In that general direction, but not all the way. It just seemed like the sort of event Mannequin would relish disrupting."

"So what happened to Mannequin after you left with him?"

"I'm sorry, but that's privilege information."

"On what basis is it privileged?"

"Dad is a licensed therapist," said Arielle, proudly.

"I did not know that," said Melody, startled. "Can you give me any information on Mannequin?"

"Mannequin is currently in therapy by people much better at that than I am," said Aaron, sounding confident. "Good progress is being made."

"What do you know about the coverup of the security deficiencies at the theater?"

"This is the first I heard of it."

"According to inside sources, Blackpool was upset that there was no followup to his report, and intended to investigate on his own," said Melody. "Now he's missing."

"He's frequently on covert missions," said Aaron, unconcerned. "His stated intent to investigate the awards show attack further is probably misdirection."

They continued like this for nearly an hour, walking in a relaxed manner around the small town while Melody asked questions, Aaron answered them and occasionally pointed out something about the place, and Arielle sometimes made observations of her own.

"This is remarkable a remarkable place," said Melody, as they finished their constitutional back at her cabin. "To paraphrase a saying about war, this isn't heaven, but you can see it from here. It makes..."

She stopped, obviously embarrassed, realizing that what had started as an observation had turned into gushing.

"It makes you wonder why the whole world can't be like this," said Aaron, with a smile and nod of understanding. "First and foremost, this is a place for the wounded. For people who need peace and calm to heal. Who need a hot meal and a hot bath and proper medical care they can't afford while they are healing."

His smile turned wry.

"We don't get a lot of work done, here."

While she was still trying to parse that he laughed.

"I'm exaggerating. Things do get done. Just look at today's windmill installation. That should put us over the top, into the net electrical production range. However, it is very rare for anything new to get done."

"I... think I understand," said Melody, nodding slowly. "People need some stimulus to motivate them to produce something creative."

"Some of the greatest works of literature were made as a result of emotional or social turmoil," said Aaron, nodding again. "Of course, some of the greatest works of literature were made by wealthy people with comfortable, secure lives who simply felt the need to write."

"Folks are different all over," said Melody.

"Even when they're demonstrating how much alike we all are," said Arielle.

"Speaking of which," said Aaron, "there's a concert and dance at the bandstand later. Come and see what we're like when we're having fun."

* * *

When Melody arrived at the concert she found Arielle waiting for her.

"I'm so glad you decided to attend," the older woman gushed.

"Uhm..." said Melody, blushing and looking around.

"Don't worry," said Arielle, leaning in and speaking quietly. "Two of my Dad's first friends in Chicago were people who had to hide their love for each other. He's made sure folks here are very accepting."

To Melody's astonishment, she could see several same-sex couples already dancing to the hoedown. That not everyone approved was obvious, but no-one openly objected.

"C'mon," said Arielle, grinning as she took Melody's hand. "We're all friends, here."

* * *

"I do have one question about all this, though," said Melody, at Aaron's home that night. Despite Arielle's reassurances, she was surprised to find that he had only a pleased response when she accepted his daughter's invitation to post concert conversation and coffee.

"What happens if I die," said Aaron in a matter-of-fact way, nodding.

"Dad!" said his daughter.

"Oh, don't worry. I plan to be around for a good, long time, yet."

"Yes, but getting back to that," said Melody, not surprised he had guessed her point. "You're much more than a figurehead."

"Yes, but I am not the only person working to keep this town running," he said, firmly. "Not even the only empowered. Most deliberately stay in the background, in part so they won't be targeted if I am. I have also worked for decades to make the actual town government as independent of me as I can."

Melody was impressed. Aaron wasn't some idealist - or, rather, was not only an idealist - but someone who worked in the real world to solve real problems.

"Anyway, as pleasant as this has been we're are farm time here and it's getting late," said Aaron.

"Oh; I'm sorry," said Melody, startled as she looked at the clock in Aaron's den. "The time got away from me. Well, good night, and thank you for the coffee and the conversation."

"I'll walk you back to the cabin," said Arielle, perhaps a bit too hastily.

"I'd like that," said Melody, blushing. "It's... well, the way isn't familiar to me and you don't have a lot of street lights."