"Tony, I'm starting to think that you're more trouble than help these days," Jerome accused slyly as the pair seated themselves at the small table in Marcel's bar.

Stunned, Tony looked up from the tablecloth and into the face of his friend. "What are you talking about?" stammered the younger man, confused as to what would have incurred such an accusation.

At the look on Tony's face, Jerome let out a boisterous laugh and patted Tony on the shoulder. "Haven't we agreed that you have to stay out of trouble? How is challenging Sam Lincoln staying out of trouble?"

Suddenly, Jerome's statement came into focus, and Tony sighed in disgust. He had known that the girl would cause him problems. "Is that what you heard?" Tony needed to elucidate Jerome on the reality of what had occurred. "I could hardly avoid him, the way he was walking across the park like that with his gang in tow. I barely spoke a word to him."

"I think you sound a little defensive." Jerome never lost his smirk.

"Well, you sound a little accusatory," Tony retorted, feeling some distress at the idea that he could cause Jerome any trouble.

Finally, Jerome leaned in and smiled as widely as he could. "Relax, Tony. I'm only teasing you because I heard that this encounter involved a very pretty young lady.

That assertion irritated Tony even more. A very pretty young lady. A weak, sentimental young lady from whom he had just run away as if she were a savage lion.

"You should know better than most that you can't believe rumors," Tony insisted. "I was looking out for her because she's friends with my brother." Not a total lie, though Tony hadn't known of the girl's relationship with Mario before interfering with Sam.

At Tony's words, Jerome nodded, a surprised pleasure spreading across his face. "So, Mario's finally pulled his head out of his books, huh? She must be something special."

"I wouldn't know," Tony answered a bit too quickly, and Jerome squinted suspiciously at his friend. "She's only been in town a couple of days, and I've only seen her twice. Hopefully, she can stay out of trouble. Mario certainly doesn't have the sense to take care of her if she keeps courting catastrophe."

Something in Tony's voice must have betrayed his ambivalence regarding the girl because Jerome pressed his lips together and gazed at Tony a bit too intensely. "Sure," Jerome offered noncommittally before turning the subject. "About tonight: I know it's late, but we have a large group. Were you able to gather what we need?"

Shrugging off his discomfort, Tony embraced the change in topic. "Well, I have enough for about fifty people. Do you think that'll be sufficient?"

"Well, it'll be close, so if we have a good turnout, I'll just tell my people not to eat." Jerome shook his finger at Tony. "That includes you."

Those words finally brought a grin to Tony's face. "You'd better consider me one of 'your people.' There's not much I wouldn't do to get this campaign off the ground."

"I know that, Tony. I do. If I didn't trust you like my own brother, I would never have brought you into the middle of this foreign culture with a bunch of people who may prejudge you because of the way you look. I want you to know how brave I consider you."

Tony felt a swell of pride at Jerome's words, but quickly deflected them. "You, Jerome, are the brave one. I have to walk into a dark plaza twice a week and attend meetings with largely poor and oppressed individuals. You are taking on a well-established political and criminal organization that doesn't consider you worth the time to trample over. I'd say you're in a little deeper."

Again, Jerome smiled, this time kindly. "And those poor and oppressed people might resort to equal violence as your politicians and criminals if they are spooked into considering you a threat. Most of them are good men, but some think that the best way to succeed is to paint you all as enemies."

"Alright," Tony conceded, feeling almost as uncomfortable with the current discussion as with the former one. "We're both treading in snake-infested waters, so maybe we should quit talking and start trudging our way across the river."

Pulling back his chair, Jerome stood to his feet, in apparent agreement with Tony's idea, and nodded to Marcel for the check. "Well, let's get moving then!" he stated, and when Tony stood as well, the older man turned to head out the back door toward the meeting place that could launch Jerome's nascent political career. Euphoria began to swirl around Tony's brain, adrenaline pumping a rewarding jolt into his psyche.

When he and Jerome entered the darkened room on the ground level of an adjacent building, Tony could hardly recognize a face. The dimness bathed most of the men in shadows. Too, the murky light gave the meeting a seedy feel, but Tony knew some of the people whom Jerome had chosen to invite, and he felt confident that a lot of high-quality people stood murmuring in the gloom. Tony did not know how many of the “lesser quality” men would attend, however, and the thought gave him hesitation as he passed through the crowd and toward the front.

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"Gentlemen," Jerome greeted several huddles as he walked, and Tony tried to melt into the background, a feat he had never accomplished too well. It seemed even less likely in a room comprised almost entirely of men with skin two or three shades darker than his own. Under normal circumstances, Tony didn't pay much attention to physical appearance, but with Jerome's words ringing in his ears, Tony couldn't quite dismiss the difference. ...might resort to equal violence, he heard in the back of his mind.

Though he had lived almost twenty-one years, Tony had, he now realized, rarely encountered any true danger. Though he would not waver from what he and Jerome had undertaken, Tony's valor faltered slightly in light of the circumstances. To counteract his nerves, Tony did his best to seem unassuming and stayed close to Jerome's side.

"Welcome," Jerome finally turned and addressed the room. "Hopefully, some of you have passed the first test in my quest to find good men who can help me further this plan that I have undertaken."

Tony listened with only half his attention as he made his way to the side of the room, heading toward a group of young men who hovered purposely in the corner. Speaking in a subdued tone, he directed them to the supplies that rested in the back of Marcel's and instructed them as to how to distribute them properly. The larger than expected gathering of men would exhaust everything Tony had brought, and he felt gratified at the turnout. Glancing around the room, he even recognized two faces that he himself had told of the meeting.

"Now, I can tell you," Tony heard as he focused back on Jerome, "that I do not take this calling lightly. I have resisted involving myself in traditional politics for several years, despite the rather insistent pressure that some of you have placed upon me."

Snickers fluttered through the room, and Tony breathed a sigh of relief at the relaxed tone that the gathering had taken on.

"But I have found that, though many of you would find it hard to believe, there is a growing movement in the larger St. Louis community to break down some of the barriers that have placed a noose around the neck of this city. We know that the rivalry between gangs has brought about more violence than we could imagine. Only a decade ago, our sister town on the other side of the river saw a travesty that we would do well to stave off, and though I know that some of you disagree, we have the kind of community in St. Louis that can reach across social barriers. We have more in common than we have differences."

A hushed murmur broke out for a moment, but quickly silenced when Jerome continued.

"I have invited you here tonight for one of two reasons: either you are a leader in our neighborhood community, or you are someone from St. Louis at large who I think will prove sympathetic to our cause. On my own, I would never have presumed to put myself up to either the prestige or the scrutiny that comes from a life in politics, but several of you have convinced me that the most important thing that we can do to correct the local problems is to replace the old system of corruption – which sees the world as black and white, Irish and Italian, Swedish, French, or Polish – with a new system which sees us as first and foremost Americans, and secondly, as St. Louisans. My goal is to knock down those elements that have held us prisoner to violence - the gangs that roam our streets and buy our politicians - and replace them with a system of honesty and merit."

Despite his total agreement, Tony couldn't help the visceral boredom he felt at hearing a political speech. If he hadn't known Jerome well, Tony would have considered the speech in the same category as all the other political rhetoric that came out of that occupation. His knowledge of Jerome, however, almost managed to erase the usual cynicism.

Jerome actually believed everything he had said, and he held just the right amount of tenacity and charm to see his ideas through to fruition. Though the theories sounded a bit idealistic, Tony knew that Jerome was no fool and would easily have the strength of character to follow through with the ideas.

A lone pair of hands began to clap, followed by others until the room filled with the sound. After a few minutes, the tumult died down, and Jerome finished his speech with an appeal. "I called you here because I need you to spread the word in your spheres of influence. Let them know who I am and what I long to accomplish. You hold my future in your hands, and if I haven't garnered enough confidence from you to throw your support behind me, then I don't deserve to rise to any position of importance. If you want to be an active part of my campaign for city council, then come talk to me in a moment, after you've helped yourself to some refreshment, and we can discuss how you can contribute to this undertaking that I hope will benefit our entire community. Thank you."

Though the applause didn't return, an enthusiastic roar of voices filled the room, and Tony felt confident that the majority of attendees approved of Jerome's campaign in one way or another. A few disgruntle faces gathered in a clump on one side of the room, and though Tony could not hear them, he could see the sour bent of their mouths as they spoke to each other. Surprisingly, the cluster consisted of several variations of skin-tone, and Tony recognized at least one Irishman whom he would not have expected to support Jerome.

Tony made his way to where Jerome stood socializing with a group of supporters, and after a minute, Jerome turned to pin his young friend with a serious gaze. Motioning to the side, Tony stepped a few feet from the main crowd and, after a nod from Jerome, waited patiently for the now-declared politician to extricate himself from the masses.

"Did someone die?" Jerome teased upon seeing Tony's morose expression.

"Did you invite one of Moran's men?" Tony responded seriously, nodding toward the cluster of dissenters.

A brooding expression overtook Jerome's features, and Tony could see by its intensity that the guest had arrived uninvited. "I guess it's already starting," Jerome pronounced solemnly, and Tony felt a chill for the first time since he had embarked on his quest to aid Jerome.

Unbidden, Tony's thoughts began to race, and he discerned that an intellectual understanding of risks did not equate to the full comprehension of true danger. Knowing what he knew about the Moran gang, Tony now had a more intimate sense of foreboding, and a quiver of anxiety serpentined down his spine.