"Gerry, too?" Teddy asked.

Dallie hesitated. "I guess that's up to Gerry."

Teddy wasn't Feeling so dizzy now, and he took a few steps closer to the protective grating at the edge. Dallie wasn't quite as eager to move forward, but he did, too. "You and I still have some things to talk about, you know," Dallie said.

"I want one of those King Kongs," Teddy declared abruptly.

Dallie saw that Teddy still wasn't ready for any father-son revelations, and he swallowed his disappointment. "I have something to ask you."

"I don't want to talk about it." Teddy mutinously laced his fingers through the metal grating.

Dallie laced his fingers through, too, hoping he could get this next part right. "Did you ever go to play

with a friend, and when you got there you found out that he had built something special when you

weren't around? A fort, maybe, or a castle?"

Teddy nodded warily.

"Maybe he made a swing when you weren't around, or built a racetrack for his cars?"

"Or maybe he built this neat planetarium out of garbage bags and a flashlight," Teddy interjected.

"Or a planetarium out of garbage bags," Dallie quickly amended. "Anyway, maybe you looked at this planetarium, and you thought it was so terrific that you felt a little jealous you hadn't made it yourself." Dallie let go of the fence, keeping his eyes on Teddy to make sure the boy was following him. "So, because you were jealous, instead of telling your friend what a great planetarium he'd made, you sort of stuck your nose up in the air and told him you didn't think what he'd made was all that terrific, even though it was about the best planetarium you'd ever seen."

Teddy nodded slowly, interested that a grown-up would know about something like that. Dallie rested his arm on top of a telescope that was pointing toward New Jersey. "That's pretty much what happened when I saw you."

"It is?" Teddy declared in astonishment.

"Here's this kid, and he's a real great kid-smart and brave-but I didn't have anything to do with making him that way, and I was jealous. So instead of saying to his mom, 'Hey, you raised yourself a pretty neat kid,' I acted like I didn't think the kid was all that great, and that he would have been a lot better if I'd been around to help raise him." He searched Teddy's face, trying to read by his expression whether he was following, but the boy wasn't giving anything away. "Could you understand something like that?" he asked finally.

Another child might have nodded, but a child with an I.Q. of one hundred sixty-eight needed some time

to sort things out. "Could we go look at those rubber King Kongs now?" he asked politely.


* * *

The Statue of Liberty ceremony took place on a poet's day in May, complete with a soft, balmy breeze, a cornflower blue sky, and the lazy swoop of sea gulls. Three launches decorated with red, white, and blue bunting had crossed New York Harbor toward Liberty Island that morning and had landed at the dock where the Circle Line ferry normally disgorged tourists. But for the next few hours, there would be no tourists, and only a few hundred people populated the island.

Lady Liberty towered over a platform that had been specially built on the lawn at the south side of the island next to the statue's base. Normally, public ceremonies were held in a fenced-in area behind the statue, but the White House advance team thought this location, beneath the face of the statue and with an unblocked view of the harbor, was more photogenic for the press. Francesca, in a pale pistachio dress with an ivory silk-shantung jacket, sat in a row with the other honorees, various government dignitaries, and a Supreme Court Justice. At the lectern, the President of the United States talked about the promise of America, his words echoing from the loudspeakers set up in the trees.

"We celebrate here today-old and young, black and white, some from humble roots, others born into prosperity. We have different religions and different political beliefs. But as we rest in the shadow of the great Lady Liberty, we are all equals, all inheritors of the flame…"

Francesca's heart was so full of joy she thought she would burst. Each participant had been permitted to invite twenty guests, and as she gazed out over her diverse group, she realized that these people she had come to love represented a microcosm of the country itself.

Dallie, wearing an American flag pin on the lapel of his navy suit coat, sat with Miss Sybil on one side of him, Teddy and Holly Grace on the other. Behind them, Naomi leaned to one side to whisper something in her husband's ear. She looked healthy after having given birth, but she seemed nervous, undoubtedly worried about leaving her four-week-old baby girl even for half a day. Both Naomi and her husband wore black armbands to protest apartheid. Nathan Hurd sat with Skeet Cooper, an interesting combination of personalities in Francesca's opinion. From Skeet to the end of the row stretched a group of young female faces-black and white, some with too much makeup, but all of them possessing a spark of hope in their own futures. They were Francesca's runaways, and she had been touched when so many of them wanted to be with her today. Even Stefan had called her from Europe this morning to congratulate her, and she had pried out the welcome news that he was currently enjoying the affection of the beautiful young widow of an Italian industrialist. Only Gerry hadn't acknowledged her invitation, and Francesca missed him. She wondered if he was still angry with her because she had turned down his latest demand to appear on her program.

Dallie caught her looking at him and gave her a private smile that told her as clearly as if he'd spoken the words how much he loved her. Despite their superficial differences, they had discovered that their souls were a matched set.

Teddy had snuggled over close to Holly Grace instead of to his father, but Francesca thought that situation would soon resolve itself and she didn't permit it to disturb her pleasure in the day. In a week

she and Dallie would be married, and she was happier than she had ever been in her life.

The President was revving up for a big finish. "And so America is still the land of opportunity, still the home of individual initiative, as witnessed by the success of those we honor this day. We are the greatest country in the world…"

Francesca had done programs on the homeless in America, on poverty and injustice, racism and sexism. She knew all the country's flaws, but for now she could only agree with the President. America wasn't a perfect country; it was too often self-serving, violent, and greedy. But it was a country that frequently

had its heart in the right place, even if it couldn't always get all the details worked out correctly.

The President finished to a rousing ovation, captured by the network cameras for airing on the news that night. Then the Supreme Court Justice stepped forward. Although she couldn't see Ellis Island behind her, Francesca felt its presence like a blessing, and she thought of all those throngs of immigrants who had come to this land with only the clothes on their backs and the determination to make a new life for themselves. Of all the millions who had passed through these golden gates, surely she had been the most worthless.

Francesca stood along with the others, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she remembered a twenty-one-year-old girl in a pink antebellum gown trudging down a Louisiana road carrying a Louis Vuitton suitcase. She lifted her hand and began to repeat the words being spoken by the Supreme Court Justice.

"I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state or sovereignty…"

Good-bye, England, she thought. It wasn't your fault that I made such a muddle of things. You're a good old country, but I needed a rough, young scrapper of a place to teach me how to stand on my own.

"… that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic…"

She would try her best, even though the responsibilities of citizenship awed her. If a society was to

remain free, how could it take those duties lightly?

"… that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States…"

Gracious, she certainly hoped not!

"… that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by law…"

Next month, she was to testify before a congressional committee on the problem of runaways, and she had already started forming an organization to raise funds to build shelters. With "Francesca Today" broadcasting only once a month, she would finally have a chance to give something back to the country that had already given her so much.

"… that I take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God."

As the ceremony ended, a series of Texas cheers went up from the audience. With tears in her eyes, Francesca watched her guests making spectacles of themselves. Then the President greeted the new citizens, followed by the Supreme Court Justice and the other government dignitaries. A band struck up the first bars of "Stars and Stripes Forever," and the White House staff member who was in charge of the ceremony began moving the participants toward bunting-draped tables set up under the trees and laden with punch and tea sandwiches, just like a Fourth of July picnic.

Dallie got through the crowd to her first, a Texas-size grin spread all over his face. "The last thing this country needs is another voting liberal, but I'm real proud of you anyway, honey."

Francesca laughed and hugged him. On the east side of the island there was a noisy roar from the lawn as the presidential helicopter took off, bearing away the Chief Executive and some of the ceremony's other dignitaries. With the President gone, the mood of the occasion relaxed. As the helicopter disappeared, an announcement was made that the statue had been opened for private viewing by those who wished to enter.

"I'm proud of you, Mom," Teddy said. She gave him a squeeze.

"You looked almost as good up there as that Korean dress designer," Holly Grace told her. "Did you know he had on pink socks with rhinestone butterflies?" Francesca appreciated Holly Grace's attempt at good humor, especially since she knew it was mostly pretense. Too much of Holly Grace's sparkle had faded over the past few months.

"Over here, Miss Day," one of the photographers called out.

She smiled into the camera and talked to everyone who came up to greet her. Her former runaways lined up to meet Dallie. They flirted with him outrageously, and he flirted right back until he had them all giggling. The photographers wanted pictures of Holly Grace, and each of the networks asked to film a brief interview with Francesca. After she had finished the last one, Dallie pressed a cup of punch into her hands. "Have you seen Teddy?"

Francesca glanced around. "Not for a while." She turned to Holly Grace who had just come up next to them. "Have you seen Teddy?"

Holly Grace shook her head. Dallie looked worried and Francesca smiled at him. "We're on an island," she said. "He can't get into too much trouble."

Dallie didn't seem convinced. "Francie, he's your son, too. With a gene pool like that to draw from, it seems to me he could manage to get into trouble just about anywhere."

"Let's go look for him." She offered the suggestion more from a desire to be alone with Dallie than from any concern about Teddy. The island was closed to tourists for another hour. What harm could come to him?

As she set down her punch cup, she noticed that Naomi was clutching Ben Perlman's hand and looking up into the sky. Shielding her eyes, Francesca looked up, too, but all she saw was a small plane circling overhead. And then she noticed that something seemed to have dropped from the plane. As she watched, a square-canopy parachute opened. One by one, the people around her gazed up into the sky and observed the descent of the parachutist toward Liberty Island.

As he fell, a long white banner gradually unfurled behind him. It had letters printed on it in black, but they were impossible to read as the wind whipped the banner in one direction and then the other, threatening to tangle in the parachutist's rig. Suddenly the banner straightened.

Francesca felt a set of sharp fingernails digging into the sleeve of her silk shantung jacket. "Oh, my God," Holly Grace whispered.

The eyes of every onlooker-as well as those of the network television cameras-were glued to the banner and the message it carried: