by A N Sandra
“Great,” Sadie told him. His eyes locked with hers and Sadie didn’t know if it was the last time or not, but she put her best game face on. “I’ll be right back.”
Waitresses at Crackhouse always got their own soup and entree salads. Today Sadie marched up to the soup station. There were always two pots of soup. The Signature Soup (Nebraska Beef Barley) and the Soup of the Day, which was usually vegan to keep all the guests content. Sadie ladled Doctor Justin’s soup into a small bowl with a crusty piece of bread next to it on a charger and took it to him. As she walked by his table she tripped over a purse strap that had been left lying in the way and the soup went all over him. Only someone in the hospitality industry would have noted that the purse did not belong to any customer currently eating. Tilly had planted it there. It was one she had made herself. Sadie timed the incident with magnificence that would have given anyone in the film industry pause.
“Oh, God!” Doctor Justin moaned. “I have important meetings when I leave here today!”
“I’ve got it!” Tilly was instantly there with a clean cloth in her hand.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” Doctor Justin stood up. Sadie, who had been wiping soup off herself, managed to bump into him as he tried to exit the table. Doctor Justin grimaced as she managed to move out of the way to let him pass.
“Go get yourself straightened up,” Tilly told Sadie. “I’ll fix this!”
Sadie went back to the employee break area and hastily cleaned herself up while Maddy and Annalise took over her tables as well as they could.
Doctor Justin left the set after his brief trip to the bathroom and Molly Hollister greeted him on the street right before his driver met him at the curb. Sadie was back on the floor in time to see Doctor Justin squeeze Molly’s elbow before he got into the car. Sadie blinked back tears and went back to work, waiting for her public humiliation.
“It was an accident,” Tilly said, trying to save Sadie from being voted off the show as the Front of the House group sat in Rodney’s former office.
“Who cares?” Ashley the alternate hostess shrugged. “It happened, and we lost. We need to dump the person most responsible for losing. It’s what we’ve done since Brandon.”
“Let’s face it,” Annalise spoke up in a rare moment of self-assertion. “Sadie makes our whole team look good. She’s more than beautiful and we need her in the future.”
“Should we vote you off then?” Ashley asked with a cold look. “You barely pull your weight every time.”
“Vote me off if you want,” Annalise said bravely.
Sadie wondered if Annalise really did want off the show. It must be easier being a single mother in Hollister Manor where instead of grocery shopping and fixing meals there was room service. There was also laundry service and maid service, so Annalise was free to spend a lot of time playing with her daughter and enjoying her since she wasn’t working and keeping up with household chores. More than once Annalise had mentioned that the large paychecks they were all getting since they couldn’t work were helping her catch up on legal bills. And she was finally able to make life plans now that she wasn’t rushing from work to her daughter’s daycare to home in a frantic circle.
All the staff enjoyed spare time at Hollister Manor. Most of them were working out, reading, doing things they never got a chance to do in day-to-day life. When it was time to film One Tough Customer, though, every one of them felt the stress of knowing that they might look like a fool on national television at any second.
“I deserve to be voted off,” Sadie said. “I’ll vote myself off.”
“Thank you,” Ashley said looking around at the group in satisfaction.
Billy, who had made a couple of mistakes himself during the episode, was grateful no one had mentioned removing him. If Sadie had protested that she wanted to stay, he probably would have been the one to go. Billy loved spending time at the Hollister Manor bar, picking up female guests for fun romps. He was aware that there were cameras in his room and hoped Molly would be kind enough to give him the videos of his conquests to enjoy later.
All of them looked around at each other one more time, more for the benefit of the cameras than anything else.
“Only Tilly voted to keep Sadie,” Annalise noted for the cameras later. “It’s really inspiring how loyal she is.”
The cameras watched Sadie walk into the dark city night. There was a car waiting to take her back to her apartment. But that would only be a pit stop. Sadie had promised Tilly that she would go to Vermont to check on Tilly’s grandfather and then she would assess what she would do in the face of a very uncertain future.
The driver kept his eyes on the road, not making any conversation, and for once Sadie was annoyed that the driver wasn’t paying attention to her. She felt so jumpy. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved to be off the show or sorry she didn’t win. The funny thing about the show had been that no one had wanted to do it. One member of the staff had even run off rather than participate, but once they had begun, their competitive spirit had taken over. It hurt to slink away alone at night, unsure how Molly was going to spin her departure in the editing session she was probably right in at that moment.
The driver pulled up in front of Sadie’s building wordlessly and simply waited for her to get out. Since she was eleven, men had hopped up to pull out her chair or open doors for her. She had a lot of complications that came with being beautiful and it was hard not to feel that extra courtesy was her due. Fine, I won’t let the door hit me on the way out. Sadie got out of the car, wrestled her bag out, and left the door wide open as she headed to her building, smirking at the driver who cursed as he got out to shut it. The late July night was sweltering, but a cool breeze hit Sadie just as she walked into her stairwell. A man was at the bottom of the stairs sitting cross-legged reading something on his phone. He needed a haircut badly and was wearing a Muppet t-shirt paired with camouflage shorts. The figure stood up as she approached and just for a quarter of a second Sadie was scared. Relief flooded her as she saw who it was.
“Dan!” Sadie didn’t know when she’d been so glad to see a close acquaintance. She threw herself on him like a schoolgirl. “I can’t believe I’m feeling so needy because I got voted off a reality show.” And people died from the germs taken out of my arm. That might add to my neediness.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Dan told her calmly. He held her with a perfect grip, not too hard, but firm enough that she felt held. “There’s a lot more to your story than just a reality show right now.”
“I don’t know what’s going on—”
“What’s going on is that you’re not going in your apartment alone. It’s probably bugged.”
“Oh.” Of course. She didn’t get privacy any more. Her own apartment wasn’t a sanctuary it was a trap.
“Tilly texted me. I’m in over my head trying to learn stuff about the Hollisters before it’s too late. I’ll go up with you to your place, you can get some things, and I’m hoping to send you to Vermont to check on my gramps.”
After weeks of no privacy at Hollister Manor Sadie felt sick at the idea of tiptoeing around her whole apartment to avoid giving Molly Hollister more insight into her life. She’d been getting huge paychecks from Hollister Media to make being on One Tough Customer more palatable, and other than rent she’d banked most of the money she’d made.
“I can afford to buy whatever I need,” Sadie said softly. “Let’s just go.”
Dan sighed in relief and both of them walked to the corner to flag a taxi, Sadie pulling her overnight bag behind her on its tiny wheels.
“I’m thinking, come to my house tonight, and in the morning I’ll rent you a car. You can drive to Vermont and surprise Gramps. I’m getting really nervous about Urban Relocation just scooping him up and taking him away. When I call he says everything is fine. I was going to take some time and go see him myself, but I kind of got caught up in some stuff here.”
“I’ve never been to Vermont,” Sadie told him
. A taxi stopped, and both slid inside.
“You’ll make a great outdoors woman,” Dan told Sadie. “You’ll look fantastic in camo.”
CHAPTER 9
Ancient Earth
After opening the long-closed door to his father’s music room, Barden looked at the instruments he remembered Rory playing effortlessly when he was small. The music had caused his young heart to soar as he had snuggled with his mother while they listened. On nights when Barden had been unable to sleep his father had played comforting lullabies while his mother stroked his head. Those days had been long ago. They were almost like a dream.
Barden studied each instrument. Some made of wood and stone, a strange looking silver stick covered with sea shells, some with strings pulled across them, some woven from bendable tree branches. Picking up a small silver instrument shaped like a gourd, he strummed the strings stretched tightly across it and almost dropped it in surprise at the unexpected shrill sound. It was nothing like the sounds his father had made at all. Ursu gave a slight scowl at Barden. A warning to quit hurting his ears.
“I’m sorry,” Barden said contritely to Ursu, who kept frowning just a bit with his large honey colored eyes keeping a skeptical watch on Barden.
Barden became more selective about his strumming, and, in a few hours most of the sounds he made were quite pleasing. As Barden played cautiously with the instruments, it didn’t take long for him to make the sounds into music of a sort. Hours passed, but Barden didn’t notice. Ursu noticed. If Barden had been looking at Ursu he would have seen that the bear was ready to eat.
“I’m coming!” Barden finally noticed that Ursu was leaving the music room to get something to eat. Putting down an instrument that looked very much like a mid-sized harp, Barden followed Ursu to the kitchen where they raided a large crock of cooked yams. Ursu washed his down with cool water from the well below the house that Barden drew up for him. Barden himself drank pomegranate juice with gusto.
“Ummm?” Ursu looked longingly toward the outdoors through the picture window at the back of the kitchen, and so did Barden.
“I promised Mother we wouldn’t leave the house until she returns.” Barden frowned.
Elania let Barden go on long adventures with Ursu in the wild on a regular basis, but she was rightly concerned about the city nearby and did not let Barden go there either with or without her. That morning she had gone to the city to trade wine that she made using Rory’s fabulous techniques for other things the family needed. The wine was sought after. Rory had made barrels of fruitwood to age it in, so the wine was light, fruity, and crisp. Mother would return with meat for Ursu, which was the main thing she traded for. Killing animals for meat made Mother unhappy and so she traded wine, her fine weaving, and strong yet intricate baskets for meat every few weeks. Her small cart would return heaping with smoked meat and the butchers of the city would be dead drunk before she unpacked it all.
Other than the instruments Rory had played for Elania and Barden on the rare occasions he was home and had time to do so, Barden had never heard much music. His mother kept him from mortal social gatherings. Barden made up his own tunes as he strummed strings and tapped drums. The melodies he made were all echoes of nature that he remembered from prowling wilderness areas. The process entranced him even more than when he was exploring the countryside. The sounds resonated not just in his mind, but in his deeper self, and centered him by using all his senses at one time.
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Mother stood at the edge of the room with a dreamy look on her face. “Your father made the most wonderful music also…”
Barden smiled encouragingly at Mother and she sat on a large cushion by Ursu, who was a huge mound of sleeping fur. She listened to Barden strum and drum sound patterns that he varied constantly to see which an improvement was. Watching Mother’s emotions as he played helped Barden to fine tune what he was doing well and what needed improvement. Ursu woke up and looked out the window at the sunny day and all the adventures he was missing, but Barden was taken by the instruments. They fascinated him.
“We’ll go outside later,” Barden promised Ursu, seeing the bear’s wistful face as he looked outside.
The two of them did go out later, but just to the garden for Barden to gather some tomatoes for Mother. The garden had been planted carefully by Father so that there was very little maintenance. It was orderly, with herbs and plants and small fruit trees and grapevines all getting the right amount of sun from the sky due to extraordinary placement, and all those things were watered by an underground system that Rory had devised. Large flagstones between rows kept weeds from growing. Mother worked in the garden about an hour a day and it provided enough food for the three of them, if you counted the wine and other produce she traded for meat. Often, when Barden and Ursu adventured, Ursu caught fish and other small animals to supply his own meat.
Ursu looked sad to go back inside when the large basket of red and yellow tomatoes was full, but they did go in.
“You didn’t tell me anything about your visit to town,” Barden commented to his mother who was fixing dinner as he set down the basket.
“There isn’t anything very nice to tell,” Elania told Barden. She moved the basket of tomatoes to a cool box in the kitchen floor. “It isn’t better than any other time. Witchcraft is taking over more of the town. I don’t think I can go back to the butcher again. He might not be a blood drinker… but his sons are. Horrid young men. They tried to follow me home, but I sent them packing.” Father had left Mother a strange weapon. A crystal that sent blinding rays, making anyone who looked at it too long blinded for a bit. There were other self-defense weapons that Rory had left, but the crystal was mother’s favorite.
“If you don’t go to the butcher Ursu will have to get his own meat,” Barden said. “He can do it… but it’s so messy.”
“Town is messier,” Mother told Barden. “I think it is time to stay away for good.”
Making music in the outdoors became Barden’s favorite thing. Every morning when he was finished with breakfast and helping Mother with chores, he would take instruments outside and make music while Ursu played in the same area. They had a favorite spot where gentle hills made a natural amphitheater. Music would roll off the hills as Barden strummed and drummed and sang.
Small and large animals came to listen to the music, although most of them only came close enough to hear, despite Ursu not being a fierce hunter. Barden suspected that Ursu didn’t like to hunt because when he had to put all his attention into hunting he wasn’t watching Barden.
The best melodies were inspired by the wind. The wind that brought flower petals and grass pollen in the spring, the wind that sent red, gold, and orange leaves dancing in the fall. Snowflakes swirled in the winter breezes, and Barden caught the romance of the wind in many of his songs.
“Someone is listening,” Barden said to Ursu on a warm summer night.
Ursu nodded and bumped along beside Barden’s music. The two of them were playing under the twilight colors of midsummer. As the sun had been fading away Barden had become more and more aware that there were humans listening to his music, but he had little experience with mortals other than his mother. It had been years since he had seen his own relatives.
“Come out!” Barden called good-naturedly. “I just want to see you!”
The shapely form of a young woman appeared from behind a boulder in the distance. Another such form came from behind the same boulder. More of them stood up, exposing themselves to Barden and the gentle evening light gave them an ethereal appearance. Ten young women surrounded Barden, who drew in his breath with pleasure at the attention.
“I’ll play something else for you,” he told them. The young women gathered around him as he picked up a stringed instrument and began to croon an impromptu song dedicated to their beauty. Ursu moaned a little but stayed close to Barden.
“You are amazing,” one of the women breathed when he finished.
“I could listen
to you forever,” another told him.
“And ever.” A young woman with yellow hair that almost glowed in the near dark stepped up to Barden and caressed his arm tenderly.
The woman’s actions emboldened the others and soon Barden was being stroked and petted while Ursu looked on with disapproval.
“You all really like music!” Barden said in awe. “I’ll play more!”
As Barden made even more music for his new fans the women stayed close as if they were glued to him. Ursu kept watch on the women, and when the moon was high in the night sky, he stepped up to Barden and indicated that the women were to leave. Ursu didn’t allow the women to follow Barden home.
“They loved my music so much!” Barden told Mother as the two of them ate nuts and fruit together, their favorite evening meal.
“Oh.” Mother laughed a low throaty laugh; a sound Barden had not heard her make since Father left. “They love more than your music. We are going to have to have a talk…”
Ursu quivered while mother explained the reasons the young women sat so close while listening to his music. Barden could hardly believe that so many women would want to do such things with him.
“Really?” Barden kept inquiring as mother kept talking.
“Really,” Mother told Barden. “You are only fourteen years old, but you have been growing faster than ordinary mortals since you were born. You are too young to choose one of these women to mate, but they won’t care. They are mad for your touch.”
The evenings when young women gathered to listen to Barden’s music grew more crowded. They sang along as he sang, they crowded to touch him, clearly lusting after him. But Barden did not choose one of them for his own. He chose all of them. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes in groups, but he gave every woman who wanted to be with him a chance to enjoy his slightly otherworldly touch.
CHAPTER 10
