The Graceland Tales

by Donna D. Prescott

  KIRK THE EVANGELIST: You mean this isn’t the end of the story? For heaven’s sake, Doris’s husband came home. Larry should back off.

  FRANKLIN: Just wait. The weather had been unusually dry and weather forecasters warned residents to prepare for a dust storm. The night of the dust storm happened to be the night of a full moon. Verne had to work late at the store, so Doris spent the evening with friends, listening to reports on the radio of the impending storm. After the worst of the storm, a knock came on the door. It was Larry. He asked Doris to step outside with him. He pointed to the sky. Lo and behold, the moon looked blue! He reminded her of her promise. She could only think, ‘When my blue moon turns to gold again.’ She looked at Larry in disbelief. The blood drained from her face. She told him that he shouldn’t have taken her seriously, that she didn’t think he could accomplish a stunt such as change the color of the moon, and besides, her husband had returned from overseas. At this point, Verne got home from work. As he got out of the car, he heard Doris speaking loudly and saw her gesturing frantically. He approached the two, put his arm around Doris, and told Larry he should leave. Larry explained to Verne the deal Doris had made with him. Verne asked Doris if it were true. She said unfortunately, yes, it was, but she didn’t mean it. Then she shouldn’t have made that promise, said Larry.

  HECTOR: It’s like the corrupt priest who tempted fate in Rene/e’s Tale.

  FRANKLIN: Yeah, it is. But this is a true story, not a folk tale. So, the three of them agreed that they would meet the next Friday at Hoppers to sort out the situation. Verne understood that Doris meant no malice, that she made her promise in order to try to get Larry to leave her alone. Her love for Verne was never in question. It was a matter of Verne’s honor. His wife made a promise that she must keep.

  KING ARTHUR: (leaning into the aisle and looking back) Hey, Donna, doesn’t this story remind you of the damsel’s rash promise in Chaucer’s Franklin’s Tale?

  DONNA THE NARRATOR: (smiling sweetly at ERNEST) Why yes, King Arthur, it does indeed.

  FRANKLIN: That Friday at Hopper’s, Verne told Larry that he could have the evening with Doris and her promise would be satisfied. After that night, Verne never wanted to see Larry anywhere near either one of them ever again. Doris was crestfallen but knew she had to do as her husband asked. Verne dropped Doris off at Hoppers and went home. Doris hunched in a booth and cried quietly. Larry sat for several minutes and then told Doris he would take her home. He respected the relationship she had with her husband and was sorry he had caused trouble. Doris, euphoric, kissed his cheek. Verne and Doris went on to have a long, happy marriage and several children.

  JOYCE: And a story for the neighborhood.

  FRANKLIN: Larry, however, still intended to honor the promise he made to Jed for hooking him up with the professor. It was a matter of Larry’s honor. It would mean taking out a large loan to cover Jed’s tuition and books. Larry went to Jed and explained that he intended to honor his promise but needed time to borrow the money. Jed asked if the professor had helped him out. Larry said yes, but explained that he sent Doris back to her husband because of the great love they had for one another. Jed said that if Verne could send Doris to Larry, and Larry could send Doris back to Verne, then he could forgive Larry’s debt.

  And so, friends, the question I want to put in front of you is this: which man was the most kind?

  “Kind? Are you kidding? What kind of husband would send his wife on a date with another man because of a rash promise she made?” asks Kirk.

  “This sounds like a question for your lawyer wife to answer,” says Senator Pam.

  “This situation is something that might have happened in medieval times, but not in today’s world,” says Alice the Widow, At the Church Door open in her lap.

  “In medieval times, the word ‘kind’ had more of a meaning of ‘natural.’ I think most of us agree that at least Verne’s and Larry’s actions are unnatural in today’s world. What kind of husband would sent his wife on a date with another man? What kind of man would so doggedly pursue another man’s wife in the face of her consistent refusals?” King Arthur asks.

  “I would also ask what kind of friend would encourage his friend to so doggedly pursue a married woman who has clearly indicated that she is not interested,” says ASCII-me a Techie.

  “So we move from a tale where a woman initially agrees to let her friends try to entrap her future husband in infidelity to a tale where a husband sends his wife into the arms of another man?” says Ernest the Businessman. “And you two are on your honeymoon? I think I’ll start a pool on how long this marriage will last!”

  Franklin puts his arm around Blanche’s shoulders and squeezes. “My lawyer wife has made sure we have an airtight pre-nup, but I’m certainly not sending her into the arms of anyone else. I saw her at her worst before I ever saw her at her best, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt, she’s the one for me!”

  Dwight the Lay Minister says, “I have a story about a squabble between an old married couple. I don’t think Blanche could help them out. She might could learn something, a warning of how not to behave, maybe to share with her clients.” Dwight runs his hand through his comb-over and heads to the middle of the coach to begin his tale.

  Dwight

  THE LAY MINISTER’S TALE

  DWIGHT: One Saturday afternoon, me and another church member were out witnessing in a neighborhood near our church. We go out on Saturdays because people tend to be at home, not at work, and we figure if we talk to them on Saturday, they’re more likely to come to church the next day. We have an old school bus that comes around and picks people up who need a ride or kids if their parents don’t want to come to church themselves. So we were out. As we came up to this one house, a teenager threw open the front door and ran out, bobbling this yappy little dog. Another teenager was right behind him with a pillow case full of stuff. We heard a woman inside yelling, ‘Stop! You come back here with my dog! I’m calling the police! You better bring my Norma back right now!’ Now, I’m not the biggest guy but I was able to trip up the kid with the dog. He fell and dropped the dog. The dog skittered back into the house. The kid rolled a few times and found his feet and ran away. My partner tried to stop the other kid, but he got away, too.

  Since the door was open, we stepped right inside. The woman—she was old—had been in one of those chairs that lifts you up when you can’t get up by yourself, and she had just come to standing and started hobbling towards the door. ‘Call the police!’ she yelled at us, so we did. Her husband was sitting in another lifting recliner chair but had not budged. The little dog jumped into his lap. We saw the old man reach over to a side table, pick up a cookie, and start munching, feeding tidbits to the dog. While we waited for the police to show up, the old lady told us this story.

  She and her husband had been married for sixty-nine years. Sixty-nine. They didn’t have any kids, just the dog, so the dog, Norma, was pretty special. They were in good enough health that they could still stay in their house by themselves, but they depended on programs like Meals on Wheels or on friends or neighbors to bring them food. They weren’t members of a church, so I knew we could minister to them. That morning, a neighbor brought over some lunch for them—some mac and cheese with wienies in it. They ate their lunch, but the neighbor had put in three chocolate cherry almond cookies—the old folks’ favorite—although the neighbor knew Norma was not supposed to have chocolate. It’s not good for dogs, you know—can kill them. The old lady and the old man each ate one cookie, but for some reason, instead of splitting the third cookie in half and sharing, they made a bet that whoever spoke the first word would not get the extra cookie. They were sitting in their recliners, watching some Saturday afternoon show on the TV—Lawrence Welk or some music show—when someone knocked at the door. Neither one of them said anything because of their bet and the knock came again. Again, neither one spoke. They both wanted that cookie. When they didn’t hear another knock, they assumed whoever was the
re went away. Instead, a few minutes later, they heard noises at the back of the house. Two thieves had come in the kitchen since the back door was unlocked. The couple heard the intruders ruffling through stuff in their bedroom, but neither one of the old people was quick on their feet and neither one wanted to say anything and lose the bet and the cookie, so they just sat and didn’t say anything. The little dog kept yapping the whole time the robbers were there but that didn’t bother those crooks. They didn’t stay long. When they came from the back of the house, they saw the old couple. One nudged the other and said, ‘These old people must be deaf since they didn’t answer the front door and they’re not yelling at us.’ One of the burglars grabbed the dog from the old woman’s lap as they headed out the front door. That’s when the old woman started squawking and pressed the button to raise her chair, but by the time she could get up, the thieves were out the door and we showed up.

  She finished her story and turned to the old man. ‘And you!’ she spluttered. ‘You just sat there and let them take our precious Norma! Shame on you!’ ‘Yeah, but that cookie sure was good!’ said the old man as the dog licked the old man’s lips.

  As it turned out, the robbers didn’t get much. They were a couple of high school kids looking to get some extra change for video games.

  Sean the Deacon says, “That old couple was all shook up but not because they were in love.”

  “Since you helped them, did the old couple start coming to your church?” asks Dmitri the Hacker.

  “No. They didn’t even make a donation,” says Dwight with slight disgust. “But the kids who robbed them ended up in Youth Court and were sentenced to community service helping out at our church.” Dwight pulls out his handkerchief and blows loudly as if he were signaling an unmarked train crossing. As he returns to his seat, he grins at Joyce and returns his handkerchief to his pocket. Joyce rolls her eyes.

  “Well, something productive came of your afternoon out witnessing,” says Linda the Humanitarian Worker.

  “Since we’re telling stories about peculiar situations in marriages, I have a story to tell,” says Sean. He looks at Theresa, who just nods. Sean steps into the aisle.

  “Who knows if a couple will be compatible. You never know what truly goes on behind closed doors or what brought that old couple together in the first place.” Sean pauses and looks around. Lights of a small settlement flicker past and darkness falls again. “I was engaged to be married once. My fiancée, Barbara, and I dated for a few years. She came from a wealthy family, old money. When I went to ask Barbara’s father for her hand in marriage, he said no, that as a Catholic deacon I couldn’t support Barbara in the manner in which she was accustomed. Broken hearted, Barbara and I decided to marry anyway. We made arrangements for a quiet ceremony in the Church but ultimately I called it off. Barbara put on a brave face, but I didn’t believe she could live her life estranged from her family, especially once we started having children. I went to work for Hubert then, and my work has kept me busy ever since.”

  “Instead of an arranged marriage, your marriage was unarranged,” quips Adam the Senator’s Aide.

  “Did Barbara ever marry?” asks Blanche the Lawyer.

  “Yes, she married the son of one of her father’s business partners—quite a nice merger it turned out to be—at least for Barbara’s father.”

  Sean

  THE DEACON’S TALE

  SEAN: But anyway, my story of a marriage begins with several young men—professional 30-somethings. They had been out of college long enough to move through two or three different employers. They were established enough in their careers so that they rested largely on their professional accomplishments rather than their college experiences but still needed or wanted to make their marks in their profession. Some of them wanted new challenges. These cocky young men all ended up working at an enterprise called Round Table. Round Table was an information clearinghouse whose slogan was ‘You seek, we find.’ Its corporate goal was to make clients feel like a member of the team.

  Round Table held a team-building retreat so these young men could get to know one another and bond. The keynote address was scheduled for the second night. The speaker—Round Table owner Arthur Prince—was delayed. Rumor circulated among these restless fellows that Prince was holed up in his room with his wife, a possibility some of them envied. After sitting for longer than they felt necessary, these guys decided to go to the bar. As new co-workers, over drinks they fell into stories of past job searches or employers, trying to one-up each other’s stories.

  One fellow, Gary Lot, claimed he had the experience to beat all. Someone ordered another round, and Gary told the tale of an interview he had with a small, quirky, but prestigious company, Broceliande, which specialized in electronic security systems: To apply, you simply sent in a resume. If the owners, Eric and Laurel Knight, were impressed, they called you in for an interview. To Gary’s surprise, the owners themselves conducted the interview, which was held in a windowless room. The session started with polite chit chat about the weather. A woman stuck her head in and told the Knights that she needed to see them for a minute. After they stepped out, lights suddenly flickered and thunder claps boomed. In the darkness, Gary found his chair spinning. Then, just as suddenly as this ‘storm’ began, it ended. Gary tried to get out of the room, but the door was locked and he could find no other way out. About ten minutes later, the Knights opened the door and Eric asked Gary what happened next. In answer, Gary thanked them for their time and exited the building so discombobulated that he didn’t even offer to shake hands as he left.

  (ERNEST THE BUSINESSMAN looks up from his KenKen book, intrigued.)

  ‘So you don’t know what they were getting at?’ asked one of his co-workers, Owen Owens. Gary admitted he did not. Some of the guys expressed an interest in interviewing with Broceliande to see if they could figure out the motivation behind the unique interview. Wouldn’t it be fun if all of them tried it, someone suggested. Road trip! a few of them yelled in unison. They talked of attempting this quest immediately after the retreat was over, but then Arthur Prince and his wife appeared, so the group returned to the auditorium, forgetting Gary’s story.

  However, Owen, was intrigued. He liked the challenge of figuring out what the Knights were looking for in this highly unusual interview format. He didn’t hear a word of the keynote, thinking instead of how he might approach this enigma.

  ERNEST: I’ve heard of some crazy approaches to job interviews before, but never anything like that. (He closes his KenKen book.)

  SEAN: After the key note, the guys headed back to the bar. Owen begged off and went to his room instead. He needed to find out as much as he could about Broceliande, so he decided to sneak away from the retreat early. He did not want his absence noted immediately. He wanted more time to work out his plan before he told anyone of his intentions. A co-worker agreed to cover for Owen. Owen worked obsessively for the next few days. First, he sent a resume to Broceliande, counting on getting an interview. After extensive research, he scoped out the building, noting particularly the security set up. Then, he got the call for an interview.

  On the specified day at the Broceliande headquarters, Owen overrode the front door security and entered the building. As he approached the reception desk, a woman emerged from a hallway and asked his name and how he got in. He simply smiled. He observed that for a company that specialized in security, Broceliande should be ashamed and identified himself as Owen Owens, the man who had an interview that day. ‘I look forward to meeting Eric Knight.’ Owen chuckled, and inquired as to the identity of the woman. She identified herself as Luna Brown, the boss’s right hand woman, holding out her hand to shake. ‘Then you can get me directly to him,’ said Owen, shaking hands. Luna informed Owen that the boss these days was a ‘her.’ Surprised, Owen answered that he thought Eric Knight ran the company. ‘Laurel Knight, Eric’s wife, is more hands-on these days,’ said Luna. ‘But under the circumstances, I think Mrs. Knight will be very int
erested in meeting you—immediately.’

  (JACK slips over RENE/E into the aisle and heads to the restroom at the back of the coach.)

  Luna led Owen through a labyrinth of halls to an elevator which ultimately opened to a reception area. Luna told Owen to wait there. She disappeared into Laurel Knight’s office and informed Laurel that the answer to her problems had just circumvented their security system and was in the building, adding that she thought Laurel would be impressed. Laurel asked Luna to elaborate. Luna explained that the man waiting outside, Owen Owens, had an interview scheduled that day. He began by overriding the building security and letting himself in. ‘Show him in. Let me talk with him,’ said Laurel. After Luna closed the door, Laurel asked ‘Well, Mr. Owens, what is it that you want?’ noting that he had her undivided attention. He responded that clearly he wanted to interview for a job with Broceliande. Couldn’t he have followed protocol instead of overriding their security system, countered Laurel, pointing out that after all, he already had an interview scheduled. He replied that he could’ve, but it wouldn’t have been as much fun. He went on, ‘Speaking of fun, enough talk for now. I’m ready for the interview.’ ‘You are rather impatient. Alright, follow me.’ Laurel led Owen out of her office and into the room that Gary had described. ‘Since clearly you know a good bit about Broceliande, I’m going to cut to the chase. Once I leave this room, the door will lock. A simulated storm will happen. Then, you’ll have ten minutes to figure out how to escape. If you escape, I will offer you a job.’ ‘And if I don’t?’ ‘We’ll see.’ ‘I’m ready.’ The situation happened exactly as Gary and Laurel had said it would. Owen had a Swiss Army knife, a small can of WD-40, and a roll of duct tape in his pocket. With those tools and a credit card, he quickly figured out how to exit the room.