RJ Book 10 Taking Care of Business

by Earl Nelson

  It didn’t take long to set up. I was still told not to stress it for several days as it had to cure. Since the only thing I had to do for the next several days was to revise for my exams it would be no problem.

  Boy was I wrong.

  I did not realize the whole event was on live TV. I just thought I was considered a hero before.

  The first real inkling I had when a Candy Striper started asking me questions. I hadn’t paid her any notice when she came into the room.

  When she opened her mouth I realized she was not a fourteen-year-old girl but a thirty-something woman.

  I pushed my call button. The nurse who answered it immediately saw the problem and had the disguised reporter escorted from the premises.

  After this incident, the hospital administrator came to see me. He asked if I would do a press conference as there were a multitude of reporters trying to get in. The Candy Striper had got the furthest but there had been several other attempts.

  I was considering it when my parents showed up. They had flown all night to get here. Once Mum had checked me out to see if the doctors had missed anything we talked about the newspeople.

  We finally all agreed that I would make a statement, answer a few questions, and claim I was tired. That wouldn’t be a falsehood. I was tired from the events of the day already, short as it had been.

  The press conference was set up in the hospital dining room. It was the only room that was large enough, and it was full.

  A stage with a low pódium and a microphone was set up. When I was wheeled in a side door pandemonium let loose. Questions were shouted left and right.

  I had been this route before so let them keep at it for a while. When they showed signs of settling down I read my statement which was a bald recount of the facts.

  I also let them know, yes I was scared, yes I knew that I might die but the children's lives were important. No, I wasn’t a hero for jumping into the river, anyone would have done that.

  Of course, they wouldn’t report it that way but I had to try. I then opened it up for questions. I answered five inane ones then pled tiredness, which was true. I don’t know where my energy had gone.

  I was wheeled back to my room where I collapsed back into bed and promptly fell asleep.

  When I woke Dad was sitting there, apparently he, Mum, and Grand Mum were taking turns. He told me congratulations, I had made the Fox Movietone news and was showing in theaters worldwide.

  Just what I needed. It was early evening and I had unexpected visitors. The Royal family had come to see me.

  Charles and Ann wanted to sign my cast. I even got an ER. Philip went the whole hog, titles and all. That broke the ice for the next couple of days, everyone wanted to sign it.

  The doctor had told me that it would take six to twelve weeks for both my shoulder and arm to heal. Then I would need some therapy to build the muscle tone back up. I was given a set of exercises that I had to perform.

  I was only in the hospital for another day and was discharged.

  Chapter 24

  The doctor had told me that I would heal in about three to four months. That I was not to try to use my arm to lift anything for at least a month.

  After that my body would tell me what was too much. That held for both arm and shoulder.

  The whole incident had thrown my plan to spend a couple of days revising for my exams. I now had to face them without doing any review.

  I passed all of them, I wouldn’t be graduating summa cum laude, but I passed everything. Since I wasn’t even certain that I would end up with a degree it didn’t matter.

  I did have a Message hand-delivered from the Palace. I say Message because it was more than a letter. The envelope had the wax Royal stamp and gold ribbons.

  I used a letter opener to cause as little damage as possible to this formal missive. I bet I would be keeping this for a long time.

  It was an invitation to present myself at the Palace for investiture as a Baron of the Realm. If I wanted to accept this honor please reply with my new name.

  I asked the equerry who had delivered the envelop if I had to answer right then. He told me that I had to have an answer by Saturday as that was when I would be at the Palace.

  It was traditional to use a place name associated with your life. I couldn’t see Baron Bellefontaine, Baron California, Baron Ohio, Baron Greys, or Baron Essex for example. Neither Baron Jackson House nor Baron Meadows worked.

  It left me in a quandary for several hours until I had an idea. I call Chief Redfoot in the US. He told me it wouldn’t be a problem, just the reverse.

  So that is how I became Baron Blackhoof.

  Lord Richard Jackson, Baron Blackhoof or better yet, Colonel Lord Jackson, KG, OBE, LOH. No ego here!

  The equerry had told me the Baronage was a ‘life peer’, not inheritable. It was for my rescue of those children.

  I think I was getting numb to all the honors I had earned. They just weren’t that big of a deal anymore. I still put my pants on, one leg at a time.

  There was one sour note in all the proceedings. Pinewood studio executives made an appointment to come to The Meadows. It seems the delay caused by my injured arm and shoulder was too long. They had arranged financing which would run out.

  Rather than take a huge loss on the two movie package they were canceling them now. They would be made someday but not in the near future.

  This irritated me as it had messed up my school schedule but I understood their position so we parted on good terms.

  I did ask if Diana Riggs was being taken care of as she had turned down a TV show for the movies. It turned out the show was delayed getting into production so she was back in. It was called the Revengers or something like that.

  While I attended classes or rammed around The Meadows bored out of my mind Dad got back to me on my proposed park outside of the Roman ruins.

  The theme park people would be delighted to work with us. Their proposal went way beyond what I had envisioned but it sounded like fun.

  I had thought of reproductions of the various buildings with walkways between. They also added in guides in Roman gear, shops with food, and souvenirs. There would be staged events like chariot races and gladiator fights.

  In other words, like a Disneyland in ancient Rome. It sounded like fun to me. It was lucky the estate next to ours was for sale. Dad had already set it in motion to buy the two thousand acres.

  Everything would be built away from The Meadows towards the new property.

  I about had a fit when I learned there would be gladiator fights between Julis Ceasar and Sparticus. Then there would be the Cleopatra tunnel of love with Nile barges. To top it all there would be flume rides down a Roman Aqueduct ending in a Roman bath.

  After some serious long-distance phone calls, it was agreed that a duplicate of the ruins would be a precise copy with paths. There would be costumed docents to answer questions. There would be no charge for children up to the university level. There would be a nominal fee for adults.

  The park portion would be separate and built on the newly purchased grounds. They would rent these from Mum who owned The Meadows. They would be free to commercialize it as they wanted.

  They had plans for several rides but none that would require an e-ticket, at least yet.

  The stores on the ruins side would only sell minor souvenirs and food. The theme park would go full-blown commercial.

  Even with this, they didn’t see it as an enormous moneymaker. Its main benefit would enable them to keep their design and construction crew together for some big Project they were considering for somewhere in the southern United States.

  My portion of the ruins would be a tax write off. It made me feel good to be able to further the education of British children in their heritage.

  Maybe this was what my future would be like. I still liked the idea of help getting mankind into space but didn’t know how to go about it. I had missed a ch
ance offered by President Eisenhower to meet with Verner Von Braun.

  As far as I knew NASA had all efforts in space locked down. It would be nice if commercial ventures could try their hand at it.

  All of this was going on while I was still in some pain from my arm and shoulder. It was hard to concéntrate when in pain but I had managed through my exams.

  Worse than the exams were the phone calls with the theme park crew. All the sweetness and light while wishing on a star were put aside when they got down to business. The KGB was easier to deal with, at least I could kill them if things got out of hand.

  While all this was going on I had an airplane being converted to a flying office and hotel.

  In the meantime, I had a trip to the Palace to formally become a Baron. I was informed that I needed to visit the London Tailor Ede & Ravenscroft. They had been in business since 1689 and were the principal supplier of the robes worn.

  The robe is a full-length garment of scarlet wool with a collar of white miniver fur. It is closed at the front with black silk satin ribbon ties. The robe is cut long as to have a train but it is usually hooked up inside the garment.

  On the right-hand side of the robe are two Miniver bar edged with gold oak-leaf lace. This is the symbol of a Baron. A viscount like Mum would have 2 and a half bars, an earl three, and a Duke four.

  I was gathering quite a wardrobe of fancy dress. The Ede & Ravenscroft would store them for me when I was not appearing officially at the Palace or the House of Lords. It made me wonder which outfit would take precedence, Order of the Garter, or Baron? I guess it would depend on the function.

  One thing I knew is my little sister would be honked off. She was addressed in writing as The Honorable, but not verbally. Either Mum would have to get a promotion for Mary to become a Lady or she would have to earn it on her own. I wouldn’t bet against it.

  One thing that was becoming more obvious all the time was the shift the family was undergoing. We were now emphasizing our British heritage. I hoped I would never be forced to choose between the two.

  My fan mail was reviewed for the attitude of the fans. A summary was then generated by their overall attitude. First of all, they still loved me, many wanted more movies, some more songs (some fans are insane).

  None of them appeared to have a problem with my dual nationality and thought my being a Baron was a neat thing. Of course, these were my fans, I wondered what the United States government thought.

  After thinking about it for a while I decided to ask. Now I could dial the President directly but thought that would be a little presumptive. I could call Ike but that would still be a little too close to the seat of power.

  In the end, I called another ex-president. Herbert Hoover. The main reason I picked him was I knew where he lived and had their phone number.

  I was lucky as he was in and took my call. We spent a little time with him wanting to know all about the Roman Ruins. He liked the idea of a duplicate model for the public but was doubtful about the Theme Park.

  He congratulated me on the rescue and being raised to the British Peerage. This gave me the perfect opportunity to share my concerns. He laughed and told me that the Kennedy’s would have no problem as old Joe Kennedy would have given his eyeteeth to be in my position.

  The official US position would be to not recognize my honors. Since they wouldn’t recognize them they could take no action based on them.

  Chapter 25

  My parents were still in England so they attended the brief ceremony at Buckingham Palace. We arrived separately so I didn’t see Mum until we were presented to the Queen.

  She wore her robes for the occasion. I must say she looked more natural in them than I did. Something was different about her robes but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  Then it hit me, she had three solid bars on her robe, not the two and a half of a Viscountess. She had the insignia of an Earl or a Countess as she was a female.

  We both advanced to the Queen who read the reason for the peerages. Mine was for extreme heroism, saving lives at the risk of my own.

  I had been ordered to wear my Coldstream Colonels uniform. I was to receive a second Meritorious Service Medal. Dad pinned it on me.

  Then I was just about bowled over as the Queen announced that I would be inducted into the Royal Victorian Order at the level of Knight Commander. This now makes me Colonel Lord Jackson, KG, OBE, KCVO, LOH.

  I had to wonder why this was happening. As soon as I could I would ask, first my parents, then Mr. Norman, if they didn’t know I would go to the Queen.

  Mum's new rank was for unspecified acts of bravery during World War II in North Africa. I had to find out what she had been up to!

  Well if nothing else Mary was now Lady Mary. The boys were now Honorables. We had tea and crumpets after the ceremony. How British!

  Elizbeth told me she had seen many moments of heroism and had read of many acts of valor. My cold bloodily jumping into that raging stream was one of the more memorable. Most heroes did what they had to do in the heat of the moment.

  I tried to ask what Mum had done but the conversation kept being rerouted. Dad seemed as puzzled as I was. I would like to hear the conversation that would occur later.

  I just knew it had to involve dead bodies and probably sex. Eww! My Mum would never have sex. Yeah, yeah I know, I wasn’t found under a cabbage.

  We all posed for the obligatory pictures. I was reminded that I couldn’t be seated until I was twenty-one. From what I knew about the bunch of old fogies in the House of Lords, it would be much older if ever.

  A man from the tailors was waiting for us as we left the Queen, he took our robes so they wouldn’t get messed up. With care legend had it, one set of robes had lasted a family for over three hundred years.

  I was told this by the tailor, I have no idea if it was true. That would make them older than the United States. Would the fabric even hold up, I think it would rot.

  I quizzed him on this, the main body of the robe had been replaced twice, it had been restitched four times as the thread had rotted, and the fur four times.

  Now I got it, it was like my camping hatchet. It had been my dad’s, dad. The handle had been replaced three times and the head twice but the hatchet was over eighty years old.

  The way my family lived I had better budget a new set of robes for next year.

  The tailor asked me if they should go ahead with my KCVO robes since they had my measurements. I gave my permission.

  Of course, the press was waiting in the Palace press room. My mother the ratfink removed her robes before going into the room so her new title was not the subject of questions. Mine was.

  The first question to me was I going to surrender my US citizenship. I gave a simple, “No,” in reply.

  Then it was are you going to join the smart set of young title holders. I probably shouldn’t have said that the smart set of young title holders was an oxímoron.

  One of the reporters, a younger one asked me what an oxímoron was. I was on a roll, I told him to look in a mirror.

  The majority of reporters broke up at that. He would never live this one down.

  About that time my Dad took me by the arm and escorted me off the stage while telling the reporters the interview was over. I don’t know why he did that, I was having fun and just warming up.

  I only whined a little about the fun I was missing. Dad wasn’t amused, he used a saying about nobody liking a smart ass.

  Quickly changing the subject I asked why was I getting all these honors. I understood the medal, that was within the army regulations. Why the KCVO?

  “Rick, the royal family is in the publicity business. They represent the British people and must look good at all times. Right now you are viewed very favorably worldwide, so the Queen wants you to be identified with the royals. Your good standing will reflect on them as a whole.”

  “That is the royal view, the British government wants to bind
you to England because of your money. Going forward your tax bill will be enormous. They would rather you be an English ratepayer than American.”

  “Then back to the Queen, she views us as part of her extended family and wants to do well by us.”

  “Would it have anything to do with Mum and North Africa?”

  “It may, but she won’t talk about it. I bet it has a lot to do with dead bodies.”

  At least Dad left out the sex part.

  We went to my suite at the Plaza. There we all changed into casual clothing. After ordering in lunch, we went down to the lobby where our limo was supposed to be at the curb. It was.

  There also was a huge mob of well-wishers, reporters, and Cambridge pie throwers. They missed me and Dad. Mum took one square in the face.

  She was not amused. Stepping forward she headbutted her assailant. Blood spurted from his nose in huge gout. She then kneed him in a most delicate place.

  She then glared at the crowd and said, “Next!”

  As the police grabbed the guy rolling on the ground the rest melted away. An alert doorman presented her with a towel.

  We entered our limo and left London. That was the last of the pie assaults. Every paper in the country agreed that it was beyond the pale to account Countess Jackson. Besides being beyond the pale it was utterly stupid as the pie thrower found out.

  Later I found that he was sent down from Cambridge for his actions.

  Mum fumed a bit on the ride back to Oxford. Her fuming included Composition C and the Cambridge clock tower. Dad and I tried to convince her it was an overreaction.

  She agreed and moved on to fires in their libraries, she was confident the fire brigades could save some of the books. Did I ever mention my Mum was the bloodthirsty sort?

  She finally settled down. She did tell us the pie tasted good and that we should find out who baked them. I had already found out and shared the name.