The Lost Ballet

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by Richard Dorrance


  Chapter 29 – An Invitation to Lunch

  Gwen was wrong about getting drunk at lunch time. In fact, everyone but her got drunk at lunch time, just a week later out at Fort Sumter. The day after Gwen paraded around the circle of chairs in her yellow pumps, Nev paid another visit to The Hall. He came just after lunch, not bothering to knock at the rear doors, but walked down the center aisle and stood at the center of the stage. He was not heeled, and Gwen sensed this. In turn, Nev sensed that she was heeled. He loved that about this woman.

  Immediately Nev noticed the new person working on the stage. The Whosey had set up the synthesizer he had brought with him, and was connecting it to the team’s computer. He had Pater loading his software, and had Peter connecting everything to the theater’s sound system. There were wires sprouting up everywhere, and the Ps were having fun. Nev looked at Gwen and said, “Who’s the new guy?”

  “He’s our orchestra.”

  “What do you mean, orchestra?”

  “He’s going to play the music. For the ballet. All the music. The Stravinsky music.”

  Nev didn’t understand. He didn’t know about synthesizers. He held out his hands.

  “Nev, why should I tell you anything?”

  “Because I came here in peace. Mr. Stirg wants to invite you to lunch at a special place. Wants to talk to you about what you’re doing here. This ballet. Isn’t that a nice thing? Lunch invitation. In return, you tell me about this one man orchestra.”

  “Invite who to lunch? Just me? Or me and Roger? Or who?”

  “All of you. Your whole group. He wants to see if we can come to terms on this thing and avoid more conflict. He wants to hear your side of the story, and he wants you to hear his side.”

  Roger walked over to the front of the stage, said, “What’s up, Nev?”

  Gwen said, “Stirg has invited us to lunch. All of us. Wants to talk about our production. Have a powwow. That is so touching. So unlike Mr. Stirg, isn’t it?”

  Roger said, "Maybe he wants to sponsor it. Donate some money to the cause. We can always use more money, can’t we?”

  “Is that is? Does Mr. Stirg want to sponsor our production? Get his name listed in the program as a major contributor? Maybe, Gold Level, one million dollars and above.”

  “Not exactly. He just wants to have lunch. Talk a little.”

  “Ok, we’ll bite. Where and when?”

  “Out at Fort Sumter. Week from today. 1pm. He thought we should meet in a history place. A place with lots of artifacts around. American artifacts. Things that are important to Americans. Important to you. Just like there are things that are important to Russians. Things like desks from the Hermitage, and music written by Russians. He thought that might be a good place to talk about what you’re doing here.”

  “You got the feds to agree to a private lunch in the middle of a national park?”

  “Money talks, even to them.”

  Gwen looked at Roger, who shrugged. He’d never heard of a private party out at Sumter. That would be a new one. “Ok, one week from today. Where?”

  “We’ll have a boat at the marina at 12:30. Have you back by 3:00.”

  Gwen said, “You gonna be heeled, Nev?”

  “What do you think?”

 

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