Had she explained her beginner’s luck, he would really have been bent out of shape. The first tank had too much elevation for the first 2.6 seconds, so she let him shoot, then during the 3.2 seconds it took to reload, she wasted him. The secret of the the game, according to the kids who played it, was to get to the top of the hill first. Poquita, had she been interested in the game for more than 10 minutes, would have shown them all that getting to the top of the hill first against Poquita didn’t work.
That getting stale, Poquita took a roll of coins and put them in what Will would have called a 5 x 10 array. Then she played it two ways. You could ask for a date, and she would turn over a coin with that date. Or you could pick a coin, and she would tell you the date and you could turn it over and see that she was right. “Let’s make it interesting,” she said, pushing the already used coins to the side, and rearranging the others in a new array. Then she pointed at the coins and announced the dates of a row. The owner turned them, and got a little shaky.
She picked up a phone book from the desk. “Pick a page.”
“876”
She looked at the page for two minutes and handed him the book. “Tell me a name or a number and I will tell you the other.”
He tried it a few times, but she got them all.
“Give me the last two numbers of a listing on that page.”
“21.”
“Got two of those. 321 or 721?”
“321.”
She told him the name of the listing backwards.
When they left the arcade, the owner knew there was a trick to it, but he couldn’t see what it was.
Poquita got on the net, and went to an on line seller she had bought coins from before. “Is Ken going to square this coin thing with the board?”
“Sure. They know about these little things, they don’t care.” “Well, I found this little thing uncirculated from a reputable seller. The only thing about this little thing is that it costs eighteen thousand dollars.”
“Does the book support that price?”
“I believe it’s reasonably unreasonable. The book can’t really tell you about a coin that is one of maybe one of five in the world. I found a good deal on one out by Rigel, but the shipping was expensive.”
“Plus, the delivery time was a couple of million years longer than we want to wait.”
“There was that, too. We can do registered mail, and it is insurable. Or I can get it taken out there with a loach. Two thousand more for that.”
“Are they having her birthday party at their house?”
“You got it.”
“Can the chopper land on their back lawn?”
“Got a pasture there, Will, not a lawn. And the pilot is ex Coast Guard.”
“Oh, those guys, I don’t know. Probably have a hard time putting it down on an offshore supply vessel in a 20 foot sea. We maybe should get a real pilot.”
“This was all I could come up with.”
“Will they do it on the day, co-ordinate with Ken?” “That’s all planned. Just need your approval.” “Well, it’s only twenty thousand dollars. Go ahead.” * * *
The Scandinavian tour done, they headed back to Italy. Ken called when they were in the air.
“The birthday party went great. I had her out on the patio with a cocktail and the helicopter orbited. Then it came down over the back lawn, and came in low, so it looked like he was going to hit the house. He set down near us, and then came out with the coin. She was really happy, Will.”
“Well, we did something nice.”
“I also want to talk about something else. The quail were great for business. They’re getting so much email most of them can’t type fast enough to answer it, and people are saying how nice we are to help them get started. The board believes that we can sell more juniors than adults, even. So we’re thinking, are there a lot of little cuties in Italy who want to be models?”
“We even have small fishes in the harbor.”
“Would you be willing to run a program like that?”
“Sure.”
“We would bring in a covey, and put them in the catalog. We would select our favorite quail for a second time around. You and Marcie would train them, and a few photographers. We have a videographer, Sassie, who would preserve your lessons.”
“Sassie?”
“Sarsaparilla Jaruzelski. She’s Polish, so of course she grew up in Lithuania and worked as a cameraman for a Spanish television station in Lebanon.”
“Oh, I would have guessed that.”
“Sure you would. Now this is the idea. We are trying out models and photographers. Good work comes back, we put them on long term contracts. You, Marcie and our coveys will produce more work than we can use, but we’ll suffer with that. You won the steaks and chops argument at the board meeting, so that’s a done deal. We photograph the whole girl and we don’t crop a hair off her head. Mrs. Lane took your respect for women line and put down some real heavy anchors, so that took care of that. She wants to know if you will liberally interpret the contract.”
“I will, and I think that goes for Marcie, too, but.”
“I’m most concerned about you.”
“You shouldn’t be careless about Marcie. I had no problem finding her, but that doesn’t mean I can find another.” “I’m not careless about Marcie. You know what she is costing us. She’s a great model and a wonderful publicity hound. She is the model of the century. But time will pass, and I am running a ship that needs to be working in the next century.”
“Got it. We’ll do what you need. Speak with Marcie yourself.”
* * *
The board worked it out, with lots of calls to Poquita. Marcie’s attitude was basically ‘whatever Will wants to do, yes, that’s fine. I think it will be fun.’
Poquita looked for a new covey on the net. She showed thousands of pictures to Will, who chose a few to see. One of the worst portfolios came from Jennie in Honduras, who thought she could get a ride on a freighter to Solano. She sent two black and white photographs. Will said if she got to Solano, Aurora would buy her a bus ticket to Scanzano and make sure she got home safely. When she came to Scanzano, Marcie took her under her wing. Jennie arrived barefoot, broke and dressed in rags. Marcie very quickly took care of all that. Jennie was a very pretty girl with waist length black hair, who stood an awesome 5-2, never to be a fashion model. She helped around the house and worked with the garden crew.
Sassie blew in. She was a tall thin redhead who spoke in the language of your choice, but very rapidly. She was here to work, so what were they filming?
Marcie gave her a hard look. “Honey, you’re going to take orders, is what it’s about. I have one rookie model here, very promising. If Will wants us to film, we do it.”
Hurricane Marcie hits Tropical Storm Sassie.
“Marcie, if you want to work one on one with Jennie, we might make a good modeling lesson. We don’t need pix, so we might just be warming up Jennie and Sassie.”
“Let’s do it. I’ll get Jennie.”
Will and Sassie got their equipment. “What did I do wrong, Will?”
“Nothing much. She’s asserting herself. I’m the lion in this pride, Chrissie is the princess, Marcie is Chief Lioness, and everyone else is the cubs. Marcie is being a little rude, but if she says we’re taking the gazelle on the left, you cut that gazelle on the right and she comes in on the left and nails it. This is just how lions do things.”
“I’m with the program.”
“It won’t be hard to play. All you have to do is to remember who is in charge, and respect them a little, and nobody is going to hiss at you.”
Marcie had Jennie in jeans and a tee, with, surprise of all surprises, Phillipa boots. Marcie was in a white patent leather pantsuit and boots with a black scarf in silk with orchids on it. Reasonably priced at less than a Lincoln town car.
Sassie filmed as Marcie worked Jennie hard. “Pose here. Point your toes. Will will tell you. Turn to the side. Put your f
oot back, point your toe again.” Will tried to explain what he was doing. “Turn a little left so you get in the light better. Now we do the halo effect, so get your head straight between me and the sun. Bend your knees, I can’t get that. Go change.” “Sassie, watch the best model in the biz.” Marcie strutted about, twirled, caught the sun, bent to pick up nothing from the ground, smiled at the camera, gave it a merciless femme fatale look, messed with her boot, shook her hair, fussed with her belt, adjusted the fit on her wonderful bosom, and fiddled with her hair. Will shot 100 pix in a few minutes. Jennie came out and he shot her for a few minutes, and saw that she was wearing down. “Sassie, see how she looks a little worn down? She is new, and we have worked her hard. Modeling is stressful. For Marcie, not very. She can do a four hour shoot with a different outfit every few minutes. If I asked Jennie to do that, she would die in front of the camera. This is hard work. Making it look easy is the hardest part.” They went to the close of the chapter, with Marcie and Chrissie sitting by Will, and Jennie on his lap. “You did real good, Jennie.” “I could have done more.”
“You would have tried. When you get run down, you don’t look as good. I want you brisk and cute, not looking like you just stayed up too late at the disco and snorted a bunch of coke. Drugs are the wrecking yard of models, honey. You can make a lot of money on your looks and your ability to pose, if you ever have that. You saw Marcie do what almost nobody can do. That’s where you need to be. That is what you are here to learn.
Chapter 19 Home in Italy
Musical Theme; Abandoned Garden by Michael Franks Will collected Sassie, Glenn, Jennie, Poquita, Karl, Marcie, Chrissie, Father James and May and took them to dinner. They chose their own table in a local restaurant. Will looked at May. “Don’t you try to be inconspicuous, May. You are just as good as anyone here, including me. Did you see our shoot, what did you think?” “I didn’t see. I was cleaning.” “You work for me, not some oppressor.” “I was working, Will.” Poquita said “Will, some day you will retire. She will need to have another job, and she will need to act like maids do. Same as me. I know my job is only good for a few more years, and you won’t need a secretary.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Poquita, you’re not leaving when I retire, unless you want to.” Will didn’t mention that if he and Chrissie predeceased Poquita, she would receive a little bit of Aurora and Phillipa stock. Not a lot of course. Sassie said, “I was not ready for what I saw in the photo shoots. Jennie was good, and I saw how you directed her. But Marcie! I know now why she is the world’s top model. She does two poses in two seconds and you shoot them both.” “She knows I am fast. We have worked together before.” “She’s awesome.” “Thanks, Sassie. Something we want to get on video is just what you just said so well. We want you to make the movies that show girls how to do this. When you have Wild Bill shooting, you move very fast. If it’s someone ordinary, then a little slower. Some photographers want to direct every shot, and some direct when you’re not making good images. Some direct when they should shut up and let the model give them the images.
Models need to understand that even if he’s wrong, you have to let him run the show. He sees what you don’t.” “Get your video cam out.” Sassie fiddled around. “While you fumble with your equipment, let me tell you a Will story.” “Not at dinner, Marcie.” “Sassie, Will and I were in a car in Chicago. We were held up because there was someone on a roof threatening to jump. He opened the car door, pulled a camera out from his shirt, and got a pic of her going over the side.
17 stories. Poquita, what did he get for that pic?” “Nineteen thousand four hundred eighty five dollars and forty six cents. From UPI” “Girl, you are a photographer, and you take pictures like that, which are in Will’s nightmares, or you are not a photographer, and you carry your camera so that you can’t pull it out as fast as Doc Holliday. Show her your piece, Will.” Will pulled the .357 and put it away. “Do you have a license for that?” Will showed her his Carabiniere ID. “Who are you guys actually?” “Just a photographer, his wife, a model, some friends.” Dinner came, and they started in on their salad. Marcie must have been hungry, because she ate a whole leaf of lettuce. Sassie gave Will a hard look. “Will, I’m not going to ask questions you are not going to answer.” “That will save time.” “But this thing about being ready to film.” “Go, Marcie.” Marcie and Will jumped out of the booth. Marcie did a lighting series of poses, and Will took about 50 shots in not even a minute. They sat down and went to dinner, Marcie even eating a whole slice of tomato. “Sassie, you can miss a lot of good stuff fast.” “You want to put me down. Well, I don’t need you.” She stood up. “We’re teaching you, but if you don’t want to learn, Marcie will put you on one of her birdies.” “You’re firing me?” “No. I’m asking you to cowgirl up.” He started in on a slice of pizza. Father James said, “He is trying to tell you that a videographer needs to be ready to shoot whatever happens, any time. Modern history belongs to you.
If you miss it, it’s lost forever. They did that to make a point, not to put you down.” Sassie held up her hand. “I’ve got it. You told Marcie somehow, and she knew what you wanted to do.” “I didn’t tell her anything. She knew what I was going to do. I knew what she was going to do. That’s going to be something for you and I to work out as well. You’ll need to know where to be. Mostly on my six, but probably not quite.” “Your six?” “Where you are facing is your 12 o’clock. You imagine a clock dial on the ground. So my nine is to my left, my three is to my right. That’s the danger zone. When quail run around playing, I may need to turn to get the Kodak moment. I won’t have time to push you out of the way, so you have to not be in the way.” “You’re going to push me out of the way to get a shot?” “When we’re shooting, it’s real intense. We’re not going to change because you are here. You are here to document what we really do, not some phony crap.” The waitress came and took dinner orders. She also brought bread and butter. Jennie ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, a pasta salad. Will shook his head. “Ma’am, would you add a lobster to her order?” “Certainly. Does anyone want another drink before dinner?” Father James touched his wine glass, and she nodded. Several others wanted another. Jennie wanted a drink, but a perusal of her passport and work permit indicated that it would not be possible. “What would you drink anyway, if you could?” “The best thing there is, Coke and Bacardi.” “Ma’am she will have a large Coke. I’d like to add about 3 ounces of
Bacardi 151, but she is underage.” The waitress was back soon with the drink order. She exchanged a smile with Jennie when Jennie tasted her Coke. It’s one of those things, that a bartender can think he heard ‘Rum and Coke’ when he was supposed to pour a Coke, is all. Mistakes happen. The main course came, with lots of artichokes. Chrissie said, “We don’t have any artichokes, Will?” “We do, but they are old. We have some ground that Carlos thinks is good for them. So we will have him rip an acre with his cat, and we divide our artichokes. We might buy some new ones, too. We will sell some, probably right here, and give a lot away.” Will’s phone rang. “Will. Eating dinner with some friends. Oh, I forgot that. Well it’s no surprise, but nice to know for sure. Great, Steve. The fishes and the tanks are mine, but you can keep them there. Quint and I will eventually ask to sell them or something. If the feeding directions aren’t there, Poquita knows what they are. OK, thanks for calling. Don’t be late to his court.” “Well, guys, it’s a done deal. Steve has been elected DA, not to surprise anyone too much.” Chrissie said, “Anyone running against him would be running against you.
Nobody who had any sense would run. Just a few fools who probably got one percent of the vote each.” “That’s about what happened. Poquita, where is Quint?” “Oregon. Taking care of unfinished fish business. Now that you’re telling me this job is long term, we might sell out in Oregon. Depends on work permits and all, I guess.” “I know I can get you a permanent visa. I don’t know about legal restrictions, if he can start an aquaria business here, but I think he can.�
�� Poquita said “Well, Jennie got a work permit.” “Poquita, come out front with me. I have something to show you. We’ll be right back.” They went out the front door to the sidewalk. “Poquita, she worked her way over here on a freighter. She didn’t even have shoes when she got here. What do you think she did to get a work permit and a passport?” “Oh.” “Don’t ask her what the law is. She doesn’t know. I’ll get a lawyer to work this crap out. I don’t know the rules either. You know that I got you a visa and a work permit. You don’t know how, do you?” “No. I suppose, though, you didn’t fill out an application and stand in line.” “I didn’t do that. So you see, I don’t know the rules either. I ask for things, and I get them, and nobody tells me how it works, and I don’t care or want to know, either. We’ll hire a lawyer and do the thing the usual way, and Quint can file an application, get a corporation formed and all that. If there is a problem I will ask someone who doesn’t exist to help me out.” They went back inside. Chrissie moved in on the silence. “We should have a covey here in about a week. Jennie will be able to clue them in a little bit. May told me the brick barn back there has a bathroom in it, and she thinks we can make it into a kind of sorority house for the girls, and that will knock out some hotel bills and travel time.” “That’s great. Thank you, May, for thinking that out for us. Are we going to need help to get some cots or beds or something in there and clean it up?” “My brother can help. We can get bunk beds from a place in the city. They are not nice, they came from a prison. But we can put new mattresses on them. We can pressure wash them before we bring them in. Poquita only needs your permission to buy this all.” “If you and Poquita think you have the best choice, then you can do it. See if it’s practical to put curtains around them so the girls can have privacy.” “I think it will be. My brother is a welder, so he can put some curtain rods on very easily. My mother will tell you what it would cost to make the curtains.” “Do you girls know how many of these would fit in there?” “12” “So 24 beds, then?” “Right.” “Buy 12 then.” They went back to eating. Jennie liked the lobster. Will said, “Marcie, can you get Jennie going on weight lifting? I think she would look a lot better a little toned up.” “Sure.” Marcie worked out with weights no bigger than the sinkers you would use fishing the deep reefs in the ocean. You could tell pretty easily what was whose in the weight room. Chrome plated itty bitty dumbbells, that would be Marcie. The neatly arranged small dumbbells, that would be Chrissie.
In Love and Law Page 21
