by E A Comiskey
* * *
Richard imagined calling Stanley a witch and chuckled. Little witch. Haha. Have to get him some black and green striped pantyhose and fancy red shoes.
Darn peacock would probably enjoy it.
Maybe someone would drop a house on him.
The thought stirred a murky mixture of emotions in Richard. It seemed prudent, at that moment, to leave them unexamined and focus on the issue at hand.
* * *
The Umbra estate, shielded by powerful sorcery, is all but impossible to locate. Rumored to be a great gothic structure surrounded by labyrinths and moats, it has been the subject of centuries of wild speculation. Umbra himself seems to move in and out of the protected space without hindrance as the intrepid detective will have no difficulty finding that enigmatic name listed among the most powerful influences on the most powerful nations in the world, from the Great British Empire to China.
A close inspection of financial records will show that Umbra, or some corporation attributed to him, has made donations in the millions of dollars to political campaigns, war efforts, and business ventures. Those backed by him have never failed to thrive as long as the partnership continued.
Occasionally, there is a rift and the tide of world politics will shift. No greater example of this exists than the famous instance when King George III bragged to the world in the summer of 1780 that his empire was nigh on to undefeatable due to his having an “Italian sorcerer on a leash.” Throughout the months that followed, a powerful sense of fighting pride previously unseen in the history of modern man swept through the back country of the so-called “new world” and the raggedy little street-urchin of a nation, The United States, with few allies, drove back her enemies and placed herself solidly upon the world stage.
Not surprisingly, whispers of an alliance between General Washington and a certain Italian diplomat with bottomless pockets abounded as he ascended to the presidency. In fact, some of those closest to him spoke of him having nearly God-like powers.
* * *
“Well, I’ll be a suck-egg mule,” Richard mumbled to the empty living room just as the rattling of the rising garage door reached his ears.
He slammed the book shut, sending a little puff of dust into Maddie’s flawlessly sterile, filtered air.
Burke stalked into and through the house carrying an armful of bags. Moments later, a bedroom door banged shut with more force than was strictly necessary.
Stanley appeared a minute later. His keen eye landed immediately on the book. “Reading about the days of your childhood?” he asked.
“More like the history of your middle age, ya old coot,” Richard retorted. “Where’d ya ditch my kid?”
Stanley settled into one of the padded chairs in the living room and crossed his legs. “The ladies pulled in right ahead of me. Madeline is making a pot of tea. She really is a gracious hostess.”
Richard grunted. “Said she was crazy. Never said I didn’t teach her manners. Did you know Umbra helped George Washington win the Revolution?”
“Did you know David Bowie was driven mad by his refusal to play tricks with Umbra?” Stanley asked in return.
“Who’s David Bowie? Related to Jim?”
Stanley roared with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Maddie asked as she entered the room carrying a little silver tray bearing four cups and a teapot arranged around a dent in the center. Barbara’s tray. A wedding present that Richard so clearly remembered opening, he could still remember the sound of the paper tearing.
They’d sat on the couch side by side, her in a tiny nightie that left him practically drooling and utterly at her mercy, him in nothing but a pair of striped pajama pants. On the floor to his left, picture frames and glass bowls, Tupperware containers, flatware, embroidered napkins, and kitchen gadgets of various sizes and usefulness formed a haphazard mountain. The remaining wrapped gifts, no longer a tower but still a formidable pile, covered the coffee table in front of them. How had he survived his years of bachelorhood without all this stuff? Did people really require a matched set of ten pots and pans, or three different size colanders?
“Your turn to pick,” she told him.
“Do the big one, then,” he said, mostly to clear off space on the table.
“Oh, yes! I’ve been saving that one. It came from my rich Aunt Sylvie.”
“You have a rich aunt?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
He thought about that. It was true, there was rumored to be a wealthy relative on his mother’s side of the family, but he suspected she was more legend than fact. Certainly, no wedding gifts had come from that quarter.
Barbara knelt in front of him and leaned forward to rip the paper off the box. Desire smacked into him like a tidal wave of lava, so powerful it made him dizzy. It took him a moment to tear his eyes away from the teeny, tiny ruffled bloomers covering her round little backside and focus on the fact that she’d said something.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“For real!” she exclaimed. “Just look!” And, laughing, with her dark hair still tangled from their loving, and wearing that silly little scrap of fabric, she lifted a silver tea set from the box and set it out before them. Then, lifting the tray in her strong, capable hands, she asked in an absurd accent that he assumed was intended to sound British, “Like a spot o’ tea, Gov’nr?”
Reason left. A man could only take so much. Grabbing her by her round hips, he dragged her down onto the sofa. She let the tray and its contents fall in a clatter of metal and met his passion with her own fiery desire.
Later, they laughed over the dent in the tray and speculated if it had happened when she dropped it or when they rolled off the couch and landed on it.
Just a few short years later, she was gone. Stolen away from him and their child by a monster who, in turn, had been slain by their granddaughter.
Richard blinked back the memory and forced himself to focus on the moment. In this house, the past jumped out at him from behind every corner as surely as the monsters they hunted did in a shadowy forest. He’d rather face the monsters.
Burke needed to go on this date and wrap up whatever this business with Umbra and his minions was so they could pack up the Cadillac, hit the open road, and fix their eyes on the adventure ahead rather than the pain of the past.
He rubbed his eyes and accepted a cup from Maddie. “Ain’t nothin’ funny. Stanley’s just acting like an idiot.”
“Dad!” She passed a cup to Stanley. “I noticed last night, you prefer a dollop of cream, so I got some of the good stuff from Whole Foods while we were in town.”
“Madeline, the beauty of your thoughtfulness exceeds that of your countenance and that is, indeed, an astonishment,” Stanley said.
Richard resisted the urge to blow a raspberry at the puffed-up horse’s patootie and silently congratulated himself on growing as a person.
Chapter Nine
Albert
Albert stood in front of a vending machine, trying to figure out if peanut butter crackers or potato chips had a greater overall negative impact on the environment. It was important to make wise choices. Maybe not as important as it was before a whole new planet became available for settlement, but still—one must do what one could.
It was hard to concentrate. He had moved on from obsessing about his status at Coleum to obsessing about Burke Martin. When the old lady who’d nearly killed him invited him over for an early Thanksgiving dinner, he’d been ready to refuse. Then she mentioned her daughter would be there—her “quite lovely” and “all-too-single” daughter.
He’d been intrigued. The daughter had to be on the sunset side of life, judging by the old lady’s age. In his experience, women of a certain age weren’t terribly choosy about their sexual partners and, if he was being entirely honest with himself, he was long overdue for a sexual partner.
Apparently, the girl was also in IT. At least, she wouldn’t be completely clueless when he talked about the
things that interested him.
Butterflies, or something a little less pretty and hope-inspiring, fluttered in his stomach when he thought about the date. Or, more accurately, the night after the date.
An obnoxious, high-pitched male voice popped his thoughts like the tip of a butcher’s knife slamming into a latex balloon. “Hey, Al, need help figuring out how to work the keyboard? You have to push the letter that matches the one in front of your choice. It’s hard, we know.”
He bumped the button for the chocolate and marshmallow candy bar. Damn! Chocolate would be the death of the great apes and now he was a contributor. Not that he wouldn’t eat it. Wasting food would not do a single positive thing for the apes or anybody else. He snatched the candy from the machine’s tray and turned to face his tormentor. “Hi, Tim. How’s it hanging, buddy?”
Tim’s ever-present sidekick, Bob, stood next to him snickering. “Why do you ask, Al? You think about other guys’ junk a lot?”
If he could be sure the rocket would get lost in space, dooming everyone onboard to a gruesome death, he’d secretly suggest a spot for these goons. “I noticed your avatar took some bad hits in the game last night.”
“Noticed your avatar is the weakest, most pathetic one in the whole of Middle Techtopia.”
“His powers have yet to be fully realized.”
“Like your adolescence,” Tim said and jabbed an elbow at his friend.
Albert squeezed the candy bar so hard it squished beneath the pressure. The two losers blocked his exit from the vending room. “Excuse me, guys. I gotta get back to work now.”
“Why? Does the janitor need help rebooting his computer?” Tim asked.
“I heard you solved the mystery of the laptop on the fourth floor that needed to be plugged in,” Bob added. “Surprised you had the brain power to figure that out.”
Tim laughed. “He probably spent an extra twenty minutes crawling around under the desks trying to get a peek up someone’s skirt.”
Albert’s face burned. The fact of the matter was, he may have stolen a glance or two, but who could hold that against him? He’d been under a table where eight of the youngest, firmest girls of the secretarial pool were working. “You know, you should have more respect for me. I was talking with Jones himself this morning and he told me he valued my work here at Coleum. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of someone who could end up being your boss one day.”
The men howled.
“He probably mistook you for the guy who’s been doing a stellar job of keeping the executive toilets clean,” Bob said.
Tim held his gut and doubled over in glee.
Albert shoved his way past them and out of the room. Someday, they’d pay. The two of them and every other low-life idiot who didn’t understand the greatness that simmered at his core.
Chapter Ten
Richard
Burke emerged for lunch and ate her turkey sandwich wearing a black and silver sweat suit and a scowl.
Maddie dished an unsolicited spoonful of olives onto Burke’s plate. “Really, Burke, I’d think you’d be more excited. A first date. You never know what could come from that. A whole world of possibilities lay before you.”
Burke made a face. “I’m sure he’ll offer me the moon.”
Maddie raised her brows. “He may be one of the few men in the world able to deliver on that promise.” She dabbed at her lips with a rose-colored linen napkin. “You know, the three of you, you’ve been on some kind of adventure. I get it. I do.” She tucked the napkin over her legs and held up her hands as though someone were arguing. “We all need a little change now and then.”
Oh, boy. Here it comes. Richard rolled his eyes at his cranberry sauce.
“But you’ve had your fun. You need to come home now. Dad, there’s no way you’re getting the proper doctor’s care you should have while you’re gallivanting around the country sleeping in sleezy motels. And Burke, it’s not too late for you to start a family. They’ve got all these fancy fertility doctors and such. Why, that woman from that show on Wednesday nights just had a baby and she must be at least five years older than you. Right now, you’re still young enough to think you’ll never really be old, but let me tell you, one day you’re going to realize you’re at the end of the line and there’s no one there with you because we’ll all be long gone by then.”
Stanley leaned forward as if to say something. The movement drew her eye. “And Stanley, dear, a man of your age, you ought to be pampered, comfortable. You said yourself that real meals with loved ones are too few and far between. Why not come with Dad and me to check out this new facility? I just know he’s going to love it there. They have all sorts of activities and they even offer turn-down service in the evening. Maybe the two of you could be roomies!”
Stanley grinned.
Richard resisted the urge to throw an olive at him.
“Madeline, dear, I have never known another kind soul so interested in the welfare of others,” Stanley said.
Maddie blushed and waved his words away. “Isn’t that what the Good Lord told us to do?”
“Indeed, it is,” Stanley agreed.
“Well, it’s settled then. You’ll come with Dad and me when we go to our appointment.”
“What appointment?” Richard asked.
“Why, the appointment to fill out paperwork, of course. There’s an opening right now. It might not be there if you hesitate. We need to jump on it. I’ll call them and set it all up. Burke, you can stay here with me until we find you a place.” She gave a funny little side-eyed smile. “Or until you settle in with a certain Mr. Right.”
“I settled in with Mr. Right, remember? He left me for an underwear model,” Burke said.
“I’m sure you’ll do better this time.” Maddie clicked her fingernails against the edge of her dish.
The sound tapped against Richard’s brain. He wondered what kind of weapons the girl had strapped to her person and thought it might be a good idea to run interference before Burke did something that would land her on the six o’clock news—and not in a good way. “Could be the kid likes being single,” he suggested. “Maybe not every woman needs a man and a baby to turn her into a whole person.”
Burke and Stanley both gaped at him as if he’d said something astounding.
“What’re you staring at me for? I been listening,” he said.
Maddie puffed up with a long-suffering sigh. “No one likes being alone, Dad. Don’t you remember how lonely you were after you retired? Ambling around that house by yourself? Wasn’t it so much better at Everest? I mean, you met Stanley there. Everybody needs a friend, right?”
His final night at Everest, a bat-winged, fanged creature with a glossy ponytail and pink surgical scrubs had tried to suck his memories away, leaving him a dry husk of flesh. It was the only halfway enjoyable evening he’d spent at the place.
“Oh! Look at the time!” Maddie suddenly burst out. “Burke, we need to be at the salon in twenty minutes. Ida Wolf agreed to squeeze you in. We don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, dear. I like the braids. They’re lovely. You want something a little fancier for this party, though, don’t you? There are going to be Italians there.”
Burke stared across the table at her mother as if trying to decipher a foreign language. It really was impossible to argue with logic like Maddie’s.
The girls left again, with Maddie fussing as she backed out the door, “Don’t you touch those dishes, Stanley Kapcheck, or I’ll kick you out in the cold tonight. If you’re my guest you’re going to let me take care of you and you’ll be doing no cleaning up in my kitchen.”
“Oh, now, Madeline,” he replied. “You know I can’t just sit around with my feet up while you work your fingers to the bone taking such good care of us. I’ll wash dishes and I’ll be pleased to do it, and when you come back tonight, I’ll happily help you dirty them again.” He followed her
all the way to the car, tucked her in behind the steering wheel, and closed the door for her, even waved from the drive like a little housewife seeing her honey off to a hard day at the office.
“Something’s wrong with you,” Richard told him when he returned to the house.
“No doubt, a good many things,” Stanley agreed. “Come on, old boy. You can help dry.”
Richard would have been perfectly content to take a nice long nap, now that his belly was full to bursting after his second big meal of the day, but pride dragged him along in Stanley’s wake. Darned if he’d let the old goat be the hero of the day while he lazed around like the old man his daughter saw him as.
Stanley filled the sink with hot, sudsy water and set to scrubbing, and Richard dutifully took each dish, wiped it dry, and set it among its mates in the cabinets. He sent up a silent thanks that these plain white plates bore no resemblance to the fancier dishes they’d used last night. How many times had he dried dishes for Barbara while they talked about their day, the weather, the neighbors, the meaning of life, or the future they’d both assumed they would share together?
“What’d you find at the library?” he asked. “Anything about Coleum and the Italians?”
“I wasn’t looking for them,” Stanley told him.
Richard scowled. “Well, what in tarnation were you looking for then?”
“I was looking for accounts of a naked, vegetable-eating monster prowling the suburbs.”
Richard flung the dish towel over one shoulder and leaned against the counter. “Find anything?”
“I did,” Stanley said, setting a pot upside down in the rubber dish rack. “In fact, there have been no less than six separate reports of similar incidents. Gardens torn apart, garbage cans riffled, a short, naked man streaking through neighborhoods after dark. All six were in the police reports of the papers, but because three different precincts come together not far from here, it doesn’t appear that anyone has put it all together as related. Since it’s not anything more than a misdemeanor, I doubt anyone’s really tried.”
