by Tim Tingle
“My father is the one who will decide on that aspect of the contracts, so you will have to negotiate with him on that. He makes the final decisions.”
Their ‘freshened up’ drinks arrived, and she thanked the waiter, then, as soon as he was out of range, she again leaned over toward Travis, throwing her flaming red hair out of her face.
“Let me enlighten you to this one fact, Travis. Since I have been with my father’s company, almost eleven years now, I have had a perfect record! Sometimes it requires a dose of Viagra. But I do not intend for my streak to be broken! Most of the authors we published only became published, because I strongly recommended that we publish them. Father has never refused to publish someone I have recommended!”
“Your point being?”
“That if you want to secure royalties from ‘The Relic’, or sign your second book to contract, it will not happen without my recommendation!”
She and Travis both took a big drink, and glared at one another across the table. Her glare turned to a sweet smile. “Now, that is not too much to ask, is it?”
“Let me get this straight. You are trying to blackmail me into sleeping with you?”
“Blackmail is such an ugly word. I would rather say that I am encouraging you to agree to publishing under the Jester Books logo!”
“Well, you know that I am married, and in my mind, what you are suggesting is out of the question.”
“But your wife will never know!”
“That’s not the point. I have been accused of infidelity before, which was not true. So I am already treading on thin ice. I’m going to have to turn down your offer. I can get my second book published under a different logo. I would rather use a State-side company anyway, as a logistical thing.”
“Don’t be too hasty to decide. Jester Books is the parent company of a large book publisher in the United States, so getting copies to market will be no logistical problem. But don’t think you have to decide now. You’ll be here a whole week! Please think about it.”
“And I will feel the same on Friday as I do today.”
She gave him a sly smile. “But you have not yet seen all of my physical attributes, nor all the perks that Jester Books can offer!”
“I have seen enough, I think. And I’m sure there is nothing wrong with your ‘physical attributes’. You are very good looking, but you greatly cheapen yourself, by throwing yourself at men like you do. I know that my respect for you has dropped like a rock, in the past ten minutes!”
“Oh poo! What do I care about your respect! I am who I am! I need for no one to respect me!”
Travis just smiled. In this big, crazy world, it really does take all kinds, he thought. And some of these crazies are the kind I want nothing to do with. Here is a prime example of that, sitting across the table from me! It’s a crying shame that my future as a writer has to cross paths with someone like this. But isn’t that just my luck? He raised his glass to her, intending a deliberate insult. “A toast to you, Angel! You are a unique individual! May you never find the respect of others!”
For the first time, she did not smile, and Travis thought to himself, Good! Strike three, and I’m out of here! But then she raised her martini glass to him, with a smug wisp of a smile and replied, “You do understand me then! I find that to be such a turn-on in a man! I will certainly drink to that!”
Inwardly, Travis sighed. He was going to have problems with her, he could tell.
“I dare say that you will enjoy the time spent with me! In addition to immensely helping your writing career, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you helped a poor deprived British woman, who has particular needs and desires, that have for too long gone unsatisfied!”
“It sounds like you need a man in your life.”
“In the worst sort of way!”
“Ever thought of marriage?”
“Not even for two seconds! I need a husband, like I need a ball and chain around my ankle!”
“And I need an extra-marital affair, like I need a gunshot to the head! I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Would you change your mind if you could see this fabulous body of mine pressed up against you?”
“My wife is pretty fabulous herself. And besides that, she has access to a shotgun, and she knows how to use it! I have had to do some fast talking with that shotgun at my head, and I have no desire to get in that position again, thank you!”
“If you are scared, then just say you are scared!”
“I am scared of my wife’s shotgun! There. That was easy.”
“I guess I figured you for a bigger man than you really are, Travis! Most men would not turn down an offer like this!”
“What it proves, is that I am a better man, for being able to turn down such an offer.”
She took a big drink of her martini. “I respect your decision. For now. But as the week goes on, I will give you every opportunity to change your mind. Care for a little wager?”
“What kind of wager?”
“A wager that I will have you before this week is out!”
“It’s your money.”
“Nothing large, just a token wager of say, five pounds.”
“I wouldn’t want you to lose more than that.”
“Five pounds it is! And you will be paying me before you leave, my love, and you will be happy to do it! I always get what I want, and right now, you are on the top of my wish list!”
“Once again, I am a wanted man!”
Their dinner arrived, and the waiter poured the wine for them. Angel put her wager on the back burner, as they talked about other things, like British customs, and sights to see around London. Travis told her about Alabama, and what was different about living in the South. She had dozens of questions about every-day life in Alabama, and stated that she would like to go there one day. Usually Travis would extend his Southern hospitality to someone wanting to visit Alabama, by inviting them to come by his house and make themselves at home. Such invitations were given out as a courtesy, and seldom accepted, because few people he met overseas would actually ever be coming to the South. But he carefully neglected to offer such an invitation to this woman, because he was afraid she actually would show up at his door one day, and Janice would not be hospitable to her either.
Angel behaved herself all through dinner, setting aside her sexually charged innuendoes, for descent, intelligent conversation, which Travis found to be more pleasing. He thought perhaps she had given up on her wager, until after dinner was over, and the waiter came around to offer them dessert. Then she returned to her naughty self.
“No, I think we will go back to my apartment for our dessert!” She cut her eyes toward Travis as she said this.
“Yes Ma’am. Would you care for an after-dinner drink?”
“No, thank you,” Travis said. “I have had a very long day, and I must be going. Tomorrow will be another long day.”
“Yes, I think we will be going. Would you be so kind as to call a taxi for us?”
“Certainly, Miss Bagley.”
“Charge the dinner to Jester Books, and don’t forget to give yourself a big tip! The service was excellent, as usual!”
“Thank you, Miss Bagley, and please come again!”
As they rode the escalator down to the street level, she again asked Travis about his manuscript. “Will you still allow me to read your new manuscript?”
“Yes, you can read it, but I will need it back by Friday, because I will most likely be taking it back with me.”
“You don’t anticipate my father giving you a contract on it?”
“Not if it comes attached to all the stipulations you have placed on it! I would rather take it elsewhere. No offense.”
>
“Please don’t take me seriously, Travis! I like to mix business with pleasure, but I can also respect your wishes, if that is the only thing preventing you from signing with us. My ‘toying’ with you, should not interfere at all with our business deal.”
“Now you are talking sensibly.”
“I can make you the exception to my rule. We can be all business, and no pleasure, if that’s what you want.”
“In light of my marital status, that’s the way it has to be.”
“But all work, and no play, makes Travis a dull boy!”
“Well, I am what I am.”
As they reached the public sidewalk, she had an inspiration. “Do you know what would be great? Since it is only ten minutes of nine, we could go to my apartment and fix a drink or two, and relax in my hot tub! It looks out over the city, which is a wonderful sight at night! The moon is rising as we speak. Doesn’t that sound appealing?”
“I’ve never been in a hot tub, so I don’t know. Besides, I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
She smiled. “You have a birthday suit, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I don’t like to show it off.”
“Too bad!”
“Well, I’m off.”
“Wait! I can drop you off at your hotel on my way home.”
“It’s only six blocks. Besides, I would like to experience the London streets after dark anyway. I like walking.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes Ma’am. So I will see you at the book signing tomorrow?”
“Oh yes! My father and I will both be there. It will be a big affair”
“See you then.”
He was never more glad to get away from someone in his life. He was finally able to take a deep breath and relax. How ironic that she had the title of ‘Director of Author Affairs’, because it seemed that ‘affairs’ was all she thought about. Well, he had no intention of being another notch on her pistol!
He walked on in silence, as his tired mind raked over the debris of the long day. The afternoon nap had helped, but he was still bone tired. He didn’t care what the itinerary called for in the morning, he intended to sleep late, to get back into form.
Why me! Why does this always happen to me? He stopped in front of a closed business and looked at his reflection in the dark window. I ‘m not handsome, not by a long shot. I could stand to drop a few pounds, so what is it that women like Angel, and Miranda see in me? Maybe I should peruse a different hobby. Does being a writer turn some women on? Nah! It’s probably something that has nothing to do with me. Just one of life’s mysteries! If I could solve that mystery, the mystery of what turns women on, I could retire from the mine, and never write again! I’d have to learn to live like the rich and famous!
Immersed in thought, he quickly found himself in front of his hotel. Up in his room, he found his Mom and Drew dead to the world. They had been watching British TV when fatigue overtook them. He turned off the TV, brushed his teeth, and went to bed himself.
17
As Sunday evening was winding down in London, 5 time zones to the west, in Alabama, the Lees went to evening services at the First Thessalonians Missionary Baptist Church, near Laurel Grove. They didn’t always go to Sunday night prayer meetings, but this evening after church, they were having their final rehearsals for the play that the kids would put on Wednesday night. So everyone associated with the play was there that evening.
The play would highlight the Miracles of Jesus. They would portray the changing of the water into wine, feeding the multitudes with two fish and three loaves of bread, and then the raising of Lazarus from the dead, which was where the casket would come in. Chris Lee would be the bandaged up ‘Lazarus’. The final miracle of the play would be the Resurrection of Christ.
Joey’s friend, Cory, had borrowed his dad’s old truck to haul the casket from the Lee’s garage, to the church, so it would be there for Wednesday night. They had lugged it into one of the back Sunday School rooms until Wednesday. Cory was the one who was going to play the part of Jesus in the play. His dad was the funeral director at the Arlington Gardens Funeral Home. As they were hauling the Lee casket into the church, Joey asked him a question.
“Now tell me one more time, Cory, why couldn’t we use one of your Dad’s caskets from the funeral home?”
“I told you! All the caskets he has there are already sold! Hey, I did good to be able to borrow the truck! The least you can do is contribute the casket! Besides, your dad wasn’t using it. It was just collecting dust.”
“I told you what my dad said, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah! We can use it as long as we don’t scratch it! No problemo! What could possibly happen to it?”
“I wish I could go to that camp-out that the Presbyterians are putting on, down at the river! It sounds a lot better than this stupid play we’re putting on!”
“Tell me about it! Roasting hot dogs and telling ghost stories sounds better than a stupid play, any day! But we’ll have fun after the play!”
The Presbyterian Camp-Out they were referring to was an annual event put on by the big Presbyterian Church in Arlington, and was open to kids from all local churches, regardless of denomination. It was a sort of, summer ending event, they put on every year, right before the kids went back to school. Kids from all over the county were bused down to the big Presbyterian Church Retreat on the Cahaba River, where they roasted hot dogs and marshmallows, then built up a big bonfire and the youth directors from different churches took turns telling ghost stories until late in the night. Then the kids divided up into a boy’s camp, and a girl’s camp, and they rolled out their sleeping bags and spent the night on the river. There was very little sleep that night, however, because for most kids, this was the only time all year that they would get to camp out in the great outdoors. Most were too excited, or too scared to sleep. They would be fed a huge breakfast the next morning, then bused back home. It was one of the biggest events of the year, for kids in Arlington County.
But then, the old folks at their church had messed that up this year! Without even consulting to see if it would conflict with anything else, the Deacons had voted to have their annual kid’s play on this coming Wednesday evening, The very same evening of the big Presbyterian Church Camp-Out. When they realized this conflict in scheduling, the plans were already set, and the Deacons were reluctant to change it. The kids putting on the play were really disappointed, but their parents insisted that they go ahead with it. They were told that they could to the Camp-Out after the play, but that would be 9 PM or later. They would miss out on most of the fun.
So, Cory had come up with an alternative plan, and Joey thought it was a good one. Instead of going to the river to hear ghost stories, (which they were getting a little old for), they were going to stir up a little fright themselves! At sixteen, they had access to a truck, and a casket! Stir in imagination, and they had the recipe for a wild night! Instead of going to that childishly chaperoned Presbyterian Retreat, they were going to have some real fun! As Cory put it, with a grin, “We are going to be hell on wheels!”
* * *
Thirty miles away from Laurel Grove, in Kellerman, Miranda was still laboring over what to do with those two body parts which she had failed to bury under her pool. There were millions of options, as to what to do with the things, but when it came right down to deciding on what to do, every option seemed to have its flaws. The burial of the rest of the body went flawlessly, and it was only her own negligence that caused this present dilemma. She didn’t want to screw it all up, by doing something foolish and without thought. She could probably shove it down in her garbage can, and watch the garbage truck pick it up and compact it, like she had disposed of the chainsaw. The only problem with that was, if it happened to be found, it would be among her trash! Probably right beside a piece of junk mail, with her name and add
ress on it! That would be as foolish as a bank robber writing a hold-up note on one of his canceled checks, and handing it to the teller. Believe it or not, that had happened before.
Where was Travis, and his imagination when she needed him? His ideas always sounded better than hers. The parts were safe in her freezer, but for how long? She had to do something decisive soon, but what?
The phone rang. The I.D. said it was Leonard Kellerman, again. Why couldn’t he give her phone a rest? He was always calling her! She realized that he was a lonely boy trapped in an aging man’s body, and though she knew that he was no threat to her, she was repulsed by him. He was not handsome. He was not smart. He was not stylish. He seldom bathed. He was dumb as a rock. No, really. He really was as dumb as a rock! But he was always courteous and nice to her. Still, she did not feel like talking to him this evening. She just wasn’t in the mood to be nice. If she answered that phone, it was almost assured that she was going to say something ugly to him, something that she would later regret. So it was best to let him think that she was not home.
The poor fellow, she thought. Everyone shuns him, because he is different. Because he is inferior to them! Even me! I pity him, like he is a stupid bug! He can’t help the way he is, he was born that way. He is so nice! He will do anything I ask him to do! That caused her a moment of pause. Would he really? Would he be willing to help me with my little problem?
No, no! It was her problem, not his. Besides, he would probably screw it all up, because he was such a gossip that he would tell somebody! No, she couldn’t trust her secret to someone who was dumb as a rock. That just made no sense!
The phone continued to ring. She went ahead and answered it.
“Hello, Lennie!”
“Hi, Miranda! I don’t know how you knew it was me, but I’m glad you’re at home.”
“Do you need something, Lennie?”
“Uh, yes I do, but I hate to ask you.”
“You’ve called me, and I answered, so what is it?”
“I know you stay busy and all, and you’re getting a pool put in, but I don’t know who else to ask, and it’s such a long way!”
