The Fabulist

by Dawn L. Chiletz

  Finola solemnly approaches us. “It doesn’t look good for me, my friends.” Shaking her head, she adds, “I don’t understand it. I thought I did well today. Samantha, what did you say for the twelve-year-old and stolen radio?”

  I think for a moment. “I said it was a lie, because he mentioned putting it in his backpack to see if it would fit. That seemed like a lie so I said the whole thing was a lie.”

  She shakes her head, “Well, maybe I didn’t do as well as I thought then.”

  I notice Cocoa and Stuck-Up are stealing glances at us. “I think we should take this outside.”

  Maria, Carmen, Finola, and I move into the hall. As we exit, I make a head motion to Braveheart. We need to talk. He nods once to indicate he understands.

  I pretend to have forgotten something in my room and Braveheart follows me to the elevators. We step to the side, out of sight.

  “This is our chance to get rid of Cocoa,” I tell him.

  “Cocoa?”

  I roll my eyes as I glance over my shoulder to be certain no one sees us. “Whatever her name is, the bitch needs to go.”

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry, Sam, but that’s not going to happen.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Courtney already has Carter, George, Ervin, and Tom. It seems you have Maria and Carmen. Brenda is undecided. Let’s say you were able to get Brenda. That would make it four against four, including you. That means I would have the deciding vote. If I vote for Finola, than they know I’m playing them. I can’t do it. It’s not like we need Finola. To be honest, she hasn’t had much to offer from the start.”

  I try to figure out how to get through to him. “Courtney is trouble. She and your roommate are up to no good. They both need to go. What if we made them doubt Tom or Ervin? I could talk to them in private and we could get Stuck—your roommate to believe they betrayed him.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to work,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Why not? What if I—”

  “I say we leave it as is. I’m not comfortable with it.”

  My gut is screaming me he’s not telling me everything. “You won’t even listen to my plan. What’s up?”

  “There just isn’t enough time. We’ll figure out how to get them another way, okay? I think someone’s coming. We’ll talk later.”

  With that, he dashes off. Braveheart is a bad name for him. He’s not brave at all. I’m also convinced he’s a double spy. I think I need to put that theory to the test.

  “THE SECOND PERSON eliminated from the competition is…”

  Please say Cocoa, please say Cocoa.

  “Finola Hawthorne. You have been captured by the lie. Checkmate. Your game is over.”

  Dammit. The screen goes dark. The Fabulist is gone and now so is Finola.

  Bryce places an arm around her as Cocoa hurries back to her side of the room, giving high-fives and fist bumps.

  “Finola, it’s been a pleasure having you on the show. We’ll certainly miss you. I’m sorry I have to say this, but please return to your room and pack your bags.”

  “Thank you, Bryce. You’re a wonderful host.”

  Bryce hugs her and then she turns to us. She makes a fist and punches an invisible target. I know she’s telling us to go get them.

  Carmen, Maria, and I go to the bar and grab a table in the back. Braveheart, the not so brave, and Stuck-Up are at a table as well.

  “Well, ladies, it looks like it’s just us,” I say, leaning my elbows on the table.

  “What are we going to do?” Carmen asks.

  “Maybe I can try to get Ervin on our side,” Maria suggests.

  “I bet if I try, BM might be swayed.”

  “BM?” Maria questions. “Oh, Brenda Meyer, got it.”

  Carmen attempts to stifle a laugh, but she can’t.

  “What did I miss?”

  I sigh. “I can’t remember people’s names very well, so I give them nicknames. I named her BM for Big Mouth before I even met her, because her laugh was painful and obnoxious. I kinda feel a little bad about it now, because she’s not a bad person. I suppose I should start calling her Brenda. I’m getting a little better with names actually.”

  “Do I even want to know mine?” Maria asks, crinkling her nose.

  “You were Mighty Maria.”

  She smiles brightly. “I like that. I like it a lot. I think you should call me Mighty from now on. Almighty is even better.”

  When Maria leaves to use the bathroom, I explain to Carmen how I plan on pretending to get drunk to see what information I can get out of Jack at the bar.

  “Can I help? I could keep fussing over you, saying you had too much and stuff.”

  “That might work, but if he clams up, I may need you to leave. Deal?”

  “You betcha.”

  I’m fully aware the cameras caught our entire conversation, but Hogan isn’t here. Hopefully I don’t have to put on my show for him.

  Maria decides to call it an early night, so Carmen and I sit at the bar. I align myself in front of Jack. He’s one of the few extras allowed to be on film. “How’s my favorite bartender in the world?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t be your favorite if the drinks weren’t free.”

  I hold a hand up to my heart. “I’m offended. You’re my favorite because of your name. Speaking of which, I think it’s time we celebrate with a little Jack.” I pound my fist on the bar.

  Carmen hoots.

  “What are we celebrating?” he asks, grabbing two glasses and pouring us drinks.

  Carmen pushes hers to me and whispers, “Diet Coke celebration over here, please.”

  Jack huffs out a laugh as I quickly down one, then the other.

  “We… are celebrating still being in the game, even though the odds appear to be stacked against us.” I wink at Carmen and she winks back. I’m certain Jack saw.

  Jack refills both my glasses after I push them toward him.

  “Sammy, slow down.” Carmen laughs. “We have all night.”

  “Why are the odds stacked against you?”

  I curl my finger toward him before I take another shot. He inches closer and I glance around the room, noting the female camera operator is filming me. There’s no sign of Hogan, and Stuck-Up is still occupying the corner seat, chatting with Braveheart. Saying his name in my head makes me wince. I don’t want to call him that any more.

  “See that dude with the long hair.” I giggle in my best I’m getting tipsy voice. Jack turns toward him. “Jeez, Louise, Jack my man, don’t be so fucking obvious,” I whisper and take another shot. I need a different drink. Jack is getting old.

  He shakes his head. “What about him?”

  “He’s a big ole meany stinkypants,” I say, laughing. I catch Carmen’s face out of the corner of my eye and it makes me laugh even more. Good thing it’s in character. Her lips are pressed together and she has her fingers over them as she tries not to smile. She’s doing a great job of pretending to be embarrassed by me. Maybe she really is.

  “A meany stinkypants, you say?” Jack gazes at Carmen and she shrugs. I down my other shot.

  I reach across the bar and touch his arm, pulling him into me and murmuring in his ear. “Jack, you’re my bestest friend ever, but I think I want some Scotch now. You don’t mind, do you, Flapjack?”

  I remove my cardigan and place it on the bar, before giving him my pouty face.

  “Not at all, sweetheart. Are you sure you shouldn’t take it easy?”

  “This is a party, isn’t it?” I yell loudly as I swing my sweater above my head. I get the attention of the guys, as planned.

  Carmen hides her head. “Sam, please slow down.” She’s so serious, I wonder if she means it.

  “So why is he a meany stinkypants?” Jack asks as he pours me some Scotch then begins to wash my other glasses.

  “’Cause I like him and he doesn’t like me,” I pout. “Can you imagine not liking me?”

  �
��Not at all, sweetheart. Not at all.”

  Jack turns to face the bottles on the wall behind him and I motion to Carmen to leave.

  “Will you be okay if I go?” she asks. “I’m tired and it’s been a long day.”

  “Awww, you party pooper,” I say, waving her off. “Yeah, get out of here. Remember we put our plan in action tomorrow,” I add in a too-loud whisper.

  Carmen reacts perfectly. “Shh… be quiet,” she hisses, glancing around.

  I wave her off. “It’s just us and my boy, Jack! We can trust him. He gives us drinks!” I hold up my glass to him in a toast before I chug it.

  He grins.

  “Now scoot,” I tell her. “Go get some sleep. I’m heading up too.”

  “You are?” she asks.

  “Yep.” I shake my head no to Jack and giggle when she glances away.

  “Okay. Night then.” She waves.

  “Nighty nighty night!”

  Carmen rolls her eyes and snorts as she exits.

  Turning my attention to Jack, I ask, “So, Jack, why do you think he doesn’t like me? I’m kinda cute, right?” I take another shot and Jack is quick to make sure my glass is never empty.

  “Yes you are.” Cocoa enters the bar, and I notice Hogan is following her with the camera. I cringe as my doubts about him resurface. Refocusing on my task, I continue. “Would you date me?”

  “If I weren’t married, yes I would,” he says.

  Pushing my empty glass to him I say, “Aww… my Flapjack is married? Does she know what a lucky girl she is?”

  “I don’t think so. She works a lot of hours and she’s not too happy with me right now.”

  “What does she do?” I ask.

  “She’s a pharmacist. Super smart too.”

  “Why is she not happy with you?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Aww, she misses her Flapjack!”

  I down another shot and fake almost falling from the stool. As I catch myself, I notice a bit of concern on Hogan’s face.

  Jack pours me another drink. I rub my nose with my palm and steady myself against the bar, glancing at Braveheart, who’s not so brave. “It’s good he doesn’t know I like him though, ‘cause then I can keep my secret and not feel bad.”

  “The secret that you like him?”

  “No, silly, the secret that I already know the answers for tomorrow.” I add a drunken “Shh…” then giggle.

  “How’d you manage that?”

  “It’s a secret. They don’t know. It’s how I do so well in the challenges.” I lean forward and wave him closer. “Every day someone slips me the answers. I already have tomorrow’s under my mattress. Don’t tell. One of the producers likes me.” I wink.

  He zips his lips. I down my final shot for the night and stumble off the stool onto the floor, laughing hysterically. Hogan hands his camera to another crew member and rushes to help me up. He bends down to my level and sighs, staring at my eyes.

  “Oops. I think the room fell down.” I giggle and snort.

  “Nope, just you.”

  He turns to the female camera operator. “I’ll help her to the elevator and take over filming once she’s inside. Unless you think you can get her to her room and film too?”

  “You go ahead. Not sure I can handle her.”

  I glance up at her and she winks at me. My eyes grow wide. Does she know I like him? What the fuck?

  “All right, Ms. Wittaker. I’m going to help you to the elevator, okay?”

  “I can do it myself,” I slur, pushing him away. It has to seem realistic. I push up from the floor and grab my sweater, noticing the condescending looks from Stuck-Up, his new BFF, and Cocoa, as expected.

  Making a grand gesture, I shout, “Good night, Flapjack. Fare thee well, fare thee well.”

  He grins and waves back as I stumble to the elevator, laughing. Hogan films me the entire way. Once we’re inside and out of sight, I stop laughing almost immediately. He films me curiously as I push floor two instead of three. I stand up straight and fix my hair, then lean back against the wall and cross my arms. I see a raised eyebrow beside the lens, and I know he has no idea what just happened. Knowing Cocoa is in the bar, I exit the elevator, glance both ways to see if anyone is watching, and walk calmly to Carmen’s door and knock.

  She opens the door and begins to clap. “You were so awesome! How’d it go?”

  “Pretty sure they bought the whole thing.”

  “Did you tell him you had the answers?”

  “Yep, and you played your part perfectly, girlfriend.” We fist bump and do the explosion. “Now we wait and see. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

  Carmen glances at Hogan, then back to me. “Sam?”

  “Yeah?” I pivot to face her.

  “You aren’t really attracted to DJ like you said, right?”

  I blow air from my lips. “Hell no. He’s nowhere near my type.”

  “And you’re okay? You had, like, six shots.”

  “Actually it was more like eight. I’m a bit fuzzy but perfectly fine. See you in the morning.”

  The elevator doors close and he drops the camera to his side. “Eight shots, huh?”

  “I can hold my liquor.”

  “You can act too, apparently.”

  “Oh, I’ve been drunk before. Just calling on experience.”

  The doors open and the camera is back on his shoulder. I’m careful now as I make my way to my room. Brenda is playing cards again on her bed and seems happy to see me. I fake drunkenness once again, because I don’t know if I can trust her or not. I’m pleasantly surprised I remember her real name. I can’t call her BM anymore.

  “Oh, man.” She laughs. “You look like I did last night.”

  Deciding to take advantage of my supposed state, I flop on her bed. “Bren.” I giggle as I realize I sound like Dylan from 90210. “Bren,” I repeat. “I have questions for you.”

  “Okay, sweetie. What are they?”

  “Do you… do you sell sex toys?” I whisper loudly with my hand up to my face.

  She cackles and my ears ring.

  “You are smart. Yes. Yes I do.”

  “Do you have any with you? I’m curious.”

  She grins from ear to ear and pushes off the bed. “It just so happens I do.” She rushes to her suitcase and Hogan films her. His eyes dart to me and I wink at him. His eyes communicate he knows I’m up to something.

  She pulls her suitcase to the bed and unzips it. I kneel on the floor beside it as a plethora of dildos of various sizes is splayed in front of me.

  “Holy vagina basters!” I laugh, accidentally sobering up. “I didn’t expect this.”

  “This is the Go Get It midget.” She holds up a small silver egg. “It does the trick and is small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.”

  “What’s this one called?” I point to a very, very large blue tube-like structure with what seems like a dolphin tail at the end.

  “This is called The Blue Beaver Beater. It’s for, well, girls who want more than will usually fit.”

  This is the best. Hogan wipes his forehead. I think he’s sweating.

  “And what’s this pink one?” I question, pointing to a fairly thick dildo with a bunch of buttons.

  “This is my favorite,” she says excitedly, kneeling next to me. It’s called The Pink Pearl Polisher, but it’s not just for clitoris stimulation, trust me.”

  I cross my legs. “Can I hold it?” I ask.

  “Sure.” She hands it to me, but I stop mid-reach.

  “Wait. Is it… um… clean?”

  She cackles, but I don’t mind this time. “It’s brand new, doll. I have my own. These are for show in case a moment like this should arise. A good businesswoman is always ready to sell.”

  I grasp it in my hands. “What are all the buttons for?”

  She leans over. “The top one rotates.”

  I push it and the penis head moves in a circle. “In-ter-est-ing,” I say slowly and
excitedly.

  “The button below it makes it go faster.”

  I push it several times until it’s whirring in a circle so fast, I almost fall over laughing. I immediately pulse down to slow it.

  “This button makes it vibrate, obviously faster and faster. And the other button, well, try it.”

  After pushing the bottom button, the pearl polisher retracts and pushes out, repeating the motion. I push the rotate, vibrate, and penis motion faster and faster until it’s gyrating so much, it almost slips out of my hand. Brenda and I laugh.

  “Sorry,” I apologize, slowing it down.

  “Honey, everyone does it.”

  She explains two other models to me before pulling out some cherry-flavored lube. “Oh, yeah. I don’t need lube. I’m plenty wet.”

  I purse my lips when Hogan softly sighs.

  “Well this has many uses. It can be used for people who want more moisture, but it’s also good for the back door, if you know what I mean.”

  I blush and clear my throat. “I know what you mean.”

  “You know, when you’re drilling for oil.”

  I laugh. “Riding the Hershey highway?”

  She points to me and we both giggle. “My toys sobered you up pretty quickly!” she states with a curious finger along her lips.

  “Yeah, that was fun, Brenda. Thanks for sharing that with me. Someday, I’ll have to have you do a party for me and my closest… well, friend. I guess for Carmen and me. I would kill to see her face at a demonstration—that is, if you aren’t working for The Fabulist instead.”

  She blows a kiss on her fingertips and throws it to the sky. “From your lips.” Her laugh is probably a cackle, but it doesn’t bother me as much. She’s really a nice person. I feel bad for ever calling her something other than her name.

  I help her pack up her toys and get ready for bed. I change into my T-shirt and as I leave the bathroom, Hogan gives me a warm, almost smoldering look. I could give him a show, but I don’t want to. I think he’s had enough for one day and the heat coming from him tells me the same. Pulling the sheets, I climb into bed as Brenda sets up her cards for her next solo game.

  “Goodnight, Brenda.”