Third Time Is a Charm

by Ed Nelson

  There must have been a hundred poinsettias sitting around, well maybe not a hundred but a whole lot. The men headed directly to the bar before I even had a chance to point it out, with the marine leading the way.

  After we had refreshments in hand, their whisky and my ginger ale, we chatted about the latest events at the studio. It seems Basil Rathbone still could take on anyone at swords. No one had fallen in a horse trough recently. I was invited to visit. I wondered if there was a connection. I don’t think I will chance it for a while.

  The subject of my skills came up. Mr. Pearson was concerned that I not only hadn’t progressed any further, but was in danger of back sliding. I tried to argue that since I was now an armed U.S. Marshal that I didn’t have to rely on unarmed defense, that I needed the skills for any movies I might be in, and there were none on the horizon.

  He had a slight twist of his mouth as I told him this.

  “So you are just going to shoot everyone?”

  “Well no.”

  “Then how will you defend yourself?”

  I remembered several things, when in a hole, stop digging, and if you can put a decision off for mature thought, do so.

  “You make a good point, now I have to figure out how to make the time.”

  “You know where I am.”

  Mr. Bell was more laid back.

  “Rick, your archery is more than good enough for any movie scene. At most some practice would bring you back to your peak. Have you thought about entering any other archery contests like last summer?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it, but if I’m in England next summer I might enter again. I wouldn’t make a special trip for it, but if I’m in the neighborhood.”

  I had a fleeting thought that things really had changed since Bellefontaine last year, ‘in the neighborhood,’ what sort of world was I living in?

  I excused myself when I saw other arrivals that I had invited. An unlikely couple were drinking wine and having a lively talk. I wondered what the short red headed surfer Nancy Katin and tall blonde Miss Sperry my studio teacher had in common.

  When I joined them I received an enthusiastic hug from Nancy and handshake from my teacher. Nancy was wearing a Santa hat which clashed terribly with her hair and whoever let her out of the house with that floral dress should be arrested. Miss Sperry with her dark rim glasses wore a severe dark suit. They both looked like they had dressed for a casting call, but definitely different movies.

  Nancy was on top and bubbling over with news about Corky Carroll. He had taken first place in the South African Open surfing tournament. This ensured him sponsors in the future. Of course she encouraged me to keep helping him. I told her I would for another year and then we would revisit the need. Corky would be back in the states in February, maybe we could get together then.

  Not wanting to leave Miss Sperry out of the conversation I once again thanked her for all her help this year and support through the oral exams. She graciously let Nancy and several other people who had joined our group to listen, know that it was my hard work that had made it all possible.

  Before she was done my ears must have been red.

  “Rick, have you looked into what you have to do to prep for the O and A-Levels?”

  “I didn’t know you could prep for them.”

  Without coming across as superior she let me know in matter of fact voice that it was like taking the SAT. You could take prep classes. There were also pre-examinations that could be taken to see what you needed in the way of tutoring to prepare you for the examination.

  This was all news to me and told me that I would probably be in England for longer than I had thought.

  “And that ladies and gentlemen is how Miss Sperry has helped me, yes I did the work, but she made certain I was doing the right work.”

  Then with a dramatic bow I took her right hand, and brushed my lips close to the back of her hand without actually touching.

  “Oh my Rick, you have been in too many movies.”

  That may be, but I saw several women close by start to fan themselves.

  “Probably so, but you are one teacher I will always remember.”

  With that I withdrew. Know when to hold’em, know when to fold’em was a saying Dad learned from a young country singer while playing poker. I quit while I was ahead.

  I spotted Mr. McGarry in the growing crowd so I drifted towards him. On the way I saw a lady with the ‘biggest’ hair curled up I have ever seen. She hadn’t used orange juice cans to curl her hair, more like Quaker Oats boxes.

  Mr. McGarry had been joined by Hank Smith my multi-engine instructor. As could be expected they were talking flying with their hands. Everyone in their vicinity kept their drinks held close.

  Once more there was an exchange of handshakes and congratulations on my recent up check ride. I related to Mr. McGarry how everyone who knew of him mentioned strafing the runway.

  “As I told that newspaper reporter I do it to keep my students interested, plus I destroyed more planes on the ground than in the air. Our bonus was based on planes destroyed, they didn’t care where. I think I will add shooting up trains next.”

  That gave us a laugh as I edged away. More people were showing up all the time and I had to do my rounds. I was starting to regret the wool suit I was wearing, the room was heating up.

  John Baxter and Susan Wallace were standing to the side so I joined them. It was near an open window with a slight breeze.

  “Mr. Baxter, how are you enjoying retirement?”

  “It didn’t last very long.”

  “Why, what are you doing now?”

  “Well I told you I was retiring. Then you sprang that documentary on your company on me. I no sooner got that settled then I got a call from a young actress that I couldn’t say no to, so I am representing her now.”

  I started to ask him why he couldn’t say “No”, when a cute little elf showed up.

  “Mr. Baxter I’m so glad you could make it, did you get a chance to review the contract that Mr. Monroe sent over?”

  I fled the scene to the sound of laughter.

  I joined Roberta Grimes, Sam Nielsen, Mark Downing and Sharon Bronson at a table with a poinsettia center piece. After ten minutes of listening to the merits of various honey moon sites and other wedding subjects I stood and told them I would see them all at dinner. I knew they were invited to the later event.

  Passing by an open French door I saw Popeye standing on the veranda. He was smoking a cigar so I joined him for the fresh air and escape from the crowd. He looked comfortable with his tie askew.

  “Popeye I think I enjoyed chipping paint better than this. I like everyone in there, but in small doses.”

  “Same here Rick, except I don’t even know most of them, how much longer does this have to go?”

  Glancing at my Bolivia watch I told him at least another couple of hours.

  Waving his large stogie around he told me he might make it last that long so he could stay out here. It seems Aunt Sybil only let him bring one cigar hoping to keep him in with the crowd.

  John Jacobs joined us tugging at his collar.

  “Man it is getting hot in there.”

  “Mum and Dad have been talking about getting one of those machines that will cool all the air in the house. I guess it works like a refrigerator. In the meantime I think I will hang out here.”

  It was around sixty-five degrees and a beautiful sunny day, at least at our place on top of the hills.

  Mr. Dawson my sword instructor was the next to join us. Mr. Danson from the school came out with a six pack of Mexicali Delight beers.

  “Anyone want one?”

  Ben Carpenter was the first to take him up on the offer.

  They didn’t last a minute. This started a trend of men coming in and out to get drinks. Soon many of them were having a smoke. Popeye appeared to be the only one with matches. He was striking them off the sole of his shoe constantly.

  All good things have to end. Mum
appeared in the doorway and summoned me with a twist of her hand.

  “Rick we need you in here to keep conversations going like a good host.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but then shut it, when in a hole, stop digging. I thought my being out here was entertaining many of our guests.

  Dennis Lawson was by himself near the bar, so I joined him. I asked him how his on air reports were going. That was the right question. I was able to drink my coke while he related what had been occurring. Apparently there was a market niche and he was the first one there.

  His program originally started with 12 radio stations and now was up to 415. The show had been syndicated and was projected to be in every major market next year. He thanked me several times for the opportunity.

  I didn’t see any reason to share that it had been a comedy of errors that made it happen.

  Thankfully it was nearing 4:00 and the crowd was thinning out. Dennis made his goodbyes and I looked around to see if I could help people out the door.

  I needn’t have bothered. The elves had it well in hand. Mary would march up to a group, followed by the two boys each carrying several baskets. Mary would thank them for coming. The boys would present them with a basket.

  In the meantime the bar had been closed and staff was clearing tables.

  Everyone took the hint.

  The guests that were staying for dinner had discretely taken the elevator to the top of the tower where hors d'oeuvres where being served. Also two guest rooms had been set aside for the ladies to freshen up.

  I took the opportunity to retire to my room and take a shower and put on fresh clothes. I kept the same suit and tie but changed everything else. That kept my look but made me look fresh and clean cut. I had learned to do this between scenes in my movies.

  John Wayne had told me to do this. It made me look cool, calm, and collected. What I thought of as the James Bond look. The image John Wayne practiced was the just came in from the range look.

  I checked the map that had been set on an easel outside of the dining room. Mum told me I would be seated next to an unescorted lady and that I was to be certain to introduce myself and seat her at the table.

  As a dutiful son, repeating ‘why me lord, why me,’ I went up to the tower and introduced myself to Miss Doris Tucker, former owner of Tucker Academy.

  She was not what I expected at all. This was not a frumpy lady in a lavender ball gown. This was a woman who had aged gracefully dressed in the preverbal black dress with a strand of pearls. Her hair was done in a style of long ago, but on her it looked natural.

  She was in a group with Anna Romanov and Mum.

  Using my best manners I waited for a break in the conversation and introduced myself.

  She looked me over and commented.

  “A little young, but he will do.”

  The ladies thought this was funny. I wasn’t sure what to think.

  If nothing else this taught me that not all was as expected. She turned out to be a witty conversationalist and a pleasure to have dinner with. While not dominating the conversation she steered it, so that all seated near us were included in the discussions. There was no back biting.

  I was amazed at the life this person had led. I begin to think that the movie ‘Auntie Mame’ had been modeled on her life. The only difference was the movie was more restrained.

  Dad made the welcoming speech to thank all for sharing their holidays with us. There was the traditional champagne toast to all. The meal was a mere seven courses.

  There was enough wait staff. Each waiter served four guests which kept things moving nicely. The caterer had a field kitchen set up in tents behind the house so all the food was done at the same time.

  The touch I liked most of all was the Christmas poppers. Mum had ordered them special made from England. The gift in the ladies was a diamond tennis bracelet. Men had onyx tie tacks and cuff links also with diamonds.

  When I first learned of this I thought it would be too expensive. I quickly learned that this sort of gift was de rigueur in our new level of society and besides the diamonds weren’t of the first water. I had to look up de rigueur in the dictionary.

  We all popped our poppers and wore our silly paper crowns, all of us except Mary who was no longer a little elf. Somehow she had transformed into a little princess, tiara and all.

  I didn’t think the diamonds in her tiara were real, but I no longer was going to guess on any of it. I had a real disconnect moment. Was I on the set of the ‘Great Gatsby?’

  Bellefontaine this wasn’t.

  The moment lasted exactly that, a moment. Looking around I saw many people I knew having a relaxed good time. There was none of the frantic forced look that I envisioned from the large parties on the verge of the Great Depression.

  Dick and Janice Wyman, she looked like she would deliver before the night was over, sat next to Mr. Monroe and his secretary Donna. Across from them were Mr. and Mrs. Baxter.

  Don Pearson and his spouse sat across from Todd Goodson and his wife. They appeared to be having a good time, but you could see Mrs. Pearson was mentally taking notes of what the other women were wearing.

  Mark Downing along with Sharon Bronson seemed to have become attached to Roberta Grimes and Sam Neilsen. This was to be expected as they were the same age and both couples were engaged. Joining them were Ben Carpenter and his blacksmith girl-friend, his plus one. I couldn’t think of her name, I’m not even certain I had ever heard it.

  Popeye and Sybil were at the center table with Mum and Dad. I would have bet that Popeye as an old ships bosun would be the most ill at ease person there. Instead he looked and acted as though he was born to it.

  Anna Romanov sat with Sam Wingate and you would have thought they were an old married couple they were so comfortable with each other. Mrs. Hernandez was accompanied by a very distinguished gentleman of Spanish descent. With his silver gray hair it looked like he should be in the movies.

  As I looked out at the people sitting at our table I realized it was our real new life. I think for the first time it sank into me the changes that had occurred and the high bar that was set for me and my family.

  I think Mary was the well-adjusted one as she cheerfully flitted around the room saying hello to everyone. She was young enough this life must seem normal to her.

  The dinner was not the opulence of the gilded age, but it was fancy. At least I didn’t have to wear a tux or worse yet a tailcoat and tie, although it would have been fun to see all the ladies in hats with large feathers.

  Some of the ladies had small pill box hats that were coming into fashion. None of them wore white gloves so I guess their time was done.

  After dessert which was a baked Alaska the men adjourned to the veranda for a cigar and whiskey, the ladies back to the reception for tea. Well it said tea on the card, but I noticed the sideboard had a large variety of liquor. To fortify the tea I imagine.

  I took the opportunity along with my siblings to return to our rooms. The vibrant Mary had run out of energy and I ended up carrying her to her room. I helped remove her shoes and tiara. She made me turn around as she put on her pajamas, but I was allowed to tuck her in. As she snuggled down she gave me a smile.

  “Sweet dreams Princess.”

  And with that the day caught up with me. I read for a while then went to bed early.

  Chapter 54

  Christmas Eve was a quiet day at the Jackson House. We all seemed to be recovering from yesterday’s parties. All the shopping had been done, presents wrapped. We hadn’t put the cat out as Mittens had decided she was a house cat.

  The kids spent time shaking packages from each other that were under the tree. I was above such childish endeavors, besides I had my turn early, before I went out to run.

  Mary was the worst. She kept asking me what I got her. I broke down and told her I had given her a new blanket. What I didn’t add it was a horse blanket. For some reason she didn’t believe me when I told her that, so she just kept on for mo
st of the morning.

  After lunch I went surfing for the afternoon. Wonder what they were doing in Ohio, besides shoveling snow.

  After dinner we retired to the family sitting room with Mum’s British Christmas tree. There was a small fire in the fireplace. The veranda doors were open to let in the cool evening air. Candles were lit around the room.

  Mum, Dad, Mrs. Hernandez, and Ben Carpenter were waiting.

  Our family tradition was to allow us to open one present from each other. Mary chose to open one of those that I had bought her. She was really excited to get a blanket in the Jackson colors with “Misty” embroidered on one side and “Mary Jackson” along with the Jackson coat of arms on the other.

  I opened my present from Eddie. It was a BSA logo knife to replace the one I had given him, a really cool Swiss Army knife that I could put on my key chain.

  Ben was pleased with a new veterinarian bag, which to me looked like a Doctors black house call bag. This was from Dad.

  Mrs. Hernandez opened a gift certificate for a day at a beauty spa. She blushed as she told Mum her timing was good. I would have to look into to this. I think our housekeeper was dating!

  Christmas morning wasn’t the pandemonium that we normally had in Bellefontaine. I think it was because we had a larger room to spread out. Also someone had thoughtfully placed a plastic trash bin in the corner for all the wrapping paper.

  We all sat in a large circle of chairs and couches. Everyone had housecoats and slippers on. The kids wore their elf hats.

  The first present I opened from Mum and Dad was a new Jepsen case for my flight log and maps. It had my initials embossed in gold. We went around the room each opening our gifts one at a time. It took longer, but we ended up seeing what each other had received.

  In one corner next to the golf club bags for Mum and Dad were three new Schwinn bicycles. I doubted any of them were for me, maybe a new car in the drive way? A Ferrari would be good.

  A kid can dream can’t he?

  Instead my gift from “Santa” was in an envelope. I had trouble figuring out what it was. I finally sorted it out that it was a new airplane hangar.