Third Time Is a Charm

by Ed Nelson

  “I’m not certain about that. He had the cost of a flight from the east coast, the fine whatever it will be; a long week end in jail with a bunch of drunks, and worse of all pictures of him will appear in the papers he normally sells to.”

  “He will be a laughing stock in the industry. I hope that will make the paparazzi think twice about messing with people. Most of all it will show my former girlfriend that I don’t take messing with me and mine lightly.”

  It made me feel a little weird when I said former girlfriend, but I might as well face reality.

  The rest of the morning was spent with taking glamour shots of me in various poses with a pretty girl on my arm and many a change of costume for me and the girls.

  The girls were professional models hired for the occasion and they knew what they were doing. The hangar office was used as an impromptu changing room. Sam Nielsen had hedged all his bets. He had hired one of the studio makeup ladies for the morning. I had worked with her several times in the past.

  It wasn’t like movie make up, this was lightly done to emphasize cheek lines and shadows. It went like clockwork. I could see that Sam could have a future in this. He might even end up with his own modeling agency. The reason I thought this was from the questions the two models had about what other work he might have.

  They were very favorably impressed with how this had come together on such short notice. Other people they had worked with would have made this a painful day for all involved.

  I was proud of Denny. He worked with us on every shot, clearly having a vision of what he wanted, and very patient in explaining it to us. At times he would set his camera down and pose us, or even show us the pose. The young ladies, Cindy and Patty weren’t divas about it, they worked with him. When he had them in an awkward position they suggested changes which he usually went along with. It was a team effort.

  About ten o’clock a catering truck showed up, and we took a break. This had been arranged by Sam. The more I saw of him the more impressed I was. As we were eating donuts and sipping coffee I asked him if he was considering expansion.

  “Roberta and I have been discussing this ever since we received the call from Mr. Larsen. It would be a natural for us, but we don’t have enough money to bankroll the startup. We’re not certain the banks would loan us the money for this sort of venture. Even if I pledged the studio as collateral we wouldn’t have enough.”

  This was one of the few times that my having money really hit me as a good thing.

  “Would you consider a silent partner?”

  He raised an eyebrow at that. “Yes, if it was the right one.”

  “Come up with a business plan and I will buy in.”

  A very excited looking Sam nodded his head. “I will do that this weekend.”

  We hadn’t been sitting alone during this conversation. We were at a picnic table just outside the hangar. The others present; the models, makeup artist, and even my brother let it be known they were available at need for any and all projects. Mr. Larsen said he would let us use his hangars and planes as a set if needed, at a fee of course or paid in kind.

  “Rick, you may have to be one of our models until we are more established.”

  I thought, Oh Lord you stupid boy, now what have you gotten yourself into.

  We went back to work after the break. The setup I liked most was me in a World War I flying outfit. It had been borrowed from the studio. I had a flight jacket, leather helmet, and long white scarf. I thought I looked very dashing. The way Denny draped the models over me cemented the thought, at least to me.

  As a bonus to the models Denny took extra shots of them alone for their portfolios. They loved how they were being treated.

  Mr. Larsen also interviewed me for a few quotes that he could include in the ads script. I wouldn’t want to be a model full time as I didn’t have the patience for photograph after photograph of the same basic pose. I was too used to moving around. I was ready to change my mind about that after changing clothes in the same room as the two girls.

  They weren’t modest at all. It also meant that I had to act the same. That was a little weird being in my underwear with two attractive ladies in the room. It didn’t help that they openly admired the merchandise. I didn’t realize how shy I was until that day. I would get over it.

  We wrapped up on time. Denny and I helped Sam tear everything down. Mr. Larsen was anxious to see the pictures, so he could deliver them to the magazine. Denny and Sam were going to their studio and develop them and have them back to Mr. Larsen later this afternoon.

  The topping on the cake for the models, and make up lady was the check that Sam had prepared for them. Work was lean for them this time of year, so this was really a nice extra. I could see Sam being a very attractive employer in a market where models could make or break you.

  I headed home to clean up for our very modest New Year’s Eve. By modest I meant the kids and I. Mum and Dad were going to the Mayors party. We kids were staying home. I could have gone to one of several parties, but had sent my regrets after Judy’s breaking up with me. I didn’t feel very sociable.

  If I went to any parties there would be girls like that twelve year old earlier who had given me her phone number, which I had promptly thrown away. I didn’t feel up to that sort of attention. It would be like being a piece of meat at a steak house.

  When would I ever meet a nice girl that would like me for me, not for what I did, or for what I was worth? Maybe I should start hanging around rich young heiresses. I wondered if Mr. Hilton had a grand-daughter, if I went to school in England maybe a Duchess or two.

  At home I went down to the basement playroom where Eddie and Mary were goofing off. I was no sooner in range of Mary than I heard a ring-ring. I picked up a tin can sitting on an end table.

  “Eddie it’s for you.”

  He glared at me as he took it. I love my little sister, but there was no way I was going to spend half an hour listening to her troubles with her dolls on two tin cans joined by a string.

  Though in the past, the things her dolls got up to were interesting. I just hoped Mary didn’t try any of those stunts when she was older. A lot of them she had heard about from Dad. What was funny to him wasn’t funny to Mum. I had never heard of setting a paper bag filled with fecal matter on fire on some ones front porch, ringing the doorbell and hiding to see them stomp the fire out.

  Dad’s childhood in the depression was a little more than we could handle these days. Though I remembered fondly the noise maker he had shown me how to make.

  We took an empty wooden-spool that was used for sewing thread and cut notches around the edges on both ends. Then we passed a long thin string through the center of the spool and tied the ends together and wrapped the string around the barrel of the spool.

  Then using a nail as an axel I was supposed to hold it against a window and pull the string as fast as I could. The notches cut into the end of the spool made an unholy racket as they hit the window glass when I tried it at home.

  I was in the fourth grade then because I took it to school. I had it out to use on a window in the classroom when Mrs. Jernigan our teacher saw it and took it away. She told me that she hadn’t seen one in school since the 1930’s. I was to tell my Dad he was a bad boy. She kept the spool. Dad had a big laugh when I told him at dinner, Mum not so much.

  That got me thinking about the changes in my life since then. I had hitchhiked across the country, flown coast to coast many times, and sailed to South America, Africa, and Europe. There was still plenty more of the world that I wanted to see.

  I had been seen as a hero several times, most importantly preventing a gunman from shooting Queen Elizabeth. I had also caught bank robbers and cattle rustlers. Besides that I had pulled people out of wrecked cars and burning buildings. To top it off I had landed a jet plane to save us all.

  There was the fun and adventure of making movies and singing professionally. That singing still left me wondering what was wrong with people’s e
ars. I had made a lot of money and gained satisfaction from inventing the hairdryer, and cargo containers for land, sea, and air.

  With those inventions came production facilities and the people to run them. The last I had heard Jackson Industries employed over ten thousand people. That made me one of the largest employers in the country. Not GM or US Steel but growing.

  Then there were the darker moments. I had shot a bank robber in Colorado; accidently killed a pervert in California. I tried to forget those Russians and what we did to them when they kidnapped Mary, I could try but I never would.

  Then there were the people I had met, from Presidents to Queens to CIA and KGB agents. Well, I hadn’t been introduced to the KGB, but they certainly knew of me.

  Then there was the little matter of World War III being averted.

  I know every teenage boy wanted a love life, but mine had a dismal record. I forget how many girls I had dated, only to be dumped. Hope springs eternal. I guess that is how the human race continues.

  Finishing High School at sixteen two years early and obtaining my multi-engine pilots license, pale when compared to the other events.

  I wondered what the coming year would be like.

  I wasn’t normally this introspective, but with the end of the year and new chapters opening in my life it was a good time to review what had happened.

  All this serious thinking had me sitting in the basement ignoring the world around me. Big mistake! I went to stand up and fell backwards into the sofa, thank goodness for a soft landing. I knew who the culprits were from the giggling.

  Mary and Eddie had wrapped the string from the tin can telephone around and around my legs. By the time I was unwrapped they were long gone.

  I went searching for them with tickle till they pee in mind. Lucky for them there was an upside down pineapple cake left unattended in the kitchen. A huge slice and a large glass of milk kept my strength up for the revenge I would take.

  Someone had left the TV on and the New Year’s shows were starting so I sat down to watch Guy Lombardo welcome in the New Year. I must have fallen asleep somewhere along the way before the magic moment. I woke up to a test pattern of an Indian Chief and two kids leaning on me, both sound asleep.

  We had been covered with a blanket so I knew our parents were home. I didn’t hear Denny come in from his late day at the photography studio, but if he wasn’t home the parents would have woken me. Rather than disturb my sibs I went back to sleep.

  Chapter 58

  I was a little stiff and sore when I woke up, my work out later would take care of that. There were no kids next to me. They were getting cleaned up. The family was going to Pasadena to watch the Rose Parade. I was going to be in the parade.

  This was a promotion for my upcoming movie. I would march in buckskins with a group of Mountain Men. No one would listen to me when I tried to tell them it was the wrong time period.

  During the parade they had wanted me to run down the street and load, and then fire my rifle. The publicity people thought it was a shame that I couldn’t use a ball as that would be too dangerous.

  I pointed out that there would be many horses in the parade and it might cause a problem if I fired the rifle under any circumstances. They didn’t like it but had to back down. Lord Help us from those in the backroom that don’t have to face the consequences of their actions.

  Thankfully the parade went well. When we marched in front of the cameras and stopped in the box chalked on the ground, a reporter, a pretty young lady, came out and asked about the movie. I gave the normal reply of it is a good entertaining show for the whole family.

  “Rick, I understand that your role is a little darker than you normally do.”

  “You will have to buy a ticket to find out.”

  I said this with a grin, and waved my tomahawk in the air. She backed up at that. Hmm, she does have a nice head of hair.

  The people at home see the wonderful floats in all their gorgeous color. The audience along the way not only sees but smells the many flowers. Those walking the parade route have sore feet from the cement pavement and feel lucky if they don’t step in any manure.

  If asked again I wanted to ride a float or be the grand marshal like Vice President Nixon. When we were lining up for the parade being a good politician Mr. Nixon shook as many of our hands as he could. I just happened to be walking away when he came close to me. I had met him several times, and didn’t care for him.

  There was a bus to take us from the end of the parade back to our starting point. From there I headed home raccoon hat and all. The convertible top was down as usual, so I got my share of stares and laughter.

  At one traffic light I was asked by a pimple faced college kid if I wanted to race for pinks. I raised my tomahawk and said, “Race for hair.”

  He didn’t take me up on it.

  Returning home us guys watched the Washington Huskies defeat the Wisconsin Badgers, 44-8. Neither team meant much to us but we had to root for the Big 10.

  After that we goofed off for the rest of the day. We all saddled up and took a ride. We ended up at the old airbase and took a tour. It still looked dilapidated and run down. It was going to cost a ton of money but would be worth it.

  A quiet evening in front of the TV ended the day.

  Denny and Sam had the ad photos done up in several layouts. They met Mr. Larsen and me at the airport. They all looked good and bad to me. Good pictures, but they had me in them.

  Mr. Larsen was extremely happy with them. He had the written copy ready to go. We all reviewed it and agreed it was good stuff. He only talked about the school in the copy, mentioning me as a student once. The pictures would sell themselves. Attend Larsen’s school and the pretty girls would hang all over you.

  What they didn’t say; was the pretty girls had been paid to hang all over me.

  We had the T-Bird with the top down, it was cool but sunny. We were enjoying the ride with Cathy’s Clown on the radio. I was first in line at a traffic light. It turned green and I started out. We were almost out of the intersection when a car ran the light from the passenger side of the car.

  It hit us in the rear end spinning us around in the road; the car was now still in the same lane, but facing the way we had come. Both of us were jerked from side to side. Luckily the windows were down or we would have both cracked our heads.

  I was stunned for a moment. As I turned to see what had hit us, two guys were getting out of the other car. They both started to run from the scene in opposite directions from each other. One of them was running directly at our car intending to run past us.

  I opened my car door just in time for him to run full tilt into it. That knocked him down. He was a small, skinny guy with a greased down DA in jeans, and white tee-shirt. He started to get up so I helped him by taking hold of his arm.

  I noticed he had tattoos on his knuckles. They were homemade and spelled out Love on his right hand, and Hate on the left. The package of Lucky Strikes rolled up in the sleeve of his tee-shirt completed the picture. He belonged on a movie set.

  This went down in seconds, at the same time I was ‘helping’ him up by holding onto him the police showed up. I mean they showed up. The four way intersection had two police cars come from each direction.

  The one runner that had gone in the other direction had got away, that is unless his buddy gave him up. The police didn’t take long to sort it out. They had the guy up against a squad car and in handcuffs quickly. It turns out the black Lincoln Continental that had T-boned us was stolen.

  They had jumped a parking valet for the car. Fortunately, a police car was passing by and the valet flagged them down. From there it went as the old saying says, “You can outrun the Police, you can’t outrun Motorola.”

  The T-Bird was wrecked up badly. The rear axle among other things was broken, so another one bites the dust. After assuring the Police we were okay Denny and I used the payphone on the corner to call a taxi. It would cost a small fortune but would get us home
quicker.

  The Police told me they would have the T-Bird hauled to an impound lot to get it off the road. So now I had no car and was leaving the country for an unknown period of time, Should I buy a new one? Hmm, maybe I would end up with a Ferrari.

  Needless to say when the cab dropped us off at the guard house there were plenty of questions. Mum and Dad were waiting for us to see how we were. This was a puzzle of how they knew already. It appeared that a reporter listened to the police radio and called Jackson House.

  One of them called the house to see how my parents felt about the whole thing. I didn’t predict a bright future for the person asking such a boneheaded question.

  When convinced that we were okay Denny and I went our ways, his to work on his pictures, mine to read the afternoon away.

  Sunday was spent reviewing my wardrobe for England. I would be calling Mr. Norman for advice tomorrow, but wanted to be ready to go. I would ship most of my clothes by air freight. I don’t know where things had changed.

  It had started out that I was going to fly to England for several days and sit for examinations. Then it expanded to time to take prep classes for the exam. Now it seemed to be an indefinite trip.

  I was staying at the Plaza on The Strand for the first week, but if it was going to be a while I would hunt for a flat. I looked forward to the coming year.

  The Richard Jackson Saga will contiue in Book 8.

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