The Enigmatic Mr. Dawsley

by Michael Bergquist

  Chapter 18

  “Today we find love!” declared Dawsley as he entered the dining room with a spring in his step. I put the day’s newspaper down and looked at him questioningly.

  “Just like that?” I said.

  “How else?”

  “You make it sound like we’re going shopping for cars.”

  “Not at all! I am simply confident, dear Truman!”

  “Perhaps a tad overly confident.”

  “Is there any other way to be?”

  He was in exceptionally optimistic and high spirits, completely contrasting the Mr. Dawsley that had occupied the piano room the previous night. As usual, I did not question the contradictions that arose in the man and simply accepted his moods for what they were whenever they occurred. It proved slightly taxing, but it seemed like the correct thing to do.

  We ate bagels with lox for breakfast and drank chai tea that Sandra had prepared. If one person had a mostly consistent mood, it was Sandra, who poured the tea, slapped Dawsley’s hand when he reached for his cup across the table, handed him his cup moments later, and shuffled out of the room.

  “Pardon me, Truman. I forget my manners from time to time.” said Dawsley.

  “That’s quite all right.” I responded. “By the way, when you said we are to find love today, did you have a location in mind for this search of sorts?”

  Dawsley smiled and sipped his tea before responding.

  “I believe the dance club is in order. ‘The Compass Rose’ I think it’s called. Something related to maps. I honestly am becoming quite tired of such names.”

  “Are you sure? I told you that you will more than likely not find what you are looking for in one of those clubs.”

  “We must try anyhow.”

  “Fine, but the clubs do not usually open until the late evening.”

  Dawsley frowned at this and began thinking silently.

  “Well, we have an open day before us it seems.” he said finally.

  “It appears that way.”

  “What shall we do?”

  “Perhaps a stroll through the park?”

  “A splendid idea!”

  We finished our breakfast and tea and left the room, entering the limousine, which had become our standard car since the incident with the police some months before. Dawsley had been forced to pay a hefty fine at that time and it was decided that he should not drive any more and his license was revoked. He did not protest this and his father was not informed, so his ban from driving remained in effect. When we were seated inside, the car took off toward the park, the driver silent as ever.

  Chapter 19

  The day was quite lovely, both warm and sunny. The sky was a cloudless light blue, occasionally dotted with birds flying in the distance. The park smelled of lilacs again, which delighted me. As we walked, we watched families having picnics and dogs retrieving thrown items to their owners.

  Along the path we came to a woman taping a flyer to an iron lamp post. She was struggling to hold the flyers while taping one of them and they began to fall. I rushed over to catch them, but they escaped her grip and flew in all directions before I reached her. I picked up as many as I could and handed them to the woman.

  She took them and thanked me, though many of them were still floating around the park and tumbling through the grass, only moving if someone tried to pick them up as dropped papers tend to do.

  “This is the worst job ever.” she said.

  “Try politics.” I replied. She laughed and took one of the flyers from the pile, handing it to me.

  “This group I know is having a mixer tonight. The two of you seem friendly and normal, so you should come. It’ll probably be really terrible, but don’t let that stop you.”

  “How could it?” I said as I chuckled. She laughed again and looked at me smiling. She had gorgeous, bright eyes of green. Her hair was dirty blonde and held up with a white headband, exposing her beautiful face. I felt as if we were looking at each other for an eternity. Time had stopped and for the first time in my life, I felt my soul as if it were some sort of creature trying to wriggle its way out of me. We continued staring as the world around us disappeared into nothingness. Then, Mr. Dawsley interrupted and shattered the moment. I suppose it was only fair, though, seeing as I had done the same to him when he saw Ellie for the first time.

  “We will be there.” he said to the woman.

  “Great!” she exclaimed. “By the way, I’m Kate Maloney.”

  “I am Mr. Dawsley and this is my friend, Thurgood Truman.”

  “Nice to meet you!”

  “Likewise.” I said.

  “Well, hopefully I’ll see you two tonight at the mixer. All of the information you need is on the flyer. Bye!”

  We both said goodbye to her and she walked away, taping flyers to lamp posts as she went. I watched her and from time to time she caught me looking, but only smiled and went back to her task.

  “Truman, you dog!” said Dawsley with a grin. “What did I tell you? Today is the day for love!”

  “I would hardly call it love.” I replied defensively.

  “I can see it in your face, dear Truman. You have fallen in love with that young woman.”

  “I just met her! It is not possible for me to be in love with her.”

  “Of course it is!”

  “No it is not! I only know her name and that she enjoys mixers. Actually, I don’t even know if she enjoys mixers, I only know that she attends them!”

  “You are making a scene, Truman. Do not let your love control your tone, we are in public.”

  “Oh, be quiet.”

  I walked away annoyed while Dawsley chuckled heartily behind me. He soon made his way over to me and kept my pace as we walked.

  “What will you wear?” he asked.

  “Probably what I have on currently.” I replied.

  “No, no, that will not do.”

  “It will do just fine. What are you going to wear?”

  “I will not be attending.”

  “What? Why?”

  “This is your moment, Truman. Besides, I have much to ponder about and must take some time tonight to do so. We will attend the dance club together some other time, as well.”

  “You can’t ponder after the mixer?”

  “I’m afraid not. You will be fine on your own.”

  “I am not worried about that.”

  “Good! Then we are all settled.” he said as he began to whistle and walk ahead of me down the path.

  Chapter 20

  That night, I dressed in clothing borrowed from Mr. Dawsley at his request. I had been content with my appearance, but he insisted and at this point I knew how futile it was to argue with him as I have stated before. I will admit that I looked nicer than I had in my clothes from earlier in the day.

  In the dining room, I ate sparingly, as my stomach was all tied up in knots and had banished my appetite. Dawsley, on the other hand, ate enough for the two of us. When he finished, he stood up and wished me luck before leaving the room and ascending the stairs to his bedroom. Something peculiar was afoot, but I had no time to investigate, nor did I have the mental clarity to do so.

  The usual driver was waiting for me with the limousine outside in the driveway. From this, I deduced that Dawsley would be spending the night in the mansion, or jail if he did in fact decide to leave by car. The limousine took off and I sat close to the car’s bar, mixing myself a drink to ease my nerves.

  I did not understand why I was nervous. I had worked in politics and had thus met many strangers and been a part of large crowds which did not cause me any anxiety. Something was different this time. I thought about Kate and my stomach knotted up even more. I finished my drink and decided that that woman was more than likely the reason for my nerves acting up. She was, indeed, lovely, but said loveliness was taking a toll on me. However, by my second drink, I had begun to feel more confident and prepared for the event.

  We arrived late, which was the usual
with this driver. I did not complain, as Dawsley must have kept him around for some good reason. I thanked him and exited the car. The building was a hotel nearby the park that had rented out its grand ballroom to whatever organization was hosting the mixer. I was relieved to find that the clothes I wore were of the same level of quality as those of the other men and women in the room. Had I not listened to Dawsley, I would have looked like a fool. I wandered over to the bar and ordered a bourbon.

  “Make it two.” said a woman’s voice. I turned toward it and was greeted by Kate, who was wearing an orange dress, her hair let down this time. I smiled at her and she returned it.

  “Hello, nice to see you.” I said to her.

  “Nice to see you, too.” she replied.

  The waiter placed our drinks on the bar and I paid for them.

  “Ah, a gentleman are we?” she said.

  “But of course.” I replied, raising my glass.

  “To terrible mixers.” she said as she raised her glass.

  “To terrible mixers.” I repeated. We touched glasses and drained them. I ordered two more and paid for them as well.

  “So, Thurgood, where is your friend this evening?” she asked.

  “Couldn’t make it. He has work to do or something.” I replied.

  “Sounds like a lie.” she said laughing.

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Well, I guess I have you all to myself tonight. Shall we dance?”

  She backed away from the bar, extending her hands out to me. I grabbed them and she pulled me onto the dance floor. A slow song was playing, so we danced in that fashion.

  “What do you do for Mr. Dawsley?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure how to describe it.” I said. “I’m a sort of tour guide of society I suppose. Though, he is the one doing most of the guiding.”

  “Interesting. What does he need a guide for?”

  “Just to help him navigate Atlantia.”

  “You’re not from Atlantia, though.” she said. That comment raised a red flag for me.

  “How would you know that?” I asked.

  “Your accent.” she said. “I can tell you’re from one of the original fifty states.”

  “Yes, yes I am. Where are you from?”

  “Connecticut.”

  “I hear it’s nice there.”

  “It’s okay at best.”

  We danced in silence for the rest of the song and when it was finished she pulled me back over to the bar. Drinking more would have been a bad idea, but I had drank enough to substitute good ideas with bad ideas. Kate ordered two bourbons and we sat at the bar drinking.

  “So, you’re his assistant then?” she asked.

  “Who?” I replied.

  “Dawsley.”

  “Assistant? No. I guess I do assist from time to time, though. Maybe I am an assistant.”

  “How did you get the job?”

  “You sure ask a lot of questions about my work.”

  “I’m just curious. Honestly.”

  “Well, okay then. Ready for this? He picked me out of the phonebook!”

  “Wait, what?”

  “That’s right! Out of the phonebook!” I laughed. She looked confused and forced a chuckle.

  “That’s so odd.” she said.

  “If you knew the kind of things we’ve been involved in, you’d redefine the word ‘odd’”

  “What have you been involved in?”

  “Buy me a drink first.”

  I had, at this point, lost that gentlemanly charm that she had so admired. She bought me another bourbon, a double to be precise, and I began drinking it.

  “You were saying?” she said.

  “Well, we got arrested. We also won an election with Mr. Gainsburg. Do you remember Mr. Gainsburg?”

  “Very well. My birthday was a little ruined, but justice was served in the end.”

  “I sort of feel bad for the man, though.”

  “Tell me about the arrest.”

  “Reckless driving or something. Nothing serious.”

  She frowned and took a sip of her drink. She was drinking at a much slower pace than I.

  “The two of you were involved in the Gainsburg election?” she asked.

  “That’s right! Financial backing. Well, Dawsley handled that, I did other important things. He actually acquired the endorsement that saved the whole thing.” I replied.

  Kate moved in closer.

  “He did?” she said.

  “That’s right. Congressman Bell made a deal and endorsed our candidate.” I stated proudly.

  “What kind of deal?” she asked.

  The room began to spin and before I could answer, I fell off my stool and passed out. I woke up on the couch in the Dawsley estate’s piano room in a state of utter confusion some time later. My head was throbbing and the room was empty except for Mr. Dawsley, who was sitting in front of the fireplace.

  “What happened?” I asked slowly.

  “Ah! You’re up!” he replied. “Dear Truman, you must learn to hold your alcohol better.”

  He was chuckling quietly and looking at me. I sat up and ran my hands through my hair.

  “How did I get back here?” I asked.

  “The driver brought you in. Apparently you had stumbled outside in presumably a black-out period and laid down on a nearby bench. My driver found you when he returned at the end of the mixer with your head on Ms. Maloney’s lap. He took you into the car and she handed him the piece of paper over on the tray in the corner to give to you.”

  I walked slowly and dizzily over to the tray. On the paper was her phone number and the words: “Call me!”. I smiled and put the paper in my pocket. Mr. Winit was smiling.

  “Tell me, Truman, is there anything more special than a blossoming romance?”

  “Not this again.”

  He laughed and began tending the fire. After a few moments he stood up and wished me goodnight.

  “Wait,” I said, “what time is it?”

  “About one in the morning.” he replied.

  I laid on the couch and listened to the sound of his footsteps move toward his bedroom. They were followed by the sound of his closing door as usual. I began to realize the impact this house could have on the mind. Little things were constantly becoming routine. If I were Mr. Dawsley, I would have hired someone to accompany me as well.

  I remained on the couch, staring at the chandelier and thinking about the night. Kate had asked a lot of strange questions, but she struck me as just the type of person who is intrigued by minor details and not so much by the things other people would take interest in. It was a sort of innocent, lovely pedantic quality, a quality too rarely seen that I greatly admired. My thoughts shifted from her to Dawsley. How he had spent his night was unclear. I had a feeling he had not left the house at all. He had said he had things to think about, but had not been specific. After all this time, I still knew little about the inner workings of his mind.

  Sandra entered the room and turned the fireplace off with the remote.

  “Sandra!” I called out quietly. She looked around fearfully.

  “Who is there?!” she cried out.

  “It’s me! Thurgood!”

  “Oh! Mr. Truman! You scare me!”

  “I apologize, Sandra.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Resting. I have a question for you, though.”

  “What question?”

  “It’s about Mr. Dawsley. What did he do tonight?”

  “He stay home and play piano. Then he read and write letters.”

  “Letters?”

  “Yes, letters.”

  “Do you know who he was writing to?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Thank you, Sandra.”

  “Yes, okay.” she said. She shuffled out of the room and left me on the couch. I stood up slowly once more and made my way over to the bookcase along the wall. I began to search his books for any letters he may have written or recei
ved. I found one in the poetry book his ancestor had written from Ellie Bell, but it had been dated months ago around the time their original correspondence would have been occurring. Further searching turned up no evidence. I laid back down on the couch and rested my throbbing skull on a pillow. Sleep came swiftly once more and took me away from all of my suspicions, however unfounded they may have been, and from my regret-filled thoughts about the mixer that night.

  Chapter 21

  At breakfast the next morning, Dawsley was again in exceptionally high spirits. He whistled as he buttered a piece of toast and I glanced at him inquisitively from time to time as I sipped my coffee. He was focused on his task and oblivious to these looks and I wondered what I would say if he noticed and questioned them. If he was in fact writing to Ellie again, it could cause major, life-altering problems. He would be taking on an important politician, as well as his immensely wealthy and resourceful nemesis. I had often thought about what devastation such a conflict would bring about, as I have stated previously.

  “Truman,” said Dawsley, “tonight we will attend the Compass Rose.”

  “Okay.” I replied. He frowned and stared at me.

  “That’s it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was expecting some banter over the issue.”

  “You won’t find any conflict here.”

  “Well, that is good.”

  “Yes. By the way, how was your evening?”

  “Quite uneventful.” he replied without a hint of unease or suspicion.

  “Did you accomplish whatever it was you were looking to accomplish?”

  “I did, quite early in fact. I spent the remainder of the evening playing the piano.”

  “Might I ask what it was you needed to accomplish?”

  “You might, but you will most likely not receive an answer. I will, however, tell you that it was nothing of importance to you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pardon?”

  “I just want to make sure that whatever it is won’t have far-reaching consequences.”

  “Truman, you are out of your element. I think it best that we end this discussion. I have told you that it is of no importance to you. Therefore, you will remain unaffected.”

  I nodded silently. His words had not fully reassured me, but the subject was clearly one he was not willing to speak about. It made the matter, however, wholly more interesting.