Minor Nobility

Chapter Twenty Nine More or Less Wraps It All Up

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Thu, 01 Dec 2016 00:55:00 +0000

Saturday, June Eighteenth, late morning, Walli-Wo island time

Princess Lulu had been a bit of a pill at breakfast. She pretended she wasn’t even aware that Alex was at the table. Alex was mildly impressed by how convincing she was, since it was such a small table. Given a choice between getting the silent treatment, and having to fend off another enthusiastic, if one-sided, game of footsie with a randy princess, well, the silent treatment was just fine.

Meanwhile, breakfast in the storm shelter was every bit as tasty as breakfast in the great hall had been. It turned out that King Lemmy was also a mean fry cook.

King Lemmy didn’t seem to notice that Lulu was giving Alex the cold shoulder, and he chatted amicably with Alex and Bruce as they ate.

Afterwards, while Alex was walking back to his bedroom, he heard Lulu behind him.

She said softly, but sharply, “I can’t believe you locked me out of your bedroom last night.”

I wish I’d thought to start locking my bedroom door the first night I was here, Alex thought, but did not say. Instead, he said, “Sorry Lulu. Call me old-fashioned.”

She blew a raspberry at him, and stormed off to her own room. Apparently she was angry enough that she didn’t even want to pinch his butt.

Alex was completely OK with that. He and his unmolested butt went back to his bedroom, and hopped in the shower.

During breakfast, Bruce had mentioned that the storm would probably pass later in the morning. While Alex was in the shower, he wondered where he should start searching for King Lemmy’s great great grandfather, and suddenly the previous night’s dream came back to him in a rush. The statues, King Lemmy’s ancestors, had told Alex where to find King Lemmy’s missing great great grandfather.

After they’d told him everything they knew, Alex had asked, “Why didn’t you tell King Lemmy about this directly?”

“We will, if we have to,” the statue that seemed to be acting as spokesperson for the group said. “But the reason we hadn’t already told him was that we were all exhausted from fighting off the intruder. Just talking to you is tiring, and we don’t even have to do anything, physically that is, to communicate with you. Imagine how much effort it takes to smash out a door.”

“There’s a bunch of you, though. Why not chase down Harry yourselves?” Alex said.

“Because we were exhausted, like I just told you, and because we don’t have legs. You try hopping quickly after someone who is panicked and running away,” the statue said.

“Good point,” Alex said.

After that, his memory of the dream got hazy and weird. At least he knew where to find the missing statue now.

Well, unless it had all just been a strange dream. In which case, he could be going on a wild goose chase.

On one of his quarter hourly walks past the weather data center, he noticed that the winds seemed to have slowed down significantly. It looked like the rain was calming down too. Hopefully, that meant that the storm would actually be done soon, and he’d be able to get out of the luxury bunker he was stuck in at the moment.

He’d read all of the Reader’s Digest magazines he’d found, and was starting to wonder if he was going to have to decide between reading, “Island Heat” and “Wicked Summer Nights,” to pass the time. Both of them appeared to be set on tropical islands. Alex wondered if all of these romance novels were the property of Lulu, or if there had been another romance fan in the household. Or if they’d just kind of accumulated in the closet without ever actually having been purchased, the way cheap paperback books seem to do. Alex wondered briefly if paperbacks bred when they weren’t being observed.

It was definitely time to get out of the storm shelter.

Alex decided that perhaps the thing to do was to sit down and try meditating again. It would be a way to pass the time, at least. He found a comfy spot, closed his eyes, and started taking some deep breaths.

He promptly fell fast asleep again.

He woke up to Bruce saying, “Mr. Minor, the storm has passed. We can head back up to King Lemmy’s house now.”

Alex blinked a few times to clear the sleep out of his eyes, and saw that King Lemmy and Lulu were both present as well. King Lemmy seemed amused, and Lulu was still ignoring him.

“Great!” Alex said. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

Back upstairs in the main part of King Lemmy’s home, Lulu promptly vanished. Alex and Bruce walked through the house with King Lemmy, then outside, checking for storm damage. Things had definitely been blown around outside, but apart from some wet places around the as-yet unrepaired doors, everything appeared to be just fine.

Once King Lemmy was satisfied that all was essentially well with his home, Alex took him aside and said, “I had the strangest dream last night. I think I know where your great great grandfather is, and I think I know who took him. But it might have just been a dream, and I hate to waste your time because of my imagination.”

King Lemmy looked at Alex and said, “Tell me about your dream.”

Alex told him about talking with the statues, and their explanation about where his great great grandfather had wound up.

“This is very interesting,” King Lemmy said. “My ancestors do not speak often, and I am not aware of another time that they have spoken with someone outside of the family.”

“They seem to think I would make a good king,” Alex said.

King Lemmy laughed and said, “Of course they do. You will make a great king! But, who did they say was responsible?”

“I don’t want to tell you yet,” Alex said. “If it turns out it was only a dream, I don’t want to accuse an innocent person. I’ll tell you after we find your great great grandfather.”

King Lemmy gave Alex a knowing smile, and after a pause said, “Yes, you will make a great king. Go and find my great great grandfather. I must see to my people now that the storm has passed.”

Alex found Bruce again, and asked him to come with to search for the missing statue.

“How come?” Bruce said. “I kind of want to go check over the plane more than I want to go look for that statue, Mr. Minor.”

“Because,” Alex said, “The islanders are already pissed off at the outsiders. They’re not going to be happy seeing you getting the plane ready to leave. And also, the islanders are pissed off at the outsiders at the moment. That’s us. I’d like to have someone else along, just in case someone decides they need to express their anger by kicking my ass while I’m off by myself.”

“OK, I guess that makes sense,” Bruce said. “Let’s go find King Lemmy’s great great grandpa.”

Walli-Wo is not a large island. It only took Alex and Bruce a couple of minutes to get from King Lemmy’s home to the western coast of the island.

“OK, which tree is it?” Bruce said.

“I don’t know, we’re going to have to search a little,” Alex said.

It seemed, however, that the storm had actually done them a favor. The high winds had blown away a great many of the leaves and branches on the trees, and it only took a couple of minutes to spot a grey statue lodged in the crook of a nearby tree.

“Wow,” Alex said. “That ended up being way easier than I’d expected.”

“Hooray for that. I still need to check over the plane, you know,” Bruce said.

“I know, I know. Help me get this out of the tree and back to King Lemmy’s house,” Alex said.

Getting back to King Lemmy’s home took significantly longer than getting to the beach had, since they were lugging a heavy statue this time.

“How did this thing wind up in that tree, anyway?” Bruce said, mainly to himself.

“It’s a long, weird story,” Alex said.

“Never mind then, I don’t care that much,” Bruce said.

“You’re in some mood today,” Alex said.

The two of them brought the statue into King Lemmy’s house. Thankfully, the front door wasn’t there, so they didn’t have to contend with getting it open. Once again, they received a hero’s welcome, although it was on a much smaller scale than their previous arrival.

King Lemmy glanced up as the two of them, carrying the statue, entered the great room he was sitting in and his face broke into an enormous smile.

“You have returned my great great grandfather to me a second time! I can not thank you enough!” King Lemmy said.

Alex and Bruce set down the statue right there, and were promptly crushed in an enormous bear hug from King Lemmy.

Harry walked into the room then. He appeared calm as always, but his demeanor changed, almost imperceptibly, when he saw the statue next to Alex, Bruce and King Lemmy.

“Now, Alex, you must tell me who was responsible for this,” King Lemmy said.

Alex suddenly felt like he was being a snitch, but he also felt like he couldn’t let King Lemmy remain ignorant. Also, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that all of his information had come from a dream, and might be just a little inaccurate. He’d lucked into more than one recovery before, the dream could just be a coincidence.

“Well,” Alex said, “At least in my dream, Harry was the one responsible. Apparently, he overheard you telling me you want me to be king and wanted to stop that from happening.”

King Lemmy’s expression darkened, and he turned to Harry. Quaking with anger, he said, “Is this true?”

Harry’s expression went from shock to guilt almost instantly. He opened his mouth to speak, but ultimately remained silent and simply nodded.

“Why would you do this?” King Lemmy said.

After a moment’s silence, Alex said, “According to my dream, he wants to be president of the bank.”

Both King Lemmy and Harry looked at Alex in shock.

“But that is the job of the king!” King Lemmy said.

Harry looked like he’d really rather be elsewhere.

“Harry, your betrayal of my trust has wounded me deeply,” King Lemmy said. “But apart from the damage to my home, everything else seems to be unharmed and back to normal. Therefore, as punishment, you are receiving a demotion.”

“Huh?” said Alex, Bruce and Harry.

King Lemmy continued, “You will no longer be my butler and valet, but shall instead be responsible for answering level one customer service calls at the bank.”

Harry turned ghostly pale.

“Oof, that’s harsh,” Alex said.

“Now, get out of my home and report for duty at the bank. There’s a script you’re going to need to start studying,” King Lemmy said to Harry.

King Lemmy turned back to Alex and Bruce. He was quiet for a moment, and then said, “Alex, Harry’s betrayal has given me pause. Although you are indeed a great hero to Walli-Wo, perhaps choosing the next king of Walli-Wo is not up to me after all. And what’s more, I feel that being a man of action such as you are, the monotony of ruling a small island might cause you great unhappiness.”

“Really?” Alex said. Wow, getting out of being king ended up being easier than expected, too, he thought.

“Makes sense to me. It seems like the princess doesn’t like him all that much anyway,” Bruce said.

Later, Alex and Bruce went to check over the Cessna. Miraculously, it had survived the storm just fine, although it had been in a bamboo hangar before the storm and now, well, it wasn’t.

Somewhere in the distance, they heard the sailors making their way back to their boats.

“I’m going to tell everyone I know to stay away from Walli-Wo!” Tammy said, loudly. “This place in the pits!”

I bet everyone on the island just gave a huge sigh of relief, Alex thought.

After Alex and Bruce had landed back in San Diego, they went their separate ways. Alex took a commercial flight back to Minneapolis the following day, and reveled in the comfort of a plush seat and easy access to a flushing toilet, as well as the brevity of the flight.

He got back to the office of Darcy Custom Brokers just before midnight. Megan had already gone home, and Mr. Darcy greeted Alex himself. He led Alex back into his office, and took a seat behind his desk.

“Well, Mr. Minor, King Lemmy told me he was very grateful for your help, and that you went above and beyond the call of duty. He also told me that you are his great friend,” Mr. Darcy said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Alex said.

Mr. Darcy took a thick envelope out of his desk and handed it to Alex.

“Your payment for services rendered,” Mr. Darcy said. “Now then, how soon will you be ready for your next assignment?”

The End!

Final official word count for 2016: 52,884

Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter Twenty Eight is Outta Sight!

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Wed, 30 Nov 2016 02:34:00 +0000

Friday, June Seventeenth, a little after dinner, Walli-Wo island time

In King Lemmy’s storm shelter, it was impossible to tell that there was a storm raging outside. It was quiet and comfortable. The only clue to what was still going on outside was a weather data display near the main entrance to the storm shelter.

Alex had found it earlier in the afternoon while playing a spirited game of hide and grab-ass with Lulu. Since then, he’d found himself compelled to go and check on the state of the weather fairly frequently.

He had a few reasons for wanting the storm to end. One was that he was currently in a bunker with King Lemmy’s daughter, who had wicked plans that Alex would probably have found completely delightful except for the whole “King Lemmy’s daughter” part. Another reason was that he wanted to get back to work on finding the statue King Lemmy called his great great grandfather. The final big reason was because he was stuck inside with precious little to do and he was already getting extremely bored.

At the moment, the wind was gusting up to seventy miles and hour, and the precipitation gauge was climbing at what seemed like an incredible rate to Alex. On the upside, it was a comfortable seventy degrees outside at the moment. High humidity, though.

He wandered back to the bedroom he would be sharing with Bruce.

Bruce was laying on his bed, reading a Harlequin romance called “Hot Island Summer.” The cover had a shirtless man wearing a cowboy hat, blue jeans, and a lei, passionately clutching a long haired woman whose hair was blowing in the wind.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of romance novels,” Alex said.

Bruce looked up at him, and said, “It was this or a stack of Reader’s Digest from ten years ago. It’s not terrible. Esmerelda seems like a hot little number, too.”

“OK, well, desperate times and so on. How long do you think this storm is going to last?” Alex said.

“Getting a little itchy to be out of here, Mr. Minor?” Bruce said, with a grin.

“Yes,” Alex said.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re going to be in here overnight. Maybe longer. I’d suggest that you settle in and get comfortable. Being all antsy won’t make the storm pass any more quickly,” Bruce said. “There are a couple more of these novels hiding in the closet over there. “Pacific Heat” and “Palm Trees and Persephone” both seem pretty promising.”

“Wasn’t Persephone Greek? Why would she be anywhere near Palm Trees?” Alex said.

“Sounds like someone needs to press their ‘I Believe’ button a little harder,” Bruce said. “Anyway, the setting won’t matter much once Lance or Rod or Studs McMuffin shows up and makes with the bodice-ripping.”

After a pause, Alex said, “I’m getting to know a whole new side of you, Bruce.”

“I’m a pilot of small airplanes. I spend a lot of time waiting for crappy weather to pass. After the third day of sitting in the pilot’s lounge at some airport in the middle of nowhere, the worst book ever written can seem like one of the great classics,” Bruce said. “Also, seriously, the sex scenes in these books are every bit as nasty as any of the Forum letters, and way better written.”

“If you were wondering what that bump was,” Alex said, “It was you running over the line dividing ‘things I want to know about Bruce’ and ‘Bruce’s taste in erotic fiction’ without even slowing down. Please stop.”

“Whatever. Be bored,” Bruce said. “It just leaves more for me to read while we’re down here, Mr. Minor.”

“You know, I could swear that you were just telling me about your naughty reading habits, and now you’re calling me Mr. Minor? Is there some guide to appropriate behavior that I have apparently missed?” Alex said.

Bruce didn’t answer, he just turned the page and continued reading.

Alex sighed, and went to look at the weather display again. The weather was about the same as it had been the last time he’d looked. The rain accumulation had increased, otherwise the wind, temperature and humidity were all about the same as they had been. He didn’t know much about what barometric pressure had to do with the weather, but the readout indicated that it was dropping.

He wandered around the shelter a bit, pacing more than anything. King Lemmy seemed to have retired for the night. He heard Lulu somewhere in the shelter, occasionally giggling, but she hadn’t popped out to flirt with him, and it seemed like her voice kept coming from the same general area. Alex wondered if she was in her own room reading romance novels as well.

That seems like a perfectly good thing for her to be doing, at least as long as it doesn’t get her all riled up and inspired to come hop into my bed again, Alex thought.

He found the stack of vintage Reader’s Digest magazines that Bruce had mentioned, and took a handful of them back to the room he was sharing with Bruce.

Bruce was still exactly where he had been earlier. Alex propped himself up on his own bed with a stack of pillows, and settled in for some word power expanding and important learning about what secret ingredient in Wheaties was corrupting our youth.

Some time later, Alex heard Bruce snoring. He glanced at his own watch and figured that it was as good of a time as any to just go to bed.

Alex walked over to the door, shut it and locked it, then climbed into bed and turned off the lights (he liked the remote control for the lights). Minutes later, he was drifting off to sleep.

He realized he was falling asleep when his thoughts were no longer entirely coherent. He was pretty sure that in the real world, the King of Norway had very little to do with the price of Kiwi fruit. His thoughts became less and less rational, and before long he was dreaming.

His dream was strange because, for one thing, he was completely aware that he was dreaming.

Another thing that was strange was that he was sitting cross-legged on the ground in King Lemmy’s courtyard. And one more strange thing was that one of the assorted statues that King Lemmy claimed contained the spirits of his ancestors, asked him if he was comfortable.

The storm was still raging, and the wind and rain were whipping around the courtyard, blowing the plants around and stirring up dust and sticks and things.

Despite that, Alex realized that he was, in fact completely comfortable. Probably the most comfortable he’d been in quite a while, really.

“Yes, I am, thank you,” Alex said.

“You are the one King Lemmy has chosen to marry his daughter, and become the next King of Walli-Wo?” the same statue asked. Alex was pretty sure it was one of the well-worn statues close to the center of the group.

“Well, yes, I guess I am,” Alex said. “I don’t think I’m the right man for the job, though.”

“Hmm. Your humility suggests that you are exactly the right man for the job,” the statue said.

Alex was surprised to hear a murmur of agreement from the other statues.

This is pretty wild, Alex thought.

“We do not understand what you mean by wild,” the statue said.

“Um, sorry. I, uh, I’m just surprised to be talking to you. All of you,” Alex said.

There was silence from the statues.

“Anyway, the reason I don’t think I would be the right person to be King is that I don’t think I could stay on Walli-Wo for the rest of my life. Please don’t get me wrong, Walli-Wo is fantastic. I just have a very short attention span. I would probably cause all kinds of unintentional chaos, just because I needed the excitement.”

“And once again, your knowledge of your own weaknesses suggest that you would make an excellent king,” the statue said. There were more sounds of approval and agreement.

“Um,” Alex said. “Thank you.”

“All the same, the choice to stay is ultimately yours to make. Although we agree with King Lemmy’s choice, we also know that you must do what you feel is right,” the statue said.

Another one of the statues cleared its throat, or at least made a throat clearing noise, and said, “This is not why we called him here.”

There was a moment’s silence.

Alex said, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes,” the first statue said. “One of us has been taken from here, and we wish to help you bring him back to us.”

“Well, I want to bring him back too. Any idea where he is at the moment?” Alex said.

Alex wasn’t sure, but he thought that he heard one of them stifling laughter.

“Yes, he’s stuck in a tree on the west side of the island,” the statue said.

“Stuck in a tree?” Alex said.

“Yes.”

“How did he get into a tree?” Alex said.

“He was put there to hide him from you and King Lemmy. After fighting off the intruder who came into the house, he was too tired to come back inside, and the intruder then kidnapped him,” the statue said.

“Whoa, so he was the one who blew out the doors?” Alex said.

“Of course,” the statue said.

“Cool,” Alex said. “OK, well, I’m happy to go get him out of the tree he’s caught in. Do you know who took him?”

“Yes,” the statue said. “It was the one called Harry.”

“Harry?” Alex said.

“Yes.”

“Why would Harry do that?” Alex said.

“Because he overheard King Lemmy when he told you that he wished for you to marry his daughter and become king,” one of the other statues said.

“OK, but why steal, uh, kidnap King Lemmy’s great great grandfather?” Alex said.

“So he could blame you for it and cause you to fall out of King Lemmy’s favor. Then he could lead King Lemmy right to his great great grandfather, and claim that he’d found him, and then become King himself,” the first statue said.

“Harry wants to be King?” Alex said.

“Harry wants to be the president of the bank,” the statue said.

Another one of the statues said, “And probably to get into Princess Lulu’s pants.”

“Oh, yes, that too,” the first statue said.

“OK, sure, why not?” Alex said to himself. “So the sailors had nothing to do with this?”

“No, they’re just a bunch of annoying assholes,” the statue said. "We can't stand them."

…Come back tomorrow for the thrilling conclusion!

Chapter Twenty Seven is Getting Very Near the End

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Tue, 29 Nov 2016 03:25:00 +0000

Friday, June Seventeenth, right around an hour before lunch, Walli-Wo island time

After breakfast, Alex and Bruce had accompanied King Lemmy on the search for King Lemmy’s great great grandfather. The three of them, along with the other islanders who were assisting with the search, found themselves in quite a hurry because the storm the sailors had been running from was due to hit Walli-Wo at some point that day. There were dark clouds on the horizon, getting closer and closer.

One of the questions Alex had for Bruce as they searched was, “How long until we can get off of this island?”

The answer was, “Once the storm has passed Walli-Wo, we should be clear to fly, as long as the storm doesn’t change direction. We’ll want to leave either very early in the morning, or very late at night.”

“Why’s that?” Alex had asked.

“Because that’s when the weather will be the most calm, and also, that timing will give us the best chance for getting back to the U.S.A. during daylight hours,” Bruce said.

Thinking about Princess Lulu’s appetites made Alex hope they would be able to leave at night, rather than wait until the following morning. And it would be just super if they could leave that night.

Alex, Bruce, and King Lemmy started their search over after breakfast, beginning in front of King Lemmy’s house. Alex hoped that some of the wreckage from the broken door, or the broken glass from the interior sliding door that had been shattered, would have been dragged away from the house. That would have at least given them a direction to start looking.

Unfortunately, they’d had no such luck. Alex had gotten down on the ground, looking for a trail where the statute had been dragged (like it had been through the broken glass), with no luck. It would seem that whoever had taken it had found the strength to carry the statue once they were outside. Or they’d done a really good job of covering their tracks.

Either way, they were low on ideas for where to start the search. Since they didn’t have any better ideas, they started the search by moving in concentric circles around King Lemmy’s house, expanding the circle a little bit each time.

The three of them were walking side by side along the Walli-Wo coast, searching for the statue, when the wind started to pick up. Alex and King Lemmy looked up from the ground at the same moment. The sky was quickly turning nearly black, and the clouds were very low.

“You know,” Alex said.

“I think,” Bruce said.

“It would be an excellent time for us to get to shelter,” King Lemmy said.

All three of them hurried back to King Lemmy’s house.

“Is your house really the best place to wait out the storm?” Alex said. “You’ve got a broken interior courtyard door, and a broken exterior door. It might be just a touch windy in there.”

“My home does have more than two doors, Alex,” King Lemmy said. “It also has a storm shelter. It’s very cozy and safe.”

Alex wasn’t exactly sure how to reply, so he just followed along quietly.

The wind started to really whip across the island, and the few people they saw still outside were all hurrying for shelter.

“Where are all the other islanders going to go for shelter?” Alex said. With the next gust of wind, he narrowly avoided catching a flying branch in the face.

“To their own storm shelters,” King Lemmy said. “Of course we would prefer to all shelter together in the great hall, but we also run an international bank. Should something unthinkable happen, it’s best if all of the key players are in different places. It would not be good if the majority of our economy was wiped out by a tree falling on the wrong building.”

“It’s good to have a contingency plan,” Alex said.

The sky opened, and huge, fat rain drops came pouring down on to them as they hustled towards King Lemmy’s house.

There was a brilliant flash of lightning, and thunder crashed almost immediately.

Cool! Alex thought.

They reached King Lemmy’s house and hurried inside. They were already soaked all the way through, but at least they’d be safe from the wind and anything that happened to start flying through the air.

King Lemmy led Alex and Bruce through his house. Alex had the weirdest feeling that he was being watched as they approached and passed the windows looking out on the courtyard. Of course, that was impossible. No one would be foolish enough to stay out in the storm, and what’s more, security had been beefed up around King Lemmy’s home since the doors had been smashed. Sneaking into the courtyard would be quite a feat.

In one of the interior rooms (Alex guessed it wasn’t used much. The furniture was showroom pristine, and it just felt kind of stuffy. It didn’t seem like a place where King Lemmy would willingly spend much time.), King Lemmy grabbed a table lamp, and pulled it firmly towards himself.

A trapdoor in the floor, covered by a rug, popped open. Through the door was a staircase leading down to, Alex assumed, King Lemmy’s storm shelter. King Lemmy gestured to Alex and Bruce to go ahead of him. He followed close behind the two of them, and pulled the trapdoor shut again behind himself.

At the bottom of the staircase, there was a well-lit, marble-lined hallway leading them further towards the interior of the house. Alex wondered what part of the house the storm shelter was under, exactly.

Alex would have guessed that a “storm shelter” would be something like a basement room with no windows and a good supply of beef jerky and maybe some blankets and candles. He was surprised when he walked through the door to the shelter itself.

King Lemmy’s storm shelter was more like a second home, underground. The room they were currently standing in was furnished every bit as nicely as the rest of King Lemmy’s house. There was art on the walls, and a plush carpet. There were also doors leading to what Alex guessed were other rooms in the shelter.

“Come in and get comfortable,” King Lemmy said. “We have everything we need down here to wait out the most powerful hurricanes. We could stay down here for a month, easily, if we needed to. Two months, less easily.”

“Less easily?” Alex said.

King Lemmy grimaced and said, “We would have to get into the freeze dried food, and Spam.”

“I thought folks out here on the pacific islands love Spam. I could have sworn I’d heard it’s like a comfort food,” Bruce said.

King Lemmy looked skeptical. “I do not think anyone, anywhere, ever, has been comforted by Spam. But, if you say it is so, then maybe there are such places. Come, let me show you where you’ll be spending the night. We should be able to get you into some dry clothes too.”

He led them through the room they were in, past a well-equipped kitchen, and into a large bedroom with two queen beds.

“I’m sorry I can not provide you with private quarters here in my shelter. My daughter will be in one of the other rooms, and of course she needs her privacy,” King Lemmy said.

Almost as soon as he’d mentioned her, Lulu came into the room. She made a quick kissy face at Alex while King Lemmy wasn’t looking, and winked again.

Uh oh, Alex thought. Well, at least I’ve got Bruce here to keep her on her best behavior while we’re all down here.

Lulu brushed past Alex and Bruce, and opened a door that was just behind them. It was a closet, and it looked as though it was full of sweatpants and sweatshirts.

She turned back and said, “These should be much more comfortable than the damp clothes you’re wearing right now.”

As she passed Alex again, she pinched his butt. He was shocked, but did his best to pretend that he hadn’t even noticed. He didn’t want to encourage her.

I hope the bedroom door has a lock, otherwise it’s going to be a long night, Alex thought.

“Say, has anyone seen Harry lately?” Alex said. “Where is he?”

“No, the last time I saw him was at breakfast,” King Lemmy said. “He is a smart man and will have taken shelter as well, however.”

“Does he have his own house?” Alex said.

“Of course,” King Lemmy said. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“I assumed he lived here with you,” Alex said.

King Lemmy laughed, and said, “Even Harry needs to take a break sometimes, Alex.”

“Anyway,” King Lemmy continued, “Please get into some dry, comfortable clothes, and make yourselves at home. We have everything you could possibly ask for down here, so if you need something, just ask.”

“Just ask,” Lulu echoed, and gave Alex another wink.

King Lemmy and Lulu left the room. Alex waited a moment, then walked over and shut the door behind them. He was completely thrilled to see that the door did, in fact, have a lock. That was probably going to save his hide.

“So, Bruce,” Alex said. “I’m going to need you to not leave my sight for the rest of the time we’re down here. Otherwise, I think Lulu is going to get me into a whole lot of trouble that I don’t want.”

“O.K.,” Bruce said. “It doesn’t seem like that’s going to be difficult for me to do, since we’re here in a storm shelter, but you’ve got it.”

“Thanks,” Alex said.

Bruce was about to ask Alex what kind of trouble he thought Lulu was going to cause, when there was a knock at the door.

Alex went back over to the door and opened it. He found himself nearly toe to toe with Lulu.

“I thought you might want this,” she said, and stuffed something soft into his hands, then kissed him full on the lips before he even knew she was going to. Then she giggled and walked away from the door again. She swayed her hips seductively for several steps, then looked back at Alex and winked again before she went into a different room and out of sight.

Alex shook his head, and then looked down to see what it was that Lulu had thought he might want.

He discovered he was holding a big bundle of pink fleece. She’d brought him the bunny suit.

Chapter Twenty Six Rocks All Night and Sleeps All Day

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Sun, 27 Nov 2016 04:35:00 +0000

Friday, June Seventeenth, fifty minutes or so before the breakfast feast, Walli-Wo island time

Alex had his hands full trying to keep Princess Frisky out of his pants, while making sure she didn’t feel like he was rejecting her. He had heard that scorned women can be, well, troublesome. And based on the exchange he’d just seen between Lulu and Gertrude, Alex suspected it was for the best to keep Lulu happy while he was still on Walli-Wo.

It was a tricky situation.

It was especially difficult because Lulu had a quick solution to every roadblock Alex tried to put between her and the fly of his pants.

For example, he’d said, “What would your father say if he found us together in here?”

Lulu said, “He would say that we would be much more comfortable in my room. Which, incidentally, we would be. Shall we wander that way for a bit?”

He also tried, “It’s so early, shouldn’t we get some more sleep?”

Lulu’s reply was, “We can catch up on sleep later.”

Alex was quickly running out of excuses. It didn’t help matters that he was doing his best to not have sex with a woman that he, in basically any other situation, would very much want to have sex with. Only half of his brain, at best, was willing to help him out with this particular dilemma. The other half had apparently decided that if Alex wanted to be that stupid, then he was on his own.

He was getting to the point where he was afraid he was going to have to be rude in order to get Lulu out of his bed when they heard the doorknob rattle again. It was significantly louder this time, as though someone was trying urgently to get in to the room. It was enough that Lulu rolled off of Alex with an irritated sigh, and covered herself up.

They heard Gertrude stage-whisper, “Princess Lulu, your father is coming!”

Alex wasn’t sure how his heart could drop into his feet when he was laying down (the physics of it made no sense), but all the same, that’s exactly where his heart went.

“Shit!” Lulu said. She slid the rest of the way off of Alex’s bed, grabbed her dress from where she had apparently left it on the floor, and ran naked to the side door where Gertrude was waiting. She turned, blew Alex a kiss and winked, and then left his room with Lulu. Gertrude closed the door behind them, and he heard the two of them hurrying away from his door. Alex had no idea where they would be able to go in order to avoid being spotted by King Lemmy if he was close to Alex’s bedroom.

Alex took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.

Thank god for small favors, he thought. I’ve never been happier to be interrupted.

He got out of bed, and tried to quickly tidy himself up a bit. He poured himself some coffee from the carafe that Gertrude had brought in earlier, and did his best to adopt a casual and relaxed demeanor as he waited for King Lemmy to arrive.

He waited for several anxious minutes and finally started to wonder where the heck King Lemmy was, exactly. He hoped that King Lemmy hadn’t spotted Lulu leaving Alex’s room, and gone off to assemble a mob, or something along those lines.

It occurred to him that it was going to be time for breakfast soon. Assuming that he wasn’t about to be lynched, he was going to need to actually look presentable. So, Alex set about getting himself cleaned up.

King Lemmy never did come to his room.

Gertrude, however, did come to his room. It was about ten minutes before the usual time for breakfast.

She saw that he was up, smiled, and said, “Good morning, Mr. Minor.”

“Good morning, Gertrude,” Alex said.

“Did you sleep well, Mr. Minor?” Gertrude said.

Alex wasn’t exactly sure what the right answer to that question was. She had, after all, walked in on him and a very naked princess not too long ago.

“Reasonably well, thank you,” Alex said.

There was a moment’s silence between them, and then Alex said, “Where did King Lemmy get to? I thought he was coming this way.”

Gertrude giggled, and said, “He wasn’t. I hope you will forgive me, but I was listening at the door, and I thought you might need an excuse.”

Alex laughed, quietly, and said, “Nicely done, Gertrude.”

“Thank you, Mr. Minor,” Gertrude said.

“So, where exactly did you and Lulu go?” Alex said.

“There is a secret tunnel between here and King Lemmy’s house. Princess Lulu also lives there, and also knows that tunnel. I brought her down to the tunnel, the back way,” Gertrude said.

“But wouldn’t King Lemmy have been coming that way?” Alex said.

“Of course not,” Gertrude said. “Secret tunnels don’t stay secret if you use them all the time.”

“Ah, of course,” Alex said.

Gertrude glanced at the window, and the brightening sky.

“It must be time for the morning feast,” she said. “I expect Harry will be along to escort you and Mr. Evans to the great hall shortly.”

With that, Gertrude turned and left Alex’s bedroom again. Mere moments later, there was a knock at the main door to his room. Alex opened it, and found Harry waiting for him.

“Good morning, Mr. Minor,” Harry said.

Bruce came out of his room, seconds later, looking a little worse for wear.

“Good morning, Mr. Evans,” Harry said.

“Morning,” Bruce said.

“Come with me, gentlemen,” Harry said.

Alex couldn’t put his finger on it, but Harry seemed a little more standoffish that he had previously.

Maybe he’s hungover too, Alex thought.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Alex said to Bruce as they followed Harry to the great hall.

“Pretty rough, I had a rude awakening this morning,” Bruce said. “I’m still shaking the water out of my ears.”

“Water?” Alex said.

“Yeah, someone threw a bucket of water on me while I was still asleep, then threw the bucket at me,” Bruce said.

“Ouch! Jeez, that’s not cool. Are you alright?” Alex said.

“Yeah. At least the bucket missed me. It just hit my nightstand and knocked over a lamp,” Bruce said.

“Are you a heavy sleeper, or something? That seems pretty extreme,” Alex said.

“Nope. Usually I wake up the second someone opens a door near me,” Bruce said.

“Oof,” Alex said.

They reached the great hall, and went inside. The first thing Alex noticed was that the great hall was unusually quiet. The second thing he noticed was that everyone was there already. The third thing that he noticed was that “everyone” didn’t include the sailors. He figured they were probably still asleep, and that was, frankly, a relief.

He and Bruce went to their previous seats near King Lemmy. Alex was more than a little surprised when one of the islanders hissed at them as they walked past.

“Weren’t these folks all super friendly the day before? Did we act up at the feast last night or something?” Alex said, quietly, to Bruce.

“They were, and no, I don’t think so, Mr. Minor. You had more to drink than me, and you were fine while you were still in the hall,” Bruce said.

“OK, that’s what I thought,” Alex said.

King Lemmy acknowledged Alex and Bruce, and gestured for everyone to eat. There was a slight increase in sound in the room, but there was no conversation to speak of. It was more than a little unsettling.

“Has anything new come to light about your great great grandfather, King Lemmy?” Alex said.

“No, Alex. We will begin the search anew this morning, after we’ve eaten,” King Lemmy said.

Alex happened to look across the table, and saw Lulu staring at him. She gave him a coy smile, and then a salacious wink. It was so quick that Alex had to convince himself that he really did see it. He smiled at her in return.

We need to get off this island before I end up neck deep in a heap of shit, Alex thought. He did his best to remain pleasant and casual, but the urge to grab Bruce and run for the Cessna was getting stronger by the minute.

“It seems very quiet in here this morning,” Alex said.

King Lemmy sighed, and said, “My people have come to believe that this trouble was brought about either by you or the sailors who also arrived shortly after you.”

“Oh,” Alex said. “Um. Is there anything we can do?”

“You are already doing it,” King Lemmy said. “I have told my people that you and Bruce could not be responsible, and they have taken my word. There is little I can say to convince them that the sailors are also innocent. And, of course, how can I know? I have been spending my time largely with you, and Bruce.”

“Thank you, King Lemmy,” Alex said. He thought for a moment, and then said, “Where are the sailors, by the way? They don’t seem to be here this morning.”

King Lemmy looked troubled, and said, “I visited them this morning, and asked to board their boats to see if my great great grandfather was in one of them. They were not cooperative. I then asked them if I could look in their quarters to see if he was in there, but again, they would not cooperate.”

Alex started to get a bad feeling in his gut, but he remained silent.

King Lemmy continued, “I told them that I did not think they had done anything wrong, but that my people were convinced they were responsible, and that for their own safety they should remain in their quarters until my great great grandfather is found, or until the weather has changed and they can safely sail immediately.”

“You don’t think they had anything to do with it?” Alex said.

“No,” King Lemmy said.

“I hope you understand that I don’t doubt you,” Alex said. He continued, “But how do you know?”

King Lemmy looked levelly at Alex.

“I know, Alex, because my great great great grandfather told me that the horrible loud visitors were not the ones who did it,” King Lemmy said.

Alex smiled and said, “The horrible loud visitors?”

King Lemmy smiled, ever so slightly, and said, “My great great great grandfather does not care much for the sailors.”

Chapter Twenty Five Just Makes Sense

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Sat, 26 Nov 2016 03:44:00 +0000

Friday, June Seventeenth, a couple of hours before the breakfast feast, Walli-Wo island time

After King Lemmy and Alex had satisfied themselves that King Lemmy’s great great grandfather, or at least the stone statue which his spirit was currently calling home, was no longer in King Lemmy’s house, they’d decided to see if they could track him down. After several fruitless hours, the two of them had agreed that it was too dark outside to see clearly, and that they would resume the search the following morning.

Alex had found his way back to his room, and collapsed into bed, still wearing his dress blues. He had, at least, managed to kick off his bunny slippers. He wondered, just before he fell asleep, how or why he’d been able to think so clearly right after King Lemmy had announced that his great great grandfather had been kidnapped. After all, he’d been pretty tanked.

And what’s more, it seemed like the drunkenness was making up for lost time now. The room seemed to spin a bit, and then he slept.

He woke up several hours later feeling… strangely cuddly. In his grogginess, he couldn’t quite figure out why that was, and just enjoyed the feeling for a couple of minutes. Slowly, he gained a bit more consciousness, and put together a piece of information here and a piece of information there.

It seemed like the sun was rising. It was at least starting to get light outside. Alex realized his bedroom window must face East. He remembered he was on a little island called Walli-Wo.

And, he realized very suddenly, there was a naked woman asleep in bed with him. She was cuddled up tightly against him with her head on his chest.

Oh shit, Alex thought. Who is this, and how did she get in here? Did I black out and bring someone back here?

As discretely as he could manage, Alex touched his stomach, and then his leg. He was still wearing his dress blues. Just in case, he checked his fly as well. All was in order there.

“What the hell?” Alex said, then realized that he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Oops…

The woman sleeping on him stirred slightly, and sighed, then sat up next to him.

Alex quickly became aware of two things. First, she was staggeringly beautiful. And second, she was, without a doubt, King Lemmy’s daughter.

A third fact popped into Alex’s head. Somehow, he still didn’t actually know her name. He tried and tried to remember if King Lemmy had mentioned it, but he forgot what it was he was trying to remember when she lifted both arms over her head and stretched, arching her back slightly.

She looked down at him, and smiled.

“Hi,” Alex said.

“Good morning, Alex,” she said.

“How did you get in here?” Alex said.

“Through the door,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Well, no… I mean, I don’t mind, but did I bring you back here last night?” Alex said.

“No, I just got a bit chilly and thought I’d come in here with you rather than stay in my own room,” she said.

Alex had no idea how to reply to that. The best he could come up with was a bewildered, “Is your room in this house too?”

“Of course not, silly bunny man,” she said.

“Right, of course not,” Alex said. He finally realized there was no way for him to gracefully continue this conversation.

“So,” Alex said. “Um, please forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve been introduced previously.”

She gave him a devilish smile, and said, “I know. I avoided father while he was introducing you to everyone else on the island.”

Well, that explains it, Alex thought. He wasn’t sure if he would have managed to remember her name after more than one hundred other introductions, anyway.

She continued, “I assumed you wouldn’t be able to remember my name if I was just one more introduction after every other person on Walli-Wo. I thought it might be easier for you to recall my name if I introduced myself this way.”

She’s got a point, Alex thought.

“OK, well, hi,” Alex said. “I’m Alex Minor. You can call me Alex.”

“I know, and I already did,” she said. “And my name is Princess Carol Anne Maria Felicia Autumn Lemmy.”

“I’m glad to meet you, Princess Carol Anne, uh…” Alex said.

Princess Carol Anne Maria Felicia Autumn Lemmy winked at him, and said, “You can just call me Lulu. Everyone does.”

“OK, it’s nice to meet you Princess Lulu,” Alex said.

She giggled and Alex wondered once again if marrying her and becoming the king to her queen would be all that bad.

“Just Lulu,” she said. “I’m naked in your bed, I don’t think we need to stand on formalities.”

Alex had no idea how to reply and said, “Um, no, I suppose not.”

“Can we make love now?” Lulu said.

“What?” Alex said.

“Father has already told me he blesses our future wedding. And I’m feeling kind of eager, get out of this silly uniform” Lulu said.

“Whoa, whoa,” Alex said. “Sorry, I need a second.”

“Oh, do you want to keep your uniform on while we make love? I don’t mind,” Lulu said, and smiled.

“No, that’s not it. I don’t think you understand,” Alex said.

Lulu raised an eyebrow, and said, “Oh. Oh, I see. Do you want to wear the bunny suit? I’m OK with that too. I like to play.”

“This is just not coming out right,” Alex said to himself.

“No? Ooooh, you want me to wear the bunny suit. OK, I like that too…” Lulu said.

Alex just stared at her for a second. She was already starting to get out of bed, presumably to put the bunny suit on.

“No, wait please, uh, Lulu,” Alex said.

She turned back to him. He was really having a hard time coming up with whatever it was he wanted to say.

“You see, the thing is, um,” Alex said.

Lulu looked puzzled for a moment, and then her face cleared.

“Oh, of course, how silly of me to not understand,” Lulu said with complete confidence.

“Really?” Alex said, considerably less confident.

“You prefer to be more traditional and wait until the wedding,” Lulu said.

“Um,” Alex said.

“It’s OK. The anticipation will make the wait fun for both of us. And after we get married, we can unleash our passion and have our way with each other,” Lulu said. She had gestured wildly as she said “unleash” and “passion” and it took a second for Alex to get his breath back.

“I’m not sure you,” Alex started to say, but was interrupted.

“Oh yes, I understand completely. Such a romantic you are,” Lulu said. She winked at him.

She curled back up under the covers with him.

How are things going so horribly right for me? Alex wondered.

“You must still be sleepy,” Lulu said. “You had a lot to drink, and a long night last night.”

“Mm, yes,” Alex said. “Say, what do you call those drinks we had last night, by the way?”

“Drinks you had. I stuck with fruit juice,” Lulu said. “Anyway, they are a very traditional drink here on Walli-Wo. The short name for them is Ki. I don’t think you’ll remember the long name. No one uses it, anyway.”

“Ki?” Alex said.

“Yes. In English, I think they’d be called Fruit Flavored Pain Killer,” Lulu said.

“Sounds about right,” Alex said.

Lulu giggled.

Just then, they heard a doorknob rattle slightly, and Gertrude crept into the room with a tray covered with fruit and glasses of juice. It also looked like she had a small pot of coffee or tea on the tray. She walked past the bed, glanced over at Alex and Lulu and took a couple more steps before she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the two of them.

Alex thought, oh shit. I’m going to get lynched for spoiling the king’s daughter. And I didn’t even spoil her.

“Uh,” Gertrude said.

Lulu didn’t waste a second.

Quickly, but sweetly, she said, “Gertrude, what did you see in Alex’s bedroom this morning?”

“Um. Nothing, Princess Lulu. Mr. Minor asleep in his bed. By himself,” Gertrude stammered.

“That’s right,” Lulu said. “And who do you need to tell that you saw Alex asleep, by himself, in his own bed, as anyone would expect him to be?”

“Um, No one. No one at all,” Gertrude said.

“And, Gertrude, what would happen if somehow the other islanders got the impression that Alex had not been alone in his bedroom this morning?” Princess Lulu said.

Gertrude looked nervous.

“Gertrude?” Lulu said.

“I don’t think I’d like that very much,” Gertrude said.

“I don’t think I’d like it very much either,” Lulu said. “So it’s a good thing for us that Alex was quietly asleep, and alone, when you came in this morning, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Princess Lulu,” Gertrude said.

“Thank you, Gertrude. Your discretion is one of your many excellent qualities, and why you’re one of my closest friends,” Lulu said.

“Thank you, Princess Lulu,” Gertrude said.

She set down the tray she’d brought in, and hurried out of the room again, closing the door quietly behind her.

“Whoa,” Alex said. He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d just seen, but he did know that now he felt kind of bad for Gertrude for walking in when she did.

“Silly girl,” Lulu said. “Don’t worry, I know she’s actually very discrete.”

“OK, cool,” Alex said. “So, what would happen to her if she mentioned you were in here with me, incidentally?”

Lulu smiled, and said, “She would have to work as the first level customer service rep on the phones for the bank, instead of doing the cushy job she has now.”

“Oof, that’s pretty rough,” Alex said.

“But not inhumane,” Lulu said.

Alex thought that was debatable but said nothing.

Lulu looked out the window at the brightening morning sky. She turned back to Alex, gave him a wicked grin, and said, “It looks like we still have at least an hour until it is time for the morning feast. Let’s fool around a little, honey bunny.”

Uh oh, Alex thought.

Chapter Twenty Four is Oh So Nice

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Fri, 25 Nov 2016 05:07:00 +0000

Thursday, June Sixteenth, just after the evening feast, which ended a little early, because everyone skipped dessert, Walli-Wo island time

Shortly after King Lemmy had announced that his great great grandfather had been kidnapped, he’d gotten up from the table and left the great hall. Alex and Harry followed after him as he hurried away.

“King Lemmy, please wait!” Alex said.

“I do not have time to wait, I must try to find my great great grandfather,” King Lemmy said.

“Well, he couldn’t have gone too far yet,” Alex said. “Wait for us!”

King Lemmy paused for a second, and said, “That is why I’m hurrying.”

“Well, hang on a second so we can help you,” Alex said.

That slowed King Lemmy down a moment longer, and Alex and Harry were able to catch up to him.

At the moment, they were about halfway between the great hall and King Lemmy’s home. King Lemmy looked around himself, scanning the area for anything that seemed out of place.

“What can we do to help?” Alex said. “Do you want us to come with you and help search? Should we split up? We’ll probably be able to cover more ground that way.”

King Lemmy looked at Alex and said, “You are a good friend. And, you are the expert at finding things that have been lost. What do you think we should do?”

Alex wasn’t sure he was really all that good at finding things that were lost. Really, he was more of an expert and going and getting things back from where they weren’t supposed to be. In other words, he was a repo man, not a detective. However, he wanted to help King Lemmy, so he paused for a minute and thought about what would be the best way to track down the statue. He was glad the island wasn’t bigger.

“Can we be sure that he’s still on the island?” Alex said. “I mean, if someone arrived or left, we’d know about it, wouldn’t we?”

“Yes, we have lookouts watching the perimeter of the island. They would have seen anyone arriving or leaving by sea. And you know we would have heard any aircraft that arrived or left,” King Lemmy said.

“Is there a way we can check in with the lookouts to see if they’ve noticed anything?” Alex said.

“Of course. They have walkie talkies,” King Lemmy said.

“Do you think we should ask them before we search the island? We can also warn them to keep an even closer watch,” Alex said.

“Yes, that is a good idea,” King Lemmy said. He turned to Harry, and said, “Please go check in with the watch, and tell them to be alert to anyone leaving Walli-Wo.”

Harry nodded, and walked off at a brisk pace.

“OK, Alex, now what do you think we should do?” King Lemmy said.

“Well, should we go look at your house and see if we can find anything out of place there? Would someone have to break in to your house to get to the courtyard?” Alex said.

“I do not typically keep my home locked,” King Lemmy said. “However, with all of the unknown visitors we have had today, I decided to lock the doors. Just in case they accidentally tried to explore my home again.”

“OK, maybe there will be something there that will give us an idea of what happened, and where we can look next” Alex said.

King Lemmy nodded and said, “Yes, let’s do that.”

When they arrived at the house, both of them were astonished to find King Lemmy’s front door laying on the ground about fifteen feet away from the house. One of the hinges was still attached to it. The door’s frame was splintered and blown out of the house as well.

“Whoa,” Alex said.

King Lemmy remained silent, looking back and forth from the door to the front of the house.

“Say, did your door open in to the house, or out?” Alex said.

“In,” King Lemmy said.

“Wow,” Alex said. “Was there an explosion inside?”

King Lemmy said nothing, and instead started walked towards the house again.

Alex followed behind. The two of them walked through the hole where the front door had been. Alex was honestly expecting to find more wreckage just inside the door, but apart from some dust and wood splinters from the door frame, everything seemed to be exactly the way it had been the last time he’d been in there.

“I guess that there wasn’t an explosion, then,” Alex said. “That’s good.”

As they went further inside, the rest of the house seemed basically undisturbed, apart from a lamp that had been knocked over. And then there was the broken glass from the sliding door that led out into the inner courtyard. Alex was more than a little puzzled by that mess.

For one thing, the glass had all fallen in to the house. Whatever had force had broken it had come from the courtyard side, pushing in on the glass. So, so far it sure seemed like someone had broken out of King Lemmy’s house, rather than breaking in.

For another thing, there was a trail, about a foot or so wide, where the broken glass had been pushed aside, right through the middle of the scattered glass on the floor.

Alex said, “Did someone drag your great great grandfather out of here?”

Simultaneously, King Lemmy said, “Did my great great grandfather walk out of there?”

Both of them then looked at each other and said “Wait, what?”

From behind them, Harry said, “The watch have not seen anyone leaving Walli-Wo tonight. They will be alert to anyone who does, and let us know right away.”

Alex started, and muttered, “Jesus, Harry.”

King Lemmy said, “Thank you Harry. What do you make of this mess?”

Harry looked down at the trail through the glass and then looked up at King Lemmy, wide – eyed.

“Do you think he walked through it?” Harry said.

Alex had certainly encountered a few weird things during the course of his career, but he was reasonably certain that the statue he’d brought back here was not able to walk on its own. However, he had just enough diplomatic sense to know that telling King Lemmy that statues can’t do that would be a mistake.

So instead, he said, “You don’t think he was just dragged off? I thought he’d been kidnapped.”

King Lemmy and Harry looked at each other, and then back at Alex. Harry’s expression was one that said “I can’t believe you can be that ignorant.” King Lemmy’s was more sympathetic.

“Alex,” King Lemmy said, “I must explain this to you. You see, when I said that my ancestors look over me and protect me, I meant that truly and literally. My ancestors live in the homes that were made for them, and they will act when needed.”

Alex wasn’t exactly sure what he could say to that. He thought it was a sweet concept, but he was also fairly certain that the statues were not, by any stretch of the imagination, sentient and capable of action. He also knew that he should probably keep that to himself.

Especially because it would be extremely embarrassing if he was proven wrong. He didn’t think he was, but then, he’d been surprised before…

“OK,” Alex said. “I’m confused though, how could your great great grandfather have ended up in the United States, if he didn’t want to go there?”

“He is still living in a heavy stone statue,” King Lemmy said. “Taking any kind of action requires a great deal of energy. He knew we would find him, so he waited and rested.”

“Did he try to resist?” Alex said.

“Of course,” King Lemmy said. “but again, like us, he only has so much energy before he’s exhausted. Whoever took him the first time just wore him down until he couldn’t fight back any longer.”

“OK, I guess that makes sense,” Alex said. Privately, he thought it was impossible. “How do you know all this?”

“He told me,” King Lemmy said.

“OK,” Alex said. There was no possible way to contradict that without calling King Lemmy crazy, so Alex changed course.

“Well, do you think your grandfather was kidnapped, or do you think he chased someone off and is somewhere on the island by himself, too tired to come back?” Alex said.

King Lemmy stood quietly for a moment, thinking. Then he said, “Wait here a moment.”

He went out into the courtyard. Alex and Harry watched him, but King Lemmy largely kept his back to them, so it was difficult to see what he was doing out there. Alex was able to hear King Lemmy asking questions, however, and pacing a bit. He seemed to be deep in thought.

After ten minutes or so, King Lemmy came back into the house.

“Harry,” King Lemmy said. “Please stay here and clean up this glass. Alex, come with me.”

Without another word, he led Alex back through the house, and out through the hole where the front door had been. He led Alex back towards the port of Walli-Wo. They reached a clearing, and stopped. From where they were, they had a commanding view of the majority of Walli-Wo. They were also, Alex recognized, in a place where they’d know it if they were being watched.

Quietly, King Lemmy said, “Alex, my great great grandfather was indeed kidnapped. He did his best to defend himself and the house, but he was caught by surprise and overpowered.”

“Whoa. That’s terrible!” Alex said. “How do you know that, though?”

“I know it, because my ancestors saw it happen, and they told me what they saw,” King Lemmy said.

“They didn’t try to stop it?” Alex said.

“Of course, why do you think the house was such a mess?” King Lemmy said.

“Oh, of course,” Alex said. He thought for a minute, and then said, “OK, what else can I do to help?”

King Lemmy put his hand on Alex’s shoulder, and said, “Alex, you are a good friend, and will one day be a great king.”

[Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!]

Chapter Twenty Three Is Good For You (And Good for Me)!

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Thu, 24 Nov 2016 04:32:00 +0000

Thursday, June Sixteenth, Thirty minutes or so before the evening feast, Walli-Wo island time

Alex was back in his room. At the moment, he was pacing around the room, trying to wrap his brain around the events of the day. How had he gone from falling out of a small airplane while wearing a bunny suit to having faced down a possible naval attack (which might have been preferable to what they got instead, three boats full of tacky assholes) to meeting all of King Lemmy’s ancestors, to having King Lemmy tell him that he ought to marry his daughter and eventually become King of Walli-Wo himself.

And it wasn’t even dinner time yet.

Speaking of, Alex was still full from the last four meals he’d eaten that day. He noticed the spread of snacks that had been left in his room for him had been refreshed at some point during the afternoon as well.

Alex knew himself well enough to realize that agreeing to stay on Walli-Wo would be pretty much the worst possible thing he could do. For one thing, he was pretty sure he was not made of king material. For another thing, he was certain he would make a terrible husband. And to top it all off, he was one hundred percent positive that spending the rest of his life on an island where he’d walked the entire island and met all of its inhabitants (entirely wonderful as they were) before lunch simply wouldn’t work. He’d be bored to the point of doing some really stupid things before the first week had passed.

The challenge was, of course, how to tell King Lemmy that he wasn’t going to be able to marry his daughter. He kind of suspected that King Lemmy wasn’t the sort to take no for an answer.

He and Bruce were going to need to be ready to split, as soon as possible.

Alex left his own room, and knocked on Bruce’s door.

Bruce opened the door. He was looking pretty green.

“Hey Bruce, are you feeling OK?” Alex said.

“Do you remember those commercials where there’d be a pile of dirty dishes and some sad sack sitting there, saying I can’t believe I ate the whole thing, Mr. Minor?” Bruce said.

“Yeah, I remember those. Was it for Pepto Bismol?” Alex said.

“I think it was Alka Seltzer,” Bruce said. “Anyway, at the moment I’m feeling like that sad sack.”

“I can relate, Bruce,” Alex said. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to eat again tonight.”

Bruce seemed to turn a little more green.

“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” Bruce said.

“Got it,” Alex said. “Sorry about the abrupt topic change, but what’s it going to take for us to get off of this island?”

Bruce looked at Alex like Alex had asked him to get up and help him move a piano, just after he’d fallen down a few flights of stairs.

“Are we in a bit of a rush, Mr. Minor?” Bruce said.

“Yes,” Alex said. “We are.”

“Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but our new sailor friends weren’t kidding about getting away from the weather. Though, King Lemmy was right about them having been safer staying out at sea rather than trying to outrun the weather and reach land. The weather reports indicate that this is a nice big storm. We aren’t going to be able to even think about flying in the Cessna for several days,” Bruce said.

“Can we fly in a different direction, away from the storm?” Alex said.

“Not without completely screwing ourselves over when it comes to flying home again. There is a certain point at which we’d have no choice but to fly over some pretty unpleasant places in order to get back to the United States,” Bruce said.

“OK, but if we’re flying over them, what’s the problem?” Alex said.

“The problem is that some of those places like shooting at foreign planes, and in case you forgot, we’ll be in a flying gas can. The other problem is that some places really don’t like it when foreign planes land there. And, should things go to hell, there are some places where we just probably wouldn’t survive an unexpected landing, even if the landing itself was textbook perfect. Are you following me?” Bruce said.

Alex grimaced, and said, “Shit.”

“Why are you in such a rush to leave, anyway?” Bruce said. “We’ve got nice accommodations and overwhelmingly gracious hosts. They seem to have taken a particular shine to you, as well.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “That’s kind of the problem. The thing King Lemmy wanted to talk to me about earlier? He wants me to marry his daughter.”

Bruce started laughing.

“It’s not really that funny, Bruce,” Alex said.

He was startled then, when Harry said from just behind him, “It is time for the evening feast, gentlemen. Please come with me.”

Alex and Bruce both gave each other an uncomfortable look, and followed behind Harry.

The evening air was cool, but still comfortable, as they walked to the great hall for the evening feast. There was a small commotion nearby. Before long, the crews of the three sailboats wandered over and joined Alex, Bruce and Harry on their way to the great hall.

“This island is just fantastic!” Tammy said. “It has all the amenities anyone could wish for. I can’t wait to tell everyone I know about it!”

Alex wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Harry start to blanch at the mere suggestion.

King Lemmy and the rest of the islanders were already in the great hall, and a great round of applause and cheering went up when Alex and Bruce walked in to the room. Their applause diminished somewhat, but still continued, as the sailors filed in behind them.

In the great hall, there was an enormous fire roaring in the fireplace, and various festive lights all around the room, including blinky Christmas lights and paper lanterns with candles in them.

King Lemmy spread his arms wide, and called out, “Welcome, honored guests and heroes!”

The islanders started to applaud and cheer again.

“Tonight we feast in honor of the courage of my good friends Alex and Bruce, and to celebrate the return of my great great grandfather to Walli-Wo!” King Lemmy continued, igniting a fresh round of applause. Alex noticed the woman in the red dress was smiling widely at him as she applauded.

Jeez, I haven’t even talked to her yet, and I’m supposed to marry her? What if she finds out she can’t stand me? Alex thought. However, he smiled and looked around the room at the islanders, trying to convey his appreciation for their applause.

He and Bruce took their seats next to King Lemmy, and the sailors squeezed themselves in wherever there was space around the rest of the room. Harry vanished, just as he had at the previous meals, appearing randomly to provide refills of anything that seemed to be getting low.

Enormous plates heaped with meat and bread were placed in front of Alex and Bruce. The two of them forced identical smiles, and did their best to cram more food into themselves. On the upside, they were also given glasses full of some kind of fantastic, sweet, fruity drink that had the very slightest taste of alcohol in it.

Although he wasn’t very hungry, Alex was powerfully thirsty, and he made short work of his first glass of whatever it was without realizing it. Naturally, another drink was immediately provided for him. Bruce was drinking somewhat slower than Alex, but had also started working on his second drink before long.

King Lemmy made pleasant conversation with Alex and Bruce about nothing much of importance. That was a good thing, because Alex had just found himself with a second empty glass, which was promptly replaced with another full glass. He had just picked up the fresh glass to take a sip when he realized that whatever these drinks were, they were potent. He had started to feel a little bit of fuzziness in his head, and then his fingertips went a bit numb and then realized he was on a fast slide downhill into sloshy drunkenness.

One of his last coherent thoughts before the drink completely overtook him was, don’t go and get married tonight.

He glanced over at Bruce and realized that Bruce seemed to be just as tuned up as he was.

Bruce leaned over to Alex and said, directly into his ear, “Man, I hope we don’t both wake up in bunny suits tomorrow.”

Alex nodded his agreement. The feast seemed to be getting pretty rowdy, with lots of yelling and laughing. Every now and then, they’d hear one of the sailors exclaim something like, “Have you tasted this? It’s amaaaaaaaaazing!”

Somewhere in the room, drumming started, and shortly after that, a group of men and women in what Alex assumed was traditional Wall-Wo garb came into the hall and began dancing. Alex found himself transfixed by the swaying hips of the female dancers. He caught himself, and hoped that he hadn’t spent long enough drunkenly ogling them that anyone else noticed.

Alex’s glance happened to fall on King Lemmy’s daughter, who was seated nearby. She was looking directly at him, and giving him a sly smile. She’d clearly caught him, and she was clearly amused with him. He was pretty sure he saw a little spark of mischief in her eyes, as well.

You know, I could do worse than to marry her, Alex thought.

His train of thought on the matter was interrupted, however, by some unexpected movement he spotted out of the corner of his eye. Harry had his hands cupped around his mouth, and was speaking directly into King Lemmy’s ear.

“WHAT?” King Lemmy roared.

The drumming and dancing came to a crashing halt, and silence fell over the room.

“What’s going on? Is this part of the show?” One of the sailors (Alex seemed to remember her name was Laurel) said.

Enunciating as carefully as he could, Alex said, “What’s wrong, King Lemmy?”

King Lemmy’s mouth was set firmly, and he had closed his eyes, apparently composing himself.

“This is,” King Lemmy said. “This is difficult for me to even believe. Today, on the very day he was returned to Walli-Wo, on the very day he was reunited with the many generations of my family…”

King Lemmy paused and took a deep breath.

“What is it?” Alex asked, gently. He’d barely known King Lemmy for a day, and didn’t think right now would be a good time to find out that he was prone to lashing out at whoever asked the question he didn’t want to answer.

“My great great grandfather has gone missing again. Someone has kidnapped him!” King Lemmy said, and covered his face.

[If you're reading this on Thursday, Happy Thanksgiving! And, thank you so much for reading this year's novel. I'm so glad you're out there! Knowing you're reading along keeps me going.]

Chapter Twenty Two Rocks and Rolls

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Wed, 23 Nov 2016 03:22:00 +0000

Thursday, June Sixteenth, After the delayed Lunchtime Feast, but still before Tea Time, Walli-Wo island time

After lunch, King Lemmy had gestured to Alex and got up from the table. Alex and Bruce got up with him, and followed him out of the great hall. The three of them walked briskly towards whatever it was that King Lemmy wanted to show them. Abruptly, King Lemmy stopped, and turned to Alex and Bruce.

“Mr. Evans, please forgive me, but I wish to speak with Mr. Minor alone,” King Lemmy said.

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up, and he stammered a bit before he said, “OK, no problem. I’ll go work on plotting our course for our flight back home.”

“Oh, I hope you don’t have to leave Walli-Wo yet,” King Lemmy said. “But thank you.”

Bruce wandered off in the direction of the house they were staying in.

Alex had remained silent through all of this, but he was even more curious about what King Lemmy wanted to show him, since Bruce was apparently not welcome to see it with him.

“Forgive me for being secretive,” King Lemmy said to Alex. “Come this way, please.”

He led Alex to his own home, the one place on the island they hadn’t been yet. It was, by all means, the nicest home on the island, but it wasn’t vastly more impressive than any of the other homes. Alex wondered if they’d had the same architect design all of the buildings on Walli-Wo. (They had.)

When they reached King Lemmy’s house, the front door was opened from inside. King Lemmy and Alex entered, and Alex turned to see who had opened the door. He was shocked to see it was Harry.

“How did you get here so quickly?” Alex said.

“I am a butler, Mr. Minor,” Harry said.

“Hmm,” Alex said. “The other butler I knew was able to do all kinds of things without being noticed too. Is there some kind of butler school where they teach you guys how to do impossible things?”

“Ah, Mr. Minor,” Harry said, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Alex laughed.

King Lemmy cleared his throat, and said, “Mr. Minor, come with me, please.”

“Oh, sorry, King Lemmy,” Alex said. He followed behind as King Lemmy led the way through his house.

King Lemmy’s home was nicely furnished but, again, it wasn’t the opulent temple to King Lemmy’s ego that Alex had expected of a king. There were a few photos of King Lemmy with other notable world leaders, but nothing was more ostentatious than the decorations in the other buildings on Walli-Wo.

Alex was impressed with King Lemmy’s restraint.

One thing King Lemmy’s house had that Alex hadn’t noticed anywhere else on the island was an inner courtyard.

King Lemmy slid open a glass door, and led Alex out into the courtyard. It was maybe forty feet square, maximum. There were a few chairs gathered in a conversational grouping, and a variety of nicely displayed potted plants.

There was also a collection of statues like the one Alex had recovered. Alex noticed the one that he’d brought to Walli-Wo was now displayed between two other statues of similar size and design, although it was clear that there was a significant age difference between them.

“Mr. Minor,” King Lemmy said, and gestured towards the statues, “I would like you to meet my ancestors.”

Then, gesturing towards Alex, he said to the statues, “I would like you to meet Mr. Minor, one of Walli-Wo’s great heroes, and my good friend.”

Alex was simultaneously very, very touched, and entirely baffled. It was clear that King Lemmy expected Alex to say something, however.

Alex bowed slightly, and said, “It’s an honor to meet you,” to the statues. He felt completely ridiculous, but it clearly pleased King Lemmy.

“You see, Mr. Minor, we create new homes in these statues for our elders when they pass, so that their spirits may return and keep watch over us,” King Lemmy said.

“So, the statue I returned…” Alex began,

“Is the home for my Great Great Grandfather,” King Lemmy said.

“And these other statues?” Alex said.

King Lemmy gestured reverently towards each statue, and told Alex who it belonged to. “My father, my mother, my grandfather,” and so on through twenty generations.

“Wow,” Alex said.

“One day,” King Lemmy said, “I shall join them and watch over my descendants and protect them as well. But for now, it is my duty to watch over my ancestors as well as my own family.”

There was something very comforting about the idea, Alex had to admit to himself.

“That’s wonderful,” Alex said. “I’ve wondered if my grandparents have been watching over me, but I can’t easily just go visit them.”

King Lemmy looked proud, and nodded in agreement. Then he said, “I am sure that your grandparents are indeed watching over you, even now. But perhaps you should build a home for them so they can visit you.”

Alex considered King Lemmy’s advice for a moment, but was distracted by a sudden uproar from inside King Lemmy’s house.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Harry said, his voice getting louder and more annoyed with each repetition.

Alex and King Lemmy were both surprised when the sliding door opened, and the sailors all spilled into the courtyard along with them.

“Oh, wow!” Tammy said. “This is just adorable! Sugar Buns, isn’t this fantastic?”

“Yes, it’s very nice! We should do something like this when we get back,” Jim said.

“Excuse me,” Harry said, using another secret skill of butlers: conveying the full magnitude of the faux pas just committed by whomever was being addressed with only the slightest change in inflection. Alex had heard Harold do it a million times.

“Excuse me,” Harry said, again, “King Lemmy, I do apologize…”

King Lemmy interrupted him, “Harry, there is nothing to apologize for. I see that our guests have lost their way. Forgive me, but this is my private home, and is closed to our visitors.”

“Yeah but you let him in here,” Anne said, pointing at Alex.

King Lemmy didn’t seem to notice Anne’s rude behavior, and said simply, “I invited Mr. Minor to come in with me.”

Harry clapped his hands twice, and said, “This way, please. Let me show you to the guest quarters we have here on Walli-Wo. They are modest, but very clean and hospitable, I assure you.”

The sailors followed Harry out, chattering noisily among themselves again.

King Lemmy glanced at Alex, and rolled his eyes. The two of them burst out in laughter simultaneously.

“How were you able to handle that so gracefully?” Alex asked King Lemmy once they had settled down again.

King Lemmy said, “Come and sit, I will tell you.”

He led Alex over to the chairs, and gestured for Alex to sit. King Lemmy sat down in the chair next to Alex and leaned over towards him.

“When people behave like that, I reflect on how I have behaved myself in the past, and then I try to think of how I would want to be treated if I were in their place and it were me being a complete fucktard,” King Lemmy said, and dropped a wink.

It took a moment for what King Lemmy had just said to sink in for Alex. Once it had, however, Alex doubled over laughing. Shortly after, King Lemmy joined in laughing with him.

I like this guy, Alex thought. He might be delusional, but at least he includes everybody equally in his delusions.

Which reminded Alex of something he’d been curious about.

“King Lemmy, may I ask you a question?” Alex said.

“You may ask me anything you like,” King Lemmy said.

“On your business card, it says you’re the first astronaut on Walli-Wo to walk on the moon,” Alex said.

“Yes,” King Lemmy said.

“Really?” Alex said.

“Of course,” King Lemmy said. He paused a moment, and then said, “Ah, I see. You are puzzled because I haven’t done it yet. That is just a matter of details. You see, first we have to finish building our rocket. Then I will be the first astronaut on Walli-Wo to walk on the moon.”

Alex had to admit that there was a certain kind of crazy logic to that.

“How far has the rocket come along?” Alex said.

“Ah! We are getting to the final design phases,” King Lemmy said, clearly very excited to talk about a pet project. “You recall meeting Sven?”

Alex was pretty sure Sven was the flat-pack furniture guy. “Yes, I think so,” Alex said.

“Well, Sven is also Walli-Wo’s greatest rocket scientist, and my good friend,” King Lemmy said. “He has a brilliant plan for a modular rocket built with standardized components. I will show you the conceptual drawings later.”

“Cool, I can’t wait to see them,” Alex said. He was starting to have a strange feeling. It seemed like King Lemmy was really opening up to him. Was King Lemmy was just always so open with everyone, or had he taken a special shine to Alex?

King Lemmy said, “Mr. Minor, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

Ah ha, Alex thought.

“I saw you looking at one of the young women in the great hall during lunch,” King Lemmy said. “It looked to me like she had been admiring you as well.”

That’s not what I was expecting him to say, Alex thought.

“Really?” Alex said.

“Did you admire her as well?” King Lemmy said.

Red lights started flashing in Alex’s mind, and somewhere in there an air raid siren started, too.

That question has a right answer and a very, very wrong answer, Alex thought. And I have no idea which one is the right one.

Saying no could be equivalent to insulting the women of Walli-Wo. On the other hand, saying yes might be setting Alex up for a “keep your hands off of my woman” confrontation.

After a couple of seconds’ consideration, Alex decided that “yes,” was the correct answer. If it turned out to be the wrong answer, he was fairly sure he could talk his way out of it. Barring that, Bruce had an airplane they could use to get away, if needed.

“Well,” Alex said, thinking of the woman in the red dress, “yes.”

King Lemmy smiled, and said, “Good, I am glad you said that.”

Alex ventured a hopeful smile.

“She is my daughter, and I wish for you to marry her and become my heir,” King Lemmy said.

“Wait, what?” Alex said.

Chapter Twenty One is Always A Winner

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Tue, 22 Nov 2016 03:25:00 +0000

Thursday, June Sixteenth, Still Just Before the Lunchtime Feast, Since the Lunchtime Feast Was Delayed, Walli-Wo island time

Alex and Bruce followed Harry and the other islanders to what they assumed was the sea port of Walli-Wo. Alex still wasn’t sure that there was anything to be concerned about, but everyone else seemed pretty freaked out about the arrival of multiple ships.

Getting to the port didn’t take very long, since they walked directly there, and Walli-Wo just isn’t a very big island. Alex was impressed with the port. There was a large concrete pier and associated machinery (most of which Alex could only guess was for unloading boats.), as well as a small marina that had a few boats tied up.

“Wow, you guys have a marina?” Alex said to Harry.

Harry said, “Yes, Mr. Minor. It’s where we keep our boats.”

“Right, right,” Alex said. “I just hadn’t realized…”

The other islanders had gathered behind King Lemmy, and all of them were looking out to sea.

Out in the water, was a sailboat. It was hard to judge size based on the distance, but Alex guessed it couldn’t have been more than forty feet long, and might even be smaller than that. Further out was another sailboat, and there was another one beyond that.

Some navy, Alex thought. He kept that thought to himself, however.

Everyone stood and watched as the boats slowly approached. Eventually the first boat furled it’s jib, and sailed even more slowly into one of the slips in the marina. The other boats followed suit.

King Lemmy looked around and the other people surrounding him, and announced loudly, “Well, let’s go down to the marina and welcome our guests!”

As they got down closer to the marina, the crew of each of the boats could be seen tying up to the dock, and bustling around the decks getting things put away, as well as taking other things out. Every now and then, one of them would glance up at the approaching islanders and say something to the others on their boat, after which all of them would take a moment to stop what they were doing and stare at the islanders before getting back to whatever it was they were doing.

Once they had reached the marina, the vast majority of the islanders stopped walking and just waited at the end of the pier where the newly arrived boats had tied up. They seemed unsure of how to proceed. King Lemmy, however, continued up on to the pier and started making his way down to where the new visitors were. Harry hurried after King Lemmy, and after a moment’s consideration, Alex followed too.

Shortly after, Bruce came running up behind Alex, and whispered, “So, why are we following these two?”

“Because King Lemmy seems like a good guy, and I hate to think he only has Harry for back up at the moment,” Alex said.

“OK, so it is because we have a death wish. Just wanted to clarify,” Bruce said.

“Oh, come on Bruce, they’re just sailors. They’re just like RV people, only they’re usually also kind of soggy,” Alex said.

“That’s not as reassuring as you seem to think it is, Mr. Minor,” Bruce said.

“…Says the guy who flew a Cessna to some tiny island in the Pacific, hundreds of miles from anything else, to hand-deliver a statue.” Alex said.

Bruce didn’t say anything else.

King Lemmy had already reached the boats. “Welcome to Walli-Wo!” he said, with his arms spread wide.

“Thanks!” said a chipper woman wearing a huge, broad-brimmed hat and enormous sunglasses. She was also wearing a t-shirt that Alex guessed had been white when it was new, and cargo shorts. At the moment, she was the only person on deck aboard the sailing vessel “Titan Uranus.”

King Lemmy waited a moment, apparently expecting her to say more, before he said, “I am King Lemmy. What brings you to our small island?”

“Oh, wow, island royalty!” the same woman said. She called down the hatch into the boat’s cabin, “Sugar Buns, come up here and meet King Lemmy!”

King Lemmy looked back at Harry, Alex and Bruce, and (almost imperceptibly) shrugged.

Sugar Buns came up out of the hatch. He was wearing a baseball cap that was thoroughly salt-encrusted, and huge sunglasses of his own.

“Hi!” Sugar Buns said to King Lemmy. He waved at Harry, Alex and Bruce. “I’m Jim and this is Tammy.”

“Welcome to Walli-Wo, Jim and Tammy,” King Lemmy said.

A man’s voice from the neighboring boat (“Fishing for Dollars”) said, “Did you say King Lemmy?”

“Yeah! Can you believe it?” Tammy said.

Another head in a baseball cap and sunglasses popped out from behind some rigging.

“Wow! I haven’t met a King yet. I’m Stan. Laurel is somewhere below deck. I think she’s powdering her nose,” Stan said.

Yet another voice chimed in from the third boat (“Bluebird IV”), “My ass. She’s down there heaving her guts. I’ve never met someone with worse sea legs than your wife, Stan.”

“Shut your stupid mouth and come meet King Lemmy, Anne,” Stan said.

Anne (presumably) poked her head out from the hatch of her boat, said, “hey!” to King Lemmy, and went back below deck.

“Wow…” Alex said.

“Kind of makes you wish it had been pirates, or a navy, doesn’t it?” Bruce said.

Harry stifled a laugh.

King Lemmy glanced at Harry, Alex and Bruce again, and then said, “Welcome, all. Please, come ashore and join us for lunch as our guests! And you must tell me, what brings you to Walli-Wo? We are not accustomed to receiving many visitors.”

“Well, we’re trying to get out of the way of the storm, of course,” Tammy said.

“Storm?” Alex said.

“Yeah, there’s some nasty weather out there,” Bruce said.

Alex turned to him. “Were you going to share this information with me any time soon?”

“Sure,” Bruce said. “But there was no rush. We’re not going anywhere until it’s cleared up anyway.”

Meanwhile, King Lemmy was still conversing with the crew of Titan Uranus.

“Storm?” King Lemmy said.

“Yeah, a real humdinger, it sounds like,” Tammy said.

“But… Would your vessels be safer far out at sea rather than here so close to shore?” King Lemmy said. He seemed baffled.

“They sure would be,” Anne chimed in. “But a certain couple of ladies noticed your island here and insisted we ride out the weather here.”

“Just because you want to pretend you’re Davy Jones doesn’t mean the rest of us have to,” Tammy said, sharply.

Anne blew a raspberry at Tammy.

“Yeah,” Alex said to Bruce. “Pirates would have been better company, I think.”

King Lemmy, the islanders, Alex and Bruce, and the sailors, all walked back to the great hall together, to begin the lunchtime feast.

Alex and Bruce were both still so stuffed from breakfast and second breakfast that they both felt a little ill just walking back in to the great hall again. Plates were set in front of each of them, each piled high with Walli-Wo delicacies, but they were barely able to managed the few bites they each took to be polite.

Note to self, Alex thought, take it easy at meal times tomorrow.

The crews of the three sailboat all noisily chattered among themselves, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the great hall, the islanders, and recollecting the adventures they’d had together on the way there.

After some time, Jim turned to Alex and Bruce and said, “You fellas aren’t from around here either, are you?”

“No, we’re not,” Alex said.

“I figured. So what’s the deal with your bunny slippers?” Jim said.

“They’re comfy,” Alex said.

“Are those approved footwear for a soldier such as yourself?” Jim said, with a hint of a smile.

“Nope, a soldier such as myself would find himself in a huge heap of shit if he were caught in these,” Alex said. “Good thing for me, I’m not a soldier any more.”

Jim looked confused. “So why are you wearing a dress uniform, then?” he said.

“It’s more formal than my bunny suit. We are, after all, in the presence of a king,” Alex said.

“Huh?” Jim said.

Bruce said, “Mr. Minor is a bit eccentric. Sometimes it’s best just to smile and nod.”

“Hey!” Alex said to Bruce.

Jim was already smiling and nodding at Alex. He turned back to the rest of his group.

“Eccentric?” Alex said to Bruce.

“It shut him up, didn’t it?” Bruce said. “If you want to get rid of someone, just convince them that they’re in the presence of someone else they don’t know how to handle. They’ll go away.”

Alex was still stinging a bit from the “Excuse him, he’s eccentric,” but he had to admit that Bruce seemed to have a point.

He happened to take a look around the room then, and made eye contact with the woman in the red dress again. She pointed down at his slippers and giggled, but her expression was kind and Alex started smiling despite himself.

“Mr. Minor,” King Lemmy said.

Alex snapped back out of his reverie, and turned to look at King Lemmy, who had clearly seen him making eyes at the woman in the red dress. King Lemmy was barely containing a smile.

“Yes, King Lemmy?” Alex said.

“Do you know why the statue you have returned to me is so valuable to me?” King Lemmy said.

“Well, no, I guess not. I figured it was sentimental value, perhaps,” Alex said, then caught himself and shut up before he said anything even more dumb.

King Lemmy laughed, and said, “Much more than sentimental value. I didn’t think you understood when I thanked you for returning my great great grandfather.”

Alex did his best to maintain a poker face.

He didn’t know it, but his poker face was about as hard to read as a large print edition of a Dick & Jane primer.

“As I thought,” King Lemmy said. “You see, on Walli-Wo, we treasure the wisdom, courage, strength and kindness of our ancestors. And what’s more, our ancestors watch over us, just as we will watch over our descendants after our own passing.”

“OK,” Alex said. He still didn’t have any idea how that made the statue King Lemmy’s great great grandfather.

King Lemmy continued, “The reason that the statue you recovered for me is so valuable, is that it is the vessel my great great grandfather uses to watch over me and my family. After we have eaten, come with me. There is something I wish to show you.”

“OK, sounds good,” Alex said. He’d thought they’d already seen all of Walli-Wo that morning. What else could there be?

Chapter Twenty is Very, Very Good

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Mon, 21 Nov 2016 02:11:00 +0000

Thursday, June Sixteenth, Just Before the Lunchtime Feast, Walli-Wo island time

Alex and Bruce were both feeling pretty rough after second breakfast. However, they’d both learned an important lesson about the fine art of feasting on Walli-Wo.

Gertrude had woken Alex about fifteen minutes before second breakfast was set to begin, so he could freshen himself up. He took the opportunity to put on the dress blues he’d been given. Since there were no shoes to match, he had to decide between going barefoot and wearing the bunny slippers. After a moment’s consideration, he decided that the slippers were better than possibly picking up some kind of parasite he wasn’t sure existed by walking around barefoot.

He emerged from his bedroom at almost the same moment Bruce came out of his own bedroom.

“Hey Bruce,” Alex said. “Did Gertrude wake you up too?”

“Who is Gertrude, Mr. Minor?” Bruce said. He glanced down at Alex’s slippers, but said nothing.

“You know, the friendly woman who is apparently here to help us out?” Alex said.

“Apparently, I have a friendly local of my own,” Bruce said. “A guy named Dylan”

“Dylan?” Alex said.

“That’s what he said,” Bruce said. “Seems like a nice guy, though being woken up by two loud hand claps and a war whoop was a surprise.”

“I know what you mean,” Alex said. He decided it’d be best not to describe to Bruce how Gertrude had woken him up: by gently rubbing his back with one hand and ringing a softly chiming bell with the other hand.

Harry had been waiting for them just outside, and led them to the great hall again, where all of the islanders were gathering again.

“Do you take all of your meals together as a group?” Bruce asked Harry as they walked.

“Oh yes. Well, of course, sometimes we have snacks on our own,” Harry said. “But for the five main meals of the day we always gather.”

During second breakfast, Alex and Bruce were barely able to take a bite of everything on their plates before they both had to stop eating for fear of becoming ill.

Alex figured it would be poor form to blow chunks in front of King Lemmy.

But here is where they learned the important lesson. King Lemmy was happy to see them enjoying themselves, but didn’t seem to mind that they hadn’t eaten much of what was on their plate. And no one else had surprised them with more food, or even offered.

The key, apparently, was to not clean their plate.

King Lemmy had come to second breakfast after everyone had already been served. As such, he hadn’t seen Alex’s slippers until after second breakfast was finished. He’d told Alex and Bruce to wait outside the great hall for him.

The two of them stood awkwardly outside and smiled and nodded at all of the islanders as they passed by. After some time, King Lemmy and Harry approached them.

King Lemmy had looked Alex up and down, and laughed uproariously.

“Not only are you a great hero,” King Lemmy said, “But a natural comedian as well! Thank you for bringing a measure of levity to Walli-Wo as well.”

Alex was dumbfounded and didn’t know what to say for a moment. Eventually, his brain kicked in again and he said, “I’m glad I can help.”

“Come with me, I want to introduce you to my people,” King Lemmy said, and led them away from the great hall.

Alex felt very self-conscious as everyone on the island openly stared at them as they walked with King Lemmy. At least everyone seemed friendly and merely curious. He’d been in other places before where being stared at by everyone had been a very, very bad thing.

King Lemmy led them into another modern building nearby. It had an ornate plaque over the front door which read, “Walli-Wo International Bank.”

The interior was every inch an upscale bank. The floor was made of marble, and the walls were lined with dark wood. There was a small counter with a sign over it that read “Teller.” There was no one working at it at the moment, but then, there didn’t appear to be any customers in the bank at the moment either. There were, however, at least eight heavy, dark wooden desks with bankers in sport coats and ties, and many of them were on the phone.

King Lemmy led them past the bankers (all of whom looked up and smiled as they walked by) and into an office in the back. There was a woman working at another, even larger, wooden desk. She looked up and smiled as they walked in.

King Lemmy said, “Please let me introduce you to Helga. She is the greatest financial mind of Walli-Wo, and brilliant bank manager, and my good friend.”

“It’s great to meet you,” Alex said.

From there, King Lemmy introduced them to each of the bankers as they got off the phone. All of them seemed thrilled to see King Lemmy and to meet Alex and Bruce. Each of them were introduced as the greatest lead salesman, greatest customer service manager, greatest loan processor, and so on, of Walli-Wo, in addition to being King Lemmy’s good friends.

After meeting everyone in the bank, King Lemmy told Alex that their international banking business ensured that everyone on Walli-Wo wanted for nothing.

“Who are your customers?” Alex had asked.

“Very rich people and corporations who don’t trust the Swiss,” King Lemmy said, and laughed his huge laugh.

He led them to a nearby house, and knocked on the door. A woman opened the door, and smiled widely.

“Hello King Lemmy!” she said.

Alex marveled at the fact that no one, so far, seemed to be using fake customer service smiles. They genuinely seemed happy to see King Lemmy, as well as him and Bruce.

“Hello Samantha!” King Lemmy said.

He turned to Alex and Bruce and said, “This is Samantha, she is the greatest pork roast chef and international shipping specialist of Walli-Wo, and my good friend!”

Alex was also impressed that King Lemmy appeared to genuinely mean everything he said about everyone he introduced to them.

“International shipping?” Alex said.

“And amazing pork roasts!” King Lemmy said. “To die for.”

“What kind of stuff do you import and export?” Alex said.

“Mostly I handle the flat pack furniture shipments, but also the construction materials and other business equipment. Things like that,” Samantha said.

“Flat pack furniture? Do you manufacture furniture here?” Alex said, and glanced at Bruce. He hadn’t noticed any flat pack furniture yet on Walli-Wo.

“Oh, no,” Samantha said. “King Lemmy is too modest to tell you, but he orders flat pack furniture and assembles it, then ships it to those less fortunate around the world already assembled. He heard that assembling furniture is difficult, and felt that people who are in need of furniture shouldn’t have to assemble it themselves as well. Their lives are already difficult.”

King Lemmy laughed and waved his hands to dismiss it as nothing.

“It is a small hobby of mine,” he said.

Alex thought that was an oddly sweet hobby.

“I’m sure you are the best assembler of flat pack furniture on Walli-Wo,” Alex said.

King Lemmy looked taken aback, and then laughed and said, “I am a very good assembler of flat pack furniture, but no, I shall introduce you shortly to Sven, the best assembler of flat pack furniture on Walli-Wo. Sven is a very good friend of mine, you know…”

He led Alex and Bruce around the island for the rest of the morning, introducing them to absolutely every person. All of them were introduced fondly as the greatest whatever-they-did on Walli-Wo, and King Lemmy’s good friend. Alex had no doubt that King Lemmy meant what he’d said, and found himself starting to really like King Lemmy. Everyone who lived on the island seemed to adore King Lemmy too. Alex had been expecting to see some quick, nervous smiles like he’d usually see when getting introduced to employees by a CEO. Instead, everyone seemed content to simply hang out and chat with King Lemmy for as long as he cared to chat.

After they’d met everyone and toured the entire island, (which didn’t take long. Walli-Wo was a very small island.) King Lemmy said, “Come with me back to my home. We have much to discuss!”

As they walked Alex said to King Lemmy, “It seems like everyone here thinks very highly of you, King Lemmy.”

King Lemmy stopped walking, turned and smiled. “And I think very highly of them also! Would you like to know my secret to making so many friends?”

Alex was all ears. “Yes, of course,” Alex said.

King Lemmy leaned in close, and whispered, “I know the name of everyone on the island, and as I have gotten to know them, I have learned what they are the best at. Then I tell them the truth: that they are the best on Walli-Wo at what they are the best at, and that they are my good friend. I love all of my people here on Walli-Wo.”

Alex had to admit, King Lemmy’s method seemed to work. Telling people how good they are at what they’re good at and that they are your friend, who’d have thought?

Just then, a bell, somewhere across the island, started to ring. King Lemmy and Harry both looked puzzled, and turned to look at where the bell was ringing.

“Is this expected?” King Lemmy asked Harry.

“No, King Lemmy,” Harry said.

Alex and Bruce exchanged a glance as well.

Bruce said, “What does that bell mean?”

Harry turned and said, “It is the bell that announces an incoming ship.”

“Don’t you get a lot of ships?” Alex said, thinking of Samantha the shipping specialist.

“No, Mr. Minor,” Harry said. “Only one ship arrives each month, and it had already come and gone for this month.”

The bell started ringing again.

King Lemmy and Harry gave each other an uneasy look, and King Lemmy strode powerfully away, toward the sound of the bell, without another word, leaving Alex and Bruce with Harry.

“What’s going on?” Alex said. “Why did King Lemmy hurry off like that? They’re just boats, right?”

The bell started to ring some more.

Harry looked gravely at Alex and said, “We are a very small island, and we rarely see more than one ship per month. We never see several ships on the same day.”

“Well, so it’s unusual, but why are you concerned?” Alex said.

Harry took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he’d collected himself, he said, “We are a small, rich, island. And another way of describing several ships is to call it a fleet. Or, Mr. Minor, you could call it a navy.”

Alex noticed the other islanders seemed to be hurrying into buildings, while others were hustling to where ever it was King Lemmy had run off to. Alex guessed it was the port of Walli-Wo.

“Are you saying Walli-Wo is being attacked?” Alex said.

Chapter Nineteen is Definitely Today's Best Chapter

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Sun, 20 Nov 2016 03:14:00 +0000

Thursday, June Sixteenth, Just After the Morning Feast, Walli-Wo island time

Alex and Bruce hadn’t eaten so well, or so much, in ages. They were both caught off guard by the hospitality of the islanders.

In an effort to show their gratitude and enjoyment of the food, Alex and Bruce had both cleaned their plates. Both of which were promptly filled again before they could even protest. They’d cleaned their plates again, and this time tried to catch their host before their plates were loaded again, without any luck.

Alex and Bruce tried their hardest to eat everything they’d been given, but each of them could only physically hold so much food before they couldn’t even force it down any more.

King Lemmy, Alex noticed, had been observing the two of them as they ate. When they’d reached the point where they had to set their forks down, he laughed his huge laugh, and said, “Both of you have a hero’s appetite as well! You must be eager to rest after your travels, I shall have Harry show you to your quarters so you can rest.”

Harry had somehow appeared behind Alex and Bruce without either of them noticing him. Alex wondered if he had also been the one heaping their plates with food. He wondered if perhaps Harry was somehow distantly related to Harold as well. It was a small world, after all.

Note to self, Alex thought, Butlers are made of magic, and also a little unsettling.

“Gentlemen, please come with me,” Harry said, with a small bow.

Alex and Bruce exchanged a quick glance and stood up.

Alex said to King Lemmy, “Thank you so much for your hospitality, King Lemmy.”

“It is my pleasure! Please let me know if there is anything you require during your time here, and it will be provided for you,” King Lemmy said. “Now go, go and rest. You must be exhausted. The finest heroes’ accommodations on Walli-Wo have been arranged for you. I look forward to talking with you more later today.”

“Thank you very much,” Alex said. “We look forward to talking more with you as well.”

He and Bruce followed Harry, who led them out of the hall (they received quite a few enthusiastic pats on the back on their ways past the other islanders).

Alex was taken once again by the juxtaposition of high and low technology on the island. Clearly, someone was shrewd in business. He wondered if the low technology stuff like the lean-tos were because the islanders were a little backwards, or if they were deliberately holding on to their roots as well as they could manage while incorporating current tools as well. If that was the case, Alex thought that was pretty cool.

Before long Harry had led them to their accommodations. It was another ultra-modern building, a small house that was all right angles, concrete and glass.

“Here is where you’ll be staying, gentlemen,” Harry said. “Should you need anything at all, please simply ring and someone will be with you shortly to assist you. Second breakfast will start in about two hours, two hours after that, we’ll have a light lunch. Then in mid-afternoon there will be a tea ceremony. Tonight’s feast will start somewhat late, so there will be time for a small snack early in the evening. Please rest, someone will come to bring you for second breakfast.”

Alex had absolutely no idea how to respond. Neither did Bruce. Both of them were thinking roughly the same thought, “Second breakfast is a thing?”

Harry turned and walked away. Alex and Bruce watched him casually saunter off.

“You know,” Alex said once he figured Harry was out of earshot, “He speaks very formally for a guy in shorts and flip-flops.”

“I noticed that too,” Bruce said. “Let’s get inside and relax. I really need to sleep.”

The two of them walked into the house, and marveled that such a place existed on an island that was, for all intents and purposes, in the middle of nowhere.

“How the hell did they get an Eames chair here?” Bruce said as they surveyed the great room that the front door of the house opened in to.

“Is that an Andy Warhol on the wall?” Alex said.

The two of them took everything in for a moment, and then Bruce shrugged and said, “Well, if they could afford to hire Darcy Custom Brokers, this stuff is largely chump change. Let’s get some sleep.”

Alex marveled a bit more before realizing that he could also really use some rest. The two of them wandered through the house until they found the bedrooms.

“Oh, hey,” Bruce said. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Really?” Alex said. He was so surprised he wasn’t sure if he should be suspicious or not.

“Yeah, hang on, let me get it out of my bag,” Bruce said. He went into one of the bedrooms, and came out carrying what looked like a pile of folded blue fabric. Handed the pile to Alex.

“What is this?” Alex said.

“Dress blues,” Bruce said. “Colonel Klink said he thought they’d probably fit you well enough.”

“Colonel Klink?” Alex said. A small flash of anger.

“Yeah, he thought you might like these better than the bunny suit, and he figured BDUs would be too informal for meeting with a king,” Bruce said, with a devilish grin.

“…And why didn’t you give these to me before we took off?” Alex said.

“Colonel’s direct orders, Mr. Minor. He thought it would be funnier if you arrived on Walli-Wo in the bunny suit,” Bruce said.

Alex was too tired, and too full of Walli-Wo delicacies for practical jokes at the moment. He paused, and tried to collect himself so he didn’t say anything rash.

Deep breath in, deep breath out… Alex thought. When he was ready, he spoke in as calm and soothing a manner as he could manage.

“Please remind me, the next time we see Colonel Klink,“ Alex said, “to kick him as hard as I can right in the stuffed animals.”

Bruce laughed, and said, “Whatever you say, Mr. Minor. Let’s get some sleep.”

He went into the bedroom he’d picked, and shut the door behind himself.

Alex looked down at the pile of dress blues. His first thought was, I hope there’s a shirt in here.

His next thought was, I don’t see any shoes in this pile. Thanks, Colonel Klink.

Alex went into the closest bedroom and shut the door behind him before he looked up and saw what the room looked like. His jaw dropped.

For all of the minimalistic (if luxurious) simplicity of the great room, this room seemed to be an exercise in maximalist design. The walls were hung with luxurious fabrics. The furniture was ornate to the point of being baroque. There was a table laden with fruits and sliced meats, as well as several carafes full of juices that Alex suspected were probably divine if you haven’t already eaten the best part of a horse that morning. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and there were many, many little tchotchkes and ornaments made of gold and colored stones. It took Alex a moment to realize that the stones were probably actually gemstones. The bed was also the single biggest bed Alex had ever seen. He was pretty sure that he and twenty other people could all fit in there without crowding one another. It had four huge posts carved into totem-like heads, and a canopy made of a velvet that was blue edging on violet. There was also a thick rope hanging right next to the bed. It was made of golden silk, hanging from a hole in the ceiling just big enough to let the rope pass through. Vague recollections of a Sherlock Holmes story briefly flitted through Alex’s mind before curiosity got the best of him and he went over to check it out.

After a brief glance up at the hole the rope went into in the ceiling, Alex grabbed it and gave it a firm yank.

Somewhere, not too far off, a deep, melodious bell rang.

Oh, cool, Alex thought.

He put his new dress blues down on the bed, and laid each item out so he could see what he had.

There were: one pair of pants with a stripe running down the outside of each leg, a white shirt, a tie, a suit jacket that matched the pants and…

Alex steamed a bit.

…And on the left side of the jacket, where a soldier would display any medals earned, was a great big blue ribbon. It said, “I pooped in the big potty!” in gold letters. There was also a teddy bear giving a thumbs up outlined in gold.

Just then a voice, not Alex’s, said, “How can I assist you?”

Alex looked up from the stupid ribbon, and found himself face to face with a beautiful woman wearing, well, just enough.

“Uh,” Alex said.

The woman smiled gently, and waited for his answer.

After a few seconds, gears started turning. Hadn’t Harry said something about just ringing if he needed anything? He realized he’d just rung a bell, and a quick glance didn’t reveal any telephones in the room.

“Um,” Alex said.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is there something else I can do for you?” she said.

Alex swallowed hard, and tried to will his brain into coming up with something to say. It didn’t work.

Finally, he laughed awkwardly and said, “Oh, the bell… Um… I’m sorry, I don’t really need anything. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

She looked crestfallen, and nodded. Alex felt like a real jerk.

Think, damn it, think! Alex ordered himself. Clearly she felt bad that she couldn’t help him out with something. There must be something he could ask for that would get them both out of this awkward situation.

“Well, I’ll let you rest,” was what she had been about to see, but Alex interrupted her after she’d said, “Well.”

“You know,” Alex said, “I think I could really use some more pillows. And towels. I need a lot of towels. Could you get those for me?”

She suddenly perked up again, and smiled broadly at him.

Smiles like that will be the end of me, Alex thought.

“Yes, of course, I’ll bring them right away, Mr. Minor,” she said.

Mr. Minor? Alex thought, briefly wondering who she really was before he remembered that he and Bruce were guests of honor. Of course she knew his name.

“Thank you Miss, umm?” Alex said.

Miss umm blushed and said, “You may call me Gertrude.”

She then hurried out of the room. Despite himself, Alex couldn’t help watching as her hips swayed while she walked.

When his brain started working again, he thought, “Gertrude?”

The folks on this island had oddly European names, considering that they were isolated and in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Alex made a mental note to find out why that was, if he could.

Before long, Gertrude had returned with a stack of towels and pillows that she had somehow managed defy physics in order to balance and carry.

“Mrrflmm mm mmm mrrt meez?” Gertrude said from behind the stack she was carrying.

“Sorry?” Alex said, then thought, she wants to know where to put them. “Oh, uh, just on the bed is fine, thank you, Gertrude.”

“Mrrfl mm mm,” Gertrude said, then set the stack of towels and pillows down on the bed. She was slightly flushed, and upon seeing that, Alex decided the best thing to do was to get back to work on getting his new dress blues in order. First thing to do would be to remove that stupid ribbon.

“Is there anything else you would like, Mr. Minor?” Gertrude said, and smiled widely at Alex.

Derrrrrrp, is what Alex thought. He managed to collect himself again, after a moment of staring, and said, “No, thank you very much. I think I need to rest now.”

“Very good, Mr. Minor. Sleep well. I will wake you for second breakfast,” Gertrude said.

She walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.

Alex spaced out for a few seconds before an unpleasant thought forced its way into his consciousness and rudely interrupted other, more blissful, thoughts.

Wake me for second breakfast? Alex thought. His stomach, already distended, moaned at him (something Alex hadn’t even been aware it could do). How am I supposed to graciously eat more?

“Shit,” Alex said.

Chapter Eighteen (And I Like It!)

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Sat, 19 Nov 2016 02:56:00 +0000

Thursday, June Sixteenth, Just Before the Morning Feast, Walli-Wo island time

Bruce had been making small talk with King Lemmy while Alex rolled around on the ground until he was finally able to get his feet under him. Once he was on his feet, Alex clambered back into the plane and grabbed the statue they were there to deliver.

He unwrapped it from the blanket it was wound in, and checked it over to make sure it was still in the same shape it had been in when he left Minneapolis. Thankfully, it was.

Getting back out of the plane this time, even carrying the statue, was a much more graceful experience for him.

King Lemmy happened to glance away from Bruce, who was explaining the finer points of the fuel storage system in the Cessna and why landing was so much less nerve-wracking than taking off had been in this case, and saw Alex carrying the statue away from the plane. He face broke into a huge, wide grin, and he walked away from Bruce, who was still mid-sentence about why wingtip auxiliary fuel tanks were preferable to cockpit mounted tanks, and over to Alex.

“You must be Mr. Minor, Mr. Darcy has said you are the best at finding things that are hard to find, and here you are with my great great grandfather!” King Lemmy said.

Alex assumed King Lemmy’s English was somewhat broken, and that he’d just forgotten to say “statue” after “great great grandfather’s.”

“That’s me,” Alex said. “You’re welcome to just call me Alex, though.”

“Ah! And Alex, you are welcome to call me King Lemmy!” King Lemmy said, and laughed heartily.

Alex didn’t know why, but he found himself laughing along with King Lemmy almost instantly.

“I’m glad to meet you, King Lemmy,” Alex said.

King Lemmy took the statue from Alex. Another one of the islanders stepped forward and reverentially took the statue from King Lemmy almost immediately. Since he was dressed in a black morning coat, and grey shorts, Alex assumed he was King Lemmy’s equivalent of a butler. King Lemmy looked at Alex and gestured to his butler.

“Alex! You must meet Harry, my manservant. He is the finest butler and valet on Walli-Wo!” King Lemmy said, with tremendous enthusiasm.

Harry smiled widely and nodded at Alex, since his hands were full with the statue at the moment.

“It’s good to meet you too, Harry,” Alex said. “You know, I lived with a butler named Harold for a while.”

King Lemmy laughed again, shaking his whole body. “An excellent name for a butler! Forgive me if I boast, but I expect Harry is an even better butler than your Harold.”

Alex didn’t quite know what to make of that, so he just smiled widely and said, “I’m sure you’re right, although please don’t ever tell Harold I said so.”

More laughter from King Lemmy. “Should I meet him, it will remain our secret, never fear,” King Lemmy said.

He put a hand in the pocket of his morning coat, and produced an ornate card case, which he opened with a flourish. With the greatest of care, he removed one of the cards from the case and handed it to Alex.

Baffled, but doing his best to be respectful, Alex took the proffered business card with an equal amount of care and looked at it admiringly. It was difficult for him to maintain his poker face. The card read:

King Lemmy

King and Fearless Leader of Walli-Wo

First Astronaut of Walli-Wo to Walk On The Moon

Most Valorous and Daring General of the Army of Walli-Wo

Best Dressed Man of Walli-Wo

President and CEO of Walli-Wo International Bank

Finest Tango Dancer of Walli-Wo

He looked back up at King Lemmy, who was looking at him proudly.

“While you and your pilot, Bruce, are here on Walli-Wo, you are my most honored guests. Should you require anything, please call upon me,” King Lemmy said.

Alex blinked twice, and said, “Thank you, it’s very gracious of you to say so.”

King Lemmy waved his hand in a comic dismissal, “It is nothing. You have returned my Great Great Grandfather to me. But for now, it is time for something to eat to start the day. Tonight, we shall have a great feast to celebrate the return of my Great Great Grandfather, and to honor his rescuer and brave pilot.”

Alex and Bruce glanced at each other.

“OK, thank you very much,” Alex said, since he couldn’t think of anything else to say in reply.

King Lemmy laughed good naturedly, and Alex found himself starting to really warm to him.

“Let us breakfast!” King Lemmy shouted. He turned and started walking away. Harry waited to follow behind, casually (though reverently) holding the heavy statue as if it was hardly a burden at all. He gestured to Alex and Bruce with his head that the two of them should follow behind King Lemmy. They did, and Harry followed close behind them.

The islanders broke into cheers, and started walking en masse behind the four of them.

Alex had to admit, he probably should have paid closer attention to the packet of information about Walli-Wo that Mr. Darcy had given him. He’d just kind of skimmed it, to be honest. Had he read it, he may have been less surprised by the manner of dress of the islanders, and the peculiar combination of primitive and ultra-modern technology on the island.

It was true that the airport seemed to be more of what a bunch of industrious kids with access to a lot of bamboo and palm fronds would build if they wanted to pretend they had an airport.

At the same time, the great island hall, if you wanted to call it such a thing, could have been designed by Frank Llloyd Wright (actually, it had been a student of his), and was built out of completely modern materials. The houses they passed along the way were relatively small, but also built from modern materials. There were no cars, however, and domesticated animals and livestock wandered freely around the island. And there was the occasional lean-to made out of bamboo covering what looked to be relatively current communications and networking equipment. At the moment, there was a healthy looking pig relaxing in the shade of a lean-to next to what looked to Alex like a modem and wireless router.

There were two islanders acting as doormen at the great hall. As King Lemmy approached, they pulled open the doors. Alex couldn’t see who it was, but someone had started ringing what sounded like a large bell at the same time.

King Lemmy led them into the great hall, where a spectacularly huge assortment of meats, fruits, breads and sweets had been laid out on a table that was easily twenty feet long. At the far end of the hall was an enormous fireplace. Great logs had been laid in the fireplace, but they weren’t lit at the moment.

King Lemmy proceeded to the head of the table, where he stepped up on to a footstool, and waited for everyone to get into the hall. Alex and Bruce stood next to him, after some prompting by Harry, and they watched as the islanders all came in. Once everyone was inside, Alex guessed there were probably no more than one hundred people in the hall.

He leaned over to Bruce, and discretely asked, “Is this the entire island in here?”

Apparently, he wasn’t as discrete as he’d thought.

“Yes,” Harry said.

“Wow,” Alex said. Then, because he didn’t want to be rude, he said, “What a fantastic hall! It’s terrific that you can fit everyone in here at one time.”

Harry beamed at Alex and nodded proudly. King Lemmy also looked down at Alex from up on his footstool and smiled.

King Lemmy spread his arms and addressed the small crowd, “It is a great day for Walli-Wo! These two brave heroes have returned my great great grandfather to me!”

The entire crowd broke into cheers and applause. Bruce and Alex awkwardly smiled and nodded. Neither of them had been expecting this reception (even Bruce had started to skim the info about Walli-Wo after a point…).

King Lemmy continued, after a suitable pause, “Tonight, we shall have a great feast to recognize and honor our special guests!”

The crowd cheered again. Alex noticed several pretty women in the group were giving him coy smiles. He smiled back, at which they’d mostly look away and giggle among themselves. One of the pretty women batting her eyelashes at him, Alex noticed, was wearing a bright red dress, and an assortment of golden necklaces as well as gold bangles on her wrists. She had long dark hair, with a red flower tucked behind one ear. Unlike the others, she did not look away when Alex smiled at her.

It seemed like it was going to be a pretty nice day or two here on Walli-Wo to Alex.

Alex found himself breaking eye contact with the woman in the red dress first. As it was, he glanced down.

Which is when he realized he was still wearing a pink bunny suit with fuzzy pink bunny slippers. Only now, the bunny suit was also covered in dust and gravel from when he’d fallen down after getting out of the plane.

Awesome, Alex thought.

When he looked up again, he noticed the woman in the red dress was still giving him a coy smile. He couldn’t help but smile back, and fell in love a little bit when she giggled while maintaining eye contact with him.

King Lemmy had been talking, but Alex hadn’t caught much of it. The crowd cheered again, which brought Alex back out of his reverie.

“But for now, let’s eat!” King Lemmy bellowed, and laughed with great apparent pleasure.

Alex smiled again despite himself.

First Astronaut of Walli-Wo, huh? Well, why not? He throws a mean party, Alex thought.

Chapter Seventeen Rocks One Harder Than Sixteen

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Fri, 18 Nov 2016 02:47:00 +0000

Thursday, June Sixteenth, Getting Pretty Close to Sunrise, over the Middle of the Pacific Ocean

Alex wasn’t exactly certain when they had departed from their visit with Colonel Klink and his merry band of misfit soldiers, and he wasn’t exactly certain what time they were finally going to arrive on Walli-wo, but he was exactly certain of how badly he needed to stretch his legs: very, very, very badly.

At the moment, Alex was doing his best to meditate and focus on his breath rather than the pain in his legs at the spots where the Cessna’s seat was digging in to him.

Breathing in, ow, fuck, one…

Breathing out, two…

Breathing in… Who’s idea was this, anyway?

Breathing out… Bruce and his damn hurry, and here I am stuck around 12,000 feet above the ocean in a pink bunny suit after not getting to tour a nuclear silo… Oops…

Breathing in… One…

Breathing Out… Two…

Breathing in… One…

Breathing out… Man, I could go for a beer… Is it too early for beer?

Breathing in… Ow…

And so on.

Eventually, he noticed that the sun was getting brighter outside. He was excited to watch the sun rise over the ocean for a few minutes, until he realized that the reason it kept getting brighter and brighter outside without the sun making an appearance on the horizon was because they were flying due west and the sun had risen behind them.

“Pfft… Shit,” Alex said to himself.

“What’s that?” Bruce said.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Talking to myself,” Alex said. “How long until we get to Walli-Wo?”

“Well, it should be just about any time now. We’re in the right area, now we just have to spot the island,” Bruce said.

“In this day and age, with GPS and everything else, we have to look for Walli-Wo? We can’t just follow the magic line on your GPS there right to it?” Alex said.

“Walli-Wo isn’t a big stop for the shipping industry,” Bruce said. “And it isn’t of much military significance. The last time it’s location was mapped was well before the kind of accuracy we can get with GPS now. So the map could be off by a few miles.”

“How high up are we? Are we going to be able to see it from here?” Alex said.

“We are right about ten thousand feet about sea level at the moment. Lucky for us, it’s a nice clear morning. We should be able to spot it without to much difficulty. Then we’ll just have to scrub off the extra altitude and cruise on in for a landing,” Bruce said.

“OK, cool,” Alex said. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Look for the island,” Bruce said.

“What does it look like?” Alex said.

“An island. It’s kind of island-shaped, and mostly island-colored,” Bruce said.

“Well, I don’t want for us to land on the wrong island,” Alex said.

“No worries on that,” Bruce said. “It must be one hundred miles to the next island in any direction. That’s how they’ve managed to remain a peaceful island when they’re also one of the richest islands in the Pacific. They’re going to know we’re coming before we do. If you spot an island below us, it’s the right one.”

Alex looked down at the ocean below, and realized he had absolutely no idea how to go about searching an area so vast for a little island. He wasn’t certain how many miles it was to the horizon from ten thousand feet up, but at a guess he would have said it was “a lot.”

It was, in fact, one hundred twenty two miles to the horizon from where they were at the moment, a fact Bruce was perfectly aware of. He also knew which section of the ocean Walli-Wo was most likely to be hiding in at the moment, which is how he was able to spot it well before Alex.

Since searching for the island was keeping Alex quiet, however, Bruce kept it to himself when he spotted Walli-Wo and just started descending gently.

Once they were down to about two thousand feet above sea level, Alex pointed with excitement out the window, and said, “There it is!”

“Yep, there it is!” Bruce said. “I’m glad you finally noticed it over there. I was worried you weren’t going to realize we were landing until we were already on the ground.”

“Realize we were landing? How long ago did you spot the island?” Alex said.

“About eight thousand feet up ago. Anyway, we’re going to fly over it a few times so I can get a feel for the landing strip and what the conditions are like at the moment. Apparently, they have a windsock, at least,” Bruce said.

“Eight thousand feet up?” Alex said. He took another look out the window, and said, “Holy crap! When did the ocean get so close to us?”

“Pay attention and start looking down,” Bruce said. “We’ve got to see what kind of shape their landing strip is in, and if there are any weather conditions we can figure out from up here. I don’t want to have to try to make a tailwind landing because we weren’t able to figure out which direction the wind is coming from.”

They flew over the airstrip for the first time. Bruce noticed that it was in remarkably good condition for an airstrip that had been exposed to ocean conditions since World War Two. He also noticed that there was indeed a windsock, and that the wind was currently still. As they looped around to pass over the airstrip, he also noticed that there were no obstructions at either end of the runway.

Remarkable, considered that it had been at least sixty years since that runway was built, and the rest of the island seemed to have plenty of trees.

By way of comparison, Alex noticed that there was almost definitely an island underneath them, and he was reasonably sure that there was a big open spot where they would be able to land. His concern of what could happen to him and Bruce if something went wrong during the landing was completely overshadowed by his desire to get the hell out of that airplane and move his legs around. He had already forgotten his relief that they’d actually found Walli-Wo, and was already mentally debating between doing jumping jacks or squats when they finally landed.

Meanwhile, Bruce was making his third pass over the airstrip, and had determined that not only was it safe enough to land, but that it was going to be an exceptionally easy landing. Especially considering that it was on an island that no one, except for the people who managed the money for extremely rich people, even knew about any more.

He’d also noticed that the islanders were already gathering along the sides of the airstrip to welcome them.

“Prepare for landing,” Bruce said. “Get your seatbelt on, make sure anything you wouldn’t want to catch with your face is secured, and shut up.”

Alex checked around himself for anything that could become a projectile, but it looked like everything had been stowed.

Bruce pulled the throttle back to idle, and Alex was shocked at how quiet the world could be. After so many hours in the air, he’d become somewhat accustomed to the sound of the engine. For a minute, he worried that Bruce had killed the engine, but the propeller continued spinning, so Alex assumed it was still running.

He noticed the islanders that had come out to greet them just before they actually touched down.

Bruce eased the plane down on to the landing strip. As they rolled to a stop, he mentally patted himself on the back for greasing the landing.

“Oh my god, stop and shut this thing down so we can get out!” Alex said, by way of thanks to Bruce.

“Hold your horses, bunny boy,” Bruce said.

One of the islanders had a couple of sticks that had been painted fluorescent orange. He’d walked in front of the Cessna, and was now guiding them over to, presumably, their tie down area.

As they followed along, both Bruce and Alex looked around at the scenery surrounding them. They both observed and commented at almost exactly the same time.

“Was that a bamboo control tower?” and “Are those bamboo and palm frond hangars?”

Alex and Bruce looked at each other, equally baffled.

“Did you know about this?”

“No, did you?”

“No.”

The man guiding them led them to one of the makeshift hangars. Bruce rolled the Cessna to a stop just in front of it, and then started going through his shutdown checklist.

“Good lord man, can’t you just shut it off so we can get out?” Alex said, somewhat desperately.

“No. What you’re feeling right now is exactly the reason we use checklists – so we don’t forget something in our haste to get out of the plane,” Bruce said.

As Bruce worked through his checklist, Alex noticed the islanders gathering around the plane. He was mildly perplexed by their manner of dress – part tiki-caricature, and part Wall Street. Alex had never realized you could wear a sport coat with a grass skirt. But then, why not? It’s a new millennium.

Then Alex noticed who he presumed was the King. Lemmy. He wore a white morning coat, starched shirt, bow tie, top hat and violently orange board shorts. He was walking towards them with his arms extended, smiling from ear to ear.

“Uh, Bruce,” Alex said.

“Stop talking, I told you,” Bruce said. He was working his way through his checklist, flipping switches and repeating to himself which switch he’d flipped.

“You might want to see this,” Alex said.

“I’m busy at the moment. Whatever it is will still be there in two minutes,” Bruce said.

“Whatever it is look like King Lemmy to me, and he making his way over to us. You might want to straighten yourself up a bit,” Alex said.

Bruce glanced up and said, “shit!”

He shut down the engine as quickly as he could manage (it still took a few seconds) and hurried through the rest of his checklist.

“Landing light off, Magnetos off…” Bruce mumbled to himself.

For his part, Alex hoped that he had the right statue (he was pretty sure, but he didn’t want to be overconfident) and that it had survived the trip in pristine condition. Or that it was at least pristine enough. He hadn’t been paid yet, after all, and at this point, having been on the wrong end of several firearms, stuffed into a pink bunny suit, and stuck in a flying station wagon for nearly twenty hours, he really didn’t want anything to go wrong.

King Lemmy had reached the front of the plane, and stopped there, smiling and waiting for Alex and Bruce to get out of the plane so he could welcome them to Walli-Wo.

“OK,” Bruce said, putting away his checklist, “We’re good. Let’s get out and meet the king.”

“OK,” Alex said.

They both opened their doors, but Alex stepped out of the plane first. He wasn’t exactly sure how to introduce himself to a king, but he guessed that, “It’s so good to meet you,” would go over well.

Unfortunately, the second his feet hit the ground and he tried to support his own weight, his legs rebelled and decided the best way to pay him back was to cause Alex as much pain as possible, and refuse to hold him up.

Which meant that immediately after disembarking, Alex felt to the ground yelling, “Ow, shit, shit, ow, dammit, ow, ow!”

King Lemmy’s face fell, slightly.

Luckily, Bruce was able to recover for Alex. He simply exited the airplane, strode over to King Lemmy and said, “Thank you for your gracious hospitality in hosting us, it’s so good to be here.”

“Oh, that was classy, way better than what I’d planned on saying,” Alex said to the ground.

Chapter Sixteen is Pretty Sweet, Yes?

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Thu, 17 Nov 2016 03:34:00 +0000

Wednesday, June Fifteenth, Mid-afternoonish, tiny island time

The soldiers Alex had stumbled upon had taken a keen interest in him the moment they’d noticed him. All three had turned, ready to spring into action if needed. After they’d determined that a guy in a pink bunny suit didn’t pose too much of a threat, one of the two soldiers manning the radios stayed seated, still listening intently to his headphones. The other acted as backup to the guard, who was still pointing his rifle at Alex.

They apparently were not going to direct him to the restroom.

The guard had demanded to know who Alex was, and what he was doing there, and Alex gladly answered him.

“Alex Minor, bunny man. I got bored waiting for my pilot to be ready to take off, so I decided to explore,” Alex said.

The guard remained impassive, while the soldier standing just behind him sighed and said, “Paperwork, fucking awesome. Thanks, guy.”

He picked up a phone and said, “We have a man in a pink bunny suit we just found in the supply closet. Are you aware of an Alex Minor on base?”

He listened, then hung up the phone after saying, “Thank you.”

“Colonel Klink will be here shortly to escort you,” he said to Alex. “In the meantime, don’t move a muscle.”

“You’ve got it,” Alex said.

Alex noticed none of the soldiers in the room were wearing name tags, or indications of rank.

After waiting for twenty minutes, Alex couldn’t take the boredom any longer, and said, “So, what do you guys do down here?”

“Maintain the supply closet,” the man who’d called to report Alex said.

“It takes three of you to do that?” Alex said.

“It’s a big closet.”

“I guess so, since you guys seem to be keeping a close ear on the radios. Are there a lot of people working in the supply closet?” Alex said.

“There are enough.”

“And they keep in touch with you by radio?” Alex said.

“It’s hard to know when supplies will be urgently needed. We provide immediate service.”

“Sure, sure,” Alex said. “Skeleton crews on tiny unknown islands regularly have urgent needs for supplies. So, you guys are road men for the apocalypse, then?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You know, you’re the ones who actually have their fingers on the button, right?” Alex said.

“What button?”

“The one that fires off nuclear missiles, obviously,” Alex said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. We maintain the supply closet.”

“Right, and the supply closet is currently storing a steaming hot load of atomic death, am I right?” Alex said.

“The supply closet contains paper goods, chemicals and other items necessary to running the base.”

“And a nuke or two? Non nuclear supply closets usually just have a key, and sometimes a cranky secretary that makes sure you don’t take more than one number two pencil at a time, not three armed men that look like we’re at DEFCON 1 just waiting for a twitch,” Alex said.

The solider pointed to the guard and said, “Meet our cranky secretary.”

The guard said, “Don’t even think of taking more than one number two pencil.”

Alex laughed, “Come on you guys, how much of a threat can a man in a pink bunny suit be?”

“You look like a guy who hoards pencils to me,” the soldier said. “You know these supplies are for everybody, right?”

“Give me a break. Come on, show me the missiles! I want to see what that kind of potential energy looks like in person,” Alex said.

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about. Have you considered getting a tour of a nuclear power plant, however? Lots of potential and beneficial energy to be seen in those places.”

“You know what? I like you,” Alex said. “You’re exactly the kind of impossible asshole I love to keep bothering. And, man, can I be a bother when I put my mind to it. I mean, I’ve practically got my PhD in driving people who don’t want to tell me what’s going on nuts. In fact, just the other day…” Alex was going to continue and tell the soldiers about exactly how irritating he’d been the other day, when Colonel Klink came in and interrupted him.

“Mister Minor, why are you down here keeping these men from doing their jobs?” Colonel Klink said.

“Hey, I was just trying to find a bathroom, and then Trigger here held me at gunpoint and told me I couldn’t go anywhere until you got here,” Alex said.

“Why did you come down here in the first place?” Colonel Klink said.

“I just told you, I was looking for the bathroom,” Alex said.

“None of us are that stupid, Mr. Minor, and I know who your employer is, so I know you’re not that stupid,” Colonel Klink said.

“Wow. That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you,” Alex said. “Although, I can be pretty spectacularly stupid when I really put my mind to it.”

Colonel Klink sighed, and said, “You realize, of course, that you’re in a secret area, beyond top secret, and that my men would have been completely justified in shooting you on sight.”

“Seriously?” Alex said. He turned to the three soldiers, “You guys said this is the supply closet. What kind of supply closet is beyond top secret?”

“The kind that keeps people like you from getting more number two pencils than they need,” the guard said.

Colonel Klink looked baffled for a split second before regaining his composure.

“I don’t know what that was about, and I don’t really care. Mr. Minor,” Colonel Klink said. “Come with me. Mr. Evans is ready to leave now.”

“OK, fine…” Alex said. “Later, broskis.”

The three soldiers shook their heads and went back to what they had been doing prior to Alex’s arrival.

Colonel Klink made Alex walk up the stairs in front of him. From there, the two of them walked side by side to where Bruce was doing his pre-flight inspection of the Cessna.

“Hey Alex,” Bruce said, “Where did you get off to?”

“Supply closet. It was weird,” Alex said.

“Oooooo-kay,” Bruce said. “Well, are you about ready to go? If you haven’t, now would be an excellent time to visit the head.”

“I made sure he stopped on the way over,” Colonel Klink said. “I didn’t want him to get lost again on the way to the plane.”

“OK, cool,” Bruce said. He closed the hood of the airplane, and said, “Thanks again for the fuel and hospitality, Colonel. Give me a call the next time you’re out my way.”

“Any time, it’s always good to see an old friend,” Colonel Klink said. “Maybe don’t bring this guy the next time you come this way, though.”

“Aw, ouch. Fuck you too,” Alex said.

Colonel Klink turned around and walked away.

“Get in the plane Mr. Minor, before they decide not to let us leave,” Bruce said, quietly and more anxiously than he’d been talking to Colonel Klink. “You do realize that they don’t look fondly on people stumbling into missile silos, don’t you?”

“I knew it!” Alex said.

Chapter Fifteen Puts the Awesome in Your Sauce

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Wed, 16 Nov 2016 03:00:00 +0000

Wednesday, June Fifteenth, Pretty Damn Early, tiny island time

Alex was startled awake by a bugler playing “Reveille.” For just a moment, he was extremely confused as to how he could be back in the military, and back on base. Then he remembered where he was.

He was startled again when a cannon fired.

“Holy crap,” Alex said into the dark. “They use a cannon during Reveille here?”

He was quite surprised when someone else in the dark said, “You’re damn right. Apart from target practice and dealing with idiots that run out of gas in their Cessnas, that’s the only action any of us get on this base.”

There was some laughter from other voices in the dark.

Right, the barracks out here are still pretty primitive, Alex thought. He didn’t have the room to himself.

The overhead lights came on, and Alex squinted against the fluorescent light for a couple of minutes until his eyes adjusted again.

There were five other men in the room with him, hurrying about their morning routines. The night before, Colonel Klink had introduced him to the soldiers he was rooming with, but Alex had forgotten their names already.

“Do you get a lot of idiots in Cessnas out here?” Alex said.

“Well, not a lot, but enough. I don’t know, five a year?” one of the men said. He was shaving in a small mirror.

“That’s just the Cessnas, though. We get a lot of Bonanzas for some reason. Probably ten of those a year,” one of the others said. His head was shaved completely clean.

“Seriously?” Alex said.

“Yeah. Bonanza owners seem to think their planes can do anything. I mean, they’re nice, but be realistic…”

“I mean, you really get that many private pilots out here?” Alex said.

“Yeah. There’s a certain subset of pilot that just has to fly around the world in their own plane.” That was another voice. Alex turned to look to see who was talking. It was a guy about six feet tall, who was getting dressed already.

“Better that than climbing Everest, though,” Mr. Clean said. “I mean, have you seen the photos of people in huge lines climbing that mountain? It’s a whole weird industry.”

Another voice chimed in, “Most of them don’t show up in bunny suits, though. Thanks for that, I damn near pissed myself when you got out of that plane. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”

“Yeah, about that,” Alex said. “Have you guys got any clothes to spare?”

“Nope, sorry,” said the man who was shaving. “Colonel Klink said you’re on your own, since it takes so long for us to get provisions here. The boat only comes once a month, and special requests typically take two months or more to get here.”

“Seriously?” Alex said. “Not even some shorts and a t-shirt?”

“Colonel Klink’s orders. Sorry Fufu.”

“Excuse me?” Alex said. “My name is Alex, or Mr. Minor. I’ve served our country too, and you’d do well not to forget it.”

He felt his military voice coming back. He’d prefer not to have to shout, but on the other hand, he wasn’t about to take any shit from a bunch of scrubs on “get ‘em out of our hair on this island” duty.

“Take it easy, killer, we’re just kidding.”

“OK, so are you going to lend me some clothes?” Alex said.

“Oh, no, sorry. We weren’t joking about that. Colonel Klink said we’re specifically not allowed to give you any clothes. Not sure why he wants to see you in that bunny suit so badly.”

Alex gritted his teeth and put the bunny suit back on. He was glad the climate on the island was fairly cool, otherwise wearing that much fleece would have been intensely uncomfortable.

Going to breakfast in the mess hall had been mildly embarrassing, but the majority of the people on the base were good natured and didn’t give Alex too hard of a time. He was, however, a little peeved at Colonel Klink for refusing to allow anyone to give him something else to wear. He’d asked around, everyone gave the same answer.

After breakfast, Alex found himself with nothing to do. He hadn’t been able to find Bruce, or Colonel Klink, and all the service men and women on the island had their own jobs to get done, so they’d all vanished pretty quickly after eating.

Not having anything to do was a bad thing for Alex.

Since he couldn’t find anyone, and had been left to his own devices, he decided he might as well explore the island a bit, since (with any luck at all) he was extremely unlikely to ever visit again.

Walking from one coast of the island to the other took maybe fifteen minutes. There wasn’t a heck of a lot to see in the way of natural beauty. It was hard to say if it had ever been anything more than a small pile of rock and sand just big enough to land a plane on, but presently that’s exactly what it was. There was a sandy beach going all the way around the island, at least. He wondered how long it would take him to walk around the entire island, and guessed it would probably be less than three hours.

It was tempting, but he didn’t want to be an hour and a half’s walk away when Bruce decided it was time to leave.

So he stayed close.

Alex had been on plenty of military bases before, so there wasn’t too much here in the way of novel things to see. He decided he’d explore the buildings anyway, since he needed to kill the time anyway.

He wondered just how many people had been stationed on this island when it was truly active. It seemed like they were running a skeleton crew at the moment – just enough people to assert that this base did, in fact, belong to the United States. He wandered through an essentially empty building that seemed to be made up of long disused offices. On the top floor, in a corner office, he found the only person who worked in that building.

At the moment, she was building an intricate card castle on her desk.

Alex cleared his throat and said, “Hi.”

The woman building the card castle leapt to her feet and drew her handgun. Miraculously, her card castle remained standing.

“Who the fuck are you?” she said. Her tone of voice and volume indicated to Alex that he was going to get royally messed up if he didn’t answer that question correctly. He held his hands up, palms open and facing her.

“Alex Minor, bunny man,” Alex said. “How come everyone here keeps greeting me with the wrong end of their firearms?”

The soldier staring him down looked him over, and then holstered her pistol.

“Ah. You must be one of the Cessna idiots. I thought they’d been kidding about the bunny suit,” she said.

“That’s not how I’d put it, but basically, yeah,” Alex said. “And whom do I have the pleasure of nearly getting shot by?”

“Sergeant Tarbox,” she said.

“Well, nice to meet you, Sergeant. I’m Alex Minor,” Alex said. “So what do you do here?”

Sergeant Tarbox sighed, “Mostly, I keep this building clean. Ultimately, that’s what nearly everyone on this base does. We’re basically janitors with guns. Could be worse. At least we get to do all of the target practice we could want to do.”

“Sounds like a rough assignment, honestly,” Alex said. He was pretty sure that he’d have gone insane a week and a half into his deployment on this island.

“Well, like I said, it could be worse,” Sergeant Tarbox said. “So, what’s the deal with the costume?”

“I’d like to say it’s a long story, but it’s pretty short. I got drugged and woke up in this suit, and then the pilot I’m flying with said we needed to leave ASAP. And so, I’m here, in a bunny suit,” Alex said.

“Wow. Who did you piss off?” Sergeant Tarbox said.

“Some woman named Tiffany,” Alex said.

“Ah ha,” Sergeant Tarbox said.

“Yeah,” Alex said.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence, and then Alex said, “So, is there anything on this island I really out to check out while I’m here?”

Sergeant Tarbox shook her head no.

“We’ve got sand, and rocks, and a bit of grass here and there,” she said.

“Hmm…” Alex said. “I guess I’ll keep exploring the buildings until I find my pilot. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“No… I’ve been here on the top floor of an empty office building, making a castle out of cards. I’d venture to say I’m the last person to know about most things that happen around here,” Sergeant Tarbox said. “

“Oof,” Alex said. “I’m sorry, that sounds like a real drag.”

“It is,” she said.

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you,” Alex said. “Good luck with the rest of your castle?”

“Right, thanks,” Sergeant Tarbox said. “Good luck not dying in your goofy little Cessna when you take off again.”

“Thanks, I think?” Alex said. “Well, see ya.”

“See ya,” Sergeant Tarbox said. “Oh! Hey! If you’re exploring, keep out of the Emergency Management building. It’s condemned. Ceiling’s falling in, that kind of thing.”

“OK, thanks!” Alex said. Emergency Management? What on Earth do they have an Emergency Management building for? Sounds interesting. It must be time to go check that out.

Back outside, Alex made his way across the base, checking each building to see which one was the “Emergency Management” building. He was also keeping his eyes and ears peeled for any sight or sound of Bruce, or the Cessna. Alex didn’t think Bruce would leave without him, but he also didn’t want to spend a second longer on that island than he had to. So if he heard the Cessna fire up, he was going to get his pink-clad ass over to it with the greatest of haste.

He finally found it (if having to check three other buildings is worthy of a “finally”), a beat up looking concrete shed. The roof definitely appeared to be close to caving in on itself, and any visible bit of metal on the building was coated with a thick layer of rust.

Alex wondered if it would be locked. He also wondered how an Emergency Management office was supposed to fit in a building that couldn’t be more than twenty feet square.

He grabbed the doorknob, turned, and raised his eyebrows as the door opened easily for him. He walked through the door, and saw a very battered desk, five drawer file cabinet, desk chair and telephone.

It seemed a little odd to Alex that there was no dust on any of it.

Behind the desk, Alex noticed a stairway hiding behind a dividing wall. It led down.

They built a building with a basement on this island? Alex thought. I’ve got to see this.

Alex started down the stairs, and was about halfway down before he realized that he didn’t have a flashlight, and there were presumably no lights in the basement. At least not any that worked, considering that the building was supposed to be condemned.

He nearly tripped when the overhead lights came on in the stairway, illuminating his way down to the basement.

Alex continued down the stairs. It wasn’t until he was at the bottom that he realized that the entire building seemed to be spotless inside.

Who cleans a condemned building? Alex wondered.

He walked into the basement, and more automatic lights turned on. He seemed to be in a big empty basement, nothing more.

There was a blast door on the far wall, however. Alex couldn’t resist going over to inspect it.

One of the first things he noticed was that the hinges were well oiled. Another thing he noticed was that the paint had worn off the wheel used to open the door, but it wasn’t rusty at all.

He had to find out what was on the other side.

What he found was another stairwell. This one already had the lights on. The steps were made out of steel diamond-plate. He made his way down the stairs, relieved that the bunny slippers had soft soles, and didn’t make a sound as he took each step.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he found a small room with three men in it. Two of them sitting at a desk, intensely listening to their headsets. The other was standing just inside the doorway, holding a rifle.

To one side, there was a wooden door with a sign that said, “To bunk room.” On the far side of the room, there was a heavy steel blast door with a sign that said, “To silo.”

“Silo?” Alex said to himself, realizing a second too late that it should have been an inside thought.

The soldier with the rifle had spun and raised his rifle the second he noticed Alex. He blinked twice, and looked Alex over.

Alex guessed that if he had not been wearing a pink bunny suit, he probably would have been shot already.

He swallowed hard, and said, “Uh, hi. I’m pretty lost. Can you tell me where the bathrooms are?”

Chapter Fourteen Has Got It All Going On

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Tue, 15 Nov 2016 03:24:00 +0000

Tuesday, June Fourteenth, Around Nine O’Clock P.M. or so, tiny island standard time

When you’re surrounded by heavily armed soldiers that you seem to have irritated, time has the funniest way of slowing down.

Bruce and Alex had been staring down several jeeps full of men pointing guns at them for maybe twenty seconds before the radio came to life. During those twenty seconds, Alex had plenty of time to remember that they were, as Bruce had put it, strapped into a flying gas can. Alex didn’t care too much for thinking about what would happen if a fifty caliber bullet hit the auxiliary fuel tank in the cabin behind him and Bruce. It was hard to say if the fact that the plane’s engine was still running would have an impact on the size of the fireball they made. Alex was not eager to find out, however.

So, when someone started talking on the radio, Alex almost jumped out of the plane.

As before, he wasn’t able to understand a word of what was said on the radio, but he did understand Bruce saying “OK tower, will comply,” somewhere among all the nonsense.

The jeeps seemed to be turning around, to Alex’s surprise.

“What the hell?” Alex said.

“They’re not going far from us, don’t worry,” Bruce said. “I was just told to follow them from the runway to a tiedown.”

“Oh, good,” Alex said. “I won’t worry about the soldiers leading us away from their runway, presumably because they don’t want the burning wreckage of our plane to mar their landing strip.”

“You’ve got to relax,” Bruce said. “This is all fine.”

Alex didn’t bother to answer. He didn’t want to spend his last precious seconds on Earth arguing with a guy who doesn’t see the problem with being met on the runway by a high caliber welcoming committee. It was bad enough that he was probably about to get shot while wearing a pink bunny suit. No need to make things worse by getting shot while pissed off.

They slowly caravanned along with the soldiers off of the runway and over to a paved area that was well away from everything else.

“This can’t be good,” Alex said.

“It’s just a security precaution. They don’t want us parked next to their own fleet,” Bruce said.

“Right, because they don’t want to accidentally shoot a bunch of holes in their own aircraft while they’re lighting us up,” Alex said.

The caravan came to a stop, and one of the soldiers made it very clear that they were to shut down their engine now.

Bruce fiddled with some controls, and the airplane slowly shut down. Alex was surprised it wasn’t just a matter of turning the key to the off position. After having been in the air for so long, the silence was shocking.

Alex took off his headset while Bruce flipped various switches to their “off” positions. He had barely unbuckled his seatbelt when one of the soldiers appeared at the window next Bruce, who had just tucked his shutdown checklist back into its pocket.

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in that plane out here?” the soldier said. Alex couldn’t see the soldier’s name tag, but he spoke with an American accent. Maybe they weren’t going to get shot immediately, at any rate.

He hoped they’d let him use the bathroom before shooting him.

“Well, I’m Bruce and he’s Alex. Just out for a hundred dollar hamburger and we thought we’d drop in. Is Colonel Klink still stationed here?” Bruce said.

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to get us killed?” Alex said under his breath.

“What? That’s his name,” Bruce said.

The soldier said nothing during this exchange.

Bruce said, “Look, uh, Sergeant Kilgore, if Colonel Klink is still here, would you just let him know that Bruce Evans has just landed. He knows me.”

Sergeant Kilgore said, “Stay in your seat. I’ll be back.”

“Sergeant Kilgore? Colonel Klink? Did you bring us to the island of misfit army men?” Alex said.

“Don’t make fun of their names, Mr. Minor. David Klink and I go way back,” Bruce said.

“How about you and Kilgore? Did you paint graffiti together?” Alex said.

Bruce ignored Alex.

After twenty minutes or so of staring out the window at a whole bunch of rifle muzzles, Alex said to Bruce, “Man, I hope they hurry up and decide if they’re going to let us get out of the plane soon. I’ve been fighting off a charley horse for the last hour.”

“You’re a military guy, Mr. Minor. Even on tiny islands in the middle of nowhere, hurry up and wait is standard operating procedure,” Bruce said.

Alex laughed, despite himself.

Then they saw another Jeep approaching. There appeared to be two men in it. As it got closer, Alex recognized Sergeant Kilgore. He assumed that the other person in the Jeep with him was Colonel Klink.

He hoped he was going to be able to address Klink without laughing.

The jeep stopped close to the airplane, and Sergeant Kilgore and presumably-Klink approached.

Presumably-Klink started shouting before he got to the window. He didn’t stop once he’d reached the window.

“What kind of dumb fuck gets out to this part of the ocean in a god damned Cessna 210? There’s stupid and then there’s this. I’ve only met one person dumb enough to even try such a thing. Fella named Evans. Now there was a man who was so stupid that he should have had a warning label,” he said.

“Hey Klink, what’s happening?” Bruce said.

Still shouting, Colonel Klink said, “God damn it Evans, I’m amazed you were even able to find this speck of fly shit island. I don’t know if I should salute you or report you as a threat to national security.”

Colonel Klink looked into the plane then, and said, “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Alex Minor, retired Army,” Bruce said.

“Mr. Minor,” Colonel Klink said in acknowledgment. Then he said to Bruce, “Well I wish you’d let me know you all were coming a little sooner. We’d have cleaned this place up. Come on out of there and I’ll show you around.”

“Oh thank god,” Alex said under his breath.

He and Bruce got out of the Cessna. Alex’s legs screamed at him as he stood up for the first time again in hours.

He quickly became aware of the attention he was receiving from the soldier who still had the airplane surrounded. Alex walked around to the other side of the plane, where Colonel Klink and Bruce were shaking hands and vigorously insulting one another.

Colonel Klink turned and looked Alex up and down. He said, “Jesus, son, you left the house in that? You might actually be dumber than Evans here. What were you thinking?”

Bruce chimed in and said, “Remember Tiffany?”

Colonel Klink glanced at Bruce, and then back at Alex.

“Damn, is she still doing that? Well, that sure looks like a more comfortable suit than the one she stuffed me into…” Colonel Klink said.

Chapter Thirteen Is Here To Rock And Roll

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Mon, 14 Nov 2016 03:11:00 +0000

Tuesday, June Fourteenth, Four Forty Five P.M.

Alex had started getting a bit nervous about the flight when Bruce had compared their airplane to a flying gas can they were going to be strapped into for twenty hours.

He’d gotten even more nervous after Bruce had finished his preflight inspection of the airplane and then handed Alex a weird looking vest.

“Put this on,” Bruce had said.

“OK. What is it?” Alex said.

“Survival vest,” Bruce said.

“What do I need this for?” Alex said.

“In case you survive a water landing, obviously,” Bruce said.

Alex put the vest on without further questions.

Currently, they were in the airplane, and Bruce was doing something he called a “Run up.” He’d pulled to one side of the taxiway after they’d nearly gotten to the runway, and was now running the engine hard with the brakes on, watching the gauges. Bruce had already told Alex to stay quiet until they’d gotten to altitude, so Alex wasn’t sure what Bruce was checking.

For Alex’s part, he listened to the engine running, feeling the plane vibrating, trying to notice any sounds that seemed out of place.

He gave it up after a few seconds when he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to recognize the difference in sound between a perfectly running airplane and one that was about to crap out.

When Bruce seemed satisfied, he throttled down the engine, and then radioed the control tower. Alex had tried to catch what was being said, but he wasn’t able to understand a single word of it.

Bruce released the brakes and they rolled back on to the taxiway. They stopped again, just short of the runway. Bruce and the control tower had another conversation Alex couldn’t follow, and then they stayed exactly where they were.

“We’re waiting for a Piper Cub to land,” Bruce said. “We might be waiting a while, they’re slow. You’ll be able to see them before long if you look off to your right.”

Alex looked out the right window, but all he could see when he tried to look up was the Cessna’s wing.

“Here they come,” Bruce said.

A few seconds later, a bright yellow airplane slowly, slowly floated down out of the sky, and seemed to simply glide on to the runway. Alex watched it go by, and then take the first turn off of the runway.

There was a bit of chatter on the radio then. The only words Alex could make out were, “Take off. Good luck.”

Bruce answered the tower, and then said to Alex, “Hold on to your ass, it’s going to take us some serious effort to get off the ground with all the fuel we’re carrying.”

Alex felt less than reassured by Bruce’s announcement.

They turned on to the runway, and Bruce went to maximum throttle. The Cessna’s engine roared, and they rolled gently forward. Alex guessed they might be going almost ten miles per hour. They gained speed gradually. Alex would have described their acceleration as “glacial.”

Ordinarily, Alex didn’t get particularly excited about flying. Certainly, he enjoyed the take offs and landings, but overall, flying was much less exciting that riding his bicycle in downtown Minneapolis. Today, however, Alex’s nerves were all singing.

Earlier, Bruce had told Alex that they were so overloaded with fuel that taking off was going to take some finesse, and a good helping of luck. He’d said that if he had to, he would abort the takeoff rather than try to get off the ground if it was hopeless.

It seemed to Alex they were halfway down the runway, still slowly gaining speed. Bruce was patting the dashboard, and Alex could hear him muttering, “Come on, girl,” through the intercom.

Alex found himself wishing the plane had an “Oh shit” handle for him to grab on to. Instead, he just pressed his hands in to the top of his knees as hard as he could, and hoped that this experience was going to end without him and Bruce running around the airport in flames, having entirely forgotten to stop, drop, and roll in their panic.

The gauge that said “airspeed” was still slowly climbing. It seemed to Alex that Bruce was even getting a bit nervous.

Alex had asked Bruce how he knew when the plane was going fast enough to take off, ordinarily. Bruce had replied that the plane would start to feel light, like it wanted to take off. To the seat of Alex’s pants, it seemed like their plan was still firmly attached to the ground.

He glanced over at Bruce, and noticed that Bruce’s jaw was firmly set. Apart from that, it was impossible to read his expression, since Bruce was wearing a baseball cap and a large pair of aviator sunglasses.

There was no missing the lack of cocky self-assurance that usually clung to Bruce like drugstore aftershave the second he got into a plane, however.

Alex caught himself trying to will the plane to go faster.

It seemed as if they were getting really close to the end of the runway.

He noticed the plane shaking, just a bit. He glanced over at Bruce and noticed the barest hint of a smile. A couple of seconds later, Bruce pulled the control yoke back, and the airplane hauled itself off of the ground.

“Woo hoo!” Alex shouted, despite himself, as he watched the end of the runway pass under the plan mere seconds later.

“Shut up!” Bruce said. Alex noticed Bruce was smiling openly, though.

Looking back out the window, Alex watched as the ground fell away beneath them. About ten minutes later, Bruce and the control tower had another conversation that Alex couldn’t follow, and then Bruce said, “Get settled in, we’re going to be up here for a while.”

“How long is it going to take us to get to Walli-Wo?” Alex asked Bruce.

“Given the current conditions, I figure we’ll get there in about twenty hours,” Bruce said.

Eight and a half hours later, things were already getting pretty bad in the Cessna. For one thing, just because a person is in an airplane doesn’t mean that they no longer need to attend to certain bodily needs. And for another thing, single engine Cessna aircraft do not come equipped with bathroom facilities.

Which mean if he needed to go, Alex had to piss in a bottle. Doing so had not proven itself to be an experience Alex would recommend to others.

Another issue was that Bruce had decided that tacos from Jack In The Box were just the thing to eat before getting into an airplane for twenty hours. All of the available ventilation options were ventilating as hard as they could, but the cockpit of that plane was not a fun place to be at the moment.

Which leads into another thing Alex had never considered: flying over the ocean, after the first thirty minutes or so, is staggeringly boring. There’s nothing to look at in any direction except blue-grey water below grey-blue sky. Alex wished he’d brought a magazine or something.

Alex’s legs ached, and he found himself longing for the comfort of a coach class non-stop flight to Australia.

He and Bruce had chatted a bit, but at the moment they’d run out of things to talk about. Alex was surprised, then, when Bruce started talking. Alex couldn’t understand a word of what he’d said, except he caught the word “emergency.”

“What?” Alex said.

Bruce held his hand up to silence Alex. A moment later, the radio crackled to life and another voice said something else Alex couldn’t catch. He was pretty sure he’d heard “Niner” in there. Maybe. Whatever they said, they didn’t seem very happy to hear from Bruce.

Bruce replied the moment the other person stopped talking, a whirl of numbers and letters and codewords that left Alex hopelessly boggled.

“Thank you,” Bruce said, finally, and the radio conversation ended.

“What’s the emergency?” Alex said to Bruce. He was doing his best to stay calm, but the thought of experiencing a flight emergency in the middle of the ocean made Alex more than a little nervous. He couldn’t stand fish, and would prefer to simply not invite himself into their home.

Especially while dressed in a pink bunny suit. He could just see the headlines, “Human remains washed ashore in bunny suit, authorities remain baffled.”

“Huh?” Bruce said.

“The emergency you just radioed somebody about. What is it?” Alex said.

“Oh,” Bruce said. “I told them we’re low on fuel and the engine is running rough.”

“What?” Alex said. His heart had just leapt up his throat, and was now hugging his brain for comfort.

“Relax, Alex,” Bruce said. “We’ve got plenty of fuel and we’re running fine.”

“O.K.” Alex said. “So, why did you radio about an emergency?”

“I’ve diverted our flight slightly so we can land on a little island with a military installation there. Generally speaking, they wouldn’t be cool with us landing there, but if we declare an emergency, they’re kind of honor-bound to help out, right?” Bruce said.

“Yeah, but aren’t they going to be a little pissed when they realize we didn’t have an actual emergency?” Alex said.

“Nah,” Bruce said. “I know the base commander. We used to hit the strip clubs together back in the day. But they’ve got to log our landing, and you know how the military can be about rules and regulations. So, declaring an emergency lets their clerks do all the needed paperwork, and we get to land and stretch our legs. Everybody wins.”

“OK,” Alex said. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Bruce said. “You just wait, they’re going to be more than happy to see us.”

“OK, if you say so. A stretch will be good, for sure,” Alex said.

About ten minutes later, Alex was able to see the island on the horizon. Not much after that, he could see the runway, and very shortly after that they were on the ground.

Seconds after that, ten or fifteen jeeps full of soldiers had surrounded their plane on the runway. All of them had guns aimed at Alex and Bruce.

“Uh, Bruce, I thought you said they were going to be happy to see us,” Alex said.

Chapter Twelve Kicks Thirty Nine Kinds of Ass

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Sat, 12 Nov 2016 22:17:00 +0000

Tuesday, June Fourteenth, 5:00 A.M.

Alex’s eyes didn’t really want to open. He slowly, slowly became aware of a foul taste in his mouth. Equally slowly, he realized that he really, really had to pee. Barely conscious, he tried rolling over, curling up, and many other postures before waking up enough to realize that if he didn’t get out of bed right that second, there was a good chance he was going to wet the bed.

He clambered out of bed clumsily, and walked straight into a wall he hadn’t realized was there.

Right, not at home, he thought. Where the hell am I?

He felt around for a light switch, but didn’t have any luck. He did find another unexpected wall, but he managed to avoid walking into it with as much force as the previous one.

Alex realized that he was very warm, and that his clothes felt exceptionally comfy.

He finally found a doorway after feeling around for a few minutes. It was open, and he felt around on the wall just inside the doorway until he found a light switch. The light came on, and Alex was extremely relieved to see that it was a bathroom. A familiar one, in fact. He was back in his hotel room.

How the hell did I get here? He wondered.

Alex shambled into the bathroom, and relieved himself with his eyes barely open.

He was shocked awake when he was washing his hands before heading back to bed, and glanced at himself in the mirror.

Aside from the heavy bags under his eyes and glassy stair, what had shocked him was the fact that he was dressed in a fuzzy pink bunny suit. Complete with long fuzzy bunny ears on the hood. He looked down at himself, and noticed he was also wearing bunny slippers. Sticking out of his chest pocket (Bunnies have chest pockets? Alex wondered) was a stuffed felt carrot.

“What the fuck?” Alex said to himself.

He stripped out of the bunny PJs, and checked himself over to make sure that there weren’t any marks from something else rotten that had happened to him.

Apart from realizing that he was wearing a pink thong with a bunny face on the front, everything else seemed to be in order. Then he noticed the time, and realized he’d been unconscious for the majority of the day.

The excitement had all worn him out, and Alex realized he really, really wanted to go back to bed.

He crawled back under the covers, naked, and immediately fell back to sleep.

When Alex woke up again, it was nearly two in the afternoon.

Shit, I missed breakfast, was his first thought. His next thought was, And I am really hungry.

Alex got out of bed, and went to put on some clothes. He grabbed his duffle bag, and was dismayed to find that all of his clothing was now missing. There was, at least, a fresh pair of pink bunny boxer shorts, and some pink socks. And the rest of his stuff was there, only his clothes were gone.

He hoped that he had perhaps managed to put some of his clothes away, or left something on the floor that he could wear.

There was nothing. His only option was the bunny suit.

“Real cute, Tiffany,” Alex said to the room.

He considered his options. He could call Bruce and ask him if he could borrow some of his clothes. Bruce was a bunch smaller than Alex, though. He’d said something to Alex along the lines of “it’s easier to lose weight than to buy a bigger airplane.” It seemed to be one of his guiding principles; Bruce couldn’t have weighed an ounce over one hundred and fifty pounds. Plus he was only about five foot five. He was a little dude.

Alex suspected he wouldn’t even be able to get in to Bruce’s clothes.

He could call the front desk and explain his situation, and see if maybe they could hook him up with a personal shopper that would be willing to go buy him some clothes. He’d be stuck hanging out in the hotel until they returned, however. And he was ravenously hungry. This hotel didn’t seem to have room service, either. And with any of those options, he’d have to wear the bunny suit in order to open the door, or else answer the door in pink boxers. Alex was fairly sure no one would want to see that.

His final option was to swallow his pride, put on the bunny suit, and go about his business like he’d deliberately decided to wear a pink bunny suit.

He glanced at the clock again, felt a rumble in his stomach, and knew what he had to do.

The upside, Alex thought once he was dressed, is that a fleece onesie is really, really comfortable.

Alex had gotten his fuzzy bunny slippers on, found his wallet and put it into a fuzzy bunny pocket, and was just about ready to leave to find something to eat and some new clothes when his phone rang. It took him a minute to figure out where the ringing was coming from exactly, but then he spotted his phone across the room, next to the bed. He hurried over to it, wondering if it was Tiffany calling to gloat and, with any luck, offer to give him his clothes back.

He picked his phone up off of the nightstand, and saw that it was, in fact, Bruce calling. He answered.

“Hey Bruce,” Alex said.

“Mr. Minor, we have a perfect weather window. We need to get to the airport right now. Can you be ready to leave in five minutes?” Bruce said.

“Umm…” Alex said. He looked down at himself. “Not exactly.”

“Why not?” Bruce said, sharply.

“Two things. One is that I’m extremely hungry. The other is that Tiffany kidnapped me, drugged me, apparently stole all of my clothes, and left me here in a pink bunny suit,” Alex said.

Bruce paused for a minute, and then said, “Wow, so she did that to you too? I think we’ve all been there. Bad timing. Look, we’ve got to fly or we’re going to have to hang out here for another week. We’ll figure out something to eat on the way. You’re going to have to just wear the bunny suit.”

“Wait a second,” Alex said. “She’s done this to other people?”

“Yeah, seems to be her thing,” Bruce said. “Are you dressed? We’ve gotta go, Mr. Minor.”

“Yes, I’m dressed in a bunny suit with cute fuzzy pink slippers. So how many people has she done this to? And everyone has just accepted it?” Alex said.

“Look,” Bruce said. “You don’t start working for Mr. Darcy because you’re conventional. I assume you’ve figured that out by now. Some of us are a little quirkier than the others. I assume you’ve figured that out too. As long as the jobs get done, there’s no problem.”

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “I think getting drugged and dressed up like a toy doll is a bit of a problem.”

“Fine,” Bruce said. “Look, we’ve got a job to do, and in order to do it, we need to fly. I’m on my way over to your room now.”

Bruce disconnected the phone.

Alex considered his situation. Had the events of the last day been extremely odd? Yes. Had be been knocked out before and woken up confused in a different place than he had been before? Yes. Really, the only thing out of the ordinary for him was the bunny suit.

Bruce knocked on the door then.

Alex took a deep breath. He’d been in situations stranger than this. He could cope.

He opened the door, and Bruce looked him up and down. Without even cracking a grin, he said, “It looks to me like she’s using more comfortable bunny suits. Mine was scratchy as hell. Those slippers look super comfy too. Anyway, let’s roll. There’s a Jack in the Box on the way to the airport. I could go for some of their tacos, and you can get whatever you want there, Mr. Minor.”

Alex shrugged, grabbed his (mostly empty) duffle bag, and followed Bruce down the hall. They hopped on the elevator down to the parking garage. There was a group of people waiting for the elevator as Alex and Bruce exited. None of them laughed, or even seemed to notice the bunny suit.

Right. Most people ignore whatever it is that seems out of the ordinary, Alex thought. This is going to be no problem.

The trip to Jack In The Box played out the same way. The disinterested folks at the restaurant didn’t even look at Alex.

Alex tore into his cheeseburger and fries as Bruce drove them to the airport. He was pretty sure that he was currently eating the best meal he’d ever had. Seconds later, he’d finished and found himself wishing he’d ordered more than he had.

When they reached the airport, Bruce led Alex to one of the hangars, where they unloaded the statue from the trunk of the car. Bruce opened the hangar doors, looked inside, and sighed in a disappointed way.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

“We’re going to have to fly a Cessna 210, since the Mooney was wrecked,” Bruce said. He sounded bitter.

Alex looked into the hangar, and saw a pristine white and red airplane with a three-bladed propeller. It looked a whole bunch bigger than the Mooney. He wasn’t sure what the problem was.

“Looks pretty nice to me,” Alex said.

“Sure,” Bruce said. “It’s plenty nice if spending twenty hours or so in a minivan from the early nineteen nineties sounds like fun to you.”

Alex considered this for a moment.

“Oh, and just to make it extra special, the minivan has an extended range fuel tank that is just plopped where the back seats would normally go,” Bruce said. “We’re basically going to be in a flying gas can, with no amenities.”

“Hmm, thanks for making sure I’m looking forward to this experience,” Alex said.

“There’s no sense in bullshitting you, Mr. Minor,” Bruce said. “Anyway, let’s get the plane loaded up. By the way, right now would be an excellent time to use the bathroom.”

Chapter Eleven is Pretty Pretty Cool

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Sat, 12 Nov 2016 04:47:00 +0000

Monday, June Thirteenth, 11:00 A.M.

When he’d said, “I’ll have what you’re having,” Alex had not been expecting his… host… to return with two glasses of milk.

The mysterious woman in shadows had turned out to be Tiffany, the woman Bruce had met with the other night. She was dressed more conventionally at the moment than she had been at the hotel. Alex was mildly relieved when he realized he recognized her.

Alex was sitting at a table on a comfortable chair on the back patio of spectacular, ocean front home in San Diego. He wasn’t certain if he was in danger at the moment or not, but at least he was comfy.

To break the ice, Alex said, “So, do you kidnap all of your colleagues, or am I just getting special treatment?”

“Kidnap? I just sent a car for you,” Tiffany said.

“And your driver manhandled me into the back seat, and didn’t even speak until we got here,” Alex said.

“Ah, I see. I’m sorry about Howard, he takes his job very seriously, and he can be kind of literal. I’ll remember not to ask him to go get someone in the future,” Tiffany said.

She held up her glass of milk, and said, “And, by the way, cheers.”

Alex was a bit baffled, but he clinked glasses with her and drank a bit of the milk she’d brought out. He was surprised that it was whole milk – he didn’t think anyone actually drank that stuff after the age of 18.

He’d forgotten just how good it can be.

“So… Howard has a habit of shoving passengers into the back of his car?” Alex said.

“Yeah, he needs to be reminded about hospitality now and then. He can be a little bit too literal, like I said, but he’s very dependable and a good driver,” Tiffany said. “Drink your milk.”

Alex had another sip of the milk she’d brought him. These two were definitely an odd pair, in his opinion, but he’d become somewhat accustomed to eccentricity since he’d started working for Mr. Darcy. His colleague Megan, for example, had a predilection for having people who’d particularly pissed her off her bound and driven to the border of the next state, where they’d be let out of the car and given a coupon for the Sizzler and then left. It was kind of her trademark.

When Alex asked Megan why she did such a thing, she’d said it was, “Because fuck them, that’s why.”

Given that these were the kinds of people he worked with, he still hadn’t fully relaxed here at Tiffany’s house. People who were mildly paranoid, Alex had learned, tend to live longer.

“Well,” Alex said. “I’d sure appreciate it if you’d tell me why you’ve brought me here.”

“I heard about the weather off the coast, and assumed that Bruce would delay your flight. I thought you might like to know a bit more about where you’re going and who you’re dealing with,” Tiffany said.

Alex said, “How do you know where I’m going and what I’m doing? It seems like I’m the only person in this whole organization that is willing to talk about what I’m doing, and I haven’t told you a darn thing.”

Tiffany laughed, and said, “You told me plenty when you’d asked Bruce about, “the thing,” as you put it, in the airplane. Bruce had mentioned he was going to taking you on a long flight over the Pacific Ocean. There are only a few islands out there where a pilot can land in a Mooney and get away with it. What’s more, there are even fewer islands that would be able to afford Mr. Darcy’s recovery services. I’m guessing you’ve already figured that Mr. Darcy works for, shall we say, an exclusive clientele.”

Alex thought about the thick envelopes full of cash he was accustomed to receiving as payment.

Tiffany continued, “From there, it was easy to narrow down which islands have the kind of budget to hire Mr. Darcy’s firm, and furthermore, have the need. The Cook Islands would have the budget, but not the need. That leaves Walli-Wo. Drink your milk, Mr. Minor.”

Alex realized his jaw had dropped. Clearly Tiffany was an intellectual force to be reckoned with. He took another sip of his milk.

“That’s astounding, Tiffany,” Alex said. He then realized that calling her by her first name might be a little too casual, considering that she insisted on calling him by his last name.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, “I don’t think you’ve told me your last name. I hope you don’t mind me calling you by your first name.”

“It is, as a certain fictional British detective is endlessly quoted to have said, elementary,” Tiffany said. “And no, I don’t mind you calling me Tiffany. My last name is Dake.”

“Ms. Dake,” Alex said, and immediately realized why she was OK with having her first name used. “Tiffany, got it.”

How is it that the women working for Mr. Darcy all have such weird names? Alex thought to himself.

“Thank you,” Tiffany said. “Drink your milk, Mr. Minor.”

Alex shrugged and took another sip of milk. He noticed that it really was surprisingly good. Mental note, add whole milk to my shopping list, he thought.

“So, what do you know about Walli-Wo and your client, Mr. Minor?” Tiffany said.

“Just what was in the file Mr. Darcy gave me,” Alex said. “The U.S. military established a presence there during World War Two, which is what introduced the people living there to the modern world. I understand my client is their chief, or king, or something like that. There’s a landing strip, and a supply of fuel there. Other than that, I really only skimmed the rest of the file. Bruce and I are just dropping off the, uh, thing, and taking off right away again. I don’t see why I need to know much else, since we’re just making a delivery.”

“Drink your milk, Mr. Minor,” Tiffany said.

She continued, “Your client is King Lemmy, then?”

Alex giggled a bit, and said, “I guess that’s him.”

He looked out over the ocean, and marveled at just how spectacular the rolling waves were. He’d always enjoyed visiting the Pacific coast because of the rugged coast and the spectacular breaking waves. The sunlight was glinting and twinkling off of the waves in a particularly appealing way, and he really noticed the color of the water. Just amazing.

“Don’t laugh at King Lemmy in the presence of his people,” Tiffany said, sternly. “They utterly adore him, and he loves them in return.”

“OK, I’ll be respectful of King Lemmy,” Alex said, and fought back another snicker. Wasn’t Lemmy a rock star?

“Good,” Tiffany said. “I assume you aren’t aware of this, but King Lemmy is spectacularly wealthy, as are his people. Lemmy has, to put it mildly, shared the wealth. His people have the best medical care he can provide, abundant food, and access to as much education as they care to pursue.”

Alex tried to wrap his mind around the idea of an island utopia where no one wanted for anything, that he’d never heard of in any of his schooling, or in his professional life prior to this assignment.

“Are you pulling my leg? How has no one ever even heard of this place? You’d think it’d be all over in popular culture, or at least some corners of the internet,” Alex said.

Tiffany smiled and said, “The same way no one knows about Mr. Darcy, unless they do. They put a lot of effort into making sure no one knows about them that they wouldn’t want to know about them.”

“OK,” Alex said, “So what the heck do they do there that they have such an incredible standard of living, out in the middle of the ocean?”

“Offshore banking,” Tiffany said. “Drink your milk, Mr. Minor.”

Alex took another sip of his milk. Of course, taking care of rich people’s money was a good way of getting rich yourself, he thought. Hee hee, Lemmy. Lemmylemmylemmy…

“So,” Alex said, “What does any of this really have to do with me?”

Tiffany smiled. She said, “Why do you think King Lemmy, with all of his resources, would want that statue back badly enough to pay whatever Mr. Darcy quoted to recover it? He could just have another statue made, after all.”

Lem Lem Lemmy… Lemmmmmony Freshly Lemmy… I feel kind of weird, Alex thought.

“Sentimental value?” Alex said. Speaking seemed to surprise him.

“You might not be as stupid as you look,” Tiffany said.

“Hey…” Alex said.

Tiffany interrupted him. “Drink your milk, Mr. Minor,” she said.

He took another sip, and gave her a grumpy look. I do not look stupid, he thought. Then, she wants me.

“Sentimental value is a very good guess,” Tiffany said. Alex beamed.

She continued, “That statue, King Lemmy believes, contains the soul of one of his distant ancestors. He’d do anything to get it back. During World War Two, a soldier grabbed it as a souvenir, not thinking much of it apart from that it was kind of cool. The islanders didn’t realize it was missing until it was long gone. Why would they? Even touching those statues, outside of certain special occasions, was strictly taboo.”

Lllllllemmmon Bissscuits, Alex thought. He giggled again. Whoa, that was weird.

“Why are you telling me any of this?” Alex said. “I’m just the repo and delivery man, here.”

“Drink your milk, Mr. Minor,” Tiffany said.

Alex took another sip of milk. He was starting to feel very mellow. The ocean really was spectacular. He could just sit and watch it all day.

“I’m telling you this, because you need to know that there are other people out there that also know, and would really like to get their hands on that statue,” Tiffany said.

“Whoa, I’m not just the deliveryman, I’m the security detail as well,” Alex said, and snickered a bit, before lapsing into a serious case of the giggles. “Keep back! Lemmmmy’s Soul Statue coming through! Hey, what did you put in my milk?”

Tiffany gave Alex a coy smile. “My own secret recipe, do you like it?”

The chair Alex was sitting in was becoming more and more comfy by the second, and he felt more relaxed than he’d felt in years. Maybe ever. He wanted nothing more than to lean back and spend the rest of the week watching the waves. He struggled against it a bit, sitting forward in his chair.

“Thhannnk you for the infffformation,” Alex said. He could hear himself slurring his words, but couldn’t do anything to stop it. “But, why….”

He took a second to catch his breath. This was exhausting. A nap would be excellent.

“…Did yoou drug me?” Alex finished, enunciating as carefully as he could manage.

Tiffany leaned forward, and said, “Do you remember the other night, when we met? I was dressed a bit differently.”

Alex recalled her skin-tight dress and pink boots. He nodded, slowly.

“You looked at me like I was a hooker until you learned that I work for Mr. Darcy as well, and I didn’t appreciate it. You saw me at a very vulnerable moment. I thought I might return the favor. Sleep well, Mr. Minor,” Tiffany said.

Alex realized that he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, and the chair seemed to be enveloping him in waves of comfort.

“Sorrry abouut thaaat,” Alex said, before falling back into the chair, deeply asleep.

“Howard!” Tiffany called. “Would you get Alex back to his hotel room please?”

Chapter Ten Can't Get Enough of Your Love

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Fri, 11 Nov 2016 03:27:00 +0000

Monday, June Thirteenth, 8:00 a.m., San Diego, California

Alex had gone back to bed after getting up and showering at four in the morning, because Bruce had called his hotel room at five in the morning and said, “The weather is crap, we’re not flying today. Go see the sights instead.”

He wandered down to the breakfast room to see what they might have for him. Alex was mildly disappointed, though not surprised, that all they had were miniature boxes of cereal, an assortment of danishes in unappealing flavors, and cheap, plain bagels. There was, at least, plenty of coffee, and it was even passably good.

Alex grabbed a table by a window that had a nice view of the church across the way, and sat down with a box of Corn Pops, an unappealing danish, and a bagel with cream cheese.

He thought about what he might do with the day, since he had it to himself, as he ate his Corn Pops. He’d heard good things about the beach. He would have to take a cab to get there, though. Somehow, taking a cab to the beach just seemed… wrong. Alex wondered if the people at the front desk would be able to suggest anything to do that was within walking distance.

The danish Alex had grabbed was, indeed, completely unappealing. He managed to choke down the one bite he took, wondered who on earth would want a Marmite danish, and rinsed his mouth out with coffee. Luckily, the bagel was better than the danish had been.

There had been a steady flow of other hotel guests in and out of the breakfast room, but now it was starting to fill up. Alex refilled his coffee and decided to head up to the reception desk to see if they might have some suggestions for things to see in the area.

The front desk was less busy than Alex had expected it to be at 8:30 in the morning. He supposed that most people probably no longer go to the front desk to check out, though. He approached the desk next to the sole employee who was working, and set his coffee cup down on the counter top.

The woman behind the counter had black hair and brown eyes, and Alex guessed that she’d been working the overnight shift and couldn’t wait to get home. She gave him a perfunctory customer service smile and said, “Good morning, how can I help you?”

“Good morning,” Alex said. “My plans for the day changed, and now it seems that I’ve got the whole day to myself. I was wondering if there’s anything cool within walking distance that I should check out while I’m here in town.”

The woman behind the counter said, “You’re in the wrong part of town to be walking, my friend. Not much is in walking distance of anywhere around here. If you feel like a good long hike, you can get down to the bay by heading west. I think there are sidewalks the whole way there. You don’t have a car?”

Alex was about to tell her that no, he did not have a car, but the phone on the desk rang, and she excused herself in order to answer it. He took a sip of coffee and turned to look around the lobby while she was on the phone.

“I’m sorry?” she said. “Um, OK. I’ll ask.”

She held the phone against her chest and said to Alex, “Is your name Alex Minor, by any chance?”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yes, it is. Who’s asking?”

“I don’t know, but I think this call is for you,” the clerk said, and held the phone out to Alex.

Alex took it, and in a confused tone of voice said, “Hello?”

“Mr. Minor?” the voice on the phone said. It was a woman.

“Yes, that’s me. Who is this?” Alex said.

“A car for you has just arrived in front of your hotel. Please get in it,” the voice on the phone said.

“Hang on, who is this? Why should I?” Alex said.

Getting into strange cars with unknown women seemed risky even to him.

“Don’t delay,” the voice said, and disconnected.

“Hello? Hey!” Alex said into the phone before giving up and handing the receiver back to the woman behind the desk.

“Well,” he said, “I guess I’m not going to need any suggestions on what to do after all. Thanks for your help, though.”

“Mmm-hmm,” the woman behind the counter said. She’d already turned back to her computer and was tapping away at the keyboard.

Alex took his cup of coffee and went out the front doors. There was a silver car with darkly tinted windows parked in the driveway just in front of him. The driver of the car, complete in suit and cap, jumped out, ran around and opened one of the back doors for Alex.

Alex approached the car, leaned down and took a look in the back. The car’s interior was finished in grey leather and plush grey carpet, with dark wood accents. There was no one in the car at the moment.

“Where are you going to take me?” is what Alex was going to ask the driver, except he didn’t get a chance to. The driver shoved him, rather rudely in Alex’s opinion, into the back of the car, and shut the door.

“Hey!” Alex shouted into a face-full of exquisitely soft grey leather. He pushed himself up and smacked his head against the luxuriously cushioned headliner of the car before tumbling back into the ergonomically perfect seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the name “Bentley” embroidered in one of the seatbacks, under a winged logo.

Alex grabbed the door’s handle and pulled it, but the door wouldn’t open.

The driver got back into the car, and Alex barely noticed the sound of the engine starting.

“Hey!” Alex said. “What the hell is going on?”

In reply, the driver raised a window between the front and back of the car, isolating Alex.

“Hey!” Ales said.

He slouched back into a seat that, by itself, was more refined than anything Alex had ever owned.

Well, this is certainly the most prestigious abduction I’ve ever been on the wrong end of, Alex thought. He hoped that whoever was kidnapping him had even more luxury in mind, and less rough blanket on a thin pad on the floor in a concrete cell, when it came to his imprisonment.

Alex noticed that the neighborhoods they were passing through kept getting nicer. Eventually, as they wound their way through a neighborhood that was definitely all residential, Alex realized that they were right by the ocean. Seconds later, they were driving down a slope into an underground garage, filled with other exotic and luxurious cars. There was also an incongruous, battered Buick Century that looked as though it was still driving only because it was too stubborn to die.

The Bentley came to a stop, and Alex became aware, just barely, that the engine had been turned off.

The driver came around to the back of the car again, and opened the door for Alex. He stood, waiting impassively for Alex.

Alex got out of the car, straightened his clothes a bit, and then shoved the driver as hard as he could.

“What the fuck is your deal? Where did you bring me? And why,” Alex shouted, “aren’t you even moving when I’m shoving you as hard as I can? It’s very rude to just stand there and not even look a little ruffled when I am doing violence upon you!”

The driver cleared his throat and said, “Oh dear, it seems you may have mussed my hair. Please stop savaging me, won’t you, sir?”

A woman’s voice behind Alex said, “If you’ve gotten it all out of your system, would you please stop whatever it is you’re doing to my driver and come inside like a civilized adult?”

“Huh?” Alex said. He turned his head and looked back at where the voice was coming from. There was a doorway back there, and someone was standing in it.

Whomever it was, she was in silhouette and the only thing Alex was reasonably certain of was that it was a she.

He looked back and up at the driver, who was looking down at Alex with an expression of polite disdain.

“Uh,” Alex said to the driver. “Sorry. The adrenaline kicked in and I didn’t really realize…”

“Not at all,” the driver said. “Forgiven, forgotten.”

“Thanks,” Alex said.

Something about the driver seemed familiar.

“Say,” Alex said. “Have you got a brother?”

The driver raised an eyebrow, ever so slightly, and said, “Indeed I do, sir.”

“Is he named Harold?” Alex said.

“Yes, it is. Are you acquainted with him?” he said.

“I work with him,” Alex said.

The driver chuckled politely.

“Forgive me, sir. Harold is a butler. I don’t see how you could have worked with him,” He said.

“Ask him sometime,” Alex said.

“Indeed I will, sir,” the driver said.

The woman, whose voice Alex now recognized from the phone call, said, “If you two are done, we have some things to discuss, Mr. Minor. Please come in.”

Alex realized that he still had his hands on the driver’s shoulders and he was, in fact, still shoving against the driver. He let go and stood up squarely again.

“Um, sorry again,” Alex said.

“Think nothing of it, sir,” the driver said.

“Say, if you don’t mind telling me, what’s your name?” Alex said to the driver.

“Howard, sir,” he said.

Alex smiled and said, “Nice to meet you.”

“Indeed, Mr. Minor,” Howard said.

Alex turned and walked towards the doorway where the mystery woman was waiting, impatiently.

“Finally, Mr. Minor,” she said. “Come with me, we’ll go talk on the patio. Would you like a drink?”

This is by far the classiest set of kidnappers I’ve had to deal with, Alex thought.

Alex shrugged and said, “Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Chapter Nine Has Arrived

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Thu, 10 Nov 2016 03:03:00 +0000

Sunday, June Twelfth, Six o’clock A.M.

The night before, Alex and Bruch had driven back to the airport to see what had happened to the plane, and if things were at all salvageable. Also, Alex had been concerned about the status of statue that had still been in the plane.

Bruce and Alex were both silent when they’d gotten on to the tarmac and saw (what was left of) the plane.

Bruce was the first one to speak.

“Ho – lee shit,” he said.

The Mooney was indeed rolled over on to its roof. Both wings had been bent into shapes that weren’t especially conducive to flying. It looked as though the windows had all shattered, although none of them had broken out and left the cockpit exposed to the elements. The propeller was bent into an L shape. It looked to Alex like the door was still closed, at least.

Bruce had continued swearing and starting sentences which just trailed off into more swearing.

“Wow, this is just beyond… god damn,” Bruce said.

Eventually, some of the crew from the airport made their way over, and arrangements were made to get the plane flipped back over and moved into one of the hangars for (extensive) repairs.

“I’m going to have to get it disassembled and shipped to the Mooney specialists,” Bruce said. “Damn it.”

“Sorry, that sounds like a mess,” Alex said.

“You have no idea,” Bruce said.

They’d spent the rest of the night hanging out at the airport, waiting for the recovery crew to bring a crane and flip the plane back over. There was a lot of other damage, and Bruce’s plane wasn’t particularly high priority for the airport.

Just a few minutes before six o’clock a.m., one of the FBO employees showed up with a box of donuts and a tray with cups of coffee.

Alex and Bruce had each taken a donut and a cup of coffee.

Alex was going about nuts. He’d been dying to talk to someone all night, but no one at the airport had time to talk, and Bruce was just sitting in a sullen silence. Alex had tried to get a conversation going with Bruce, but Bruce answered all of his questions with single syllables before going back to being silent.

So, the two of them sat inside the FBO, looking out a window with their coffee, waiting.

The crane arrived at about six fifteen in the morning. Bruce, and then Alex, leapt up from the sofa they’d been sitting on and ran out to where Bruce’s plane, what was left of it, was sitting.

One of the crane crew came over to talk with Bruce. He looked to be about thirty five, and had clearly been awake all night as well. The name Zack was embroidered on the chest of his work shirt.

“Wow, that storm made a heck of a mess out of your plane,” he said.

“No shit,” Bruce said.

“Sorry bud, I’m not trying to upset you, no need to get testy,” Zack said. “Anyway, what are we doing here? Doesn’t look like this plane is going to be flying any time soon.”

“Let’s just get it upright, and bring it over to the A&P. I’m going to have to have them take the wings off and truck the whole thing to Florida,” Bruce said.

“Ouch,” Zack said. “Well, we can do that, no problem. We’ll get to work on it. It’d be great if you guys would stick close, in case we have any questions.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bruce said.

Alex was surprised at how quickly they were able to get the plane flipped back over. He’d kind of expected it to be a multi-hour project. It seemed to Alex that it didn’t take them too much longer that it would have taken to get a car hooked up to a tow truck.

He briefly wondered how many times they’d been called out to flip planes back over in order to become so proficient at it.

Alex had been briefly aware that Bruce had been on the phone while the crane crew were working on the plane, but he’d been so fascinated watching what was happening with the airplane that he hadn’t caught any of Bruce’s conversation.

And it’s not like Bruce’s conversation was any of Alex’s business anyway. Secrets.

After Bruce had gotten off the phone, he said to Alex, “I’ve got another plane arranged for us, it’ll be waiting in San Diego and ready to go. We’re going to have to fly commercial in order to get there, though, which means we’re going to have to hop on the next outbound flight from here to Dallas. From there, we’ll be able to get on another flight with Sun Country to San Diego.”

“Wow. OK, sounds good to me,” Alex said. “What time do we leave here?”

“The flight to Dallas leaves at about 10:45. We should just have time to get our stuff out of the Mooney and get ourselves over to the commercial terminal for our ride to Dallas,” Bruce said.

“How are we going to get the statue there?” Alex said.

“Carry on,” Bruce said.

“Seriously? I wouldn’t think they’d allow it,” Alex said.

“Well, it’ll have its own seat. You’re going to have to sit next to it,” Bruce said.

“We can do that?” Alex said.

“Of course. Just try not to imply in any way that the statue is dangerous when we get to security. I don’t think I need to tell you that those guys have no sense of humor,” Bruce said.

“Nope, I was already aware of that,” Alex said.

“It’s pretty much the reason I started flying my own plane,” Bruce said.

“Really?” Alex said.

“Well, that, and flying is just cool,” Bruce said. “Anyway, let’s follow them over to the A & P, and get the statue out of the plane.”

“What’s the A & P, by the way?” Alex said.

“Airframe & Powerplant. Airplane mechanics, in other words,” Bruce said.

“Ah. Got it,” Alex said.

Alex had never really noticed just how big airports are when you have to walk from one place to another. The trip over to the A&P hangar ended up being quite a hike from where they were.

It occurred to Alex that he was going to have to carry the statue from the A & P’s hangar to where ever the commercial terminal was. That is, assuming that the statue was, in fact, still in the airplane at all.

Once they’d reached the A & P, Bruce told Alex they were getting a little low on time, and suggested that Alex go and get the statue out of the plane while he dealt with the technical stuff for the airplane.

Alex got to the plane, clambered up onto the now extra oddly angled wing, and fumbled with the latch for the door for a few minutes. He knew opening the door shouldn’t be too tough, however, it was quite stubborn and refused to open with gentle persuasion. It didn’t help that every move Alex made caused the airplane to groan and move in an unsettling way.

He tried peeking in through the windows to see if the statue was still there, but he wasn’t able to see anything inside the cockpit clearly.

On the one hand, Alex didn’t want to risk doing even more damage to Bruce’s plane. On the other hand, he was worried about the statue and what kind of a state it was currently in.

Alex got a firm grip on the door and yanked with as much force as he could muster. The door opened with a horrendous screeching noise. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Bruce glance over to see what he was doing.

Alex stepped into the plane, and crouched down to see if the statue was still there, and unbroken. He’d just knelt down on the right hand seat and was leaning back when he heard another groan coming from the plane, followed by an awful, drawn out screeching metal noise. Then the cockpit rocked a bit and at almost the same instant there was a terrific crashing THUD. Alex sat back up again, and saw, to his disbelief, that the wing he’d just been standing on had just fallen off of the plane.

“Oh shit,” Alex said.

He couldn’t see Bruce, because of the spider-webbed glass. If that hadn’t been the case, Alex would have seen Bruce covering his eyes with one hand, and turning away.

After Alex had come to the conclusion that he was, for the time being, still OK, he got back to the task at hand, and climbed over the seat back to find out how the statue was doing.

To Alex’s immense relief, the statue was still wrapped up in a blanket and in the back of the plane. It was wedged into the space behind the back of the seats. It took a fair amount of wrestling to get it free (the seat adjustment levers no longer worked), but eventually it came loose. Alex unwrapped the blanket on the left-side front seat, and saw that the statue was, apparently, completely unharmed.

“Woo hoo!” Alex shouted, before he caught himself and piped down again.

He wrapped the statue back up in the blanket, and tried to figure out how he was going to get out of the plane now. He picked up the statue, and started trying to figure out if he’d be able to stand up on the seat and then jump out of the plane and on to the floor of the garage without breaking the statue or himself.

He’d just stood up on the seat when he heard a sickening groan come from underneath the plane.

“What was that?” is what Alex was going to say, except that the front landing gear had picked that moment to collapse. The plane rocked forward and down very quickly, slamming to the floor of the hangar with another loud bang.

Alex was completely baffled as to how he’d managed to remain standing, and keep his grip on the statue. However, the ground was now close enough that he just had to make a giant step out of the plane, and then he had both feet firmly on the floor, no jumping required.

“Well,” Alex said to Bruce. “I guess that went about as well as possible. Should we go catch our plane to Dallas?”

Chapter Eight is Super Great

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Wed, 09 Nov 2016 04:25:00 +0000

Saturday, June Eleventh, Six Fifteen P.M.

Alex and Bruce had landed at Kickapoo Airport in Wichita Falls, Texas, at about five thirty. Alex had helped Bruce tie down the plane, and asked when they were going to move it into a hangar for the night.

“A hangar? Why on Earth would we do that? We get a free tie down for the night since we bought fuel, and the weather looks like it’s going to be completely clear for the next several days,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, but what about the statue?” Alex said.

“We’ll throw a blanket over it, no one will even know it’s there. Besides, it’s not like we’re leaving it parked in front of a Wal-Mart. This is a secured area,” Bruce said. “Also, if they don’t have a courtesy car available for us to borrow, we’re going to have to call a cab to get to the hotel. Do you really want to load that heavy thing in and out of a cab, twice, and back into the plane?”

“OK, good point. I’m still not sure I’m comfortable leaving it though,” Alex said.

“Mr. Minor, please believe me when I tell you that it will still be here tomorrow morning,” Bruce said.

It turned out that there was a courtesy car available. Alex had not been aware that airports had such things for pilots. The employee in the office Bruce had called “the FBO” told them where they could find the courtesy car. It was waiting just outside for them.

Alex hadn’t been sure it was a better option than taking a cab. The courtesy car turned out to be an ancient Ford Crown Victoria that had clearly been a police car in its previous career, and it had seen better days. It did, at least, start without too much coaxing, and it got Alex and Bruce to the Best Western they were staying at a few miles away from the airport.

Once there, they had checked into the hotel, and each of them had a room to themselves. Alex invited Bruce out for dinner, but Bruce declined, saying he had a bit of flight planning to take care of, and was planning on ordering a pizza and going straight to bed once he’d finished.

Which is how Alex ended up in a steakhouse across the street from the hotel, sitting at the bar with a huge, frosty cold glass of Lone Star beer, and a massive porterhouse steak and baked potato. He’d been hoping there might be someone there to keep him company, but the other folks sitting at the bar were couples, and didn’t seem to even realize he was there.

So, Alex drowned his sorrows in cheap beer, and beef.

By the time Alex had finished his dinner, he figured he’d probably gained twenty pounds or so. Alex guessed it made up for the cruddy hot dog, potato chips and lemon flavored Kool Aid he’d had to make do with for lunch. One of the airports they’d stopped at en route was having some kind of event, and since they’d landed and bought fuel there, “lunch” was complimentary.

He’d paid his bill, and was walking back to the hotel when he heard a siren. There was no mistaking the sound of an air raid siren. In Minnesota, that generally meant “tornado” in this day and age. Or else “lunch time.” Alex wasn’t sure what it meant in Texas, though. Bruce had mentioned that there was an Air Force base nearby, and it was a bad thing to land there by accident. An Air Force base seemed like a likely target to him, if there really was a threat of an air raid. He decided it might be best to hustle on his way back to the hotel. The folks at the front desk would probably be able to let him know what was going on.

Inside the hotel, Alex found the staff guiding guests into one of the inner hallways, and telling them to stay away from windows.

“Hey, what’s going on? What’s the deal with the sirens?” Alex asked one of the hotel employees.

The employee, for the briefest of moments, looked at Alex as though he wasn’t certain if anyone could actually be that stupid. It would have been easy to miss. He recovered almost instantly, however, and answered Alex.

“A tornado touched down at the airport. The hallway everyone else is going into is the safest part of the building. Please join the rest of the guests there and keep away from windows until we know the storm has passed,” The employee said. He then hurried away, leaving Alex on his own.

“At the airport? Shit,” Alex said to himself. He hoped there was another, different, airport nearby that had been hit. He followed the other guests in to the hallway, since he couldn’t think of anything more useful he could do in the mean time.

He was kind of excited, actually. He’d never been anywhere near a tornado before.

The tornado shelter / hallway was not as packed as Alex had expected it to be. He wasn’t sure if that meant that the hotel wasn’t full, or if other people were just going to ride out the storm in their rooms.

He saw several families, with worried looking parents and gleeful children, some single businessmen and women, and Bruce.

With Bruce was a woman Alex hadn’t met. She had very big, platinum blonde hair, a very short, very tight red and black dress, and pink cowboy (cowgirl? Alex wasn’t sure how to classify them) boots on. Bruce happened to make eye contact with Alex then, and it was clear he really would rather not have been seen. The woman with Bruce hadn’t noticed Alex yet.

Alex suspected that this woman might be the pizza Bruce had said he was going to order. He debated between going over and introducing himself, just to mess with Bruce a bit, and just minding his own business for now so he could mess with Bruce tomorrow.

The decision was made for him when heard what sounded like a train going past, very close by. Alex felt his ears pop, and somebody yelled, “get on the floor!”

The building shook, and the roaring noise increased in volume.

Wow, my first tornado! Cool! Alex thought. I wish I could see it.

Alex heard glass breaking somewhere, which snapped him out of his thoughts. He got down on the floor and covered his head like everyone else seemed to be doing. The noise increased, and Alex was pretty sure the building was shaking.

Then, as quickly as it had started, it was done. After thirty seconds or so, someone in the hallway said, “Is that it?”

“Stay put!” Someone else said.

“Jeez, I hope my room didn’t get damaged. I had all of my sample cases in there,” yet another person said.

“Nuts to your sample cases. Is everyone OK?”

There was a small chorus of affirmative answers.

After a few more minutes, someone came into the hallway and said, “We just got notice that the storm has passed, and the tornado has dissipated. Please stay here a little longer while we check the building and make sure there hasn’t been any structural damage before you go back to your rooms.”

Alex got up from the floor, as did most of the other people in the hallway with him. He saw Bruce and the woman he was with get up. She tugged at the hem of her dress, making sure it hadn’t ridden up before checking her hair to make sure it was still suitably big.

Alex decided he might as well go over and say hi to Bruce. He wasn’t sure, but he thought it might be rude to go through a tornado and not check on each other afterwards.

He walked over, and saw Bruce stiffen for a second before relaxing again.

“Hey, are you two OK?” Alex said.

“Yes, Mr. Minor, thanks for asking,” Bruce said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Alex said.

He turned to the woman with Bruce and held his hand out, “Hi, I’m Alex. I don’t think we’ve met.”

She shook his hand, briefly, and said, “I’m Tiffany. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Minor.”

“Jeez, another formal person. I’d expect someone wearing pink boots to be OK with using first names,” Alex said.

“Mr. Minor, Tiffany is an associate of Mr. Darcy’s. In addition to flying you here, I also brought along an item she needs for her current assignment,” Bruce said.

“Oh, cool. What are you working on, Tiffany,” Alex said.

“I’d prefer not to say, Mr. Minor,” Tiffany said.

Alex sighed and rolled his eyes. “Right, right. Secrets. Everyone who works for Mr. Darcy loves their privacy.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Tiffany said.

She wants me, Alex thought.

A cell phone started to ring then. Alex, Tiffany and Bruce all took out their phones, but only Bruce answered his.

Alex watched as Bruce’s face fell.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Bruce said.

A pause.

“Well, of course it’s insured. Shit. This complicates things for me. How bad is the damage?”

Another pause. Alex saw Bruce start to chew his lip a bit.

“On it’s roof? Are you going to be able to right it? Shit. Shit. Damn it. Shit,” Bruce said.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Alex said to Tiffany. She said nothing in reply.

Totally wants me, Alex thought.

“Yeah, OK. Yeah. OK. Right. Yeah, I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Bruce said. He ended his call, and put his phone back in his pocket.

Bruce looked at Alex and said, “The storm flipped my Mooney. This is going to make things a little more challenging.”

Alex felt a little sick.

“Holy crap! Is the…” Alex said, then paused and looked at Tiffany. Secrets. “You know, the thing in the plane. Is it OK?”

“I don’t know yet,” Bruce said. “We’re going to have to head over there and find out. Let’s roll.”

“Are you coming?” Alex said to Tiffany.

“No, I’ve got everything I need. Good luck with whatever it is you’re doing. Sorry about the plane,” Tiffany said. She turned and walked away.

“I hope the courtesy car hasn’t been damaged,” Bruce said to Alex.

“Do you think they’d even notice if it had been? Seems like all should be well so long as it still runs and drives OK,” Alex said.

“Well,” Bruce said, “Yeah.”

Chapter Seven Seems Pretty Cool

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Tue, 08 Nov 2016 03:50:00 +0000

Saturday, June Eleventh, Eight Fifteen A.M.

Alex was in a bit of a rush. He’d woken up late, and was hustling to get moving in order to get to the airport in Crystal by eight forty five. He was supposed to be meeting a pilot named Bruce Evans at nine o’clock, and he wanted to leave himself a bit of time to park, and just in case he got himself lost. The Crystal airport was new to Alex, and he didn’t want to get himself lost and arrive super late.

He had stuffed a few changes of underwear and a couple of extra shirts into a duffle bag, and figured that was going to be plenty. Alex anticipated that he and Bruce were going to be spending more time flying than on the island, so having a bunch of changes of clothes didn’t seem necessary. He grabbed the duffle bag on the way out of this apartment, locked the door behind himself, and hopped on the elevator that would take him down to the parking garage.

Down in the garage, Alex hurried to his parking spot. Ordinarily, his Mustang would be there waiting for him, but he’d borrowed the Impala for a couple more days from Darcy Custom Brokers so he wouldn’t have to deal with moving the statue between cars.

Something seemed funny with the Impala. It took Alex a minute to realize what it was: the front passenger side window was missing, and there was a pile of broken glass under the car.

Alex panicked a bit then. He ran the rest of the way to the Impala to check the damage and see if anything important was missing.

The doors were all unlocked, and the glovebox had clearly been gone through. Alex noticed that his folder of compact discs was gone.

That in itself made Alex nervous – there was nothing of value in his cd case. It was mostly copies he’d made of cds so he wouldn’t wreck the originals in the car. Whoever had stolen the cds clearly hadn’t bothered to see what was in the folder before taking it. The only original cd in there was Queen’s Greatest Hits.

If they’d stolen that, would they have stolen the statue out of the trunk? Alex really hoped not.

The good news was that the trunk was still shut. Alex leaned in and pushed the trunk release button.

Nothing happened.

Alex pushed the button a couple more times, each time with the same result – nothing. He had another small rush of anxiety – if he couldn’t get the trunk open, it was going to be hard to get the hopefully still there statue out again.

He dug the key fob out of his pocket, and hit the trunk release button. He heard a mechanical click, and the trunk opened easily.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Alex said. He opened the trunk the rest of the way and looked inside.

To Alex’s great relief, the statue was still there, just where he’d left it.

Chevy’s crappy trunk release button saved the day, what do you know? Alex thought.

He tossed his duffle bag in the trunk along with the statue, and slammed the lid shut again, then hustled around to get in and start the engine.

Alex backed out of his spot without much regard for the broken glass on the floor. If the apartment’s maintenance folks hadn’t cleaned it up by the time he got back, he figured he’d go after it with a broom and dustpan.

He glanced at the clock, and was glad to see there was still plenty of time for him to get there before nine. He figured it would take twenty minutes to get to Crystal from his place, assuming everything else went OK.

A few minutes later, Alex was on the freeway headed towards the Crystal Airport. The wind rushing in from the broken window made Alex very glad that the weather was pretty warm and not rainy.

He wondered if he should try to cover up the hole where the window had been before he left the car parked for a few days. He decided he’d see how he was doing for time once he got to the airport, and cover it if he had enough time before meeting Bruce.

Alex was a bit surprised when his phone rang just as he was reaching the airport. He answered it, and tried to figure out where to park at the same time.

“Mr. Minor?” the voice on the phone said. “This is Bruce Evans. I thought I’d call and help you get the parking situation figured out.”

“Wow, great,” Alex said. “I’m just getting to the airport now.”

“Perfect timing,” Bruce said. “Come on around to the secured driveway and I’ll let you in. You can leave your car in the hangar while we’re gone.”

Wow, that works out well, Alex thought.

“OK, that would be great,” he said.

Alex reached the security gate, and saw a man in a white polo shirt, khaki shorts and a battered, navy blue baseball cap waiting next to the keypad. Alex rolled down his window, and said, “Hi, are you Bruce?”

“I sure am, Mr. Minor. Ready to fly?” Bruce said.

“I hope so,” Alex said. “You can call me Alex, by the way.”

“Thank you Mr. Minor,” Bruce said. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to keep things formal.”

“Well, whatever works for you,” Alex said.

“Let me get this gate open, and then I’ll hop in with you and guide you to the hangar,” Bruce said.

Bruce punched a sequence of numbers into the keypad, and then jogged around to the passenger side of the Impala as the gate rolled open.

“Jeez, what happened to your car?” Bruce said.

“I guess someone really, really wanted Queen’s Greatest Hits,” Alex said. “Sorry about the mess over there.”

“No worries, Mr. Minor,” Bruce said. “I’ve seen worse.”

Within seconds of getting into the airport, Alex realized he was hopelessly lost. He was glad Bruce was there directing him on when to turn, and where.

After a few minutes, the two of them reached an open hangar. A blue and white airplane that looked absolutely tiny was sitting in front of the open hangar door.

“So what are we going to be switching this plane out for before we get out over the ocean?” Alex said.

Bruce looked mildly insulted.

“Switch it out? This is a Mooney, we’re going to be flying her all the way to Walli-Wo,” Bruce said.

“With just the one engine?” Alex said.

“Waste not, want not,” Bruce said. “Mooney’s are slippery, fuel-efficient and fast. Multi-engines won’t give us much more speed, and cost a hell of a lot more to fly.”

“Yeah, but what happens if the engine dies, or something,” Alex said.

“We’ll get wet, probably,” Bruce said. “We would in most multi-engine planes too. You lose one engine over the ocean, it just means you’re going to have some more time to think about how wet you’re going to get. Anyway, quit being such a pessimist, Mr. Minor.”

Alex didn’t know how to respond.

Bruce glanced at his watch, and said, “Time’s wasting, let’s get this bird in the air. Pull right on in to the hangar and park. Your car will be safer here while we’re gone that it would be in your own garage.”

Alex parked, and the two of them got out of the car. Alex popped the trunk open.

“Great, you packed light. Good man,” Bruce said. “How much do you think this statue weighs?”

“I’m not sure, eighty pounds or so, I guess,” Alex said.

“OK, great, that’ll be no problem at all, then,” Bruce said. “Do you want some help getting this thing into the back seat of the plane?” Bruce said.

“That would be great. Will it be safe in the back seat?” Alex said.

“At least as safe as it was in your trunk,” Bruce said.

The two of them were able to get the statue bundled into the back seat of Bruce’s Mooney with only a little bit of difficulty. They tossed Alex’s duffle bag back there too. Bruce had already loaded his own stuff into the plane earlier that morning.

Once everything was in and secured, Bruce closed and locked the hangar, and said, “Have you ever flown in a small plane before, Mr. Minor?”

“No, this is a new experience for me,” Alex said.

“Well, I’ll do my best to show you the ropes,” Bruce said. “First things first, let me show you how to get in.”

Alex discovered it was mildly challenging climbing into an airplane from the wing. Bruce had made it look easy, but Alex stood there feeling foolish and trying to fold himself the right way to fit into the cockpit.

Once he was in and buckled up, Bruce leaned across Alex and shut the door.

“Forgive me invading your personal space. These doors only need a gentle touch to close, and I like to take care of them myself when I’m flying with a newbie. Some folks try to slam them shut like a car door, sets my teeth on edge,” Bruce said.

“Bear with me a moment as I go through my checklist,” he continued.

Alex sat back and watched as Bruce consulted a written list, flipping switches and pulling levers, until he finally opened a tiny window on his side of the cockpit and hollered, “Clear Prop!”

Starting the engine made the entire plane moved in a way that made Alex realize just how lightweight the plane actually was.

Bruce looked over at Alex and said, “I need your attention for a moment in order to go over my passenger briefing with you.”

He read aloud from a small notecard to Alex.

“Good morning, we’re going to have a great flight today. For your comfort and safety, please put on your god damn seatbelt and keep it on. A fire extinguisher has been placed within your reach, please apply its contents liberally to any fires in the cockpit. The emergency exit is the only exit, so in case of emergency, exit there. Unless extra exits have become apparent, in which case, use which ever exit feels best. In case of an emergency landing, please put your head between your knees. You don’t have to kiss your ass goodbye, but it never hurts. During taxiing, take off and landing, please keep your cake hole shut so I can do my job and not get us killed. Do you have any questions?” Bruce said.

“Uh,” Alex said.

“Great, let’s get this bird in the air!” Bruce said.

Chapter Six is Definitely Where It's At

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Mon, 07 Nov 2016 02:55:00 +0000

Friday, June Tenth, Eight O’clock A.M.

The office Darcy Custom Brokers kept was in a historic building in Minneapolis’s warehouse district. The hallway leading to the office had a tile floor, and the few other offices on the same floor all had green doors with frosted glass windows. The name of whoever was behind each door was painted on the window in black block letters. Every time Alex went in, he felt like he was going to pass a hard-boiled detective in a trench coat and fedora who was on his way to a meeting with a mysterious femme fatale.

Alex reached the door that was simply numbered 310, and let himself in.

“Good morning, Mr. Minor,” Megan said.

“Good morning, Megan,” Alex said.

He had tried to convince Megan to just call him Alex since very shortly after he’d started working for Mr. Darcy. And she had insisted on continuing to call him Mr. Minor. Megan was, in fact, her last name. She preferred to simply be called Megan rather than Ms. Megan.

Alex was happy to call her whatever she wanted to be called. She had saved his bacon on several occasions, and was absolutely not to be messed with. It was true that she sat behind a desk and greeted people who entered the office, but she was far more than a receptionist.

“Mr. Darcy is on an international phone call at the moment. He’ll be with you shortly,” Megan said.

“Great, thanks,” Alex said. He sat down on one of the leather chairs in the reception area, and let himself sink into it. He hadn’t slept for close to twenty four hours now, and he was starting to feel pretty wiped out.

Now that he’d wrapped up recovering the funny little tiki man statue, Alex hoped that Mr. Darcy was going to have another assignment for him. Sometimes it was a week or two between assignments, and he tended to get very, very bored if he wasn’t working. And Alex tended to get himself into trouble if he was bored.

It was his need for high stimulation levels that had gotten him the opportunity to work for Mr. Darcy, in fact. Alex had worked in a succession of office jobs after he’d gotten out of the military, and he’d gotten himself promptly fired from all of them. Typically for falling asleep on the job. Luckily, his recruiter was one of Mr. Darcy’s many connections.

“Mr. Minor,” Megan said sharply, startling Alex awake.

“Oops,” Alex said. “Sorry Megan. What’s up?”

“Mr. Darcy is ready to see you now. You can go in,” Megan said.

“Great, thanks Megan,” Alex said.

He got up from the chair he’d been dozing in, and glanced at his watch. It was now a quarter to nine, which meant he’d probably been asleep for half an hour.

The door to Mr. Darcy’s office was open, and Alex went in. Mr. Darcy greeted him immediately, as usual.

“Good morning, Mr. Minor!” Mr. Darcy said, “Did everything go well with your latest recovery?”

Mr. Darcy sat behind an enormous dark wooden desk that was bare except for his pen and notepad. His office was lined with bookshelves, and it would be easy to think that he was an attorney.

“Overall, yes, thanks. I was able to get the statue without too much difficulty once I’d tracked it down. I had a little more adventure than I was expecting getting it back here, but that’s OK,” Alex said.

“Ah, yes, I heard about your run in with the law while you were en route,” Mr. Darcy said.

“Really?” Alex said. “How did you hear about that?”

“Why do you think the state trooper let you off with a simple warning, Mr. Minor,” Mr. Darcy said.

“You got me out of that ticket?” Alex said.

“Of course,” Mr. Darcy said. “Although, not giving you a ticket was still up to the state trooper. I just asked that you be allowed to continue on your way without more delay, since you were needed here.”

“Wow,” Alex said. “Well, thanks for that. I had the craziest experience at a truck stop after that, too.

A couple of guys tried to rob them, but the employees all went full commando on them. There was a cashier in particular that seemed completely unaffected by the whole thing, you might want to consider recruiting her to work with us.”

“You must mean Sarah. She’s quite a force to be reckoned with, isn’t she?” Mr. Darcy said, chuckling.

“You mean you know her already?” Alex said.

“Of course. She and the others that work there are all associates of ours already. But thank you anyway, I’m always looking for new talent,” Mr. Darcy said.

Jeez, of course they already work for him, Alex thought. He wondered again, briefly, just how big Mr. Darcy’s network was, exactly.

“But back to the matter at hand,” Mr. Darcy said. “Did you bring the statue with you?”

“Yes, it’s down in the Impala,” Alex said.

“Excellent,” Mr. Darcy said. “I’m glad you’ve got it with you. I’m going to need you to deliver it to its rightful owner for me.”

“Sure thing, I can do that,” Alex said.

“I knew you could,” Mr. Darcy said. “I suggest you go home and get some rest, you’ve got a couple of big travel days coming up.”

He took a manila folder out of one of the drawers in his desk and handed it to Alex.

“You’ll find all the details you need in here. Tomorrow morning you’ll be meeting one of my pilots and flying to a little island called Walli-Wo,” Mr. Darcy said.

“I’ve never heard of it,” Alex said.

“I wouldn’t expect you to have heard of it before. It’s a small island in the middle of a great big ocean, and they prefer to keep their main source of income under the radar,” Mr. Darcy said.

“Drugs?” Alex said.

“Of course not,” Mr. Darcy said. “I’ve told you before, Mr. Minor, we are the good guys.”

“Right, sorry,” Alex said.

“Anyway, you’ll be flying there, giving the statue back to its rightful owner, and then flying back here,” Mr. Darcy said.

“OK, who’s the rightful owner? How am I going to find him?” Alex said.

“You’ll have a hard time missing him. I assure you that he’ll find you. He is the king of the people of Walli-Wo, and you will be treated with all the hospitality fitting a guest of the royal family while you’re there. I think you’ll quite like him, and the people of Walli-Wo adore him,” Mr. Darcy said.

“The king? For real? Like, crown and throne, issuing decrees, off-with-their-head, king? Or is he just a figurehead?” Alex said. He didn’t realize there were still actual monarchies, however small, anywhere in the world.

“For real, Mr. Minor. Please treat him with all the respect he’s due. And he’s not really the off-with-your-head type. I believe most of the time, his way of resolving matters is to hug it out,” Mr. Darcy said.

Alex started laughing, “Hug it out?”

He was about to continue, but he realized that Mr. Darcy was not laughing along with him.

“Yes, Mr. Minor,” Mr. Darcy said. “His methods may seem unorthodox, but consider that he is beloved by his subjects, and has no enemies among the other islands in his vicinity. The world would be much better off if everyone followed his lead, in my opinion.”

“Well, now that you point it out, I guess that’s true,” Alex said. “I guess I didn’t realize you were being serious. Probably because I need some more sleep.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Minor. Just be sure you don’t laugh in our client’s face if something seems amusing to you while you’re there,” Mr. Darcy said.

“You’ve got it,” Alex said.

“Thank you,” Mr. Darcy said. “Well, I imagine you’ll want to get home, get some rest, and review the information in that folder. Have you got your passport handy?”

“Always,” Alex said. “It’s all shined up and ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

“Good,” Mr. Darcy said. “You won’t need it on Walli-Wo, but if you need to stop anywhere else on your way there, or on the way back, you’ll definitely need it. Anyway, I won’t keep you any longer. Have a good day, and a good trip, Mr. Minor.”

Hang on, Alex thought. Something seems a little off here.

“Thanks, Mr. Darcy, I hope you have a good day too. Say, uh, when do I get paid for recovering the statue?” Alex said. He’d been expecting to get paid that morning. He wasn’t in dire straits, financially, but he didn’t work for free, either.

“Thank you, Mr. Minor. You get paid after you’ve delivered the statue to our client, of course. Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s it,” Alex said. He wasn’t sure if the fact that he was expected to deliver the items he’d recovered to Mr. Darcy’s clients meant he was getting more responsibility, or less. He did know better than to argue too hard though. Working for Mr. Darcy was, generally speaking, the most fun he’d ever had.

“OK, good day, Mr. Minor,” Mr. Darcy said.

“See you,” Alex said.

He left Mr. Darcy’s office.

“Have a good flight, Mr. Minor. I think you’ll enjoy flying with Mr. Evans, he’s an excellent pilot,” Megan said as he walked by.

“Thanks Megan. Have you flown with this guy before?” Alex said.

“Several times. We haven’t had a landing we couldn’t walk away from yet,” Megan said.

“Out of sight,” Alex said.

The Impala was where he’d left it, parked just down the street a short distance from the building. Alex debated swapping cars again and getting his Mustang back, and then decided that he didn’t really feel like carrying that statue around any more than he had to. It had to weigh close to eighty pounds, if not even more, and besides, every time he moved it, he risked damaging it. It was definitely best to just leave it in the Impala until the following morning.

Alex hopped back in the Impala, and drove back to his apartment to get some sleep.

Chapter Five is All Up In Your Business

noreply@blogger.com (Lucky) — Sun, 06 Nov 2016 04:03:00 +0000

Friday, June Tenth, 3:00 a.m.

Alex’s capacity for driving calmly had been exceeded thirty minutes earlier, and he was now barreling along the freeway at the highest speed he felt the Impala he was driving could handle. The Impala had seen better days, and was in just good enough shape to be easily ignored rather than noticed. It’s suspension was in dire need of an overhaul, and the steering was vague, to put it kindly.

As such, Alex was doing his best to not exceed ninety five miles per hour.

There were very few other cars on the road with him. Generally speaking, he’d see a set of taillights ahead of him, pass them, and find he had the road to himself again for ten minutes before he’d see another set of taillights.

Since he didn’t feel like he really had to pay too much attention to traffic, he didn’t notice the state trooper parked in the median. Seconds later he saw flashing lights in the distance in his rear view mirror, gaining on him. He glanced down at the speedometer, thought shit, and let off the gas. Slamming on the brakes wasn’t going to do him any favors at this point. He hoped that, perhaps, the lights belonged to an ambulance or a fire truck.

That hope was squashed, however, when the flashing lights came up directly behind him and did not pass.

Shit, shit, shit, Alex thought. He was perfectly aware that he had a terrible poker face. If the cop asked him anything about what he’d been doing, it would be immediately obvious that he was lying.

Alex hoped that the trooper would just give him a speeding ticket and let him continue on his way.

He pulled over into the break down lane and stopped. He shut off the engine, then grabbed the proof of insurance from the top side of the visor, and dug his driver’s license out.

It seemed like ten minutes before the trooper approached his car. Alex wasn’t able to see the trooper’s face, due to the flashlight he was shining at Alex.

“Good evening sir, do you know why I pulled you over tonight?” the trooper said.

“Well, when I saw your lights come on, I noticed I was going a little fast,” Alex said.

“Yes, sir, you were going ninety seven miles per hour when you passed me. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but the speed limit along here is seventy miles per hour,” the trooper said.

“Oh wow,” Alex said. He thought, ninety seven? Wow, that’s faster than I thought this thing could go.

Alex said, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t realize I was going that fast.”

“I’m going to need to see your license and proof of insurance, sir,” the trooper said to Alex.

“Sure,” Alex said, and handed them to him.

The trooper walked back to his car, and Alex waited. On the one hand, he was extremely worried that he’d just gotten himself busted for entering (he was fairly sure he hadn’t “Broken and entered,” just entered) and larceny. On the other hand, he was definitely enjoying the rush of adrenaline. He’d been getting a little sleepy during the drive, but he was wide awake now.

Alex’s “thrill issues,” as he liked to call them, were what made him uniquely suited to his new career. In situations where most people would start panicking, Alex tended to yell “wahoo!” and have the time of his life.

It seemed like the state trooper been gone for twenty minutes when he approached Alex’s window again.

“Is this your car, Mr. Minor,” the state trooper asked.

“Uh, no, it belongs to the company I work for,” Alex said. What the hell kind of a question was that? Alex wondered.

“Would you mind telling me who you work for?” the state trooper said.

“Sure, Darcy Custom Brokers,” Alex said.

“Got it. Company car, huh?” the state trooper said.

“Yes, sir,” Alex said.

“I get to deal with one of those myself,” the state trooper said, and chuckled.

Alex laughed along with him.

“So what are you doing driving a company car close to one hundred miles per hour at three in the morning?” the state trooper said.

Alex felt another rush of adrenaline, and felt his face get hot. He hoped he hadn’t just turned bright red.

“Trying to get home, sir,” Alex said.

“Late night at work?” the state trooper said.

“It seems like they all are,” Alex said. He wasn’t sure how many more vague answers he was going to be able to come up with before he had to start making up lies to explain what he was up to, and lying was not his strong suit.

“I hear you,” the state trooper said. “Have you been drinking tonight, Mr. Minor?”

“No sir,” Alex said, relieved that he’d been asked a question he could give an honest answer to.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” the state trooper said. He paused for a moment, then said, “Well, Mr. Minor, I just want to remind you again that the speed limit along here is seventy miles per hour. It sounds to me like you just want to get home after a late night, and there’s so little traffic along this stretch of road at this time of night, I know it’s easy to keep speeding up without realizing it, so I’m going to just give you a verbal warning tonight. If I catch you again, though, I’m going to have to give you a ticket, do you understand?”

He handed the insurance and Alex’s license back to Alex.

“Oh thank god,” Alex said before he realized it.

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Minor?” the state trooper said.

“Uh, I said, thank you sir. I understand, and I’ll be more careful,” Alex said. I can’t believe I’m getting away with this, he thought.

“I appreciate that, Mr. Minor. Get home safely, now,” the state trooper said.

Alex took a deep breath and exhaled after the trooper had walked away and Alex had rolled his window back up.

That could have turned ugly, Alex thought. He resolved to drive slowly the rest of the way home. He then thought, I hope the cruise control in this thing works.

After starting the car back up, and making sure he wasn’t going to pull into the path of a speeding big rig, Alex got back out on to the freeway. He saw the state trooper’s overhead lights turn off in his mirrors.

The state trooper kept pace with Alex for the next few miles, until there was a turnout where he made a u-turn and went back to his original spot (or so Alex guessed).

It turned out that the cruise control in the Impala worked just fine, and so Alex crept along at a lazy seventy miles per hour. Once the adrenaline had died down again, he realized that he was both very sleepy, and ridiculously hungry.

After a couple of miles, Alex saw a billboard for a truck stop. Apparently it had a twenty four hour McDonald’s. Seemed like it might be a good place to stop. He was sure to find some decent coffee and something edible at a truck stop.

A few minutes later, Alex rolled the Impala to a stop at the truck stop. The entire area was bathed in artificial light. When Alex got out of his car, the first thing he heard was the sound of fifty (or more) idling diesel engines. They were all lined up on the other side of the parking lot, with their lights off and engines running. Alex guessed there was probably someone sleeping in every one of those trucks.

He stretched, and started walking towards the entrance that had a McDonald’s sign. A woman wearing a very short leopard print skirt, tall black furry boots, and a knee length, sheer, red duster came out of the restaurant and walked towards him.

As she passed, she made eye contact with Alex, and said, without much interest, “Are you looking for a date?”

“Not tonight, thanks,” Alex said, and kept walking.

“Your loss,” she said.

He kept walking. Arguing with aggressive saleswomen, he’d accidentally learned, could lead to very uncomfortable discussions with their well-armed male business associates.

Anyway, he needed a large coffee and a double quarter pounder with cheese.

Inside, Alex was able to order with minimal hassle, and before long was lethargically eating his burger and fries (the coffee was still too hot to even look at directly without burning the roof of his mouth) at the least dirty table. He was surprised, in a sleepy way, by how dirty the tables were. His experience had been that most truck stops were spotlessly clean. After all, they wanted the truckers who stopped in to come back the next time they passed by. Maybe the employees slack off at three in the morning, he thought.

The burger and fries were fine, and after fifteen minutes or so, he was able to drink the coffee without burning himself too badly.

After another fifteen minutes, he’d had enough coffee and was feeling human enough that he thought it would be a good time to get back out on the road and get this night finished already.

He was dismayed, then, when he heard someone shout “Everyone on the floor!” Looking around, he saw two young white men in very baggy clothes with bandannas covering most of their faces brandishing guns over in front of the display of Hostess baked treats close to the cash registers.

Damn it, Alex thought. I just want to get out of here and get home. And, now, maybe some Twinkies.

No one else seemed to be in a very big hurry to hit the floor, so Alex stayed sitting at his table. He hoped everything would play out quickly and quietly, and that he’d be able to get on his way. Alex figured that this place had a “give them whatever the hell they want” policy, and a multitude of cameras capturing everything so they’d have plenty of evidence to give the police.

He was very surprised then, when one of the employees behind the cash registers was suddenly brandishing a shotgun. She was all of five feet tall, with dyed black hair and the coldest stare Alex had ever seen.

For the record, Alex had seen some pretty cold stares during his career.

“I suggest you boys get the fuck out of here and go home to play some video games in your mom’s basement,” the cashier said.

Holy shit, Alex thought. He wasn’t sure if he was freaked out or turned on at the moment.

“I suggest you get on the floor like we said,” one of the two thugs said, with all the brashness he could muster.

The cashier racked the slide and pointed the shotgun directly at them.

“You know, I’m not exactly sure how far the shot in this gun will spread at this range,” the cashier said. “It’s double aught buck shot, so it might not spread much at all. I’m pretty certain that I can wreck at least one of your pretty little faces, though. And I notice there’s no one behind you. Maybe you should take a hike like I suggested.”

The less brash of the thugs said, “Uh, brah… I really want to go home.”

Alex noticed several other truck stop employees carrying an assortment of weapons circling in on the two young men who’d been trying to rob the place.

Holy crap, what kind of truck stop is this? Alex thought. Since when are all the employees in these places heavily armed?

“Dude, pull up your pants and remember why we’re here,” the other thug said.

To the cashier he said, “Doll, put that thing away and give me all the cash in the register like a good girl.”

Alex was pretty sure he should look away at this point, but he was transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Oh, honey, you are in a world of hurt now,” the cashier said.

The thug laughed, and said, “How’s that, there’s two of us, and one of you?”

“No, sweetiekins, there are twelve of us, and two of you,” the cashier said.

“This was a bad idea, Tom,” the thug who’d wanted to go home said.

“Jesus, man, don’t use my name,” is what the other thug would have said, had he not just taken a thick oak billy club to the back of the head.

Instead, what he said was, “Uff,” and fell to the floor.

“Oh fuck,” the other thug said. He looked around and saw the other employees closing in. “I, I just want to go home.”

“It’s a little too late for that, bud,” the cashier said. “But don’t worry, we’ve got a nice storage closet for you and your mouthy friend to wait for the police in. Oh, by the way, drop your gun.”

The thug that was still standing looked around and saw 7 firearms in a variety of calibers, three clubs, and a couple of knives, all held by people who looked more than willing to put them to work.

“You got it,” he said, and set his gun down. He took a couple of steps away from it for good measure.

“Good boy,” the cashier said.

The employee with the oak billy club hit the thug upside the head, dropping him to the floor as well.

The cashier lowered her shotgun, and said, “Damn it, John, was that really necessary?”

“I’m afraid it was,” John said.

Wow, Alex thought. I’ve really got to tell Mr. Darcy about these folks. Seems like they might be real good fits for the organization.