Time Off for Good Behavior
Actor smiled warmly at the Post Mistress. She was an older lady, her grey hair piled up neatly on her head, her round face lined with age. When he had opened this post box she had looked at him in disapproval. He was a foreigner. With his charms and small notes of thanks it had not taken long to win her over. Her face actually softened this time and the edges of her mouth may have risen a bit. That was all he asked, not gushing acceptance but a fond remembrance. He needed her on his side but that was all. She handed him his mail and with a warm smile he said "Grazie, cara signora," and he left. He had recognized the writing on the top letter and he was burning with curiosity but he would not let that show. This was a letter to be savored in private. On his first trip to London he had opened the post box and found several hotel lobbies where he could sit and relax while watching the people come and go. Old habits die hard. It was to one of these lobbies that he would go to read his mail.
The Lieutenant had surprised them last evening with twenty-four hour passes and train tickets to London. They figured that after the last missions they deserved the time off. Sometimes the cons regretted leaving prison when the missions turned bad but there was a good side. There were no passes to the city for convicts in prison.
Actor chose a chair separate from the rest beside a potted plant. This particular spot offered him a good view as well as seclusion. He fixed his pipe, lit it, and settled back to read. To make it perfect he would have liked to have a brandy but he would settle for the peace and quiet. He settled back in his chair, stretched out his long legs and opened the top letter.
Dearest Manfred,
It was so good to hear from you after so long an absence. I stopped by to see your Mother yesterday and she is doing as well as can be expected, seeing as her three sons are now away serving their country. Her rheumatism is giving her trouble though she will not admit it, stubborn to the core. Her Doctor has given her six months but then he had been saying that for years. She is a delight and I am always glad to see her. I think I am her favorite annoyance, after you, of course.
Actor had to smile. Nario was not only a tailor supremo, he was also an information dealer of the highest order. Anything he needed to know he went to Nario and he always came through. He had done so again. When the Guardian had been assigned to their team he had written to him. This was his reply. The first paragraph was about a mutual acquaintance. It was good to know she was still around keeping everyone in order though the news that her third son was now serving time was disappointing. He had had hopes for the boy. The next part of the letter he hoped would give him good news as well.
Your sister dropped by while I was there so we had a chance to chat. Her girls are a delight, so smart and pretty just like their mother though her youngest will always be of concern. She does not like to talk about him but by offering to help I was able to convince her. The medicine he has been prescribed keeps him calm but it does lose its potency with time and must be increased. It does work because she told me that if she is late giving it to him, he becomes quite agitated.
'Does not want to talk about him' meant that information was not readily available. That was why it had taken him so long to reply. The part about the medicine certainly fit. Chief had been drugged when he arrived to the point he was barely responsive. They had seen the proof of the last sentence about his response to not being given the injection though it only started with agitation and got much worse as the drug wore off. It was addictive. What was even more troublesome was that he had had to go through the with drawl process again after taking only two painkillers that the Doctor had prescribed for his headache. That meant that whatever was in the painkillers fed the addiction. Any future use, and in the business they were in, that was a certainty, meant he would re-experience that days long agony.
So far she has been able to keep him at home in spite of the Government insistence that she commit him to an institution. She knows that once this is done that she will lose all control of his care right down to his education. She only wants the best for her boy and feels she is the one to provide it seeing as the education being offered will not allow him to be as good as she thinks he can be. Maybe it is just a mother's dream but you know the way your sister can be.
The Institution was G-CAT. As if the word institution was not enough the noting of 'education' was the training part. So far there was nothing new just confirmation. The part about 'will not allow him to be as good' meant they were suppressed. There was more to Guardians than G-CAT was allowing to be told.
Her fervent hope is that with care he will remain healthy enough to reach at least forty which is better than the doctor has predicted. Though he is fragile and of diminished capacity she has managed to nurse him through his many health problems.
This part was new. The life span of less than forty could be true. Maybe Guardians did not live long. What was confusing was 'fragile' and 'diminished capacity'. Chief was a Guardian but he was not what Actor would consider fragile. Did he mean mentally fragile? Was that what the 'rage' was about? Were Guardians easily triggered into mental instability that manifested itself as uncontrollable rage and extreme violence? And the next part did not fit at all. The term 'diminished capacity' meant retarded. Chief was not retarded by any means though it was hard to judge his intelligence because he was so quiet. Why would the public be told that Guardians were fragile and retarded? Interesting.
The rest of the letter was the usual closing and code that all was well. At this moment the sun peeked out past a cloud and the room lit up. Actor looked quickly through the other letters and then decided that it was too nice a day to sit here. Grabbing his coat, hat and cane, a fine accoutrement to a gentleman's wardrobe, he was out the door.
It was a mild day, the sun was shining and people were out doing their shopping or just enjoying the respite from the cold and the bombing. He strolled along the walk, nodding to the other pedestrians, returning greetings. He had not been here before the war but he was enjoying his time here. It was a good day to be free. That word brought visions of the past that he quickly and firmly packed away. He was enjoying himself too much to dwell on the past. He smiled and turned his face to the sun. Yes it was a good day.
There were many others who thought it was a good day too. The walk was getting busier as he stepped aside to allow a young mother pushing a pram to get past. As she passed he turned to peek inside. A very young child was propped up inside looking back at him. He could not help but smile. He had no children and he had never had the desire for any. Children meant permanency, marriage and settling down with one woman. He was Italian and though he had heard the stories and seen the proof that many Italian men had a wife and a mistress he did not want that life. He wanted a woman he could love and that would love him in return. He was a romantic longing for that perfect woman. In his heart he wanted to believe she existed but as a realist he did not believe so the realist and the romantic continued to search. In the meantime he would enjoy the comforts of the women at hand.
Up ahead a police man was directing traffic. He stood and watched for a minute then saw what all the fuss was about. The Royal procession was returning to the palace. The crowd cheered and waved as the open car drew into sight. The King and Queen waved and smiled in return. The procession was moving slowly but eventually it passed. Not having urgent business Actor stood watching the thinning crowd. Finally there was only one other figure standing looking at the Palace and it was one he knew. Crossing the street he moved up beside the silent figure.
"Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been? I've been down to London to visit the Queen," quoted Actor.
"Thought I'd come see the Great White Father who was supposed to look after his children. Sure lives in a fancy place."
"Yes, it is quite grand. That is Buckingham Palace, home to the Royal Family of Great Britain."
Chief turned and looked up at the statue he had been standing beside. "That's not the Queen is it?"
"Not the present one, no. This magnificent structure is a memorial to Queen Victoria who reigned until January 1901. She was the longest reigning monarch and much loved and admired." Chief grunted. "It is such a beautiful day; shall we go for a walk?" The two men set off. Any other day he would have taken a cab but it was such a fine day and he knew that if he wished to find out anymore from the Guardian he would have to put him at easy. A walk in the park would do the job. They walked in silence, both enjoying the peace until a ball came bounding toward them from the side followed by three young boys.
""Ey, Stop the Ball!" rang out from more than one mouth.
Actor obliged with a quick move that not only stopped the ball from continuing on to the street, but directed it back toward the lads.
"You're good," shouted one boy.
"Thanks mister. Come play with us, you can be on our team." The lads, in their early teens, were grinning ear to ear. It was good to see happiness after all the misery they had seen. Actor declined their offer and the request to coach them. They thanked him, suggesting that maybe another time and ran back to their game.
"You played that before?"
"Yes. I enjoyed playing soccer. I was quite good at it."
"Looks like you still are."
As they walked they passed a place where several small children were playing. Actor stopped and watched. He was eyeing one of the mothers but no one needed to know that. To cover, he said, "Someday you will have your own."
"This ain't the old days," said Chief wistfully.
"What do you mean, the old days?" he prompted.
"The tribe's Protector used to be important. They had their pick of the women. For them it was an honor to be chosen. To white men now days we're cursed. No woman wants to be seen with a Guardian. They're scared of us."
Playing innocent but with the details from the letter in mind he turned to his companion and asked, "Why scared? Is there something we should be afraid of?" The furrows in his brow deepened. "Should I be afraid of you?"
"No." There was something in the tone and the look on his face that told Actor that Chief just might be a little afraid of him. "G-CAT controls us. They tell people that we're wild and uncontrolled unless we're drugged. They say we're dangerous."
"And you are not." It was not a question but a statement.
Chief shook his head and said sadly, "We're no different than real people."
"But why tell people…" Comprehension lit his face as they resumed walking. "I see. If you are dangerous then the Government gives these people carte blanche to do whatever it takes to make you… not dangerous. They can do whatever they like with you and call it protecting the public."
Chief clearly did not know what carte blanche meant but he understood what Actor had said. "Yeah."
The two men continued their stroll until Chief stopped. Actor wondered until he too heard the sound. Chimes sounded loud and clear and then the striking of a clock. Up ahead was a tall stone tower with a clock face near the top. Recalling the map he had seen back at the hotel he knew that this was the Clock Tower. That meant they were near another sight he wanted to see. They walked to the intersection crossed the road and turned right. A short walk took them to two magnificent stone structures. On the left was a large stone building dominated by a stone tower but what caught Actor's eye was to the right.
"Westminster Abbey, starting with the Benedictine monks in the tenth century and continuing up to this day."
"They built that, these monks?" he asked in hushed tones, obviously impressed.
"No. This building was started in the twelve hundreds by King Henry the Third."
"So it's around seven hundred years old. Wow."
"Come," he said as he made his way down the side to the front doors. Chief followed until they reached the twin towers. He stood and stared looking up to the top until, prompted by his companion, he too entered. No sooner were they inside when Chief again stopped and stared. His eyes tracing the columns that soared high then met in graceful arches overhead. At least what was left of them. There was a large gap covered with a temporary cover. Neither had to be told what had happened. Many of the buildings in London had suffered a similar fate.
"Even damaged it is beautiful isn't it?" asked a quiet voice. Both men nodded to the elderly man who had approached. His black robe identified him as belonging to the church. "It is the highest in all of England." He went on to tell of the coronations and burials of the Monarchs and important people of England. "I wish I could show you all its beauty but the workmen are working on stabilizing the roof and it is too dangerous."
"We thank you but do not be troubled. We have fulfilled a dream just to stand here inside and look at this incredible structure. My friend has come all the way from America to see this," and he stretched his arm out to encompass the interior. "He is to study architecture when he returns and I thought seeing the architectural wonders of London would be to his advantage. They have nothing to rival this in America." Actor enjoyed seeing the look on the elderly man's face as he warmed to the thought of his aiding a future builder. A quick look at his companion made it complete. Chief was looking around, admiration on his face. There was not a glare in sight. Perfect.
"Is there any chance I could hear the organ play?"
Actor's jaw almost dropped. Chief was playing right along. The elder explained that because of the workmen the instrument could not be used but if they could return for Evensong they would be welcome.
"I don't think we'll be able…"
"Of course we will be here," interrupted Actor. "We are this close. We cannot pass up this opportunity. Thank you, father. You have been most kind." The Priest nodded and smiled, pleased to have been of service.
Back out in the street Chief said, "I thought we had to be back. Besides, it's okay, I've heard organ music before."
"We shall be late," said Actor with finality as he hailed a cab. "You have not heard an organ until you have heard this one. The acoustics are incredible." The cab drew up and the two men got in. Actor told the driver they were hungry and to please recommend someplace. A short drive later and they stood in front of a classy restaurant.
"Shall we?" asked Actor gesturing to the door.
"Uh, I'm not hungry, you go ahead."
"Come along, Chief. I just got some good news and I would like to celebrate. It is not a celebration if you are dining alone. I am buying," he offered. Chief looked undecided so he leaned in a little closer and whispered, "No one knows you. You have every right to eat here. You are with me. Come." A young couple was right behind them and refusing to enter would have blocked their way so Chief followed the con man inside.
The waiter showed them to a table and gave them each a menu. Actor thanked him and ordered a bottle of wine. Chief looked uncomfortable as he opened his menu. Actor wondered if he could read.
When the waiter left Chief asked, "So, whacha celebratin'?"
That lie had been a spur of the moment thing to convince Chief but he had had time to plan his next moves. "I just came into some money." Just in case he was right about the reading he did a little coaching. "The beef sounds interesting, roast beef with potatoes and onions in a savory sauce. Do you like your beef rare or more toward the well done? How about the fish? I assume it is fresh, this close to the harbor." He lowered his menu to judge his companion's face.
"Roast beef." Chief put down the menu quickly obviously relieved.
"That is what I was thinking as well,' he said as he folded his menu and placed it at the side of the table. Do you like yours rare or well done all the way through? Meat cook rare is still pink in the middle and it is more tender. Cooking too long makes meat tough. I prefer mine rare. How about you?"
"Yeah, that's fine."
Actor was right. He was not proficient at reading and he was uncomfortable in here. When the waiter returned with the wine Actor placed their order and then he poured a small amount in a glass and raised it to the light. "Because we are having beef, I have ordered a red wine. When the wine arrives the first thing you do is look at the color and the clarity. He held it closer so Chief could see at the right angle. Note how the wine is not cloudy. Next, you move it in the glass and smell it," as he raised it to his nose. "You should not smell vinegar or what is called musty cork. The smell of the wine is called its nose." He held it out for his companion who obliged. "Then you taste." He took a sip and rolled it around his mouth before swallowing. "Here you try," and he poured some for Chief. "Take it in your mouth and feel the taste. It should have a balance of sweetness and sharpness, tannin, which is bitter and alcohol." He watched his prodigy. "This vintage is quite good. Taste how the flavors are balanced, not too sweet or too tart. Now swallow."
"Yeah." He said thoughtfully. "I never thought of that. I usually just…"
Actor added more to each of their glasses and then raised his. "To more good days like this."
Chief raised his as well. "Yeah, to good days." They touched glasses and each took a sip.
Actor could see the young man beginning to relax. A lesson on wine etiquette and a few glasses would do the trick. He proceeded to reveal some of the secrets of wine, the types and his preferences. When their meals arrived Actor made a show of placing his napkin. He explained the correct cutlery to use and how to use it. Chief was a willing listener and Actor was in his glory. It also helped his mood that he had some information on Guardians. With the atmosphere he had created and a liberal he expected to learn even more.
The con man enjoyed dining. It was a social event. Even if he was dining alone he would savor the taste, trying to identify the ingredients and spices. He enjoyed food and fine dining. From the previous meals the cons had shared Chief ate because it was there so Actor mentioned the different flavors and gave some of the ways of cooking the vegetables. The result was that the Indian slowed his eating and looked to be actually tasting the food. He was clearly tasting the wine and enjoying it. It was time for a little digging.
"Have you always known you were a Guardian or is that something that appears later?" He could see Chief was loosening up even as he topped up his glass.
"I was bout eleven or twelve."
"Was your father one too?" Actor was more than just a nickname. He knew how to use his voice and facial features to project feelings. In this case it was not an act. It had started out that way but by now he was genuinely interested. There was a whole other class of people he knew nothing about. In his business the more you knew the better off you were.
"I never knew my parents. I was given to some people," he looked away then down at his plate as if he were ashamed.
Actor caught the "given' not adopted and wondered. "I had heard that all Indian children were sent to special schools. Is that where you went?"
"I went to a regular school for a few years and then… well, I ended up… I went into town and they grabbed me." He looked sad.
"They grabbed you right off the street?" That couldn't be true, could it?
"Yeah. My hair was longer and I'd been in the sun more. They couldn't miss me."
"I take it that not all Indians are Guardians? Is that why they have special schools so they can identify anyone with your talent?" Actor wanted Chief to know he saw his ability as a talent not a curse.
"I guess. Never thought about it."
"And that is where you were identified?"
"No. I was taught how to hide it. Worked too, until I went to prison."
Actor was moving in on the information when Chief cut him off. "If we're gonna get to the church, we gotta go now."
Actor knew they had time but Chief had suddenly become uncomfortable. Talking along this line must make him uneasy. There would be other opportunities to probe. "Yes, you are right. Finish your wine and I will settle up."
Once out in the street Chief turned to him and said, "Ah," he licked his lips, "thanks for taking me to lunch and teachin' me all that stuff."
"You are very welcome. But, come, I have an idea." He set off with Chief in tow. "No one knows you here so you are starting with a clean slate. I am going to show you the other side of life." He came to a stop in front of a Tailor Shop. "Let me show you," he said enthusiastically.
Chief held back, an empty look on his face. "No." He shook his head sadly. "Seein' it from this side is bad enough. If I got to be real for an hour or a day, knowing I have to go back, it only makes it worse."
"Why do you have to go back? For as long as you are with us, you are normal, you are one of us. Come." Actor took a step toward the door.
"I can never be one a you. I belong to G-CAT. They got long arms an' they never let go." He was resigned to his fate
"If I were a betting man I would bet that we could find a way to spirit you away. G-CAT is not all knowing, all powerful." Chief did not look enthusiastic, he remained looking unconvinced. "What? You think we cannot do it?" he asked exaggerating a tone of offense.
Chief looked startled and then smiled. "No. It's just… At first you got hope and ya figure there's gotta be a way but you learn real quick that it's never gonna happen."
Always looking for alternatives Actor tried again. "What would happen if you are injured or lost your abilities?"
"Even if yer blind you can still hear."
"What happens when you get old? Do your abilities fade like in the rest of us?" Actor wondered if Chief knew that his life expectancy was short.
"I don' know." His tone indicated that he might have an idea but did not want to think about it much less talk about it.
Actor wondered if Garrison knew.
But back to the matter at hand, he dropped his voice and said, "G-CAT isn't here." Still seeing reluctance he added, "Think of it as training for a con. What if you had to convince the Germans that you were a wealthy industrialist?"
"I don't speak German."
"A wealthy American Industrialist. Come learn and play." He smiled gently. Chief resisted for a moment then surrendered. Actor's smile deepened. As Chief passed him he said. "Clothes make the man." They entered the shop and were greeted by the tailor who introduced himself as Anthony Bridgeport.
"And what can I do for you fine gentlemen. He addressed Actor, the obvious gentleman but allowed his eyes to flicker politely over to the other person. He was obviously a commoner from the lower class from his obvious uncomfortable look. Concentrating on the man of wealth he led him to the back fitting area. "A new suit maybe. Or an over coat. I have some fine…"
"I am interested in a suit for my associate, Mr. Walker. Dark, double breasted." He turned to Chief, asking, "What do you think? That will do for today?" He turned back to the tailor, "and a shirt and tie. I am afraid my associate has lost his entire wardrobe when his lodgings were destroyed."
"Very good, Sir," said Anthony. That would explain the shocked look on the associate. "Sorry to hear that. No one hurt I hope?"
The associate looked surprised at the question but recovered with a shake of his head. Must have been injured, he thought. Pulling out his samples he began to show them. "I am afraid the selection is limited, rationing, you know. I do have a soft grey flannel, but you said you wanted dark so," he pull out a dark piece, I have this in a wool-synthetic blend. Good quality and at a reasonable price."
Actor looked it over critically, felt the texture and pronounced it suitable. "Now if you would take off your coat?" suggest Anthony eagerly. Business had been slow with all the men off to war. He saw the odd look flash from the associate to the older man and wondered. Had he never been measured before? With a twinge of snobbery he labeled him 'off-the-rack'. "And the sweater too, for a better fit," he added seeing the thickness of the garment beneath.
"It stays."
Those two words set Anthony back, not so much the words but a combination of the tone of steel and the look of ferocity in his black eyes. "As you please, I'll just adjust for it." He was slightly off kilter and the way the associate was watching his every move was unsettling. "Please, Sir, if you will just stand straight. I need to measure for the length of the jacket." He had positioned the tape measure at the back of his neck and had dropped the other end down to his buttocks but the man had twisted around to see what he was doing. At his request he straightened but he was tense. This was an insult to his professionalism. He had measured many men, even boys and no one had ever suggested he was doing anything inappropriate. The man was worse than 'off-the-rack. With the jacket measurements complete he tackled the pants. The waist was measured. Mentally he calculated. The suit would look good. Shoulder pads would give him a stronger presence proportional to the waist and just by eye he was sure the height to weight was perfect. The outside seam was taken but when he tried to check the inseam the man backed off with a warning growl.
"A word, if I may?" said Actor beckoning Chief to the side.
Anthony stood frowning. He had been a tailor for over thirty years. A gentleman knew how this is done. This was further proof that he was in the presence of one of the lower class. The suit would be of the finest quality, but nothing could disguise a lack of class and breeding. Such a shame, a waste of a good suit.
"Chief, he just needs to measure the length. You certainly do not want the crotch," and he raised his voice and squeaked, "too high." There was no reaction so he continued in a normal voice, "Or so low you look like a penguin." He reached down and grasping the inseam several inches down, holding them together. He raised questioning eyebrows as he watched for a reaction. The anger relaxed so he released his pant seams and stood tall again. "Besides, think of it as poetic justice. Here is a man on his knees to you, at your service. You are the boss and he is waiting on you."
"Okay," he said reluctantly, "but he does anything an' I'll kill'm." He was deadly serious.
"Do not worry," he said as he raised his eyebrows and gave him a solemn look. "I will be right behind him."
Reassured Chief returned to his place and Anthony knelt again. 'Good, that was over' was the common thought but it was not. "Now for the shirt." Anthony stood in front and placed his hands up to the man's neck in an attempt to place the tape measure but was shoved stumbling back fortunately to be caught by the other gentleman. He was righted but the look of anger kept him away.
Actor was ashamed that he had not thought about that. He should have anticipated that reaction though to his credit this was his first real interaction with a Guardian. The man had originally come with a wide leather collar around his neck. Once Iamello had left Garrison had discarded the collar. Even now the Guardian preferred high neck sweaters that covered his neck even after the irritated skin had healed. Actor would not make that mistake again. He would also make amends.
"Are you all right?" he asked the tailor. Seeing his nod he continued, "Please forgive Mr. Walker. He was captured by the Germans and had a tough go of it. It has left him a little touchy". Turning to Chief he said, "It is all right, Mr. Walker. He needs to measure for the size of the neck of the shirt. It is important to a proper fit." The Guardian was tense and ready to bolt. He had to do something. "Perhaps Mr. Walker could try on a few shirts," then turning to Chief and speaking in a lower tone, "Or if you would like I could measure …?" Seeing Chief shake his head emphatically he knew it was time to go. "Perhaps, Mr. Bridgeport, we could pick out the shirt when we return for the fitting." Out of the corner of his eye Actor saw the distressed look on the Guardians face. He might have some difficulty getting the man here for the next step. Somehow he would manage. While he settled with the tailor Chief bolted out the door.
Actor assumed that he would be alone when he stepped out onto the sidewalk but the Guardian was waiting across the street. He crossed and mentioned that the next time they were in London Mr. Bridgeport would have the pieces basted together.
"I can't let you do it," he said angrily.
"Do what?" he asked gently. Chief was still upset.
"Pay for that suit. That's your money."
"The next time you liberate something," he said with a smile, "and don't get caught." They both remembered the counterfeit money from the box car. "Then you can buy something for me. Or if I need your services."
"I don't like owing anyone."
"You do not owe me; I have paid in advance for a future service." He said it like it was a fact. Chief thought about it and then nodded. Good, thought Actor, now I just have to get him to return.
"Besides, I don't know if I can do that fitting."
"Is it Mr. Bridgeport you have a problem with?"
"No. I just don't like people that close," he looked away and dropped his voice, "touchin' me like that."
Actor, keeping his voice low as well, asked, "Are all Guardians like that? Is your skin more sensitive, perhaps?"
"I don't know 'bout anyone else, we were kept separate, weren't allowed to talk. 'Sides it's hard to talk when yer on the drugs."
"You were kept in individual rooms."
The reply to that was a derisive snort. "If you call a cement box a room. If the Trainer didn't want me then I was put in one like in prison."
"And if he did want you?" The look he received was loathing and pain before he quickly turned away and began to walk with angry strides.
He muttered, "On the floor."
What did where he slept have to do with his reaction to being touched? Just because the trainer… The word triggered a memory; the memory of a voice heard from behind a closed door. Comprehension dropped on him as he saw the look on the Guardian's face and remembered the words, the pain, he had heard, through the door that first night when Mr. Iamello had brought Chief to their base. No wonder he balked at anyone touching him; that was not something that would be easy to forget, any touch would bring unwelcome memories. He may have had to sleep on the floor but it was what happened before that that caused his reaction.
They returned to the Abbey just in time for the service. Actor thoroughly enjoyed the music and as they left he saw that the old adage 'music soothes the savage breast' was true. The savage breast of anger in the Guardian was soothed and the two made their way to the train station in peace. When they arrived back at their base they expected Garrison to be angry. Chief had been concerned but Actor told him he would handle it. Instead all they had to face was an irate Sargent Major.