Confessions of a Point Man: Redemption
~ 'I doubt I'll get used to the weather here in Washington.
Our nation's capital was built over a swamp and it's too hot and too muggy.
Everyone else seems to not even notice.
I don't remember it being this hot the last time I lived here.'
~ Arthur looked up from his small notebook when his partner joined him at the security station.
Hank Wilson was unfit for any kind of security work. He was overweight, stupid and had seen one too many action movies. He thought of himself as a hard core special forces instead of a paunchy rent-a-cop.
"Sorry about that, man." Wilson said as he slid into the seat next to Arthur.
"Maybe you need to see a doctor. I don't think a healthy man is supposed to piss that much in just eight hours." Arthur said bitterly.
"I drank about 60 ounces of soda today." Wilson said.
"Why can't you just drink water?" Arthur asked.
Wilson pulled a face and shook his head. Arthur rolled his eyes. He hated the way Wilson ate. The man didn't even eat real food. He wolfed down fried foods and sugary drinks. Every lunch hour he made a run for his favorite fast food joint and came back reeking of salt and his skin greasier than ever. It was a miracle he was even alive.
"Boy, I never get tired of looking at that cute ass." Wilson said leaning over the monitor closet to Arthur.
The Point Man straitened his body to hid the video screen of Miss Ariadne Richards from Wilson.
"Classy as hell shit to." Wilson said lustfully.
"Why don't you monitor the Harper wing?" Arthur said coldly. "That's the one with the international artwork in display. You know, the art that's getting all the threats about displaying other countries national treasures in an American museum.
"Oh who cares about them? All they are is a bunch of sculptures of queers with tiny dicks and fat women lounging around." Philips said. "Hey, what do you think about Miss Richards? You know she was a senator's daughter. Her daddy stole a bunch of money from people."
"Allegedly." Arthur corrected. "Nothing was ever proven."
"Now that pretty thing is restoring paintings at a national museum. Think some favors were called in for her?" Phillips laughed.
Arthur watched as his partner in the security booth broke open a chocolate pudding cup and stated eating it.
"I wonder if she's got a boyfriend. I mean, we see her on these security cameras all day and I always see her leave alone." Phillips went on.
"That's not our business." Arthur told him
"I'll bet she's a super freak in bed. Bet, she likes it all kind of dirty-"
"Stop talking." Arthur said.
His voice had taken on a razors edge to it.
"What? I'm just saying." Phillips laughed. "Why are you so defensive? You sweet on her or something?"
"No, just professional." Arthur said. "She's an employee here at the museum and we are here to guard priceless works of American culture. Miss Richards is only our concern if she is a security threat."
"Whatever. Gotta go to the john again." Wilson said and threw his down empty pudding cup in the trash and hefted himself out of the chair.
Arthur waited until he left, counted to ten, and turned beck to watch Ariadne in the main work room. She was working on a painting from the post modern era. A creepy looking painting of a man's distorted face. Arthur liked it, but he knew Ariadne didn't. The Point Man was glad the security cameras were in color. Ariadne looked radiant in in her grey work smock. Even with a dull color, he always thought she looked nice.
He could see why Wilson thought she was classy. Even though she held a lower position with the restoration team, she still dressed better than the rest of them. Always simple and always classic. She looked better than the curator most days. But that was her style, that was how she was raised.
He would rather have this detail alone than work with Wilson. It was the only part of the job that he hated.
~ "Very nice work, Miss Richards." Doctor Debra Godfrey said over Ariadne's shoulder. "But I feel you could be working faster. It shouldn't take you this long to finish."
"Well, there was more dust and debs from the fire. It takes as long as it takes." Ariadne started to explain.
"Im trying to determine how fast you can restore a painting. You know that is where the museum gets a lot of money. Art restoration from private collectors." Doctor Debra Godfrey said.
"I understand, but-"
"It shouldn't take this long." Doctor Debra Godfrey interrupted.
"Yes, Doctor Godfrey." Ariadne said with a resolved smile.
The curator of the museum walked away. Confidant in her victory of hurting Ariadne's self confidence. Yet again.
Ariadne looked in the corner of the restoration work room and saw the black ball camera. She gave Arthur a weak smile. Try to convince him that everything was okay.
It was almost time to leave for the day anyway and she was glad. She liked the work and the people, but she worried she wasn't doing as well as she hoped. She needed to do well here and Doctor Debra Godfrey knew it.
She carefully hung her smock up in the little changing hall and was careful to comb though her hair, straiten her complimenting statement jewelry, and smooth down her shirt.
Arthur had suggested she might want to dress more casual, but Ariadne couldn't force herself to do that.
Her whole life, she had dressed well. She could hardly go out in public in jeans and a T-shirt. Unless it was a charity thing and that was what was expected.
Everyone had to go though security checks while leaving the museum and the staff was no exception. Ariadne got in line behind the other staff and was waved though the metal detectors and other scanners. All to ensure no one was taking anything away from the museum.
"Miss Richards." Arthur said cooly when she walked past him.
She glanced and gave him a slight nod as she walked to her car. She was glad his job here didn't require him to wear a ridiculous security guard uniform. He got to dress in a suit, like he liked, and wander the halls all day. But he had earned his position as head of security. In truth, he could do much better than the museum.
She knew it would be a long time before he would be free from his work. He had to oversee the change of shift, so she started the engine to her car and pulled out of the parking lot. Glad to be going home.
~ Ariadne had bought a charming townhouse last year after her father died.
With all the investigations, hearings and IRS coming after him, she was glad she had her own money.
Still, she wasn't immune to the aftermath of her father's legacy.
It was only a matter of time before defrauded investors went after her. She had to hire a lawyer which didn't come cheap. She also had the unpleasant aftermath of killing her stalker, Mr. Eames, to deal with. Another drama that was played out in the press and which made her life hell.
She had managed to pay her legal fees and to sell her family's home and most their assets, but it left little security for her afterwards. She made sure her sister was provided for, not an easy thing to do with where she was living and how expensive it was.
With what she had left, she was able to buy the town house and start to renovate it. She had intended to remodel it, and sell it, but the work was coming along slowly and there was still too much to do. She still had to finish the downstairs bathroom, the kitchen and the basement.
Everything else was lipstick and rouge. She hoped.
She was glad to be home though. There was no place like it.
When she entered the front door, her security alarm beeped at her and she quickly punched in Arthur's birthday. A code no one would guess and it went green and stopped beeping.
She wasn't sue how helpful the alarm would be if someone really meant to do her harm, but it was nice to have.
'False sense of security.' she thought to herself.
She looked around her living room and sighed. It was small, decorated with the antique furniture she had been able to save from the auction, and admittedly, looked a little odd in her humble living room.
But she couldn't bare to part with the Georgiana wash table and mirror in the foyer. The Dresden curio cabinet full of her mother's figurine collection. Although, it did look a little mismatched next to the sofa she bought online and the Ikea bookshelves Arthur had heroically installed for her one weekend.
Bookshelves which were now overflowing with art and chemistry text books she was using for her doctorate course work. She kicked off her shoes, tucked them safely in the hall closet, and went into the dinning room. It wasn't really a dinning room just now. She had taken it over as a command base for her school work. It had her laptop, her five notebooks full of notes and made her depressed a the sight of it.
Her doctoral thesis wasn't going well. She had written about a popular subject. The recovery of stolen art from the Nazis during world war 2. But, when that awful movie came out, she feared her subject matter might be laughable. She didn't want to look stupid in front of the board, which is exactly what she would look like if she presented a thesis that had movie footnotes. She would never forgive George Clooney.
The kitchen wasn't a bad as she had thought. At least it was clean. Sure, the cabinets were painted a hideous 1976 retro green and it was too big a job to do it herself, but at least when it was repainted, had new wallpaper and new floors, appliances and new windows, it would be amazing.
She knew the bicentennial was the last time this kitchen was redone because of the bicentennial wallpaper. A thing Ariadne had never dreamed even existed.
She grabbed a fruit cup from the fridge and let the stinging sweetness of grapefruit calm her.
'Who would actually buy bicentennial wallpaper for their home?' she thought. It was complete with pictures of wooden forks and spoons to. Yuck.
Ariadne quickly pictured a family living here in the 70's. Horrible clothes, hair and make-up. Acrylic everything.
'Darling, you know what we should get? Make the kitchen really classy? Some green, yellow and brown wallpaper with a bicentennial theme to it. You know, just in case president Ford comes to visit.'
'Sounds groovy. It will go great with the formica furniture I just bought. That will never go out of style.'
Ariadne rolled her eyes. She hated this wallpaper.
She was jerked out of her time warp by a sudden noise in the living room. The security alarm hadn't gone off. The hardwood floors creaked menacingly and she could hear someone was in her house.