Transition Plan Chapter 103 - Searching for Jeanne Part 21
Authors Notes: Surprise everyone! A bonus chapter, one of many planned in August (trying for Tuesday and Friday this week). Rated T for attempted assault and a very adult dance by our heroine.
...
After Eleanor's and Meri's deaths, Jack was laser-focused on Jeanne to the exclusion of nearly everything else. He locked himself up in the Marconi radio room most of the day every day, emerging only for his tutoring and meals and sleep. He listened to every conversation, and marked locations of suspicious transmissions on a world map with push pins and a record of the message. His mother and father didn't ask him to do much but eat and sleep properly. He was still suffering the still-terrible pain of Eleanor's death, despite the miracle appearance to him. He just buried himself in the search for Jeanne in accordance with Eleanor's dying wish.
And then it finally dawned on him. It was something so obvious that it seemed incredible that no one, not even the best in the French and British intel business noticed. Karl-Heinz was born near Douala. His criminal career started on the streets of there until he was taken under the wings of the boss and met Margrite as a girl. In 1912 he went to Togoland with his constant cohort Gunter to run the Kamina German Army radio station. After the battle and encounter with Jack, Tarzan, and Col. Jacot, they fled Kamina back to Kamerun to Garua first and then back to Douala. Next he went Southwest Africa to Walvis Bay where they fled from from the collapse of Jaeger's crime empire. Unfortunately, for the past three years, it was like he didn't exist.
Karl-Heinz had a pattern. The hardened German criminal only went to current or former German colonies whenever he would flee. And facing defeat and capture or death, he always fled than fought.
He looked at the world atlas. There was only one former German colony left in Africa that Karl-Heinz and Gunter hadn't been to. German East Africa. All of the colonies were conquered in the Great War by France or England or Belgium.
The kidnappers had to be there. And so did Jeanne. But German East Africa, now called Tanganyika by the British conquerors, combined with British East Africa and other acquired territory, so it was enormous. Jack would need more clues to help zero in on Jeanne's whereabouts. Clayton shipping was already operating in Kenya at the port of Mombasa. Tarzan's brilliant deal maker Hugh Farnsworth, the architect of the Southwest Africa contract with Jaeger, and the Lagos, Douala, and Kenya port deals before that, had been sent forward at a new office in Dar es Salaam to get shipping contracts there. Getting there was easy, but Tangayika spread far west to Lake Victoria and through the rugged mountains and jungle lands and savannahs to the coast. Jeanne could be anywhere in those hundreds of thousands of square kilometers. But where? A thorough search with just the families would take years. And they already had looked for seven. He got the distinct impression time was running out for Jeanne before something more drastic occurred to her.
He reviewed his hypothesis with his father over breakfast. Seeing no errors in logic, they contacted Jacot by code in Nigeria on the Marconi.
Armand firmly agreed with Jack's conclusions and predictions, and he too wondered why something so obvious was not discovered years ago. But he knew the search for his daughter was a very low priority to anyone except the family. It had just been too long, and the aftereffects of the Great War and the flu pandemic still heavily impacted France and where resources and priorities had to be in the recovery efforts.
"Do we start to search the country village by village?" the Colonel offered to Tarzan and Jack.
That was going to be difficult at best, with French soldiers spread so thin with the post war drawdown in manpower.
Jack was still in control of the situation, "No, Colonel Jacot. We just watch for signs now that we know more specifically where to watch. Karl-Heinz is smart. He will find out if there is a systematic search. His contacts in every German colony seem to be widespread. If they escape Tanganyika, we will flush them off the continent. Just like Togoland, Kamerun, and Southwest Africa. When confronted all they do is flee. The only other German colony in the whole world is German Samoa and some isolated outpost in China. They could go back to Germany itself, but the war has destroyed it."
"We could never find them in any of those countries," Jacot lamented.
Armand reflected he needed Jack as an intelligence officer in the French Army or at least the Royal Army. The young man's deductive powers and sleuthing were amazing. No one had figured this out until now. In hindsight, it was obvious. The Colonel praised Jack. The young man was very satisfied with himself on this finding, but remained humble.
Everyone involved in the search focused their radio antennas on Tanganyika's populated areas. They knew enough that Karl-Heinz always did something to make a profit from some other people's misfortunes and greed. There were more than a half-dozen Marconi's listening now besides the radiotelegraphs intercepting messages. If the kidnappers used a radio, their messages would be intercepted. Then they could narrow the search to a precise location.
…
When Jack didn't monitor communications, he was practicing his archery and physical training regimen. At nearly 16 he was really in better shape than his father now, or was himself when he was 16. On other days, he was In the Castle Greystoke catacombs arsenal, searching for something. There was no way he could secretly carry a bow and arrow into the rescue. He needed something smaller to hide under clothing. He went into the ancient part of the old armory. Most of what he found was junk.
"What are you looking for?" Tarzan asked one day, seeing him looking in the dark corners of the catacombs.
"I'll know it when I find it. The items are in portraits of several of the old Counts."
After a few days searching for the artifacts he was seeking, he hadn't found anything, but he found something else first, something he was not even looking for. It was just a glint amongst the nearly acre of treasures deep in the underground tunnels and rooms.
There were two ancient wedding rings sitting all by themselves on the stone floor. Something stacked up had shifted and these two items had fallen. The man's ring fit him. It seemed the other would have fit Jeanne. But he got a catch in his throat; it would have fit Eleanor too.
Suddenly was staggered with realization and had to steady himself against a stone column.
"Omigosh!" he exclaimed aloud.
The rings were absolutely identical to the rings Jack and Jeanne wore in their dream vision of being married 20 year olds.
He looked up in praise, "Thank you, Lord."
Jack knew this was good news. He was meant to find this set of rings.
The young man smiled widely, took the woman's ring gently in his hands, and he practiced the line, "Jeanne Jacot, with this ring I thee wed!"
Jack slipped her ring on his little finger, pretending it was Jeanne's ring finger.
He said in the formal deep tones of a Pastor, "Jonathan Robert Clayton IV… you may now kiss the bride!"
Jack grabbed a musty old helmet and gave it a smooch like nuzzling Jeanne. A frightened bat flew out of it. He laughed hard at that.
…
In the middle of her afternoon dance warm ups wearing a full body black leotard, she felt Jack's thoughts. She had a tingle on her ring finger and somehow knew what it meant, which prompted her to respond in a whisper, "Oh Jack… I take thee as my wedded husband!"
She felt the imaginary wedding ceremony Jack was pretending to do with her. It was exciting.
She laughed and she whispered, "You romantic, sweet jungle boy!"
He was daydreaming of their future, and it made her feel wonderful. But she couldn't feel anything else about the dream rings. Jack felt a comforting acceptance of his practice vows back to him from her, and was delighted he could feel her acceptance and the happiness of her knowing he had rings and the desire to marry her. It was the first step back to be with her. It was also the first clear demonstration of connection in years, but that was the extent of it. The connection made them both happy once again. Jack gave a prayer of extreme thanks that for some yet unrevealed purpose being unfaithful to Jeanne had not broken their bond. Maybe it wasn't broken so that they could heal their love affair.
He joked to himself that perhaps Eleanor had interceded on his behalf to keep the connection going in order to get him and Jeanne back together, and that she had dislodged the wedding rings for him to find.
Jack had no idea the actual truth of that.
…
Something else happened with only a few more hours search. He found both items he was originally looking for. The first item, hidden among a bin of old children's toys, was a metal slingshot, much more powerful than Jeanne's makeshift version. All it needed was a new leather hand-grip and new elastic and a projectile cup. The second item was in an armory lock-box. It had the name of the deceased Count on the top of it. He he had to smash the old lock off to access it.
Jack apologized to his predecessor, "Forgive me dear Count Aasgeir. It will go to a good cause: defending a fair damsel's honor. The next Countess of Greystoke."
Then he smiled and reached almost reverently for one of the many weapons inside. He made a mental note of some he might use later. He held in his hand a compact crossbow, with a partial quiver of truly vicious razor-sharp and barbed bolts. He cut himself with barely a touch. The X-shaped holster and pack would strap to his back, could be hidden under a suit or under any kind of garment, and would not interfere with his arms and legs when he was swinging.
After he left the catacombs, Jack asked the Clayton estate blacksmith to make a dozen more of the razor edged bolts, and protective metal sheaths so he wouldn't stab himself inadvertently carrying the crossbow. That's all the magazine would hold. He needed to have the weapon fit his back without being noticed.
He refurbished the crossbow over the next few days with the blacksmith's help. They made it multi-shot and spread-shot capable. Outside of the castle, Jack and the servants set up heavy wooden boxes with images of Karl-Heinz and Gunter and backed both up with big hay bales. It frightened his mother and even distressed his father to see Jack make shot after shot at those images and invariably place two bolts in the eyes and one in the heart of the simulated human targets, and for good measure, at least one in their private parts. If he learned either or both men had defiled his precious Jeanne, he would take those shots first, he explained to his mother and father. They actually couldn't disagree with his motives.
Half the shots went all the way through the thick wood and hay bales. The compact deadly power he held in his hands was staggering. Jack wondered if even the renowned Swiss watchmakers could match the engineering in this formidable ancient weapon.
Jack dedicated the recommissioning of the crossbow before the ancestor's giant portrait with his father. In heaven, Count Aasgeir, one of the most ancient of all the Clayton clan, was proud of his distant descendant and the honor of the Greystoke that Jack carried in his heart into another generation. Jack was very surprised to learn that the slingshot he found belonged to the ancestor's spouse to defend herself in barbaric times and saw it in the background of their portrait. Jack knew there was no coincidence in that either. The women of Greystoke were almost invariably fighters in one way or another. Jeanne would be no different in that regard.
It seemed like things were aligning on purpose for this third rescue attempt. He built up his already powerful upper body strength and practiced carrying a body in his arms by holding 200 pound bags of sand in his arms while running jumping, running, leaping and even swinging with his prehensile feet. This way, at Jeanne's mother's estimate that she actually weighed 110 pounds at her age, carrying her would be easy. He imagined he might have to rescue her bound and gagged or unconscious. The most difficult thing he had to master was slinging the bag over his shoulder and firing the crossbow on the run. But he did.
Jack shot at the targets – with and without the heavy bags - from every possible angle and position, running, walking, and jumping, on horseback, and swinging from a rope, simulating a vine. After a few weeks, he never missed the triple dismembering and fatal shots. After each practice, Jane was afraid to look into the flames of revenge burning in his resolute eyes.
In a short time Jack would be of age, and he knew what he really wanted for his present. He needed something else first. A sign. Any sign from Jeanne. Hopefully another connection. But if not, he developed a search plan for the major cities in Tanganyika based on police crime records he had pieced together from old German newspapers. He'd start in the most crime-ridden cities and towns, especially if they were harbor towns. It was the kidnappers' pattern from their youth. Where there were high levels of international commerce, that's where Karl-Heinz went to make an illegal deal.
Jack contacted Duke and Duchess DunBroch by phone.
"It's so good to hear from you, son," the Duke answered. It made him feel good that Fergus called him 'son'.
"How are you, Duke and Duchess?"
"Well, Jack, you know we are still in deep mourning, and we're just barely coping. The black bunting will be up for some time. How about you?"
"Like you, not a day goes by that I don't think of Eleanor and Meri."
"I have good news for you boy. I've penned the letter to Jeanne like I promised."
"May I come by and get it? And… um… I want to visit her… memorial."
He couldn't keep his vow of never going back again. Her memory was still too vivid. He needed to touch her stone even if he couldn't touch her.
"Of course dear boy. You are always welcome there. No matter what day or time. She was yours, son."
That was a relief.
Jack rode by to see them and pick it up. The letter was sealed and he planned to keep it that way. He placed the letter in a weather-proof part of the crossbow quiver back pack he added along with other special, secret pockets. He already packed the refurbished slingshot and metal bb shots, her old Nigerian 'going steady' bracelet, and the rings. Each would be hopefully presented to her in time as they rebuilt their relationship. He was optimistic they would actually have a relationship. He wanted to be ready to go on a moment's notice.
He shared something hesitantly, "Duke and Duchess. I'd like to share something with you."
"What Jack?"
"Something happened that's… really hard to explain. Eleanor reached out to me from heaven. I saw her. I'd like to share what happened with you."
The Duchess lost it.
The Duke was kind but firm, "Son, I know you probably saw something. I know you have some kind of special gift of communication with spiritual things. Eleanor explained to us that what you have is a lot like what our family went through millennia ago. But I don't think we're ready for that. Another time perhaps, please. It's just still too hard for us."
"OK, perhaps after I get back from Africa? I think I've located where Jeanne might be with her kidnappers."
The Duchess composed herself and offered, "I think we can handle it by then. Jack, dear. May there be many blessings on your safe trip, and that you and she are happy to be back together. I know Eleanor would have wanted it that way for you two."
"I… I must go, now."
"Farewell Jack, we will be thinking about you."
The Duchess desperately wanted to tell Jack she loved him like a son, but that would be too complicated, so she held back, though it was eating her up inside. Eleanor was gone, and he was already looking ahead to a new life with Jeanne and having a new mother and father in law.
He hugged them both. In another life, he would be hugging his mother and father in law, but he could not bring himself to admit it to them.
It was difficult for them all.
He went directly to Eleanor's grave. He remembered the day not long ago that he was the last to walk away from her grave when all the others departed. He picked a yellow rose from the garden and placed it on the still-fresh mound in her honor, and dropped to his knees in prayer. They had their first picnic right here on the garden bench behind him. It was still all too fresh in his mind, and he thanked God for the vision that would always sustain him when he thought of her and their baby girl. While he would always love Jeanne and be totally devoted to her, he could silently cherish Eleanor's and Meri's memories.
The Duke and Duchess looked from afar fondly with sadness and compassion in their hearts for the young man who'd been their son-in-law for only an instant, "He's only 16 but how much sorrow this boy had to endure. He will be a good husband to his young lady."
"Eleanor was so good for him, husband. Despite the pain and sacrifice, God meant them to be together. God will mend his relationship with the other girl too."
He agreed, and rubbed her slightly swelled belly and the girlchild within. The coming baby would never be a replacement for Eleanor, but she would be someone to cherish and get them through their grief.
It was time to go, but he lingered because this final visit would have to count for a lifetime. He knew he'd never visit this grave ever again, and he couldn't tell the DunBroch's. Not if Jeanne was wearing his ring upon his return. This brief new life had to be left securely in the past. He traced the letters in the stone carving of her name: 'Eleanor DunBroch Clayton' and beneath it in smaller letters was 'Meri Clayton, daughter'. This would be the last time he'd ever touch them.
…Dar es Salaam, August 1921…
Jeanne was helping be a hostess at another new bar that Siegfried owned, in another part of the city. As one of the best waitresses, Meriem got opening night to teach the others what to do to entertain the clients best. It was the same old trick. But something had gone wrong. Gunter and Karl-Heinz were held up. Their safe table was empty. They would beat her if she missed this hit. This was very well to do Greek tourist, and she was playing up her own Italian/Greek background. She kept him plied in drinks. He finally slumped over, and she did the deed. She hurried out of the bar, clocking out. She already stayed an extra two hours.
But he was faking his stupor, and he was angry to have been robbed by the waitress who served him. He vowed to get it back and make her pay. He'd take what he wanted from her all night that she wouldn't give him despite the hints.
She knew she was being followed and quickened her steps. The high heels slowed her and suddenly she felt a powerful grip and a disgusting liquor smell. A strong arm pulled her around violently and she was face to face with the angry customer.
"Give me back my money!" he demanded angrily.
"I didn't take your money. Check with the bartender. You bought the whole bar tonight, Mister."
"You lie, girl."
He just jammed his hands down her bosom, she screamed, and retrieved his wallet, but not before helping himself to a handful of her breasts. She gagged with his horrible touch.
He held up the wallet, "This is mine."
And then he grabbed her crotch, "And this is mine, too. Free of charge, missy. I am going to steal something from you since you tried to steal from me."
He grabbed her tighter and started to force her to the ground.
"No! Stop! I am not that kind of girl. Don't! No! I love someone else."
"Who could ever love you, whore?"
"The boy I'm in love with."
"After I'm done with you he'll never love you again."
"No!" she shouted.
She struggled a hand free, pulled her knife from her garter, and sliced him several times on the face and arms and hands.
He recoiled and screamed in agony, but she forced him to release his grip and she got up and ran away quickly.
"Run girl, because if I ever find you again, you're done for."
But then he realized she'd pickpocketed his money a second time.
Again he threatened, "I will get you, girl."
He thought about calling the cops about the robbery and being knifed, but he didn't want anyone to know he'd been to this seedy side of town or in strip bar of any kind, and that he attempted to assault her. His reputation was clean cut - an image he had to maintain. He needed to go to the emergency clinic for stitches and to staunch the bleeding. There he could claim he was mugged in the restaurant district, which would be partly true. He didn't lose that much money. His ship left tomorrow for Athens. He was so glad to be rid of this place and especially this girl. His threat was empty to come back to get her. He never intended to come to this part of town or Africa again. It was a hard lesson learned.
Jeanne bolted into her flat, slamming the door behind her. The flat had the stink of spent sex and sweat. Both Karl-Heinz and Gunter were dead drunk, didn't stir, and were totally naked in the living room. Karl-Heinz was all over Margite and she was covered in his après-sex, equally passed-out drunk, and Gunter had an unconscious prostitute from the burlesque hall still astraddle him. It was Gina, one of the most experienced girls. For some inexplicable reason, Gina and Gunter really liked each other. It was really against the rules for dance hall employees to have relationships, but it hadn't stopped them. They were an 'item'. She always said to all the girls in private that no man satisfied her like him.
She threw the stolen money at Karl-Heinz hard enough to make him stir and make the prostitute yelp and try to cover herself unsuccessfully and run out of the flat. Jeanne stopped her, "Gina, no, don't can't go outside like that."
"I… I'm not supposed to be here with him. You won't rat on me will you, Meriem?"
"Of course not. We're friends. I'll tell Siegfried that I needed you here for help with my new solo. You can stay with me tonight."
"You're the best, Meriem. All the girls love you, even though you're the youngest. It's like having the best ever little sister."
She blushed.
Meriem paid the pretty woman her due without even flinching. She knew Gunter was broke right now, "Wow that's even better, Meriem."
"Anyone who actually likes Gunter should be paid for the pain. In fact, here's a bonus," Jeanne joked as she took another couple of Pounds out of the stolen wallet.
"Girlfriend secrets!" Gina grinned.
They laughed.
Gina was very grateful, "Well let me offer you this. If you ever want some tips on how to really please your boyfriend, I'll show you how. I understand it's been years since you've been together. He's going to want a really special reunion with you."
Jeanne was even more embarrassed about that despite the temptation and her strong desire to provide that reunion moment, "Uhh… thanks for the offer but we'll just figure it out on our own. It'll be more fun that way, Gina."
"Suit yourself, Jeanne. Men like experienced women better, I've always found," Gina shrugged.
Jeanne had no response to that, other than hoping Jack had no 'experience' with other women before they were reunited. Given all the awful things she'd done, something like that was easily forgivable. He was a guy. She knew that guys couldn't control themselves as easily as women. She'd forgive him, as long as it was a mistake.
Gina trotted off happily to Jeanne's bedroom and flopped on a corner of her bed. She was asleep in an instant.
Jeanne screamed bloody murder at the men, "Where the hell were you? I was nearly raped. I had to do the whole caper myself. I am surprised the man didn't follow me back here and kill us all. You're too drunk to defend us. I don't care if this was a bonus job for all of us. You needed to come to back me up. I will never do a caper alone again."
The men just groaned and withstood her tirade. Her profane screams made their headaches worse. They didn't offer even one "I'm sorry". After she was done yelling at them, they slipped back into their stupor, and Jeanne knew they wouldn't even remember this. Times like this made her hate them more than ever.
"Damn you all," she muttered. Margrite hadn't even stirred through the whole blow up. She was upset with her too.
She tossed the man's loaded wallet on the table, dropped her blood-spattered cocktail waitress dress in the sink to soak the stains out, stepped out of her slip, kicked off her heels and hose and garter belt, cleaned the layers of makeup off her face, and crashed on her bed in her underwear next to Gina, who was already asleep. She locked the door in case Gunter had any more amorous intentions toward Gina and tried to make the moves on her instead, which she knew he always wanted to do, especially now. She nearly hurled with that thought.
She had a better thought, "Jack, please find me. Save me. I am so done with this. I don't know how much I can still take."
Nothing came back. It was too much to ask. It was nearly two AM in the morning. 'Nice' men were asleep at two. And so were 'nice' women, sleeping with their husbands, and if they were still awake, they'd be making love to their spouses. Someday she would be a 'nice' woman, sleeping and making love with Jack in their marriage bed. Or nest, she smiled.
But until Jack arrived, Jeanne was now confident she was old enough she could survive alone on the streets without their protection and not be abducted by someone worse than her captors. She defended herself against the angry client, and she wasn't really trying. She plotted to escape on her own, perhaps into the countryside and make herself look like a Swahili woman, and find a way make herself visible to Jack or his family without tipping off Karl-Heinz or Siegfried.
Another option was to find a way to get to the Clayton shipping company that Karl-Heinz and Siegfried forbid her to contact. That could be a refuge if she could only get a message to Castle Greystoke or Nigeria. She had the inexplicable recurrent dream to find a radio transmitter. If only she could get down to the wharf. She worried about getting past Karl-Heinz' new boss' ever vigilant spies that kept the employees in check from running, especially her. They knew her but she didn't know them. If she was caught escaping who knows what was next. It could only be worse.
…Castle Greystoke. August 1921…
In his bed, Jack Clayton only felt, as he sometimes did, Jeanne's forlorn laments to be saved. There were no words but he thought, "Give me a sign. Give me something to tell me where you are."
And again Jeanne had that odd but supportive feeling that Jack had heard her. And that would carry her yet another day.
"I'm trying Jack, I'm trying. It's not like I can make a phone call."
Then, she got a great idea, and she wondered why she hadn't thought of it earlier. She finally connected the messages that were clearly from Jack and that gentle immortal spirit about radios.
…Dar es Salaam...
Jeanne checked in at the burlesque hall for work the next day, and looked at the events calendar and the job assignments. She had the usual balance of being a hostess and a line dancer in the building.
She found the special private social event for which she was searching – all the shippers in the harbor were to be hosted at the French shipping company's headquarters the day she turned 16 to celebrate the takeover of Tanganyika by the English. Siegfried got millions of Pounds for being the entertainment for this event. All of the shippers had communications systems, especially the French company. She looked at the roster. All the older girls were on the dance card for the event, especially the 'strip tease artists' as they were called. That new fad of entertainers showing everything in a very revealing and provocative manner was getting very popular all over the world. An exclusive showing for the shippers would be very lucrative financially. These men were very rich.
She went to her boss Siegfried and volunteered to go, but he turned her down, "Meriem, that's just for the experienced girls. And it's a private party. There might be other requests for 'service' to the men that night. You are most definitely too young for that. And I know you are dead set against ever doing that."
Jeanne responded, "I'll finally be 16 that day. I'll be an adult and can do anything any other adult can do then. And I am an experienced dancer. Men love me dancing and my body. I can say 'no' to special services, or you can tell them for me. They can't deny that. It's not in my contract. Other girls do that here."
Siegfried responded, "I'm sorry, Meriem, but I need you here at the dance hall that night, since everyone else with any real talent will be at the party. You're a hit, young lady. You'll bring the crowds in that night. People schedule their attendance for the nights you're in the chorus line.
"OK, boss. But I wish you'd reconsider. I really want to do this."
She was disappointed, but on her time off, she went to the market. She bought some strange looking roots. She remembered these from her days with the Mangani and with Jane.
…
The day of the harbor party – and her birthday - she got there early. All the girls wished her happy birthday and had some cake for her.
"Our little sister Jeanne is officially a 'big girl' now. Now you can dance any night!"
She laughed and expressed her thanks. She hadn't had a real birthday celebration in years since being with her street gang. Karl-Heinz and Gunter never wanted her to have a happy time during normal life experiences.
She asked the rest of the dancers even though she knew the answer, "So… you guys have a big deal tonight?"
"Yeah," the lead dancer and part time prostitute said, "Meriem, we are going to get laid… oops… I mean paid well tonight."
The older dancer was one of the few girls that danced professionally as well as 'entertained the clients personally' after her act as she like to put it. And she shrewdly charged clients for each service, and they always gladly paid up. She was quite talented at each job.
Everyone chuckled.
The waiter brought the girls tea for a little instant energy before they went to the event. Everyone liked English tea.
When their heads were turned, Jeanne put a packet of something ground up in two of the girls' drinks. No one saw her. It as a move as deft as any of her pickpocketing moves back in Douala.
After sipping their drinks for a few minutes, both women turned a sickly pale color and held their mouths and ran to the water closet, where the wretched sounds of vomiting and diarrhea could be heard.
The choreographer heard the sickening noises, and he knocked on the water closet door, "Are you ladies OK?"
They emerged with green complexions, "Siegfried, we are really ill. There's no way we can dance without puking on the customers."
And they immediately rushed back to the water closet for another disgusting sounding round of retching and 'going' violently.
He turned to Jeanne and asked, "How well to you know Helga's act?"
Jeanne said confidently, "I watch her every night. I know every step."
He took Helga's feather boa that was left on her dressing table and handed it to Jeanne.
"Tonight's your debut as a full-fledged stripper. Congratulations! Knock em dead, Meriem."
Everyone was delighted. All the girls knew Jeanne's body was perfect to be a strip tease artist. Now the men they entertained would know, too.
In the crowded little bus to the building, driven by Karl-Heinz, and road trip equipment handled by Gunter and a few other men with better backs, and Margrite as the bartender, they all went over to the French shipping company.
Gunter snidely corned her and gave her a horribly desirous smile, "I'm going to watch you tonight. Front row."
She snapped at the disgusting man, "No you aren't. You have a job to do backstage, Gunter. That view is for our customers. Besides, I hope you're face down in a liquor stupor long before my act happens, Gunter."
He grumbled and walked off. It was so easy to put in his place.
She asked Siegfried and the French shipping company building manager, "Do you have a practice room for me? I need to go through Helga's routine."
"Sure," the manager said. He took her to the room, which was in a pretty isolated part of the building. That was perfect.
She went through the number a few times. It was easy. But then she quietly left the room, but left the record player running so it sounded like she was practicing. She had twenty minutes before it stopped. A "Do Not Disturb" sign was on the doorknob, and hoped that stopped anyone.
Jeanne prowled the halls in only a black warm up leotard and bare feet. It clung to every part of her body, followed and highlighted her every curve and undercut. Jack would love it. It helped her blend into the darkness of the hallways.
Jeanne found the communications room. The men were 5 minutes into an hour late shift dinner break. She counted her blessings. Her plan was to convince the radio men to innocently show her the radio and let her talk into it by bribing them with some personal dance time. She was glad to not have to. She was worried to be one girl alone with several men and keeping their hands off her was problematic. She couldn't hide a knife on a skintight leotard.
What she was confronted with was completely different kind of radio than a telegraph. But it was running.
She realized that this was a newfangled voice radio. She found and read the simple transmit instructions. Fortunately they were written in French. She was embarrassed that she was actually rusty on her French.
She pushed the talk button. She heard a hum and the transmit light went on. She sure hoped that doing that wouldn't attract attention anywhere else.
Remembering her even rustier with her Mangani, but she said plainly five times, "Korak. It's Mangani Girl. I love you. I'm in Dar es Salaam. Serving food. Dancing."
She ended the transmission by saying, "Happy 16th birthday, Korak."
She grinned at this most special present from her to him. She dreamed that she'd be the next present for him after a few months.
She'd not spoken in Mangani for almost seven years. Several words had no real translation, so she hoped for the best. There was no real word for dancer or waitress or alcoholic drinks. Serving food was the best she could do. That left a lot of searching to do. There were hundreds of restaurants in Dar es Salaam. There were all kinds of dancing places too - African, belly dancing, Indian, ballet and others. This could take years. But at least she let him know where she was.
She tiptoed out of the radio room, leaving it as she found it. When she got back to the practice room, Siegfried was knocking. He had been for awhile.
"Where the hell were you, Meriem? I was getting worried," he scolded.
She shrugged, "The girls' room. You don't want me to piss on the stage do you for my first time? I am excited but really nervous."
"Get your chorus line outfit on first. We go through those numbers, then Freida performs. I still am not sure about you, honey. I'm still nervous you stripping for the first time tonight. The party started late. I might scratch you off the act tonight."
"I can do it boss. I want to. I'll be really good. I promise."
"That's my girl. But don't be disappointed if you don't. Most of these business magnates have already asked for extra favors for the other girls. I am not letting you do that. I'm glad I brought Gina, but she can't do them all."
"Even though she will try," joked Meriem.
They both laughed at that.
"Thank you Siegfried. No, I never want to. I have a boy friend. He'd hate that. It's bad enough that I do burlesque. Strip tease is going to take some time to explain to him. He does not share me well with anyone else."
"Are you sure, Meriem?" he grinned.
That stunned her a little. Maybe Jack would like a 'special show for one' and that would be something she'd like to do for him. There were some advantages to this new life that she could share intimately with just him. But only if he liked it.
He was after all a 16 year old boy tonight and was now considered a man across most of Africa. Even he would have 16 year old temptations that she alone could satisfy. And he sure would fall for her body tonight and she would gladly give it to him.
She scolded herself not to think those thoughts and to remember all this needed to be held for marriage with Jack.
…
The party was set to begin. Siegfried walked on to the private party stage to the appreciative applause of the business tycoons. They had been well entertained to this point with lots of great food and liquor.
"Thanks for all of you coming tonight," said an appreciative Siegfried, "This is Dar es Salaam's most exclusive harbor party, and I know it costs a lot to be here. I'd like to acknowledge Clayton Shipping's Hugh Farnsworth for letting us have the honor of being your entertainment tonight. I know competition is fierce for this. We have a show worth really worth watching tonight. You've all heard about the new rage in dancing – strip tease. We have a couple of dancers who can do that and you hope you'll enjoy them. For that reason, tonight's show is called "Stripping for Shipping"!
The men all cheered and raised their heavy liquor glasses. Some were already drunk and staggered a little.
"Bring on the girls!" one shouted in slurred speech. Gina wanted him next.
"So let it begin! Hit it guys!" Siegfried exclaimed.
The first chorus line came out and did a great opening act. Jeanne was right in the center and the lead dancer in this line of the less experienced girls. She played up her short solo in mid-number which consisted of a partial strip – taking off her arm length gloves and removing her hose and boots so the men saw a lot of dark skin. She danced without her panties and top from the beginning, and left out few layers of petticoats so it was easy to see her with any good kick, and she made sure there were a lot of good kicks. She was going to play this game for keeps to make sure she had all the favors of the owner over any other dancer. That was one lesson she learned from Jaeger. Play to win or don't play at all. She had no regrets he was dead.
The man in the first row in a white suit and smoking a cigar liked all the numbers in the act, and Jeanne in particular. Money for extravagant tips flowed very easily in this very exclusive 'business man night out' that no one in town talked about or admitted to. Attendance went to the highest bidder. Twice he was that, and he was in charge of the committee that chose the dance hall that provided the entertainment. He'd applauded and had thrown the girls a lot of tips, especially at one dancer – Meriem. She let him tuck the money into her jet black garter belt, while he was admiring her equally jet black pelt not far above it. She gave him a good look. He gave her very rich tips. She wondered what she would do if he actually touched her, but he didn't try.
The man was enchanted by this younger woman with olive skin who was amazingly pretty and very well endowed. He took an instant liking to her. He had a preference for native women and their dark skin. He was impressed that Siegfried would bring local talent into his show.
The businessman turned to Karl-Heinz who was clearing the drinks that Gina and the other 'special favors' girls were serving.
"You there. Waiter. Who's that one?" he asked.
"Uh… Meriem."
"By God Meriem is especially healthy looking and talented. I want to see more of her."
That had clearly two meanings. And he knew more than he was saying.
Before Karl-Heinz could respond, Siegfried came on stage to wrap up the show, "That is about it gentlemen, hope you enjoyed the show."
The girls were standing behind, doing their curtain call.
The man stood up and interrupted the burlesque owner, "But you promised two full strip acts, Siegfried. There's only been one. Frieda. I like that one with dark skin. Can she strip?"
There was general agreement from his peers that they wanted someone else to do a show for them.
Siegfried knew this man pretty well, as they worked together on the show arrangements and he gave them the contract for tonight, "Mr. Farnsworth, she's just learning her act, this is her first night doing it. Helga is sick. She can do an encore for you late if you come by the club. We have a private room. You see her act and have her too."
"Nope. I want that one to dance. She's a lot prettier than Helga and her tired act, and I want this girl to dance now. So let's make her first night stripping memorable, shall we? I'll pay you 1,000 Pounds Sterling Siegfried and 2000 Pounds to Meriem personally if she'll strip for me right now, right here. Just so she'll want to dance again. As long as she dances right in front of me. I will not touch her. This is on me gentlemen, if you want to just watch. But there's no free dance. Believe me gentlemen I will extract it out of you in our next contracts together. Anyone who wants to match the bid I'll go easy on next time I want to make a deal."
These men both competed against and worked together all the time. Farnsworth's deal was pretty good, especially getting another act. He was a tough and through businessman, but very likeable.
Jeanne blinked both at the figure and Farnsworth's finger pointed directly at her, and that he called her name.
"Who told him that?" she thought and she felt less safe now.
Seigfried knew that offer was one he could refuse, nor could she.
"Mr. Farnsworth, we'll just be a moment."
"Take your time. As long as she says yes to doing the strip tease dance."
Siegfried cleared the other dancers off the stage for their curtain call and took Jeanne offstage, "Are you sure you can do this? What if they ask you for…?"
"No can do. Anything but that. I'll dance but that's it. Give them their money back, Siegfried, if they ask for that. I am a dancer and a waitress only."
He gulped and proceeded.
This was an enormous amount of money for one dance from one girl. Several others matched the bids. There was more than 10,000 Pounds sterling being offered up and growing. That would pay for the operations of the entire hall for two weeks.
"Are you kidding? I got debts to pay. The sooner the better."
She glared at Karl-Heinz who just pursed his lips.
"You practiced didn't you?"
"Certainly. You were back there."
"Dance like there's no tomorrow Meriem."
"I will. Happy birthday to me, then. 10,000 Pounds worth," she smiled, went to the dressing room to get that special costume.
A few minutes later, she peered out of the dressing room and gave Siegfried the affirmative sign she was ready, but she didn't want him to see her.
"Gentlemen, by special request I present Meriem, the mystical dancer, an adopted orphan from the battle of Togoland."
She walked on to stage, nodded to the pianoman, and launched into her act. From the start, her number even staggered Siegfried and the choreographer. Karl-Heinz' and Gunter's tongues were hanging out. Margrite was angry at her husband again for staring. He wasn't getting anything from her tonight but a nasty lecture, she vowed and grimaced. She held her breath for the successful debut of her surrogate daughter. She was beautiful.
It was truly an amazing show. The piano was sultry, and with the bass it was downright seductive. It was completely different and original than Helga who she'd mildly poisoned. She started out in a slinky full length red dress that the choreographer had made especially for her, with a matching red turban and feather in her short hair. Red shoes and elbow length red gloves really set the ensemble off. It looked like a once piece outfit, but to everyone's surprise, it had invisible zippers that she unzipped one by one to open strategically-placed slits, revealing matching red lingerie and her dark skin underneath. Finally, enough zippers were opened the dress fell elegantly off her shoulders, with her dance moves enhancing its gentle fall. This was perfectly choreographed.
The applause as deafening and several men whistled loudly. Margrite dropped a snifter of cognac and Karl-Heinz and Gunter completely forgot what they had to do next.
She deftly kicked the gown to Farnsworth to the cheers of the men. To help cover the skimpy, frilly, nearly see through lingerie, she used the boa to wrap herself, until she provocatively removed the lingerie, making sure the places where the undergarments had been were covered with the boa so they really weren't seeing anything yet. She did teasing brief reveals, until she tossed each piece of lingerie at Farnsworth too. Everyone stood up for her, several totally excited by her.
And then she tossed the boa aside.
Meriem was an absolutely magnificent looking young adult, and then really went to work the crowd on the show stage.
With no covering at all, she showed athleticism in her dance steps from her days in the jungle and did stretches and squats, thrusts and bends and flexibility moves that gave everyone an especially explicit view of everything she had. Her large black patch was captivating and she used it to emphasize some moves. She showed them her lithe body from almost any angle. She was really making love to the entire audience. They got their money's worth, and they showed their enthusiastic appreciation with loud applause and a standing ovation. More bills and coins were thrown at her.
"Oh… my… God… Meriem," said a truly astonished Siegfried.
The other strip tease artist Freida immediately knew she'd moved down in the marquee order, and knew that Helga might never get asked to dance again but in the chorus line. Jeanne's dancer friends were ecstatic for her and whistled and cheered.
To Jeanne it was simultaneously humiliating and thrilling. She knew she had absolutely 'stuck' her number, but was angry that she had to do this. She was proud of her body since swimming naturally with Jack and her Nigerian playmates age 8, but it was only meant to be seen by one boy and his family.
Strip tease was such an abomination to her natural life as a Mangani female, but it had to be done. She knew she had to be the absolute best at this, and the better she did it the more money she'd get and the faster she would be paid off with Karl-Heinz and away from this disgusting life. She could see the end of it now. There was less than a million to go on the ransom. She still had hope of being rescued too. But for now this could be her way out faster now. 20,000 Pounds faster. No. 30,000 Pounds faster. Not just 10,000. She raked in the extra money tonight with that stellar performance. That was the final 'take' on her breakout debut as the best stripper in all of Dar es Salaam.
She reveled in the praise and the flowing cash as she thought, "I'm sorry Jack. Someday this will be for your eyes only, dear."
She had pretended the whole time she was only dancing for Jack, hence the intense sexuality to it, and would do so in the future. She knew she'd be asked to be a main act now by Siegfried. If he was ever able to speak intelligently again after what she did to every man in the room, making every tongue and a lot of other things swell.
Throughout the act, people got glimpses of the inner thigh tattoo. Karl-Heinz was intrigued, and he needed to find out now if it was some kind of escape signal.
The show closed and the men went home, but Farnsworth grabbed Siegfried.
Farnsworth continued to applaud and returned Meriem's costume parts she'd sent his way as a part of the act. The smelled like her, "Siegfried, I want a deal here. Meriem will dance for me again, And more."
The owner agreed to talk. He was still stunned by Meriem's truly amazing performance.
"I will tell you when," and then Farnsworth left too.
Jeanne was greeted by the other dancers enthusiastically back stage. Siegfried hugged her after all the other girls did. He had no idea she was so lovely and soft. Still nude, it didn't bother her around the girls and Siegfried. He'd seen her the very first day of tryouts.
He praised her, "Honey with an act like that, Helga just needs to find a new dance hall. Sugar, you were magnificent. You are a natural."
The irony of that term was amusing.
Karl-Heinz barged in and interrupted. All the partially clad girls screamed fled behind the privacy screens. Karl-Heinz was just a stage worker, a steward, and the main bouncer and designated pickpocket to those few who knew. Only Siegfried and choreographer could see the girls naked off stage. It didn't matter he was Meriem's father.
One of the older dancers chastised, "This is only for the girls. Karl-Heinz, if you want to show catch the show, buy a ticket, mein Herr."
"I just wanted to congratulate my daughter on her great show. Not stare at you ladies."
The girls always thought it was a little weird that Meriem didn't put up more of a fuss with her father watching her in the chorus line and her debut strip tease act, and especially now looking at her completely naked in the dressing room. But every family was different.
She was afraid of being yelled at, and asked, "What do you want, Father?"
Instead he praised her, and grasped her bare shoulders, and gave her a long admiring close look that she resented, "You were amazing, Meriem, I'm proud of you. Brave. Great act. Daughter, you gave everyone including Mr. Farnsworth his money's worth. See? It's not so bad doing this now. When you were 9 you ran around naked for free in the jungle. And happy birthday. We'll buy you a present to celebrate."
The other girls thought that her father was being really sweet. Jeanne knew he just wanted something more than just the stare.
But she blushed with his rare praise. She was long since past being bothered by Karl-Heinz looking at her nude even though annoyed him with the frequent liberties he took now that she was older. She adamantly wouldn't let Gunter anywhere near her in this condition though.
He took her aside though, and out of eyesight and earshot, he grilled her, "Where did you get that anchor tattoo. Why? When?"
She seethed with the need to explain the tattoo and angry she was still naked alone with him, "Douala. A long time ago. To remember my Christian faith despite all the bad things that happened. And there were a lot when I got it. And still happen, 'Father'."
Karl-Heinz laughed derisively, "Well you are a long way from being a Christian any more, Meriem. Look at you standing there naked as a jaybird in front of me. All your Christian friends on that boat have sailed."
That was a direct slam about her worship with the Russians and ridiculed her dream of being with Jack. She burned inside with her hatred of Karl-Heinz. She hoped that there was a special place in hell for Karl-Heinz when he finally met his Maker.
"But," she thought, "my secret is discovered but still protected."
"And where is your money?" he demanded
"Right here," she growled as she jammed it into his greedy fist, "That's 30,000 Pounds less I owe you, Father. And you know Pounds are worth more than Deutschmarks."
He took the money, said nothing – not even thank you - and left. Once again Karl-Heinz ruined a nice moment for her. She wished Jack was here to hug her just like this, and admire her show, even though she knew that was completely the wrong thing to wish for.
After she and the girls got dressed, they exited, loaded the troupe's bus, and headed back to the dance hall to drop everyone and the equipment, band, and props and then go home. Everyone had concluded it was a great night and Meriem was clearly the breakout hit of the show.
"You've been holdin' back on us, girl," said one.
She shrugged, "Well I just now got my chance to show you what I've got."
The compliments came fast and furious from her friends.
"And honey, you've got a lot!"
"Adults twice your age don't have what you have, little sis!"
"You can shake and show it, honey."
"You're the best, little sister!"
"You have a hot body, sweetie!"
They all laughed about that, because it was patently obvious how incredible her body was.
Jeanne took it all in and was happy. It had been a happy birthday after all.
Gina was happy too, holding up the fist full of bills she earned giving Siegfried the bulk of it, "Yes ladies it was a very good night all the way around."
"How many, Gina?" asked Jeanne.
"18," she announced proudly.
"All of them? There were three of you working the crowd. You did all the guys the other girls already did?"
"Yep. Can't help it, ladies, I love my men!" she said proudly. All of them laughed.
Another of the prostitutes noted with some annoyance with Gina having done all of them when she'd lain with only six of the men, and didn't even get a fraction of what Gina earned.
Another dancer joked, "Wait. That's more than all of them. There were only 17 customers there."
She teased, "Yep. And... well yes… Gunter was being all pouty and feeling left out. I can't help that when you got it you got it."
There were a lot of nasty snickers. Gunter just grimaced.
Everyone knew Gina and Gunter were together, even though everyone failed to see the attraction.
They all laughed. Gina was not that much older than Jeanne, and was very pretty. She was a very hard worker. And very, very good in her techniques.
Siegfried asked annoyed and chastised the pair, "He paid you, right? No freebies on a business night. Especially with an employee. I shouldn't let you do that."
Gina kidded, "Of course, boss. Extra to be first. He hates being at the end. Who wouldn't?"
Everyone guffawed. Jeanne managed only a nervous snicker. She wanted to crawl into a hole. She was too close to the prostitution business now, which was another reason to want to be the best dancer, so no one would even think to suggest another job for her.
While the girls mostly slept during the long drive across town, Seigfried noted to Karl-Heinz, "Your daughter was amazing. I never knew that 'modest Meriem' I interviewed months ago had that in her. That was pretty heady stuff. Did you see, Karl-Heinz? Several of those old businessmen couldn't control themselves watching her dance. They're headed straight to the dry cleaners in the morning. Can you imagine what will happen on a regular night at the dance hall? It will be amazing."
Both men had a great laugh, but Karl-Heinz wasn't far from the same problem during the show and in the dressing room with her. He caught Margrite's still aggravated glare.
Getting off the bus, Siegfried took the time to compliment Meriem again, "You were truly fantastic, young lady. You're in the #1 line up every night if you want and the new solo strip act. You're a great waitress but even better as an entertainer."
"Thank you so much, Siegfried. I was hoping that I did well for the business and made you the proud owner!"
"Play to win…" she remembered.
"You are going to break a lot of hearts girl. And make me a lot of money. Your name is going to be up in lights, dearie!"
"I hope to do both for you."
Having her name up in lights was exactly what she wanted. When Jack got here then it would be easier to find her. The more attention the better. But Karl-Heinz overhead the conversation.
"About that Siegfried," Karl-Heinz interrupted, "we have to find a good stage name for her, to protect her privacy. And I am sorry to say, after our trouble in Southwest Africa, there may be some thugs that might come looking for us. We can't use her real name."
"Oh. Yes Of course."
Meriem seethed. Karl-Heinz saw the look and knew she would want her name on the marquee to attract the Count and her father here.
"Well Meriem. What marquee stage name do you want?"
She answered Siegfried while giving Karl-Heinz a nasty look,"I was thinking 'Magnificent Meriem', but since I can't, then something like, 'Tattoed Tatianna.' Or 'Lovely Lavonne, Jungle Beauty'."
Tatianna was the Captain's daughter in law's name. Karl-Heinz was not happy about that. Lavonne was her favorite aunt's name, who would have been aghast knowing it could be her stripper's stage name. She would have fainted dead away. But if her fame got greater as a strip tease artist, perhaps that family name would give a tip to her father. Karl-Heinz would not know that fact about her.
Siegfried considered them, "Something shorter, 'Lovely La, Jungle Beauty'. Sounds more exotic African, less French."
"Perfect," Jeanne agreed, but inside her hopes were dashed, not able to use the family name after all.
"Jack, I'm sorry. But yet I'm not. I am holding on for us every damn day. I pray you heard my message to you tonight. Come get me so I won't have to do this any more" and then a sly grin showed, "except for you, dear. As your wife in our bedroom."
It had been a very good 16th birthday, though it had been an experience that she never ever imagined herself doing. She was fully prepared that the results of that message may not come until her 17th. And her specialized dancing debut and what it could do for freedom sooner was very satisfying even if it was wrong. One way or another she could see the end of this nightmare kidnapping. She slept soundly for the first time in months. Margrite checked on her in the middle of the night, and puzzled over what the sleeping smile meant.
…
Author's Notes: The wheels are turning and Jack has an airtight plan this time. It was a good 16th birthday for both. Jeanne got the message out. She's in charge of her destiny. Jack is moving on from Eleanor. Let's see how this progresses. And yes I dropped a bit of Tarzan canon lore. The stage name for Jeanne's strip tease persona 'Lovely La' is a tip of the hate to the evil jungle Queen La and her secret jungle civilization. You have no idea how many names I had to sift through to find a good one that started with 'La…"