Chapter 11 – The Talk
Cleo found herself seated on the couch in the den of the Moon villa. Across the coffee table Buster Moon, smile radiant and fur pristine, pulled up a seat to face his guest. Scattered around the room and watching Cleo with everything ranging from apprehension to intense scrutiny was Moon's theater company, along with a few unfamiliar faces that hadn't made it into her dossier on the koala and his troupe (mainly the charming elephant and the tiger).
She'd willingly walked into enemy territory as a sign of good will. They didn't seem like bad kids (though she could do with less of the porcupine's attitude), but she was annoyed by all the eyes focused on her. That, and Buster Moon hadn't stopped talking since she arrived, though none of what he said was of any consequence.
"This villa is so cozy; I don't think we could have picked a better spot. It really is a nice neighborhood, very accommodating. The neighbors are quiet, friendly and respectful. Oh, and the way the light reflects off the pool in the early morning—it's enough to put any soul at ease!"
Cleo's eyes flickered with irritation. "Is this really what you wanted to talk about?"
Buster's smile faltered slightly. "I just thought we could indulge in some friendly small talk while we waited for the tea. But I understand, you must be very busy."
Miss Crawly entered the den with a cup of tea in each hand. She placed Cleo's cup upon the table with particular care and stood by diligently. As Cleo reached for the tea, she noticed something white bobbing inside. Her guesses of a sugar cube or marshmallow were violently dashed when the object swiveled enough to reveal an iris and pupil.
"I've got my eye on you," the iguana said in a strained whispered.
"Miss Crawly, no!" Buster bolted out of his seat and pulled the cup away. He fished the glass eye out of the piping hot tea and cleaned it with a handkerchief before handing it back to Miss Crawly. "I am so sorry about that. Miss Crawly, what's gotten into you?"
"I know what got out of her," Cleo said, watching the iguana pop the eye back into its socket. Buster swapped the cups, giving Cleo his untainted tea, but the look of disgust on her face made it pretty clear she had no intention of consuming anything from this household anytime soon.
"Let's get to business, then," Buster said, slipping back into his seat. The shift in his demeanor was subtle enough that Cleo imagined she was the only one in the room to see it. Those glistening eyes of Buster's, often seeking out the wonder and potential in the world, sharpened just enough. She recognized that look. There was definitely a shrewd businessman in that tiny package.
"I'm going to cut to the chase and ask you the most important question: Why are you helping Jimmy Crystal?"
"I'm simply fulfilling my duties to my client," Cleo said.
"It can't be that simple, can it? Even after what he did... to me?"
"To elaborate, Jimmy was forced into a bad situation and made a horrible choice." Cleo gave a piercing look over her shades that carried the implications of her words. "I'm just making sure that choice doesn't end up burying him forever."
"I understand that you're helping his reputation, but why ruin mine in the process?"
"I'm not ruining you, Mr. Moon."
"He's been gettin' trashed with all kinds of slander for weeks!" Johnny complained in a sudden outburst. "How can you say you're not ruining him? We all see it!"
"It's only slander if it's false," Cleo said. "You're all looking at me like I'm some kind of wicked mastermind. Sometimes the best plans are the simple ones, and this one is the domino effect. You are a charlatan, Mr. Moon, and this plan only works because of that fact. It's true that Jimmy and I push a domino and watch the chain reaction, but you set those dominos up all by yourself. So no, this isn't you being ruined or slandered. This is called accountability."
Buster had a bad sense of déjà vu, like he was being scolded all over again by Kilborn. He already went through that embarrassment on national television, he wasn't quite willing to experience it again in his own home.
"Ms. Keller," Buster started, unusually brusque in delivery, "I appreciate that you feel like you're dishing out some kind of accountability, but nothing good comes out of stifling talent. Regardless of how things ended between me and Crystal, my theater crew and I delivered a spectacular show, and everyone that's seen it agrees. This little plan hurts everybody. Crystal's hurting his own daughter!"
Cleo caught the pained glance from Porsha before she said, "I have a question, Mr. Moon. If you believe in talent so much, why cheat? Why lie? Cheating is the realm of those that can't cut it. It's said talent speaks for itself. Why not have faith in the talent and let it do the work instead of acquiring resources through dubious means? It's contradictory to tout the talent of your team when you lied your way into Crystal Entertainment and exploited its resources to get to where you are now."
"Crystal's process for screening talent is incredibly flawed. He wouldn't have had a show to boast about if I didn't fib a little."
Cleo found herself shaking her head. This koala was a slippery one. "Fibs are for children, Mr. Moon. You lied and benefited handsomely from it. You can make it sound like you were doing Jimmy a favor, but this was really an act of self-serving entitlement."
"I don't want to sound rude, Ms. Keller," Buster said, scowl clear on his face, "but I've already been through this kind of interrogation with Walter Kilborn, which I'm sure you're aware of since it was the result of one of your dominos. I'm not all that interested in retreading this ground."
"I can respect that, Mr. Moon, but I hope you don't mind if I touch on one thing Kilborn brought up. He said you don't respect another person's ability to tell you 'no.' I'd say it goes a bit further. You override another person's ability to consent."
"Well, that sounds sinister."
"Is it not true? You make choices that deliberately strip another person's ability to choose. You lied to Jimmy about Calloway so he couldn't make an informed choice. You kept the contestants of your competition in the dark about the real prize money so they couldn't decide if they wanted to stick it out or not. And these disgruntled former employees the news is digging up... for whatever reason you didn't pay them, they seemed to be under the impression that working in your theater was a paid position."
"Those are all complex and messy situations that you're simplifying," Buster defended himself.
"How about the most recent incident? You asked me to meet you here yet made no mention that I would be under strict surveillance by your entire theater company."
Ash let out a cynical laugh. "Like we'd really leave Moon alone with one of Crystal's goons," she said, her voice acidic.
"I'm not one of his goons," Cleo retorted with a dismissive chuckle. "Either way, this is simply evidence that you have little to no morals, Mr. Moon."
"That's not fair!" Meena said. "You're judging him only based on a few bad things you've heard and seen!"
"Isn't that what you're all doing to Jimmy?"
There was a mixed rumble of dissent in the room.
"Since you find my judgment of your past actions unfair, let's do a thought experiment," Cleo said. "Let's say everything happened the same way at Crystal Entertainment, except Jimmy doesn't catch you in a lie. The show goes off without a hitch and you and your theater company perform every night at the Crystal Tower Theater. Do you keep Jimmy perpetually in the dark, looking him in the face every day, maintaining the lie indefinitely? Could you live with yourself?"
Buster opened his mouth to respond and stopped to mull over what it was he was going to say. Watching Cleo sit there in stoic anticipation gave him the distinct feeling that this was a trap. If he said he'd confess to Crystal, that would reinforce her point that he was a charlatan that knew he was doing the wrong thing. But if he didn't come clean, that would reinforce her point that he was severely lacking morals.
Yup, this was a trap. A pure catch-22.
And then Cleo spoke before he could. "Your silence says what your words don't."
Buster furrowed his brows. At this point, Cleo was fully convinced that he was a swindling fiend, and his energy would be wasted trying to convince her otherwise right now.
"I think we've spoken enough about me. I wanted to talk about Crystal specifically. His rage, his malice... you speak of accountability, but where does this end? He hates me so much, how am I supposed to believe that what you're doing is beneficial? That this isn't just the end of everything I've built?"
Cleo gave a quick sigh, shifting on the couch. Her body language changed, as if preparing for something uncomfortable. "Those are valid questions, Mr. Moon. Let me explain something to you about Jimmy, and he wouldn't be very happy if he knew I was discussing him like this... you have to understand, Jimmy's soul isn't just bruised, it's fractured, and it's been that way since before I met him. Speculation would point to the loss of his late wife Mercy Crystal, but I think it goes deeper than that. Everything from his power to his ego has been assembled around him like a fortress. Mr. Moon, when you lied to him, when you humiliated him, you slipped past his defenses and essentially took a jackhammer to an exposed nerve. He sees you as an existential threat."
Buster was taken aback. "Me, an existential threat? That's a bit over the top, isn't it?"
"So is throwing someone to their death, wouldn't you agree?"
The koala grimaced at the sudden rush of memories.
"So, what, you give us this little sob story, tell us he has issues, and we just let him off the hook?" Ash said. "We just pretend that his behavior is okay? Like he's not disrupting our lives?"
"On the contrary, this is a warning," Cleo stressed. "Don't provoke him. Just... don't. I convinced Jimmy that violence was not in his best interests, though that cell he's in might have helped a little, but his rage can still burn with all the fury of the sun. You want to know when this ends? When he moves on. He feels aggrieved and is consumed with the need for justice or vindication. Once he feels that vindication, he can focus on what truly matters, and that's getting help to better himself. I'll make sure of it. That man is full of pride but, deep down, he knows he screwed up monumentally."
Buster let the snow leopard's words dwell in his mind. No one ever accused him of being anything but optimistic, but he found little comfort or confidence here. Something about her plan to satisfy Crystal and then "fix" him seemed fueled by at least a little bit of hubris. And there was no ego in the realm bigger than Crystal's.
"Well, Miss Keller, I can respect and appreciate that you've known Crystal longer and more intimately than I have, but I feel confident about my own experiences with him. I just have to warn you, one thing I learned the hard way about him... he does whatever he wants. And he made that very clear when he called me last night."
The room exploded into a chorus of shock and disbelief.
Porsha nearly lost her balance. "Daddy called you?"
"He called you...?" Cleo repeated, removing her shades and focusing on Buster as if he were a mirage on the verge of disappearing.
"He didn't say anything out of the ordinary, but it bolsters my point, doesn't it?" Buster said with a slight quirk of a smile that came across as smug to Cleo. "Since it's pretty obvious by now that I won't be able to convince you to stop working for Crystal, all I ask is a little favor. When Crystal called, he bragged about his next move. Just as a courtesy, I'd like a little heads up about what to expect next, since this is supposed to be about accountability and all."
Cleo stiffened up, tucked her limbs close to her body as if the temperature took a nosedive and she was keeping the warmth in. Just the sight left Buster unsettled. "I think we've reached the end of our conversation, Mr. Moon," she said, standing.
"Wait, wait! How bad is it?"
"You shouldn't worry about it," Cleo said, though she couldn't maintain eye contact with him for more than second.
"He wants me to squirm, you're telling me not to worry. I'm getting mixed messages here."
Cleo slipped her shades back on. "You're looking at this from the wrong perspective. The best thing you can do is focus on yourself right now." As she reached the front door, she cast a glance back at Buster and his troupe watching her abrupt exit with mostly bewilderment. "I know what's happening to you doesn't feel fair, but I want you to remember this. It's something I heard years ago, and it stuck with me: 'You don't have to be defined by your mistakes.'"
And with that said, she was out of the door, with Porsha right on her heels.
"Cleo, wait!" Porsha called out, shutting the door for some privacy, or as much privacy as one could get on a front lawn.
Cleo stopped and met Porsha with a sad smile. "I wish we could've had this reunion under better circumstances."
"Me too. It's just that, when you and my dad split..."
"I get it."
Porsha looked away, her gaze focused on the grass, her right hand running up and down her left arm. "How's my dad doing, really?"
"He's in a bad place, mentally," Cleo said. She paused, pondering if she should elaborate. "Angry, vengeful, obsessed, among other things. And the worst thing about it is, I can't in good conscience tell him that all of his feelings are unwarranted."
A flash of discomfort registered on Porsha's face. "Does he talk about me? Does he even think about me?"
"He's confused and feels betrayed. He doesn't understand why you turned on him. He thinks you might be brainwashed by Moon and stashed away here."
"That's ridiculous! I did what was right for me. He should be happy for me!"
"Are you happy here?"
Slowly, Porsha nodded. "I am. They treat me just like one of their own. Sometimes it feels like I've always been part of this... family."
"I'll tell him that, but you know how he is," Cleo warned.
"Just how bad are things with him? I... I keep thinking about how far he took things with Mr. Moon and I don't understand it. I know what you said about him but... why would he do that?"
"Your father's been held together by string for a while now. Moon unraveled that string. He snapped."
Porsha folded her arms in contempt. "It's such an overreaction. Daddy did this to himself." She was, however, surprised to find Cleo's face contorted with aggravation and a hint of disappointment.
"That's not entirely true, is it? See, the way I heard it, you ran and told daddy that you were fired so he would retaliate against Moon."
"I didn't know he was going to do that!"
"People can surprise us in the worst ways," Cleo said. "That's one of the dangers of manipulation. Sometimes I wonder if your father and Moon would have made amends if you hadn't blown up what was left of their business relationship."
Cleo's words landed like a sucker punch, forcing Porsha to take a step back and gather her bearings. No one had openly called her out for that, but the undercurrent of guilt was always there. When she found out that her dad almost killed Buster the first time over something she said, all the air was sucked right out of her lungs. And now she was experiencing that feeling again, all the confidence hollowed out and replaced with a monsoon of negative thoughts and emotions.
"That's not what I was..." Porsha felt a lump form in her throat. An angry, bitter lump. "Is that all you came here to do? Make everyone feel like crap and leave!?" she cried out.
Cleo gave a low sigh. "We've all got our faults in this," she said, her voice going soft.
"Oh really? What was yours?"
"Not being around to stop things from spiraling out of control," the snow leopard said, guilt seeping into her words.
Cleo made a brisk walk to her car, leaving Porsha alone on the lawn. Porsha felt so small, so empty that, no matter how gentle the afternoon breeze against her fur, she felt it would lift her weightless body and whisk her away to disappear into parts unknown.
And a tiny part of her thought everyone would be better off if she did.
A/N
Ryan was right! Talking to Cleo did make Porsha doubt herself! Don't worry, she's not going to disappear, but the next chapter is Porsha-centric. She's got some complex feelings to sort out.