Empirical Son FSOG
Chp05 Festivity Ominous
Saturday Grey manor: Elliott-pov
Walking about the yard, double checking the tents and infrastructure. Madison is ensconced with the women; Franco and crew just arrived; seem some new mega billionaire outbid them for his services this morning. Mom refuses to use any other stylist.
At least us men folk are presentable enough to not need another shorn. Three years ago, mom had Franco buzz cut my glorious mane, when I showed up for the gala a little ragged. She did not need to hose me down on the patio. I was going to take a shower before putting on the monkey suit. But she wasn't taking any chances.
My man Clint is due any minute. His maternal Great-Aunt Lisa is in town. The old broad is pushing toward into her mid-nineties. She loves seeing all thing her nephew builds. She was married for fifty years to a minster, who's day job was structural engineer, building roads all over the west coast. She was an elementary school teacher. They retired the same week; he died twenty years ago. Clint says she still misses him profoundly.
The old girl is a wild child, first time I met her, she offered to rock my world; blow my mind and flash the whole job site her assets and that was just four years ago. Wild child, I can see Madison like that when we get to that age and fear Grandma T will soon be there.
She's been exile from her assisted living center outside Astoria, for a month. Something about sponsoring, creating, a senior citizen Chippendale styled strip show slash fund raising event, slash Sex party, slash orgy last month. Clint's wife implied a European styled, male senior citizen performing, club styled blow job event. The exile is very confusing and changes by the hour.
Ha! Here is my man; seem distracted. What is up? "Hey Elliott, is your dad about?"
"Should be, why?"
"Clint?" Dad says walking from behind the high-end port-potty trailer with the Limey guy taking over the charity. Flynn something or other.
"I don't what you guys to lie to me. But did one or both of you guys buy the building?" Clint asks. What building? I am confused, looking at dad, he is too.
"Antikyreos building?" Clint defines are confusion
"No, Dad?" He shakes his head no. "Why?"
"Touring my Aunt Lisa by the building, the names changes and those fancy emblems on the glass are changed. The Henry Trastamara Holding Incorporated (HTH, Inc) seem to be gone. Replace with a big bold 'GREY HOUSE' and new etched emblems on the glass." Clint says
"Clint, you take a picture of the new one?"
"No, my five-year-old this morning had a tantrum, over Mister Roger being changed to a political discussion show. Threw, our nearly brand-new cell phones in the hot tub and shattered a window. An Aunt Lisa is locked up in the Astoria PD office, about fundraiser." Clint whines, like his son is not the apple of his eye, or a chip off the old blockhead.
"What is the new emblem?" Asks the Limey.
"Aunt Lisa says the new herald: dark blue purple lycoctonum on one side of a copper berserker wolf with a Baton sinister on its chest. The other side is a fleam, instrument used for bloodletting. All under a bar she called a Chief."
"That is a very disturbing psychological confession." Flynn says.
"What do you mean?" Dad asks, before I can.
"The front facing red eyed standing wolf is sometimes called a Berserker wolf, is also called a loner wolf. Showed up in the Fifties, in the military sometimes with private armies, like the wild geese symbol. Some Psychologists believe it denotes a person detached from society and humanity. With that Baton sinister. I would guess a very dangerous anti-social, possible psychotic."
"Baton sinister what" I ask
"Denotes a bastard, thus the person has proclaimed he is unwanted by his family. Not sure about the Fleam meaning other than symbol for doctor or ancient barber."
"Any idea what it means together?" Carrick asks.
"Chief denotes boss, the lycoctonum is commonly called Wolfs Bane, with the Berserker wolf; Really means sealgair madadh-allaidh air a sheachnadh or Wolf hunter. Not sure about the Fleam meaning in this context." Flynn says looking deeply out of the lake.
What was the old emblem?" Flynn asks, contemplation the horizon.
Pulling out my phone I show him the old emblem.
"That's a Helleborus plant. Old Greek legend, I think about curing insanity"
"Lou my head Plumber: He has a Doctor of Philosophy from Berkeley, he tried to explain; Cyparissus in Phocis, son of Orchomenus and brother of Minyas founded Antikyreos who cured Hercules's insanity."
"Plumber?" Flynn asks
"Couldn't get a job with it. Uncle of his talked him into the plumber trade as a fall back, and way to earn money during the summer breaks. He's a solid man."
"Cypariisus possible founded the island. In Euripides, Heracles, driven by forces outside rational human control; divine causation of his madness. Hera, His father, Zeus's wife. Conned into weaning him, her husband's bastard. As Revenge she tried to kill him, failing she caused madness. Killed his wife and children. I wonder how that relates to the other emblem?" Flynn muses.
"Could mean Werewolf?" Dad says. Really dad, a frigging werewolf?
"Elliott, Clint? Wipe those jackass smirks off. I was referring to legal concept, not the science fiction slash horror movie."
"The What? Theres a legal bases for werewolves" Clint asks
"It used to be called Jekyll and Hyde disorder." Flynn chirps in. Ok I don't get it?
"It means Elliott, a person who appears normal, sane, and lawful. Who turns into a monster. Lots of serial killers, profession hitmen, soldiers have it. One minute there Dr Jekyll next their monster Hyde."
Ok, I get it now. Several people in rehab had that shit. "Like someone going postal?"
"No, habitual."
"Like my father, who everyone in town thought was this upstanding, moral right, born again Christian. When at home he was an abuser, molester, sadist, and killer." Clint speaks zoning out on the past pain. I hug him, letting my strength care him right now. I can't even begin to understand a fifteen-year kid watching his mother tie a rope to a bridge, then jump over the side on the same day he buried his ten-year-old sister; Beaten and raped to death by his father. Dad knows the story and hugs us both.
"Enough dark shit. We have a party to get on the road." Flynn brings us back to the here and now.
"Don't know, Monday we will look into it." Says dad. The building, my crown jewel will have to wait.
Xxxxx
Franco-pov
"Remember dea perfetta, don't let the uomini delle caverne mess up my fiore delizioso, perfetta fiore. Or its twice the fee tonight. Cleo and I will be at the tent next to the trailers, to do touch up, not rebuild the colosseum. Sottintendere?" I plea with the ladies. Grace is such a perfect person; I donate my talents and one or two of my Beauty Specialist/Estheticians to do repairs and help smooth any angst. Beside it usually double my business afterwards.
Kissing each lady's hand, I start to walk out, an remember the bellezza disinteressata, beautiful Miss Steele so unaware how perfect and rare a flower she is. Beautiful inside and outside.
"Scusa duchessa?" Grace turns back to me. "I just remembered; a giovane signorina is attending the gala tonight; her first. Bellezza disinteressata. Scusa Miss Steele, is her name and she is very nervous as you can imagine. I hope you can give a little assistere."
"bellezza disinteressata?"
"She is unaware how beautiful she is inside and out. A rare lady. Much like yourself. Dea perfetta, she is coming with a company table. Her fiancée is the CEO."
"Do you know the company?"
"No, Scusa. I have forgotten. If I remember I will send a note. But once you see her; You will have no doubt who I am talking about. Fino a tardi dea." I kiss her hand and head to the tent and nap before the rush of ladies in desperate need of our magic and camouflage. Ashbury Park was never like this.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
2hours later:
Standing in the entrance as the guest arrive, Carrick is his normally perfect turn out self. Madsion has Elliott looking very sharp and urban. Rather than his normal lazy surfer-bum. Amelia date, a Chef from Richland of all places, is so gay it screams thru a bullhorn. But he seems a nice lad. Amelia says he a god of sauces and soups.
We break down the greeting line. The only no shows are a new donor and her company. Senyora Doria's Hawk is the only name listed.
I remember the letter logo was a strange hawk; a large raptor greyish-brown with a black-barred crown and upperparts, whitish underparts, a black streak behind the eye, dark brown irises, a blackish bill, and greenish-yellow legs. I'd never seen such a bird; at least in North America. They are a large group maybe traffic has slowed them. Well, we will see them at the tables; they are next to ours.
Henry, Our security for tonight waves us over.
"Henry?" Carrick purrs; trying hard to not be stressed.
"The hawk's table sent additional security, eight guys. Most outside the entrance and lake exit. Three inside; they are dressed properly and have manners. Should not be a problem."
"Did they say why?" I ask
"The senior guy Samuel, says his boss has a new lady. An attempt on her has already occurred."
"Because of her boyfriend?" Carrick ask; assessing the risk.
"No. Her former boss attempted to drug, sexual assault. At least he tried. Little Miss kicked his ass. Samual said she left most of his teeth and parts of his jaw bone on the floor. Court case is coming up; but his minions are hunting her. So the case gets dropped." Henry grins, a little scary if you know him; he lost his FBI job by throwing a serial pedophile thru a second story window.
"Threat?" I ask
"No, her people have this and we are covered. So should not be any problems"
"Ok, Grace let's mingle before the Emcee gets started." We walk back and circulate thru the hoard.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hour later: outside the red carpet drop off for the Copping Together Charity Gala: A-pov
The seven of us have cruised to the elegant battlefield in a black stretch limo. Roz and Gwen look like Fashion model from Milan on their way to the Oscars. They must be using tape, a lot of tape, to keep the dresses from exposing themselves; didn't J. Lo or some famous person wear something like that.
Andrea and Barney are dressed like hipster out of SOHO. Barney looks very much the James Bond villain. Getting Gwen's whole villain side kick reference now.
Andrea's gold mini dress borders on obscene; Hopeful she does not squat, or everyone will see everything. I fear for Barney dancing with her; her girls, cocked and locked in that push up bra, may take his eye out or break his nose.
My dress is a grandmotherly cut blue tinted silver gown, backless nearly showing my thong. The front is demur in that my belly button is not showing in my cleavage, just barely not showing. Chirstian dumped on me at the last minute, laughing at this little grandmotherly demur rag; if Veronica Lake or Ava Gardner was the Grandmotherly cougar.
Christian gifted me drop Saphire ear rings. And matching neckless that I really fear is a million or more and dangerously keeps beating on my solar-plex. Speeding my heart, and nerves. How can I get through the next few hours without hurling or melting down into a emotional puddle of mud.
He lightened my worry with a wonderfully whimsical ankle charm cuff. Disney's Goofy with Christian name on the back was priceless, showing my man's human side. My name on Snow White's Apple Gifting Crone, laughing at his love. And humor. Me evilly tempting Prince Goofy into my dastardly clutches.
Andrea hands out the masks; this is a masquerade ball after all. Christian is of course adorned in an angry wolf matte black mask with a red tinting around the eyes and fangs. It seems to suck in the light around it. My lace off white with crystal chips sparkles. Roz's mask like Christian's, except her's a normal Wolf face in golden hues. Gwen's mask is like mine, but a color shifting weave with crystal chips. Andrea's in a classic slim black mask. While Barney is sporting a Khada Jhin mask further advancing his villainous desires. Andrea forbade his vintage Ultraman mask.
We arrived; everyone leaves. But us two. The war is here and now. Talyor knocks the roof. It now or never. You can do this Annastasia Steele. If not for yourself than your man. He looks petrified. Leaning over, taking his hand, and kissing the knuckle. He smiles, maybe going home to bed is not such a bad idea.
But no, he steps out of the limo: Pulling me out and into the limelight. Starting down the impossible long red carpet; the flash bulbs explode. Great frigging assholes! I am now blind. With my history of tripping on everything and anything, including dust motes. I hope all these obscene blinding paparazzi asshats sees my pimply ass and furry thong the frigging perverts.
Christian keeps me up and safe. My ear hurt from the questions, normal to obscene. One in particularly pisses me off. Asking if I'm a man in drag and rent boy in the same breath. I communicate to the uncivil hoard of perverts with a universal hand gesture. Christian luckily gets me into the event before I can follow up the silent gesture with a verbal assault.
Sliding his mask up a little, he kisses the happy into me. "Bad Anna, Behave." Gwen giggles. Mingle time is over. Thank God! Taking Christian arm, we follow Roz to the table; Great right next to the Enemy.
Seated, I buffer Christian from his family. Everyone in the tent is staring at us. The new Mega-rich shiny toys. We wait for them to recognize their son. They don't. We relax as the evening wears on.
The emcee is lame and tired. The same old shit the same old way. I've never been to one of these before; An even I recognize worn out jokes and emcee prattle off-timing. The meal arrives; we eat. Christian does not remove his mask. He is not ready yet for the fight. I don't know if it's me. I whisper insane, irrelevant, and sexual prose in his ear, licking the most important points of grammar and spelling. Ignoring the world to just be his.
The meal is finished, most of the silent auction is done. The last item is a week-long stay at the Grey's Idaho vacation home. The bid starts at ten thousand. I need to force Christian to interact with his family. Can't let the war simmer. Making everyone miserable. Letting them chose the ground for battle.
Now that we are here. His assured forth right manners and certainty has fled. Wondering if it's me or his inner demons; what's really holding him back. Before my mind can get the right thoughts out.
"Thirty thousand!" Spills from my mouth.
Christian looks at me, smiles. Leaning into whisper in my ear "I do not know whether to worship you or spank you?"
"Option two works for me." Teasing into his sexy eyes. I can't believe two days ago I was a virgin. Or suicidal a week ago. How far I've come is so short a space.
"Thirty-five thousand" says an asshole over on the right.
"Fifty thousand!" Christian barks. Pointing at me.
"No other bids; you sir? Going once, twice, Sold to Young lady" the Emcee laughs. The crowd cheers and claps. I hide in his shoulder. Unused to the attention.
"Why?" Christian whispers
"Because? Now you must talk to them. If for no other reason, to arrange our stay." giggling whisper in his ear. My happy boy is coming back.
Gwen leans over "Wicked girl, do you even ride?"
"Why lady Gwen; Of course I ride. Did you not hear us yesterday in the office. We heard your cowgirl practice. Although we thought you were having bible study at first. All that 'oh God'." Gwen and Roz turn beat red, as Barney near slides under the table in laughter. Christian is snorting and coughing to stop his laughter.
Andrea laughs. "What brought that on?"
"Something about a memo; sound proofing inadequate in the CEO office." I laugh.
"You Miss Steele are so frigging dead. Watch out little, little girl" Roz laughs.
"Bring it on Roz, baby. Fun-sized little me is shaking in my boots. BFF?"
"Well, Captain? For a price? I can rub her ears and make it all go away. Hands to yourself bartender; I am negotiating our Christmas vacation."
"Rub my ears?" Roz sounds confused while starting to purr under Gwen ear stroking.
"All Ferengi, melt in my sensual hands. [she rubs Roz ear, who lets out a louder purr] Now Captain? Three weeks in the Caribbean on Lover boy's old decrepit thirty-foot power yacht, with crew."
"Done. If Roz's and you come to Thanksgiving at my father's place."
"Done." Gwen laughs as she fends off Roz's hand under the table.
"Well, that's solved, you two idiots. Now it's my turn for mirth and mayhem. Come along you evil twins. We have a game to play with spouses." Andrea stands, herding Gwen and me towards the stage.
Standing in line, near the end. Not paying any attention to the rest of the girls or what is happening. Gwen and I, heads close, working out next weekend's double date. The state fair starts next weekend. We are going. One of Gwen art friend's is having a concert. Funky, all girl Ska band. Our ensign slaves are going to love it; even if it kills them.
"Gentlemen? The Lovely Madsion. Star of stage and screen and DVD. Trombone maestro, Olympic Synchronized Swimmers, and award-winning chef. Everyone's favorite's girlfriend. What is the first lapdog bid."
"One dollar" screams from the rear of the seating.
What the frigging hell? Insult bid? I've read in books; never thought I'd experience one. I look about the stage, but the other girls and staff block my view.
"Forty thousand!" rings out in the tent.
Looking out low below the stage; the tall surfer from the Grey's table, Christian's brother. The girl jumps into his arms. A blond like Kate. No could not be. She's in New Zealand: living her dreams. Isn't she. Doubts cloud my mind.
Andrea goes next, forty grand as well. Bring me back to the present. Another girl's heartbroken to go for measly five thousand. Then Christian little sister. Thirty thousand.
Gwen steps up on stage. This is going to be good. She struts and vamps; teasing her lady and the crowd. Shit! A bidding war between Roz and two other ladies. The bid hit eighty thousand to a blond Cougar in a long nose mask. Roz looks at Christian, flips him the finger, laughing like a loon.
"One hundred thousand! Eat that, want to be's." She challenges the old matron.
Gwen steps down from the stage and into Roz arms; going all Hollywood dipping kiss. The tent erupts in cheers. Laughing as a waiter indicates my turn on stage. My penance for making Kate and everyone else stand in the limelight; I'm so going to heave or pee or both up there. Stepping up onto the stage. It can't get any worse. I'm sure of that. I see Christian, and everything is good.