The Siege (27 page)

“Don’t you walk by me, missy, without stopping for your breakfast,” Mama warned as she popped her head out of the bright yellow-painted airstream trailer.  “The Dukkering can’t be done proper on an empty stomach.”

“I’m late.  Guillaume didn’t wake me up this morning,” Bev explained.

“Nonsense, all that’s about are lot lice. You’re not going to see a mark for hours.  Come in for a gossip. The Toby News is agog with the antics of that new outside talker.”

“The Brit that keeps dropping ‘is aitches?” Beverly asked interested, climbing into the nicely-appointed travel trailer.

“He’s got the town’s womenfolk dressing up high style.” Mama danced around, swinging her hips dangerously in the small space.  Still, she managed to pour a cup of coffee and slide two eggs off the griddle without losing a single beat of the zany impersonation of a burlesque performer.

“Ever since the Beatles, womankind has lifted their skirts for a bit of accented come-on,” Beverly sniffed.

“Seems to me that a certain island accent has you lifting yours,” Mama observed, slipping into the booth across from her.

“Guilty.”

They went on to talk smack about that suitcase act that showed up moments after Randy, the veteran outside talker, blew his pipes and was on the walking dead list until further notice.

“He has been sending the love-struck girls in my direction.  I guess I owe him a take of the tips,” Bev grumbled.

“Better for you to offer compensation then for him to demand it,” counseled Mama.  “This way, you can entice him to work for you and for you alone.  Old Maggie draws more marks than you, but he’s got the front door and will direct the patrons your way.”

Beverly got up and took Mama’s plate and her own to the tiny sink.  “You are a shrewd business woman.”

“There’s more than snot behind my rubber nose,” Mama assured her.

Beverly walked to the front of the lot and didn’t see the talker anywhere around.  She stopped at the ticket booth and asked One-eye Louie to send the talker over when he had time.

“I’ll deliver the message, but I don’t like that fellow.  I think I seen him before.  I swear he was drinking with Randy and some candy butchers the night before Randy’s voice went… But I don’t see things too well lately.”

“I’ll be careful.  This is business, just business,” she assured the arthritic brother-in-law of the sideshow manager.

Gerald halted the memory. He took a moment to look around the carnival.  He noticed the shadows were longer than they should have been at that hour of the day.  The place had an electricity to it that would prickle the thumbs of even an amateur medium.  Why hadn’t Beverly, young as she was, picked up on it?

He watched her move to the tent and deal with a few early patrons.  There was nothing much to enlighten him here so he sped up his reading.  It wasn’t until darkness had fallen when he slowed down her memory and concentrated on the spectacle before him.

“My momma swears that I’ll be a star.  She’s taking me to an audition with a real Hollywood producer. He’s a friend of my step-daddy.  I’d like to know if I will be successful?

Beverly could see that this beautiful young girl was in jeopardy before she even held her hand.  The cheap blouse, sizes too small, strained at the young girl’s chest.  Beverly grasped the child’s hand, and images she’d rather not see filled her head.  The child hadn’t been molested, but she had been paraded up and down beauty pageant runways, collecting the wrong kind of glances from the criminals that ran them.  The only spark of good in the child’s life was an overbearing grandmother who insisted that the young thing finish school before going anywhere.  Beverly knew that fate had delivered her this child for her to guide to safety.

“I see that you are indeed talented.  I worry that you may be heading to Hollywood too soon.  The role you are meant to have requires smart dialogue and a knowledge of …” Beverly stopped and flipped through her memory of classes she didn’t take because it was only available to the college bound.  “You need to speak and read French.”

“French!”

“That’s what the role will demand.  Do you speak and read French?”

“No.”

“This is a breakout role.  If you go to Hollywood now, you’ll just get little roles.  You will get pregnant and end up a housecleaner for a Motel 6.”

The child’s jaw dropped.  There would be no tip for Beverly.

“But how? Mamma don’t want me around.  Say’s I’m too distracting.”

Beverly picked up her hand and pronounced, “Your grandmother will open up her house and take you in.  If you study hard after you graduate, you will get your breakout role, and you will thank me.”

“My granny did say that I belonged with her.  She’s my granny on my father’s side.”

“Go straight to her, and tell her that you need her guidance.  Tell her you want to stay in school and that your mother doesn’t want you home any longer.”

“I will.  Thank you.  I’ll be famous one day, and you’ll be first on my list to thank, gypsy lady.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Beverly said and walked the girl to the open flap of the tent and watched as a she ran to a group of school friends and told them all about her reading.

“You did a good thing, Beverly Cooper,” a deep voice said beside her.

She turned slowly, composing herself before she addressed the speaker.

“It isn’t polite to listen in,” she scolded.

“You asked me to come ‘ere.” The gray-suited man asked, “Mind telling me what it’s about?”

Beverly looked around and saw Old Maggie lurking outside of her tent.  “You better come inside.”

“For the record, you are inviting me inside.”

“Yes, moron,” Beverly snapped.  She entered the small dark tent and sat down.  “Sit.”

The gray-suited man sat down, tugging at his pant legs as he did.  He swung a thin leg over the other, the bell bottom hem made a swishing sound as it connected with the silk of the over scarf of the table.

“I’ve asked you here, ah… What’s your name?”

“Richard Chapman.”

“Mr. Chapman, I wanted to thank you for sending me patrons, and I would like to give you a percentage of my tips.”

“Not necessary.”

“Yes it is.  Lets’ work out an arrangement.  You send me the marks with large BRs, and I’ll give you, let’s say, ten percent.”

“No.”

“Fifteen percent, that’s more than an agent in Hollywood gets.”

“No, Beverly, I ‘ave a different proposal in mind.”

Beverly stood up and pointed her finger.  “Get out!  I’m not offering you anything but money.  Get your skinny English ass out of here.”

“Calm down,” Richard said.  He pulled out a folded piece of parchment and opened it up.  “Sit.”

Beverly didn’t know why she did so, but she sat.

“I’m ‘ere to offer you a position of importance in the company of ‘arvey and Associates as a closer for their soul-gathering operational division.”

“Pardon me?” Bev asked.

“Soul gathering, you do know what a soul is, don’t you?” he drawled.

“Don’t take that condenscending tone with me, you ass.  Of course I know what a soul is.  But what would give you the audacity to offer me this position?”

“You ‘ave certain skills.  My client needs these skills.  ‘e instructed me to offer you the position.”

“As a soul snatcher?”

“Yes,” Richard said and pushed the contract forward for her to read.

Beverly took the time to read all the fine print.  The more she read, the madder she got.  “I’m sorry, but this isn’t a job offer.  It is a contract of enslavement.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve got the nerve to come to me to negotiate my enslavement to Harvey and Associates?” she said, pushing down her anger.

“Yes.”

“What are you?  A devil, a demon?”

“An Other.”

“Another what?”

An O T H E R.”

“You’re going to have to run that by me again. Do you mean aitch or haitch?”

The man’s face grew dark, and he, after much difficulty, managed to spout a reasonable sounding H.

“See, how ha ha hard can that be?” Beverly said, emphasizing the H sound.

Richard just glared at her.

“So it seems to me, my mother talked about your kind before.  Not in a kind way, but we’ll forgo that for the present.  You’re a wheeler-dealer.  An enslaver of the innocent.”

“Pah.  There are no innocents.”

“She said, if I straddled the line between good and evil, I would attract your kind.”

“That is true.”

“Explain, what did I do that was so wishy-washy?”

“You use your powers to lie to people for their own good.”

Beverly scratched her head.  “I guess I do that.  Everyone does that.”

“Most sensitives don’t.”

“Ah, so I’m a valuable commodity because I straddle the fence, and I’m a sensitive.”

“Yes.  I could ‘ave sold you to a power of good, but they weren’t interested.”

“I wouldn’t think so.  They have trailers full of good souls, I imagine,” Beverly joked.

“They promote from within.”

Beverly studied the man in front of her.  He seemed ill at ease in her presence.  She would use this against him.  “What is your job exactly?”

“I get myself invited into your ‘ome.  I bring you the deal.  I negotiate the deal.  If you turn down the deal, I bring in my associates, and we take you anyway.”

“So why bother negotiating in the first place or getting yourself invited in at all if you are just going to take me and enslave me regardless?”

“There are proper procedures that must be followed.”

“If I walk away from the negotiation, then I lose,” Beverly clarified.

“Yes.”

“What ha ha happens if you leave?”

“It won’t ‘appen.”  The man pushed the paper towards Beverly.  His hand was shaking.

Beverly twisted her lips, trying not to smile.  “I’m sorry, but I must know.  If you walk away or don’t follow proper procedures, then what ha ha happens?”

Richard scowled.  “I leave, and you’re never approached again.”

“Well, gee, Richard, I have some ha ha hard facts for you.  One, this isn’t my home.  So, I didn’t invite you into my home.  I don’t have my name on the deed of the land this carnival sets on.  My home is up north in a small town in Illinois.  Two, the name you have on here is Beverly Cooper.  I’m Beverly Anne Cooper.  A small adjustment is needed.  Here, you may want to take this back and fix it.”

Richard snatched the contract and stormed out of the tent before he realized she just tricked him.  He turned around and dropped the paper.  It burnt to ash before it touched the ground.

“Ha ha have a nice time explaining this to ha ha Harvey and Associates,” Beverly said waving.

The Other disappeared, followed by a deep rumble.

Beverly put her hand on her stomach.  “Time for dinner.”

Gerald pulled out of her mind.  He picked up his satellite phone and dialed his assistant.  “Arthur, do a title search on the Martin farmhouse and get back to me.”

Bev raised an eyebrow.  “You and I were thinking the same thing.  If Ted didn’t put Mia’s name on the farmhouse…”

Gerald frowned.  “She does own the frontage of the property. I negotiated that purchase from April for her.”

“I doubt that Mia is standing on the side of the road talking to an Other.”

Gerald’s satphone rang.  “Yes, Arthur,” Gerald answered.

Bev watched his face as it went from concern to jubilation.  “Her name is definitely not on the deed to the house.  Yes, an oversight that I’ll have Mr. Martin take care of at the turn of the year.  Thank you, Arthur.  Yes?  No, she owns the peninsula property and the easement off the farm road.  She’s inherited the ranch home and property from Rose Malloy.  I don’t think Ted was too worried.  Yes, we must look out for her.  Thank you again.”

Gerald took a moment to settle down from the lecture his assistant just gave him.

“Well?”

“We have our loophole.”

“Now we just have to get to her in time,” Bev reminded him.

Chapter Twenty-one

Mia graciously showed Richard into the living room.  “I had Ted light a fire in the fireplace.  I have to admit I’m chilled to the bone, you?”

Richard, taken back by the hospitality and concern, didn’t have an answer.  He wasn’t used to spending this much time negotiating a contract, let alone in the company of humans.

“You don’t mind if my husband sits in, do you?”

“This doesn’t concern him.”

“Oh, but it does.  It concerns me and our child; I’d say it concerns him.”

Ted grasped Mia’s hand, and the two of them sat together on the worn but comfortable sofa.  Richard took the chair opposite the couple.  He fidgeted, unused to courtesy.  He was used to fear, then resignation.

“I believe you said you had a contract?”

Richard pulled a folded piece of parchment out of his suit coat pocket.  “I represent an entity that is interested in your services for eternity.”