CHAPTER 138: Once You Are Seated, The Test Will Begin

 

Jeremy Saint had finished his morning jog around the neighbourhood but something was playing on his mind.  Usually he would come home after a run and grab a glass of water or fruit juice but this time he headed straight for the bedroom and sat down in silence on the bed.  His girlfriend, Barbara, knew the signs that all was not well with him.

She knocked on the bedroom door.  "Are you OK, sweetie?" she said.

"Oh, yeah, you can come in if you like" came Jeremy's reply from inside.

She walked in to see him there, still in his running gear, sitting on the bed with a serious expression on his face.  She could guess what it was.

"Worried about today's interview?" she asked, gently.

Jeremy let out a sigh.  "Yeah, it's the third and final one and I haven't prepared for it...well, I can't prepare for it:  Landgraab's haven't told me a single thing about it other than the time, the place and that I have to attend.  I don't know what they're going to ask me or what I'm expected to do.  They've seen my resume, they've seen my portfolio and they've interviewed me...what could this third interview be about?"

"Maybe that's the point?  They don't tell you anything in advance so they can throw some questions at you to see how you react spontaneously?  But I'm sure you can cope with chance and randomness...after all, that's how we met" she said, smiling warmly at him.

"You're saying I should stop getting wound up and go with the flow, eh?" he replied.

"Precisely.  Now make sure you're not late.  You go and have a shower and I'll lay out your suit on the bed for you."

An hour later both of them had headed off to work.  For Barbara, she hit the ground running at Pack's Clothing, which was particularly busy today...

Meanwhile Jeremy had arrived at the Landgraab Corporation building and was instructed to report to Room 142.  The officious secretary there told him, starkly, to proceed to another room...Number 9...on the ground floor, where he would find an elevator that led down one level.

"What room do I go to from there?" asked Jeremy.

"You'll already BE in that room" she said, curtly.

Jeremy followed the directions down to the ground level and then on to a door right at the back of the building.  This part was deserted, where no employee set foot by the looks of things and, if he didn't get his directions right, there was no one to ask for help.

He approached the door to room 9 and knocked on it.  There was no answer.  He tried knocking again and there was still no response from within.  He slowly turned the door handle and found it was unlocked.  Slowly opening the door he poked his head around it and found it was uninhabited.  What was contained in the room were ducts, pipes, machinery and all kinds of industrial accoutrements:  Could this possibly be the correct room or had he stumbled into the maintenance room by mistake?  However, there was an elevator at the far end and he remembered that the officious secretary said to take it down one level...

The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside it, the brushed aluminium walls contained no mirror and only two buttons:  Up and down.  Jeremy pushed down and wondered what would be waiting for him there.

The doors opened and revealed a large, sparse dark room illuminated by a single bank of lights on the wall behind the elevator.  There was almost nothing in this room except for an ultra modern chair atop a low dais and, facing it, a large projector screen flanked by two speakers.

A voice boomed from the speakers.  "Please sit down, facing the screen.  Once you are seated, the test will begin..."

Jeremy slowly made his way to the chair and sat down, not knowing what to expect.  

Then the room went completely dark before light from the projector screen came on to provide some illumination.  Strange, electronic music emanated from the speakers and a series of images appeared on the screen.

A deep, booming voice came from the speakers.

"THE LANDGRAAB CORPORATION...SINCE 1810 IT HAS GROWN FROM A SMALL, PROSPERIOUS TRADING COMPANY TO THE MASSIVE CONGLOMERATION IT IS TODAY.  EVERYTHING YOU USE, EVERYTHING YOU WEAR, THE TOOLS YOU DEPEND ON EVEN  WHERE YOU LIVE....MADE BY OR PROVIDED BY LANDGRAAB...."

Oh great...thought Jeremy...one of those motivational publicity films.

"FROM BIRTH, THROUGH LIFE AND UNTO DEATH:  LANDGRAAB IS WITH YOU, EVERY SINGLE STEP OF THE WAY"

Jeremy sat there watching to the montage of all the "achievements" and aspects of the Landgraab Corporation whilst listening to the commentary but every so often an image accompanied by a word would flash before his eyes.  Images that passed so quickly they were recognised unconsciously by him.

Jeremy remembered that time he met with Geoffrey and had a warm memory from it.  That was the day Geoffrey had offered him a position at the corporation...yes, he was being friendly that time.  Actually he was always friendly to Jeremy...

Wait...how did they get a photograph of them that day?  The thought had evaporated when the next images appeared on the screen.  But then an image of Nancy Landgraab came and went in a flash.

Wait, what?  Jeremy thought.  That's Mrs Landgraab...although his own mother had fair hair and green eyes like Nancy's.  But then another warm thought came into his mind...Mrs Landgraab was a mother, a carer, someone who shoulders maternal responsibility.  More images flashed by him in an instant.

Was that Edna Sneedley on a "League of Decency" protest?

I get it, he thought, bins are my enemy?  Maybe the garbage collectors?

Action?  My enemy?  But....

Yes...Geoffrey is my friend.

Suzy...Suzy....is....my....

Action...Action...is....my...ENEMY!

THE VISITORS ARE OUR FRIENDS said the booming voice over the speakers.

"The....Visitors...." Jeremy replied, dazed and increasingly confused by the pulsating sound and flashed images.

THE VISITORS ARE OUR FRIENDS....LEARN THE WORDS, SAY THE WORDS

"The....Visitors....are our.....friends" he gasped.

SAY IT AGAIN

"The Visitors are....our friends"

LOUDER!

"THE VISITORS ARE OUR FRIENDS!"

WHO IS SUZY KENT?

"Suzy Kent is...my..."

SAY IT!

"Suzy Kent is....my....ENEMY!"

The music and film stopped.  The lights came up again.  Jeremy sat there in a trance.  Slowly, he started to regain his senses.

Thank you, Mr Saint.  The test is now complete.  You may leave.

"Wait?  Was that it?  Surely it hasn't started yet!  I just sat down in the chair and..."

You may leave.

"But what was the test?  When will I know the result?"

You will be informed.  Stand by for further instructions.

Meanwhile, back at Pack's Clothing, Barbara had her hands full selling clothes and redressing mannequins.  The stock was flying off the shelves today.  She didn't have time to notice a well known customer approach her.

"Are you the manager?" came a snooty, refined voice.  Barbara turned around and saw Nancy Landgraab standing behind her.

"Yes I am, how may I help you?" Barbara replied.

"My name is Nancy Landgraab, maybe you've heard of me?"

"I have.  Is there something in particular you desire from our range?"

"Yes, I have a very important social event to attend....very important, you understand, and I require the most 'with it' party dress you have."

"A with-it party dress you say?  Let me think what we have in store...."

"I saw something in your shop window that is pleasing to my eye.  The blue dress with the chiffon sleeves."

"Oh that?  Yes, let's take a look and see if we have one in the correct size.  Is this dress for a younger relative?"

"It is for ME!" came Nancy's cold, harsh reply.

"The only reason I ask is that is a very young, contemporary look, generally favoured by those in their late teens or early 20s..." replied Barbara, apologetically.

"I keep my body in the peak of condition, Miss.  I am the same dress size now that I was when I was 20.  Which wasn't that long ago...."

"Of course..." said Barbara, diplomatically.

She found the dress in two sizes and offered them both to Mrs Landgraab to try on.  Nancy emerged, a few minutes later with the larger of the two sizes.  "This one fits me the best.  Hmmm, it shows off my legs to wonderful effect!" she said, pleased with herself.

Barbara had to admit that Nancy Landgraab still had the legs, and body, even at her age.  Her face, however, seemed set in a permanent sneer and which betrayed her true age.  However, that particular dress was one of the most expensive items sold in the shop and it was yet another satisfying ring of the cash register till at the end of the day.

When she had flipped the shop sign to "closed", she looked at all the empty spaces on the clothes racks and shelves and counted the takings.  At that moment, Jeremy had arrived.

"Oh Jeremy!  This has been the best day's business since we opened!  $1,400 dollars in takings this day alone...even with ground rent and restocking that puts us in a clear profit!" she said.

"That's........great" he said, haltingly.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" she asked him.

"I've got a headache, that's all." he replied.

"Oh, sorry to hear that.  Anyway, how did your interview go?"

"It....was....fine.  Yes, fine" he said, distracted by trying to remember what had happened but failing to think of a single thing that happened from the moment he sat down in that strange chair to the moment he stood up and left.

"That's good" said Barbara, looking concerned because she could tell all was not well with him.  But she didn't want to press him.  "Listen, sweetie, I've got a little bit of stocktaking to do but how about we celebrate your work and mine by going out to dinner tonight?" she asked.

"I'd like that.  I'd like that very much" he said with a thin smile.

The Villa Bovine was their destination and, after stopping by home to change into more appropriate outfits, they were soon savouring the menu and the wonders on it.

"I was thinking" said Barbara "Suzy and Neil's wedding is coming up soon and I haven't a suitable outfit for the occasion!"

"What you're wearing now would be fine.  I'm not bothering to get anything new" Jeremy replied, flatly.

"Really?  I mean, wouldn't you want something a bit more snazzy than your work suits?" she asked.

"They'll do fine.  I'll probably won't be going anyway" he replied, curtly.

"Not going?  But we're invited and Suzy's one of your oldest friends!" said Barbara, shocked.

"Friend?  I hardly think so.  She's nothing but trouble that one"

"Jeremy, I'm shocked to hear you say that!  We're neighbours, friends..."

"We'll be moving out soon, what with my pay rise.  Good riddance to Suzy...and Action for that matter"

"Jeremy, this is a complete turnaround for you!  These are people we know and like"

"LOOK!  CAN WE STOP TALKING ABOUT SUZY KENT AND JOHN ACTION!  Just for one evening?" he said in a sudden outburst.

Barbara dropped the subject.  Something had happened to Jeremy...what that was, she didn't know.  He barely mentioned his job interview today except to say it went 'well'; whatever that meant.  He was clearly upset by something but he was revealing nothing.  She had to keep a close eye on him...was it a co-incidence that as he was having his final interview at the Landgraab Corporation, Nancy Landgraab had visited the boutique?  Surely a woman as wealthy and as influential as her would shop at the finest couturiers or, instead, have all her clothes perfectly tailored by the top fashion houses?  No, she was visiting Pack's Clothing for something other than a few blue wisps of nothing much.  In a world of mysteries, Barbara added another one to the growing list.

CHAPTER 137: George's Little Secret

 

Edna Sneedley began her day by bathing, getting dressed, having breakfast and finding things that annoyed her on the news.  After a particularly strenuous television news watching session, she had found 12 things that annoyed her and of those 8 required the sending of stern letters to the people responsible for stopping those sorts of things.

Outside of Sneedley Burrow, she noticed Geoffrey Landgraab out on his daily run and decided to approach him as he was taking a breather.

"Geoffrey...so lovely to see you.  What a fine morning this is" she said.

"It is, Edna.  Are you and George keeping well?"

"We are, thank you Geoffrey.  Can I bend your ear just a little?"

"Is it about your cause?"

"Yes, I do hope we can count on your continued support"

"Don't worry, Edna, I won't cut the donations to your League of Decency...not while you're targeting the right people."

"Why thank you, Geoffrey.  Do give my regards to Nancy"

It was important to keep important, powerful...and wealthy...people onside and Edna was always ready and prepared to do that.

She returned home in preparation to go to work, which meant putting on her campaigning suit and league badge and getting her clipboard and pens ready.  She was going to do some serious canvassing and market research downtown and was prepared to put in the long hours on foot.

"Right, I'm off, George.  Hopefully I'll be back before you head off to work" she said, calling to her husband.

"Do you know what time you'll be back, dear?  I mean, to the nearest hour?" he replied.

"I would say not before 3pm"

"3pm...got it"

"Well, have a nice day, dear.  See you later."

Edna grabbed her bag, clipboard and pens and left, shutting the door firmly behind her.  George watched her head off down the road to the subway station and, when she was out of sight, he breathed a heavy sigh and put his plan into action.

It had been some months since he and Edna had spent a considerable time of the day apart:  They were often seen as a permanent double act.  Now she had become more involved in campaigning and would be out and about without him for long stretches of the day, George could indulge in his little "hobby" a little bit more.

He headed downstairs, into the basement bunker they had constructed during the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962.  There, tucked away in a storeroom, there was a suitcase containing what he required.

He found it, dusted off a cobweb and returned upstairs; his heart already beating faster at the prospect of what he was going to do.

He headed straight for the main bedroom and stripped down to his underwear, then he opened up the suitcase and looked around for a make up bag contained within it.  Today, George was going to transform into his alter-ego:  Georgina.

He sat down at the dressing table and laid out the make up and brushes before him.  He had made sure he was clean shaven after awakening that morning so his face was smooth.  Then, he started applying the foundation and got to work changing his looks.

"Georgina" began life back when he was 18 years old and serving in the navy in WW2.  He was stationed on some backwater atoll in the Pacific, far away from the front line danger, where life got boring and servicemen had to make their own entertainment.  It was an environment without women and Bob Hope, Betty Grable and the U.S.O. never visited.  To keep up morale, the base put on their own concerts and men who could sing, dance, play a musical instrument or act were roped in to perform.  George, being the youngest, got picked on to play the girl parts.  He was a lot skinnier in those days and had a round, fresh and smooth face which meant he got cast as the pretty girl in plays and skits.  The first time he dragged up, he got a thrill, found he enjoyed the experience and did well so he got cast again and again...soon he had the reputation of being the "go-to girl" whenever the topic of putting on a show came around.  

This persisted even after the war and into Korea as well.  His role had changed when actual nurses, WAVES and female personnel were stationed where he was and they could play the pretty girls on stage.  He instead became an Ugly Sister, or comedy drag act.  He didn't mind:  He liked the make up, the wigs and getting to wear frocks....although he never admitted it to anyone.

In civilian life the urge to dress up in women's clothing remained, indeed, it seemed to intensify.  He had built up a collection of outfits, wigs and developed his make up skills.  Even after marrying Edna he managed to get dressed up as Georgina on the odd occasion.  It was kept secret from her as well.  No one knew except George.  He liked the fact he had a secret no one else knew.

Once the make up was on, he took out a wig from the suitcase and brushed it.  Then he carefully placed it on his head, brushing and combing it so it looked smooth and as natural as possible.  He was getting very excited by now.

Now it was time to shed the last vestiges of his male attire so he stripped off his underwear and exchanged it for lingerie.  He padded his brassier to give himself a bit of a bosom, although he noticed that he had the beginnings of man boobs himself (to diet or not to diet; that was the question), and strapped on a garter belt.  As he slipped on a pair of sheer stockings, his heart was really pounding now in excitement.

Finally he selected a flowing pink dress and matching heels and put them on.  His transformation was now complete:  He was now "Georgina", a lady.  He twirled around, flicked his long hair and let out a giggle.

As Georgina, she walked around the house enjoying the feeling of the clothes and mincing about.  It had been such a long time since she had done this and there was a sensation of release. 

She thought about Edna, who was a style role model for Georgina.  George had always been impressed by Edna's fashion sense and was envious of it...but it had been some years since he was able to fit into her clothes so he started buying his own.  But the fashion world was changing as well and this was creating a dichotomy in George's mind:  He was as appalled by the permissive society as his wife and yet...and yet...those new fashions were enticing.  He had seen hemlines rise and wondered what Georgina would look like in a mini skirt?  He had watched the Lothario Kittens prancing about at Cuffe's house and was shocked by their antics, but he coveted the outfit.  When he was in Pack's Clothing Boutique the other week with Edna he was looking at some of those outfits in envy whilst condemning them.  With these twin desires locked in a struggle in his head it caused him to have a "turn".  Edna thought it was a heart problem George had, triggered by shocks, but in reality it was a psychological battle going on in his mind.

Georgina was now comfortable and relaxed, the dress felt loose and flowing, her hosiery like a second skin, her hair felt natural.  She felt all 'housewifey' so she decided to do some chores, imagining that she was a dutiful housewife keeping the home all nice and neat while her partner was away at work.

After tidying up the house, she settled down to watch a daytime soap opera.

"Oh Stone!  What if Ridge catches us together?"

"He won't, Echo, I've seen to it that the brakes on his car will fail at the crucial moment! Bwa-ha-ha!"

"Don't go with him, Echo!  Stone's no good for you!" exclaimed Georgina at the TV screen.

The soap ended with the fate of Ridge Hardtackle held in the balance and Georgina then spent the next phase of her day prancing about, enjoying the dressing up experience and reading some of Edna's style magazines.  Every so often she checked herself out in the mirror and considered maybe next time doing something a bit different with her hair and make up.

It had been a joyous time for Georgina but she noticed the time and in about an hour Edna was due to return home.  Georgina couldn't be seen by her, nor any trace of her could linger in the house so, she knew it was time to become George again.  Transforming back was as methodical as becoming her:  Shoes off, then wig, dress, stockings and lingerie.  All had to be carefully folded and stowed back in the suitcase.

Then it was a matter of removing all the make up...he rubbed his face in the special goop women used to get rid of it, then made sure it was 100% off by washing his face in the sink in hot water.  Once he was sure every trace of it was gone, he put his male clothes back on and was George Sneedley once more.

With the last of the make up kit stowed away in the suitcase, he took it back down to its hiding place in the bunker basement.  He had made it with 15 minutes to spare so he got on with practicing mixing drinks for his job.  He was happy he had that time as Georgina but soon his very real wife would be returning and that pleased him as well.  Maybe one day they could meet, but he suspected Edna would not approve at all.

"George, dear, are you home?" came the sound of Edna's voice.

"Downstairs, at the wet bar, my sweet" he responded.

Edna's footsteps could be heard thumping as she came down the stairs.

"Hi, honey, I'm home" she said.  "Phew...what a day!  My feet are killing me.  It was a tough day at work but I think I got a lot accomplished.  Made a lot of good new contacts but DON'T get me started on the traffic!  Have you got a drink for me?"

"Here, have this.  I freshly prepared it" he replied.

"Oh you are such a dear, George.  Did you have a good day?"

"Oh yes, but it wasn't the same without you"

Edna downed her drink and shut her eyes.  "Ahhh, that was good:  I really needed that.  You wouldn't happen to have another there?"

"I certainly do" he said, pouring another gin and tonic for her.

He got up and walked over to where she was sitting.  Edna, her bravado fuelled by two gin and tonics, was checking out George.

"Hmmm, there's a definite swing in your step today, George.  Have you been having fun while I was gone?"

"I was focussed on what I had to do, as always, my dear."

"Maybe, if we get some free time, you and I can return to the closet to have a little fun, eh?" she said, suggestively.

George glanced in the direction of the suitcase with his 'fun' items.  No, he thought, Edna meant a little woohoo.  Well, he was still feeling the buzz of earlier on and would welcome a visit to the closet.

"I would like that very much" he replied.

They finished their drinks and raced upstairs to rendezvous in the closet.  For George, this was a win-win day.

CHAPTER 136: Older Women

 

I've been awoken by...I presume...my parents, crashing around the house.  What are they doing out there?  OK, let's check the time...9:30am.  9:30!  That's uncivilised!  That's inhumane!  There should be a law against 9:30am!

Stepping out of the sanctuary of my room, I see that Dad's helping Mom do the dishes and the pots and pans are making all the noise.  What is it with old people and getting up early?  When I say 'old' I don't mean...well...ancient or decrepit but anyone around who can remember World War Two is considered 'old' by my standards.

"Oh look...he has risen!" said Dad.

"He has risen indeed!" said Mom.

"Just point me in the direction of the breakfast" I replied.

Fortunately Mom's made something instead of me having to fix it myself...I'm not usually lazy; I did have that grocery delivery job and that meant seriously early mornings.  No, it's just that I'm not quite settled into this new house yet and I can't get a deep enough sleep.  You know how your mind plays tricks on you in the small hours where you think you see something in the shadows but it turns out that you've hung a hat and coat on the back of your chair and it's casting a weird light.  Back in our old apartment I knew every nook and cranny of my room; I do not know this new bedroom like that at all and it's taking some getting used to.

I take my empty plate and glass to the kitchen where Dad is lurking.  He has that look of earnestness in his face.

"Already, half the day gone...into the ether, Jamie"

"What?  What are you talking about Dad?"

"The march of time, Son, the march of time.  I've already been up since 6am..."

"Ughhhhh" Don't hit me with the Dawn's Early Light gig on a Saturday morning, Dad!  Fortunately Mom arrived in time to spare me another one of his folksy tales.

"Have you had enough to eat?"

"Yes, Mom, plenty.  It was nice"

"I don't want you wasting away"

"I'm not"

"Oh, Colin, that walk we took down by the river this morning was lovely...and romantic"

"Anything for you, My Sweet" 

"Are you guys going to get all soppy and yucky?"

"Your father is as dashing and gentlemanly as the day I met him, Jamie"

"You are going to get soppy, I just know it"

"And you're still the most beautiful woman I have ever met, Myra"

"I need to have a shower...maybe even get a barf bag"

"Mwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaahhhhhh"

It's so embarrassing when they get all 'romantic' like that...why can't they do that when I'm not around?

"Hee-hee-hee, Colin!  You tiger!"

"I've still got it!"

"And I've got nausea...I'm going to have a shower."

"Oh Jamie...don't take too long, I thought it would be good to go and meet our neighbours...introduce ourselves."

"Oh Mom!  I was going to go out!"

"That can wait.  You shower and get dressed and we'll just spend a few minutes getting to know our new neighbourhood."

I only reacted instinctively to Mom's suggestion but in reality I didn't have anything else planned this morning.  We popped a few yards to next door:  It was a large, single floored house that left hardly any room for a garden but what I noticed more than anything else was that everything was spotlessly clean and neat.

"This is such a nice house"

"Yes, Myra...a new or at least recent build by my reckoning."

"Now best behaviour everyone.  Colin, don't drone on about concrete or box girder bridges...Jamie, nothing rude or unseemly"

"Mother...the thought never crossed my mind."

Mom knocked on the door and a woman's voiced answered.

"Who is it?"

"Hello there.  We just moved in next door:  We're the McGregor family and we thought we'd introduce ourselves to our new neighbours." 

"If you could make your way around to the side door, I'll let you in.  We only use the front door for special occasions"

I guess we weren't special enough to get front door treatment but we all dutifully made our way around to the side.  Inside matched the outside:  This place was spotless...if a single particle of dirt hit the floor or surfaces probably then the amount of chemicals used in the kitchen alone would obliterate it.

A slim, snooty looking woman approaches us.

"Hello there, I'm Edna Sneedley.  How very pleased I am to meet you." 

"Hi, I'm Myra McGregor, this is my husband Colin..."

"Hello there!"

"And our son, Jamie"

"Hi"

"Hmmm, 'Hi'"

There was something about me saying "hi" that seemed to annoy her.  I'm not sure whether I should ask if I have to take off my shoes or not.

"And how are you finding our humble neighbourhood?  Are you settling in?"

"Yes...gradually.  Still got another few boxes to unpack."

"I shall introduce you to my husband, George, and he'll make us all a nice cup of coffee...and would your son like a fruit juice or milk?"

"Oh I'm fine with Coffee as well, Mrs Sneedley"

"Hmmm, they start so young these days.  Oh George, our new neighbours are here to visit us...do come and say hello....oh and would you be a dear and put on a pot of fresh coffee for them."

A man wearing big spectacles, with a receding hairline and not so receding stomach entered the room and nodded a curt greeting to us.  He made his way straight past me and shook my dad's hand.  

"George Sneedley"

"Colin McGregor.  This is a nice house you have here"

"Edna and I designed it ourselves.  What do you do, Colin?"

"I'm an engineer.  You?"

"Chef.  I'll put that coffee on" 

I was with Mom and Mrs Sneedley and they were talking about the neighbourhood in general...well, it was mainly Mrs Sneedley who did the talking.

"Now across the road from you in that dilapidated eyesore that was, I suspect, a trailer home lives Johnny Zest.  He is a....comedian, one of those 'showbiz' types...ugh.  Well, he's none too successful by the looks of things....he really should get a proper job."

A stand up comic in the street...sounds interesting.  I wonder if he's got any good jokes he could share with me...I mean, after all, girls like guys with a good sense of humour.

"And what about you, young man?  What are you studying and what do you want to do when you leave school?"

Oh!  She's talking to me now!

"I study all the subjects, you know...my best subject is English literature.  I haven't figured out what I want to do after school yet."

"He'll be registered for the draft, no doubt, Edna" 

"Indeed, George.  Well my George was in the Navy; drafted in WW2 when not much older than yourself but he found it rewarding enough to stay on for another 10 years.  He would have stayed on for much longer but he received an injury in Korea...we don't like to talk about that."

"So you were in Korea, George?  I was there too:  US Air Force, working as ground crew on F-86's.  That's where I got my first qualification in mechanical engineering."

So that's Dad and Mr Sneedley off swapping war stories and here I was with Mom and another middle aged woman.

"And how do you find Agave Abode, Myra?"

"It's got a lovely Mexican theme to the decor, I find.  I like the orange hues, the tiling and it's much bigger than our old apartment.  It's nice to have that extra room.  Sure, it was a bit more expensive but it is in such good condition."

"Well, it had better be after the previous owner.  Ugh, I still shudder when I think of him.  He had to get in a lot of builders and cleaners in when he moved out."

"Oh no!  What happened?"

"Mostly wild and debauched parties that went long into the night.  All kinds of unsavoury people frequented there."

Now things are getting interesting!  Please, Mrs Sneedley, do go on!

"Do you mean criminal gangs?" Mom was shocked and wide eyed at this revelation.

"Oh nothing criminal...more's the pity although I do suspect some of that reefer madness was involved...it was that ghastly Alan Cuffe and all his loose women"

"You mean Alan Cuffe of the Lothario Kitten Club?  Him from TV?  Wow, he used to live in our new house?  Did he have the Kittens around for parties?  I mean, that's wild!"

And then the room went deathly quiet.  Mom looked horrified at what I'd just said, Dad looked around and heard what I'd said and shook his head despairingly... but that was nothing compared with the look I got from Mrs Sneedley.  I guess I sounded a little too enthusiastic about Alan Cuffe and Lothario....

"That man is a stain on our society!  I hope you don't partake of his foul and degenerate magazines young man!"

"Well...no!  I mean, I did read one issue but only because it had an interesting short story by Norman Mailer"

"ONE!  It only takes one to poison a young mind!  Everywhere there's smut, filth and indecency and we're being engulfed by it!  These are dark days for us all and the storm clouds are gathering but some of us are fighting back!  Oh dear, oh dear young Jamie.  Hast thou too fallen?"

"Well Edna, lovely to meet you, we'll be leaving you and George alone now..."

Thanks Mom!  I consider leaving via the front door as it's closer but think wiser of it.  This Sneedley woman is c-r-aaaaaaaazy!

We promptly exit the Sneedley Burrow and regroup outside.  I can tell Mom's really annoyed...either at me or Mrs Sneedley.  Probably me.

"Well that was a disaster!"

"Oh I don't think it was all that bad, Myra.  But she does seem to be the volatile type."

"Jamie, why did you have to sound all enthusiastic about Lothario magazine?"

"Alan Cuffe is famous, that's all!  You know, our new house was once owned by a celebrity.  I think that's kind of cool...I wasn't endorsing him"

"'Oooh were any of the Kittens there?' sounds like an endorsement to me!  Now if I were to search your room..."

"MOM!  NO!"

"If I were to search your room, would I find any copies of Lothario stashed away?"

"Mom!  No!  I mean, I don't..."

"Myra, the boy is 17 now and, well, you know how it is"

"No I don't, Colin.  I don't want Jamie reading that sort of muck!"

"The articles are pretty cool, though.  I mean apart from that Norman Mailer one there's been a short story by Gore Vidal and a very interesting analysis of the politics of the Dominican Republic..."

"And how are you getting to read these articles?"

"Oh they get passed around...I mean, I just get leant one...or two...and then they get passed on but it's only the articles..."

"Passed around by whom?"

"Just...erm...friends of friends."

"Which friends?"

"I think it was Jimmy?"

"Who is Jimmy?"

"Erm....he's gone.  Died...left the area.  I can't remember which but he's gone now and well, it's all OK.  I'll just back out of the Lothario sharing loop.  Shame though as the next issue has a bit of undercover journalism..."

"Oh I can well imagine the kinds of 'undercover' they mean!  I'm very disappointed in you, Jamie"

Mom stormed back into the house and I was left alone with Dad for a moment.  We didn't say anything, didn't even look each other in the eye.  Eventually he broke the awkward tension.

"Son...I understand.  It can get lonely...and confusing...sometimes.  I remember back in the winter of '51, at Osan, the first time I'd ever left the United States...we had various...erm...'publications' to help us through those dark times.  The thing is, son, that it's not real...you know?  Nothing in those magazines can compare with real life and real...erm...girls.  But if you ever need to talk...I'm here.  I've been to that place."

"That's OK, Dad, I understand...and thanks"

He nodded, awkwardly, and headed off inside.  I got my bike and decided to head somewhere far away and lie low for a while.  Desert Bloom Park awaited.

I wanted to clear some head space so I strummed on the guitar in the snug area and for a moment all seemed right with the world.  I feel bad for Mom; she just wants us all to fit in and get along in our new neighbourhood but I get the impression the Sneedleys don't get on with anyone.

I did feel a bit better after that...I don't know; the grown up life seems rife with petty concerns and social point scoring...much worse than it's like at school.  However, I'm rapidly heading towards that world...there was one thing Mr Sneedley said that filled me with dread:  Next year I will be eligible for the draft.  Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines?  I don't know which one I'll probably end up in but there's a chance I'll end up in Vietnam.  That's a sobering thought.  All the Lothario magazines ever published can't chase away that worry.

I put down the guitar and head outside and already I see a familiar face from school:  Efrain Webber.  I like him.  He's always got some crazy idea for fun and is good company...for the most part.

"Jamie...how's it going my man?"

"Not too bad; say that's some fancy duds you're wearing there"

"Dress to impress, Jamie ol' buddy:  Rule #1 of the hunt"

"The hunt?"

"You know, cherchez les femmes?"

"Oh yeah, right.  So you off to some party?"

"Not tonight...I think we all have to lie low on that front after what happened at Judy Keith's not-so-sweet 16 if you know what I mean!"

"I don't, sadly.  I wasn't invited to that one"

"Really?  I could have sworn I saw you there...I mean, everyone at school was invited; even Cassandra Goth!  I guess your invite got lost in the mail."

"Yeah...that must have been it"  Put on a brave face, Jamie.  You are just not on Judy Keith's radar at all.  Maybe I'm so small I don't register on it.

"So what happens at Judy's party is that someone spiked the punch and...well...there was some pretty wild tripping out and...yeah, some property damage.  The cops came, eventually"

"Judy's going to be grounded for ever, I reckon"

"Her?  Nah, she'll sweet talk her dad like she usually does.  So, at a loose end, bud?"

"More like a free agent tonight"

"This park's deader than sweater vests...let's say you and I head on to a swinging place and chat up some chicks?  I hear there's a great place over at Windenburg:  College Student Country"

"College students?"

"They're the best.  I mean, yeah, there are the high school girls but I reckon if we tap the freshmen girls you'll get a better quality chick.  They're a bit more worldly, a bit more sophisticated and if we act like freshmen but from another college they won't think we're high schoolers.  What do you think?"

"Man, my social life among the girls at Buckingham High is non-existent.  Why not try a completely different crowd?  I'm in!"

We stopped by Efrain's house so he could get changed into something a bit more casual because he reckoned while the shirt and tie made him look sophisticated to high schoolers, college chicks want someone who's more "with it".  Then we headed to a place called the Narwhal Arms, which had a reputation for being popular with college students.

"This is is, Jamie ol' chum:  Now just play it cool and remember we're freshmen"

 

The place had a real Bohemian buzz about it from the decor, the music and that lots of people were wearing black or grey, smoked funny smelling cigarettes, drank weird coloured drinks and nodded along to the music.  I made my way to the dance floor because already there was one hot chick...all alone...grooving to the music.  Maybe I could say a cool 'hello' and ask her for a dance?

My confidence was dented when I saw one of my old junior high school teachers heading my way!  Oh no, she recognised me and my cover as a 'freshman' would be blown!  Miss McKinnon, why did you have to be here today of all days?  Mind you, she has changed a little bit since I last saw her...I mean, that's a pretty short dress and she's got a good pair of legs but....heck, it's Miss McKinnon!  I make a quick dash for the bar before she can talk to me.

I'm hungry so I order some food at the bar and try my luck in getting a drink.

"Barman!  Can I get one of those drinks with a little umbrella in it?"

"Can I see some I.D.?"

"You know what?  I have a big test tomorrow...a big test so I'd better lay off the alcohol...just for one evening!  I'll have a Coke instead...because of this big test.  Which I have tomorrow"

"Sure you do, kid.  Here's your Coke"

Dang, that barman's an old pro.  But there's a cute chick next to me...time to start up a conversation methinks.

"Hi...can I buy you a drink?" 

"What, like a Coke?"

"Oh this?  Pshaw!  No, I'm off the old booze for one evening as I have a big test tomorrow"

"What are you studying?"

"Me?  Oh...erm...theorem"

"Theorem eh?"

"And what about you?  What are you studying?"

"I'm not a student...I teach English Literature"

Oh great....another much older woman and this time a teacher!

"Are you really a student at Britechester?  Should you actually be in here, kid?"

"Well, I hope you have a great evening...I've got to speak to an old friend over there"

I quickly downed my drink and ran over to where Efrain was standing.  He was still blissfully bopping along to the music...alone, I noticed.

"Efrain, do you know when you said this place was popular with college students?"

"Yeah, what of it?  Have you met any yet?"

"They're all college PROFESSORS!  Look around, they're not students here...one or two years above us.  They're mostly 10 years older than us...there's even Miss McKinnon, our old Junior High teacher over there!"

"Miss McKinnon?  I used to have a crush on her"

"Well tonight's your lucky night...listen, I'm splitting this scene...I've already put my foot in it and I reckon I've got no chance here.  Catch you Monday."

I leave, head down, and go straight home.  What a disappointment on top of the earlier ones.  Older women seem to be the bane of my life today.

As I enter the house I'm immediately greeted by Mom. 

"Jamie...you're home early?  Everything alright?"

"Yeah, cosmic.  I just wanted a bit of an early night."

"Can I ask one more little favour?  I borrowed a watering can from our neighbour and we need to give it back..."

"Oh no, Mom, don't make me apologise to Mrs Sneedley again!"

"No, I didn't borrow it from her, I borrowed it from Mr Zest over the road.  Would you return it to him and give him our thanks?"

"He's not another weird one is he?"

"Well, his house is weird but he seems pleasant"

"OK, give me the can and I'll return it...and be straight back"

I didn't fancy this at all...knowing my luck I'll probably say the wrong thing or worse...not find his jokes funny:  I've never angered a comedian before, maybe this'll be a first.  His place does seem a little weird; more plumbing and wiring on the outside than the inside by the looks of it.  I knock on the door and wince.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?" came a voice from inside; a rasping, loud, elongated 'what'.  He is a weirdo!

"Oh hello, Mr Zest, my name is Jamie and my Mom asked me to return your watering can.

Silence.  Then footsteps.  Then the sound of latches and chains being unlocked and finally the door opened.  A young man with a big Elvis style blonde quiff stands before me.  He notices I'm carrying the watering can.

"Oh thank you.  Was it alright?"

"What?"

"The can"

"I guess....Mom didn't say anything about it other than to return it with her thanks."

"Well...I seem to have left you 'carrying the can'...HONK!  Would you like to come in and have a drink?  I'm Johnny, your neighbour.  Johnny Zest's the name, comedy's my game."

"Are you really a comedian?  Like a pro?"

"That's what's written on my welfare cheques....HONK!  So how's settling in going?"

"The house is fine...real fine Mr Zest."

"Call me Johnny.  I'm only Mr Zest to my parole officer....HONK!  And you are?"

"Jamie.  So do you play gigs and the like?  When's your next one?"

"Well...not this week...nor the next week either but the week after that I provisionally maybe very possibly and almost assuredly could have a gig down in San Myshuno.  But the details haven't been arranged yet.  Or the venue."

"What's your act like?"

"A bit Henny Youngman, a bit Jackie Mason with a dash of Lenny Bruce.  Are you into any comedians?"

"Bob Newhart and Frank Gorshin."

Johnny nodded appreciatively.  

"So, have you met George and the Dragon yet?  The Sneedleys?"

"Oohhhhhhhh yes.  It didn't go well"

"Why, what did you say?  Don't tell me...she objected to your haircut"

"No.  I expressed an interest that Alan Cuffe used to own our house.  Is that true?"

"Very much so.  I miss Alan...not that I spoke with him much.  You know, the occasional 'hello', 'lovely weather' and 'what's your name again?'"

"Is it true about the parties he held there?"

"I should say so!  Man, those were wild!"

"Did you attend any?  Did you meet any of the Kittens?"

"Sadly no.  I did get to talk with one of the kittens.  It was right here, I'll show you.  Right out the front of my house one of them walked over to me...and she was in the full kitten outfit and that leaves very little to the imagination I can tell you!  So she was there in the bodysuit, the black hose and the cat ears and she...and I think it was Miss February...the red haired one...I digress...so I was there, on that spot and she came right up close to me and said 'is it OK if I park my car here?'"

I looked out of his window at the spot where he was pointing to and I gave a start.  My breathing became shallow, I started to nervously fidget and I was letting out a low mumbling sound.

"Calm yourself, kid, it's just a story"

"No...it's not that.  Oh man, oh gosh, it's who's walking down the street!  She's here!  She's here in my street!"

It was Judy Keith.  Oasis Springs was well out of her way, not even close to where she lives.  What's she doing here?  Oh my, she's actually here!  A vision in yellow...her hair the colour of spun gold, her eyes like the purest mountain pools and legs that went on forever!

"Do you know her?"

"Yes...well, kind of.  I know who she is; she's been at school with me since kindergarten but I wonder if I ever cross her mind."

"Why don't you go and say 'hi' to her?  I won't be offended if you leave now.  Go!"

"I...I...can't!  What am I going to say to her?  'Hi...flarglelahglebnurrr'?"

"Whatever it is, she's going to be gone in less than 30 seconds.  Go...just make something up!"

"What if she laughs at me?  What if she goes and tells her friends which is, like, everyone in the city, and they all think I'm a loser for daring to talk to her?"

"How likely is that to happen?"

"It's within the realms of plausibility.  No.  I need a killer opening line.  I way to break the ice....you're a comedian, have you got anything?"

"Nothing that the Doctor couldn't cure....HONK!  How about 'can you show me the way to town, preferably via your bedroom'?"

"That's a terrible pick up line!"

"My comedy's designed to be edgy, not to pick up women!"

"Oh dang it, she's gone.  My chance...ruined!"

"Sorry, guy."

"No, you're right, Johnny.  I should have just gone out there and taken my chance"

"Improvisation, Jamie.  You never know when it can come in handy.  I like you, kid.  When I get this gig sorted out you should come and see my set live.  Free ticket, what do you say?"

"Sure.  And thanks."

"Look at us...we're both an inch away from success and yet we've got to overcome that one little hurdle.  I'll help you get that girl, you help me by laughing at my jokes."