Kubrick's Game

  Both things to eat and things to see,

  And many frightening sights abroad

  Till morning in the land of Nod.

  ~~~

  Try as I like to find the way,

  I never can get back by day,

  Nor can remember plain and clear

  The curious music that I hear.

  Shawn quietly contemplated what he had just read.

  “Well,” said Wilson, “anything pop out this time?”

  “Yes. Obviously, this is tied in much more thematically with Eyes Wide Shut than “My Shadow” in terms of the fantasy-versus-reality message. It’s about a child who is bored by the humdrum of the real world, and looks forward to the explorations of his dreams. This is clearly the poem that Kubrick wanted us to examine.”

  Sami pulled out the clue on her phone and Shawn tried to focus on it despite the constant bombardment of explosions on the screen.

  HAL will solve CRM-114 for seven, thirteen, and nine. But what made Q a dull boy?

  Shawn looked at the riddle and then back to the poem. What was hiding in the text?

  “I think I see something,” said Shawn. “What number poem is this in the book?”

  “It’s number fifteen,” counted Sami.

  “Well, maybe that’s what 114 is indicating. 11+4 equals fifteen. Also 1 +14 equals fifteen. Perhaps Kubrick was pointing us to the fifteenth poem in the collection.”

  “That’s a sharp observation,” said Sami. “But where does CRM fit in?”

  As soon as Sami said it, Shawn saw the answer blaze across the page like a fireball.

  “There,” said Shawn. “Fourth stanza. Last line. Nor can remember plain and clear/The curious music that I hear. CuRious Music. There’s the CRM!”

  “You think so?” said Sami.

  “It’s exactly the same method they used to come up with HAL. Heuristic Algorithmic. Taking one letter from one word and two letters from another to mash together an acronym.”

  “Okay,” said Wilson, “but there’s curious music in all of Kubrick’s films. It’s kind of his trademark.”

  Shawn nodded. “Exactly. Something about this clue has been bugging me this whole time. Why is nine listed after thirteen? Now the answer is clear. We had to solve thirteen before we were supposed to go to nine. Assuming ‘curious music’ is the answer to how HAL solves the CRM for thirteen, let’s apply that to film number nine, A Clockwork Orange. It’s the only other film that directly references CRM-114, when Serum No. 114 is injected into Alex. When I think about curious music and A Clockwork Orange, a particular scene comes to mind.”

  Shawn pulled his laptop out of his backpack and played A Clockwork Orange, skipping to the scene in the record shop when Alex propositions two young women.

  “Remember what it means when something sticks out like a sore thumb? It’s not a joke. It’s a marker. Well, take a look.”

  Sami and Wilson burst out laughing. There at the front of the music-store shelf was the album cover of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

  “I bet that album is at LACMA,” said Wilson. “Should we go look for it?”

  “No,” said Shawn. “It’s not at LACMA. I would have remembered. I have no idea where that album is.”

  “Hold that thought,” said Sami. “I’m getting results on Google. Okay, it says here that two copies of the prop album were made. One of them is at a Kubrick archive in London, but another one appears to have been willed to someone after Kubrick’s death. Just a second.” She scanned through the articles. “Here it is. During an interview, this person says he was willed the album but was surprised to receive anything since he hadn’t spoken to Kubrick in over twenty years. “

  “Just like Vargas,” said Shawn. “Who is it?”

  She held up her phone and showed them a picture of the interviewee: Malcolm McDowell, the star of A Clockwork Orange.

  They left the movie at the halfway point and camped out at the Starbucks next door, where they could utilize the free Wi-Fi.

  Shawn scanned sites and message boards on his laptop. “Bingo!” He turned his screen to show Sami and Wilson.

  “What’s that?” said Wilson.

  “Malcolm McDowell’s home address.”

  “You aren’t suggesting—”

  “Yep. We pay him a visit. Going through his manager could take weeks, if he even responded at all. This is our best bet.”

  “But that address is in Ojai,” said Wilson. “I have no idea where that even is.”

  “Google Maps says it’s only ninety miles away,” said Shawn. “If we take your car and leave now, we beat the traffic and are there before noon.”

  Wilson looked uncomfortable.

  “If you’re concerned about being followed,” said Shawn, “Maybe we can—”

  “Listen guys,” said Wilson, “I know I seem like Richie Rich with my pad and my wheels and funding this little adventure so far, but the truth is... I’m broke.”

  “Broke? How do you afford your place?” said Shawn.

  “I get residuals every quarter, and those earnings barely keep up appearances. If I’m seen driving around in a Camry or living in a studio in Palms, you can’t imagine the ridicule if TMZ caught me. The appearance of success is all that keeps what fledgling career I have going. Fact is, I’m on financial aid just to make tuition.”

  “What about the money you made as a kid?”

  “Parents stole all of it. Ever wonder why I emancipated myself and never talk to them?”

  “I’m sorry.” Sami rubbed his shoulder. “I didn’t know that was the situation.”

  “Here’s where I’m at. My cards are maxed out, my accounts are overdrawn, and the twenty I have in my wallet is all I got until the next residual check comes in God-knows-when. I’d like to drive us to Ojai, but the truth is... I’m out of gas.”

  Shawn and Sami reached into their wallets at the same time and pulled out the fifty dollar Shell gas cards they had won at the Fantastic Race.

  Wilson smiled. “Ojai, here we come!”

  Two hours later, they were cruising down the main drag of Ojai, with the pungent aroma of orange blossoms permeating the entire valley. Often described as Napa Valley meets the Old West, Ojai was a beacon for hippies, foodies, wine connoisseurs, equestrians, and A-list stars looking to get away.

  Following the car’s navigation system, Wilson turned off the road and headed into the foothills, passing acres of orange groves along the way. In case they were being followed, he parked about a half mile away from Malcolm McDowell’s hacienda. They decided to hike the rest of the way through the orange groves to the back of McDowell’s property.

  They came to a wooden fence surrounding the McDowell compound, climbed over, and dropped down into a large open field that contained a small vineyard, several large oak trees, and a swath of dried grass.

  “Oh no. Look over there.” Wilson pointed.

  Huddled underneath one of the oak trees was the USC team with two other men.

  “Hey, Desiree!” Shawn called out.

  “Shut up! You want to sound an alarm?” said Wilson.

  Desiree didn’t respond.

  They made their way over.

  Danny flashed a cocky smile as they approached.

  Desiree avoided eye contact with Shawn.

  “Well, look who finally caught up,” said Danny. “Allow me to introduce the newest members of our team.”

  “No introduction needed,” said Shawn. “We know who they are.”

  The two men extended their hands—Rich Greenstone and Luke Wexler, the creators of Fantastic Race, and possibly the greatest puzzle-solving minds in California.

  “Really? You needed to bring in ringers?” said Sami to Danny. “No wonder you were able to catch up with us so fast.”

  Danny scrunched up his face. “Hey, I don’t see a rulebook printed anywhere. You’re just mad you didn’t think of it yourself.”

  Desiree continued to ignore Shawn.

  He couldn’t tell if it was becaus
e she was still mad at him, or if she didn’t want her team to suspect that they had a relationship.

  “Relax,” said Luke, “we’re not on any side. We’re just here for the challenge of the puzzle. And we both happen to be big Kubrick fans.”

  “Wrong,” said Danny. “You took my advance money. That means you are on my team. You help them in any way, and you give back every dime plus reparations if they win.”

  “Like I said,” said Luke. “We’re with these guys.”

  “All right, you jokers,” Desiree huffed. “We gotta figure out how we’re getting in. Assuming you’ve done your research, you know McDowell keeps all his film memorabilia in his office, so that’s the first place we should look.”

  “Yeah, of course we knew that,” said Wilson not-too-convincingly. “So here’s what I’m thinking. We scale that oak tree up to the wooden deck. In a sleepy town like this, there’s a strong chance his back porch door is unlocked. Whoever gets in can go downstairs and unlock the front door for us. And by the way, since Desiree and I seem to have the only black faces here, that means one of you will be doing the burgling because I do not want to get shot by some freaked-out white dude. The rest of you can probably explain your way out of that mess.”

  “We have a different idea,” said Danny. “We think that the clues indicate that we’re supposed to confront McDowell directly, just like the priest at the Masonic lodge.”

  “Are you sure?” said Shawn. “A star like Malcolm McDowell might not be okay with random strangers dropping in and disturbing him.”

  Danny scoffed. “And you think Kubrick wants us to commit felony B and E instead?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the album was supposed to be at LACMA, but McDowell lost it or didn’t want to give it to them.”

  “We like our strategy,” said Danny. “We’re going to the front door. You can join or proceed as you will.”

  Danny’s team turned and started toward the house.

  Shawn and his team finally agreed that while they didn’t like the plan, it was probably best to present a united front. He definitely wasn’t thrilled about scaling a tree and breaking into the house, anyway.

  The USC team was already walking around to the front door when the UCLA team ran to catch up.

  Danny rang the doorbell.

  Through the intercom came the unmistakable British accent with an American twang. “I’m not interested in any Girl Scout cookies.”

  Danny pushed the talk button, took a deep breath, and dramatically exclaimed, “Please, sir, there’s been a terrible accident! May we come in and use the phone?”

  “Oh? None of you owns a cell phone, do you?”

  The group looked at one another.

  Danny pushed the talk button again.

  “Please, sir! It’s an emergency. We need to use your telephone to call for an ambulance.”

  “Oh, well I suppose I better let you in then.”

  The group smiled. The USC team and the Fantastic Race guys high-fived one another.

  “In case you couldn’t tell,” came the voice of McDowell again, “I was being sarcastic! Get the hell off my property before I call the police!”

  His cockiness gone, Danny reached for the talk button one more time and pressed it. His voice trembled and he started, “Please, sir—”

  “If you press that button one more time, it will be last thing you ever do! You don’t think I get psycho fans here all the time trying to pull that lame routine?”

  “You do?”

  “I can see each of you in my surveillance system, and I’ll be sending these photos to the police if you are not off my property in ten seconds!”

  The group took off running down the driveway and circled back around to the outside fence.

  “I can’t believe that didn’t work,” said Rich, scratching his brown curls.

  “It made sense,” said Danny. “Kubrick sent us to the house of the star of A Clockwork Orange to retrieve something. That seemed to indicate that we were to duplicate the scene from the movie when Alex approaches the front door of the house.”

  Desiree pulled up an image on her phone and showed it to the group. “Exactly. Look, at the entrance of the home they invade. Kubrick used a mirror to create a perfect chessboard, just like they have at the entrance of all Masonic lodges. It seems to indicate that McDowell was in on the game just like Vargas.”

  “Okay, I can see your reasoning,” said Shawn, “but you didn’t consider that McDowell had a strained relationship with Kubrick once filming wrapped. I don’t think he would happily go along with it.”

  “Then why send him the album in the first place?”

  Shawn shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake by the estate. Maybe it’s a diversion because the real album to look for is its double in the London archive.”

  “No way,” said Wilson. “I would rather break in and get arrested for trespassing than buy a plane ticket to London on a whim.”

  “I think we have to put our heads together, think of the right thing to say, and go back to the front door,” said Danny.

  “You’re all wrong,” said Sami quietly, drawing everyone’s attention. “McDowell is not in on the game like Vargas because he’s not supposed to be. Kubrick is making each step harder than the next so that his prize is well-earned. If we want that album, we’re going to have to pry it from the hands of a man with zero patience for geeks like us.”

  After more arguing, they decided that breaking in was their only option. At least they’d have a shot at getting the album, even if McDowell called the police.

  Shawn volunteered for the UCLA team.

  USC had a more difficult time deciding. Austin pointed out that he was too tall and would be easily noticed. Danny noted the escape car was his so he had to wait outside to be the driver. That left Desiree.

  “You’re perfect,” said Danny. “You have gymnastics experience.”

  “Yeah, when I was eight!”

  “That’s more than any of us. Rich and Luke are too old and rickety to be scaling walls, so what other option is there?”

  “It’s true, we both have rickets,” Rich joked.

  Shawn and Desiree set out for the oak tree together, but Shawn still couldn’t get Desiree to acknowledge him.

  “I get that you’re still mad,” he said, “but we should work together here.”

  “I know, but just this once.”

  They got to the tree and looked for the best route upward to the wooden deck that surrounded the second story of the house.

  “Give me a boost,” said Desiree.

  She put her heel in Shawn’s hand and he lifted her to the first branch. In what looked to him like a well-practiced gymnastic maneuver, she grabbed the branch with both hands, rocked back and forth, and propelled herself to the branch above.

  Shawn was tall enough to jump up to the first branch, but Desiree had to pull him up.

  On their stomachs, they inched their way across the overhanging branch toward the deck.

  “Can I ask you a quick game-related question?” said Shawn.

  “Go ahead.”

  “We never really figured out the second part of the clue. ‘What made Q into a dull boy?’ Did you?”

  Desiree huffed, annoyed. “If you apply the HAL shift onto Robert Louis Stevenson’s initials, it becomes QMR. Rearrange the letters and it becomes Mr. Q. So, Q in this case was Stevenson. Dull boy was meant to be taken literally. Stevenson was ill throughout childhood and was never permitted to play or make friends. He fell into a world of make-believe, eventually writing classics like Treasure Island and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I think Kubrick related to that. They were both dull boys obsessed with the popular media of their day.”

  “Is that how you guys figured out the way to A Child’s Garden of Verses in Eyes Wide Shut and the ‘Land of Nod’ poem?”

  “Yup.”

  Having reached the end of the branch, Desiree flung herself outward toward the deck railing, grasped onto it with h
er fingertips, and hoisted herself over onto the flooring.

  Shawn tried to emulate Sammy’s method, but used too much force, flinging himself over the railing straight onto the deck floor. He skidded across the wood, tearing his pants and skinning his knee.

  Desiree took off her headband and wrapped it tightly around his knee. “We can’t have you dripping DNA evidence in Mr. McDowell’s house.”

  She helped Shawn to his feet.

  They cautiously approached the sliding glass door and looked inside. The master bedroom was clear. Desiree knelt down and tested the door, and it was indeed unlocked. She slid it open just wide enough to fit through, and slipped inside.

  Shawn followed quickly behind.

  The voice of McDowell bellowed out from downstairs. “You think you’re so clever? Well I’m on to you!”

  “Hide!” Desiree grabbed Shawn by the shirt and pulled him under the bed.

  The voice of McDowell continued to cry out. “This plantation has been in my family since before our independence. I will die before I see it the hands of a two-bit scoundrel such as yourself!”

  There was no response.

  “Well, then I suppose the game is on, Colonel. When I see you again, it will be to shovel the dirt on your grave.”

  Desiree and Shawn looked at one another.

  “I think he’s rehearsing lines,” said Shawn.

  “Gee, you think?”

  They slid out from under the bed and tiptoed out of the bedroom and across the hallway, searching for an office. They passed two more bedrooms, then spotted what looked to be a room of memorabilia.

  “That’s it,” whispered Desiree. “To get there we have to cross the walkway directly above the foyer.”

  McDowell paced below, practicing different poses, repeating the final line over and over. “Well, then I suppose the game is on, Colonel. When I see you again, it will be to shovel the dirt on your grave... on your... graaaave! Ah, yes, that was quite good.”

  Pinning himself against the back wall, Shawn followed Desiree like a shadow toward the office. Halfway there, he bumped his head on a hanging photograph.

  Desiree held her breath in horror, watching it sway back and forth on a nail just before it fell.