by Jamie Knight
I didn’t have art to cleanse my palate and save my soul, but I did have music. Unknown to Ada, and mostly to the rest of the world, I played bass in a local metal band. We were no Dante Street Massacre, but we were starting to get some good buzz and even went on the occasional tour. Usually only as far as Rhode Island or Vermont, but it still counted.
We were even gearing up to record an album. It would be a digital release, of course. No one really listened to physical records anymore, but from what I understood in terms of the studio process, it was pretty much the same. The band was still in a room full of mics and monitors getting yelled at by fat guys with long hair and the dress sense of teenagers whose own dreams failed decades before.
The band’s general aesthetic went more toward the French gangster aesthetic. At least the one presented by Jean-Luc Godard. We actually almost named the band A Band Apart, but Tarantino beat us to it and the English translation of the original title, Band of Outsiders, seemed a bit on the nose.
In the end, we decided to wear our absurdist philosophy on our sleeve and go with Thanks for All the Fish, shortened to T.F.A.F. and usually pronounced as tea-faff, in honor of the late, great Douglas Adams.
The lab was very much as I had left it. Amanda had straightened up, as was her habit. It was strange to think that for the last few years she was the closest thing to a friend I’d had. I guess I was more of a solitary sort.
Most of the people I connected with the best were those who shared at least some of my quirks. It therefore made sense that the people I associated with the most would be in the process of work, both in the military as well as the private sector.
Pulling out my stool, I did a final review of what I firmly believed to be the final draft of the design. At least I hoped it was. It was the version I had already sent to Greene to begin production. Any adjustments that might need to be made would go straight from me to the manufacturer. There was no need to upset Amelia unnecessarily. Just then, as though by magic, my phone started to do its little buzz dance inside my pocket.
“Hello!”
“Kingsley, daring.”
“Hi Amelia.”
Either things had gone really well, or my head was a bout to roll. It was hard to tell when Greene sounded like she was happy. It could be a clever ruse. She was quite Machiavellian that way.
“Great news!”
I could actually feel my shoulders relaxing as all the tension drained from my body as quickly as it had come.
“What’s that?” I asked, cautiously optimistic.
“The demonstration went wonderfully, they absolutely loved you. They called me yesterday afternoon and made quite a generous offer. Even I was surprised, which I don’t have to tell you is really saying something!”
“That is good news,” I agreed.
“In other news - ”
“Good news?”
“Wait and see,” she admonished.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s better. In other news, we have pushed the launch date for the Greene Planet Pilgrim forward. It will now be on lots on July 3rd to give people who pre-order time to get theirs before heading out for the long weekend. The pre-orders have been just flooding in.”
“The advertising is out?” I asked, my head spinning.
“Last week dealing. Stars and Stripes, fireworks, the whole deal really pushed the holiday angle. People buy a lot when they are feeling patriotic.”
“Not to mention that it actually is,” I pointed out.
“Oh, of course it is,” Greene agreed, “the fact that you’re a West Point graduate doesn’t hurt either.”
“Is that why you wanted me to do the presentation?”
“Partly. It really was good for optics. Though you also just know the design better than anyone. It was the product of your head and your hand.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” I said, trying not to pass out from the rush of it all. July 3rd was two days away.
Chapter Eleven - Ada
She didn’t tell me her name. I didn’t even think of it until we were well underway. I took some busses in my head, still in a post-sex haze, the endorphins far from running their course through my system. Were I given but one guess, I would say her name was Clementine. Though that seemed unlikely in that day and age, as well as cruel. The song teasing she would get alone would be awful.
No, it was something more sophisticated and aristocratic. I scratched Clementine from my mental answer sheet and instead put in Lysistrata Mordant. Yes, that looked right. She was the sort of ball and champagne beauty that would have been the toast of the country club set had she been born in Vermont instead of New York.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Lyssa,” the driver said, glancing in the rear-view mirror.
“Short for Lysistrata?” I inquired, knowingly.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Lucky guess. It also makes sense you wouldn’t use the whole thing.”
“Or I would get constant jokes about the dirty play by Aristophanes.”
“I don’t know about dirty. Bawdy for sure, though, and either way, he got his point across.”
“Indeed, he did. If only people had those kinds of guts now,” Lysistrata Mordant lamented.
I had given her directions to Amy’s place instead of my own without even thinking about the whole bridge situation, but the enchanting Ms. Mordant, which really was a cool name, insisted that she didn’t mind and would drive wherever I said. I wondered how much Kingsley was paying her to make her so happy to serve.
The door was opened for me by the most elegant woman I had ever seen, resplendent in and impeccable in a black suit and white shirt so form fitting they left little to the imagination as to her lithe, strong form. I made my way, my steps still a bit unsteady from the after-breakfast pounding Kingsley had blessed me with, up to the door of Amy’s brownstone.
“Wow, someone just got fucked,” Amy said, leading me through the door.
“Twice,” I enthused.
“I take it your date went well.”
“He made me breakfast!”
“And then boinked you insensible. It’s love, alright.”
“Is Matt around,” I asked, casting my gaze about nervously.
“He’s in bed. Spill.”
“He came in me. I more or less ordered him to. In my defense, it had already happened accidentally.”
“Accidentally on purpose?”
“No, accidentally, at least I think so. Anyway, afterwards. After the first time, he said it was fine no matter what happened. That he wanted to have a baby with me and all kinds of other beautiful things. He wants me, Amy. For real. We are back together, like, officially.”
“I take it he doesn’t know that you already have a baby together.”
“Not exactly. I wanted to tell him but could never really figure out how. I figured he would be mad at me for not telling him the time.”
“Of course he will. It is kind of big news. But from what I know of him, he is not an idiot - ”
“No, it at all,” I agreed.
“Exactly, so it also seems quite likely that he will realize exactly why you didn’t tell him and what a struggle it has been for you to raise Matt by yourself. If anything, he will love you more, not less.”
“You’re right,” I said, thinking it over.
“Come on, I have some tea made,” Amy said, taking me in hand.
Cream tea always reminded me of Kingsley. It was sort of his thing. I chalked it up to his British heritage. The first of his clan set foot on American soil soon after the revolution after the gun smoke cleared.
Apparently, they were anti-royalists no more thrilled with the king than the patriots. They were looking for a place where they could be taken on their merits as opposed to solely the circumstances of their birth. Kingsley himself had been named after a British novelist.
“Do you think I should te
ll him face to face or one the phone?” I asked.
“Oh, phone, I think. It is a bit more distant that way. It might seem like it should be the opposite, but trust me, the distance will help him process. If you are right there in front of him, especially if you bring Matt, the shock might be too much for him to take and he could end up saying something he’ll later regret. People usually do when under stress.”
“How did you get to be so smart?” I asked.
“I read a lot,” Amy said with a shrug, “if you want, there is a protection spell I could give you.”
“Will that work over the phone?”
“It should. It is more about you than him. Most magick is individual anyway.”
“Does it work?” I asked, before I could stop myself.
“Like a charm,” Amy said, as serious as I had ever seen her.
“Kingsley would say like a clock. You know like clockwork. He doesn’t actually think that charms work.”
“He has a very limited and literalist view of things,” Amy pointed out, without a trace of malice.
“Too true, but I love him anyway.”
“I know you do, darlin’.”
Amy let me use her phone. I had forgotten to pay the plan on mine and didn’t want to have to go hunting for a phone card before I could make the most important call of my life. It seemed tacky somehow.
“Hello, Kingsley Marten here.”
I flinched, my pussy getting unbearably wet. Even over the phone he had power over me. I had to pull myself together.
“H-hi, Kingsley,” I said.
“Ada?”
“Yeah, I-I’m calling from Ada’s. I mean Amy’s, I’m calling from Amy’s.”
“What are you doing there? Is something wrong.”
“No, not at all. Well, maybe it all depends.”
“On what?”
“On how you react,” I said, making myself cringe.
“Ada, what is happening?”
“It happened a while ago actually. Remember that trip we took up to West Point on the 4th of July when we, er, couldn’t wait.”
“Yeah, of course – oh.”
“Yeah, I kinda got pregnant. You have a son, Kingsley, his name is Matt. He is so much like you it is actually kind of spooky. I was going to tell you at the time, but you had already gone overseas, and we were broken up anyway. I figured it was just better to leave it.
“I am telling you now because we are back together. At least it feels like we are. Like the time away meant nothing. Nothing serious. Just a little break in the grand scheme of things. Now we are back together, and everything is fine, right?”
You could have driven a truck through the ensuing silence. Were it not for the sound of him breathing, I would have thought he had hung up. Finally, the words came. Not what I wanted to hear, which went along the lines of ‘That’s wonderful news! I want to bring you and Matt to live with me and get married immediately!’
He didn’t say that, nor did I particularly expect him to. That was wishful thinking at best. But it also wasn’t the worst thing I could possibly hear under the circumstances.
“I-I have to think.”
“What did he say?” Amy inquired.
“That he has to think,” I said, hanging the phone back up.
“Well, that’s a result.”
“I guess,” I said, flopping back into the chair.
“Guess nothing, it is good.”
“It’s good that my newly rediscovered relationship is over?”
“Poppycock. Give him a day or two. He’ll come around.”
I sipped my tea meditatively and focused my mind on happy thoughts, just hoping that Amy was right.
Chapter Twelve - Kingsley
It was a shock to say the least. Everything I had ever wanted. A woman I loved with a son of our own was right there the whole time. Well, most of the time. I didn’t blame her, not really. I was angry of course, but there was less anger at her for not telling me than at myself for putting her in a position in which she thought she couldn’t.
No one knows how they would react in a situation that hasn’t happened, but I liked to think I would have stayed involved in Matt’s life at least by way of child-support and visiting even if Ada and I never got back together again.
It was a scenario that seemed increasingly absurd the more I thought about it. The only thing that had really kept us apart, at least after I came back to New York, was my own foolish pride. Granted, I didn’t know if any of her information was the same, but that was easy enough to find out. A scenario I actually did have a frame of reference for was seeing Ada again. Of course it had gone that way. I wasn’t particularly a determinist.
I didn’t think there was a grand plan or cosmic schedule of any kind. However, there were some outcomes that were so logical there was no way for them to be otherwise. Ada and I getting back together the second we saw each other was definitely one of them.
Matt had been a bit of a twist, but the most wonderful one possible. I knew I had to tell her that, lest she think I was mad at her or our relationship was over again. She did have a way of reading into things.
“Markus,” I said, when he picked up.
“Yeah.”
“It’s Kingsley.”
“I know. You always use the same ring.”
“I’m a creature of habit. I need you to do something for me.”
“It’s going to cost ya.”
“How does half a million sound?” I inquired.
“Go on.”
The work on the project was done. I was free and clear until the next contract. If there was a next contract. Either way, I had more than enough money to support my family assuming I played my cards right.
It was like something out of a story book. A horror story to be specific. Being built on some jagged mountains with blue forks of lighting behind it would complete the impression admirably. The gargoyle gate did little to dissuade the impression.
There was a soft buzz and the gate started to move as if by its own accord, granting me access to the grounds. I was early, no surprise there.
Left with few alternatives, I put on my headphones and tried my best not to look suspicious as I waited for Ada to arrive. The strange beauty of “Transylvanian Hunger” filled my head and lifted my spirits as I awaited my destiny.
She had closed the door before I noticed. Her back was to me and she was already moving toward the school, but I would know that ass anywhere. Getting out as quietly as I could, I did my best to catch up.
“Ada.”
She froze in place, as if she had just heard something truly shocking. In retrospect, I supposed it was.
“I-I love you,” I said, trying to pick my words carefully. “I have always loved you and I want us to be a family if you will still have me.”
She turned slowly. She was turned most of the way around before I realized she was crying. Springing into action, I held her tight, kissing her tears away, like I had done so many times before. Though, it was the first time I had been the source of them. I could only hope that they were happy tears.
“Yes, it makes so very happy,” she said.
“Mommy?”
Mattie really did look like me. Ada was right, it was almost spooky tin the best possible way.
“Hey, Baby,” she said crouching down to his height.
“Is he my daddy?” Matt asked. He was very sharp indeed.
“Yes, Baby, he is your daddy, he’s come back for us like I always said he would.”
Waiting until she turned back to me, I got down on one knee and took the small box covered in black velvet from my pocket. Ada gasped when she saw it.
“Ada Babbage. You have made my life unaccountably better in immeasurable ways. I would be deeply honored if you agreed to be my wife.”
“Yes,” she said, the tears driving from her chin.
“That’s good, right, Mom?” Matt asked, clearly get
ting mixed messages.
“Yes, Baby. It is very good.
Epilogue - Kingsley
We waited a year, more or less. Little Amy Rosa was born a few months before. Her birthday was almost the same day as Matt’s.
Ada was right. She was a beautiful baby, just as I was sure Matt had been at the time. The fact that I wasn’t there for it was something I would always regret.
Though, as George Orwell said, rolling in the muck is not the best way of getting clean. It was far better instead to focus on more positive things, such as my beautiful bride coming up the plush blue carpet stretched out before me.
Flanked on either side by her nearest and dearest, my guest list numbered exactly two, they sat on fashionable white folding chairs set up on the freshly cut grass. The warm July sun was shining down. It had been really easy to get the venue since most people had left town for the holiday.
Mattie was our ring bearer and I had never seen a cuter one. He grinned happily as he held on to the little pillow.
There was a bit of a disagreement on who should officiate. Ada’s anarchist mother objected to a Justice of the Peace nearly as vigorously as I opposed a Catholic priest. Amy suggested her High Priestess, but that only succeeded in bringing the two camps together in their opposition. There was only one solution: a sea captain. The only real risk there was him going off-script.
Our vow exchange was touching and brought tears to everyone’s eyes, including my own. When we were pronounced man and wife, I couldn’t have been any happier.
“Well, someone looks adorable,” Amy gushed, finding us at the reception.
“Why, thank you,” Ada and I said in unison.
“I was talking about Amy Rosa,” Amy clarified.
“We know,” Ada and I chorused, nearly of one mind already.
Either that or we had just known each other, and Amy, so long that it didn’t really take telepathy to figure out her meanings.
“Speaking of which, would you like me to take her and Matt? I’m guessing you lovebirds are keen to get going on your honeymoon.”