Gwenny June's Tommy Crown Affair

by Richard Dorrance

  Chapter 58 - She Goes Home

  The next night at 2am Gwendy took a last look around the living room and said, "I'm ready." We all smiled at her, blew kisses, and Jinny covered the painting with a silk blanket. He lifted the two hundred pounds of frame, canvas, and spirit off the wall like it was a newspaper, carried it through the kitchen, onto the back porch, down the steps, and into the back of the step van. The writer said he was scared, so we left him home, but the five of us climbed into the front and headed up Meeting Street to the museum. We drove around for a while, casing the joint until 2:45, when Jinny dialed the same long number and said, 'Go' in Russian. He stayed on the line for five minutes, when the person on the other end said something to him. He punched the end button and gave us a thumbs up. I backed the van up to the same door we had used last time, and we got out.

  Tommy said, "That's it? Your guy in Russia can do it that fast? Just a phone call from Jinny?”

  “What do you know about our guy Russia?” I asked.”

  “My momma’s boy from Brooklyn says he’s good. Very good. Says the guy’s an artist. Showed me a photo of him sitting in his office in the Hermitage, playing ‘Let’s Conquer Crimea’ on his computer. Photo was taken by one of our satellites, looking in his window.”

  I said, “So your guy’s pretty good too?”

  “You can be good at something and still have a Brooklyn accent.”

  “You like to play games, don’t you, Tommy Crown?”

  He smiled, but as we were breaking and entering, I cut off the conversation and we went in. Up the stairs, down the long hall past the Gershwin piano in its case, past the silver service in its case, and into the gallery. The lights came on and the cheers erupted from the walls and the plexiglass exhibit cases, and we heard the first bars of a rousing rendition of 'For She's a Jolly Good Fellow'. Gale removed the blanket and Jinny hung her back in her old place, finally covering the rectangle of discolored paint. There she was, now dressed in glowing, aristocratic burgundy trimmed in silver at the the collar and wrists, her blond hair gleaming in the UV lights shining down from tracks on the ceiling. "For she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellow,' and then the ending, and clapping, and all the specials laughing and telling her, "Welcome back, we missed you so." The room was drenched in good cheer.

  We watched all this, knowing this was the right move, happy for her and them, surprised by just how many specials existed in this gallery, all types and sizes and colors. Finally Tommy said to me, "This is great, but maybe we should quiet things down a little and turn off the lights. Someone may see or hear us from outside. I don't want to end up in the slammer on my first venture into the dark side."

  I said, "You got a taste of Gale last night, and you don't want to miss out on more of her."

  "That too," he said.

  I stepped to the center of the gallery and raised my arms in a dihedral. "Specials," I said in not too loud a voice. "She's back, and we're going to miss her. But this is where she belongs, and now that we see all of her friends and how much they care for her, we know this is her home." A crescendo of clapping started, and Tommy looked around for the SWAT team. I motioned for quiet with my arms, and went on, "We have two things to discuss with you, one a proposal, and one a request." All the entities quieted down, and those with eyes looked at us with curiosity. We assumed those without eyes and ears had some way to understand us. I said, "First, Gwendy has asked us to make a movie, with her and all of you in it, and we have agreed. We don't know what form that will take, but we've done a couple of important productions recently, a ballet and a rock opera, and we think we can come up with something interesting. We want to make sure that sits well with you."

  Something strange happened then, it was like we were transported into a hive of bees. We sensed a lot of buzzing and bizzing, though we weren't sure if it was something we heard with our ears or were aware of in some other way. Tommy asked, "What's that? What's going on?"

  I didn't know any more than he did, but I said, "Cloud communication."

  I didn't know what that meant, I just said it. In a minute it stopped, thank goodness, somewhat annoying, and Gwendy said, "Gwenny, hon, they're all in. We'd be honored to star in your production." She looked around at her friends and beamed.

  "Ok, good. Now the second thing is a request. We learned something with Gwendy, that we can't come in here and appropriate....er....borrow....er....pinch, things....er....people....er....you specials. We need to ask first. So we have a request." We looked around and felt the tension, the anticipation, emanating from the walls and the cases. "We'd like to offer three of you the chance for a vacation. A change of scene, just like Gwendy had. Well, almost like her. We'd like to offer two temporary vacations, and one permanent. The buzzing started again, buzz buzz bizz bizz. Jinny put his hands over his ears even though he wasn't sure he was hearing the noise. It only lasted fifteen seconds, and then Gwendy said, "Who dear? Who do you want to take on vacation?"

  I looked at Gale, who said, "It would be my pleasure to offer the sterling silver coffee service in the case over there a temporary vacation in my home. I love her and think I, we," looking at Tommy, "could provide her with an interesting experience. We can tell she loves the social scene, and that's what we can offer at our place." Gale beamed first at Tommy, then at Gwendy, and then at the silver pieces at the far end of the gallery.

  Buzz buzz bizz bizz, and then from the case came, "We're an us, hon, not just a her. And we'd be delighted to spend some time with you and Tommy. An honor."

  Gale took Tommy by the hand and led him over to the case where the new friends got to know each other a little. I said, "The second request is by me. I would love to have the Gershwin piano come to visit at my house." Buzz buzz bizz bizz. "My husband and I always have loved their music, and knowing “Summertime” was composed on the piano, here in Charleston, that's always made him special. We have a Steinway who we know wouldn't mind sharing space in our living room."

  Buzz buzz bizz bizz, and then from outside the gallery and down the hall came something, words or a feeling or intuition or something, something communicative, "I'm a her, dear, and I'd love to visit with you and Roger. Do you play?" I thought, 'Yes,' and she said, "Wonderful. I look forward to some parties and soirees and concerts. It's been long time."

  We were two for two, so I nodded at Jinny and he stepped forward. "I'm the one with the request for a permanent vacation. A relocation, really." Buzz buzz bizz bizz. "One of your esteemed members, fellows, was born in my country, many years ago. In my hometown of Saint Petersburg."

  The almost imperceptible buzzing ratcheted up, and we heard, or sensed, "It's the Faberge. He wants the Faberge."

  Jinny understood, and went on, "Yes, I am requesting the honor of relocating the Faberge table back to his birthplace, Saint Petersburg."

  The cloud buzzed and bizzed, and then quieted down, leaving one voice, or sensation. "I am the Faberge table, Jinny, and your request brings me both great joy and great sadness. As much as I have loved Charleston, for many years I have longed to see Russia again. Home is where the heart is. This possibility is an unexpected and astounding event, and my answer is yes. I want to go home. But with that said, I know I will leave my friends and family here, with a heavy heart. I know we will stay in touch through the cloud."

  Now all of us put our hands over our ears, and Tommy again started worrying that someone outside the museum would hear, or sense, what was going on inside and call the cops. Gwendy picked up on this and gave the order to quiet down, which all obeyed. She said, "Ok, these deals are done, and it's getting late and I know you need to get out of here. But one thing, can Jinny, or the table, give us an explanation of his birth. I always have thought of Gustav Faberge as a jeweler."

  Jinny deferred to the table, who buzzed, "My creator was only twenty when he made me in 1834. Yes, he went on to great fame and fortune as a jeweler, a
long with his son Peter, with the family reaching its apotheosis in Peter's creation of the eggs. But Gustav's father was a cabinet maker, and he started Gustav in the same trade when he was fifteen. After birthing me, however, he was presented with an opportunity to apprentice to a well-known Saint Petersburg jeweler, and the rest is history."

  "Gotcha," said Gwendy, though not sure that amounted to the table being insured for twelve million when she only was insured for two point five, but she didn't buzz that thought aloud.

  I looked at my watch that said 4:30am, and motioned to Gwendy to wrap it up. She did, buzzing to her friends the show was over, and somehow the lights went off. Gale said, "Now what?"

  I looked at Jinny and said, "Now what?"

  He said, "Now we get out of here. You get the silver," looking at Gale, "and you get the table," looking at Tommy, "and I'll get the piano."

  Gale looked at him and said, "You're going to pick up a piano and carry it out? My hero." She looked at Tommy and said, "Can you pick up a piano?" He shook his head, No. She said, "Good thing you got other talents," and smiled at him.

  And that's what happened. Jinny squatted with his back to the flat side of the upright piano, got his hands under the bottom edge, and simply stood up. Voila, out he marched, out Gale marched with the service, out marched Tommy carefully carrying the only known Faberge table in the world, and I brought up the rear.