RJ Book 12 Escape From Siberia

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RJ Book 12 Escape From Siberia Page 25

by Earl Nelson


  I escorted a young lady to dinner and danced with a dozen others. None of them interested me. They all seemed immature and vapid to say the least.

  One at least got my attention.

  “Please dance us over in front of the photographers. I need a picture dancing with you to win a bet.”

  As I twirled her in the right direction I asked, “What was the bet?”

  “I bet twenty dollars that you are so dumb you would dance with anyone, including me.”

  What do you say to that?

  “I hope you collect your money. Why am I dumb for dancing with you?”

  “You could dance with the richest, most beautiful women in the world, and here you are with me.”

  “You and many others will never understand. I don’t need beauty and wealth. I need a friend and a life-mate. Read the headlines about all those high-profile marriages and then the divorce. That is not what I’m looking for.”

  “Oh.”

  After that, I faded from the scene and went to my room, and changed into comfortable clothes. That was the day before Christmas Eve.

  On Christmas Eve we gathered as a family in the library and put up our Christmas Tree. The others were done by professionals. On this one, we used the ornaments that had been in the family for years and held memories for us.

  Mary and I made paper chains earlier in the afternoon, while Denny and Eddy popped corn and made strands. I was tall enough to place the angel on top.

  Later we gathered around and exchanged presents.

  Rather than drag a horse into the house or an Elmer we had made cards describing the presents.

  My present from the whole family was a Napoleonic French Marshal’s baton. It was a blue cylinder with eagles dating to the First French Empire.

  It is inscribed, “Terror belli, decus pacis, which means "terror in war, ornament in peace".

  I’m not sure what they are trying to tell me.

  We sang some Christmas carols. Thankfully only Dad and I had the ‘Nelson’ singing voice, we kept it soft. The rest were rather good. Mary especially. Her pitch must be perfect.

  We retired for the night. Christmas morning there would be tons of presents to open. But we had already had our real Christmas.

  Mum loved the piano, we had managed to sneak it in, set it up, and tune it without her knowledge.

  Mary had on her riding costume and was ready to jump six-foot-high fences this afternoon.

  Eddy was talking about bouncing radio signals off of the new satellites circling the earth. He had read about it in Boys Life.

  Dad had the dime in hand to show us, then set it down and forgot where he put it. That was a mad scramble.

  I made a miscalculation about Denny’s piano. His room was next to mine and the walls weren’t as soundproof as I thought.

  What a wonderful Christmas.

  Chapter 52

  The day after Christmas is Boxing Day, Mum like all British with servants gave them presents. I don’t know what she gave them, but it was in the form of a check. I suspect it was at least a month's pay from the cheerful thanks that I heard.

  I had envelopes made out to my only servants Harold and Boris. I asked Boris to take care of the staff at Jackson House Asia. Thinking of what Boris and Harold had done for me I gave them a six-month bonus.

  Boris for help saving my life, Harold for all the globe-trotting he had done for me. I also sent a check to Rod Bell for his teaching me archery.

  I received a phone call from the studio, they wanted me to do my camo shot this week if possible. That couldn’t have worked out better.

  I had no lines, all I had to do was stand between two boxcars and shoot an arrow. They would show the arrow hitting a thug who was about to stab the star of the movie.

  I did try to ham it up a little by winking at the camera after I released the arrow, but they edited it out. It was a bit much for a serious scene, so I understand.

  I hung around the set for a little while. I was able to say. “Hi,” to some people I had worked with before. I thought their star would have wanted to talk to me about what it was really like, but he headed to his trailer as soon as his work was done.

  A couple of his hanger-ons were still there and asked who I was and why was I on the set. When an assistant told them, they laughed and stated that I should stay and see how a real man performs.

  At one time I would have been upset, or even in a fight. Today I just gave a small laugh and turned to walk away.

  “Hey, Buddy we are talking to you.”

  I kept walking. Not being stupid I walked in front of a klieg light that was still on. Anyone coming up behind me would have their shadow cast towards me.

  “Stop right there, we want words!”

  That did it, if they wanted words, they would have them, except my fists would do the talking. As I turned, they arrived. They were in the process of taking a swing at me.

  Using the momentum of my turn I drove a fist into the stomach of the one on the right. A kick in the shins of the other guy settled it down quickly.

  Studio guards were on the scene. Plenty of witnesses told how these guys chased me down and took a swing at me. I put them down so quickly they almost didn’t see it.

  The studio cops knew me, so I was allowed to proceed. The two guys wouldn’t be charged as the studio didn’t want bad publicity, but they would be banned from the lot.

  Mr. Monroe was called immediately as this was the procedure. He drove a studio golf cart.

  “Rick, are you okay?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure I want my camo in this movie.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to do anything that will help that Jackass star of yours.”

  “Your decision, however, it's your money in the film.”

  “Oh, heck I forgot about that, ok, go ahead but if that actor has friends like that, he is going to be trouble.”

  I didn’t let that sour my mood, I was in California the weather was great, and no one was seriously trying to kill me. Those guys didn’t count.

  At home, there was a package waiting for me. It was a portrait of the Chinese Imperial family. They are good-looking but the person who made the picture for me was May-Ling. The Granddaughter of Empress Ping. She was absolutely beautiful.

  I could see where her beauty came from, her father Crown Prince Chia-Hao was exceptionally tall for a Chinese. Her mother Ann an Englishwoman that Chia-Hao had met at Oxford was tall and beautiful by any standard in the world. May-Ling was a little taller than her Mother and had all her features.

  Her older brother Chun-Chieh took after his father in stature and looks.

  Her Uncle Prince Haoran had never married so he had no other family in the portrait. He started out looking like a smaller version of his older brother, but he had grown fat by leading a dissolute life. I had heard nothing good about him.

  The portrait would go up in my suite so I could see the beautiful May-Ling whenever I wanted to. I could end up dreaming my life away.

  In China, a different scene was playing out. An angry Prince Haoran was breaking lamps, and anything lose he could get his hands on.

  He had just read the proclamation his mother the Empress had issued, giving land to the soldiers that had gone to Siberia. He had promised it to his clique. These peasants didn’t deserve the land.

  They should be fighting for the rest of Russia and dying as that was all they were good for. His brother had agreed with his mother. He had argued against it, but they told him it was for the good of the Chinese people.

  What about him and his dreams? He could run China better than they could. Maybe it was time for a change.

  Finished for now.

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