“You better start looking into the schedule then,” the Colonel said. “I’ll take Loren for some lunch—I know several great seafood restaurants in the area.”
The Colonel looked back at Franklin and Devora as he steered Loren out of the building. He didn’t break eye contact until he opened the back door for Loren and the two of them walked into the promise of San Diego sunshine.
* * * *
“He’s not used to being alone,” Priscilla said to Melanie as she kissed Clay goodbye.
“He’s not going to be alone,” Vivien said, trying to calm Priscilla’s fears. “He’s got Tweeter and Woofer to play with.”
Vivien looked over to Melanie’s front porch, where the two dogs waited patiently for their new playmate to be released.
“He’ll be just fine,” Melanie said, holding Clay by the collar as Marco helped Priscilla, pale and trembling, into the passenger seat.
Vivien looked over at Shrimpfork. This was the first time she’d be leaving it. She felt somewhat like Priscilla leaving Clay.
“And I won’t let anybody near your tiny house, either. You just have a good time at the show.”
“Thanks, Melanie,” Vivien said as she climbed into the back of the cab. “We shouldn’t be too late.”
“We’ll be here,” Melanie said, slamming the passenger door and waving as Marco drove out of the vineyard. “Good luck!”
Vivien caught Marco’s eye in the rearview mirror.
Last night might have cemented their relationship as a team, but they were still going to need all the luck they could get.
Chapter 27
The cars in the parking lot looked like multi-colored salmon jockeying for position as they swam upstream. Young men and women in red vests pointed right and left, sending cars and trucks to far flung corners of the parking lot. Marco rolled down his window and spoke to a bored teenager.
“My friend here has a pass,” Marco said.
“What kind of pass?” the teenager asked. “An orange pass? A green pass? A puce pass?”
“You have a puce pass? Marco asked.
The teenager was in no mood for humor.
“I don’t know what color it is,” Marco said. “It’s a pass to get something appraised.”
“That’s the gold pass,” Johnny—according to the name on his vest—droned, putting out his hand.
“Great,” Marco said. “My friend has a gold pass.”
“Let’s see it,” Johnny said.
“I don’t have it,” Priscilla said. “I’m supposed to pick it up.”
“You need to go to will-call,” Johnny said, pointing to a tent erected in the parking lot a hundred feet away.
“Okay, thanks,” Marco said.
“Hang on,” Johnny said. “You have to park first. Follow that car over there.”
“My friend is a little…” Marco began.
Vivien smiled. She knew he didn’t want to say “old” out loud.
Johnny peered at Priscilla perched in the passenger seat.
“Got a handicapped placard?”
“Not that I know of,” Priscilla said.
“Then follow that car.” Johnny pointed languidly again.
“Young man,” Priscilla said, while rooting around in her purse.
“Yeah?” Johnny said.
Cars were starting to honk behind them.
Priscilla handed him a hundred dollar bill.
Johnny pocketed it quickly, and slapped a sticker on the windshield.
“There’s VIP parking right next to the will-call tent,” Johnny said. “Have a nice day.”
Vivien and Marco stared at Priscilla as they headed toward the tent.
“What?” Priscilla said smugly, settling back in her seat. “Many things may have changed since I was a girl. But money still talks.”
At the tent, they spoke with a woman wearing “Angie” on her nametag. She gave them their tickets and the pass to the arena, where they would meet with one of the shows assistants for an evaluation.
“I don’t want to talk to an assistant,” Priscilla said. “I just want to see the Colonel. It won’t take long.”
“That’s what they all say,” Angie said. “Just go through that door. Somebody will take your pass.”
Vivien could see Priscilla about to offer another bribe, but Vivien steadied Priscilla’s hand.
“I think it’s too late for that,” Vivien said. “Let’s just go with it. You never know what’s going to happen.”
Priscilla seemed to shrink as they made their way through the crowd. Vivien’s heart cracked with love as she watched Marco protectively take Priscilla’s arm. In moments, they were whisked into a section of the venue sectioned off with crowd control barriers made of steel.
“These guys aren’t kidding around,” Marco said quietly to Vivien.
“I just want to see the Colonel,” Priscilla said, sounding panicky.
“I know,” Vivien said. “We’ll see what we can do. Just breathe.”
Vivien looked at Marco. What had they been thinking? This was madness! She looked around. The crowd was packed in behind them. It was too late to do anything but keep going and hope for the best. Or at least, hope for something less than the worst.
Franklin’s massive form stepped into the spotlight.
“Hello, everyone,” Franklin said into a microphone. “Welcome to our show. Hmmm, what’s the name of our show?”
He put his hand to his ear as the crowd chanted, “This Old Thing?”
“What was that?” Franklin asked again. “I can’t hear you.”
“This Old Thing?” the audience roared.
Vivien saw Priscilla put her hands over her ears. Franklin might have been warming up the crowd, but he was leaving Priscilla cold.
“My assistants and I are going to meet with each and every one of you and see which lucky few will meet the Colonel,” Franklin said.
“Did you hear that?” Priscilla asked Vivien and Marco. “I might get to show Hilda to him after all.”
“I think he means you’d be appearing on the show,” Vivien said.
“But I don’t want to,” Priscilla said. “I don’t have any interest on being on TV. Why doesn’t anyone seem to understand?”
A new set of people working for the show started to fan through the selected audience members in the fenced-off area. This group wore blue vests. Miraculously, Franklin appeared out of nowhere and was suddenly towering over Priscilla.
“Well, hello there,” Franklin beamed. “And what did you bring?”
Vivien started to panic. She hadn’t really believed they would get to this point. This man was going to laugh Priscilla right back to Sandstone. She started to reach toward Priscilla, but it was too late! Priscilla had pulled Hilda from her purse.
Vivien grabbed Marco’s arm as they waited. Marco and Vivien looked at each other. Hilda looked more bedraggled than ever, having spent the last few days in a huge purse. In a certain light, you could even make out the crack on her head. And of course, there was that one-eyed business.
This was a disaster.
“She looks very, very old,” Franklin said kindly.
“She is,” Priscilla said.
Vivien could see Priscilla was trying to keep her hands by her side, so she wouldn’t grab Hilda back.
“And well-loved,” Franklin said kindly.
“Oh, I’ve had her for years and years.” Priscilla brightened. “And loved her the whole time.”
“I think we might have a winner here,” Franklin said.
Marco and Vivien gasped. Priscilla lit up as Franklin handed her back the doll.
“I’ll send someone over to take you to your podium,” Franklin said.
Her podium?
Vivien had forgotten that Marco and Priscilla spoke the language of
the show and apparently know what “the podium” meant. Priscilla was shaking her head.
“It means he wants her to be on the show,” Marco translated to Vivien.
“I don’t want to be on the show,” Priscilla said. “I just want a minute with the Colonel.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Franklin said, his mask slipping. He adjusted it quickly and grinned. “If you want to see the Colonel, you have to be on the show.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Priscilla fretted.
“Of course, it’s up to you,” Franklin said. “But I think you have something quite special here. Even…spectacular.”
Priscilla looked to Marco and Vivien. Franklin followed her eyes.
“You have one minute to talk grandma into this, or I’m going to have you escorted out,” Franklin said. He ignored Marco but looked Vivien up and down before adding, “Or you could take her place.”
“Could they come with me?” Priscilla asked. “I know you don’t usually have more than two people meet with the Colonel on the air, but could you make an exception?”
“I guess I could, in this case,” Franklin said. “Our show has never seen anything like this before. This will be a real treat.”
Vivien couldn’t believe her ears.
Was Hilda valuable after all? And if so, did she and Marco ruin her by breaking her—or worse, gluing her back together? Should they confess?
“If it’s the only way I can speak to the Colonel….” Priscilla said in a quivery voice.
“It’s the only way,” Franklin said solemnly.
“I’ll do it,” Priscilla said, trying to sound brave.
“Good,” Franklin said. “And you know what? I’ll even take you over to your podium personally.”
He put out his arm, but Priscilla didn’t take it. Vivien knew Priscilla was just terrified, but she worried Priscilla might seem as if she were being rude or haughty. In any case, Franklin didn’t seem to notice.
Marco took Priscilla’s hand and placed her arm though his. It was the only way Priscilla was going to manage the walk.
“Maybe when the Colonel comes over, I can just have a tiny minute with him before the show starts,” Priscilla said.
“Sure,” Marco said.
“But would it be the end of the world if you were on the show?” Vivien said.
As Franklin indicated their spot on the stage, Vivien and Marco both realized that they’d been placed at the very last podium. The fantasy of a quick word with the Colonel was now an impossibility.
“I think you’d be a hit,” Marco said.
“And you did tell that nice man you’d do it,” Vivien said.
“Let’s play it by ear,” Marco coaxed.
“Okay,” Priscilla said. “I’ll try.”
Vivien and Marco exchanged a glance. At this point, all they wanted to do was get Priscilla through this and out the other side.
Chapter 28
It was showtime.
The lights went down, leaving the audience in the dark. Priscilla had put Hilda on the podium and was holding on to her with both hands. Vivien gripped one of Priscilla’s trembling shoulders and as her eyes adjusted to the light, she could see Marco had laid his hand on the other.
There was so much going on, that Vivien tried to push the thought that she might be in love out of her mind.
“Hello, San Diego!” Franklin’s voice thundered as laser beams shot through the large room.
The roar of the crowd was so loud its energy seemed to lift people off their feet.
“What did you bring today?” Franklin asked.
“You mean This Old Thing?” the crowd screamed.
“What are we going to be looking at today?” Franklin bawled.
“You mean This Old Thing?” the crowd chanted, knowing the patter by heart.
“Colonel Cornwall Abbott is going to look over all the hidden treasures of San Diego,” Franklin called to raucous applause. “Will he find something special when you show him…”
“This! Old! Thing!”
The crowd recited. Vivien knew that Priscilla knew this open by heart, but she seemed frozen. Marco was smiling, trying to get Priscilla to join in, but she just stood with her hands gripping Hilda as if her life depended on it.
* * * *
The Colonel stayed hidden from the crowd as the applause continued. He watched Franklin toss his microphone to a production assistant. The Colonel lost Franklin in the crowd for a minute, but caught up with him again as Franklin strode confidently toward Devora. The Colonel looked over at Devora, who ignored Franklin. She was still schmoozing Loren from the network for all she was worth. The Colonel knew that the presence of a network exec, however clueless to the scheme, would be just the cover Devora and Franklin needed if they were trying to pull a coup tonight.
The Colonel looked over the audience. The larger group, who were just here to watch the jubilation or, more satisfying, the disappointment of the six chosen contestants, who were standing in a semi-circle in the middle of the ballroom. Although the room was still dim, the Colonel could make out the silhouettes of the six podiums. Everything looked as it should. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe everything was going to be business as usual. He looked back at Devora and Franklin.
No, there was something going on.
But what?
And could he stop it?
There was no time to worry about it. He had a show to do. He waited for the audience’s applause to reach a fever pitch. When he was satisfied with the decibel level, he signaled a floor manager, who signaled another supervisor, who signaled the lighting people in the rafters. The Colonel had his game face on seconds before the spotlight hit him.
The Colonel was always momentarily blinded by the spotlight, but he had memorized how many steps he needed to take before he hit his mark in the middle of the six podiums.
The adulation from the throng always made him feel invincible.
He’d been here before and he’d won. He was older now, but he still had some fight in him. Franklin, the cub, would not be taking the old lion down—at least not today.
“Hello, my lovelies,” he said to the crowd.
* * * *
Vivien had only a vague sense of the Colonel speaking to the guests at the other podiums. The offerings were a valuable airmail stamp with a plane printed upside down, a pair of ladies’ Edwardian boots with real ruby studs, a gold pocket watch that turned out to be made of gold, and an ugly painting that turned out to be just an ugly painting. Vivien could feel Priscilla vibrating with fear and excitement as the spotlight crept toward them. When the Colonel approached, Priscilla suddenly turned to Vivien, shoving Hilda in her hand.
“I can’t do it,” Priscilla said. “I just can’t.”
By the time the spotlight encased them, Vivien and Marco faced the Colonel, while Priscilla hid behind Marco’s back. The audience laughed. Vivien could see the confusion on the Colonel’s face. The audience could see Priscilla, but the Colonel could not.
“We’ve had a very exciting day so far,” the Colonel said, playing to the crowd. “Shall we see if we’ve saved the best for last?”
Vivien turned to Marco for help, but he seemed starstruck and appeared frozen. She was on her own. Vivien looked at the Colonel. Even though he was wearing makeup, Vivien was surprised how much older he looked in person.
“Well?” the Colonel said. “Who might you be?”
“I’m Vivien,” Vivien said.
“And where are you from, Vivien?”
“Originally from Florida, but I’ve come here from New Mexico,” she said.
“New Mexico? Looks like you got the memo we weren’t coming.” The Colonel turned toward the crowd, who laughed uproariously, pleased with themselves for getting the joke that Taos had been canceled. “You must be very de
termined to see us here on This Old Thing? So let’s take a look.”
The Colonel put out his hand. Marco seemed to get unstuck from his trance and put his hand on the small of Vivien’s back. They were in this together. Vivien handed Hilda to the Colonel carefully, so Hilda looked like a sleeping baby doll with her eyes closed—or eye closed, as the case may be.
There was stunned silence in the audience. No one knew what to make of this tattered doll. Vivien saw the Colonel look past the cameras at the first man they’d talked to, Franklin, who smiled wickedly. Vivien had no idea what that was all about, but wanted the Colonel to focus so they could get this over with as little damage to Priscilla’s psyche as possible. Vivien could see the large screen TV on one of the walls. The camera was close on the doll as the Colonel raised Hilda up.
As he did, Hilda’s eyelids opened. He gave a little shriek as Hilda stared at him with her one eye. The crowd gasped and applauded wildly. Vivien looked back at the screen. The camera was now panning through the audience. Everyone was laughing.
Except the Colonel, who had turned deathly white.
“Where did you get this?” he asked in a harsh whisper, barely audible above the crowd.
“I…” Vivien said.
She wasn’t sure how to explain. The Colonel still hadn’t noticed Priscilla, although a camera on a crane flew overhead, showing her leaning on Marco for cover. Had Franklin set this whole thing up as a joke?
The Colonel continued to stare at Hilda. Suddenly, he held Hilda up and cracked her head on the podium. The audience gasped as the doll’s head split neatly in two.
“It’s her,” the Colonel said. “My God!”
There was dead silence in the audience.
“Where did you find her?” the Colonel asked, his eyes searching Vivien and then Marco’s face.
He was deadly serious.
Audience members and the guests at the podiums jumped as Janis Joplin’s wailing echoed through the hall as “Ball and Chain” erupted from behind Marco.
The Colonel’s face split into an astonished grin.
“Priscilla!” he said. “Is that you?”
“Hello, Corny,” Priscilla said from behind Marco.
Tiny House on the Road Page 18