by Don Quine
Reimer knew where to go.
CHAPTER 13
Had Elfri stayed on Oregon’s Route 82 and not turned onto the Lewiston-Enterprise Highway on her way to Lake Meadows, in a short while she would have come to a gem of town called Joseph where Dr. Everett Scythe lived in a gated home on Alpine Lane.
A retired prosthodontist, the Doctor had lived in Joseph for twenty years. He moved there from Boise where he sold his dental practice at the age of thirty-eight. The gay Doctor had a snowy beard and roly-poly build.
While the Doctor waited for Reimer and Fred to call, he tossed flakes to the Koi in his fish pond, sipped a martini, and thought how lucky he was to not only take pleasure in his work, but to profit handsomely from it by carving a niche in the billion-dollar human trafficking industry with Fred.
After feeding the fish in his manicured courtyard, the Doctor strolled back inside his home in his velvet house slippers, put down his drink on the fancy bar in the living room and picked up a small box.
There was a young girl behind the bar dressed like an Egyptian princess who looked lost in the Twilight Zone.
The Doctor handed the girl the box and told her to tell Archie to wrap it up nicely.
The princess nodded, turned toward the kitchen, then stopped when the Doctor said to her, “Who do you love, sugar lump?”
The princess turned back to the doctor, licked her finger and pointed it at the Doctor, coming on like a 12-year old, “I love you, Mister Man.”
Then she smiled, held the smile wide for a moment, and then scooted into the kitchen.
The girl’s smile pleased the Doctor because it showcased his latest work of which he was not only proud, but also from which, the princess included, he would stand to make two hundred thousand dollars.
American dollars, not Egypt pounds. Half down, half on delivery.
The fact that Cleo was fair-skinned and looked like a tween had a great deal to do with her value, but the dentures she wore displaying Sex Slave in Farsi when she smiled, those custom grills were a work of art and contributed to the Doctor’s multi-million dollar practice.
The top row الجنس was shaped with gold imbedded in red teeth; الرقيق was set on the bottom blue teeth with tiny diamonds.
These were not the fashion grills worn by celebrities, the Lady Gaga or Beyoncé ones that snap over your own teeth. A slave could snap those gala grills off and sell them to someone to buy her freedom, permanent teeth still showing. Where if she took the Doctor’s dentures out to sell, she was left with nothing but gums to show for it.
The Doctor included a regular set of dentures for the slave to wear if the slave owner wanted the slave looking normal in public and to not attract attention. He told his clients they should keep the regular dentures safe somewhere in case the slave was planning to escape, so she couldn’t grab and wear them and sell the jeweled ones. She could still do it, but would think twice, knowing a gummy mouth was not a good look if you were on the run in Qatar or China or Israel.
From making sure his wayward girls had phony I.D.s showing they were eighteen, legal age for sexual consent, with signed forms for the dental procedure which included the normal set of teeth, to delivering the Sex Slave or Pure Virgin or whatever the custom-order wanted, and then have the girls chauffeured to the Portland International Airport for the rich sheiks to pick up, it took the Doctor close to a month to produce a piece of art and turn it into commerce.
Archie, the Doctor’s houseman who dressed and acted like one, walked out from the kitchen with the small gift-wrapped box and a few other ribbon-wrapped presents.
“Would you prefer Alaskan salmon or lamb this evening, Doctor?” Archie spoke in a proper British accent.
“The salmon. And artichokes instead of brussel sprouts, Archie,” the Doctor said and placed the presents on the bar.
“Tillamook Cheddar on the chili fries, sir?”
The Doctor nodded.
Archie went back to his business as his cell phone rang. The Doctor looked at who the caller was, then put the phone on speaker, shouting, “Praise the Lord!” Laughing that Reimer was at long last free. The Doctor reminding himself that Reimer’s mental state needed to be handled with kid gloves. Just because he was out of his mind, didn’t mean Reimer was stupid.
Like the cutie pie who flashed her Farsi smile and took the Doctor’s medications without issue, clueless that in a few days she’d be some sheik’s sex toy, after a few years resold at private auction or wind up working the streets in Karachi for a gang of sadistic pimps. Depended on how well she held up. How badly she got abused.
Oh, well.
The Doctor long ago embraced the fact that life was unfair.
CHAPTER 14
Leon Bickford and the flame-haired boy got out of the ’71 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow, Leon from the passenger side, the boy from the driver’s.
Elfri was towel-drying the Express and Will was coiling up the water hose when the Rolls pulled up from the access road that rimmed the lot and continued west to Ventures Nest. They both stopped their cleaning as Leon and the boy walked over to the bus. The vehicles that belonged to the other Nestlings sat nearby in the huge S2S parking lot.
“Hi,” Elfri said, smiling at the boy. Leon extended his hand.
“Good morning, Elfri. We met briefly at the alley yesterday. Leon Bickford.”
Elfri shook Leon’s hand again. It felt the same as when he welcomed her in the bowling alley, firm and warm. Today his Hawaiian shirt had hula girls and palm trees to go with his shorts and flip-flops, cool suspenders like yesterday, but now he also wore a black cowboy hat.
Elfri nodded to Will.
“This is my grandfather, Will Fleming.”
Will and Leon shook hands, sized each other up. Leon took off the black cowboy hat. Looked it over for a moment with affection. Sized it up.
Will curled his mustache, said, “Well-kept old fella.”
“He has seen his day,” Leon said.
“May I?”
Leon passed Will the hat.
Will took it carefully, pinched the felt edge softly. Eye leveled it from both sides, front and back. Nodded. Looked at Leon.
“Do you think if I turned it over I might find evidence that Stetson manufactured this pencil curl brim a good while back, maybe before I was born?”
Leon said, “There is that likelihood.”
“You understand, that’s a good while back.”
Leon nodded.
Elfri let Will and Leon play with the hat and walked over to the boy who was staring at her painting of Slumber on the bus.
“Hi, I’m Elfri.”
Chip turned to her.
His eyes darted here and there, on guard until they finally settled into a transfixed stare, captured by Elfri’s eyes.
Elfri said, “When you have different color irises in your eyes like I do, it’s called heterochromia. Gets you lots of stares and comments. But you get use to it.”
Chip smiled shyly at Elfri, nodded, and looked back up to Slumber on the bus. Then back to Elfri who could tell he wanted some lowdown.
“Her name is Slumber. She’s the hero of my comic book, Dream Zoo.”
Chip nodded like he knew that.
Leon turned from Will and put his hand on Chip’s shoulder.
“Chip has had his eye on the Dreamland Express since you folks arrived yesterday morning.”
Will said, “Elfri painted it herself four years ago. Took a good week.”
Elfri said, “Needs a touch up.”
“Finding out that you have a comic book to go along with the Dreamland Express, well . . .”
Leon looked from Chip back to Elfri and Will.
“Truth is, I haven’t seen Chip this excited since he got his first tarantula.”
Will said, “Would you like an inside tour, Chi
p?”
It was obvious Chip was not into talking.
Leon looked at Chip, “We good?”
Chip nodded and Leon turned to Elfri and Will.
“Chip wants you to know he had a bad experience when he was five that put a lock on his desire to talk. We’ve seen the best doctors. No physiological issues. They say the key’s buried in Chip’s defense system somewhere, that when he feels okay about what happened, he should be able to speak just fine.”
Elfri and Will looked at Chip who looked back at them.
“Chip listens, understands, and behaves better than most on my payroll, which is the only reason I adopted him.”
Chip whacked Leon.
“Okay. It’s not the only reason.”
Elfri and Will were all ears now, wanted to know more.
“If he wants, Chip has a way of communicating that seems to work for whoever you are and whatever your relationship is to him. Last night he let me know he’d like you to follow us back to our place this morning, just a few blocks from here, and take a look at a parking spot that might be more to your liking, not that the alley lot’s bad or anything, but it would give the bus a more private place to rest during your summer at Ventures Nest.”
Elfri and Will looked at each other while Leon began to unplug the bus hookup from the electric panel.
“We’d love to show you around, have lunch, talk a little about things; about an offer that I’d like to make to you.”
Leon gave Elfri and Will a moment.
“Unless you have something penciled in?”
Elfri looked at Chip.
“Not until three. Be okay if Chip rides in the bus?”
Leon looked at Will.
“I don’t like to drive.”
Will said, “Last time I drove a Rolls was in Caldwell, Idaho. Taking home a rich rancher who had too much to drink at his wife’s funeral.”
Will looked at Chip.
“Keys in the ignition?”
Chip nodded and headed for the bus with Elfri; Will and Leon toward the Rolls.
“How’d she die?” Leon asked.
Will shook his head.
“Knowing this rancher the short time I did, the poor woman probably shot herself. He was one of those men with bad breath and body odor who never shut up about hoof and mouth disease and all the dirty Commies that his dad killed.”
Will climbed into the driver’s seat of the Rolls Royce and said, “I know the type.”
CHAPTER 15
Will took a swig then slid the beer bottle down in the slot of the patio chair arm. Leon sat in a matching chair and adjusted its shade visor from the noonday sun. Both men were barefoot on the large cobblestoned back porch balcony of Leon’s impressive estate that overlooked a private wharf and boathouse. Across the lake was Main Streat where Leon pointed.
“At night when the tourists are out and Main Streat’s all lit up, I kick back here and watch Wonder Way reflecting off the water,” Leon said. “It’s tranquil, yet at the same time, stimulating.”
Will stood up with a grimace. Leon looked at him.
Will said, “I’m okay once I stretch a little.”
Leon picked up a cell phone, pressed a number, then stood and started doing jumping jacks. Will watched bemused.
“That doesn’t bother your dogs?”
“Reflexology in action...the different shapes of the cobblestones massage a multitude of zones in the feet which helps reduce stress and anxiety. Good for back pain, too. Give it a try.”
Will stretched and sat back down. “Maybe later.”
Leon stopped jumping and turned to the chime ring from his cellphone, picked it up and said, “Tallula, can you fix some sandwiches?”
While the back of Leon’s property faced the lake, the front faced Lake Meadows Road from where a long drive ran up to the estate and then down and around to a four-car garage.
Like many of the older properties in town, it took design inspiration from the geodesic dome and was set at the rear of the wooded landscape. It had a sculptured chimney, handcrafted doors, and stained-glass windows with blooming jasmine that climbed its rock walls. Giant conifers shaded the estate tended by a few workers who waved to Leon as he drove past a stable in his electric cart, solar powered like the Nest shuttles.
Next to the stable was a fenced area for dogs to play, kennels for them to stay in and bark when they smelled something tasty or suspicious.
Will sat beside Leon and eyed the twin-paddock horse setups and the shaded corrals.
“That stiff back of yours keep you out of the saddle, Will?”
“Riding actually helps, Leon.”
“Ever rode an Appaloosa?”
Leon pointed to the corralled horses Will was looking at.
“Those ponies look more like crossbred Appies, maybe some Nez Perce in them?”
Leon smiled.
“I’m thinking horses and hats and the cowboy way is a life you’re familiar with.”
“Rode my first pony when I was two. Misty. Had to put her down when she broke a leg.” Will shook his head, rattled old memories. “Tore me to pieces.”
Leon pushed a button on his phone, then said, “Tallula, hold up on lunch for an hour, will you.”
Inside the Express, Elfri watched Chip flip through the pages of his seventh DZ comic in the hour or more they’d been seated across from one another at one of the fold-up desks from under the pullout seats.
Elfri talked and Chip listened, but his head stayed buried in the comic, so Elfri was mainly talking to herself.
“I haven’t released any new issues for a while, actually like a couple of years, and it’s one of the things I’m hoping to get feedback on at Ventures Nest. What I should do with the new ones with adult themes; romance and sex and violence?”
Elfri finished her sketch of Chip reading while she talked, and they both turned to the front of the bus when Will said, “Leon wants to show us around town.”
Elfri and Will and Leon rode the Appies, Chip sat bareback on his golden Palomino called Trigger. From Leon’s stables and back, the ride lasted just short of an hour and the trail ran from the southern area of the lake where the older estates like Leon’s were, up into the lower mountain range that bordered Lake Meadows on the east.
They were passing behind Ravens Rest whose property ran several acres back from the lake shoreline when Leon pointed, and said “A few interesting stories buried down there.”
In between the trees and brush, Elfri caught glimpses of tombstones as Leon explained the town had two cemeteries, one for pets as well as for their owners. Then Leon shared that Chip paid weekly visits to his mother and his pup, and there were some tables and benches, so you could have snacks and spend a little time with the ones you loved that had passed on.
The trail continued north around the top edge of town and when it reached a rise near a small clearing you could see out over the lake and town and get a peek of Ventures Nest.
“Now there’s a picture postcard for you,” Will said, admiring the view.
Leon nodded.
“They’re for sale at the Visitor’s Center for three bucks. Two for five.”
They rode farther, skirted the east side of the campus, Leon pointing out Scarface and the first carving in its enormous trunk by a Nez Perce Indian back in 1932, a fish symbol with sun rays. That was shortly after the tree suffered the lightening strike that formed the large gash. During the nudist resort years, hundreds of hearts and arrows, initials, artful animals, and short quotes were carved in the tree. Then, no one knows for sure when it was, probably at night, but word was it was Chuck Montrose who did it, the Nature Lovers Retreat long-time landscaper who carved SCARFACE on the tree because it was done so artfully and high up on the trunk so you’d need a long ladder like the kind Chuck had.
Leon m
entioned nothing about what the tree trunk had hidden in its gash.
He led his guests past Oliver’s cabin. “Oliver built it himself, first year here.” Elfri wanted to look inside. Will said, looking at the rocking chair on the front porch, “What more do you really need?”
Leon informed them that being on the trail after sunset you might sight badgers, bears, coyotes, and wolves; how some of the wildlife snuck into town at night for scraps of food and small pets in backyards.
Chip headed Trigger toward the helicopter, Leon filling in how and when the chopper came to be on the landing strip until he caught Elfri glancing at her watch, and said, “We’ll get you back for your 3:00 appointment in plenty of time,” and then picked up the pace.
They circled around the northern rim of the campus, trotted west down to the access road on the side of the Nest and rode the road south into town where it ended at the bowling alley parking lot. They watched for cars, crossed Snake Canyon Road, picked up the trail that rimmed the motel and continued up to the south side of the lake and Leon’s estate.
The Express was parked under a big spruce and plugged into a new RV hookup for electricity, water, and waste. Wildflowers ran rampant. Butterflies fluttered and birds chirped in the setting with a gazebo, benches and tables, and a big outdoor BBQ.
“Seems like you’re really into that one,” Elfri said.
Chip lowered his sandwich, flipped the comic book to its cover page and held Smooch Saves a Baby Dragon up for Leon.
“Love the cover illustration, Elfri, the expression on the baby’s face, so helpless and trusting; that little bit of fire dripping off the side of his mouth,” Leon said.
“Thanks.” Elfri popped a grape in her mouth. Will chewed potato chips.
“Can I ask you a question, Elfri?”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you stop drawing Dream Zoo? What’s it been now, a couple of years?”
Elfri got up from the table, looked hard at Leon.
“How come you seem to know so fucking much about me and my comic books?”