by Gahan Hanmer
"You were behaving very queerly, Albert. When I asked you a point-blank question about it, you almost dropped your teeth into the Béarnaise sauce."
"Well, I didn't have anything to do with it."
"Okay, Albert, I believe you. What difference does it make now?"
"But I did know that it was going to happen."
"So I really wasn't so far off base after all."
"No, you weren't."
"How did you know?"
"Because I wanted to know. And because I'm willing to pay people to find out what I want to know. Channels of communication tend to stay open between people who share a common interest."
"Between zillionaires, you mean."
Albert nodded. "That's one of the reasons we have country clubs. It's a pleasant and private place where we can gather and gossip about things that concern us."
"So why did you have me packed and crated and delivered up here?"
"Jack, I'm so sorry! Rudy told me what happened, and I meant to say something to you about it earlier, but I was so happy to see you, it totally slipped my mind!"
"Don't worry about it, Albert. I can take a joke. But if you don't tell me right now what this is all about, I'm going to come over and shake it out of you."
"Good morning, Albert dear. Good morning, Jack. I trust I'm not interrupting anything."
That was Jenna, making her appearance, freshly groomed in slacks and a silk blouse. She went right to Albert and kissed him sweetly. He looked up at her with his light blue eyes filled with affection, and I knew in that moment how dangerously infatuated I'd already become.
"Sit down, my dear," said Albert, "and help us finish this delicious breakfast. Jack asked me why I invited him here, and I'm afraid I've been beating about the bush."
Jenna held out a cup to Albert, and while he was pouring her coffee, she flashed me a look of such tender yearning and complicity that I saw I would have every possible opportunity for two-timing my host under his own roof.
"You haven't told him yet?" said Jenna to Albert.
"Perhaps he won't even believe it," said Albert.
"Perhaps not," said Jenna. Then she turned to me with a dazzling smile. "Jack, Albert has created a little country of his own. It's a monarchy, and he's the king."
"It didn't happen in a day, Jack," said Albert. "Actually, it's over fifteen years since we brought in the first people, mostly farming families that had lost their farms to banks and conglomerates but yearned to continue their old way of life."
"Of course there are tradesmen, too," said Jenna. "Blacksmiths and millers and weavers . . ."
"Wheelwrights and masons and fletchers," said Albert. "What do you think, my dear? I'm not so sure he believes us."
Jenna smiled at me. "You look a little confused, Jack."
"No, I'm sorry, but I don't get it. You made yourself a king, you say? How can you do that?"
"I gave people land to farm. I gave them seeds to plant. I gave them cows and goats and sheep and pigs and chickens and geese. In return I ask them to respect my sovreignty and to obey my rules."
For awhile I just sat there staring. He wasn't joking, as far as I could tell, but what he was saying didn't make any sense. "And what happens to people who don't obey your rules?"
"I throw them into the dungeon until they're ready to behave themselves."
"It's an awful dungeon, Jack," said Jenna. "No one who's been in it once ever wants to go back in again."
"Albert," I laughed, "you're making this up. How could you get away with such a thing?"
"It works very well. I don't keep a person in the dungeon any longer than I think will do him good. He comes out filthy and stinking and rat-nipped, and everyone has a good laugh at his expense. Then he goes home and gets cleaned up and goes back to his farming or his trade with a more compliant attitude. Life goes on."
They both looked like they were telling the truth, but that didn't make it possible. "Albert, give me a break, will you? You can't have a kingdom in the United States."
"Oh, Jack, don't be so naïve. The U.S. is full of private roads with gates and guards, and you'd be very surprised at the queer sorts of things you'd find at the ends of those roads. This is a huge country, and there's plenty of room for any kind of a secret you can afford to keep."
Jenna was growing restless. "Albert, dear, just tell him about our kingdom. Jack, it isn't even in the United States. It's far north of the border."
"It's in Canada?"
"Well, technically yes," said Albert. "I had to put a great deal of money into some Canadian pockets for my ninety-nine year lease. I'm joking about the lease, you understand, but it's not really anywhere at all. You'll see what I mean. It's hundreds of miles from anything bigger than an Indian village, up there where everything is fresh and new."
My mind was still telling me that this was probably just a big put-on, and that any second they would burst out laughing. But from my toes to my scalp, my body was tingling with a new and strange kind of energy, very pleasant and exciting.
"Well, okay Albert, I sort of believe you. But what's it for?"
"What's it for? It's my life's work. You know I inherited hugely when my parents died. Their plane crash was so very unexpected, it almost killed me with confusion to have so much money dumped on me at such a young age. I hadn't any idea what to do with so much money, none at all." Albert paused, and I could almost see his memories come flooding back.
"And there were scads of people suddenly rushing at me from all sides with advice and schemes, not to mention the most vulgar propositions of every kind. Émile and Hélène really saved me from losing my mind, I think, by arranging a situation of deep and secret seclusion for me where I had the time and the privacy to adjust to my situation."
I could see in his eyes something of what he must have gone through. Jenna came around behind his chair and gave him a little hug.
"Well, that was ages ago, or so it seems anyway," he went on. "I wanted to do something special with that money. I wanted to do something unique. I knew that none of those schemers and sycophants had anything to offer me in the way of ideas. I knew I had to come up with a plan all by myself. And then very late one night I had a vision of a land that was free from pollution, free from corruption and greed and graft; free from the callous materialism that is tearing our beautiful world to shreds. In other words, a new land where people could live in peace and nurture their true, natural spirit within, free from . . ."
"Vulgarity," I said. It wasn't very nice of me to shoot him down out of the stratosphere of his vision, but he was pissing me off. I suppose that was because I myself at one time had a vision of a little theater that was free from a lot of those same things and it was all ashes now. Jenna shot me a disapproving look, but Albert just turned toward me and said,
"Yes, exactly."
"And so how did you do? Did you succeed?"
"No. Not like that. I had a lot to learn about people, Jack, about humanity, about the human predicament. I had a lot to learn about myself, God knows. No, I didn’t succeed in creating anything like my vision. But I did succeed in creating something very different from anything you've ever seen in your whole life. Am I right, my dear?"
"Yes, Albert," Jenna said softly, "quite right. There is nothing on this planet right now like your beautiful kingdom."
Neither of them were looking at me now. They were both seeing something in the mind's eye. I don't know quite how to describe it, except that it was as if their eyes had both turned the same shade of gray. There was an aura around them, a completeness, a kind of grandeur. Maybe it was right at that moment when the door of my fate closed softly behind me.
"Okay, Albert," I said. "Against my better judgment I feel like maybe I believe you. But with all the water that has gone under the dam since I last saw you, I can't believe that you had me kidnapped just to tell me about your dreams. So for the tenth time, what am I doing here?"
Well, they both looked at me, and then they looked
at each other; and if I hadn't been soft-headed with curiosity, I would have recognized that look right away. We've all seen it a million times and what it said was, "We better not tell him too much!" But like a chump, I let it pass right by.
"It's lonely at the top, Jack," Albert said finally. "I need a real friend now, a man like yourself. I need someone who can beat me at chess occasionally and who'll tell me I'm an ass if that's what I need to hear. I need someone I can trust the way I trust you; someone who can see through the shadows into the true meaning of things. I need someone to make my kingdom a beacon in the darkness! But I'm not being entirely selfish either, you know. Given what I know about your present situation, I'd be very disappointed in you if you let an opportunity like this go by. Unless, of course, you're satisfied with your little cottage in Marysville."
"I have some debts I need to settle, Albert."
"Yes, I know. I hope you will forgive me, but it was such a piddling sum that I paid them off for you."
Floored, I didn't know what to say. I felt excited and energized, and I was already looking forward to something unusual and challenging. "Give me a minute, will you?" I left the table and headed out onto the terrace; a few minutes later Jenna joined me.
"It sounds like you really like it there," I said.
"Oh, yes," she replied, "I love it there. Each time I come back to the modern world, the life here seems a little more absurd, a little more intolerable. I'm not the least bit comfortable here any longer."
"Will you be going back this time with Albert?"
"Yes. My coronation takes place at the end of this month."
Her answer snapped my head around. "You're going to be queen?"
"Yes, Jack. I'm going to be queen."
"It's really a kingdom, this thing Albert cooked up? It's not just some kind of a commune or a co-op?"
"It's a real kingdom right out of a storybook."
"Swords and horses?"
"Yes."
"Wizards and dragons?"
"There's only one way to find out."
"Suppose it just isn't my cup of tea?"
She paused and seemed uncertain what to say. I was just beginning to wonder if there was a catch, when she said, "No one will try to keep you there against your will."
"Well, I guess it's a deal then."
She took my hand and squeezed it. "I'm glad, Jack. I'm so very glad. I'm going to tell Albert," she said, and she left me to my fantasies.
Chapter Three
In the afternoon on the nineteenth of that month, the transport helicopter set down in a field between two mountains, and we unloaded the horses and baggage.
It had been a long, noisy flight; it seemed like hours since we had seen so much as the smoke from a lonesome cabin. I had no idea how many hundreds of miles of wilderness had passed below us.
I was very glad to be on the ground, glad to pull the earplugs out. The horses were restless and stomping and Maxine's little girl, Mimi, was whining; but as soon as the helicopter with its crew of stonefaced young soldiers was gone, and the throbbing of the rotors faded away in the distance, the silence of those mountains descended around us like a healing benediction.
Everyone was affected by the silence. When you live around cities, you grow accustomed to thinking of the world as a crowded place where mankind and his works can hardly find room. But in that wild vastness, our little group of eight people seemed like a few grains of dust.
The horses were settling down. The little girl was quiet now, holding her mother's hand. Everyone was listening to the sound of the wind as it swayed the grasses, and the occasional bird, but mostly we were listening to the echoing of the silence.
"Begin," said Albert. To my surprise, everyone started walking off in different directions. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there with Albert.
"What's going on?" I asked him, but he tapped his lips for silence.
They were gathering wood. The women brought back twigs and sticks. The men dragged back dead boughs and broke them up. Pretty soon there was a neat pile big enough for a good size bonfire. They seemed to know when they had enough, but Émile looked to Albert for confirmation.
Albert nodded. There was a feeling of expectation, a sense of ritual. Something was going to happen, something pleasant. Whatever it was, they were looking forward to it. Even Rudy Strapp, who revealed little of what he was thinking or feeling, seemed caught up in the general anticipation.
Émile prepared the fire while everyone watched, and when it was crackling away, Albert nodded again. The women collected some of the luggage, and disappeared into a nearby grove of trees. The men started to undress, throwing their clothes into a common pile. Émile was unpacking clothes from the other bags and handing them around. He handed me a folded stack and I shook them out. I had worn clothes like these before, but only on the stage: tights and a tunic, boots and a cloak, a leather belt with a wallet and dagger, a hat with a feather, even a codpiece.
I started to pull on the tights, but Émile wagged a finger at me, pointing to my white cotton briefs. Onto the discard pile they went. Then I pulled on the tights and tied the codpiece on top. I'd never worn one before. It was made of molded leather and rather stiff, though roomy inside. It would offer a fair bit of protection from a blow or a kick.
Albert's clothes were very nice indeed, with gold thread in the tunic and fur on the collar of his cloak. After we were all dressed, we fed the fire and waited for the women in silence. Finally they came back from the grove, wearing their new garments and dumping the old ones in the pile with ours. They were all wearing medieval riding costumes, with pantaloons tucked into soft boots and long jackets under their cloaks. The servants all wore the same colors, some kind of livery perhaps to identify them with Albert. Rudy and I were dressed similarly, with the right sides of our tunics padded with leather.
Whoever had designed all these clothes had done a good job. We were a very authentic-looking group. The men's tights were hand-loomed; the daggers had come from an armorer's forge, not a factory. Everything, even our hand-stitched leather baggage, had the unmistakable texture of handicraft. Everything, that is, except the pile of modern clothing that lay near the bonfire.
Albert picked up something from the pile, a blouse of Jenna's, and dropped it on the fire. It was made of a very light fabric and the fire consumed it in seconds. Then Jenna chose Émile's cashmere sweater and soon that was ashes. We all took turns as the pile grew smaller and smaller. It gave me a very odd feeling, as though we ourselves were getting smaller and smaller, and as if the Earth, the globe on which we were standing, was getting bigger and bigger.
The last article was a checkered scarf. Albert picked it up with two fingers and looked around the circle of faces. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, and I remember wanting to take the scarf away from Albert and hide it somewhere safe. I didn't want to see it burn.
Albert said softly, "Goodbye," and the scarf fluttered down into the flames. When it was gone, when the last shred had changed into unrecognizable ash, I started to feel very queer. The sunshine seemed unnaturally bright, and the colors around me were very stark. I looked around at the others, but they were all focused on Albert, who seemed unusually radiant. They all seemed so happy and relaxed, but I felt very agitated. I wanted to run, to get away. But from what, and to where?
Jenna said, "He's looking a little pale, Sire."
"Yes, I noticed," said Albert. "Well, that can happen, as all of us know." He spread his hands in a paternal gesture and looked around the group. There was a ripple of laughter. "Listen, Jack," Albert said, "we all know how you're feeling. You're a thousand miles and a thousand years from everything you've been accustomed to all your life. It's all gone. We just burned it all."
I was feeling very queasy. I looked into his face. Was he crazy? Were they all crazy? No, it was the same kindly face, the same riveting blue eyes. I felt like crying. What was wrong with me? I looked into the faces of the others, and the warmth and symp
athy I saw there reassured me. Why was I acting like such a baby?
"Let's have something to eat, Émile. That's the best medicine."
"Yes, Sire."
"Now, Jack, you might be feeling quite disoriented for a few days or so, or you might snap out of this in five minutes. We just went back in time. We did! It doesn't require magic, or a time machine. It's very simple and we just did it. If you feel strange for a while, that's normal. All you can do now is breathe deeply, and let go. Just let go, Jack. Let go of all those useless things we never needed for our health and happiness and comfort and safety. Let go of the whole silly pointless poisonous modern era." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed it all. "And when you do let go, you'll be in for a very pleasant surprise, believe me!"
Émile set down two big baskets full of bread and meat and wines and cheeses and fruit. Then he passed around some square wooden plates and brass goblets, and we all fell to.
"Thanks, Albert," I said. "Sorry I . . ." But I had to stop because Jenna and Hélène were both clucking their tongues at me.
"Very bad manners to call his majesty by his first name, Jack," said Émile. "You must say my king or my liege or sire or your majesty. Any of those titles will do."
Hélène patted my shoulder. "You'll catch on. You can call all of us by our first names just like before, except for her ladyship," she said, indicating Jenna, who nodded and smiled. "You must call her my lady or your ladyship until her coronation. After that it's your majesty or my queen."
Down one side of my body I thought it was the most insane thing I'd ever heard. I was supposed to call Albert your majesty? I was supposed to call Jenna, the bare-assed horsewoman, my queen? Down the other side I just wanted to get it right. I wanted to know how to behave. I didn't want to sound stupid or foolish. In between the one side and the other there was a very uncomfortable place of confusion, reminiscent of the way I felt after my theater was burned; I wanted that feeling to go away. I wanted both feet on the ground again, and I didn't much care which side of a thousand years of history they came down on. So I gave them my best courtly bow and said, "Thank you, my friends. A thousand pardons, my liege."