From Riches to Rags

by Mairsile Leabhair

  I’d been in limos before, many times, so it was like coming home again when I slid across the leather seat to make room for Melinda to get in. But I don’t recall any of those limo rides having tea and sodas on ice.

  “Can I offer you a beverage?” She asked and I laughed and nodded my head.

  “A diet soda would be nice, thank you.”

  “One diet soda coming up. There are some snacks over there if you’re interested?”

  She handed me the drink and I replied, “No, thanks, this will be enough for now. So, where are we going?”

  “To the airport.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. It’s the quickest way to get to where we’re going.”

  “And where is that, pray tell?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  She had a big sheepish grin on her face and I suddenly became worried.

  “Melinda, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’d rather not go to Vegas.” I kept my reasons to myself, because I was too embarrassed to tell her that I woke up in a casino there, not knowing how I got there.

  “You don’t have to worry; we’re not going to Vegas. But that was a good try though.”

  “And I really don’t think now is the best time to meet your parents.” I really did not want to meet her parents, at least not until I got some decent clothes to wear.

  “Don’t worry, you won’t see my parents because I don’t think any time is a good time to meet them.

  We pulled onto the tarmac at the private airport and stopped in front of a corporate owned jet. Blackstone was printed in bold black letters above the windows.

  “Your family has their own jet too?”

  She pointed at the tail of the plane where the word Blackie was spelled out vertically. Damn! I did not see that coming and really, I probably should have. I forget sometimes that she’s a billionairess.

  I walked inside to a palace on wheels. My father’s jet was similar, but not as lavish. A set of oversized leather recliners at the front, another set of seats with a walnut table between them and a vase of fresh cut blue daisy’s on it, a blue strip carpet, and a floor lamp resembling the Tiffany lamp in Norma’s apartment.

  We buckled up in the front seats and prepared for departure. The take off, which I have always hated, was smooth as silk for a change.

  “Want to watch a movie?”

  Melinda didn’t wait for my answer, she got up and turned on the wall to wall monitor screen and we moved to the seats with the table between them. The flight attendant brought out crackers and cheese and fruits of every kind. Then she came back with soda drinks and a bucket of fresh popped popcorn.

  “What’s the movie, Melinda?”

  “Invaders from Pluto.”

  “Oh, um, sure, that sounds good.” I lied through my teeth.

  She looked at me like I had forgotten something. The grin on her face told me that I had.

  The title zoomed in until it filled the screen, and then disappeared. Then the word starring zoomed in and I shouted, “That’s Norma!”

  “Ah, now you remember, right?”

  “Yes, how cool is that. Does Norma know? Oh, Melinda, she doesn’t have a copy, you have to give it to her.”

  “Who do you think I borrowed it from?”

  “That’s strange. She told me she didn’t have a copy.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that she had told you.”

  Melinda looked away and I waited for her to tell me, but she changed the subject. “Did you know that our neighbor has starred in over twenty movies and that she even won an academy award for supporting actress?”

  “Oh my gosh. No, she never told me that.”

  “She didn’t tell me either. The guy at the book store where I—“

  “Busted. Fess up, the book store where you bought this movie.”

  “Okay, you caught me. Anyway, he showed me her profile on the internet.”

  “All of that and now she lives in that derelict of a building. How could she have come to that fate, do you think?”

  “We may never know for sure, but she herself has told us about the poor choices she’s made. I guess it caught up with her.”

  Chris yawned and leaned back in the seat.

  “It’s going to take a little while to get to our destination so if you’d rather get some sleep, I’m sure Norma wouldn’t mind.”

  “I’d like to watch the movie, but I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep during it.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Melinda, you got that tape for Norma, didn’t you?”

  She nodded her head and tossed some popcorn in the air, catching it in her mouth.

  “Okay, I’ll let it go. It was really sweet of you to do that for her.”

  “Chris,” she stopped and turned to me, “I’m not a bad person once you get to know me, and my money isn’t evil, it’s just money. It has no soul.”

  I acknowledge what she was trying to say, and I hoped to take it up a level for her, “Melinda, how did you feel when you gave Norma that tape?”

  “Well, I guess I was happy for her. She became that young movie star again, full of energy and zest for life. We sat down and watched the movie and it was really not that bad, considering when it was made.”

  “Oh, I wish I could have been there, I would have loved to see her watch this.”

  “I’m sorry, I should have waited.”

  “No, that’s okay. That was your moment with her, and I’m glad you had it.”

  “It did kind of fill me up.”

  “Fill you up? Oh, you mean like with that rush of satisfaction a person gets when they’ve done a good thing for no other reason than to make someone feel like a movie star again?”

  “Yes, exactly. I’d like to feel that again.”

  And there it was, the exact feeling I was hoping she’d feel. You can’t get that feeling while drinking booze or chewing out a waitress.

  “There’s no reason why you can’t. That’s my biggest regret. I could have done so much more with what I had. Instead, I squandered it away. Now I have nothing to show for it and yet I can find ways to help others.”

  “Like when you gave your kitten to Norma?”

  “Yes, it was the hardest thing to do, but it was the right thing. Her need was greater. And look what good came out of it. Norma has a kitten to love, plus she made two new friends, you and me, and I have my little Blackie back and you gave her a gift of her youth with this movie.”

  “When you think about it, that’s kind of amazing really, the way a simple act of kindness mushroomed into all of those things.”

  “When you think about it, there’s so much more we could do, to give back, and keep that domino effect going.”

  *

  When I came back from using the lavatory, Chris was asleep. I got an afghan down from the closet and covered her with it, and then I set down and watched the movie for a little bit, but it wasn’t long before I was thinking about what Chris had said, that her biggest regret was not having done more with what she had and she didn’t realize that until she had nothing. Is that why she’s so gung ho to have me take the challenge, to experience what she had? I think I get it now. She wants me to see it from both sides and then chose. But does that mean I stop being who I am, stop being Blackie?

  I looked over at her, now curled up in the blanket, and I wondered, who would she have turned out to be if she hadn’t lost everything? And how did she come to lose it all? When she looked at her parent’s house I could tell the pain at not being able to go inside and see them cut deep in her soul. They are at the heart of her troubles, but I don’t think they are the sole reason for them.

  Then I had an idea that struck like lightening. I would go see them, introduce myself as Chris’s friend and impress them, and then maybe convince them that their daughter needs them – or maybe I should just keep my nose out of her business until she asks for my help.

  I must have dosed off because before I knew
it, we were there.

  “Chris, Chris wake up.” I nudged her awake and opened the shade over the window. “Look we’re here.”

  “Where? Where is here?”

  She peered out the window and then looked at me and said, “That’s the Golden Gate Bridge.”

  “That’s right,” I said with a grin.

  “That’s where we’re going, to San Francesco?”

  “Yes ma’am. Have you ever been here?”

  “No, but I always wanted to. I haven’t really been very far out of Memphis, to tell you the truth, so this is a real treat. Do you own a house here too, Melinda?”

  “No, I only have the condo in Vegas. My parents have several homes, but my favorite one is here in The City, home to the best Yorkshire pudding ever made. I only wish we had time for me to give you a proper tour.”

  Chris looked at the clock on the table, and then at her watch and said, “Well, we just gained an extra two hours, would that help?”

  I smiled at her eagerness. “This isn’t a pleasure trip, remember. I want to show you what I’m giving up, so you will understand when I whine about that tiny bathroom. I mean, I know you know, but not the scope in which you think you know… uh… you know?”

  She laughed and nodded her head. “It’s okay, Melinda, I knew what you meant and would like to see what you have to show me. But just keep in mind that you have a safety net. When the thirty days is over with, it will all still be waiting for you. Have you considered how lucky you are to have this chance to see both sides of the street? People are usually forced into poverty against their will, and very few are lucky enough to escape it. You will be one of those lucky few.”

  “Well, I guess when you put it that way.”

  We landed at the airport and I had my Ferrari convertible waiting. I thought she might be impressed with the fiery red color, the spoke wheels and the tan leather seats, but she wasn’t. She asked me if I ever bought American but didn’t wait around for my answer. In fact, I have several American made beauties like the Corvette Z06 Convertible, one in blue and one in red, and the Dodge Viper SRT, also in blue and red.

  I drove her the long way around and showed her as much as I could in the dark. I drove her down Lombard Street, which made her laugh with all its hairpin curves and beautiful flowers, and then I drove us down Filbert Street. Knowing that the street would be practically empty at four A.M., I gained speed quickly, praying all the while that a car didn’t pop out of one of the intersections, the only flat areas on the hill. Gaining speed, I gunned it at the second intersection, yelling at Chris to hang on, then the Ferrari went airborne. Long after the tires bounced back to the ground, Chris was squealing. I had never heard such squealing before, not even during sex. After I slowed the car down she said that was fun and asked if we could go again. Of course, we went again.

  And then I drove us over the Golden Gate Bridge, where even in the dark, it was a beautiful sight to see. Luckily, I timed it just right so that when we got to Marin Headlands on the other side, we could watch the sun rise over the bridge. It had been so long since I stood there, watching the sun rise over the horizon, glinting off of the water and casting soft shadows across the bridge. I looked at Chris who was staring in awe at the beautiful sight, the wind catching her hair up, the sun’s rays sparkling in her eyes. For a fleeting moment I lost myself in possibilities that I knew would never happen.

  Finally I drove us over to billionaire’s row where my parent’s house sat on top of a hill overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge and the bay below.

  “Oh my God. This is your house, Melinda?”

  “Yes, it’s one of the smaller ones.”

  “It’s a freakin castle!”

  “Come on, let me show you around.” We walked in through the front door so she could see the main entrance. When I opened the door, the staff was lined up as if ready for inspection. They all welcomed me home and I greeted them by name, introducing them to Chris and vice-versa. There were ten of them, from the head butler down to the chamber maid and as soon as the introductions were done, they scurried away to different parts of the house.

  The house was three stories, with a half floor at the very top. That was my room. But I wanted to save that tour for last. I showed Chris the outside garden first, with its heated pool, array of colorful fall flowers, shrubs and trees, and a covered basketball slash tennis court. Then I showed her the inside garden with its hot tub, surrounded by fresh cut flowers. Next I showed her the wine cellar with over two thousand bottles of Blackstone vintage wine. From the cellar I brought her back up to the library, explaining that I would sit in the bay window for hours, reading a swashbuckling adventure while ships past below me in the bay. I pointed towards the ballroom, at the very end of the house, past the formal dining room and living room. I told her there wasn’t much to see in there right now, so we continued our tour up to the second floor.

  The second floor is where my parents bedrooms are, three bedrooms, one each and one together, their offices and another surround sound theater. I explained that the half floor on the fourth floor was where the staff lives, so we’d be skipping that one, but the third floor was really what I wanted her to see.

  So, I took her up to the third floor, where I lived. At one end of the floor was my own recreation room with pool table, table tennis, foosball, and air hockey, with several pinball machines lining the walls. There was also a video game center with a jumbotron monitor and several specially made game recliners in front of it. I explained with a grin that this room was why the San Francisco house was my favorite. At the other end of the room was an ice cream parlor slash soda fountain where the soda jerk greeted us with his scoop held high and asked Chris what her favorite ice cream was. She asked if he had chocolate cherry fudge and he nodded, scooping up a large ball of it into a waffle cone. I had a scoop of strawberry champagne. Then we walked down the long hallway to my bedroom.

  I thought she was going to drop her ice cream when I opened the door and showed her in. My bedroom took up half of the third floor with its four poster custom sized bed at the far end of the room, a surround sound theater complete with video game set up in another corner, a pool table on one end and a five computer station at the other.

  She looked around several times, and then walked over to the expansive bay window overlooking the peninsula. She turned to me and said, “Wow.”

  “Yeah, it’s not much, but its home.”

  She looked at me incredulously and then realized I was joking.

  “My parent’s entire mansion would fit in this one room alone.”

  I heard someone clear their throat behind me and I turned to find the Butler in the doorway.

  “Pardon the intrusion, Miss Blackie, but where would you like your breakfast served?”

  “Chris?”

  “Oh, um, the inside garden would be nice don’t you think?”

  “There you have it, Jeeves, the inside garden, if you please.”

  He smiled and said jovially, “I always aim to please you, Miss Blackie.”

  When we were alone again Chris shook her head and asked, “Is his name really Jeeves, the butler?”

  “No, it’s Charles, but when he calls me Miss Blackie, which I hate, then I call him Jeeves, which he hates. We’ve had a love—hate relationship for as long as I’ve known him.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet in a malevolent sort of way.”

  “Oh, to rough. Come on, you, let’s go have breakfast.”

  Time to Face the Music — Meg Bumgartner and Carl and Felicia Livingston

  Mr. Livingston greeted me at the door to his mansion with an angry question, “What do you mean you don’t know where she’s at, Ms. Bumgartner? She couldn’t have gotten too far because she can’t afford it.”

  I had been summoned by Mr. Livingston himself, to report in person, and explain how I lost Chris, and what was I doing to find her. I started from where I had left off the last time I reported in person, the integration of her new friend, Blackie
Blackstone, who had probably unintentionally blown my cover. At least it was only the no contact portion of my cover. The part that I was working for him and conducting surveillance on her was still a secret.

  I left out a few things like how I wanted to puke when I walked into my wife’s office and saw Chris standing there. I don’t think I’ve ever been as shocked or as pissed as I was at that moment. But then, once I got over the shock, I was so happy to see my adopted kid sister in person again. God I feel so guilty tricking her like this. I suppose I should be grateful to Blackie for bringing us together ahead of schedule, because I was exhausted from fighting off the urge to go to her and help her out. I had been close to reaching out to her before, like when she was unconscious in the gutter with that drunk. I stood at the corner of that alley all night to make sure she was safe. I had to do something similar like that several times, until she finally sobered up and got a job.

  And now I needed to tell them the part that would probably get me fired, the part that I had deliberately left out when they interviewed me.

  “Uh, Chris knows me from when you all lived in Collierville. My family lived next door to you, and my little sister, Bonnie, was Chrissie’s, I mean Chris’s best friend until you moved away.”

  Mrs. Livingston looked at me curiously, “Your mother and I are still the best friends, Margaret, that’s why when your name was suggested, I called your mother to ask her opinion. She asked me if there could be anyone more capable of protecting Chris as if she were family, than you were. You have proven her right, many times over. Thank you.”

  “You talked with my mom? She never told me.”

  “No, I shouldn’t imagine she would have.” Mr. Livingston said, “Meg, sometimes parents have to make the really hard choices in order to save their child. Your sister was killed by someone very much like what Chris had become and when she almost killed that man, leaving him wheelchair bound, we had no choice left. We hoped she would learn a lesson and stop drinking. I’ll admit, I was holding my breath there for a while, but she has done it and I couldn’t be prouder of her.”