Family Reunion

by Nicholas Sarazen

  "How do I look, Stephanie?" Paula asked.

  Stephanie winked at her. "You'll straighten out their struts. Come on, let's go inside." She could only imagine how Paula felt. It had been so long ago, and yet there was a bond among these people, a bond so strong they would interrupt their lives to come back. To remember.

  Brad and Marney were sitting at the padded black leather bar, chatting with Hal, when Stephanie and Paula walked in. Stephanie led her over to them.

  "Hi," Marney said.

  "Hi," Paula replied. She looked at Stephanie.

  "Oh, of course," Stephanie said. "You probably don't recognize each other. Paula, this is Brad and Marney Lentz, and this is my editor, Hal Blancett. This is Paula Fitch." Stephanie waited for a reaction, but there was only awkward silence.

  "Which one was in The Family?" Paula finally asked, obviously a little embarrassed.

  "Marney," Stephanie said. "Maybe you don't remember her real name. What was your nickname in The Family, Marney?"

  "I didn't have one."

  "Oh. Well does Paula look familiar to you?"

  Marney shook her head. "Sorry. When were you with The Family, Paula?"

  "The first part of '70, until March, I think."

  Marney looked at Stephanie. "That explains it. I didn't get there until April of '70."

  Stephanie smiled. "You know, that's the one thing I worried about, that not everyone had lived with The Family at the same time. I hope you all don't turn out to be total strangers to each other."

  "Well even if they are," Hal broke in, "they won't be by Sunday. Steph, you need to get back to the airport. I can take care of getting these people acquainted. Paula, what can I get you to drink? I've got anything you want."

  "One of those wine coolers would be fine."

  "Coming right up. We're going to have a great time this weekend. Did you see the pool on your way in? We have a tennis court, a volleyball court, a billiard table, ping pong, video games, VCR and movies--you name it, we've got it. Plus all you can eat and drink. You know--"

  "Rosalee!"

  Rosalee Hartun looked over at the couple who had just walked in with Stephanie. She seemed to study the woman for a moment, then her eyes widened and she started squealing. "Angie! Angie!" The two old friends rushed across the room and embraced.

  By ten o'clock everyone was there but Harper Leggett. As guests trickled in Stephanie introduced them to the others. Hal had them sign statements releasing the Tribune from any legal liability and went over a few rules designed to ensure everyone's right to privacy. Stephanie made one additional request: for the moment, they were not to talk about their careers or the interviews in the series.

  "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" Dennis King asked as he walked up to Paula Fitch.

  She raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

  "Dennis, Aquarius. What's your sign? Do you come here often?"

  Paula laughed. "My, but you're smooth. Buy me a drink, sailor?"

  Gerry Meharis stood at the bar and bummed another cigarette from Hal. He had been there less than an hour, and already Hal was getting him his third double scotch and soda. "You know, Blancett, I bet I spend more money in a month than most of these people make in a year."

  "Is that so?" Hal pushed the tip jar closer to Gerry.

  Dirk Yates had been playing a video game by himself when Cindy came in from the patio through the sliding glass doors. She walked over to watch. On the screen little paratroopers dropped from the sky as enemy soldiers fired at them from the ground.

  "Dirk, it's great to see you again," she said. He didn't turn around. Cindy nodded at the screen. "Who's winning the war?"

  "Nobody wins."

  Rosalee and Angela were still together, sitting on the U-shaped sectional in the sunken lounge area. Treva Billingsley soon joined them. Mike D'Angelo and Barbara Moran's husband Ron discovered they were both long-suffering Chicago Cubs fans. Barbara went around the room, mixing with everyone. Stephanie's fear that they might all be strangers to one another proved unfounded. Most of them knew or had heard of the others, and all of them remembered at least someone.

  Dennis moved closer to Paula on the couch. "Let me take you away from all of this."

  "But I'm having fun," she replied.

  "Then let me keep you here."

  Hal fixed Gerry another drink, one that had a lot more soda and a lot less scotch.

  Dirk showed Cindy the trick to mastering Battlefield.

  Everyone stopped talking at the sound of the voice that boomed, "Stop de sho' and clear de flo', de man of de hour's comin' tru de do'!"

  Harper Leggett had arrived.

  It was after midnight and all the anxieties had been swept away by good food, good drink, and good memories. Everyone grabbed a throw pillow and sat in a big circle on the floor of the sunken lounge.

  "I made up a game that might be fun," Stephanie said to the group. "That's why I didn't want you to talk about the interviews or what you're doing now. We ran ten interviews in the Trib. Let's see if you can match the interview with the person. Does anyone object?"

  "That sounds fun to me," Treva said. "I'll play."

  "Me, too."

  Other voices added approval.

  "Let's start with the attorney," Mike D'Angelo suggested.

  "It's probably not you, then, if you want to start with that one," Angela said.

  "I'll bet it is him. He's just trying to throw us off."

  "The paper said it was a man. That narrows it down to Dennis, Harper, Dirk, Gerry, or Mike."

  "Brilliant, Cindy."

  "I'll bet it's Dennis."

  "Yeah, Dennis."

  There was a vote, and it was almost unanimous for Dennis.

  "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Dennis said in a poor Perry Mason imitation, "I am innocent of all charges."

  "Okay, it's Mike."

  "Not me."

  "Dirk?"

  "I know it's not Gerry or Harper."

  "I give."

  "Me, too."

  "All right, will the real lawyer please stand up?"

  They all looked at each other but no one moved. Then, one of them rose.

  "Harper? You? You're an attorney?"

  Harper Leggett smiled and nodded. "With Finch, Starling, and Thrush, Attorneys-at-Law. Three ambulances, no waiting."

  "Aw, come on. He's kidding."

  "He's not serious, is he Stephanie?"

  Stephanie shook her head and smiled. "Sorry to overrule you, Harper. The attorney I interviewed for the series is not here tonight."

  Harper covered his head as several pillows came flying his way.

  "Who writes the kids' books?"

  "Yeah, who was that?"

  "Barbara. No, wait, Marney."

  "No, it's Rosalee. It has to be Rosalee."

  "Wrong," said Rosalee, "But I know who it is and I'm not telling."

  "Then how about Angela? She's being awfully quiet over there."

  "You're right. It has to be her."

  Angela Deerfield stood up. She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. In a squeaky, child-like voice she recited, "Once upon a time there was Dick and Jane and yes, Angela..." Amid the laughter she said, in her normal voice, "You got me."

  "Who's next?"

  "The pet shops. Who owns all those pet shops?"

  "Who's been scratching the most?"

  "Very funny, Harper."

  "It might be Treva."

  "Or Paula. Or Cindy."

  "Whoever it is, she's made a lot of chow."

  Rosalee groaned. "Harper, they're getting worse."

  "I'll bet it's Cindy. She looks like an animal lover."

  "Aren't there laws against bestiality?"

  "How about it, Cindy? Are you the one?"

  "Nope."

  "I give. Who is it?"

  No one said anything. Again, Harper stood up. "Okay, this time it's really me."

  Aga
in the pillows flew toward Harper.

  It had been a long day and a longer evening, and people were getting tired. It was after three o'clock when they divided up and went to bed, the eight men in two of the cabins and the eight women in the other two. Hal and Stephanie slept on cots in the party house. She had wondered if the spouses who came along would join in. It turned out they were having as much fun as everyone else. No one had talked much about Mother Earth or the other killers, and Stephanie found that a little surprising. Over the course of the evening, with all the fun and laughter, she had finally managed to get her mind off Richard William Drew. She went to sleep with a smile on her face, happy with the way everything had gone.

  Saturday Morning

  Stephanie had never fixed breakfast for eighteen before. Dinner on Friday had been easy because Hal had picked up everything they needed from a caterer. This morning Hal made the toast and poured juice while Stephanie fixed eggs four different ways and kept an eye on the sausage and bacon.

  Hal put two large tables together to make enough room for the guests. Except for Stephanie, Hal, and Cindy, everyone was still in robes and slippers. Dennis was sitting next to Paula. There wasn't much conversation at first. It was as though the rapport established the night before was no longer there when they woke up this morning.

  Gerry took a sip of orange juice and made a sour face. "Hey, this is too strong. Blancett, you got any vodka around here?"

  "Gerry, my friend," Harper said, "I think they ought to give you an alcohol test to see if you've got any blood in it."

  Cindy joined in. "Harper, are you ever serious?"

  "Only when I'm in the studio, my dear."

  "Pass the toast, Mike."

  "Pass it or propose one?"

  "What's it like to actually fly an airplane and be up there all by yourself, Paula?" Treva asked. "I would be scared to death."

  "She's not by herself. God is her co-pilot."

  "Maybe, but The Three Stooges are the air traffic controllers."

  "There's nothing to it, Treva," Paula replied. "I'll take you up sometime."

  "Not without a parachute."

  "Hey, Treva," Gerry broke in. "I can get you higher than that and you won't even have to leave the ground."

  "You still a candy man, Gerry?"

  "No, actually I'm a narc, but I've got to have a cover."

  "These grapes seem to be in quite a jam."

  "It's too early, Harper."

  "Harper, what's it like being in the music business?" Barbara asked. "Do you get to meet lots of famous people?"

  "Darling," Harper replied, "they get to meet me."

  "No, come on. What's it like?"

  "Do you really want to know?" he asked. When she nodded, he continued. "I can only tell you what it was like for Harper Leggett." He stirred his coffee and put down his spoon. "When I was younger I thought it was all fun and games, or I tried to make it that way. When I was with The Undead we had dreams of making it to the top. Our first single hit Billboard with a bullet and man, we thought we were on our way. We might have made it, too, if we hadn't screwed up. We were just a bunch of crazy young dudes who had never really had anything. Suddenly you're a god. You've got women, cars, blow--whatever you want. It's amazing how greedy you can get. The band had always gotten along, but we started having terrible fights. Everyone wanted to do it his own way, and we got away from doing what had always worked for us. I was married then, and we had just had a kid. I was running around, but for some reason she put up with it. Then I started puttin' the spoon up my nose. That she wasn't too thrilled about. I couldn't see what it was doing to me. I ended up losing her, my kid...almost my life. I had to get out of L.A. because every other person in the industry out here was zonked on something. I moved to Memphis. It took a long time, but I finally got it together. I met some good people who helped me get back into the business, and here I am. I've worked really hard the last few years. I'm not on top yet, but I will be, and this time I'll be straight. The important thing is that I'm no longer on the bottom."

  No one spoke. They had just seen and heard a side of Harper Leggett they never knew existed, and everyone seemed touched by his story. All except one.

  "Jesus Christ, that sounded like a freaking soap opera. I think I'm gonna cry...or puke."

  "Knock it off, Gerry."

  After breakfast Stephanie and Hal cleaned up and put things away. The Morans and the Deerfields played euchre. Dirk watched Mike and Dennis shoot pool. The others wandered about and talked. Stephanie thought she heard someone mention Xeno's name, but she wasn't sure.

  Saturday Afternoon

  After lunch everyone joined in a few games of volleyball, then adjourned to the pool. Paula went back inside to change and came back out in a white string bikini.

  "Whoa! I'm in love. This time I really mean it," Dennis said as he watched her step into the pool.

  Mike nudged Dennis' elbow. "You'd better be careful, buddy, or you might end up sunburning that tongue of yours."

  Dirk didn't take off his shirt.

  Harper appointed himself keeper of the boom-box and the volume was under his control. He set the dial on a rock station that played a lot of album cuts and heavy metal. No one noticed when he slipped into the house to make a phone call, but everyone went crazy when he played a frenzied air bass a few minutes later to the blaring strains of Kill It Before It Dies.

  "Look at Gerry," Rosalee whispered to Angela and her husband. "He looks like he's already embalmed."

  "He must have a sponge for a liver," Angela said.

  Mike was having a good time watching Dennis watch Paula, who was still in the pool.

  "Hey, Dennis, why don't you go teach her your version of the breast stroke."

  Cindy wore a terry cloth beach jacket over her one-piece blue bathing suit. She was sitting at a table under a sun umbrella talking with Mike's wife and the Lentzes. Gerry was rubbing suntan oil on Treva's shoulders. Beside them were four empty tumblers.

  Stephanie didn't ask Hal, but she thought he seemed a little bored, as though he expected more out of a reunion of Mother Earth's Family. The truth was, it just as easily could have been a high school class reunion.

  Saturday Night

  During the late afternoon, when everyone else was out by the pool, Stephanie and Hal hung a strobe light, a black light, and several fluorescent posters, including ones of The Doors and Janis Joplin. It was starting to get dark, and Stephanie turned on the lights.

  At last the party had become a party. People were laughing, dancing, and drinking. Hal was behind the bar mixing drinks and opening beer cans. Stephanie refilled baskets with potato chips and pretzels and brought out another tray of nachos. She lit several sticks of patchouli incense and Hal turned up the stereo.

  Gerry was again drinking doubles.

  Are You Experienced? by Jimi Hendrix.

  In a dim corner of the room Dennis was adjusting Paula's lumbar vertebrae. She didn't seem to mind.

  "Chugging contest!" Harper bellowed out. "Gather 'round, brothers and sisters. Mike the Tyke here thinks he can outchug ol' funnel-face Leggett." Harper put his five-dollar bill on top of the one Mike had laid down.

  "If I'm thinkin', I'm drinkin'. Bud Lights at three paces." Mike picked up two cans from the bar and held them out. "Choose your weapon, Funnel-Face."

  Harper took the can from Mike's left hand. He closed an eye and sighted along the top rim from several different angles. "This one will do just fine."

  Mike raised his can to his lips. "I'll say go."

  "No way," Harper protested. "Barkeep, you give us the green light."

  "Okay," Hal said. "Spuds be with you both. On your mark...get set...go!"

  Mike had half the can downed when Harper tore off his bushy red wig. Mike choked and showered Harper with a foamy spray of beer.

  "Cheat! You cheated!"

  Harper finished the rest of the beer in his can and picked up the two fives on the bar. "All's fair in chuggin' and huggin', my
friend."

  Dirk smiled and shook his head.

  Barbara had everyone get a fresh drink and sit in a circle. "I've got a great idea for a game," she said. "Each person has to say a word or phrase from the '60s within five seconds. If you can't think of anything or if you repeat an answer, you have to take a drink. I'll start it off. Love beads."

  "Granny glasses."

  "Woodstock."

  "Kick out the jams."

  "Maltese cross."

  "Earth Day."

  It was Gerry's turn. "It's coming to me," he slurred, "just give me a second."

  "Time's up. Take a drink."

  "If you insist." Gerry flashed a grin and gulped his drink. He got up to go get a refill.

  "I think someone just cheated. Tie-dye."

  "Good one, good one. You know, I still have a few old tie-dyed t-shirts. Let's see, how about freak out?"

  "Acid."

  White Rabbit, by The Jefferson Airplane.

  "Far out."

  It was Cindy's turn. She pounded her fists on her knees. "I can't think. I just had one and now I lost it."

  "Time's up. Drink."

  "My turn. How about flower power?"

  "Great. Uh, psychedelic."

  "Make love, not war."

  "Tune on, turn in, and drop out. Or something like that."

  Legend Of A Mind, by The Moody Blues.

  "Water buffaloes."

  "We know where your head's at. Head shop."

  "Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test."

  "The Strawberry Statement."

  "Take a drink, Barbara. You made that up."

  "I don't think she did. Wasn't that a book about the riots at Columbia?"

  "Give it to her. Free love."

  "Pigs."

  "Choppers."

  "Easy Rider."

  Born To Be Wild, by Steppenwolf.

  "Orange sunshine."

  "Bad trip."

  "Look at us now. Anymore a bad trip is a little turbulence on a 747. How about sit-in?"