The Festival of the Moon (Girls Wearing Black: Book Two)

by Baum, Spencer

  “We’re with the group in the Yellow Room,” Merv said.

  Flabby dude gave one nod of the head and led them to the back.

  “It appears you are the first ones to arrive,” he said as he opened the door to an empty, and exceedingly yellow, room. “Your server will be with you soon.”

  Art and his dad took adjacent seats at the empty table. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Art said, “Who else is coming?”

  “You’ll see,” was Merv’s response.

  Indeed he would. Less than a minute later, the door opened, and Flabby Dude led Kim and Galen Renwick inside.

  “What the hell are they doing here?” Art said.

  “Hi Art,” said Galen as he pulled out a chair for Kim. “Good to see you. We’ll get right to the point and try to keep this brief.”

  “Dad, what’s the deal? They’re not on the board, are they?”

  “I never told you this was a meeting of the board,” said Merv.

  “What? Yes you did. You said--”

  “I said we were going to discuss some business,” said Merv. “And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  Galen had a briefcase out on the table and was retrieving a file of papers. “Your father has hired my firm to do some legal work regarding your transition,” he said.

  “Him?” Art said. “You hired him? And what about her? What’s Kim doing here?”

  Kim smiled at Art. “Good evening,” she said quietly.

  “Art, as you know,” Galen said, “your mother left you a considerable sum of money and assets in the divorce settlement.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Art. “The court already approved it. Everybody signed off to put it in trust until I turned eighteen. Today is the day I get it.”

  “Not entirely,” said Galen.

  “What do you mean not entirely? I’ve sat in the room while a bunch of lawyers fought about this for months and was there when the judge made the decision. I saw my mom and dad sign the papers. It’s a done deal.”

  “I’m afraid you will learn as you grow older that nothing in the legal system is ever a done deal,” said Galen.

  Art turned to his dad. “Seriously? You’re gonna try to take this away from me? How greedy are you?”

  “It’s not about greed,” said Merv. “I’m doing this to protect you.”

  “To protect me! What does that mean?”

  Galen reached across the table and touched Art’s wrist. “Art, in this case it turns out that because TPM was incorporated in the state of New York, and because the terms of the divorce were settled in Maryland, the issue of your mother’s shares can be re-opened for discussion, and that’s precisely what we’ve done.”

  Art stood up from his chair. “You can’t do that!” he shouted. “I was there! I saw the judge and the lawyers discuss this very issue! The judge told them the difference in state law was immaterial.”

  “Yes, it is true that the legal case for any change to be made is a shaky one and we almost certainly will lose--”

  “If you know you’re going to lose, why are you doing this?” Art said.

  “We almost certainly will lose,” Galen repeated, “but nonetheless, I filed a motion on behalf of your father and yesterday evening the motion was granted. The case is now re-opened and will go to trial next month.”

  “What the fuck, Dad? You know you’re going to lose and still you want to try? What’s the matter with you? I thought we were past this. Our phone call last week…you sounded…I thought things had changed. I thought you wanted me on the board, just like Reggie. Me, my brother, and you. What’s the problem? It’s a family company. Why can’t I be part of the family?”

  “You’re going to be on the board,” said Merv. “This thing will go to trial and I will lose. You will get all the money that’s coming to you.”

  “Then why are you doing this?”

  Galen pulled another paper from the folder and pushed it across the table to Art.

  “As of today, all the assets that were to become yours on your eighteenth birthday are frozen,” said Galen.

  Art sat down again. Now he got it.

  He looked at the paper Galen had given him. It was a court order declaring Art’s trust was frozen until a new verdict was reached.

  “All this time,” Art said quietly. “You knew you were going to do this, didn’t you Dad? That’s why you were so nice to me on the phone.”

  “That was my idea,” said Kim. “I’m the one who wanted you to think everything was hunky-dory, or rather, I wanted Nicky to think everything was. Sorry, Art, but really, this is what you get for behaving like such an ass. I do want you to know…I’m willing to forgive you if you do the right thing once your money gets sorted out.”

  Art sat there and shook his head. A few minutes ago he was headed to the Date Auction as the richest kid in school. Now he was heading in with nothing at all.

  “I might as well not even go,” he muttered.

  “To the Date Auction?” said Kim. “Oh, you’re going, and you’re placing a bid.”

  She was speaking with total authority now. She was bossing him around, just like at the Masquerade. Art’s day in the sun came and went. Now he was back to being Kim’s bitch.

  The waiter came in with a rolling cart of breads, cheeses, and wine. They took a break from their conversation while food and drink was passed around. After the waiter left, Kim said, “I’ve seen enough. Daddy will fill you in on the rest.”

  “The rest? What more is there?” said Art.

  “Daddy and I have a very specific vision for the Date Auction,” Kim said. “And you’re going to help us make it happen. See you there, Art.”

  Chapter 36

  Nicky stood on the stage of the Penbrook Theater in downtown DC. She was at a rehearsal for the Date Auction. In a few hours, the theater would be packed with Thorndike students, parents, teachers, and notable guests, all having come to watch as the boys from the senior class bid jaw-dropping sums of money for the right to take out the girls wearing black.

  The wooden planks creaked every time Nicky shifted her feet. She was on the far right side of the stage; Kim Renwick was on the left. Standing between them were Samantha Kwan and Mary Torrance.

  Looking on from a seat in the second row was Florence Perry, the long-time stage manager at the Penbrook. Florence (or Ms. Perry, as she preferred to be called), had overseen the Date Auction for as long as anyone could remember. As she had done last year, and the year before, and the year before that, Ms. Perry called the girls wearing black to the Penbrook for a quick rehearsal before the event. For the past thirty minutes, she had instructed the girls on where to be before the auction, where to stand when they were on the stage, how to behave when the auction was happening, what to expect from the crowd, from the auction barker…

  “And when Byron declares you sold, you exit stage left,” Ms. Perry said. She had a harsh voice, like a chair being dragged across the floor. “I’ll meet you backstage and guide you to your car. Are there any questions?”

  Nicky and the other girls stood silent. How could they have any questions? The Date Auction was a storied event whose format and rules never changed.

  Rule Number 1 was that Renata selected the order in which the girls were auctioned off. Renata told the order to Ms. Perry a few minutes before curtain.

  Rule Number 2 was that only boys from the Thorndike senior class were allowed to bid. Of course, making a bid and supplying the money were two entirely different things, and it was expected that students would be bidding with other people’s cash. It was all part of the fun. Every boy in attendance on this night had a growing war chest of funds his parents and other relatives provided him. This, in turn, led to the ridiculous sight of seventeen-year-old guys standing up at auction and bidding hundreds of thousands, sometimes millions, for the right to take a girl on a date.

  Rule Number 3 was that every participant’s highest bid was a guaranteed donation, regardless of who won the
auction. If Vince bid a hundred grand on Nicky, and Marshall bid half a million, and Art bid a million plus, Art would win the auction and the right for a date, but all three boys would be on the hook to donate the amount of their highest bid. Not only did this rule raise money from more bidders, but it had the perverse effect of pushing serious bidders to the absolute max of their funds, all of them thinking that if they had to give up a pile of cash anyway, they might as well go for the win.

  Rule Number 4 was the date began immediately. As soon as the auctioneer, a man named Kent Byron, slammed his gavel down, the girl on stage and the winning bidder were scurried off to the back, where each girl had her limo waiting. From there, they were taken to the airport where a private jet was prepped and ready to take them anywhere they wanted to go.

  Rule Number 5 was that the date was a week long, and it better be good. Winners of the Date Auction were expected to show the girls the very best time that money could buy. Paris was by far the most popular destination. Every year at least one boy took his prize to France for a romantic weekend of cafes, river walks, and a kiss atop the Eiffel Tower. Sometimes more than one winner landed in Paris. One year, everyone went.

  Las Vegas was the second most popular pick. New York, Rio, Venice, Orlando, and Dubai were also frequent destinations. Some winners chose to use the private jet to go on many stops over the course of the week. One of last year’s winners was flown to an island in the Mediterranean, where a private yacht was waiting to take her on a cruise.

  “If there are no questions, you may exit stage left and be on your way,” Ms. Perry said. “Dressing rooms open tonight at seven. Curtain call is at eight.”

  Nicky drove back to Bethesda and found the house more sparsely populated than she had come to expect. Kendall, Dante, and Gia were present, all of them prepping for another night of waiting up for a vampire. But Patrick and Eve were yet to arrive.

  “Where are they?” Nicky asked Gia. “Seems like it’s getting late.”

  “I sent Patrick and Eve to New York to take care of the slaves Jill left outside her house,” Gia said. “One of the Network’s best hypnotists is there tonight. We’ll have him take a look at those two. Hopefully he can learn something interesting and then cut them loose from Melissa’s commands.”

  “What if Melissa’s commands can’t be undone?” Nicky asked.

  “This guy is always able to undo Melissa’s handiwork,” Gia said. “There’s only one kid from the Farm he was never able to crack.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Her, actually,” Gia said. “She turned out alright. Even though the hypnotist couldn’t see in her brain, we decided she was safe, and we made her a spy.”

  “Oh,” Nicky said, realizing they were talking about her. She thought back to the days when Gia found her in the swamp, and brought in a hypnotist to look in her brain.

  “If indeed you are unaffected, then Melissa was being lazy and inattentive to her work,” the hypnotist had said. “If she really wanted to get into your head, she would.”

  How wrong that hypnotist had been. Three times now Melissa had tried to open Nicky’s subconscious. Three times she had failed.

  At six-thirty, Phillip and Helena descended the staircase in their finest formalwear. As Nicky’s parents, they would be in attendance at the auction tonight.

  “Is there anything you need to do before we go?” Helena asked Nicky.

  She shook her head. “My outfit and my makeup are all in the dressing room. Tommy’s meeting me there.”

  “Then we’ll wish the rest of you good luck and be on our way,” Helena said.

  “Good luck to you as well,” said Gia. “Or maybe I should say break a leg, since you’ll be on the stage tonight.”

  “Very funny,” said Nicky.

  Knowing that a week would pass before she saw them again, Nicky gave long hugs goodbye to Gia, Kendall, and Dante.

  “I hate leaving you guys with the dirty work,” Nicky said. “I wish it was my job to do.”

  “Your job isn’t any easier,” Gia said with a grin. “Or maybe it is. Have fun in Paris or wherever.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Nicky. “I’ll be sure to send a postcard.”

  A few more goodbyes all around, and then the Bloom family climbed into their car and drove to Washington.

  Chapter 37

  Nicky roamed the basement of the Penbrook until she found the door with her name on it. Tommy was waiting for her inside.

  “Oh my word,” Nicky said. “What’s all this?”

  Tommy laughed. An explosion of flowers and plants all around him gave the impression of a man standing in a rain forest.

  “What? You don’t like it?” Tommy said.

  Nicky leaned over a bouquet of roses and took a deep breath.

  “It’s pretty, I suppose,” she said. “A bit excessive though.”

  “A bit like my Grandmother’s balcony is what it is,” Tommy said. “All that’s missing is a garden gnome.”

  Nicky looked at a blue hydrangea in a glass pot. There was a note on it that said A gift to you courtesy of Hauser Incorporated.

  “Hauser Incorporated?” Nicky whispered.

  “All the big names are represented,” said Tommy. “Car companies, drug companies, defense companies, grocery stores…everybody who might want you as a customer gave you something. Mostly flowers, but there’s other stuff too. Your makeup drawer is stocked with free samples. There’s a basket on the counter full of gift cards. I even found a box of chocolates courtesy of the Post Office.”

  “What am I supposed to do with it all?” Nicky said.

  “You could give the chocolates to me for starters,” said Tommy.

  “You should take all of it.”

  “I’ll come back after the auction and take the good stuff,” said Tommy. “Come on, let’s get you ready. We’ll do makeup first.”

  Forty minutes later, Nicky was standing in front of the mirror, feeling beautiful.

  “I look pretty good, don’t I?” she said.

  The open-backed evening gown they’d chosen two weeks earlier fit her like a glove. Tommy gave her dark, smoky eyes, and painted her lips a deep shade of red. The conservative braided necklace she’d tried on at the house was gone, Tommy having arranged a loan of a black diamond choker from Tiffany & Co.

  “This is the look you need,” Tommy said. “I think they’ll be talking about you tomorrow.”

  “I love it,” Nicky said. “Thank you.”

  Tommy kissed Nicky’s cheek and wished her luck. With fifteen minutes until curtain, he left Nicky alone with her thoughts. As she stood in front of the mirror, admiring Tommy’s handiwork, she saw herself as a little girl looking back from a silver sphere. The picture was so clear in her mind she wondered if she had drifted off to sleep somehow and entered the dream. But then the door opened behind her and a shadow came inside, bringing a powerful chill as it moved, and she understood.

  She turned away from the mirror and found Sergio standing in front of her.

  “What are you doing here?” she said.

  “You have been in my mind,” Sergio said. “Have I been in yours?”

  It was a strange way to phrase it, ‘in my mind,’ but Nicky understood. Her body knew the correct answer even before the rest of her did.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Tell me,” said Sergio.

  He was so much more beautiful than the version in her dream. Looking at him now, at the depth in his eyes, the subtleties of his skin, she realized that the Sergio of her dreams was only an approximation. She had never seen his true face until now. When she danced with him at Homecoming, a black mask was stretched across his eyes.

  But now she saw him in high definition clarity. The mix of shadow and blur that had been Sergio’s face in her dream was fixed, the flow from his chin to his hairline making Nicky feel more complete for having seen it.

  “You’ve been in my dreams,” Nicky said.

  “Your dreams, or your dre
am?”

  His voice was a cool breeze. It reminded Nicky to be afraid. She was in the room with a vampire, a much more powerful vampire than Melissa Mayhew. His strength commanded her respect.

  And her fascination. Yes, she was scared to be near him, but she was also excited.

  “My dream,” Nicky corrected. “The same dream. Over and over.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “It’s a scene from my childhood,” Nicky said.

  “A mountain forest,” said Sergio. “A brick building. A silver sculpture.”

  “Yes!” said Nicky. “How did you know?”

  “I saw it all when we danced,” said Sergio.

  “But how? You said my mind was closed to you.”

  “I said you were keeping me out. I sought to plant a specific message. I had a task to do. It is my job to dance with the girls wearing black and command them to see the contest through to the end, even if they lose, but with you I wasn’t able to do it. The part of your brain where such suggestions are placed repelled me. I saw your reflection in the silver sculpture instead.”

  “Is it real?” said Nicky. “Am I remembering a real place?”

  “The scene of your memory is in the Italian Alps. You are standing in front of a building I know quite well. Right now it belongs to the Ventigen Corporation. In years past, it has had other owners.”

  “What am I doing there?”

  “Exactly what you see,” said Sergio. “You are gazing into your own reflection.”

  “But what about my mother?”

  “You mean the woman behind the glass?”

  “Yes, that woman is my mother, isn’t she?”

  “I do not know who she is. That part of the scene isn’t real. You’ve attached it to the memory from elsewhere in your mind.”

  “But what does it mean?”

  “What does anything mean?” said Sergio. “Meaning is a construct we add to our memories. Only you know what it means. I know what I saw, and what I saw is a memory so painful that your brain has disallowed it. I saw a little girl experiencing trauma the likes of which could destroy her mind, but I also saw a mind strong enough to resist it. The reason you are seeing this memory, and the reason I am associated with it, is because I am the one who shook it loose. I went looking deep in your mind, deeper than your conscious thoughts. That scene was as far as you allowed me to go.”