From da Big Island

by Bill Hutchinson

  “Starts at seven.” Ruth responded. Sarah removed her arm and turned to leave. Ruth continued, “I have the chopsticks ready, so don’t forget the sushi.”

  “Big Apple or Mr. Okomoto Sushi?”

  Number 3 Beekman Place

  Ruth’s movie room resembled a 1930’s style theater with red curtains flanking a large projection screen. Zach, Ruth’s husband, and Paul, Sarah’s husband, were seated together in an overstuffed leather love seat eating popcorn. Next to them in another love seat were Ruth and Sarah. Mrs. Wiggins, Ruth’s portly elderly black cat given to her years ago and named by Carol Burnett, was curled up on Ruth’s lap. In front of them are empty Mr. Okomoto Sushi containers and freshly prepared Manhattans.

  “Manhattan’s, sushi, popcorn, and Charlie Chan... cheers!” Zach said as they all toasted. He reached for the remote and pressed the button. On the screen, Charlie Chan and the Black Camel started, the credits rolled by, followed by a scene of surfers surfing in the foreground and Diamond Head in the background. A few moments later was a shot of 1930’s Waikiki Beach from the surfer’s point of view with the only two multistory hotels; the Royal Hawaiian and the Halekulani.

  Paul whispered to Zach, “that reminds me...”

  “Shhh...” Sarah said quietly.

  Paul ignored Sarah and continued only in a lower voice, “that reminds me, Charlie liked to have his Manhattan’s at the Halekulani House Without a Key Bar under the kiawe tree.”

  “House Without a Key? Kiawe tree?” Zach responded.

  Ruth and Sarah gave the guys disapproving looks. Ruth unable to concentrate on the movie and asked, “Can’t you guys let us enjoy the movie?”

  Zach grabbed the remote, pausing the movie.

  “What are you doing?” Ruth protested.

  “Paul was saying something about Charlie and the Hall-le-ku-lani House Without a Key Bar ...”

  “Oh, that!” Sarah retorts. “It’s nothing. The real Charlie Chan hung out at the Halekulani Hotel and its House Without a Key Bar, it is as simple as that.”

  “Honey, I thought you like your tropical drinks and listening to the live Hawaiian music under the kiawe tree at sunset.” Paul exclaimed.

  “I do, darling, it’s a fantastic hotel, but we’re here to watch a movie, not talk about Hawaii.” Sarah responded.

  Zach pressed the button on the remote and the movie continued. The girls were content and smiled.

  “Thanks!” The girls respond in unison.

  Neither Zach nor Paul are interested in the movie. Their eyes wonder around the room. Zach starts whispering to Paul again, “I thought you liked the remoteness of your vacation home on the Big Island.”

  “We do, eccentric neighbors and all; something straight out of a Ma and Pa Kettle movie or The Beverly Hillbillies.”

  Ruth glared at the two of them, grabbed the remote, pressed the pause button, and asked, “So you want to watch Ma and Pa Kettle?”

  “No, we’re talking about our house on the Big Island of Hawaii,” Paul responded.

  “Darling,” Sarah addressing Paul, “they already told us they don’t want to go to Hawaii. Why push it?” Sarah then looked at Zach, “Zach always has an excuse of being tied up on this or that trial. And...” Sarah looked at Ruth, “Ruth doesn’t want to leave the comfort of the Big Apple.” Sarah looked at the screen. “Now that we have everything cleared up, let’s watch the movie.” Ruth pressed the play button and everyone turned their attention towards the screen and resumed watching Charlie Chan.

  ✽✽✽

  Auntie Mame was always Ruth’s favorite novel, so much so, she vowed when she grew up, she would live in the very place Auntie Mame lived, Number 3 Beekman Place. It took years for Ruth and Zach to obtain the apartment with the terrace overlooking the East River on the secluded two block long residential street, just north of the United Nations building.

  The Christmas decorations filled the penthouse sunroom as the light from the rising sun over the East River cast a golden glow across the room. Mrs. Wiggins was playing with one of the Christmas ornament balls hanging nearby.

  Dressed in woolen robes, Ruth and Zach were seated at the table drinking coffee and having breakfast. Ruth took a sip of coffee from her Tiffany coffee cup and glanced at Zach finishing his half eaten bagel reading the New York Times. Ruth noticed the headline Defense Atty Newcomb Drops Bombshell at Baccio Trial. “What’s this about a bombshell?”

  “A bombshell?” Zach exclaimed. “It’s only the beginning! The medicinal marijuana issue came to a head yesterday.”

  “Darling, you know marijuana is bad. I don’t understand why you are for it.”

  “I’m not. Joe thinks since states have started to allow medicinal marijuana, it’s another way to make money.”

  “Darling, I don’t understand it at all. People are using the medicinal excuse to get high.”

  “We have documentation that it does help some people.”

  Ruth, having finished her breakfast, got up. “Got to run.” She went over and kissed Zach, who smiled as she left the terrace.

  The Nutcracker

  The studio office corridor was filled with business people dressed in holiday colors scurrying about. Pauline stood by the elevator, repeatedly looked at her watch and took an occasional sip from her coconut water while she waited for Ruth. Ding, the elevator door opened, people exited, while others entered, the door closed. Another look at the watch followed by a sip. Ding, the elevator door opened, people exited, door closed. Ding, the third elevator door opened. This time, Ruth, dressed her woolen coat and scarf, stepped out of the elevator.

  “Aunt Ruth, great show yesterday. Nothing like the Rockettes!”

  Ruth nodded, “You said it, Pauline.”

  Ruth strode towards her office. Pauline ran to keep up.

  “So we’re doing another segment on The Nutcracker?”

  “Haven’t decided yet.”

  “When are you and Uncle Zach seeing it?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Sarah caught up with Ruth and Pauline. “Good news! I was able to get Alec Baldwin for today’s show.”

  “Great!” Ruth and Pauline respond in unison.

  Ruth noticed Pauline taking a sip from her coconut water. “Pauline, why are you drinking that stuff?”

  “Coconut water is a great alternative to other drinks as it is all-natural, healthy and potassium rich among other things. Some call it ‘Mother Nature’s sports drink.’”

  “Sounds like you’re an advertisement.” Ruth responded as they entered her office. Ruth hung her coat and scarf on the coat stand. The office was clean with a special feminine air about it. Flowers on the desk, plant in the corner, goldfish bowl on the credenza next to an Emmy, and needlepoint “I Love New York” pillow on the plush leather sofa. On the wall was a framed “Reading Is Fun” poster from the New York Metropolitan Library with Ruth holding The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in the center. Pictures of Ruth with the Clintons, Donald Trump, Jackie Onassis, Princess Dianna and Prince Charles adorn the walls along with diplomas from New York and Columbia Universities and a plaque for the Nobel Prize in Journalism. Behind her desk was a spectacular view of the New York skyline. Ruth sat at the desk, placed her purse in the top right drawer. Sarah and Pauline took seats across from Ruth’s desk.

  “We need to work on the show,” Sarah stated. “We cannot do another year of The Nutcracker.”

  “Darling,” Ruth responded, “I was trying to make things easy and we’re seeing it tomorrow night.”

  “We will need a different angle than what we’ve done in the past. Any suggestions?”

  “I see, making me do all the work! Hmm…”

  “We might as well run last year’s show.”

  Ruth laughed. “You’re so funny, Sarah. How about the fight scene between the soldiers and the mice or the costumes and make-up?”

  Sarah started taking notes. “That’s a thought.”

  “Sure, the conflict, the intrigue, the combat. Finally
, the soldiers all dead ...” Ruth said jokingly, “Not unlike living in New York.” They all laughed.

  “It is Christmas!” Sarah exclaimed, “and fights don’t mix, Ruth. The Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker dance sequence is more Christmassy.”

  “Do we always have to sugar coat it?” Ruth asked.

  They all laughed again.

  “You know what I’m talking about. You’re the one who mentioned The Nutcracker.”

  “I was trying to keep things simple,” Ruth admitted.

  Pauline glanced at the framed New York Metropolitan Library Reading is Fun poster. “Aunt Ruth, you always do a great job at reading A Christmas Carol. Maybe we could do a segment on that instead of The Nutcracker.”

  “That’s an idea,” Sarah exclaimed. “Let’s keep our options open. Best of all, we have Alec this afternoon and are going to see The Nutcracker tomorrow.”

  ✽✽✽

  The following evening, Ruth and Zach were in their master bathroom vanity area getting dressed in formal attire. Zach was unsuccessfully attempting to put on his black onyx cuff links. Ruth noticed he was having difficulty and helped Zach put them on. She reached into her jewelry case and took out her triple-strand pearl necklace. Without saying a word, Zach lovingly took the necklace from her and started to put it on Ruth’s neck. As he does so, she turned her back to him, to make it easier for Zach to attach the necklace. After fastening the clasp, he stood back, giving Ruth an affectionate whack on her derrière. “You’re so beautiful! And these pearls make you look fantastic!” Ruth smiled as Zach turned her around for a long hug and affectionate kiss.

  ✽✽✽

  At Lincoln Center, a light snow was falling, adding to the magic of the evening performance of The Nutcracker. Limousines pulled up alongside taxis and cars. Exiting from one limousine were Ruth, Zach, Sarah, and Paul, all dressed in formal attire. The foursome walked with the other theater goers as the falling snow glistened reflecting the lights illuminating the fountain. Large posters announce The Nutcracker as they made their way towards the golden lit Lincoln Center entrance.

  During the performance, Ruth and Sarah looked at each other smiling as the Nutcracker and the mice began to battle. Sarah noticed Ruth had reached into her purse and pulled out a notepad, and whispered, “Enjoy it! You don’t need to take notes.”

  “Darling, you know me, I need to.”

  Sarah placed her hand on the notepad and shook her head. Ruth started to pay attention to the ballet.

  ✽✽✽

  The mezzanine was filled with people dressed in black tie and Christmas colored evening gowns, sipping Champagne or wine. Ruth, Zach, Sarah, and Paul were sequestered in a corner sipping Champagne. Ruth enthusiastically exclaimed, “The fight sequence was better than past years. However, I don’t think we have enough to do a full eight minute segment on this version being any different.”

  Paul smiled retorting, “Wait until the third act.”

  “During the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker dance.” Zach added.

  Paul leaned into the girls, “We heard rumor that they are seeing each other.”

  “Who’s seeing whom?” Sarah inquired.

  “The Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker, who else?” Zach answered.

  “Oh, stop it, you two.” Ruth exclaimed.

  “We’re not kidding. In real life Rudolph and Natasha are seeing each other. I heard that scene makes the show.” Paul responded.

  Zach noticed Joe and Eileen Baccio, now in their sixties, walking up to the foursome. “Joe, I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” Zach said as he extended his hand to Joe. “You enjoying the show?”

  “Fantastic!” Joe responded. “The tension between the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker is unbelievable! I don’t recall that from prior performances.”

  “Zach put you up to this didn’t he, Joe?” Sarah asked.

  “Up to what?”

  “Oh, never mind.” Sarah shaking her head, continued. “How’s the trial going?”

  Millie, a woman in her fifties carrying a Playbill program and pen, made her way to the group, followed by her meek short portly balding husband in tow, interrupted the conversation. “You’re Ruth Newcomb of From the Big Apple, aren’t you?”

  “Darling, who else could I be?”

  “I adore your show. May I have your autograph?” Millie pushed the Playbill program and the pen towards Ruth.

  “Darling, what’s your name?”

  “Millie ... Millie Greenwald.”

  Ruth looked at Millie’s husband, who looked down, avoiding eye contact with Ruth and the others in her party.

  “Do you want me to add your husband’s name, too?”

  Millie smiled, clasped her hands together, looked up at Ruth. “Oh, could you? Please! His name is Billy.” The husband smiled.

  “Ah, Millie and Billy, what a pair!” Ruth laughed followed by everyone else, as she signed the front of the Playbill program. “To Millie and Billy, My favorite fans, Ruth Newcomb.” She drew her stylized From the Big Apple logo around her signature. Ruth handed the program back to Millie. Both Millie and Billy looked at the signature on the Playbill program smiling as they received the best Christmas gift ever.

  “Oh, thank you so much, Mrs. Newcomb. Thank you and Merry Christmas.”

  Millie and Billy both bowed as if they were in the presence of royalty, turning, they left the group.

  “Ruth, every time we get together your fans interrupt. Don’t you ever get tired of it?” Eileen asked.

  “Not in the least, Eileen.” Ruth answered, “It’s expected. Now, where were we?”

  “Sarah was asking how things were going with the trial.” Joe responded. “I think it’s going better than expected. We’re dealing with medicinal marijuana; it in itself is enough to cause major issues.”

  The first chime rang. The audience started to head into the theater. A few looked at Ruth and smiled, giving her a nod, as they passed the group. Ruth nodded back.

  “I believe the medicinal marijuana is the way to go,” Joe continued. “Legalize it, not only here, but nationwide, and tax it. The government makes money, I make money, and everyone will be happy.” The second chime is heard. “We better get back to our seats. Hope you all have a wonderful evening. See you later. Merry Christmas!” Joe and Eileen turn and join the theater going crowd as they return to their seats.

  ✽✽✽

  As the audience exited Lincoln Center, they were greeted by a heavy snow, which had already blanketed the plaza. Ruth, Zach, Sarah, and Paul made their way through one of the shoveled paths to the awaiting limousines at street level. After a few moments, their limousine pulled up. Inside, they brushed the snow from their jackets, as the limousine headed down Broadway towards Columbus Circle. Ruth starts the conversation, “Let’s focus on the Rudolf and Natasha romance.”

  “We can’t,” Sarah responded.

  “Why not, Darling? I think that’s what made the show so good.”

  “We need to verify if the romance is true or not.”

  “Pshaw!” Ruth responded as the limousine entered Columbus Circle with the other cars, trucks, taxis, and limousines whizzing unencumbered through the snow, ice, and slush. Over Sarah’s shoulder, through the limousine window, Ruth watched in horror as a large truck skidding sideways was headed directly towards the side of the limousine where Sarah was seated. Ruth stiffened and yelled, “Brace yourselves!”

  Post Mortem

  Ruth was in a hospital bed, eyes closed. Bottles filled with Ringer’s and other solutions hung from hooks attached to a bar attached to the bed. All the tubes connected to her arm. Ruth opened her eyes, blinking, and scanned the room. The counter was completely covered with flowers and cards; larger flower arrangements had condolences ribbons on them. On the floor next to the counter was a large From the Big Apple logo flower arrangement with black and white carnations on its own stand with a ribbon stating “Our thoughts are with you.”

  Pauline and
Linda, Pauline’s mother and Ruth’s look-alike albeit blonde sister, entered the room carrying a large bouquet of flowers.

  “Everyone sends their condolences. I never knew black flowers were so hard to come by.” Pauline declared as she moved one of the flower arrangements on the counter to make room for her display.

  “Darling, you look much better than we expected considering what you’ve been through,” Linda remarked. “We are all surprised that anyone survived that nasty crash.”

  “It’s been on every news channel.” Pauline added.

  “What are you talking about?” inquired Ruth.

  “The accident,” Sarah added, “you were the sole survivor. The impact of the truck was so hard, it trapped everyone inside. The fire department was able to get you out before the limo exploded in flames killing everyone else. You’re so lucky!”

  ✽✽✽

  A persistent rain fell at the Brooklyn cemetery filled with cars, limousines, news trucks, and large canopies protecting the crowd of mourners surrounding the Newcomb headstone. Ruth was prominently seated front row center flanked by Linda and Pauline, consoling her. Next to Pauline sat Madam Gloria La Fong, Ruth’s born-again hippy therapist, who wore a black Indian tunic. Next to Linda were Joe and Eileen Baccio, along with George Epstein, Zach’s law partner and executor of the estate.

  The funeral was hard on Ruth. During the ceremony, she was in a daze, which was quite understandable considering what she had gone through and losing those dearest to her. She knew the clock could not be turned back and nothing would be the same as it once was; knowing the deaths would cause a major void in her life, generating unwanted, and unneeded changes. Ruth distained change and wished things would be like they were before the accident.

  ✽✽✽

  Back at Number 3 Beekman Place, in the walk-in closet, Ruth stood in her designer woolen bathrobe, holding Zach’s bathrobe, bringing it up to her, taking long smell, remembering intimate moments with Zach. She shook her head, sighed, pensively replaced his robe on its hook.

  Ruth meandered into the living room and looked around. A comforting fire in the fireplace added to the melancholy warmth of the room. On the mantel, pictures of Ruth holding an Emmy with Zach and the Martin’s at her side, along with photographs of Ruth and Zach having dinner with Jackie Onassis and John F. Kennedy, Jr. at Tavern on the Green, and Ruth and Zach with Donald Trump and Bill and Hillary Clinton all in golf attire. Ruth walked to the Emmy photograph and picked it up. She took it with her to a plush chair next the fireplace. Studying the photograph for a moment, she gently stoked it and smiled. A purring Mrs. Wiggins nudged her leg, letting out a single curt meow. Ruth put the photograph on the side table reached down and stroked the black cat who took the stroking as an invite and leapt up on Ruth’s lap, nudging her little black head against Ruth’s arm purring. “You’re the only one I have left. What are we going to do?”