Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III

by A. H. Rousseau

  “Alright, how do you know he forgot them? You didn't go back in the car to see.”

  “Because, I made sure that they were conveniently not in his coat pocket when he thought they were.”

  “Oh for... You planned this?!”

  “Of course. I don't... Wait!” Cassidy held up her arm to stop Gideon. “He's crossing the street.”

  Ahead, Jebediah waited for a horse-drawn carriage to pass before jogging across the street and walking into the al fresco deck of a restaurant.

  “He's stopped outside of that cafe,” said Cassidy. “Looks like he's waiting for someone.” Cassidy watched him for a moment. He stood there, checking his pocket watch. Cassidy turned to Gideon and leaned on the lamp post next to them. “I want to get closer to him.”

  “Even without his spectacles, he'll see us. He's blind, not stupid,” said Gideon.

  “Yeah,” Cassidy said, drifting off into thought. “We need... camouflage.” She looked around her surroundings before turning to the shop directly next to them. She smiled. “Ha! Ask and ye shall receive,” she said, pointing to the window which had a beautiful, frilly, yellow dress on display.

  “For... you?” Gideon asked.

  “Yes for me!” Cassidy said with a slight scoff. “Yellow isn't your color.”

  “No, it really isn't,” Gideon said. “Nice dress, though.”

  The two looked at the dress a bit more. “I may have to cut some seams to fit into it,” Cassidy said.

  ---

  Cassidy and Gideon walked down the street, Cassidy attached to Gideon's arm, Gideon wearing a new top hat. The seams at almost every point on her dress were ripping, with Cassidy's large, muscular frame literally bursting out all over.

  “You look awful,” said Gideon with a smile.

  “I don't need to look good. Just so long as he doesn't realize that it's us. Dressed like this, we could sit ten feet from him and he wouldn't know.”

  Gideon chuckled. “People are staring.”

  “I am not surprised.”

  “You look like a strongman stole a woman's summer dress.”

  “Really? I look that muscular?”

  “Yeah. You're... big.”

  “Hm. I take that as a compliment.”

  “How do you consider this camouflage for anything?”

  “Because, no one ever suspects a woman of doing anything criminal except prostitution and maybe theft. I'm certainly not a prostitute, and I'm not inside a store, so I'm not a threat. I might be an oddity, but that's fine enough.”

  “That works?”

  “Oh sure,” replied Cassidy. “If I dress up like a woman, I can get away with anything. Living in a world that has little respect for women is sometimes very helpful.”

  “Why do you think that is? I mean, why do you think people are so willing to drop their guard?”

  “Because people... are... stupid... Ok, we're coming into earshot. We're going to have to keep our voices low. He can't see us, but he can sure as hell hear us.”

  The two walked up to the outdoor restaurant and, passing through a small, flower-covered gateway, sat at one of the tables. They sat in the corner of the deck farthest from Jebediah, who was still standing on the wooden sidewalk, just outside of another flower-covered gateway.

  “I think you have to — no wait, here comes a waiter,” said Cassidy, as the waiter walked up. The waiter was a short, small man with a large head and a prominent, pointy chin. “Hi,” Cassidy said. “Tea, please. A tray, if possible.” The waiter nodded, then looked to Gideon.

  “Oh, yes, I'm, uh,” Gideon stammered as he pointed at Cassidy and himself. The waiter nodded with understanding.

  “This isn't a bad city,” said Cassidy. “I'm sad that I didn't visit down here sooner. My company has a metal-working plant somewhere outside of the city.”

  “I wouldn't be too upset. The city was half this size only a few years ago. I had never been here, but I had to keep current on its status. I'd imagine that you didn't miss much. I mean, the roads aren't even paved yet.”

  Cassidy sighed. “What the hell is he waiting for?” she asked, looking to Jebediah.

  Gideon looked over Jebediah, still standing on the sidewalk, his hands clasped behind his back. “You're remarkably impatient sometimes. Relax. He's right there. You'll find out.”

  “Patience is for the patient,” replied Cassidy. “And I am not in a hospital.”

  “What?” asked Gideon. “Oh, I get it. That is horrible word-play. They aren't actually related. It's not the same base.”

  “Yeah, but the words sound similar.”

  “No. No. It doesn't matter. What you said doesn't even make sense.”

  “It makes enough sense for my applications. You understood what I was trying to say.”

  “Yeah, but you should have just said patience is for the patient. Then it's a joke based on a tautology, which makes perfect sense.”

  “Tautology? Are you carrying a dictionary with you?”

  “I tautology is when—”

  “I know what a tautology is! No one says it!”

  “I do. It's a very useful word.”

  Cassidy looked at Gideon with a raised eyebrow. “You took philosophy in college, didn't you?”

  Gideon didn't answer immediately. “... Yes.”

  “Ha! I knew it.” Cassidy turned to look at Jebediah again. “You philosophy men love to word-drop.”

  “I'm not word dropping! You used a tautology! That's the word I used! I had to describe it somehow.”

  “Shut up! Someone's coming!” Cassidy ordered. Gideon stuck his tongue out at Cassidy.

  A man built, dressed, and cut very similarly to Jebediah arrived. The only difference was that the other man was actually wearing his spectacles.

  “Good god. Are they all doppelgangers or something. Look damned-near the same.”

  As Cassidy stared, Gideon accepted the tea tray and smiled and nodded at the waiter. He sniffed the steam rising from the tea pot.

  “I wonder if they buy their suits in bulk.” said Cassidy quietly.

  Jebediah and the other man spoke in a normal voice. The faint hint of their words carried far enough for Cassidy to hear, but not understand. “Damnit. I can't quite make out what they're saying.”

  “Well it can't be too important. They wouldn't be just broadcasting that on the street,” said Gideon as he spooned sugar into his tea cup.

  “Yeah. Most likely. Still. Maybe I can get closer.”

  “And besides!” began Gideon. “It wasn't just me. Everyone took philosophy. You had to for the degree.”

  “Yes, everyone takes philosophy,” Cassidy said, briefly turning her head to Gideon. “But not everyone studies philosophy. There's a difference.” She then turned back to the two men.

  Gideon's brow furrowed as he poured and then stirred his tea. He grumbled.

  Cassidy turned around and poured some tea into her own cup, then picked up the small pitcher of milk.

  “What are you doing?” asked Gideon.

  “I'm adding milk to my tea,” Cassidy replied, confused.

  “No. You add the milk first, then the tea.”

  “What? No... why the hell is that a requirement?”

  “It just... is. You add the milk first, then pour the hot tea into the milk. That's how the British do it, and they know tea!”

  “There is no way I am simply accepting that. What possible practical reason could there be for adding the milk first.”

  “It stops the milk from curdling.”

  Cassidy stared at Gideon, a look of annoyed confusion on her face. “What?” she demanded.

  “Yeah! If you add the milk last, a small amount of milk curdles and you end up with that thin layer of white stuff on the surface.”

  “I'm sorry, you're making that up. I have never once noticed that.”

  “Well give it a try!” Gideon said.

  Cassidy raised an eyebrow as she took the milk back and slowly poured some into her tea. Out of the
corner of her eye, she caught a glance of Jebediah and the other man. She stopped pouring and held her breath briefly as the two men's body language changed. “Wait... I think they're getting ready to go somewhere.”

  “Ha! See!” Gideon said. “Look at your tea. White shit, all over the surface!” Cassidy ignored him. “Look, damn you.”

  “Not now,” Cassidy replied tersely. Gideon grunted and picked up his own cup. The two men stopped talking and both looked to the street, eyeing traffic, then started walking across to a large, four-story, ornate, revivalist building on the other side. “They are! Let's go!”

  Gideon sighed and rolled his eyes, placing his tea cup down before even a single sip. “My tea!”

  Cassidy looked at the table before reaching down into her bosom, ripping her dress even more. “Well... here!” she ripped out a couple of dollar bills. It can't cost more than two dollars, so our waiter gets a good tip.

  “I wanted to drink some of it.”

  “Well drink some of it.”

  “It's hot.”

  “Fine, stay here. I'll follow them.” Cassidy then got up and walked quickly out of the deck area and onto the sidewalk. Gideon fidgeted in his seat, annoyed. He sipped his tea and made a loud, fah fah fah inhaling noise as he tried to cool the liquid.

  “Shit,” Gideon whispered to himself before placing the cup down hard on the tray and getting up to follow Cassidy.

  Cassidy walked quickly across the street, following the two men who walked a ways down the sidewalk before entering the ornate building. She paused upon reaching the other sidewalk. There were few people on this stretch of walkway, with the bulk of the shops further down. She stood next to an empty horse-drawn carriage, acting like it was hers. Her eyes fell on a man standing by the door, obviously a guard. Gideon jogged across the street and next to Cassidy.

  “They're inside,” said Gideon. “It looks like it's a lounge or restaurant inside. I can see a bar. They're sitting at a table near the window.”

  “It looks like we have one guard.”

  “Do you think he's armed,” Gideon asked.

  “I don't know. Our government appears to have a hard time being threatening to anyone but Indians.” Cassidy breathed deeply and collected herself. “Well, only one way to find out.”

  Cassidy walked confidently up to the man, aiming for the door. As she walked over, a tall, thin, rodenty-looking man with slicked-back blonde hair, large round glasses, and a soup-strainer moustache stepped out quickly and walked toward her, bumping into her as he went.

  “Watch where you're going, buddy,” said Cassidy. The man didn't recognize her at all and kept trotting down the road. Cassidy, annoyed, turned back to her quarry. The young guard stepped into her way. He was well-built and about Cassidy's height, with a doughy face.

  “I'm sorry ma'am, this is a members only establishment. I'm afraid that you cannot enter.”

  Cassidy then laid the man out with a massive right hook sucker punch.

  “That was spontaneous,” Cassidy said, leaning down to gather his now-unconscious body.

  Gideon's face was one of shocked horror. “Jesus!” he whispered to himself. He vacillated for a moment more before finally scurrying over to Cassidy, who was busy moving the unconscious man up against the wall. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” he hissed at her.

  “What? I felt threatened,” Cassidy said, moving the man up against the building, making him look like he was simply sitting and resting against the wall. “There, that looks believable, right?”

  “He's bleeding!”

  “Yeah, but other than that?”

  Gideon was looking about in a mild panic. “How the hell has no one seen this? Why is no one calling the police? Where the hell are we?!”

  Cassidy stood up and shifted her body around stiffly with an uncomfortable grimace on her face. She lifted her arms slightly and then, with a severe twist and arch to her back caused a loud rip to emanate from somewhere on her dress. “Ah! There we go!” she said in a satisfied tone. “Now, come along then!” she said cheerfully as she marched into the restaurant.

  Gideon sighed frustratedly and walked in after her.

  Inside was a large coat-check room. The maître d’ stood by a small pedestal by the entrance on the right wall. The left wall was a long bench with gas lamps running up to the back wall which contained the coat-check counter. Cassidy walked up to the maître d’, a thin man about as tall as Cassidy with a prominent, upper-class frown situated beneath a large, thin nose and small round spectacles.

  “Hi. Table for two,” Cassidy said with a smile.

  The maître d’ looked up, furrowing his brow in surprise. “I'm sorry...” he looked up and down at Cassidy's comically-ruined dress, “miss... but this is a private establishment. In fact, how did you get in here?” He looked past Cassidy to the door. “Wasn't there a man at the door?”

  “Him? Oh, yes. I punched him unconscious,” said Cassidy matter-of-factly.

  “You punched Frederick?! What in the...” The maître d’ failed to find words.

  “Can we have a table now?”

  “Absolutely not! Why are you even here?”

  “We are stalking Mr. Ames at that table over there.”

  The maître d’ stared at Cassidy in stunned silence. “That's wonderful. I now don't care what you are doing. You must leave.”

  “Don't worry about it. We're friends of his. That's why we know who he is. He doesn't know that we're following him, but it is rather important that we do.”

  “Mr. Ames is more than capable of taking care of himself. He does not need your help.”

  “The only reason why Mr. Ames is here is because of my help,” Cassidy said indignantly.

  “Oh... yes. You must be miss St. Claire,” the maître d' said, calmed a bit. “I suppose no one should be surprised to find you here.”

  “Look, here.” Cassidy reached into her bosom, again ripping more of her dress, and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. “Here is fifty dollars. Just put us at a table near Mr. Ames.”

  “A bribe?! You have a reputation, but to have the gall to offer me a bribe?! I, I... I will do nothing of the sort. I demand that you leave!”

  “You're not making this very easy for me.”

  “That's the point! Get out!” Flustered and upset, the man leaned toward the door to the dining area and snapped his fingers in the air, then waved for some unseen person to come to the door.

  “Look, Gideon Atwater here is a member of the State Department, too. High ranking!” she pointed to Gideon who was trying to look small and innocent behind her.

  “That's wonderful. State Department people are rejected here all the same.”

  A very large man, six-foot-five and more than two-hundred-and-fifty pounds, loomed into the doorway. “Gregory! Escort this woman out the door and ensure that she does not make it back in.”

  “Wow,” Cassidy said, sizing up the man. “You should have him outside.”

  “Thank you. I will not take your thoughts into consideration,” replied the maître d'.

  Cassidy looked at the large man. “So, Gregory, how would you like to earn fifty dollars?”

  Gregory reached out and grabbed Cassidy's shoulder firmly. He stopped with a look of slight surprise and glanced at Cassidy. He pushed to move Cassidy but she didn't budge. “I exercise,” said Cassidy. She turned back to the maître d’. “Alright, members only. How do I become a member.”

  “Member?! You will never be a member!” said the maître d’ with an expression of near-disgust.

  “Why?”

  “For one thing, you have the appearance of someone who just escaped from the circus. And for another thing, we will never allow a woman in our midst, especially one of such visibly low breeding such as you,” the maître d’ delivered the last statement with a thick, viscous sneer.

  Cassidy's expression was flat. She leaned into Gregory and spoke in a low tone. “Gregory, could you let me go for a moment. Just a moment.” The gia
nt man nodded and let go of her shoulder. Cassidy promptly slammed a massive haymaker into the maître d’s head, knocking his spectacles off. Gregory grabbed Cassidy in a large bear hug from behind and lifted her off the ground. Gideon stood back, looking upset and unsure of what to do. Cassidy struggled against the embrace and kicked wildly.

  “How do you like that, you jackass! My fist of visibly low breeding!”

  At the table, among the crowd of more identically-dressed men at the surrounding tables, Jebediah and the other man talked quietly. The man stopped and furrowed his brow as he looked in the direction of the coat check.

  “What is it?” asked Jebediah.

  “There appears to be a fight going on between one of the guards and a... woman... in a dress that looks like it was attacked by a mountain lion.”

  Jebediah sighed with an exasperated look. “Does she have red hair?”

  “Yes,” the man responded, seeming a tad surprised. “She does.”

  “One moment,” said Jebediah, getting up out of his chair. He walked over to the coat check room.

  When he got there, Gregory was trying to walk Cassidy through the door to the outside, but she had her feet up against the door frame.

  “Cassidy! What the hell are you doing?!” Jebediah's yell stopped all activity. Cassidy leaned her head over Gregory's arm.

  “Oh, hi Jeb. How are you?” replied Cassidy.

  “I asked you to stay in the blasted train car! Good god, woman! Can't you listen to anyone but your own childish wants?! This doesn't concern you in the slightest!”

  “Oh, I'm fine. Thanks for asking. I made a new friend, this is Gregory the gorilla.”

  Jebediah stared at Cassidy, speechless at her display. “You... you are incorrigible! No wonder everyone seems to be furious with you at all times! And you!” he yelled, pointing at Gideon. “What happened to you!?”

  “Oh I, this isn't, I mean I'm not, I, I, and, you know, I, I, I would never.”

  “Never mind. Just get back to the train. I will meet you both there where we will have words.” Jebediah turned to face the doorway into dining area. “Gregory, try to not hurt them, but if need be, feel free.”

  BOOM!

  The explosion sent Jebediah flying backwards into the side wall of the coat room. The front of the building was blasted out. Wood, metal, and stone shrapnel ripped through the street, the carriages, the cafe, and the awnings. The shockwave blew out the wall separating the coat check room from the dining room, sending Gideon to the ground and Cassidy and Gregory out into the entrance way. Windows along the street shattered. People fell to the ground. Dust rose, wood and stone fell, as every bird for a mile radius simultaneously took to the sky.