by Doctor MC
“Yes, can I help you?” Lucy Harper asked.
Paula put on her most I’m harmless smile. “Mrs. Harper, I’m Tina Le Fey, and I have important information about Marvin. May I come in?”
Lucy Harper’s face lost its smile. “No, you’re not! You’re not Tina Somebody, you’re Paula Sarin. Get away from my house!”
You could have knocked Paula over with a dog-sled team. She was not prepared for this, that Marvin’s mom would instantly recognize her.
What does this mean? Does Marvin already know that I’m in town? Did he warn his mom and dad to beware of me?
But then Paula realized that there was a simpler explanation: Paula Sarin was a political celebrity, and Lucy Harper had recognized her.
After all, everyone in the U.S.A knew three things about Paula Sarin—
• That she had once claimed, “I can see Russia from the roof of my house.” Even though Alaska was a big state, Russia was west of Alaska, and Lawissa was on the east side of the state, Paula had still claimed that.
• That Paula Sarin talked like everyone in the movie Fargo.
• That Paula Sarin always wore glasses, and the glasses always had harlequin frames.
Now Paula said, “Mrs. Harper, I’m not Paula Sarin, though I sound like her. I’m ... I’m an office worker at the high school—”
“Oh? Marvin’s high school, what’s its name?”
“It’s ... it’s—”
“Paula Sarin, get away from my house!”
“Mrs. Harper, I just want to come in and talk to you, without alarming your neighbors. You don’t want your neighbors to wonder about you, do you?”
“What my neighbors wonder is, Why don’t you go away after I’ve told you to leave? Paula Sarin, get away from my house!”
Paula was stymied; she couldn’t think of another thing to say. But before either Paula got clever, or Lucy Harper shut the front door, Paula heard an r-r-r-r sound.
One of the house’s two garage doors went up. Seconds later, a Prius drove into the garage. Paula thought, A PRIUS? No wonder Lucy Harper hates me, they’re both Liberals!
Paula expected the garage door to shut then. But instead, Lucy Harper repeated her get-away-from-my-house yell, and a few seconds after that, Steve Harper (a smiling man in his forties) walked out of the garage and up to the front door.
Steve Harper stood by Paula, but his eyes were elsewhere. “Lucy, what’s going on?” he asked.
Before Lucy Harper could say more, Paula whirled around and grabbed the man’s hand. “Steve, you—”
Steve Harper’s eyes had already gone blank.
“Shit!” Lucy Harper said.
****
Kristin guided her car in behind an old Ford that showed a purple and yellow “Go Cossacks” bumper sticker. Kristin pointed toward the house, telling Kelly, “That’s where Marvin lived till Fri—whoa, what’s going on?”
Kelly saw a red-haired woman on the doorstep sidewalk, talking to a soccer-mom-looking blonde who stood behind a screen door. But even though the windows in Kristin’s car were rolled up, Kelly clearly heard the soccer mom yell, “Paula Sarin, get away from my house!”
Kelly was wondering if Marvin had gotten crazy-thinking from his mom, when a man walked out of the open garage door. He stopped by the red-haired woman and spoke to the woman inside.
Kristin said, “That’s Marvin’s dad—”
Things happened quickly then.
The red-haired woman whirled around and grabbed Mr. Harper’s hand.
Mr. Harper froze. The redhead started talking to him, though Kelly couldn’t hear her words.
The screen door flew open, and Mrs. Harper dived off the doorstep, knocking the redhead to the ground. Mrs. Harper jumped up and grabbed the man-statue’s hand.
Mrs. Harper was trying to drag her husband into the house. But to get from the sidewalk to the front door, Mr. Harper needed to step up two steps, but he was too brain-fried to lift a foot.
The redhead had been knocked onto her belly. When she stood up, Kelly saw that her red hair was askew: Long hair covered her right shoulder, and the left side of her head had bangs.
The woman grabbed her red hair and, with a frown, threw it on the ground. She stood thirty feet away from Kelly, but she was facing the Plato Smith girls directly. Kelly saw that the woman was tall, brunette, trim and shapely, and she wore harlequin eyeglasses.
Kristin said, “Is that—?”
Kelly gasped. “Shit, it’s Paula Sarin.”
“Maybe it’s someone else?” Kristin said. “Why would Paula Sarin be here?”
“Don’t know,” Kelly replied. “But wearing those Sixties glasses, who else is it?”
Then Kelly nodded at the CD player. “Would you mind turning that off?” Kelly wanted to hear what the Harpers and their visitor were saying.
As Kristin was turning off the music, Kelly was rolling the passenger-side window down. Then Kristin turned off the idling car engine. Now the two teen girls could hear everything clearly.
By now the Harpers had made it up one step. Mrs. Harper was pulling on Mr. Harper’s arm, trying to either yank him up to the top step, or to show him where he should go. But he was still befuddled.
Mrs. Harper had taken too long. By now, Paula Sarin had spun around and had hurried up to the Harpers. Sarin laid a hand on the back of each Harper neck; both husband and wife froze.
Kelly heard Paula Sarin’s words clearly: “Steve and Lucy, you trust me, you believe me, you’ll answer any question that I ask with the whole truth, and you’ll help me achieve my goals.”
Kelly heard the man and woman’s voice say, “This is true.”
Paula Sarin dropped her hands from Marvin’s parents’ necks. Then she suddenly spun around, locked eyes with Kelly, and said, “Hold on, please let me talk to you.”
Paula Sarin walked quickly to Kristin’s car, taking long strides.
“GO, KRISTIN! HURRY!” Kelly yelled.
Kelly hit the switch to roll the window up. But the window moved up by a motor, at a set speed, and Paula Sarin was closing the distance too quickly. Kelly did not want Paula Sarin touching her and making her a mindless slave!
Paula Sarin actually got her fingers in through the gap in the glass.
But by then, Kristin had started the car again, and had put the car in Reverse. Before Paula Sarin could enslave Kelly, Sarin had yanked her hand out of the window to save her hand.
As Kristin was zooming her car away from the Harpers’ house, Kelly pulled out her cel phone. “Tell me Marvin’s number,” Kelly said.
****
“Thanks, Kelly, for the heads-up,” I said into my cel phone.
As I was sticking my cel phone back into my pocket, I told Fatima, “Paula Sarin is in town, and she’s Suggestioned my parents. How can that be?”
Fatima sighed. “Anyone who is exempt from your pheromones, and is not giving off pheromones himself, is open to another person’s mind-control. Anna Kay also can be enslaved by Paula Sarin.”
“Shit,” I said.
My cel phone rang. It was Mom calling. Double shit, I thought.
“Hey, Mom,” I said. It took all of my acting ability to make my voice sound stress-free.
“Hey, Marvin, how are you? I haven’t talked to you in a while.”
Actually, Mom and I had talked yesterday, so she didn’t “need” to call me yet. And Mom’s voice sounded distorted. So I asked, “Mom, why is your cel phone on speaker?”
I heard, “Um, so your dad can talk to you too. Say hi, Steve.”
On the phone, Dad said, “Hello, Son. Just want you to know that everything’s normal and boring and routine here. Oh, Son?”
This conversation was creeping me out. For one thing, Dad never called me ‘Son’.
“Yeah, Dad?” I replied.
“You know, we haven’t seen the mansion since you’ve moved in. And we’ve just made a new friend—we’d really like you to meet her. Why don’t the three of us swing by?”
It was true that the folks hadn’t toured the mansion since I’d moved in. But last Friday was what, four days ago? It was hardly like I was dissing my parents.
I replied, “Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Mom.” I almost added Sorry, Paula. I continued, “Janice and I are busting our asses on end-of-semester projects, and then come Finals. Plus, it looks like I’ll be tutoring two or three girls nearly every night for the next two weeks. After I graduate, then I’ll be glad to give you and your friend the tour. But now? No way, sorry.”
I heard words whispered in a Fargo accent. Then Dad said, “Well, Butler owes me lots of comp time. Why don’t I take tomorrow afternoon off, then an hour before you get out of school, you tell your maid to let us in. That way, we three can look around the mansion without hurting your schedule.”
“Dad, that’s not a good idea. I have four women living here who come home after midnight, and they all sleep late. Do I really want you running into Virgilia when she’s wearing only a towel? I’m sure you don’t want to see her nearly naked. Sorry, Mom and Dad, you’ll have to wait till after Finals.”
“But Son—”
Mom whined, “Maaarviiin—”
“Sorry, folks, can’t do it. And since I mentioned semester projects, I need to hang up now. Love you guys.”
Then I called a meeting in the monster kitchen, talking to every one of my housemates who wasn’t out working. I told the assembly, “Paula Sarin got to my folks. So now add my parents to the blacklist; neither Mom or Dad may come in my house.”
Fatima answered, “I obey, Master. I won’t let them in.”
Ten other housemates, all touch-slaves, answered, “No problem, Marvin sir.”
Elvira sneered, “So now your parents are part of the plot too? Have you considered seeing a shrink?”
“Twin, stop dissing Marvin,” Almira said.
“Why? I’m talking sense,” Elvira said. “Which nobody else here will do, because you’re all crazy-horny to fuck Marvin. And speaking of ‘crazy,’ Marvin has a doodad, and none of us knows what it is or where in the house it is, but some senator knows? Cuckoo, cuckoo!”
Normally I would patiently explain myself. But now I wasn’t in the mood. “Shut your trap, Elvira. My parents are ... not themselves right now, and I’m tired of your troublemaking blabberings.”
“Aw, Marvin wuvs his Momsy and Daddy, but now they is as cwazy as Marvin is. Poor widdle Marvin.”
“ENOUGH!” I yelled. “Say one thing more, Elvira, or even roll your eyes, and I’ll order Almira to put you into a chastity belt for a week! Do you back me, Almira?”
Almira said, “I’d get one week of cunt-licking without paybacks? You bet I’m with you, Marvin.”
Elvira glared at both of us, but wisely said nothing.
After I dismissed everyone, I wrote four notes (“Don’t let my parents in”), left the notes on four strippers’ pillows, and then I returned to the monster kitchen.
I walked up to the refrigerator, and pulled two bottles of Kirin Beer out of the fridge. As I was popping their tops, Fatima remarked, “You’re drinking beer? Before, you’ve always avoided alcohol, because you aren’t legal.”
“Yeah, well, I feel like shit right now,” I said. “And one’s for you, because I don’t want to drink alone.”
I gestured for Fatima to follow me, and then I carried the beers into the Computer Room.
Just before I took my first sip of beer, I said to Fatima, “You know why I’m the luckiest bastard I know? Is it because I have bigger muscles than what Arnold once had? Is it because I can buy Latvia? Is it because sex with huge-breasted strippers is mine for the asking? No, none of those are why I’m so very lucky.”
“Go on,” Fatima said.
“I’m lucky because I had such good parents. Uncle Warren died with a secret that he didn’t trust anyone with, but I could tell Mom and Dad about you. And my trust was right: Once I told my folks, they didn’t go to the Dark Side.”
“You keep using the past tense,” Fatima said. “Your folks aren’t dead.”
I took a big swallow of beer. “Not dead, true. But Paula Sarin took something rare and beautiful, and rolled it around in vulture shit. Fuck that bitch.”
Fatima walked up behind me and, unasked, began rubbing my shoulders.
****
Tuesday, 8:53 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Paula felt content as she drove into the motel parking lot. She hadn’t gotten the lamp yet, but she’d gotten the next best thing: lots of good information.
(Such as the fact that Fatima was kept in a brass lamp, not a brass bottle like Jernie. Another wonderful info-nugget: Fatima’s lamp probably was stored in a World War II green footlocker.)
Driving up to the motel-room door, Paula felt content, but she also was horny. Marvin’s mother Lucy had never done cunnilingus before, so she’d managed only to arouse Paula, not bring Paula off. Well, that’s part of why I brought Sheila here, Paula thought.
When Paula got inside the motel room, she discovered Sheila reading a porn-site story on her computer, “Tiffany the Robot.” Sheila’s cheeks were flushed, and she was rubbing herself.
Paula said, “I don’t mind you having fun, Sheila, so long as you did what I told you to do. What have you found out?”
Sheila replied, “I discovered that his house has three alarm systems. The first covers the security gate, the doors and windows of the garage, and does motion-detection of the grounds. The second alarm circuit is for the house: It covers the house’s windows and doors. The third alarm is for one door and two windows, which I’m guessing belong to the master bedroom.”
“So what did you find out?”
“The outer two alarm systems come back on when dropped, but the alarm system for Marvin’s bedroom stays off.”
“What do you mean, the systems ‘come back’? Make them go off and stay off, instead of you reading porn!”
Mousy Sheila was trembling, which she did every time she had to contradict Paula. Panting from hyperventilation, Sheila said, “Don’t you think I’ve tried, ‘Tina’? I’ve done everything short of walk into that house with a soldering iron, but no cigar. I turn off a circuit, I blink my eyes, and the circuit turns back on. I suspect that the house has battery-operated duplicate circuits.”
Paula thought, Or maybe Fatima did something magical. After all, somehow Marvin and Fatima knew I was coming.
Aloud, Paula told Sheila, “Turn off your computer, then come lick me till I say ‘Stop.’ I need to sleep well tonight—”
“I obey, Senator,” Sheila said with downcast gaze (and a throaty voice).
“—because tomorrow will be a busy day for me. Tomorrow I go to Marvin’s house.”
Chapter 40
Paula Meets Elvira
WEDNESDAY
Wednesday, 6:15 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Ten minutes before my alarm went off, I woke up with ideas in my head. I shut off the alarm, kissed Sherry on the cheek (we’d had sex three hours earlier), jumped out of bed, jammed on my pants, and rushed through the mansion to the monster kitchen.
I had to find Fatima now.
I had figured correctly: Fatima was in the monster kitchen. I grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her into the dishwashing room, saying, “I need to talk to you!” Unfortunately, we weren’t alone there: Matsuko and Tiffani were working at the deep-sink.
As soon as Fatima and I got to the computer room, I requested that she create a soundproofing box. Fatima made the box, while giving me a raised eyebrow and an amused smile. Then when nobody could possibly hear us, I asked Fatima to summon her scrying ball.
As soon as the scrying ball was afloat in front of her face, I said, “I have either two or three questions to ask you. I know that these questions are requests, and you can refuse to answer, but I really, really hope that you’ll answer me. I need to know.”
Her eyebrow, which had come down, went up again. “What are your questions?”
With great anxiousness I a
sked my first question. Three minutes later, Fatima gave me her answer.
That answer made us both smile.
Then I asked my second question. Fifteen seconds later, Fatima answered.
This time, both our smiles were bigger, and it immediately led to my asking my third question. Fatima instantly answered.
In response to her words, we both grinned.
I was still grinning when I said, “Everything you’ve told me, it simplifies things. I was worried that I’d need to make the girls move out of the mansion, when they’d just moved in. Now I can let them stay.”
Fatima frowned. “Master, just because—”
“It’s decided, Fatima. Nobody’s evacuating, nobody leaves. For one thing, Gregory’s Girls have no place to go.”
Fatima frowned again, then said, “Your choice might be unwise.” It was the closest that she’d ever come to saying Master, you’re a fucking idiot.
Then I changed the subject, asking her about magical defenses against an attack by Paula Sarin. I learned that if I was attacked directly, Fatima would defend me (if I were unable to defend myself). I also learned that the house and grounds had three security-alarm circuits, and that Fatima already had magically strengthened two of them.
My eyebrow went up. “Just two? Why not the third one?”
Fatima shrugged. “You don’t keep anything valuable in your bedroom, Master, except for my Vessel. And by King Solomon’s rule, I’m not allowed to magically hamper theft of the lamp.”
I said, “Semi off-topic: How did Paula Sarin get here from Lawissa? Can she teleport? Can she foom around like you can?”
Fatima said, “She can’t ‘foom around.’ As for how she got here...”
Fatima hit her scrying ball. Soon she told me, “Paula came here in a Cessna jet that is registered to Charles Cassidy of Anchorage, Alaska.”
I clapped my hands. “Then there’s no problem! She can’t teleport, right? So the only way for her to get from the curb to my bedroom is by moving her feet, right? If she tries anything during the day, people here see her and stop her. If she tries anything at night, alarms go off that she can’t silence. She can’t get close to the lamp! Which means, the safest place for the lamp is still my bedroom.”