Weekend at Prism

by John Patrick Kavanagh

  “Wheels Up, On Tour with CCBBA… ”

  “That’s the one, and he asked some very interesting questions about my methodology, about the members of the group, about the way the machine operated. He has a phenomenal eye for detail and genuinely enjoys exploring the logic that underpins things. Not just as to that specific band during those 14 days. The logic behind most anything and how that, in turn, translates into a successful product.”

  “In a previous conversation you mentioned his calmness.”

  “Easily one of the most centered persons I’ve ever met. Here he’s got, he’s created the most popular board game in history, he was the majority shareholder and CEO of the-then fourth most visited web site on the Internet… ”

  “Now presently number three… ”

  “He’s building the, one of the most spectacular resort-casinos ever conceived and paying attention to the smallest of details to make certain it comes out as perfectly as possible, and in the many interactions we’ve had since then I have never heard him raise his voice in anger nor frustration, have witnessed his concern for everybody in his employ… his desire for them to both take pride in their work and to execute at the highest level their talents or skills bring to the table. Now, he’s been on your show how many times?”

  “Four.”

  “What are your impressions?”

  “I can’t argue with anything you’ve said. He’s one of the most articulate guests I’ve ever interviewed. An encyclopedic knowledge of pop culture, current events, politics, you name it. And very generous. Never produced one of those lists we’ve both seen from, uh, less important lights in the popular firmament galaxy outlining what can and can’t or should or shouldn’t be explored. I’ve thrown a couple curveballs at him, one in particular that I regretted as soon as the words left my mouth, but rather than taking offense as he should have, he simply… with a smile, I might add, responded frankly and honestly.”

  “If I recall, two of those segments included Ben Walbee.”

  “They did. Talk about… having just one of them across the table from you is daunting enough, but I felt like I could have been with a couple of regular guys, old friends who… You know, I got that same feeling when I saw your interview with Andy Polanski and Dave Lera.”

  “The finishing a sentence for one another thing?”

  “Precisely. That, and a very strong mutual respect along with a sense of playfulness you don’t often experience. At least I don’t. A pair of gentlemen who’re at the very top of their games, in their case two quite different games and for extraordinarily high stakes, and there is not an iota of doubt about where they’ve been and where they’re going. And it’s nonetheless a perfect fit. Now, about the stage?”

  “From ours and our viewers perspectives, The Alliance is set up stage right while Pandora’s Obsession is stage left with sort of neutral areas between them, and of course the front. They’ll both be using risers in some cases, those platforms capable of being rearranged between numbers if so desired. The band not performing won’t be blacked out but the lights will be amped down quite a bit so as not to detract from the group which is performing.”

  “Not to mention the fact that Geno Polata and his staff, I’m told, have the capability to completely… what would you call it… the ability to make individuals appear or disappear?”

  “I saw a demonstration yesterday. He calls it Decoy.”

  “Sooo… if someone were to suddenly appear out of nowhere they’d be decoyed? Or would that be only if they disappeared?”

  “I’d say decoyed for disappearing and de-decoyed if they appeared.”

  “I think we just added some new terms to the English language. We’ll have to check with Oxford and Merriam-Webster on how the residuals work, eh?”

  They both laughed.

  “And… Connie, I’m told we’ve got ten seconds until lift-off. I’m ready? Are you?”

  “If Yul Brynner makes a guest appearance, I won’t be surprised.”

  They both laughed again as the house announcer proclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, here and around the world, welcome to the Oasis Theater. It is with great pleasure we introduce our host, the inventor of Standoff!... the architect and proprietor of the Prism Resort and Casino… the man orchestrating what will no doubt go down in the history books as the greatest concert ever presented… ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Franklin Potcheck!”

  The crowd went wild as the man behind the curtain casually made his way from the shadows. Dressed in a sharp three piece blue pinstriped suit, a starched white shirt, perfectly knotted tie with a matching pocket square, thick mane of grey hair coiffed just so, he looked every inch of the powerhouse Wisconsin attorney he once was. “Thank you, thank you,” he began, bowing slightly and clasping his hands together. But the acclaim grew in intensity, lasting a good minute more until he motioned a few times for silence.

  “Thank you. Thank you again, and… I’ve been waiting for this night for more days than I can count, and I’m so glad you’re all here to share this exciting evening with me. So without further adieu… are you ready for a friendly little dustup?”

  The audience roared its approval.

  “Representing Pandora’s Obsession,” he said gesturing, “please give a warm welcome to Miss Laura Loveland.”

  And they did.

  With small but quick steps she hurried to his side, smiling like a girl who’d just been announced as the queen of the prom. Her hair was piled high, held in place with barrettes matching the Standoff! colors, her only jewelry a pair of diamond earrings studs, a complimentary tennis bracelet and a leather belt with a silver buckle. The snug purple blouse, flattering, skintight black Spandex leggings now back in fashion as part of the 1980s craze and black heels made her seem taller than her already striking five-eleven frame. After exchanging a handshake and brief greeting, she modestly eased back a few feet.

  “Representing CCBBA,” Potcheck continued, “please give an equally warm welcome to Mr. Andy Polanski.”

  And they did again.

  With slow, deliberate strides he headed across, giving a nod of appreciation for the ovation. A black leather morning coat over an elaborate white shirt showing embroidered ruffled cuffs extended down to meet the tops of his mid-thigh, heeled leather boots, leaving just a glimpse of the gray denims completing the ensemble, along with silver-framed shades and black lenses.

  Just like he owns the place, Spotwood thought.

  After shaking the host’s hand he extended an offer to Loveland who, following a hesitation, accepted it.

  “Thank you all again for joining us tonight,” Potcheck shouted with raised hands, then made his exit. The salvo of appreciation finally settled after Polanski made a throat-cut motion. After looking her opponent up and down, Loveland began the repartee.

  “So where’d you dock your pirate ship, Captain?”

  Ooohs and ahhhs, laughter and clapping.

  “Down the Strip at Treasure Island this morning. While I was waiting for my claim check I noticed they’re interviewing for waitress positions starting at 9:00 tomorrow.”

  “God. Waitressing was the first job I ever had.” She placed her hands on her hips. “And I was pretty darn good if I do say so.”

  “Well keep that in mind. You might be looking for a new gig after tonight.”

  The house went wild.

  “You know, I drove by there this afternoon and noticed a vessel I hadn’t seen before. Is yours the one named Always A Bridesmaid?”

  The intensity of the laughter from the crowd seemed to catch them off-guard and they struggled to keep straight faces.

  “Nope. Mine was the one I borrowed from my buddy Blackbeard. Seemed more appropriate for the occasion.” He leaned in to her. “Called the Queen Anne’s Revenge?”

  The ovation was explosive.

  It was well-rehearsed, Jip. This whole thing has been well-rehearsed.

  “Did you bring any good luck charms with you?” she smiled, folding
her fingers in and admiring them.

  “Matter of fact, I have.”

  “Me, too,” she replied, displaying her hand to him. “This is a special nail polish I had created just for you. It’s called POW. P-O-W.”

  “Like prisoner of war?”

  “More like Pandora’s Obsession Wins.”

  The audience went into a frenzy, Polanski nodding respectfully then motioning that he appreciated her pluck.

  “I showed you mine, now you show me yours,” she grinned.

  Polanski shaded his eyes as he gazed up to Master Control. “Geno? Can you light up number three?”

  In a twinkling the beams of four powerful overhead spots angled down on the platform revealing a black cube measuring three yards on a side.

  Loveland studied it for a moment then burst into laughter. “A box? You brought a box? Hate to burst your bubble, but we’ve cornered the market on those.”

  The audience loved it.

  “And if I recall, all that was left in hers was Hope… which I’d guess is all you’ve got to hang on to.”

  That jibe fell a little flat, part of the assembled groaning. Polanski shrugged then apologized, “Kids? Read up on your mythologies. When Pandora’s Box was opened, the only virtue left behind in it was… ” He extended open palms. “Ah, you already knew that. And Laura, I’m sure, has loaded her version with plenty more.”

  That got them back on his side, Loveland smiling sweetly at the compliment.”So you think you’ve got a sweeter box than mine?” she teased.

  He reached into a pocket of his coat and withdrew a two inch, blinking charm attached to a silver chain that he playfully began swinging in front of her eyes as if to hypnotize.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the house announcer began, “to explain the ground rules and make the coin flip, please welcome two time Sports Illustrated cover girl, Revlon spokeswoman, and premiering this March on Fox the star of Supermodel on the Prowl, not to mention our newest Prism Princess, Miss Stacey King!”

  The throng squealed its approval as she expertly runway-walked from the rear of the stage wearing a gorgeous black showgirl-type ensemble accented with intricately applied makeup containing the five other colors in the Prism logo. Reaching the pair, she nodded slightly to each of them in turn. “Nice to see you both again.”

  “Have we met before?” Loveland inquired.

  “Sure! Don’t you remember? At a party after the Grammy Awards?” She gave Polanski a sly look. “The one when you cleaned Andy’s clock?”

  The roar was deafening.

  “At least one of my clocks,” Polanski elaborated.

  Even more.

  “Maybe the two of you could discuss that between yourselves later,” King chided. “But that reminds me. Is it true that the two of you have some sort of a side bet regarding the Battle?”

  “It is, it is,” Loveland grinned. “Andy mentioned a couple of pieces of clothing… accessories you might say… that he always thought I’d look good in. I, in turn, could think of a few changes that would do wonders for his image.” She had to wait 15 seconds for the hooting to subside. “So the deal is that the winner gets her wish after she wins tonight… and right here on this very stage!”

  The bravos seemed to come from everywhere. Knowing Polanski’s predilections when it came to women’s wear, Spotswood figured he knew what the choices were.

  “But before a winner is announced,” King said into the camera, “we need to go through the details previously agreed to by the competitors. Each band will perform seven songs, alternating one to one until the sets are completed. Each group will be required to perform one acoustic number, one novelty song from 1964 and one additional cover of either a song from the 1980s or a tune from the opposition’s catalogue. There is the option to play a medley of two songs which will count as one of the required seven songs as will an acoustic rendering of one of the pair of covers.” She shook her head in wonder and looked to the seats. “Are you all with me up to this point?”

  They voiced their approval.

  “But wait! There’s more!” she continued, displaying an index finger. “Both groups have the option of bringing out three additional backing musicians for only one number and each will have the option of calling for a single five minute timeout, but this must be done prior to performing the next song in their set. Following the fourteenth skirmish of the Battle, there will be a ten minute break to allow for the receipt and tabulating of the votes cast by the Oasis audience and those texting from across the planet.” She looked to the crowd again. “Y’all ready?”

  The fanfare seemed to literally rock the stage.

  “Then all we have to do now is decide the order of play,” King smiled, reaching to a tiny pocket in her outfit then displaying a gaming chip-sized disc, rotating it slowly. “The Prism logo is heads, the Standoff! board is tails. As determined earlier, CCBBA will give it a toss and Pandora’s Obsession will call.” She passed it across to Polanski. “Whenever the mood strikes your fancy.”

  He seemed about to reply but instead let it fly.

  “Tails!” Loveland shouted.

  The coin hit the stage, bounced once, then spun flat.

  “Heads it is,” King announced. “Andy, you have the choice of leading off or closing.”

  He crossed his arms then said, “The Alliance’ll go first.”

  King gestured to the sides of the stage. “Lady and gentleman? Please return to your corners.”

  “I’ve still got something to finish here, Stace,” Polanski said. “Laura showed me hers.”

  “S’pose that’d be fair.”

  Turning to the audience, he raised a finger to his lips. “Shhhhhhh.” Then pointing the charm toward the cube he added, “P-A-S. B one-oh-one. Bam! The future of rock and roll.”

  In a few seconds a soft whirring reminiscent of a jet engine ramping up emanated from the block, slowly rising in both pitch and volume. Then the bottom half of the facing plate fell forward displaying a massive circuit board, thousands of tiny LEDs coursing across it as if tracking electrical currents. Suddenly the whine was replaced with snapping noises as if a series of door slide locks were being unlatched. A keyboard labeled Rhodes rose vertically from behind the top half of the facing plate, rotated a few times then went horizontal, coming to rest as the left-side plate fell with a thump to the floor. Then a second keyboard marked Multiplex made its appearance and repeated the sequence except ending up on the right.

  Seven more sets of electronic ivories followed, settling into a configuration of three stacked in the center and two each at forty-five degree angles on the left and right, along with the thirds designated Fender and Yamaha remaining perpendicular to the others. Finally, a sleek, high-backed black leather cockpit chair angled up from behind bearing the silver letters PAS on the headrest and a pair of silver crisscrossed shouldered seatbelts.

  The ovation was the loudest of the evening as most everybody jumped to their feet.

  Loveland looked like she’d seen a ghost, unable to take her eyes off the monster as Polanski smiled then calmly strolled away.

  “Connie? I’m speechless.”

  “According to the spec sheet that just came up on my monitor, we have just witnessed the debut of the Polanski Attack System by Fender-Yamaha. Only three of them have been constructed, two in Andy’s possession and a third retained by the manufacturers. The nine discreet keyboards designated Multiplex, Rhodes, Hammond, Mozart, Splash, Blackbird, Strato, Fender and Yamaha can perfectly mimic over 1700 instruments individually or in combination and can be arranged in 362, 888 configurations. It can be preprogrammed to set up for 99 full positions in advance while a voice command can instantly arrange the upper keyboards of the three stacks. Weighs 200 plus pounds more than a Steinway Model B grand piano. Though not currently available for purchase by the general public, in the late second quarter of the rapidly approaching new year, Fender-Yamaha will begin taking orders for sets of five, six or seven planned stock keyboard configurati
ons and custom orders for those comprising from five to nine units.” He took a deep breath. “But let me ask you two questions. That last phrase Polanski uttered. Something sounded familiar.”

  Spotswood chuckled. “Without a Pinkie Search, I’m pretty sure he was riffing on a line of dialogue from the movie Rain Man when Ray and Charlie Babbit were driving… Dustin Hoffman and Tom Cruise… driving in the convertible and Raymond started repeating a radio station ID.”

  “Yup. That’s it, garnering Oscars for Best Picture, Best Director, Hoffman’s… second Best Actor Trophy? And I think there was another one.”

  “Man, you’re good.”

  “Help me out on… was it cinematography?”

  “Best Screenplay. Not sure if original or adapted.”

  “Secondly, did you see the look on Laura Loveland’s face when that thing unfolded?”

  “I certainly did.”

  “Up to that point in the… I mean, Jip. She was visibly shaken.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” He paused. “Here’s a couple obs. First off, I was completely caught off guard by that particular reveal.” He thought of the diagram of the mechanism he’d mistaken for a building that he’d seen in the man’s kitchen. “How something like that could have been kept a secret for so… that instrument must have been years in the making and not a single peep as to its creation except for perhaps some amorphous reference to the actual name that I’ve seen or heard. But okay. The Alliance has scored a touchdown before the opening kickoff.”

  “Votes started being accepted as soon as the introductions began but the initial numbers won’t be shown until each group has completed its first song. I’ve got to believe that when they’re posted, CCBBA is going to have a substantial lead. More intriguing to me is having won the flip, Andy chose to lead off rather than taking the option of having the last word. You know him well, you’ve written thousands of words about him, you spent two solid weeks watching his every move. Any insights?’