The Hunt Chronicles: Volume 1

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The Hunt Chronicles: Volume 1 Page 10

by Leo Bonanno

“For you, Madam,” I said, ignoring him. Emily took the orchid by its stem and looked up at me. She opened her mouth to speak when someone’s cell phone went off. I was the only one in the room that didn’t reach into his pocket or purse, since I don’t have one to check. Emily opened her purse and dropped the orchid inside as she pulled out her own phone. Disappointment swept over me.

  “Yes?” Arnold said, holding the tiny phone up to his ear. “Excellent,” he said and hung up, folding the phone in half and placing it back in his breast pocket. “The food is here ladies and gentlemen. Why don’t you all set up while I give our guest the celebrity tour?”

  I followed Medley out of the boardroom and to the right. He produced a ring of keys that jingled loudly and echoed in the openness of the great room. Medley’s door eventually swung open and I followed him inside. “You’re just as funny as I thought you’d be, Mr. Hunt.”

  “Call me Reevan. Why do you say that? Don’t tell me you were one of my students back in the day.” Medley laughed as he got behind his desk. He outstretched his hand to a leather guest chair. I sat down and gazed around his magnificent office.

  The room reeked of class and sophistication from the Persian rug on the floor to the handcrafted set of wooden wind chimes hanging from the ceiling over his desk. Beautiful displays of art decorated the space; paintings, statues, even his desk set looked regal and distinguished. The chair in which I was sitting cushioned my hind-quarters like a leather slice of heaven. I could live in this room I thought to myself, and the small voice inside my head finally chimed in with No, you could die in this room. Reevan Hunt could die in this room, surrounded by the tastes of the world, and he’d have a smile on his face. It was a disturbing thought, though not untrue. I pushed it away and repeated my question. “Why do you say that?” The man sat down with a sigh and a grumble and looked at me from across a mammoth mahogany desk.

  “Murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner.” I stared at him, confused at first. He was looking off somewhere, above my head. My eyes glared as I thought of his statement, and then I realized it wasn’t his statement at all. It was mine.

  “You have an impeccable memory, Arnold. That article came out weeks ago.” He laughed again, and snapped one of his fingers to show how pleased he was with himself.

  “When a reporter asks an Average Joe on the street what he thinks of the murder of the richest man in an entire state, you expect something a bit more crass and uncut, but also useless and forgettable. When I read your reply, I couldn’t help but store it away for a rainy day.”

  “Actually, the reply wasn’t mine at all,” I said, and I saw a brief look of disappointment wipe over his face. “I borrowed it from Oscar Wilde. It just seemed appropriate.” His look of disappointment left his face just as soon as it had arrived. He smiled again and pointed at me.

  “The Picture of Dorian Gray!” He shouted, and a small sound escaped me in the excitement. Indeed he was right about the title, and everything else.

  “Good taste in art, quoting famous literary works; you are a fascinating person, Professor.” He looked at me then, tilting his head to one side and leaning back in his chair. Then he leaned forward and pointed at me again.

  “Knowledge is power!” He shouted.

  “Francis Bacon!” I retorted. He slapped his hands together and rocked back in his chair once more. My own heart raced with excitement, though anyone overhearing us would have thought we were just two old men going deaf, senile and crazy all at the same time.

  “Well done,” Arnold said, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I suggest you remember that one, Mr. Hunt. Truer words were never spoken.”

  “You can pick it up if you like,” he said.

  “Excuse me?” I said, startled. I hadn’t realized my mind had wondered.

  “You’re obviously admiring it. Take a closer look.” I leaned forward and picked up the small statue from his desk. As I did, its full weight became very apparent, and I had to get some help from my other hand just to get the golden rhino into my lap. I held it up to eye level admiring the craftsmanship. “It’s African. Not real gold, of course. Something not unlike fool’s gold.” It was clear the rhino was not real gold upon closer inspection. The metal from which it was crafted was wrong, duller somehow than actual gold. It was a fair sized piece though with amazing detail in its carvings.

  “The same there too, I suppose?” I asked, pointing to the golden giraffe still on the desk. The giraffe was slightly larger, again made with impeccable detail. I placed the rhino back on Arnold’s desk, behind the giraffe, facing a lamp off to the left. I had just let go of the Rhino when Arnold leaned forward and turned him around, now facing him to my right along with the giraffe. That rhino has a better view of the giraffe’s ass than the homeland Little Reevan said, and I smiled.

  “They prefer to look at the homeland,” he said with a chuckle. I looked to my right and saw a picture frame on the far end of Arnold’s desk. I leaned forward and saw the picture it held; a young man on the back of an elephant in full safari regalia. The photo looked aged, and I could only assume it was Arnold himself. I wanted to ask about it, but before I could, Arnold was out of his chair and around his desk. “Let’s get on with the tour, shall we?”

  We headed for his door when he stopped, backed up, and closed it slightly. A needlessly elegant coat rack stood regally in the corner behind the door. It was then that I noticed the only ugly thing in the entire room. It was a painting; a very old, dying tree with black roots sprouting out of the ground and dangling over the bank of a dried up stream. The other trees in the distance were dead; burdened with broken branches and splintered trunks. Dead birds and piles of ash and dirt littered the landscape. The one tree though, the focus of the whole picture, was clearly not dead but dying. It too had dead birds at its base and several broken and splintered branches, but on the highest branch remained a very shiny red apple with two green leaves sprouting from its stem; the last bit of life in a dead world. I leaned in closer and saw a scribble in the corner of the painting. The artists signature was illegible to me, which didn’t bother me since I had no intention of buying any of his ghastly work, but the title of the piece was quite clear. It was The End of Eden.

  A black overcoat hung from the rack’s highest arm. Arnold shoved it aside and pulled a blue sweater off one of the lower arms. He pulled open the office door as he put it on. “The botanical area gets chilly some nights. Dennis insists on leaving one of the windows open a crack. Says the stale air of the building can harm his plants.”

  “Funny,” I said, “I would have thought your man Dennis would prefer to let out his hot air.”

  “There aren’t enough windows in the building,” he replied, and we laughed as we walked.

  We veered to the right. We stood in front of the doors to the botanical area when Arnold reached for his keys again. “It’s open,” I blurted out. Arnold looked at me and smiled, then tried the doorknob, and pushed open the door. He then pulled it closed again and locked it.

  “Since you’ve already seen this room, I guess we can move on.”

  “Sorry if I stepped out of line with the orchid,” I said as we walked on towards the Mechanical Sciences area, passing the large fountain on our left.

  “Not to worry,” Arnold said, then waved his hand at me. “I don’t care about plant life the way Dennis does. What he lacks in personality and social graces he makes up for in knowledge of root systems and photosynthesis. He wouldn’t have lasted this long if not for his skill with the flora and his obvious ass-kissing.” I burst into laughter. The man’s candor was awesome.

  “I was wondering if you noticed that,” I said.

  “It’s hard to miss. Dennis has been eyeing my job for years. He fully expects me to recommend him to Mayor Ruskin before I leave.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “The people of this town don’t donate their hard-earned money to this build
ing to have it pissed away by some political brown-noser. The donations have been slim enough as it is with the recent success of the Boyhan Science Center.”

  We arrived at the next set of doors and the ring of keys made another appearance. Arnold looked up at me and slid his bifocals down to the end of his nose, peering over them at me. “Did you also steal her some batteries?”

  “Didn’t need any, the orchid is solar powered,” I said with a chuckle. Arnold smiled and turned his attention back to the door. He fiddled with the keys, selected one, and unlocked the door. We both took a step forward, and then he stopped suddenly and turned back to me.

  “A tip for you before I forget.”

  “I’m all ears,” I said.

  “The orchid is a parasitic plant, did you know that?”

  “No,” I nodded and listened intently.

  “It grows while attached to another piece of plant life. It drains its host of nutrients as it the orchid grows, draining it of sustenance. When wooing a woman, any woman, it’s probably wise to avoid any gifts that encourage that kind of behavior…just a thought.”

  I could see why Leon’s department was so popular with children. It was very hands on. Buttons and switches and levers decorated the room, turning on lamps, fountains, and even small electronics, like a drain whose tracks ran around the entire room. “Teaches the kids about electricity,” Arnold said aloud, “closed circuits, open circuits, conduction, and so on.”

  Other displays lay about the room as well. A pulley was rigged up in one corner, as was a seesaw-like structure I assume was a fulcrum demonstration; both intended teach children that minimal force can get you great results.

  Drawings and diagrams covered the walls; everything from Electricity and You to Atom Anatomy. The room was filled with color and interest. “Leon has done a great job in here,” Arnold admitted. “I only wish he could do more.”

  “What’s stopping him?” I asked.

  “Politics, as usual,” Arnold explained. “This museum is owned by the Town of Pendleton, Reevan. As such, we’re supported solely on tax dollars and donations. Mayor Ruskin is up for re-election this year.” I shrugged. “The public cares about education and art, but it cares more about police cars and fire trucks. This town is no different than any other. Its officials are judged by the number of cop cars on the streets, not the number of orchids in our garden.

  “I had planned to give Leon more funding to expand his department, but Mayor Ruskin slashed my budget. No surprise, the fire department will be getting two new trucks and a gym in the north fire station next year.”

  “That’s a damn shame,” I said. “This town isn’t that big…how many trucks do we need?”

  “Just enough, Mr. Hunt. Just enough to secure a re-election. Maybe Leon will fare better next year, but I’ll be gone by then. I only hope my replacement notices his efforts as I do.”

  We left the Mechanical Sciences area with the customary jingle of the keys and click of a deadbolt. We crossed the great room, the main entrance now at my right. Two men in white tops came in as we passed, carrying trays of food. A third came in pushing a metal trolley. My mouth began to water.

  My eye caught that massive fountain again, and the chandelier that loomed over it. Again, both were stunning, yet wrong somehow. My mind went back to the golden rhino and giraffe on Arnold’s desk. The gold was wrong, somehow askew, just as Arnold had said. Unfortunately, the secrets behind the fountain and chandelier were not so obvious.

  “Human Sciences is next up!” Arnold said with a spring in his step. He turned to me after the door was opened, and his eyebrows slid up on his forehead. “Emily has done an excellent job in here, too.” Indeed she had.

  The room was the same as Leon’s as far as display. The content of course was totally different. Instead of batteries and buttons, there were skeletons and dummies. A life-size male model stood in the center of the room. Aside from his plastic see-through stomach and rubber skin, he was very authentic. Other dummies were scattered throughout the room, displaying various sections of human anatomy. A poster of the food pyramid hung on the far wall, and my mouth began to water again when I noticed it. A television sat on a wheeled stand in the far right corner. I hoped the videos the visitors watched were better than the uneducated dribble with which I grew up.

  “It’s funny,” I said to the open room. “I never knew Emily, I mean Dr. Sellars, worked here. She’s been my doctor for quite some time.”

  “Well, she’s here as a part-time volunteer.”

  “You mean she did all of this for free? All on her own time?” Arnold nodded and smiled. “How benevolent…” I said, trailing off.

  “I try my best,” a new voice said from behind me. I turned and saw Dr. Sellars in the doorway, wearing that stunning dress and a smile.

  “I had no idea you volunteered here,” I said as Arnold locked the door and we moved on towards the Animal Science exhibits.

  “I enjoy it,” Emily replied. “I’ve always been a big advocate of community service. I‘m sure I mentioned it before, but you‘re always so pre-occupied when I have you on the table.” She’s had you on her table, you dirty old man.

  “We have to get together one evening and discuss our charitable exploits.” There was an awkward silence then, and I saw Emily and Arnold share an uncomfortable glance. “Of course, with this place and your practice, I’m sure you’re busy. So, is this Animal Sciences?” I asked and quickly shoved my way past Arnold and into the room.

  I took a deep breath in an attempt to stifle my embarrassment, and began to walk deeper into the large room. At the center stood a large circular fish tank with a great assortment of aquatic life. Creatures of all colors and shapes danced in the clear water, seemingly excited by the late-night visitors.

  The rest of the room was semi-circular in shape, and filled with animal replications. To my right was a display of the animals of the sky. Mock seagulls and eagles and hawks were frozen in the painted blue sky of their display case. Above them all was a large pterodactyl. To my left were animals of the sea. Fish, crabs, eels and octopi littered the exhibit, again with colors as vibrant as their living counterparts in the center tank. Directly in front of me beyond the center tank, spread across the far arched wall, were the land animals. Three perfect environments were spread across the wall in seamless unison. A tropical rainforest housed frogs, lizards, and snakes. A frozen tundra homed a polar bear, a family of seals, an arctic fox, and a wooly mammoth that was beautifully painted on the back wall of the display. An outstretched Sahara boasted a lion and antelopes, and vultures in a large dead tree.

  Various other exhibits were scattered throughout the room, which seemed larger than the rest, no doubt due to the size of the massive stuffed animals. I turned around after I noticed I was still alone in the room to see Arnold and Emily having a heated discussion. I couldn’t hear it all; they had stepped out beyond the doorframe. I saw Emily’s finger come out and waggle in front of Arnold’s nose. He grabbed it and pushed it out of his face. “Well would you look at that!” I screamed, a little louder than I had intended. I rushed towards the door and slowly crouched to one knee. The two turned slowly towards me, Emily biting her lower lip.

  To the right of the door was a display of stuffed dogs, and to the left was a display of cats. “This girl here looks just like my Niki,” I said, pressing a phony smile to my lips. I pointed out the large brown dog towards the back of the group. “I’m sure the kids love this area too,” I said, and passed between Emily and Arnold hurriedly.

  It was then I screamed out to the empty great room “Hey Leon! How’re we doing with the grub?” Leon appeared in the doorway to the boardroom with a plastic spatula in one hand, a plastic serving spoon in the other. He shrugged his shoulders and bared his old man teeth, obviously embarrassed by my bellows. “Oh, it’s ready? Good!” the word echoed around the room. I looked back at the others and gestured for them to follow. Emily did as Arnold stayed behind to lock the door. “Everything alr
ight?” I asked as she came closer. Emily looked up at me and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a loud knock emanating from the main doors.

  We all stood perfectly still for what seemed like forever; just staring at the huge doors beyond the fountain, which now seemed like a loud gushing waterfall in the silent room. Arnold looked at us, and then turned back to the doors. Another set of knocks called out to us, these louder than the first.

  Arnold hustled to the main doors and opened one. A woman stepped in wearing a clean-cut brown pant-suit and high heels. She said nothing as Arnold glared at her. He then blinked a few times, as if waking up from a daydream, and shut the door behind her. Emily and I both walked forward to get a closer look at this mysterious new guest. I looked behind us to see Dennis and Carol standing in the doorway with Leon, still holding his utensils like two swords poised for battle against a Caesar salad. “Didn’t think you’d show, Ida,” Arnold said with a smile.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” the woman answered in a deep, sensual voice. Her tone then took a drastic change as she poked Arnold in the shoulder. She screamed “You rotten son-of-a-bitch!”

  Time seemed to freeze as it always does during awkward party moments. The water falling from the top of the fountain came to a standstill in mid-air. The music that was wafting from above had disappeared. The clangs and footsteps of the caterers were gone. There was just that moment…

  A woman’s loud guffaw brought me back. The water splashed into the fountain basin. The music danced down from the ceiling as the footsteps came and went. The woman, Ida he had called her, was laughing a raunchy laugh. Arnold seemed distant. He didn’t laugh right away, but then he joined her. He put an arm on her back and guided her towards us. Emily and I looked at each other, and then behind us towards Leon and the others. Leon shrugged, and a blob of dressing fell off the spoon he was still holding. We turned back to see Arnold and Ida standing in front of us.

 

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