Stewart Traber had gone through two wives and innumerable lovers during his one term in office and in the years after he was soundly defeated in his re-election bid. With his flowing, silvery hair combed back and his perpetual tan, frequently applied artificially, he could easily pass as an aging, debonair Hollywood star who still had a finite amount of cachet. But Traber knew that his “fountain of youth” was running dry and he dreaded the arid future that lay beyond.
His latest ex-wife, Claudia Brentworth, an accomplished equestrian, was so anxious to get a divorce that she gave him the horse farm and moved to Virginia where her parents still kept stables on their sprawling estate. The two horses she left behind were broken down hags who she felt were a fitting tribute not only to their marriage but also to her ex-husband. She had even made some caustic comment after the final settlement, opining that he could now gaze on four-legged versions of his future self.
Traber was pulled from his bitter reflections as the frolicsome Natalie pranced into the room, her bathrobe opened invitingly and her luscious lips slightly puckered. The last time she kissed him, actually clamping down on his mouth like a devouring sea lamprey, he feared that she might suck out his false teeth in her passionate zeal. Envisioning that scene, he knew this latest flirtation had to end.
Traber sighed and Natalie pouted, her eyes arched inquisitively. Traber decided that one last romp with this untamed filly was worth the risk before he sent her out to pasture.
***
During his first campaign and then his only term as Governor, all Stewart Traber had to say to one of his aides was “stew stew” and he would have a “date” for the evening. The phrase derived from his penchant for airline stewardesses but exceptions were regularly made. One of his lackeys suggested that they just had to find any broad wearing a uniform, even a meter maid, and the Governor would be content for the evening.
The only subordinate who refused to accommodate his sexual dalliances back then was his head of security, the late Capt. Billy Meacham, Sr. For his recalcitrance, he was sent back to the Parlor City police department by the Governor’s close political operative, then Mayor Wattle. It amused Traber to think that it was Meacham’s son who, years later, was instrumental in exposing malfeasance at the Parlor City Institute and bringing down Wattle in the process, forcing his to resign from office.
Wattle was a sly operator and Traber was not surprised that he had avoided taking the big fall. He had always been a “cash and carry” guy and Traber was sure that he had squirrelled away considerable funds during his long tenure in office. Traber had not paid a visit to his former ally in some time but had heard reports about Wattle’s lavish lakeside spread. Short of cash since his latest divorce, Traber concluded that he could use Wattle’s aid with a scheme that could make both of them a considerable amount of money. It damaged his pride to be once more reaching out to the Mayor but with Braun incapacitated, the Governor felt that he had no choice.
***
When he saw Wattle’s lake cottage, Traber was impressed, concluding that the ex-Mayor had thrust his hand deeper in the honey pot that even he could have guessed. It also made him wonder if Wattle had dipped into the governor’s campaign coffers as well but quickly put that troublesome thought aside. It was certainly no time for such speculation.
As Wattle told him about their imminent Florida vacation, Traber sat quietly and smiled politely as he tried to envision the ex-mayor’s wife sunning herself like some leathery beached whale, happy that she was not in the room to reinforce the disturbing image.
Traber finally got around to telling Wattle how Woodrow Braun had come to him after he left office, looking for help on a land deal, hoping that he still had some useful political connections. As it turned out, Traber had a few favors owed to him, including one by the state roads commissioner. After some bickering about the amount of the pay-offs, the commissioner made sure that the location for a certain exit ramp off a new highway was selected which abutted property recently purchased by Braun. When the road construction project was announced, Braun’s plot dramatically increased in value and he flipped it to a developer. Everyone made out handsomely – except Adelbert Wattle.
In return for his efforts, Braun made Traber his partner with respect to the disposal of the German bonds. Originally, each of them had matching keys to the safety deposit where the bonds were housed. With Braun lying semi-comatose in a bed at the Parlor City Institute and Traber now in possession of both keys, the Governor bragged to Wattle that he was now in sole control of the bonds.
“I can’t afford to have my fingerprints on these bonds, Adelbert. It could raise a number of uncomfortable questions” said Traber in the pompous tone he had used so effectively as Governor. “Nor I, Stewart, so let’s see what can be done if we work together,” said Wattle, raising his hand with the palm facing Traber. “We both have reasons to be discreet” he intoned.
When Wattle asked about the value of the bonds, he was surprised to learn that they were collectively worth close to a million dollars. Maintaining his stoic demeanor, Wattle said he might be able to help with their disposal with the understanding that he would replace Braun as Traber’s “full-fledged” partner. Traber hemmed and hawed before agreeing. “And the cousin, Governor?” Wattle asked. Traber looked perplexed but said nothing. Exasperated, Wattle finally asked, “So is it still the plan to pay him half which leaves us to split the remaining portion?”
Traber looked befuddled, having completely forgotten the payments due to Ludwig Von Braun. Wattle decided not to press him any further. “I’d like to examine the bonds, Governor, just to feel comfortable. I can make some discreet inquiries before I leave on vacation and then chew on this opportunity while in Florida – including what to do about the nephew. We will have ample time to finalize a plan upon my return. How does that sound?” said Wattle. Traber smiled weakly, secretly relieved to once more have Wattle at his side.
***
When Wattle described the meeting with Traber to his wife, she laughed scornfully. “Can you imagine him handling these bonds all by himself, Adelbert? He had no choice but to come to you. Why, that empty suit has no more brain power than Bobby Mildrake.”
The next day, the new partners went to the bank to examine the bonds. Wattle walked away convinced that they were genuine and confirmed that the redemption dates were indeed for 1956. That afternoon, Traber broke the news to Natalie that he had been called to Washington, DC for consultations with high government officials. She bought his story and after a little pouting, seemed as cheerful and carefree as ever. With her departure settled and the Wattles heading to Florida, Traber concluded that he had earned a little time in the sun. The secret arrangement with Woodrow Braun for doing nothing more than arranging the bribe of the highway commissioner, was going to turn out sweeter than he had imagined.
And now, what better place to celebrate his pending good fortune than his favorite sin city to the south – Havana, Cuba.
CHAPTER FIVE
Boys Eavesdropping
Jerry Kosinsky was sitting across from Woody Braun on the Meacham’s living room floor. The 13-year old best friends were playing Parcheesi while Gwen and Billy were sitting on the couch rehashing the day’s events.
“It was weird, Billy”, Gwen said softly, mindful that the boys were only a few feet away. “Mr. Braun was thrashing around on his bed, almost to the point that he had to be restrained. The attending nurse called me in then walked off, leaving me with one of the orderlies in case I needed assistance. When I approached the bed, he lurched at me with wild, bulging eyes – but it was as if he was staring right through me. I was distracted when he tried to grab my arms and then he said something like, “tell him to get me the German bear bonds.” Before I could ask him what he meant, he muttered pretty much the same thing, then slumped back and closed his eyes.”
Ever inquisitive, Jerry’s ears perked up to catch the adult conversation as he stared vacantly at the game board. “C’mon, space cad
et, your turn”, Woody said impatiently.
Meacham raised his eyebrows and turned his eyes toward the boys but said nothing. Gwen blushed slightly and pursed her lips. Recovering quickly, she said rather loudly and trying to sound mischievous, “I saw Dickie Conklin driving your sports car today, Billy. Does that give you any heart pangs about selling it?”
“No pangs at all, Bridey. I had my fun, although I guess if I had my druthers, Wattle’s son-in-law wouldn’t have been the one to purchase it”, Meacham said with a chuckle, admiring Gwen’s deft turn of the conversation. Meacham was thinking about Braun’s outburst and wondered if it was just the insignificant ravings of an unstable patient.
***
“Did you get catch that, Woody?” Jerry asked. The boys were in Woody’s room, sifting through a shoebox full of baseball cards, looking for a duplicate of Moose Skowron. “I can’t believe Danny Ross is willing to pay $1.00 for this guy”, said Woody as he rifled through piles of cards, ignoring Jerry’s comment.
“Okay, I know I heard something like German bear bonds and then your Mother quickly changed the subject. That means we heard something that wasn’t meant for our ears” Jerry said forcefully, staring at Woody and hoping to get a reaction.
“Aha, I knew I had two of the Moose” said Woody, gleefully as he inspected the edges for damage. Woody looked over at Jerry who was still glaring. “What, Jer?”
“Oh, never mind. My dad was in Germany during the war. He never talks about it but maybe he can help. But first, I’m going to the library to do a little research of my own”. When Woody heard the word library, he looked at Jerry and lifted his hand to his mouth to stifle a fake yawn.
CHAPTER SIX
In Jerry’s Basement
Jerry Kosinsky crept slowly down the cellar stairs, far enough to see his Father reach behind a pipe next to the coal bin and pull out a key. He unlocked the door to his workroom as quietly as if he was arriving at church late and was fearful of drawing the attention of the congregation before he could stealthily slide into a pew in the back.
Jerry sat patiently on the stairs and, after a few minutes, he heard muffled sounds coming from the workroom. He strained to decipher what sounded like static which lasted for a few seconds before everything went quiet. Growing impatient, Jerry finally saw the door start to open. As he watched his Father replace the key in its hiding place, he quickly scampered up the stairs, vowing to enter the workroom at the first opportunity.
***
“You need to get over here now, Woody. My Mother is out shopping and you are about to experience the most glorious surprise of your young life. I will say no more except that you are going to wig out!” Jerry hung up abruptly and there was something in his voice that would have prevented Woody from asking any questions. He was on his bike within minutes, pedaling furiously to Jerry’s house.
***
There she was, a glowing naked seductress on red velvet with one arm stretched up and over the left side of her face, the eyes nearly closed but suggestive, the lips parted in a way that implied that she was in ecstasy just lying there. The ringlets of blonde hair spread softly across the velvet in absolute splendor.
The boys stared silently, captivated and mesmerized as if in tribute to some ineffable, breath-taking achievement that was beyond their naïve comprehension and of which they were unworthy. They dared not look at each other, trembling with a heretofore unknown excitement that was alien to them. They had heard stories but were still having trouble reconciling the Marilyn Monroe whose picture was in the newspaper - fully-clothed and certainly pretty in a normal kind of way – with the naked goddess before them.
Then, the hypnotic trance was broken by the shrill voice of Priscilla at the top of the stairs. “You are not in Papa’s workroom, are you big brother?” she barked, mimicking her Mother’s tone to perfection.
Startled, Jerry grabbed the calendar and stuffed it into the top drawer of the workbench. He then motioned for Woody to step softly out of the room into the hallway before he closed and locked the door.
Having regained his composure, Jerry yelled “My my, aren’t we the omnipresent, vexatious little spy. Nothing better to do, Prissy? We were just looking for a wrench to fix Woody’s bike – go ahead and report that, ok?” As he spoke with mock ferocity, Jerry was grinning at Woody and replacing the key.
Imitating her Mother, Priscilla posed unfazed with her hands on her hips as the boys pushed past her on the stairs. They were still aglow with a new vision of paradise and didn’t even seem to see her.
“Neatly done, Jer, but what did you call her? You’re not starting that vocabulary game again, are you?” asked Woody dejectedly. “Nah, sometimes words just spill out of me and I don’t even know where they come from”, Jerry said as he shrugged his shoulders.
***
Sitting on Jerry’s bed, the boys were silently fiddling with their fingers, still in a state of speechless euphoria, when Woody, perhaps emboldened by the reverie he had just experienced downstairs, blurted out, “Jer, I think it’s about time we went to the movies - on a double date!”
***
Woody chose the pristine, demure Millicent “Milly” Coyle, the epitome of 7th grade decorum at Parlor City Junior High School. Millie was cute, soft, proper, and exuded angelic purity. He actually felt a little guilty even thinking about her after ogling the nude goddess on red velvet.
Jerry frowned when he heard Woody’s choice but said nothing. His choice was Candace “Candy” Porfumo, a hot number ripe beyond her 13 years and possessed of a caustic tongue. Candy was a coquette and a tease, certainly not a beauty but Jerry liked almost everything else about her. “I just hope her face isn’t acting up, Woody. When she piles on that brown cream if she breaks out, her face is the color of a pancake.” Unlikely as it seemed, Millie and Candy were best friends and the boys agreed it was inevitable that they would sink or swim together.
After flipping a coin, Jerry was stuck with making the first call and Woody sighed with relief. Three times in a row Jerry dialed Candy’s number and immediately hung up. “No answer, Woody, your turn” Jerry shrugged, feigning disappointment. “Nice try, Jer. You gotta let it ring at least five times before you hang up,” Woody said, “and you have to actually talk to her”.
Jerry cleared his throat and swallowed hard as Woody moved in close to monitor his friend’s effort. Suddenly, Candy Porfumo’s voice could be heard saying hello. Jerry hesitated before trying out his deepest baritone voice, “Sorry Ma’am, wrong number” before quickly hanging up. Woody looked at Jerry in astonishment and then broke out laughing. “Let’s see how you do, Mr. Smoothie,” said Jerry, his face a deep shade of red as he looked away.
“Nope, not until you actually talk to her, Jer. That’s the deal” said Woody firmly with his hands up by his head as if to say he was helpless to bail his friend out. “Okay, but I need a break,” said Jerry. “Let’s ride bikes!”
***
Later that afternoon, Jerry got up his courage and called Candy and didn’t hang up. In fact, she answered the phone after a half ring, as if anticipating the call. “What do you want, Gerard! Was that you who called earlier disguising your voice?” she demanded. “Indeed not, Candace, I am sorry you were bothered by some prankster” said Jerry, who had regained his confidence and composure. If she was going to call him Gerard, then he was going to call her Candace. Woody stood a few feet away with both hands on his mouth, working hard to stifle his laughter.
After some small talk, Jerry blurted out his request and Candy quickly accepted with a “Sure, why not?” When Jerry suggested a double date, Candy barked, “Of course. I assumed that was understood before you called. So, is Woody going to ask Millie or do I have to take care of it?” When Jerry mumbled, Candy jumped in quickly. “Put him on the phone, Jerry. Millie is here. I asked her to come over after you called earlier so don’t bother denying it anymore, okay?” Jerry smiled sheepishly and Woody gulped as the phone was handed to him. By now, the hard work h
ad been done and all Woody could remember afterwards was the heavenly words ringing in his ears “I’d be delighted, Woody, but just need to get permission first.”
After hanging up the phone, Woody looked at Jerry with a puzzled expression and asked, “How did they seem to know everything, Jerry?” “Women, Woody, they have special powers which we will never comprehend. Don’t waste your time. Hey, we got dates for the movies, right?” Jerry said with a self-satisfied shrug, as if he had just explained the inexplicable.
Feeling victorious, the boys laughed and wrestled each other to the floor.
CHAPTER SEVEN
At the Movies
Woody’s Mother smiled when she heard about the movie double date and was especially pleased to learn that her son’s choice was Millie Coyle. Still, she felt a slight pang when she realized that her boy might actually be looking at girls in a romantic way. Gwen Meacham wouldn’t interfere but perhaps might give her son a few tips on proper decorum when in the company of a sweet young girl like Millicent. Woody’s date made her think of the actress Grace Kelly, considered America’s Princess by many, getting ready to marry that real Prince over in Monaco.
She certainly would have been in shock had she seen the boys gazing at the naked goddess who had been their motivation. Billy had mentioned off-handedly one day that he had seen some of the officers with a deck of playing cards at the station adorned with the nude image of Marilyn Monroe and, of course, everyone had heard about the calendar. Gwen was not naïve or priggish but she would have been shocked to learn that the diffident Arthur Kosinsky had a copy of the calendar hidden in his workshop.
***
Mrs. Kosinsky glared fiercely at Jerry as if she had actually caught him ogling the Marilyn Monroe calendar. “A date for the movies?” she fumed, “without checking with me first?”, as if Jerry had gone off and eloped. Jerry looked sheepish, having learned long ago that it was the best pose when confronted with his Mother’s hyperbole. What really bothered Mrs. Kosinsky but which she was constrained from articulating, was Jerry’s choice of Candy Porfumo. She had heard the gossip about the promiscuous behavior of Candy’s older sisters. Word would certainly get out about Jerry’s movie date with that little tart and she would have to deal with the fallout at the garden club.
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