by M. Alan Marr
“Ah, Donovan,” Dev says.
“All of your belongings have been brought over from the hotel, Mr. Caelestis.”
“Thank you for taking care of that.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Donovan replies, and then pulls an antique pocket watch on a long gold fob out of his vest pocket. “Eight o’clock, sir. Four hours ahead of the technical deadline.”
“You had my every confidence,” Dev says. “Donovan, this is Chaz Ronaldi. Chaz, this is Donovan, my interior designer.”
“Mr. Ronaldi.”
“Donovan.”
Donovan smiles, a bit nervously. “Well, Mr. Caelestis, it’s ready.” He hands an almost ceremonial key tied with a ribbon to Dev, then pushes open the large double doors in a slow flourish. Dev smiles at the grand reveal and enters the condo with Chaz. Donovan follows a few paces behind.
The foyer greets them with a beautifully illuminated, brightly colored Peter Max piece called Tsunami Sail. Walking onward into the living area, Chaz and Dev marvel at the absolute beauty of the room. Soft jazz plays throughout. The fireplace is lit and casting a lovely dynamic of light onto the highly polished woods, stainless steel, and glass. Perfect lighting. Just the right balance of artwork and accent pieces. A curvy plush pewter color sofa sweeps around the living room. The room itself is painted in shades of velveteen gray that create a dimension within the room. Comfortable, luxe, and with stylish masculinity. A large Alexander Calder print of three large round globes, one blue, one black, and one orange, hangs on the wall above the couch, lit with an indirect spotlight. The Marc Chagall resides over the fireplace, also expertly lit, without glare. Dev and Chaz are so astounded, it is difficult to focus on any one particular element or feature.
The living room looks out onto a large stone terrace, equipped with very stylish outdoor furniture. There are several fruit-bearing lemon trees in tall illuminated pots. An outdoor kitchen and herb garden has been added as well. Dev sets his leather bag on the floor next to a chair and looks around at the beautiful room. A mahogany cocktail bar is fully equipped with both glassware and liquor bottles. A bottle of champagne sits in an ice bucket with a single champagne glass. The dining room has a large, thick, clear glass top resting on two highly polished wood grain blocks with seating for ten. The large gourmet kitchen cabinets are stocked with dishes and kitchen wares. The breakfast nook sits within a solarium with doors also leading out to the terrace. While the boys are in the kitchen, Donovan quickly diverts to the bar and places a second champagne glass next to the first.
Donovan catches up to them as they move down the hall and into a wood-paneled and leather library. The library has a large antique wooden desk. Lighted bookshelves contain various books and trinkets. A button-tufted English leather couch and wingback leather chairs sit before the library fireplace. A cherry wood cocktail table with brandy service rounds out the library ensemble. Chaz notices Dev’s books have all been arranged on the shelves and now include Advances in Modern Medicine, Genetics, Agriculture, Real Estate Law, US History 1700-2000, GeoPolitics, and Fine Art of the Ages.
The bedrooms are all very tastefully decorated, the superior, of course, being the master bedroom, which is amazing. An elegant contemporary platform bed is set with a thick white comforter and plush linens, two comfortable upholstered chairs, highly polished dresser and end tables. The small table between the chairs has a lovely glass vase containing a single iris. A large Salvador Dali signed lithograph hangs on the bedroom wall.
The main hall has several framed portraits on one side, and a metal wall sculpture on the other.
“Wow, this is beautiful,” Chaz marvels.
“Outstanding,” Dev comments.
“Do you like it?” Donovan says, acting bashful, which irritates Chaz because it’s so fake.
“It’s perfect,” Dev replies. “Not at all bad for three weeks’ work.”
“You did all this in three weeks?” Chaz says incredulously.
Donovan replies to that question with slight disapproval. “I wasn’t give any more time.”
“Slave driver, huh?” Chaz says to Dev.
“A regular autocrat,” Dev replies with a smile. Dev is already headed down the hall, forgetting to look in the master bathroom or closets. There is so much to take in, it almost can’t be done at once. As they reenter the living room, Dev notices the second champagne glass.
“Gentlemen,” Donovan says, “I’ll leave you now to enjoy your new home.” Then he adds, “I’ll have the printed invoices for you tomorrow?”
“That’s fine.” Dev shows Donovan to the door and shakes his hand. “Thank you, Donovan. Beautiful work.”
“A pleasure sir.” Donovan produces his iPad and stylus for Dev’s signature. “Just one last item of business.”
“The bill,” Chaz calls out from the bar.
“I’m afraid so,” Donovan says confidently.
Dev glances over the electronic invoice and signs the pad.
“Thank you so much, sir.” Donovan smiles. “I hope you’re both comfortable.”
“Without a doubt.”
Donovan departs the penthouse and presses the elevator button. The doors open immediately. Chaz waits until he hears the elevator doors close. “I think Donovan is a little smitten with you.”
“I think he’s smitten with my credit card.”
“Probably so.”
Dev looks at Chaz and smiles. He holds his arms out. “Well, do you like it?”
“Are you kidding? This place is amazing!”
Dev walks to where Chaz is standing at the bar and picks up the bottle of champagne and looks at the label. “Shall we?”
“Absolutely.”
Dev looks at the wire and foil cap and realizes he doesn’t know exactly how to open it. Chaz possessively takes the bottle from him.
“A man celebrating his new home should never open his own champagne.”
Dev takes note on exactly how Chaz removes the foil, unwinds the wire cap, and twists and gently pulls the cork until it pops. Chaz pours. They toast. “To your new home.”
“And to new friends,” Dev adds.
“To new friends.”
They take their champagne out onto the terrace and gaze at the view. Dev looks deep into Chaz’s eyes and then takes a deep breath. “I may just stay here forever.”
“Not a bad place to stay,” Chaz agrees.
They finish the champagne and end up in the kitchen, where Chaz places the ice bucket in the sink. Dev’s stomach growls. “I’m hungry, how about you?”
“I’m always hungry,” Chaz says. “I should weigh three hundred pounds.”
“You mean like everyone else in this country?”
“Hey, hydrogenated fats are very delicious,” Chaz jokes.
“The obesity problem here is horrifying,” Dev says as he opens the large refrigerator, which is empty. He opens the freezer next to it, also empty. “Well . . . Donovan thought of almost everything.”
Chaz looks inside the cavernous, but completely empty fridge. “Hmm . . . Well, come on, there’s a great little dive down the street. Since you just spent the GDP of a small country on this place, I’ll buy us dinner.”
“What’s a dive?”
Chaz shakes his head. “It’s the exact opposite of this place.”
They sit in a small booth at the dive. The waitress delivers two plates of pancakes.
“I thought these were only for breakfast,” Dev says to Chaz.
Chaz laughs. “Not only.” He smiles. “They’re also good really late at night, or when you need a sugar fix . . . or if you just want to feel good inside.” Then he adds, “Grilled cheese is also good for that.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
“In fact, I know a great grilled cheese place, actually one of the food trucks. They have sort of a house special called the Ooey Gooey, and it is to die for.”
Dev looks perplexed. “Food to die for. That’s . . . ironic.”
“Isn’t it, tho
ugh?” Chaz grins and then explains. “The Ooey Gooey is made from two pieces of garlic bread with a thick slurry of cheddar and jack in the middle. When you bite into it, it’s like . . . nirvana. Grilled cheese nirvana.”
Chaz and Dev continue their bantering, laughing and smiling. Dev watches Chaz drenching his pancakes in syrup. “Is that customary?”
“What, the syrup?” Chaz laughs. “In my family it is.” He adds, “The pancake is merely a vehicle for the syrup. I’ve got a sweet tooth, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Dev picks up a strip of bacon and takes a sizable bite. “I love bacon.” He looks at Chaz and holds up the strip. “When I leave this Earth, I am taking a lifetime supply of bacon with me.”
“How Egyptian,” Chaz jokes, quoting a movie line. “Well, if you die before me, I’ll have Donovan design you a tasteful bacon repository so you and your rasher can be interred together.” They have a good laugh over that. When the waitress refills their water glasses, Dev orders more bacon.
Chaz shakes his head in disbelief. “So what’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”
Dev glances around. “I don’t know. I’ll probably speak to the law firm about that property in Alabama. They’re on the case, but it seems to be taking forever. The owners are apparently traveling in Europe, and the person watching their house is hesitant to provide any details.”
“Why don’t they just call them?”
“They’re apparently the last people on Earth who don’t have a cell phone.”
Chaz nods. “They’re old.”
“I don’t know their ages.”
“Trust me, they’re old.” Chaz laughs again. “So, no idea, then, when they’re coming back?”
“No. And at this point, it’s even questionable how long they’ve been away. Apparently, they travel extensively and are gone for months on end with little or no contact.”
“Must be nice to be them. But, I see how frustrating that is for you.”
“It is . . . frustrating. Meanwhile, I haven’t had much to do here except shop and observe people.”
“And read text books on exciting subjects like economics and radar tracking systems. And write incessantly in your laptop.”
“The books are just subjects I wanted to read up on,” Dev says. “The writing—well, I keep a journal of my experience here.”
MISSION TIME:
TWO MONTHS
Dev is fully settled into his penthouse. Amazingly, his style of living on Earth fairly resembles the off-duty life he enjoys back home. He is fully used to the ‘modern conveniences’ of Earth and even learned over time to drive better. Midtown is old hat to him now. He did have to use some of the advanced features of his computer system to foil a breach when he clicked on a piece of junk e-mail that tried to unleash a virus into his computer. Fortunately, his own software took care of it. When Dev mentioned it to Chaz, he learned about spam, phishing, and many of the common ways Internet thieves prey on people. Dev, his sense of moral outrage bristling, unleashed his own retribution for the computer virus on the source of the bogus e-mail, triggering the thief’s system to hack itself and route all the stolen monies back from whence they came. As a finishing touch, Dev had the thief’s system transmit all evidence of the illicit activities (and associates) to the proper authorities.
Dev spends most of his days conducting research and watching the news channels. It is abundantly clear this world remains a very dangerous place. Violence runs rampant in parts of almost every city. Drug addiction is pervasive in all walks of society. The daily news broadcasts are so disheartening, Dev is forced to wonder whether Earth residents are powerless to stop it, desensitized to the violence, or simply apathetic. This mission would quickly become unbearable were it not for Chaz and the positive influence he has had. Dev makes an important observation about himself: he spent his early life, from primary academics to earning his commission, focused on the goal. He always promised himself he’d make up for all the things he’s missed afterward. Then came life as a junior officer, where again, all of his energies were channeled into his duties. Dev finally realized a type of governing dynamic: when one goal is achieved, another presents itself. He further realized that goals move further and further downrange. Dev honed his skills, and advanced swiftly through the ranks, assuming more and more responsibility each step of the way, and allowed his personal life to fall to the wayside. This is an all too common story for professionals on Earth as well. The difference is, it took this very mission to Earth for Dev to finally figure it out. In two short months this extraordinary bond with Chaz only highlights that Dev may have devoted a little too much to his career.
Chaz followed a similar path, devoting a lot of time to his career, and, like Dev, has embraced their newfound friendship.
Dev spent the last three nights alone, while Chaz flies a four-day trip to Los Angeles and then Amsterdam. While Dev is able to add a lot of entries into his journal, he can’t help but notice the emptiness he now feels whenever Chaz is away. Tonight, Dev is camped out on his couch watching the movie Star Wars. He frowns upon hearing one of the early lines boasting about a certain ship’s speed.
“That’s not what a parsec is,” Dev says aloud and then turns off the movie. He gets up and walks out onto the large terrace and stares up at the stars. It’s late, and some of the lights of Atlanta are out, offering slightly better stargazing. There, up in the night sky, is his familiar neighborhood. He doesn’t consciously realize it, but when he looks up at the stars, he is able to return home, if only for a few minutes in his head. He is a bit homesick, but then remembers Chaz will be home tomorrow.
Chaz’s return flight from Amsterdam landed in ATL right on schedule. The elevator to Dev’s penthouse opens, and Chaz steps out carrying a small round tin. Dev is at the bar pouring two martinis from a cocktail shaker.
“Goedenmiddag.”
“What?”
“Good afternoon, in Dutch.”
“Ah, well, goedenmiddag to you.”
“You said that well,” Chaz says and then holds out the tin. “I brought you some stroopwafels.”
“What are they?”
“Stroopwafels—Syrup waffles. They’re very thin little waffles with a caramel syrup between them. Very tasty. Very addictive.”
“Thank you, Chaz. I can’t wait to try them.” He smiles and holds up his martini glass. “To new friends.”
Chaz looks kindly into Dev’s eyes. “That’s not right. You’re so much more than just a friend.”
Dev nods thoughtfully. “I know.”
Later that night, Chaz and Dev are on the couch together watching a program about housewives on the television. The tin of stroopwafels is almost empty.
“I don’t understand. What is it these women do?”
“You haven’t seen this?” Chaz says. “Well, all of these women are married to wealthy men. And I suppose one or two have their own careers as well. They have a film crew following them around, and all the drama makes it onto the TV.”
“Are there any redeeming qualities?”
“None that I can see.”
“They seem to behave as though they’re not accustomed to their financial standing.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Chaz says, not defensively but not exactly innocently either.
Dev picks up on this immediately. “I’ve offended you.”
“No, you haven’t,” Chaz says. “Honestly.”
“Then what is it?”
“It isn’t you,” Chaz says. “These shows actually piss me off. Here are a bunch of self-righteous rich people who behave like spoiled children. It makes me wonder if they have any real appreciation for the things they have.”
“I’m sure part of it is performance for the media.”
“No doubt,” Chaz agrees. “But I think how hard I’ve worked all my life. I’m finally making decent money, and I’m glad for that. It just makes me mad when I see people who don’t appreciate what they’ve got.”
Dev l
oses himself in thought. “You know . . . I’ve never had anyone to share my life with. You make me feel like I am something wonderful.”
“You are wonderful.”
“I’ve never experienced that feeling until I came to . . . Atlanta.”
“You’ve never dated?”
“Not really. I never seem to have the time. How did you manage?”
“Ugh, I dated badly.”
Later, they are watching the movie Twilight, introducing Dev to the concept of vampires, a creature no one on his world has ever heard of. After the movie, the two are very pleased. Pleased with the film, and extremely pleased with the company.
“So what did you do while I was in the Netherlands?”
“I thought you were in Amsterdam.”
“Uh, yeah, that’s the Netherlands.”
“Oh. Not much going on here. Still nothing from the lawyers. The last few days were pretty boring. I did manage to go to the museum without getting shot at.” Dev gets up and goes to the kitchen. “And I did some shopping.”
“There are worse pastimes than shopping.” Chaz looks at Dev’s laptop, sitting on the coffee table, still running the cosmos program. “Ah, the planets again.”
“Are they still turning?” Dev calls out from the kitchen.
“I believe so,” Chaz answers back, looking at the screen.
Dev returns with a plate of cheeses. “Would you like some water?”
“Love some.”
While Dev fetches a bottle of water from the bar chiller, Chaz looks at the artwork on the walls and eventually looks back at the computer screen still running the cosmos program. What’s different on this display is the thin dashed line from Earth outward, showing the last outbound communication. Dev brings the waters and they toast.
“What’s with the dashed line on this?” Chaz says. “That’s new.”
Dev is impressed with Chaz’s powers of observation. “The program calculates the optimal conditions for outbound trajectories. You see, spacecraft, radio telescopes, and transmitters of any sort are all bound by particle fronts and distortion phenomena that clutter any signal or trajectory.”