Simon's Mansion

by William Poe

  “Irene’s an ice queen,” Thad was saying as Simon listened at the top of the stairs. “I don’t think she once looked me in the eyes. I was nothing but a pony in her stable. Anyway, one of the times they didn’t think I understood their Spanish, Irene laughed in a shrill voice and asked David if he had sent the video to Seeblee. Her pronunciation was so bad, I wasn’t sure I understood correctly, not until David laughed in a voice as creepy as his wife’s and confirmed that El Amigo Rico was on its way.”

  “Holy shit!” Charlotte shouted. “You’re saying that they had Simon’s address in Arkansas?”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Thad said.

  Charlotte glanced at the glass forming the wall beside the front door if expecting to see figures beyond the opaque murkiness.

  “Since the authorities confronted them, they’ll lie low,” Thad mused. “I just hope they got their revenge with the video and they’ll leave us alone after this.”

  Simon didn’t want to enter into the conversation between Thad and Charlotte, so he returned to the bedroom, followed shortly by Thad, who kissed Simon on the back of his neck and sighed as he pulled up the covers, placing his arm around Simon in a tight embrace.

  “What might have happened if we hadn’t rescued you?” Simon asked.

  “They figured they owned me, paid for me with the money they sent without getting the films they expected. I’m not sure how many movies they wanted to put me in, but more than just the one, I’m sure of that. I wish I could have found a way to get a message to you. Twiggy was catching on that I wanted to tell him something, but then he got busy, and the bodyguard wasn’t about to let me get his attention again after he realized what I was up to. The bar was busy that night. We stayed just long enough for you to hear about me being there with Felipe.”

  “You must have been scared when they took you to Spain.”

  “Felipe kept me from going nuts. He’s a funny guy. He made me believe that everything would work out. He said he prayed that everything would work out, which seemed crazy—pray? And then get fucked for money?—but his faith put him a positive frame of mind. It was like he separated who he was in his mind from what he did with his body.”

  “Do you really think they’ll be satisfied with the one video? That it evens the score?”

  “I don’t know, Simon. I’m more worried about the way we embarrassed them at MIFED.”

  “I have to ask you something.”

  “You thought I’d been seduced into making porn, didn’t you?”

  “When I saw El Amigo Rico, I wasn’t sure what to think. I saw fear in your eyes, and then there was the photo of us, but you and Felipe didn’t seem to be acting.”

  Thad couldn’t address Simon’s suspicion, so he merely said, “I was acting in the scene with Emilio, trust me.”

  “I can’t get the image out of my head.”

  “Emilio found the picture of us in my room at Howard’s,” Thad continued. “He’s the one who placed it on the headboard so it would be in the video.”

  “But it could have been your way of telling me our relationship was over.”

  “I’m not in love with Felipe, Simon. I know that’s what you’re worried about. But if Felipe hadn’t been kind to me, I would have tried to run, and that bodyguard—Alfonso the Merciless, I called him—would have shot me in the back or something.”

  “I have a confession to make, Thad. The scene with you and Felipe in the room with Emilio was staged as a reenactment of what happened when I was in Barcelona and made the deal with them.”

  “I know. Felipe thought I didn’t, but I heard him talking to Emilio when the scene was being planned. Do you honestly think I would have let them do that—what, as a way of telling you we were breaking up or something? You know that’s not me. I would just have told you. I’m not a tricky person like that. You know I’m not.”

  “Dean tried to assure me; he saw the fear in your eyes.”

  “Emilio sometimes laughed off the fact that you stole their money—nickels and dimes, he would say—but David always shot back with remarks about honor and revenge. Irene would nod, spewing words in Catalan that I couldn’t understand.”

  “We can only hope they forget about us.”

  “What about Charlotte?” Thad asked. “What’s up with the two of you? Did she return the money or something? I can’t believe she’s living in our place!”

  “Long story. She contacted my clients, telling them she’d bought the business. She started with Wally, whom I called after leaving rehab. He would only allow me to represent the films in the original contract, saying he had made arrangements for the new ones, but he never gave me a hint the arrangement was with Charlotte. Charlotte has been keeping tabs on me through Wally. I had no idea.”

  “And you’re okay with all this? What about Rudy? Don’t tell me he’s your friend again.”

  “He’s back at the Spotlight, in like Flynn with Don. Rudy and Charlotte had a falling out, so Rudy spilled the beans about Wally to Don. That’s what set things in motion that led to working with Charlotte to rescue you.”

  “She ought to give back the money.”

  “Maybe, over time. Charlotte and I agreed that after I finish college, if I want to come back to Los Angeles, we can stay here in Silverlake. Quite a reversal of fortune, isn’t it?”

  “Well, maybe a transfer of fortune. She still stole from you. I’ve never seen you so forgiving. Anyway, I miss Vivian. I even miss watching soaps with your sister.”

  “And Cicero misses you.”

  Thad puckered his face and snorted, imitating an excited Cicero.

  “Cicero’s with Connie. Cheryl is dropping by to feed Ferdinand. Vivian had another stroke, and we had to put her in a nursing home. We’ll go visit when we get back to Sibley—you will go with me, right?”

  Thad held Simon close. “The mansion, the goat, Cicero, even that haunted graveyard across the street—can you believe that I really do miss it?”

  Simon thought for a moment about how he felt toward the Sibley mansion, about its legends, his mysterious aunt Opal, the childhood adventures of Simon and Ernie. The mansion and the lands surrounding it were as much a part of him as his arms and legs.

  “That mansion is my Valhalla, Thad, a fortress against the darkness. It’s my bond with the past as much as Vivian is my tether to the present.”

  “Let’s hope the devil got his due, and we can live happily ever after,” Thad whispered.

  “Listen to you.” Simon took Thad’s hand. “The devil his due. You’ve been around me too long.”

  “I hope it is forever, Simon. Get that video out of your mind. Forget Felipe. You’re the only person I want.”

  There was a gentle knock at the door. “Simon, if you’re awake, can you answer?” Charlotte spoke in a subdued but urgent voice. “I need to tell you something.”

  Simon and Thad both got up, dressed, and joined Charlotte downstairs.

  “This is so weird,” Charlotte began. “I just got off the phone with Wally. By the way, he said to tell you that he’s relieved he doesn’t have to pretend any longer.”

  “I’m surprised he was able to keep your secret as long as he did.”

  “I can be persuasive,” Charlotte said, flashing a sexy smile. She seemed refreshed after doing her hair and putting on makeup.

  “What is that lipstick you’re wearing? I love the color.”

  “What do you mean?” Charlotte demurred. “I’m au naturel today.”

  “Okay, but there’s a tube of lipstick beside your purse there on the end table.”

  Charlotte scooped up the cosmetics and closed her handbag.

  “What were you going to say, Charlotte? What’s so weird?”

  “It’s that Howard fellow.”

  “What’s up with Howard?”

  “He’s dead. Two days ago.”

  Simon backed toward a chair and sat down. “Oh my God. Foul play?”

  Thad’s complexion grew ashen as he steadied hims
elf against the bar and sat on a stool.

  “I asked Wally the same thing. Wally said the police raided the Chatsworth studio. Someone tipped them off about an underaged actor.”

  “Howard knew he’d screwed up when he accepted that fake ID,” Thad interjected.

  “Did Wally know anything more about what happened?” Simon asked.

  “Evidently, Howard was drunk when the cops served the warrant. He pulled a gun from his desk drawer, and a rookie cop shot him in the head.”

  “Holy shit,” Thad blurted out.

  “Maybe this will send a message to Emilio, David, and Irene that they better not fool around with American police,” Simon said hopefully.

  “Can we hit the road to Sibley? Like, today?” Thad asked.

  “Don’t you want to visit Scott or Sandra or drop by to let Twiggy and Don know we’re okay?”

  “No. I just want to get the fuck out of town.”

  “I have to agree. I’m getting nervous.”

  “You’re going to abandon me, just like that?” Charlotte complained. “With all that’s going on?”

  “Maybe we’ve met the end of our trouble, Charlotte, and I’ve barely got enough money for the drive back to Arkansas. Emilio, David, and Irene will return to Barcelona after MIFED, and they’ll have new contracts to manage. Can what happened with Thad and Felipe matter so much? It should be obvious we’re more trouble than we’re worth.”

  “You think I’m safe, really safe?” Charlotte implored. “I’m not sure I can forget the last few days.”

  “Maybe one of your hunky boyfriends can stay with you.”

  “I guess you’re right. But I keep seeing Emilio’s eyes when the police showed up—so much anger. And the other fellow, David, he looked like a rattlesnake coiled and ready to strike. And that woman, Irene. Good God, she’s Medusa with that stare of hers.”

  “They’re not here now,” Simon said consolingly, as much for himself as Charlotte. “Forget them.”

  “I hate this,” Charlotte moaned. “We interfered with their business at MIFED and made off with Felipe and Thad. They know who I am and that I’m involved.”

  “What would you have us do, Charlotte? You can move to a different place. I am joined to Sibley and the mansion until death do us part.”

  “It’s just a building,” Thad said. “You’re not married to the place.”

  “I feel like I am.”

  “Damn it, Simon. It’s just a house.”

  “Someday I want my portrait to hang in the gallery.” Simon surprised himself with the statements; most of his life he had professed disgust with Sibley. “I want to be one of the ghosts that haunt the place. A hundred years from now, someone will look at my picture and wonder about my story.”

  Thad laughed. “My God, Simon. You said the right word, ghost. Let’s make a life together, whether it’s at the mansion, Los Angeles, New York, or wherever you want to live. I don’t care, as long as we’re together.”

  “Being kidnapped seems to have matured you,” Simon noted with a gleam in his eye.

  “Being forced to have sex to keep from ending up on a Spanish garbage heap or buried at sea makes a person think about what matters.”

  “Been a trip, guys,” Charlotte interrupted. “But my moment of fear has passed. I’m not letting those assholes get the better of me.” She did a mock pole dance against the bar. “I’ll be damned if those nasty people from Spain are going to take anything from me. I’m not moving out of here, and I’m not giving up Chanteuse Film Distributors.”

  “You’ve got spunk. You’ll be fine,” Simon reassured.

  “Okay, you guys, get more rest, hit the road, whatever. I’m going into Hollywood. I’ll drop by the Spotlight and let Don and Twiggy know you’re safe and that you’re back together. I’m going to confront Rudy. And now I have juicy gossip about Howard being shot to spread around.”

  When Charlotte left, Simon suggested they start on their journey, knowing they’d be unable to sleep. Thad agreed.

  “Good-bye, Silverlake house!” Simon said as he closed the tall front door.

  “It was strange to see Charlotte living there.”

  “Treat Charlotte well,” Simon told the house.

  “You are so weird.”

  Thad fell asleep in the passenger seat before they made it to the Hollywood Freeway. Simon, uncannily alert, set their sights eastward—to Sibley.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Thad checked every room in the mansion, frantic to assure himself that no one lay in wait, no hitmen lay ready to attack, not in the upstairs rooms, the basement, or the attic. Simon was less concerned about bad guys than about making sure his paintings were safe and Ferdinand was fed. Cheryl had done an excellent job; Ferdinand’s trough was full of alfalfa pellets, and the washtub overflowed with fresh water. The paintings had survived a wooden door being blown open in the hayloft, caused by winds during recent heavy rainfall, Simon surmised, judging by the level to which the pond water had risen, high enough to cover the flat rock where the green turtles sunned themselves. The roof made it through the storm unscathed, a fact Simon appreciated not only because his paintings were dry, but because he dreaded climbing into the rafters where the resident bats would soon return from their nightly foraging, dawn just breaking through the spindly top limbs of the nearby cypress trees.

  Simon made iced tea, a welcome change from the bitter roadside coffee that had sustained them during the long drive from Hollywood, and joined Thad at the dinette table. Sunflowers as large as dinner plates, now gone to seed, bowed under their weight in a familiar sight, one that reminded Simon of his grandmother Mandy, who would sit for hours staring at this crop’s forebears.

  “You should telephone Connie,” Thad suggested. “If she brings Cicero when she comes over, I’m afraid the little guy might have an asthma attack. He gets so excited when he sees someone after a long absence.”

  “I should call Cheryl too, let her know that I appreciate the care she gave Ferdinand. Cheryl dislikes coming to the mansion, especially when she’s alone. She’s convinced a resentful ancestor will slam the doors and windows to keep her inside. Cheryl has a vivid imagination. I wish I had been around while she was growing up…and I missed Victoria’s childhood.”

  Thad set down his glass of tea and looked around. “Yeah, but it doesn’t take too much imagination to agree with Cheryl. I know you regret not being close to your nieces, but they both seem to love you.”

  “I represent a kind of freedom for them. I don’t know what Connie and Derek have said about me over the years, but the few times I visited, they jumped into my arms as if they missed me more than anyone.” Simon stood at the window, surveilling what he could see spotlighted under the mercury vapor lamp beside the corral. “Looks like the grass around the pond is close cropped. Cheryl must have staked Ferdinand there longer than other places. One more cold snap and his diet will be limited to oats until spring comes.”

  “I never thought I’d be happy tending a goat,” Thad laughed, “or living in the middle of nowhere. But you know…I couldn’t be happier right now.”

  “Being with you makes everything seem new, as if I’ve never before gazed on the sunflowers or watched the bats flow into the rafters.”

  Thad plopped ice cubes in his glass from a freezer tray and brought the Princess phone to the table. “Connie will be up by now. Let me say hello before you hang up.”

  Simon prepared himself for Connie’s inevitable questioning about his trip to California. He was not prepared for her news.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” Connie said, her voice faltering. “Vivian had another stroke last night. I went to see her this morning. The doctor said she didn’t have much longer…”

  Thad understood Connie’s message through Simon’s expression, mouthing the words, “It’s Vivian, isn’t it?”

  Simon nodded.

  “Vivian is completely out of it,” Connie explained. “I tried to lift her chin this morning to see if she wo
uld recognize me, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open.”

  “Did the doctor say anything specific—I mean, about how long…”

  “It could be hours, it could be weeks. The nurse has been giving her vitamin milkshakes, but when they put the straw to her mouth, she doesn’t respond. If she doesn’t eat, they can’t force her. That’s what Vivian wanted.”

  “Seems that Thad and I returned just in time.” The drama of recent events played through Simon’s thoughts as he considered how lucky they had been with the rescue. He was unwilling to consider what might have happened had they failed.

  “You should be thankful to the Lord, Simon. Vivian was saved. She’ll go to heaven.”

  Simon stopped himself from commenting, knowing how Connie depended on her beliefs to see her through the loss they were about to share. Simon braced himself for the unfiltered agony of losing his mother, holding no idea other than death as the gateway to oblivion.

  “Do you want to visit Vivian with me?” Connie asked. “I can drop by and pick up the two of you.”

  “Actually, Connie, I’d like to be alone with her. Please don’t be upset.”