Emmeline stared across the table at Mr. Yeats. Oh, if only she could see Alice, and soon!She hadn't dared hope...
'Mr. Yeats...truly?'She reached a tentative hand toward him. Good old Yeats grasped it and patted her hand with avuncular affection.
'Yes, Emmeline, truly.'He made a move toward the teapot.'May I?'
'Of course, please do!' Em couldn't believe it! Alice! 'How, where,oh, Mr. Yeats...how shall we do this thing?' She whispered, leaning toward him.
Yeats poured more tea for Em and himself. Taking a sip first, he then asked, 'You still have the artefact?'
He must mean that white ovoid object that Flubber had pressed into her hand, just before Frank appeared...'Yes, I do. I've kept it safe. But, things have been so busy, I hadn't given it much thought...'Em realized now,that perhaps, she really should have.
'Yes.' Yeats said, as if reading her mind...'Keep it close, safe and hidden well! We shall need it to contact Alice quietly and safely. Frank, of course, must remain where he is, out of sight and secure.'
'Yes, of course!' Em couldn't believe it! Soon to see her dear old Alice...oh, so much she had been wishing to say to her...
'Well,' Yeats consulted his pocket watch vestside, 'I should be getting back. Take good care, my dear.' He stood, and Em followed. 'Needless to say, this is entre' nous, cher! Do not speak a word of our upcoming rendezvous with anyone, -- especially not Jack!' He looked down at her from above, eyebrows bristling like Mac cornering a gopher.
'No, no, indeed not!' She walked Yeats to the door, handing him his things. 'Any idea when we might be...'
Yeats put his hat on and pulling the brim down, regarded Em. 'Not yet. Must speak with Alice first. However--possibly, by this coming weekend sometime--perhaps! We shall see.' He smiled then, and suddenly his gruff and imposing manner gave way to boyish charm. How did he do that? she wondered...
Em smiled back and placed a hand upon his arm. 'Thank you so, Mr. Yeats, for the news! Oh, and the delicious cake!'
He patted her hand. 'I shall keep you apprised, one way or another. Keep your watch dogs close! A good evening to you, Emmeline.' And off into the night Yeats's long shadow disappeared, as Em called her furry sentinels inside and closed the door. And made sure to lock it.
. . . . .
Meanwhile, back on Crowley Lane...Jack had put in another working Sunday, this time painting the Indigo Room. He'd mixed different colors of blue, lavender and white, to get just the right shade...he was thinking of the blue spotlight on Morgana's white Grecian gown in Orpheus...that sortof light blue that's only barely there,yet not pastel, but sortof glowing, somehow...
Satisfied with the start he'd made, he washed up and headed downstairs to find Aleister in the kitchen checking out the pots on the stove that Yeats had left stewing on low. 'What's for dinner, Al? I haven't eaten all day, I don't think!'
Al lifted an eyebrow Jack's way.'"All day"for you, began in the afternoon, dear boy,'he reminded him. 'Looks good though. Chilie of sorts! And this pan has rice and vegetables. There's some cornbread in the oven, too,' Al helped himself to all three. 'How goes the work upstairs?'
'Going well!' Jack dug into the ranchstyle tucker, and poured a glass of water, drinking it down. 'It's coming together faster than I thought. This old house has a firm foundation overall, no termites or rot. It won't be the onerous task that this restoration could have been. Let's head into the parlor fireside and eat, Al! Yeats isn't here to make growling noises about not properly dining at table!'
The men took their bowls into the parlor and sat in armchairs fireside, stretching their feet before them and relaxing in the glow of the embers.
'And how was your day, Al? You've been in the lab alot of late!'
'Ummmm,' Al growled around his cornbread. 'Yes, working on a thing or two...when I'm farther along on it, I'll demonstrate!'
They ate in silence awhile. Jack considered his friend then. Aleister really needed to get involved in something...take his mind from Alice...
And in fact, he'd probably love to meet Homer and Jethro!
'Ah, Al! You wouldn't believe what's going on in them thar hills!--or maybe you would, considering you and Flubber used to work together...'
'Eh, how's that, Jack?' Al slowed his spoon, taking in this new tack.
And Jack then proceeded to fill Parsons in on the bat cave, and H&J's guano bombs, not forgetting to mention the apple-jack enterprise as well.
Al laughed then, 'You don't say! Well, that's certainly true, what Homer said about the armies mining bat caves during the war. Both sides! The Union had the most money however...ah, what an ugly chapter in our countrys' history, that!...Slavery had to be abolished, of course. You would think it could come about without brothers warring against one another...or press-ganging immigrants into conscription!' Al looked at Jack then. 'You going to follow things up there? They invited you back for some 'demonstrations' was it?'
Ah, here we go, then, thought Jack. Got you hooked now, Al! 'I might! I'd certainly like to! If only to play some music with those two! Maybe get some pointers...my guitar playing leaves much to be desired...damn.'Jack shook his head. 'Yes, I just might head back up there sometime...although...' Jack recalled something Emmeline had said about, what was it, oh yeah...'although Em isn't keen on it, it seems...'
Al grinned,'Is that so? Did Jack overindulge in the applejack then?'
Jack finished off his chilie bowl. 'Not even. Seems she went to school with Jethro. She knows from bat bombs.'
'Ah!' Al set his bowl aside, leaning back. 'You see Jack! She does care for you, then.'
Jack frowned, trying to recall the events of Saturday evening. 'Possible, I suppose. Hope I didn't do anything to bugger it up already...' Jack seemed to recall...kissing her, somehow...? A kiss goodnight, that was it. Well, nothing wrong with that, he decided.
'Best let me go up first alone though Al. Just to get reacquainted, like.
But you'll like these fellas, indeed. More to them both than meets the eye!'
'Sounds good! I admit I get rather weary of Crowley House at times...'Al sighed, then went to the mantle to take a cigarillo. Striking up, he inhaled, then blew a satisfactory smoke ring. 'Where is old Yeats,tonight, I wonder?'
The two friends sat together absorbed in mellow after-dinner musings as Jack stoked the fire and meditated on his sensei, Yeats. It was an odd thing:trying to reconcile the man who had been his sensei, teaching him zazen, and martial arts, and doubling as chef and valet for many years...with the stunning revelation that he was the Head of their Order. Jack stared into the flames...he should return to his practice. It always helped to ground and center him, give him inner strenth and direction. He certainly needed that now.
He sat back down and regarded the doctor. 'I think I'll tackle the other turret room, while the blue room's paint dries. I believe I'll turn it into a meditation and practice room...since you have commandeered the basement for your lab!' Jack grinned.
'Good idea, Jack! Are you thinking of brushing up on your judo?'
'That. And other things. Have been wondering where to display my katana.'
Jack leaned back and stared into the fire again, letting his mind focus.'I need the dicipline. Of that, and zazen as well. I feel things have been spiralling out of control lately...know what I mean, Al?'
'Need you ask?' The pain on Al's unguarded features was obvious. He flicked his cigarillo into the fire. 'Well! I may ride into town with you tomorrow and look for some items at the hardware store I'll be wanting for my project.'
'I'll go with you Al, after we drop Em at work. I want to get more paint, sandpaper, a half-dozen other things...ah! That sounds like Yeats now!' He glanced at the front door just as it opened to admit
Yeats outlined by the curtain of night behind him. 'Been busy?' Enquired Jack.
'Wouldn't you like to know?' Yeats countered, hanging his coat and hat in the hallway and turning on his heel, headed up to his chambers without another word.
'Typical.' Was Aleisters' comment.
. . . . .
The next day,having dropped Emmeline at the archives building, Jack and Al were happily perusing the labyrinthian innards of the hardware store and lumberyard not far from town proper it was. Al sorted through different brass fittings inside while Jack roamed the yard.
'Didn't hardly recognize you there, Jack, without that blue suit'n shoes!'
Jack wheeled around to behold Homer Simpson big as life. Maybe bigger.
'Well, Homer! Good to see you! Yeah, working on restoring the old Crowley place, you know...it's coming on, but, it'll be a long job, for sure. What brings you here?'
'Ask him--'Homer nodded over to the shop where Jack espied Jethro standing practically back to back with Aleister in the pipe fittings. 'If this isn't a co-incidence! That's my friend Dr.Parsons I was telling you about there with Jethro!'
'Well about time they were acquainted with something other than each other's caboose, then!' Homer led the way back into the shop.'Say, Jethro!
Looky what I found in the woodpile!'
Jethro looked up from the pipe and his face broke into a rakish grin.'Say there Jack Shoes!'He looked down at Jack's boots.
'Nope, no party shoes today. Back to work for me. Say, I'm sure glad I ran into you two! This is my friend and partner in varied crimes, Dr. Aleister Parsons--allow me to introduce Homer Simpson and Jethro Bodine!'
'Pleased to meet you both, gentlemen!'...handshakes all around... 'Jack told me I'd missed quite a show last Saturday night!'
'Not bad! Not bad! Say Doc, Ole Jack here was braggin' something fierce about some sort of laboratory of yours there back at the ole Crowley place!' Homer ventured boldly to the point.
'Well, now...'Aleister smiled, gazing at the floor, 'It's in it's humble nascent phase still, but, I'd be happy to have fellow ah, tinkers! shall we say?--over for a gander sometime!'
'Tinkers!' Homer and Jethro looked at one another, smiling. 'I like that. Could be anything, eh? That's us. Eclectic Tinkering, Inc!' The men laughed.'Yep, that about covers it,'Jethro agreed.
'Why not tonight, Jack?'Al turned to his friend, who nodded. 'If you fellas would still be around later, come on by.'
'Stop on in, guys!'Jack enjoined.' Dinner, as well, what say? I should be home from work around 6ish.'
'Well, it just so happens...'Homer eyed Jethro, who nodded,'We do have business in town that will probably take all day. And dinner sounds good anytime! You have a deal.'
'Excellent. You know how to find the old Crowley place? Ok, anytime after 6 o'clock, then!' And Jack and Al bid 'later!' to Homer and Jethro, as they walked to the counter to place their orders.
'Well, now, if that isn't serendipidous!' commented Al.
'I hope Em thinks so...'Jack sighed. 'She's sure to find out we're all palling around, somehow.'
'And what if we are?' Al huffed. 'You needn't be a party to...all aspects of eclectic tinkering...' he smiled.
'True.'Jack agreed. 'I'm just getting music lessons. That's the truth, too, far as it goes...well, about time we drop this stuff off and round up something for dinner;either Yeats or I will return for Em later.' He eyed Parsons warily. 'I'll do the cooking, if Yeats isn't back yet. You can...tinker.'
'It's what I do best, Jack,' Parsons grinned.
. . . . .
Meanwhile, back at the archives, although it was now near closing, Emmeline was still wrangling with the loathesome likes of Prudence Knytt-Pickens, (of the Boston Knytt-Pickenses),who had been taking her to task for some time now regarding the captions upon certain catalogued items...
'Just see here, Miss Page, this won't do at all! Look at the caption on this postal card: "Summertime boaters serenely sailing about Echo Lake"!
I ask you, Miss Page...' (Em thought that she certainly hadn't paused in her lengthy harangue to ask a thing, really),'IS this proper English? "serenely sailing?" Split infinitives, my dear! Split infinitives! And here in the library archives!'
Em couldn't help but recall the solstice show in the city when she and Alice had such fun and she passionately wished that the acrobatic-comedic troup of that appellation, (the'Split Infinitives!') were performing here at the archives, now at this very minute! Em brought a hand to her mouth, hiding a smile, but Prude, (as everyone called her), wasn't fooled and called her on it.
'Oh, you'll think it funny, missy! Just wait until I bring this up with your director! I'll have you know that my family has always generously supported...'(Em held her tongue, but could only hear blah, blah, blah after all that, and began to reshelve items and see to the closure of the building hoping that Prudence Pain-in-the-Pickens would at long last take the hint and leave...the clock read after 5 pm...where was her ride? thought Em desperately...)
'And another thing!--Oh!' Prudence paused in her puerile pontifications as
the door opened--at last!--and Jack entered. Sizing up the situation and having dealt with Knytt-Pickens before, Jack cut to the chase:'Miss Page, it's past closing time! Can't be heading into overtime territory, now! Ah, Mrs. Knytt-Pickens, please allow me!' And standing aside, Jack held the door open for her, 'Good day!' and ushering the headache in heinous haberdashery that was P.K.P. outofdoors, he shut the door behind her ample retreating form and turned the sign around on the door to read: CLOSED.
'Glad to see me, Em?' he asked.
'You! Are late!' Em smacked him, albeit gently, with her Courier,'But, oh, mercy, yes! Jack if you hadn't shown up when you did, I was close to doing the wicked wench some damage, so I would!'Em gathered her things together and locked up behind them, still smarting from the altercation. 'That woman never has a good word to say about anyone or anything!She lives to critisize.'
Jack handed Em up into the waiting trap, and took his driver's seat beside her. 'She must be...insecure, perhaps,'he ventured, generously.
Em looked at him as though he'd taken leave of all senses. 'Insecure! She's mean as a stomped snake! Let's make tracks, Jack!'
'Vamanos!' Jack clicked to Trotsky and they were off, leaving their headaches behind, they hoped.
. . . . .
'Well, home again, Em!'declared Jack, brightly as they pulled up to Alice's gate. Em gathered her bags and various items together, wishing she could tell Jack of Yeats's information and share her excitement at seeing Alice soon, but...of course, she couldn't do that. 'Got everything?' he
asked.
Em regarded Jack, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the ride back. 'I think so...are you anxious to be off, Jack?' she intuited.
'Oh, you know...'Jack looked down, not so good at circumnavigating the truth, shall we say...'It's just, Aleister and I are, having a couple'a folks over for dinner tonight.'
This was news to Em. She didn't think that Al and Jack knew very many in town as yet. 'Oh? Indeed?'
'Yes. Well, you know Aleister...he's been rather down,what with Alice gone now.'He looked at Em.'He was growing quite fond of Alice, really...despite knowing that she and Frank, well...'Jack sighed. It was tricky.'Al has the utmost professional regard for Frank! We all do! But, he couldn't help...'
Em smiled. 'Jack, you needn't say a thing. No one can help but love Alice, whatever the circumstances! Of course he needs some...distractions!'
Distractions arrived then, as the couple soon noticed another cart come rattling past the corner, 'Whoaaah there, Lulu Belle, whooaah, Scotty! Say! If it isn't Jack and Miss Emmeline!'
Holy snakes indeed. Merde and tres' merde! thought Jack. It was Homer and Jethro...
Emmeline, all ingennuous, waved to them both. 'Hel-looo! Haven't seen you two in some...hours!' she kidded.
Homer hollered back,'Yep, we're just heading over to Jack's place there! Met up with him and his doctor partner here in town, invited us over to view their lab!'
'And, have dinner! Can't wait!' added Jethro, 'Let's get a-goin' Jack, I'm fair famished! You coming, Em?'
Emmeline looked daggers at Jack, but kept the smile on her face. 'Ohhh, no, not tonight I think! I have other plans.' Not waiting for Jack to help her down, she leapt from the trap as if it were aflame. 'You boys best be off now!'She waved them away.'Goodbye, Jack.' She said with finality and turned on her heel and stalked up her walkway, with Mac and Frida in tow.
'Oy, vey...'Jack moaned to himself.
. . . . .
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