Surreal continuing story: walking through doors and passageways

[dougie_monty]

“Well, I’d like to have The Cigar Band as the opening act. They may do something contemporary or something humorous. They’re quite versatile; Johnny Goss and Jeanette Strong showed me a thick volume with their current repertoire.
“And we, Prester John’s Aunt, will come on—we have quite a number of titles to choose.” She shows Gwen and me, and Olivia, Salbert, and Buster, the same titles that appeared in earlier postings on this thread.

“And the five married women—Jane Bradley on piano, Loora Oranjeboom on drums, Mary Blonda on violin or clarinet, Eloise on string bass, and Louise Brown on trombone. I’m waiting for Loora to join us to tell us what they might play; they’re not a rock group…after all, that’s our style.”
I say, “If one of you can play ‘For the Good Times’ on piano I can sing Homer & Jethro’s funny lyrics, ‘Fer the Good Times’—‘You look so bad, it’s really pathetic—’”

“Yes, I’ve heard that,” says Gwen with a smirk. And Alice giggles slightly.
“Then Jane Bradley will do her C&W stuff, in her red-white-and-pink outfit which makes her a cross between Dolly Parton and Anna Nicole Smith,” Alice continues. “Our combo will do a closing act and, if the audience’s reaction demands it, an encore or two.”

Leo has joined us. Now he has some more information on Nicholas.
“This isn’t, I admit, complimentary to the British,” he says, facing Alice. “It is well known that the British government, in the 19th Century, was notoriously involved in opium traffic—witness the ‘Opium War.’ Inasmuch as Nicholas’ operations included India, which was a British possession then, it’s inevitable that he would come into conflict with the government in London over ‘territory’ and supplies. It was something like a range war.”

“Is there a connection with the Morpheus?” I ask.
“Very likely,” Leo answers. “Nicholas’ tussle with the British government was so severe that a number of agents came here, to deal with him, if you know what I mean. :eek: This, of course, dismayed the U. S. Government, and that of the State of California; the agents were quite literally underground. But Nicholas had hired some goons to fend the agents off, and there may be bodies of goons and British agents here and there in the passages Nicholas had constructed. They may even be mummified.”

This is a grisly thought.
Now Loora Oranjeboom joins us, and Leo goes on his way. Loora wants to give Alice and Gwen the list of more traditional titles the married women combo, and Jane as a C&W performer, will want to choose from for the performance. Loora is wearing red jogging shorts, red Nike sneakers, and a plain white T-shirt. Her clothing accentuates her figure, but that’s not why she has come, so she has a more mature manner about her. I’ve known Mrs. Oranjeboom for several years; she speaks with a very slight Dutch accent, which becomes stronger if she is agitated.

Just before Loora opens the portfolio to show us what she has, her daughter Maria, who will be nine years old soon, comes into the room with a slightly sad look. She ignores the rest of us. She’s dressed much like her mother, and walks over to Loora and points to tiny swellings on her chest.
Maria says, “Mommy, am I getting fat?”

The rest of us suppress giggles. Even Buster seems to look mirthful. Loora smiles and explains something to her little daughter.

[NDP]

As Loora discusses the facts of life with her daughter, another matter comes to mind.

“Where will Lorna McManus’ set fit in?,” I ask Alice.

“I was thinking of either putting her after Jane and before the final program,” she answers. “We’ll be meeting her at the Morpheus so we’ll discuss it with her there. However, I’ve noticed some of her songs require use of an electric bass and guitar plus a synthesizer. I’ll ask the members of the Cigar Band if any of them can play those instruments. If not, we may have to hire some extra musicians.”

Loora is now done explaining to her daughter what the cause her strange localized weight gain is. She finally shows us the list of songs the combo is planning to sing. However, we’re all rather surprised at what they’ve chosen for their set. The first song on the list is…

[dougie_monty]

“‘Hotel California’ by The Eagles,” Loora says.
This startles Alice slightly; for one thing, she and Gwen, she says, had considered playing that one themselves.

Gwen asks, “What else have you chosen?” By now I notice that little Maria seems satisfied with her mother’s explanation. She politely excuses herself and returns to the room where the other younger children, including Jimmy Bradley and George Blonda, have been playing.
I smile. “That’s a dear little kid,” I say to Loora.
Her mother says, “Thanks. She wonders what is happening to her body, and at the same time she follows George and Jimmy around. At this point they will start to wonder what she is thinking.”

Alice steers the conversation back to the rehearsals. “Loora, do you have some other choices? Gwen and I had considered using ‘Hotel California’ ourselves.”
“That’s no problem,” Loora answers, the Dutch accent in her voice starting to show. “We also haff such as ‘Heart of My Heart,’ ‘Boogie Voogie Bugle Boy’ [which I know Bette Midler popularized], ‘Strangers on da Shore,’ ‘Lovers’ Concerto,’ ant ‘Cherry Pink ant Apple Blossom Vhite.’”

“That’s a rather dated list, Loora,” comments Olivia. (She had a short an amicable meeting with Carl and Eddie, but evinced an interest of her own in the preparations since she plays some folk instruments, like the bagpipe, the lute, the bongos, and the sitar.)
“Vell, Prester John’s Aunt is playing da rock stuff, zo ve should choose other titles,” answers Mrs. Oranjeboom, her accent getting a little thicker.

“Oh,” says Olivia.
“I’ve been out of the ‘music scene’ myself for years, Alice,” I say. “I’ll leave it to you what to choose, and I don’t know what Lorna McManus has in mind.”

“I do,” says Alice. “She’ll be here in a little while. I know she’s been on Cloud 9 since Jock proposed and she accepted, and she had let things go. But I spoke to her on the phone this morning and she said she’ll show us her repertoire.”
“Oh—don’t forget, Alice,” says Loora, “Jane ant Sally Mears ant Jeanette Strong vill vant to meet vit Amy for the contralto qvartet…”

“Oh, yes, that’s right,” Alice answers. “Jane said she’d work up a list of titles for us all to go over.”
I’ve noticed that Loora can’t seem to sit still. The pupils in her large gray-blue eyes are getting larger; I can see a pulse point on the inside of her right wrist and it looks like her heart is starting to race. Well, her Dutch accent thickening should have tipped me off…

Just then I hear the approaching sound of a diesel engine. It’s Pete’s Mercedes. Fred first announces “Mr. Pete Oranjeboom,” then comes into the room where we all are, and hands us some mail.
Loora’s face lights up when Pete comes into the room. She says, “Vell, I t’ink dat’s all I can tell you now. You have our repertoire. I’ll see you diss afternoon vhen Lorna comes over. Ve may vant to accompany her.”

Just before Loora reaches Pete—and I’ve long noticed they embrace in a rather immodest manner, when they meet—I use ESP to find out what’s in the large bag Pete is carrying. Then she and Pete politely excuse themselves; as they walk away down the hall I can hear them speaking to each other in very animated voices—in Dutch.

I turn to Alice and the others. “That bag is full of sex toys. They’ve had a kinky sex life. Some guys I know wanted Pete and me to go with them to an X-rated movie. I went, Pete didn’t. He said he has an X-rated wife!” This gets giggles and smirks from Alice and the others. Even Buster reacts.
Just before Pete and Loora get out of sight it looks like he has his hand down the back of her shorts! :eek:

Now Gwen and Olivia excuse themselves for the moment. Only Alice, Salbert, and Buster remain in the room with me.
“What did you get in the mail?” Alice asks.
“Another anonymous letter,” I say. “No return address, but a local postmark…address neatly typed—“__________, c/o Jack Sharp, 1602 Wentworth Row, ______, CA _____.”

Alice appears concerned. “Somebody knows you’re here.” She sits close to me and clasps one hand—and pushes one hip against mine.
I smile. “Well, plenty of people do. I asked the concierge at the dorm to forward mail to me here until the rehearsals start. And don’t forget the pizza guy who came the other night, and those ads I posted in the store with Eloise’s approval…”

“Oh, I see,” says Alice, “Still, someone with a less-than-noble motive could have written the letter…”
I concede this and pick up a paper towel and a letter opener from a desk in the next room. I slit the envelope open and spread some more paper towels on the table, as I read the neatly-typed letter. It says,

*Dear ______:
It’s clear to us you consider us to be murder-minded conspirators. Why not find out for yourself?
You may contact us any way you see fit. Face-to-face, chat room, e-mail, using phones on opposite sides of a three-inch-thick lead wall, speaking to me with armed guards of your own choice pointing guns at me.

Let me tell our side of the story. I will accept any terms you choose—within reason.
Please place an ad in the Courier-Times’ Personal Classified Ads section, within a week. If you are not interested, just decline to place an ad. I merely believe we should have a chance to tell our side of the story. Don’t you consider that fair?

Just use the code name ‘Lawrence Hall’ [my dorm building name] in the ad to answer us.
Sincerely, Argo Rank.*
“Well, that’s different!” I comment. If this is indeed Argo Rank it sounds like an unusually contrite way to deal with us.”

Alice isn’t so sure, and neither is Salbert. Or Buster.
I defer to them and ask Salbert to comment—hey, if I’m making a mistake I want to know about it.

By now Alice is edging even closer to me. In the bright light I can see her own pupils expanding; I can sense her breathing getting deeper; and I can even hear her heart beating, pounding away like Pete’s Diesel engine. She clasps my hand even more snugly. She appears to be quite randy. I wonder whether Loora and Pete suggested something to her. :eek:
Salbert says…

[dougie_monty]

[I should have mentioned in that last post that, of the Cigar Band members, Johnny Goss plays the synthesizer and Phil Ramirez an electric bass–a rare left-handed one.–dougie_monty]

[NDP]

“I don’t think Argo Rank means any harm to you–for now,” he says. “Although, I do think it’s fairly obvious he want to use both of you for something so he can get an advantage over the others–especially Maya Kalp.”

“Why?” I ask. “From what Lena told us, I thought they worked together.”

“They did but after their Vegas scheme blew up in their faces there was big falling out,” Salbert explains. “You can’t underestimate the excessive degree of loathing that now exists between Rank and Kalp.”

“Especially now that they’re competing to get as many of Sikes-Potter’s mystical toys as they can,” adds Buster. “Also, don’t forget he also probably knows that the wild stories about Red Nicholas’ gem stash beneath the Morpheus might be true.”

“That reminds me, there’s something else I wanted to tell you about Nicholas before Loora interrupted,” Salbert says. "And I should tell you, this is the really weird part.

“What could be weird about a mysterious 19th century tycoon-suspected witch/Satanist-crime boss-opium dealer-opium addict-nudist who seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth?” Alice states while momentarily holding her lust at bay.

“It concerns his alleged disappearance in the 1880’s,” Salbert answers. “I should qualify that what I’m about to tell you is nothing more than a wild bit of phantasm–a spook story designed to creep out gullible young employees of the Morpheus. However, since we now know the existence of the gem stash seems to have a basis in fact, I thought I should mention before we go down there today. Basically, Red Nicholas never died: he’s still alive in the bowels of the Morpheus with his gem stash.”

“You’re right,” I tell Salbert. “That is too wild to be believed. Now, if it was his ghost, I could believe it.”

“If that story is true, Nicholas must be about 175 years old,” Alice says while slightly rolling her eyes.

“Well, they never really did find out what year Nicholas was born,” Salbert mentions. “And, if the legend is true, I wouldn’t exactly call Nicholas’ state living.”

“How so?” I inquire.

“Supposedly, Nicholas somehow discovered a way to extend his life indefinitely,” he answers. “His methold of cheating death was somehow connected with all the emeralds in this collection. However, as you might expect, there was catch: he could never leave the passages where he kept his gems. Also, the longer he lived, the more his pain grew. The only way to combat the pain was to smoke opium. So, the story goes, Nicholas now ‘lives’ underneath the Morpheus in an opium-induced, langorous, semi-comatose state with his gems and the bodies of his enemies.”

“Wouldn’t Nicholas have run out of opium by now?” Alice asks.

“Supposedly he has a constant supply of special long-lasting opium that’s kept eternally fresh by the same forces that keep his alive,” Salbert answers. "I told you this story was wild. And I’m not even getting into the part having to do with how Nicholas’ dealings with various supernatural entities led to his discovery of perpetual life and a way to keep his dope stash from running out. Karma, divine retribution, or some other type of cosmic justice plays a role in it too. "

For a moment, Buster, Alice and I are stunned into silence by the outlandishness of the story. Then Alice speaks.

“Even if I believed that story–which I don’t–I hope it isn’t true,” she says. “What a wretched existence.”

“I’ll agree with you on that,” Salbert says. “Of course, there’s a good chance this story grew more outrageous as each new story-teller added his personal touches to it.”

At that moment, a new party joins our conversation. It’s…

[dougie_monty]

Mary Blonda. She has been with the younger children but overheard the last part of Salbert’s explanation about Nicholas. She is in her usual about-the-house clothing—ill-fitting white blouse, faded and sometimes threadbare jeans, old house slippers, and with her hair pinned up. She has a pair of reading glasses hanging from a copper chain around her neck. I can’t help but notice as she walks to a chair at our table…the way her hips swivel in an animated manner that is almost comic.

She sits down and greets us; Lupe pours her some camomile tea. “Gracias,” Mary says; Lupe nods and leaves.
“To get right to the point,” she begins, “As implausible as it may be for Nicholas to be alive now with that inexhaustible supply of opium, according to Bob [her husband] it is possible that the restoration could hasten the man’s death once and for all.”

“In what way?” I ask.
“There were some chemicals in the building materials unknown in the mid-nineteenth century, that might either severely irritate a person’s lungs and blood, or permeate and poison the opium, or quash any ‘radiation’ or whatever emanating from the emeralds,” Mary continues. “All of the building materials Jack and his workers used are within the law under California statutes and the local building codes, although they might be toxic to an underground recluse who could be over 160 years old.”

I notice that Mary seems to feel a kind of lust similar to that of Alice and Loora. At least, there is one button, which would be in a strategic position, missing from her blouse—and when she is at home she doesn’t wear a bra. Since we have been staying overnight, and Eloise is an old friend of hers, Mary is braless here too. I turn my ESP on and I sense her heart beating, not necessarily faster, but a little stronger.
She continues. “So it’s likely that some chemicals could have penetrated the area where Nicholas is hiding out and could make it hard for him to breathe. And I believe he might also faces serious problems with whatever water he’s been drinking…”

Salbert speaks up. “Oh, yes—this was comical and almost tragic at the same time. In 1928 a man named Luigi Luglio opened an Italian restaurant next door to the Morpheus. It flourished, but closed down a few years after Luglio died in 1991. There’s a Starbucks there now. In 1978 a sewer line under Luglio’s burst and a few days later the restaurant had to close until the source of the dreadful stench was located. The line was repaired and the filthy mass was removed, but some of it may have seeped into a small water table below. Luglio’s waited for an inspection, but the state inspectors found no hazard. The smell was gone and Luglio’s reopened.

“The heavy rains we had a few weeks ago could have weakened the ground under what sewage may remain there—not in a way to threaten the structural integrity of Luglio’s—or Starbuck’s—or the Morpheus, but just to make any water down there completely unpotable.”
“That’s a weird kind of cosmic justice!” I snort.

Now Fred announces, “Mr. Robert Blonda Senior.”
Now I see Mary’s pupils expand. I’m still attuned to her vital signs, and her heart is pounding away, and her hips rocking slightly. She has a facial expression that seems to say, Oh, Bob, I want you to screw the living daylights out of me. …:eek:
Bob Blonda comes into the room.

I notice Alice has pressed herself against me even more. I glance down slightly and see that she has slipped one arm around me, and is very lightly touching the metal pull-tag on the zipper on my slacks.
And then, suddenly, just before Mary gets up to greet Bob, she sneezes. And so does Alice. Mary’s blouse pops wide open, exposing her full round breasts. She reacts with slight embarrassment and covers her bosom. Salbert, Gwen, Olivia, and I look away. (Alice’s blouse doesn’t pop open, but I can see her brassiere underneath it.)

Bob approaches Mary. “Aw, honey, you can’t hug with your hands like that!” She doesn’t resist as he separates her arms and guides them around him. He slips his around her and they kiss happily. And he slips the pins out of her hair, letting it fall wildly around her head. Now she lets her blouse slip down so it’s hanging, inside out, from her wrists. He holds her as if they’re in a torrid tango and “dips” her. Even so, she tells Bob what we’ve been discussing. They straighten up and stand side by side; Mary slips her blouse back on, but still lets her boobs stick out.

“I’ve heard those stories too,” Bob says. “Of course, we could use an infrared detector to find that old guy if perchance he’s still there…”
Bob and Mary excuse themselves and leave the room. Mary seems to slip her blouse off again, and she squeals and giggles as they go to do other things.

“We’ll want to discuss the ‘pollution’ of Nicholas’ lair with Jack Sharp, and with Stan and Joe as well,” I comment.
This is about all we can do now, though Salbert wants me to discuss Rank’s letter, and what to do about it, with him, Leo, and George Galloway; we can do that tomorrow.

Lorna will be coming this afternoon; and with Jeanette Strong, Loora, and Prester John’s Aunt, she and Alice will lay out plans for our rehearsals to start.
Meanwhile, I get an ESP fix on Alice’s vital signs, same as I did with Mary Blonda’s. She still has her hand poised to unzip my slacks and her heart, breathing, and pupils suggest that her lust is running at full boil.

“Excuse me,” says Olivia. “I promised to go with Carl and Eddie to their office downtown…”
“And I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” says Gwen. “R. Kane has reopened and the owners asked me to meet with them briefly for some reorganization. I’ll be back here for Lorna and the others about 2 p.m.”
She excuses herself and leaves.

Buster says, “Well, Charlie, I think I know what’s going to happen next.” He leaps off the table and goes out to the kitchen, to meow at Lupe and Armand for liver and cream.
Salbert smiles; he has a wicked glint in his eye. “Well, I know you two have other plans for the moment. I’ll be back when Lorna and the others return.” He knows exactly what will happen next with us. He goes off to unhitch Loochy and prowl the brush behind the Sharp property, looking for precious metals and such in the ground…

Alice has reached the boiling point—that is, her emotional buildup is complete. She unzips my slacks and deftly reaches under her blouse, slipping her brassiere off. She tucks it into her purse, followed by her glasses—and mine. She can no longer suppress her horniness! “This is the point of no return,” she says in a highly suggestive tone of voice. :eek:
We hurry into the adjoining room, and quickly put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the outside of the door. As we go into the corridor briefly Fred gives us a knowing look.
And what happens then is pure ecstasy:

[NDP]

an almost holy experience.

At the end of the escapade, I comment, “I’m beginning to think they lace the water here with Viagra.”

“Not that you need it,” Alice says with a grin. “How long have we been at it anyway?”

I look at the clock. “Well over an hour,” I say.

“Over an hour!” Alice yells as she leaps out of bed and scurries around the room getting her clothes. “We were supposed to be at the Morpheus 30 minutes ago!”

I jump out and hurriedly get dressed. We then rush out of the room to the car (which is easy to find because everybody else has left) and speed off to the Morpheus only to hit every red light on the way there. Finally, we pull into a parking space on the west side of the theater and, without stopping to plug the meter, run around the corner and through the front entrance where, to our great surprise, we find…

[dougie_monty]

…All the others there—just ahead of us. This includes Jack and Eloise, who unlock the side exit with a key on a big, heavy ring. When they have the door open, Jack goes inside and slides a larger door open.
To the surprise and amusement of Alice and me, most of the people there appear to have put their clothing on in haste and hurried over. Quite a few have shirts or blouses partially unbuttoned; some are carrying their shoes; there’s a lot of tousled hair. Some of the men have lipstick smeared on their faces; some women have bra straps showing. Many look tired, almost suggesting they ran the six miles from the Sharps’ mansion.

Alice tunes her ESP in; I follow suit.
She tells me sotto voce, as we approach the others, “It looks like we weren’t the only ones humping and losing track of time! Look what Pete Oranjeboom has stuck to his slacks!”

I look and see a weird pink sex toy I can’t identify. :eek:
From the conversations we make out, all of the others were hurried just as much as we were. We help the groups trundle their instrument cases into the wings.

Just now Jock Dumfries approaches; he’d just gotten off shift. Lorna approaches from the other direction and they meet and embrace happily.
Jock says to Alice, “You forgot to put a quarter in that meter. I plunked one in. You have a powder-blue Beetle with the license plate A TRWLGR, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Alice says. “Thanks, Jock.”
“I guess you had something really urgent to do before you got here.”
The whole crowd hears Jock’s remark. Most of them give knowing looks.

The group includes Alice’s partners with Prester John’s Aunt; the four members of The Cigar Band, and two roadies; the five married women and their husbands; the five unmarried women—Sally, Olivia, Betty, Vera, and Phoebe. Also present are Samantha and her daughter Thalia, and her father George Galloway; Professor Fields; Salbert; and Buster, indignant again at having to be in that silly cardboard pet-carrier. I sense that all of the married couples were coupling, as were the five unmarried women with whatever men they’ve been keeping company with. Which suggests to me a ménage à trois between Olivia and Eloise’s sons Carl and Eddie…

We all greet each other and go inside. Artie and the others maintain guard on the street, as usual.
We had planned for Alice to set up with her combo, and to go over with Lorna what music she has. And, of course, Johnny Goss has a synthesizer and Phil Ramírez an electric bass. Gwen, Jane Bradley, and Brenda Sharp, Eloise’s eldest daughter (and a knockout in her own right) have offered to be Lorna’s guitarists.

While Alice and the others are preparing the musical arrangements, I go to the manager’s office with Mr. Galloway, Fields, Salbert, Joe Bradley, Stan Brown, and Bob Blonda, to discuss how to approach the gem stash and what to do about Nicholas, if indeed he is still alive and present. Blonda has brought an infrared detector, and Joe Bradley his laptop and some blueprints of the rebuilt Morpheus, along with some data from the U. S. Geological Survey. I carry Buster, who seems resigned to having to travel as a piece of carry-on luggage…

We sit down in the large office, with Jack Sharp at the desk. He, Fields, and Mr. Galloway are older and I properly defer to them. But Mr. Galloway begins the meeting with an unusual suggestion.
“I’d like to have Father Isaac Abromowitz come out here this afternoon,” he says.
This baffles us. Father Abromowitz is the Catholic priest who has allowed Alice and me to use his vestry for our research when we’ve been away from the college, or her place, or the Sharps’.

“What do you have in mind?” asks Jack.
“I think it’s wise to allow for all possibilities. Father Abramowitz has been a help to us for years in his own specialized field. He has the ability to work with difficult people.”
“Make it a little plainer, George,” says Jack.

“I’m referring to the story that Red Nicholas is still alive in the underground passages beneath the theater. It won’t do us any good to ‘smoke’ him out, if he’s there. Of course, if he isn’t, we have nothing to lose. But this time we should have the help of someone who can reach Nicholas, if he is here, and coax him out. Father Abramowitz seems to have a velvet hand in this regard.”
Jack concedes this. “I saw no recluse hiding on the premises when we did the restoration. If anything such a person would react in a positive way to what we did, rather than in an attempt to plunder as Pettis—do I have that name right?—and Rougeouvrier did.”

Now I hear Lorna’s lovely soprano voice singing a folk tune, with a sitar accompanying her—probably Olivia playing it. And somehow I sense that a distant voice says “Amen!” or something like that to Mr. Galloway’s suggestion.

George Galloway uses the desk phone to call Abramowitz, at the rectory of his parish church, which is a short distance across town, just on the other side of the college. George had been in Abramowitz’ parish in his childhood and knew the Father well. And now the priest answers the phone.
“Good afternoon, Father Abramowitz,” says Mr. Galloway.

[NDP]

“It’s me George Galloway. … Oh, I’m doing fine. … Thank you. I’m glad you like the work we did restoring the Morpheus. In fact, that’s where I’m calling from now. … Oddly enough, I was just going to ask if you could come down here this afternoon. We have a situation here that needs someone with your expertise. … No, we don’t have something that needs to be translated from Coptic. It’s that other field you’re an expert in. … . Yes, drug and alcohol rehabilitation. We have a problem here at the Morpheus with a drug addict and we need to stage an intervention so to speak. … His problem is opium. … No, he doesn’t shoot heroin. He smokes opium. … Yes, I know that you don’t see that too often now. This guy is very much an old-fashioned junkie. … How long has he had this problem? Let’s just say, it the stories about him are true, he’s a long-term hardcore user. … He’s rather elderly and he never leaves his room. … I mean that literally. He never leaves his room. … No, if he’s there, he’s still alive. … Well that kind of dovetails into your other field of expertise. … Yes, exorcism. … I know you’ve never done an actual exorcism before but I can’t think of anyone else who knows how to do one. … No, I don’t think you’ll have to exorcise a demon out of anybody. It’s more like purging a place of evil spirits and maybe breaking some spells. … No, I’m not high … or drunk. … No, this is not a thinly disguised cry for help. We think there’s a man in a gem-laden subterrean passage beneath the theater who’s spent the last 115 or so years smoking an inexhaustable supply of opium. … Yes, I am talking about Red Nicholas. … There’s a good chance the legend is true. Can you come over now? … Good, see you in about twenty minutes.”

Mr. Galloway hangs up the phone.

“Do you think he believes you?” I ask.

“I’m not too sure,” he answers, “but he did say he wants to take a tour of the theater and had the afternoon free. That’s probably the real reason why he’s coming down here.”

“He might get more than he bargained for,” Jack says. “A drug intervention and an exorcism could make for a very busy afternoon.”

We all return to the stage where Lorna has just finished a run-through of “Stupid Girl” by Garbage (for a second, I think I’m seeing the group’s lead singer instead of Lorna). Alice comes up to us and says…

[NDP]

:smack: That should be “subterranean passage beneath the theater.”

[dougie_monty]

“Well, how did you like Lorna’s singing?”
I’m impressed. “I thought she was really good,” I say. “She has a soprano voice that really carries. Was that Goss and Ramírez accompanying her?”

“Yes,” says Alice. “And Olivia was playing the sitar both for ‘Stupid Girl,’ and ‘Scarborough Fair.’”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t notice the sitar in ‘Stupid Girl,” I say, “but then I haven’t followed rock, and such, since the mid-seventies.”

This gets a puzzled reaction from some of the others, who are quite familiar with rock, for example, since the 70s. But then again I’m somewhat older.
Now Louise Brown and Joe Bradley take to the stage. She breaks out her left-handed banjo. Joe goes to the microphone to sing. (He has a very slight Ozark drawl and often sings when his wife Jane plays steel guitar, or acoustic guitar, or whatever…) He has also trundled his string bass onto the stage, but he apparently won’t be using it in this set.

Meanwhile Jane has introduced a friend of her daughter Susan to Jack and Eloise, and sits her in the front row. This is a quiet, slight, shy 18-year-old girl named Claudia Hart. Jane and Susan communicate with the deaf-mute Claudia, using ASL.
Louise starts playing a lively tune on the banjo, and Joe starts to sing. The tune is “Biggest Parakeets in Town,” by Jud Strunk; which even I recognize as a song from the Dr. Demento show!

Within a few bars of the beginning, I feel a strange impulse. I hurry up onto the stage and go over to the string bass—and I play along with Louise and Joe—and somehow play the bass part correctly, though I haven’t even handled a string bass in 40 years! :eek:
As the song continues, with our small audience—that is everyone present except for those actually on stage—laughing merrily at Strunk’s lyrics, I notice that Jane herself is on stage, deftly rendering the song into ASL for Claudia’s benefit. (Buster is still in his carrying case, in a seat in the front row.) Because of the angle—I am standing at one end of the stage with the string bass while Jane stands near the other end, signing the song for Claudia—I am able to see Jane mouthing the song. It’s clear to me Claudia can read lips as well as communicate in ASL, and, although she doesn’t speak or hear, she enjoys the song same as the others. Joe finishes the song:

As he goes to caress her
He sees them on the dresser
The biggest parakeets in town! (She’s really got ’em!)
The biggest parakeets in town!

The audience, including Claudia, laughs and applauds.
Alice comes up to me. “Why the devil didn’t you tell me you could play the string bass? I could have had you appear with Lorna!”

“To tell the truth,” I say, “I didn’t realize I could play it myself. I haven’t even tried to play one since I was in junior high school! But—somehow I got the impulse to play it and—well, it came so easy!”
Joe congratulates me on playing the bass. Louise and Jane are delighted with it too.

Now we have another visitor, whom Artie allowed to come in. It’s Father Isaac Abramowitz, who came in just in time to hear the very end of Strunk’s song. He’s in his regular black priestly outfit with the white collar. He bears a strong resemblance to President Martin Van Buren, but is of Russian ancestry rather than Dutch. None of us are Catholic and so none of us cross ourselves.
Abramowitz approaches the front row. The performers take five as Jack, Eloise, Mr. Galloway, Samantha, Salbert, Fields, Stan Brown, and Jane Bradley, and Alice and I, sit in chairs at the middle of the front row. Susan goes off to the lounge with Claudia, and the other performers attend to chores backstage. The curtain goes down; The Cigar Band will be setting up shortly.
Father Abramowitz is past 70, but is a very energetic and perceptive man. He explains that he did know about the stories concerning Red Nicholas, and the fabled gem stash, and so on, and appreciated Mr. Galloway phrasing his request the way he did. Once the priest recognized George’s voice and knew Mr. Galloway was not putting him on about our alleged recluse, he felt able to discuss the matter openly.

“George and I go way back,” says Abromowitz. “Well, what do you have in mind for locating this person? I understand Bob Blonda brought an infrared detector. Exactly what would you like to do?”
Alice and I sit together, cuddling slightly. All of us listen closely to the discussion between Mr. Galloway and the priest.

[NDP]

“Until recently, when we found the silver trove in the theater basement, we thought the story of Red Nicholas and his gem stash was just a legend,” Mr. Galloway begins. "However, after we took everything out–

“Hold on, back up,” Father Abromowitz says. “I thought the silver trove was another myth about the Morpheus. You mean you actually found that too?”

“Yes, someone who had some inside info about the theater told us where it was,” Galloway states. “From a hidden map, located the hidden doors and shipped the entire silver trove back to the Sharps. Talk to Jack Sharp about it–he’ll fill you in.”

“I will.”

“Anyway, after we took everything out, we noticed a trap door in the floor that seemed to have a green glow coming from the crack. That’s when we realized there actually could be something to those old spook stories about old Red Nicholas and his gem room.”

“I know. I’ve heard them. I worked as an usher at the Morpheus one summer as a boy and one of the rites of passage there was for older theater employees to scare the new employees spitless by telling them about Red Nicholas. Of course, I never believed them–at least not for more than a few minutes anyway.”

“It’s good your familiar with all the stories. Although, if you have any questions, there’s an expert on this subject who can fully inform you.”

(Mr. Galloway is obviously talking about Salbert.)

“As you may know, Red Nicholas didn’t exactly have a pristine reputation,” Mr. Gallow continues. “And you also may know he had a lot of mystical beliefs and practices that were a bit … unorthodox. That’s why we need your expertise in exorcism. By the way, did you bring your bottle of holy water?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I usually don’t see Satan and his minions on a daily basis so I don’t feel the need to carry a flask of the stuff with me at all times.”

“Maybe we won’t need it. Besides, I think your experience as a rehab counselor will be of more use here. If Nicholas is still there, we have to find a way to get him to stop smoking opium and coax him out.”

"I don’t mean to cast doubt on Father Abromowitz’ skills as a drug counselor, " I say, “but what makes you think Red Nicholas will listen to a Catholic priest? According to what Salbert said, he was involved in witchcraft, Satanism, and who knows what else.”

“I’ve worked with people who weren’t Catholic or even Christian,” the priest replies. “The important is to get Nicholas to realize he has a problem and needs help.”

“Do we even have to do this?” Alice asks. “This guy is over 175 years old and has been in a drug-induced stupor for the last 115. Even I could probably pick him up and take him out without a struggle.”

“Were it not for all the supposed spells, forces, and spirits that have been guarding him all this time,” Mr. Galloway mentions. “That’s where Father Abromowitz’ expertise in exorcism comes back into the picture.”

At that moment, my ESP picks up the presence of someone. I turn around and see someone who’s been quietly listening to our conversation the whole time–someone who could be of great help here. It’s…

[dougie_monty]

Leo.
I see him at the back of the room. He is barely visible; I think, “Hey, Leo, we could sure use you right now.”

Glad to be of assistance, comes the message back to me.
I’m startled. How did that happen?

That was a telepathic message, answers Leo the same way. Matthew Red Wing endowed you with ESP and that includes mental telepathy. I see you have Isaac Abramowitz here to coax Nichols out. You may be interested to see who else can help. You and Alice please come with me into the lounge.
I see that Alice picked the message up, too. She and I excuse ourselves and step into the lounge, where I’d contacted Leo originally. We see Leo there—with Claudia Hart, the deaf-mute girl.

Leo knows, of course, we’ve met Claudia. Now she communicates with us. Alice and I speak normally, as does Leo; Claudia, with no voice or hearing ability, responds with telepathic answers the three of us can pick up. We sit in chairs, including Leo.
Claudia tells us mentally: I am a great-grandniece of Richard “Red” Nicholas, whom you seek. He had a number of close relatives who could not speak or hear, and in fact the trait is frequently inherited in our family. “Red” was, for all of his peculiar habits and beliefs, very compassionate with deaf-mutes and even made arrangements to have deaf-mute children of his companies’ regular employees schooled so they could communicate with the outside world.

“Do you believe you can convince him to come out? As Mr. Galloway said, Mr. Nicholas is under the influence of drugs.”
He is not so under the influence that I cannot communicate with him, she answers. You must understand that he uses opium to get what people would call a slight ‘buzz.’ He does not fall into a semi-conscious stupor. Even during his regular lifetime in the late nineteenth century his own family members were able to talk to him in such a state. I believe I should have no difficulty with this.

Alice and I—and Leo—are impressed with this teenager’s poise and confidence, even as we pity her inwardly for being deaf-mute.
“What about Father Abramowitz?” I ask. “Mr. Galloway asked him to come over—”
Claudia smiles. Father Abramowitz has his area of expertise and I have mine, she tells us mentally. I may be able to coax him out to an area of your priest’s normal earshot. Besides, I believe your priest can reason with “Red” in a way I cannot. And he can, of course, deal with possible demonic influences in a way his young great-grandniece could not, either.

Alice and I mull over this. We know the difficult thing will be to convince Jack Sharp, and Stan Brown and Joe Bradley, to permit Claudia to go down into the passages in the subbasement in order to communicate telepathically with her nearly moribund relative. Even if Leo accompanies her, as he may want to do. But considering the compassion Jane Bradley and Louise Brown have shown her, and the likelihood that they and Jack’s wife Eloise can talk Jack into it, we feel this is possible, even if we don’t say anything to Father Abromowitz about Leo. And knowing Eloise’s wifely wiles and ability to wrap her husband around her little finger…

Having a Jacob Marley-like ghost on the premises was a difficult matter to explain to Mr. Galloway, and Jack Sharp, let alone to a priest from our parents’ generation.

So, after bidding Leo goodbye for the moment, and waiting until the time is right to take this up with Mr. Galloway and Jack Sharp, Alice and I go with Claudia to meet Jane, Louise, and Eloise in the lounge. Claudia is wearing a T-shirt that bares her midriff, and a pair of snug black jeans, like most teenage girls do these days. Jane is wearing one of her solid-colored dresses, quite plain except for the preposterously shapely body beneath it. Louise wears a white cardigan and blue jeans; Eloise has on an expensive green pantsuit. The three women, as always, make my heart skip a beat, as Alice has so often done. Alice and Claudia and I sit down with the three women at the large table. We all sip ice water. Jane uses ASL to greet Claudia.

“You’re not going to believe this one,” I say to the three married women, all of whom have known me for years and can believe just about anything I tell them. Jane, Louise, and Eloise turn to face Claudia, who signs to Jane. Jane repeats Claudia’s communications verbally and, of course, the rest of us speak.
I can assist with your husbands’ effort to coax Mr. Nicholas out of the subbasement passages, begins Claudia in ASL.

[NDP]

“I also know a friend who can help us out too. He’d love to meet all of you but he’s a shy type and does not like to be around large groups of people.”

Claudia is subtly referring to Leo.

“All I ask is that you allow me, Alice, _____, and my friend to go down to where the subbasement passages are before everyone else does so we can check them out. It will be sort of an advance scouting mission.”

The women are silent for a moment as they deliberate over Claudia’s proposal. Then, Jane begins signing a question to Claudia that she annunciates for the rest of us.

“Who is the ‘friend’ of yours and can we trust him?”

His name is Leo and you can trust him. Go ask Alice. I think she’ll know, Claudia answers in ASL.

The three women turn to Alice.

“I know Leo,” Alice says. “He’s safe.”

“I can also vouch for him,” I say. “Also, I think he’ll be very useful.”

“Well, since you’re going with her, you can go ahead,” Jane says.

“It’s okay with me too,” agrees Louise.

“How long is this going to take?” asks Eloise.

Jane signs Eloise’s question to Claudia who answers, "No more than 30 to 45 minutes.

“Then okay,” says Eloise.

With that, Alice, Claudia, and I go back to the lounge where we see Leo.

“How’d it go?” the ghost asks telepathically.

“Jane, Eloise, and Louise said it was okay for us to scout things out,” answers Claudia. “We have about 45 minutes to do it.”

*“Fine with me,”*he responds.

“What exactly is the plan?” Alice asks.

“We’ll all go down to the storeroom where the trap door is,” Leo explains. “Since I’m a ghost and can pass through walls and floors, I’ll pass through the trap door into the passage where Red Nicholas might be just to see if he’s really there and if there’s anything dangerous. I’ll then come back and, if everything’s safe, you, Alice, and Claudia can go down and try to make contact with him.”

“If Nicholas is there, don’t you think he might freak out if he sees a ghost” I inquire as we all head down to the formerly hidden storerooms.

“We’re talking about Red Nicholas here,” Leo says. Don’t you remember? This guy was supposed to be deep into Satanism, witchcraft, and spiritualism. He saw freaky stuff on a daily basis for years. I’m probably about as scary to him as a girl scout selling cookies."

“I think those stories about Red Nicholas are exaggerated,” Claudia telepathically says. “Anybody who exhibited the concern and care he did for the deaf couldn’t have possibly been as strange and evil as people say.”

“Human beings are complex Claudia,” Alice says as we continue our telepathic conversation. "Each one of us is capable of doing both wonderful or horrible things. During the Depression, Al Capone operated soup kitchens for the hungry. Or what about the ‘Robber Barons’ of a century ago? John D. Rockefeller was a ruthless oil monopolist who mercilessly crushed efforts by his workers to organize for better wages and working conditions. Yet, he was also a great philanthropist."

*“Hey, how about Kirby Puckett?”*I state. “He had everybody fooled.”

“You don’t believe those stories do you?” asks Claudia.

“I’m just saying that you shouldn’t think it’s impossible that the kindly Red Nicholas who cared deeply for the welfare of deaf children is also the same notorious Red Nicholas who murdered his rivals, was into Satanism, witchcraft, and the opium trade,” Alice explains.

At that moment, we arrive at the store room where the trap door to Nicholas’ legendary gem room is. As I stare at, I notice an inscription engraved into the wood near where the latch is. I get on the floor to get a closer look.

It reads: We are the dreams stuff is made of.

“That’s a mangled Shakespeare quote,” Alice says. “It should be, ‘We are the stuff dreams are made of.’ It’s from The Tempest.”

“Whoever made this room certainly didn’t know Shakespeare,” Leo comments. “That’s a well-known quote. How could anybody get that wrong? And in a theater of all places!”

“Could have been a workman’s error,” I say. “Somebody who didn’t know Shakespeare got the quote mixed-up.”

“We can speculate about this error later,” Leo says as moves directly over the trap door. “I’m going to see Red’s room. Down I go.”

With that, Leo’s feet, legs, body, and head pass through the trap door.

For the next few minutes, Alice, Claudia, and I silently inspect the storeroom where the silver trove used to be. There’s nothing special about it now that its contents have been removed. Above us, I hear Lorna singing while being accompanied by Goss and Ramírez on synth and electric guitar. They’re doing The Who’s “Acid Queen.” Suddenly, Alice and I hear moaning and the sound of commotion coming from the trap door. Then, we hear a rushing sound. Leo bolts upward through the trap door. He’s as pale as a … well … more pale than usual.

“What happened?” Alice asks.

“Don’t go down there!” Leo says with terror. “Whatever any of you do, stay away from these passages.”

“Why?” Claudia telepathically asks. “What did you see?”

Leo draws in close to Alice and I and whispers, “I can tell you but it’s best Claudia doesn’t know.”

“What is it?” Alice whispers back.

"When I went down there…

[dougie_monty]

…I saw creatures such as those that were in movies like 13 Ghosts, Alien, and The Time Machine—the originals.”
I haven’t seen Alien, but I saw the other two movies, in the early 60s. Alice, however, has seen Alien. And I’ve seen some images from Alien.

Leo continues, “The scene was much like the banks of the River Styx, as you may have seen it in medieval paintings. All in all, the scene gives the impression of the worst elements of the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch.”
“Then you didn’t seen Red Nicholas?” Alice asks.

“No, I didn’t. However, [and here I sense Leo is going to give us an impressive announcement; he doesn’t hide this part from Claudia’s attention] the entire scene looked as if it is surrounded by a thick shell of granite, or basalt, or both, as if it’s totally self-contained and it could be ignored or even sealed off…”

“And?” I ask in anticipation.
“Just inside this exterior portal is a small side room, which I did not yet explore. I was so revulsed by the main scene I did not notice it right away. It is possible that if Nicholas is down there, he is accessible only by that side passage.”

“I think we should ask Jack and Joe about the reports on the theater’s foundation; whether that chamber is part of the old Luglio’s Restaurant. And maybe the side entrance would be the access to Nicholas’ domain.”
Leo is still shaken up, and he declines to go in again, at least right now. But he makes a suggestion.

“As it happens, I know Father Isaac Abramowitz. Granted his name sounds incongruous for a Catholic priest; but he and his family were survivors of Auschwitz. This is one reason he has done so well dealing with difficult people. Anyone who experienced the horrors of Nazi death camps as he did would not likely be fazed much by what I saw, and if others back him up it would be better still. He knows this sort of thing recently—he had two friends killed in the attacks on September 11.”

Alice and I muse on this. We may want to take this issue up with Abramowitz, and Jack Sharp and Mr. Galloway. And we may want to mention it obliquely to Stan Brown and Joe Bradley, in case there’s a way to get into the side passage without stumbling onto the Stygian scene Leo reported. Cutting a hole in the wall springs to mind…
Alice, Claudia, and I take notes. We return to the surface, just as Jane is playing her steel guitar and Joe is singing “You’ll Never Walk Alone” from Carousel.

As the song ends, and we all applaud, Alice and I approach Mr. Galloway and Jack Sharp. Claudia is with us, so we ask Jane Bradley to join us and use ASL to communicate with Claudia. Alice, Mr. Galloway, Jack Sharp, Joe and Jane Bradley, Claudia, and I go into the manager’s office. As usual, Jack sits at the desk; the rest of us pick chairs near the desk. Buster, glad to be out of the silly pet carrier, sits calmly on the desk. Claudia sees him and strokes his fur gently; he purrs appreciatively.

So now Alice, Claudia, and I spell it out for the others; and I sense the approach of Leo, facing into view just behind us.
Alice speaks first.

[dougie_monty]

That should be fading into view… :o

[NDP]

“Jack, our plan to search Red Nicholas’ gem room has hit some complications.”

“How so?” asks Jack Galloway. “This job is already pretty complicated.”

“Alice, Claudia, Leo, and I just did some advance scouting of the area where Nicholas’ passages,” I state. “Leo passed down through the trap door to look things over and … well … he found something that could affect intregity of the Morpheus’ foundation.”

“What?” Mr. Galloway demands to know. “Is the foundation cracked?”

“We don’t think so,” answers Alice.

“Water damage?”

“No,” I answer.

“Not termites?”

“No, not them.”

“Then what is it?”

“Well … Mr. Galloway … we think that in the sub-basement there might be what looks like a Hellmouth.”

There is dead silence for what seems like a very uncomfortable eternity before Jane Bradley dryly says, “Do you watch a lot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

“I’ve just seen a few episodes,” I answer. “Why?”

“I watched the show fairly regulary until it switched networks,” Alice admits, “but that’s beside the point. Leo, tell them what you saw.”

Leo comes into everyone’s full view. His appearance startles some in the room.

“I saw everything myself,” he states. “Down in the passages, I came across a revolting scene that was straight out of a Hieronymus Bosch painting. Everywhere were these horrific H.R. Giger-type creatures, demons, spirits, and beasts that looked like the Morlocks from The Time Machine. The room or cavern where this hellish scene was seemed to be self-contained and surrounded by a thick granite or basalt shell with a small side room. I think Nicholas might be there but I was too scared by what I saw to investigate any further.”

“Well, there’s a new wrinkle,” a voice from the back says.

We all turn around and see…

[dougie_monty]

Salbert, dressed in his Old Prospector getup.
I say, “I hope Loochy isn’t here!”

“No,” he says, “Loochy is out in that corral I own outside of town, keeping company with the Sharps’ horses.”
“Good,” says Buster. “When I was at the mansion I couldn’t stand his braying!”
Salbert returns to the subject at hand.

“I know the Luglio family. I spoke yesterday with a man named Ferruccio Luglio, who is now a senior surgeon at San Francisco General.”
“I think I know him,” I say. “We went through high school together, and I think he went into the Army.”

“And he did his hitch and went to medical school on the G. I. Bill,” Salbert adds. “It’s very likely Dr. Luglio knows about the origin of the Stygian scene Leo saw. Luglio minored in geology in college and he was interested in the environs of the restaurant. He had a hard time convincing his grandfather, the original Luglio, to allow a survey of the ground under and next to the restaurant.”

“Did he ever study the stratum under the Morpheus?” Alice asks.
“Yes, he did,” answers Jack Sharp. “In fact, when I was planning the renovation, the Luglio family gave me structural data—not only about the Morpheus and Luglio’s Restaurant, but the hairdresser’s place on the other side of the theater, and the auto body shop on the other side of the block. He found the foundation structurally sound, but that doesn’t mean there couldn’t be hollow spaces beneath the foundation. Remember, Leo said the scene he saw was encased in a stone firmament, in a sense. Now whether Luglio’s or the Morpheus is directly over that shell, it probably doesn’t matter. The surveys we have, including the last one done by Joe Bradley, here, indicate the Morpheus’ foundation is solid. I even remember Dr. Luglio—who set my leg once when I broke it—telling me that the long bones of the leg are essentially hollow cylinders. The same concept of stress and support is not violated by a hollow chamber, when the chamber is surrounded by a thick stone shell.”

Leo speaks up. “I may want to inspect that scene again, once I get over my initial shock. Hey, I saw Alien six times—after the first time it didn’t scare me anymore.”
Alice smiles. “I saw it three times, and after the first time it didn’t bother me either.” I sit close to her and clasp her hands snugly.

Claudia now has a comment, which she signs to Jane, who speaks it: I don’t know for sure, but my ancestor may have had a connection with the Luglio family—even before they came here from Italy around 1900.
Mr. Galloway says, “Well, the plot thickens; so far I hadn’t been aware of his connection with immigrants. That was 20 years after he had last been seen in Victoria Station, anyway. I guess it boils down to the choice of having Leo scout the Stygian scene he saw, again, and having Joe and Stan cut a hole in the rock wall along the side passage, to bypass the main scene altogether…”

I watch Leo. He seems to be picking up a signal from something. He pauses, as if listening to something the rest of us cannot hear. Joe and Jane’s radar eyes perk up, too, as if picking up Leo’s signal as well.
When Leo appears satisfied he’s perceived what he wanted, he settles down and stands with us, as if at “parade rest.” Joe and Jane return to normal posture, too, and they sit down; Joe puts one arm around Jane, right below her outsize bosom. Jane’s arms are free, however, and she continues to interpret for Claudia.

In fact it’s Claudia who wants to know…and she signs to Jane, who speaks her question to Leo: It seems you’ve received an important message about ‘Red’ and the Luglio family and that Stygian scene.
Leo smiles. “Indeed I did. In fact…”

[NDP]

I found out that when Luigi Luglio’s father, Federico, was a boy in Italy, he worked for Red Nicholas."

“What was Red Nicholas doing in Italy?” Claudia asks Leo via Jane.

“Business–but I’m defining that term very broadly,” the ghost answers. “Basically, under the cover of trying to purchase Italian marble, he was trying to acquire various ancient mystical documents–often through violent means.”

“Where does Federico Luglio fit in?” I ask.

“When Nicholas was in Naples, he hired Federico as an errand boy (the Luglio family comes from Naples). Anyway, as might be expected, Red, in his aggressive search for documents, angered a couple Neopolitans who tried to even things up with knives. By chance, Federico came across these men as they attacked Nicholas. He immediately rushed to his aid, disarmed the would-be assailants, and saved Nicholas’ life. A grateful Nicholas rewarded Federico by making him his personal assistant in Italy, paying the poor boy a princely sum of money, and offering him a job if and when he decided to come to the U.S. At the time, Federico refused to immigrate but later changed his mind after he married and had children. By that time, Nicholas had ‘disappeared’ but the heirs of his estate honored his promise and gave Federico a job at the Morpheus.”

“So what does the Stygian scene in the sub-basement have to do with Nicholas and the Luglios?” Alice inquires.

“During his stay in Italy, Nicholas, who has long been obsessed with The Divine Comedy (in particular the Inferno), purchased some items that originally belonged to Dante Alighieri,” Leo answers. "These included…

[dougie_monty]

“…An illuminated manuscript of the Vulgate—the Latin Bible translation made by Eusebius Jerome in the 4th Century.
“A golden sword—more of a symbol than an implement. It seemed to serve the same function in the government in Rome, at the time, that the ‘mace’ [a tall, thin bundle of ebony sticks] does in the U. S. House of Representatives.

“A pair of spectacles claimed to have been owned and used by Pope Clement IV, who was elected to the See about the same time Dante was born. I cannot vouch for the authenticity of this item, inasmuch as I cannot ascertain at what time spectacles were first developed in medieval Europe.
“A pyx—a small container used in the Eucharist—that was owned and used by Clement and a few of his predecessors.”

“Why did Nicholas want these things?” asks Alice.
Mr. Galloway answers, “Hey, they’d be collectors’ items, assuming them to be authentic. If any of you have watched Antiques Roadshow, you know some of the items offered for appraisal turn out to be clever fakes—not that Nicholas would be aware of it.”

Stan Brown adds something. “Louise has long been interested in the development of optics and eyeglasses; she’s had to wear glasses herself since she was about 8. I can ask her if Pope Clement IV would have been able to wear spectacles.” If not, even Dante himself could have been cheated…

Salbert says, “In any case, it’s pretty well established that Nicholas’ heirs and the Luglio family had a strong friendship. The employees of Luglio’s Restaurant always got generous discounts on performances—and later movies—at the Morpheus, and the performers and employees of the Morpheus were often able to get meal discounts at Luglio’s, which does not serve exclusively Italian food, though their lasagna, spaghetti, and fettuccine were renowned and they always had an excellent selection of wines. A lot of people were dejected when Luglio’s closed its doors in 1992.”

Now Claudia has a comment, which she signs to Jane—who is slightly startled. I would like to try again to go down and look at that scene Leo saw. I have seen all of those movies with Freddy Kruger, and Jason, and Hannibal Lecter—and I saw Alien myself eight times! :eek:
Leo mulls over this. “All right—but I’d like to have Charlie [Salbert] here come with us, and Joe or Jane or both. We could use their radar eyes.” Now it’s the turn of Joe and Jane to ponder this idea.

They agree. Jack Sharp says, “All right, you may check that out one more time—but I’ll give you no more than an hour. If you don’t come back by then we’ll have to send an emergency alert to DXM.”
We agree to this. So Leo, Salbert, Alice, Joe, Jane, and I go back to the passage below the theater, and to the trapdoor. I still carry my Magnum; Joe and Jane also carry handguns. We’re all dressed much like Indiana Jones in The Temple of Doom.

Joe and I lift the heavy grate off the hole in the floor. The grate is easily four feet across, so none of us should have any trouble getting in—or out, if we are overcome by fright, which is likely. Joe sets the grate on the floor of the passageway, several feet away. Jane carries a cell phone to keep in touch with Jack and Eloise, who are up in the area in front of the basement access to the freight elevator, about 200 feet away.
Flashlights and guns at the ready, we slip down through the opening. And then we see it!
The scene sure fits the description of “Hellmouth.” The banks of the Styx; odd moaning; distorted human anatomies—and dismembered bodies; and some of the strangest creatures I have seen.

And suddenly Leo turns and bellows, “Damn! I knew I should never have agreed to come down here!”
Several monstrously large creatures advance on us. The first and largest is a monster like the one in Alien, that had the thing come out of its midriff. There are two Morlocks. Godzilla. A Freddy Kruger wannabe. Other assorted deadly monsters. I also turn to see a large globe on a stand, containing a head like the mastermind in the movie Invaders from Mars, from the early 50s. I pull my gun, but we all sense it isn’t going to do any good to try shooting anything here.

We are all white with fright—even Salbert and Leo. This is the worst experience Alice and I have had since Randy James prepared to kill us in the valley with a whammy!
And Alice bleats, “I’d rather face Lemoyne than a horror like this!”

Suddenly the various creatures stop in their tracks and turn silent. The “Alien” changes posture and calmly walks toward us.
“Did you say ‘Lemoyne’?” the Alien asks. Now this creature, and some of the other monsters, are startled. None is menacing.

“Y-yes, I s-said Lemoyne,” answers Alice.
The creatures remain calm and the Alien approaches us, making it clear he is not looking to give us the Bosch treatment.

“We creatures have our own grievance against him—do you mean Victor Armistead Lemoyne, a builder with a business in Lodi?”
“Yes, we do,” I say. All of us have calmed down somewhat. “What is your grievance?”
The Alien sighs. “He promised us we could get out of here, about ten years ago! And none of us ever heard from him, or his company! They said they would remove the canopy from this subterranean scene and we could return to our own domains. Some of us are extraterrestrial and have not seen our home planets in many years. We even tried to send a signal for help—a green light that would show up in the theater basement.”

We nod. Claudia signs, Do you mean that it is possible to remove part of the stone shell? It’s under a restaurant, or a theater, or both…
The Alien smiles, if you could call that face a smile. “The part we want to escape from is in the back lot between the theater and the body shop. That part is limestone, not basalt or granite. Even if that caves in it can be repaired easily—and we can do it.” The Morlocks and other monsters nod in assent.

“Don’t leave me out!” says another voice.
A wizened, almost albino man in ragged clothing strides up to us. Despite this description he seems quite agile and lucid.

“I am Richard Nicholas, known as ‘Red’ to you up on the surface.”
Claudia reacts immediately. You must be my great-granduncle! I am Claudia Nicole Hart.
Now Nicholas and Claudia sign to each other. Jane, now fully recovered from the initial shock we all had, speaks to translate.

“A few things you all should know. Yes, I am over a hundred years old. And I no longer use the opium—that ran out on me years ago. I have had no company since 1983 but these monsters. The Alien, here, kept me current on what was going on. I understand you had the theater renovated—by a wealthy married man who has fifteen kids.”
“Jack Sharp,” I say.

“Well, I don’t think any of us want to hang around here any longer. Why don’t we go up to the surface?” Nicholas says, at the same time signing his statement to his great-grandniece.
“We’d like to maintain contact with you, Alien,” Alice says. “We can arrange with Mr. Sharp and the body-shop owner to let you all escape.”
“And nobody will see us when we do,” adds one of the Morlocks. “We’ll all scoot out of here like Potrzebie!”

We all laugh, including the monsters. I guess there isn’t a place where Mad Magazine hasn’t penetrated.
“I can communicate with you, if any of you know mental telepathy,” says the Alien. “Call me Al.”

“All right, Al,” says Leo. He introduces us to the monsters. “Alice Terwilliger, ________, Jane and Joe Bradley, and Charlie Salbert. My name is Leo Jacobs.”
“I’ll contact you within a few days,” says Al. “Which of you has mental telepathy?”

“I do,” says Alice. “And _______ here does, and there’s a friend of mine named Lena Martínez who is with us. We’re rehearsing in the theater, so you may want to try reaching more than one of us.”
“Oh, I see, your line might be busy,” answers Al, with an Alien grin. “Oh—and Alice, save some herring for me!” She ponders this tag line. And I ponder the way she said “I do”… :eek:

Now we prepare to climb up through the trapdoor. Conveniently, there are metal rungs in the wall for us to use. All of us climb up except for Leo, who floats up last of all. Joe and I replace the grate. We all sit down in the passageway next to the storeroom, and drink ice water from our canteens, except, of course, for Leo.
And we are overwhelmed by this experience. Joe and Jane sit in a close embrace as do Alice and I; Nicholas sits with his young descendant, still trembling slightly from the ordeal. Jane switches her phone on to tell Jack and Eloise we are all right. Eloise acknowledges.
I speak up.

“Oh, wow—what are we going to tell Jack and Eloise about this? And Mr. Galloway—and Father Abramowitz?”
The others laugh, including Nicholas and Claudia.

Then Jane turns and asks, “Oh, Alice—what did ‘Al’ mean by that ‘herring’ remark?”
Alice hesitates, but says, “Well, Jane…”