“…That machine must be haunted!”
This gets a laugh from several of us, Jeanette included—though she doesn’t yet know about Leo’s current calling. She apparently has quite powerful lungs. Nicholas watches her undulate and gets an instant hardon.
“Well, at least this work keeps you busy, Leo,” Alice comments.
“That’s true,” the ghost answers. “Hey, it’s better than drifting through abandoned houses and being an extra in 3-D movies. Oh, well, it’s the same old shtick…”
“Will you have to leave, Leo?” I ask.
“No, not this time,” he answers. “More than half of my contacts have been through the Morpheus, about soda pop. Some go back before the movie house closed about ten years ago. I have other ways to deal with Nesbitt and the other soda-pop companies that provide the product here; if I dealt with Nesbitt’s the way I did with Spry and McDLT and such, I’d spend most of my time at their plants. I use telepathy, and I have other ghostly contacts, who act as agents between me and the functions at Nesbitt’s I have to handle. Only with real knotty problems do I actually go to a Nesbitt’s plant. Jeanette getting pink lemonade instead of diet Coke doesn’t count—especially if it only happens the one time.”
Nicholas asks, “Jeanette, why do you drink Diet Coke anyway? You don’t appear to need it.” He is still aroused—I can’t help but notice.
Jeanette smiles at the compliment. “And I intend to keep it that way, Red,” she answers in her low register. “My figure is my fortune.” She then strikes a majestic pose, thrusting her bust forward. From the way her flannel dress clings to her, it may as well be transparent.
“Yes, I guess it is at that!” Nicholas answers. He promptly shoots his wad, right through his ragged slacks. :eek: This embarrasses him and Jeanette; I hand him some paper towels. He slips over into the restroom to clean himself off. :o 
I excuse myself and cross the street to the office of the Courier-Times to place an ad. Alice and I had discussed this and we used the phrasing suggested by Mr. Galloway. The ad I place in the Personals column, to run for four days, reads:
To ARGO RANK: I accept your invitation to discuss the matter openly. We can talk about details. E-mail me at aterwilliger@britannia.com and I will reply. Sincerely, _________.
I pay for the ad and return to the Morpheus. Now we want to discuss Nicholas’ gem cache, but first I meet with Alice separately. She is still wearing the red gingham dress, without underwear, perhaps to keep my attention away from Jeanette Strong, who isn’t wearing underwear either. :rolleyes:
In any case, she and I meet in the small dressing room closest to the proscenium arch. We sit next to each other in chairs at a small card table. (Mr. Galloway, Fred, and Johnny Goss have been playing poker; the Sharps, originally from Indiana, have also been playing euchre there.)
I ask, “Where’s that ‘herring’ book Al alluded to?”
“I keep the original in a safe-deposit box in a bank. And I went to the trouble of having four facsimile copies made—just as a precaution. I have them scattered about.” She probably means she just keeps them in various hidden locations—the eggs shouldn’t all be in one basket…
I also say, “We could perhaps use the locker area here as a meeting place—it was fitted as a fallout shelter around 1958 and would be just as resistant to ‘rifts’ and such as the catacombs…”
Alice demurs. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea; I might want to try to use that VFW building near here—you know, where Lemoyne tried to tear the poster down in the dark…”
I agree we need to discuss this more, later. “And as for the other critters in the Stygian cavern below the basement, when Al contacts us we’ll find out from him how to talk to the creatures who don’t speak English.”
“Well, Nicholas probably can do that, and—remember all the creatures reacted when I said ‘Lemoyne,’ and we don’t know that he knew any languages other than English. After all, that Morlock spoke English. And, oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that: What did he mean when he said ‘We’ll scoot out of here like Potrzebie!’?”
“That was a line from an issue of Mad in the comic-book era,” I answer. “In the story ‘Poopeye.’ Poopeye eats some spinach and clobbers Superduperman, who is reduced to a plastic doll. The ‘Potrzebie’ line is like one Superduperman spoke at that point.”
Now I sit across two chairs, with Alice on my lap. We’ve set our glasses on the table and just relax, cuddling and smooching lightly. 
After a little of this we get up and head out back toward the stage. Alice slips her underwear back on. Then we meet Louise Brown and Red Nicholas, who seem to be in a thoughtful conversation.
“Anything we should know about?” Alice asks.
“You may,” answers Nicholas. “Ms. Brown and I were discussing the gem stash—because, I honestly don’t know where all of it is.” I’m skeptical about this but I listen. “Go on,” I say.
“Louise claims she can detect the presence and amount of any kind of wealth; all she needs is to be within ordinary olfactory range. That is, if something like a rose, or garbage, is close enough for us to smell it—well, if money, gems, or precious metals are that close, she can detect them.”
“Sounds like Cricket O’Dell in the Archie comics,” I comment.
“Yes, and I read the Archie comics for years, “ Louise answers. “For example, _____, I can tell you have exactly $71.10 with you.”
I count out my money from my wallet and my pockets—including an old Eisenhower dollar coin I’ve carried for years. Louise is absolutely right!
“Stan gets flustered when I tell him I know he’s just been paid,” she adds with a mischievous twinkle in her big brown eyes. “So we can go down into the basement, or wherever, in the Morpheus, and find the stash right away.” Nicholas nods.
Now the day is about over. We go to the showers—which Jack Sharp had rebuilt; they adjoin the restrooms behind the stage—and among the others there are Arthur and Daniel, who had come with their wives to watch Alice. For once, anyway, Daniel didn’t interrupt the tryst between Alice and me in the dressing room. The brothers had just won a semipro soccer game, and go to shower. Arthur finished first; now the only ones undressing to use the shower are Daniel and me. This is fortunate, since, I believe, the only other male who knows about my wings is Salbert.
I get a towel and fold it outside a shower stall. Just before Daniel slips into another stall, I happen to see his “manhood”—and I assume his intimate encounters with Hermione must really be ecstatic for her! :eek:
“I’m sorry, Daniel—I couldn’t help but notice that! I guess not many guys are that well endowed.” In fact, I’m embarrassed even to have made such a statement. :o
Daniel, however, isn’t embarrassed. He speaks in a civil manner to me now, and seems quite proud of himself…
But it has everything else—pepperoni, sausage, olives (black and green), onions, pineapple, bell pepper—and I expect to see the kitchen sink! 