Chapter 16 Touring Germany
Musical Theme; That Kind of Thing by J.J. Ames
When Will got back to the hotel, he connected the camera with the laptop, and did his usual. Copy to the memory thumb, which would go by mail to his house, and Hank would put it in the safe deposit box. Copy the pix, raw, to Aurora and the backups. At Aurora, they understood that bad shots would be in the pile. What mattered was that the irreplaceable perfect shot would not be lost. The upload was automatically saved off site a thousand miles away, something that would seem odd, if Will bumped the shutter by accident, and took a picture of the floor, that picture might be kept for 100 or even 1000 years.
Chrissie was already in bed, so he got in with her.
* * *
In the morning, the Lear took them to the bus, and they went on with the tour. The itinerary was in the hands of Poquita, who could wake up to the phone, answer questions, add a stop to the list, memorize the travel times and directions, and be asleep again in five minutes. She left slack in it because Marcie tended to want to visit every village they passed. She would sit in the square and be photographed, then run around and buy things from the locals, and give out catalogs. Aurora was putting captions on the pix, saying where they had been taken, and also putting in little pieces about the history of some tiny village Marcie had been in for a half hour. Marcie gave the impression that she loved everyone she met in all those places because she did.
Father James worked Teresa very hard, speaking softly so that he almost could not be heard. She learned the history of everywhere they went. She read the classics, learned the basics of a dozen languages, and the life sciences. Will taught her math, physics and chemistry. Chrissie heard him once telling her “I already told you it’s discontinuous at x=7. What’s so hard about that?” A fifteen year old girl being berated for not knowing a function was discontinuous. She seemed to take to it, though. By the time they got to Portugal, she could explain how a nuclear reactor worked, and the fundamentals of steel heat treating. When she explained the drive train of a main battle tank, and the external ballistics of heavy machine guns, it started getting pretty easy to guess where her information was coming from.
They went through France, where they were quite popular. They visited designers, photographers, artists, and writers. Marcie told reporters that France was ‘probably the nicest place in the world.’ She was photographed everywhere from villages to Paris. In Paris, she walked around on the street in negligees. The French police were interested, but mainly in getting their pictures taken with Marcie, or perhaps something else, which Marcie did a good deal of. Some pix were shot in police stations, with Marcie in outfits even she would not have worn on the street. She was in custody. She was in a cell. She was kissing cops. She was on the shooting range in a bra and panties, shooting under the direction of a French policeman. The poster printer was using ink by the case.
From France, they went to England. Marcie and Teresa were photographed on Tower Bridge, in front of Big Ben, and particularly in the coastal areas, where they could wear their swimsuits. They entertained the nation, as Marcie tends to do. She became very upset when she found that a lot of the Marcie Della stuff was unlicensed. Will hired one of the most prominent of English law firms to sue the pirates. Marcie told the press, “I have worked very hard for what I have, and I share it. I gave half a million dollars to English charities last week. The people who take my name and picture, and sell things they have no right to sell are thieves. They are stealing from the people I try to help. You people who do these things, you will be sorry.” It turned out they were. The law firm got some pretty substantial judgments, took most of the money in fees, but turned a fair amount over to various charities. Marcie took nothing. This was a lesson in Koefoed’s rule of dog kicking. If you plan on going around kicking dogs, learn what a pitbull looks like first.
They finished the English tour, and it was time to go to Ireland. They picked up a little guy named Sean. All their stuff went in the seven three. Everyone slept, and woke up at the airport. A chartered bus had all their stuff, and so off they went. They went everywhere. Some heavy dudes rode with them. Sean taught the girls to say good morning, good afternoon and such in Gaelic. Marcie told reporters that “Ireland, you have to see it from the air. It’s so green. This is such a pretty place!”
They never passed a pub. Marcie and Sean would go in hand in hand. Sean would get them a pint, and Marcie would drink about an ounce. They would take some pix, and offer the pub a poster with the owner or bartender on it, just right for this spot here. The time from the picture being taken to the poster being framed and ready to go on the wall vanished into nothing. Teresa trailed, said very little, and wore a different outfit at every stop. She worked on her makeup and smiles, and wandered through the scenes, sometimes being picked out by the camera. Her Auntie gave her a few tips here and there. She brought in the art of walking around with a catalog or a few, and forgetting them on the tables. The rule was, never go in without a catalog, and never bring one out with you.
Marcie weighed in on ‘The Troubles’. “The Irish are awfully nice people. It’s too bad to see them wanting to hurt each other.”
They went here and there, and of course, were photographed in the castles, and such places. Marcie and Teresa ran around in fields in expensive jeans, and wore sweaters and jackets on the cooler days, examining sheep with men who knew about sheep; our ladies possibly able to sort them from the donkeys. They strolled about harbors in outfits that might have looked nautical to someone other than a merchant seaman. They stood watching the sunset, and the dawn. They rode around in a rowboat, which, luckily, was not under their direct control.
And then, they had done Ireland. They got on the seven three and went to Germany, where they met their own bus. They were photographed at lots of castles and historic places. They sampled some of the world’s finest beers. They went to a zoo in Munich, and petted lions. Marcie said ‘Lions are a lot bigger than you might think.’ Father James had taught Teresa a little German, and she thought it was really cool. They headed for the hotel.
Aurora exercised a little known part of the contract that allowed it to sort of put Teresa on hold, and she was enrolled in a college in Vienna. Her tuition and expenses were paid, but Aurora could take her back at the end of the semester.
Will called Ken Burns at Aurora. “Ken, Will.”
“How are you, Will?”
“Just fine. Look, Teresa is someone else’s client, but I would just sort of like to know.”
“We want her to finish college. So she works summers, and that keeps her in our family for a few more years.”
“You’re spending a lot of money on her, and keeping her in control. You aren’t pulling anything on her, Ken?”
“Grooming her to be our point chick when Marcie retires.”
“Marcie has a few years left in her.”
“Sure, Will. We can suspend her, too. We think she will be in Hollywood in the next six months, so we will say she can suspend. She shoots a movie, then a catalog a year or two from now. Teresa goes to college, and spends her summers shooting catalogs, and that extends her time, but eventually our time runs out, and we find the next Teresa. We have it all thought out, and we are not doing anyone wrong. You know what the big worry is, here?”
“They won’t do you wrong. No, I don’t see it.”
“The problem is where we find the next Will Ames.”
“I could give you a hundred good fashion photographers.”
“But I know exactly one who knows not the right second to take the pic, but the right millisecond to take the pic. Marcie knows exactly how to pose, but she learned it from you. You can make Teresa into another Marcie, but only God can make another William Ames, and He might choose not to.”
“You have four years. If you can’t make your pile in that time, it will not be the fault of me, or Marcie or Teresa, who, remember is only 15.”
“As of tonight, she will be 16. Your secretary, Poquita, has her present from Aurora already. It’s a necklace in gold and blue star sapphires.”
“OK, Ken. Thanks for everything.”
“I will hear from you soon, no doubt, Will.”
They hung up.
Will went to Poquita’s room.
“Birthday party in thirty.”
“What?”
“You didn’t read your messages. Will, get dressed for a birthday party, we will have it downstairs in 30 minutes. You are giving Teresa a cell phone with everything she could want. A year of service, unlimited calling.”
Will ran up and took a shower. He got into some fairly respectable clothes, and went looking for Chrissie, whom he could not find. He tapped on Marcie’s door. She answered, still partly dressed. “Get a camera, Will, we only have 20 minutes.”
Will got the camera and came downstairs. He went into a banquet room as directed by a waiter, and took the seat he was offered. There were a few guys hanging around the corners of the room that Will was glad had not been around in 1942.
Marcie and Teresa breezed into the room. They were wearing white evening gowns with lots of tulle and such. If their feet touched the ground, it was imperceptible. They were seated. A waiter opened a bottle of champagne and poured a glass for Teresa. Will stood. “Excuse me, Sir, she is 16.”
The gentleman next to Will showed him a badge and ID. It identified him as a Major in the military police. “In this room, tonight, she is old enough, Sir.”
“You may serve her.”
The waiters went around filling champagne glasses.
“A major in the military police for a birthday party?”
“Yes, Sir, Germany takes terrorism very seriously.”
“Major, you need not call me ‘Sir’. I’m Will. I may call you Erwin?”
“You may, Sir.”
“Will.”
“Sir, you should call in. I can assure you that a Major calls you Sir.”
Will asked to be excused, and went up to his suite, and opened the attaché case carefully. It could blow up in your face, literally. He dialed a number. “Kitty calling.”
“How is my cat?”
“German military police say some how I outrank a major, is how I get it. This guy is wrong, somehow?”
“Last time I checked, a major is outranked by a one star.”
“Why I was not told?”
“You didn’t check in.”
“That’s a big jump.”
“And it’s classified, but the Germans know, and I know why they know, and I am not upset about it. Go to the party.”
“Yes, Sir.”
They disconnected. Will went back down and resumed his seat. He motioned for the guy next to him to trade seats with Chrissie, and they did it.
He whispered into Chrissie’s ear. “We’re not in field grade any more, Toto.”
She gave him a quick hug.
The party proceeded, and eventually it came to the presents. A small but stylish pair of earrings from Poquita and Quint. Father James gave her a small antique silver cross. Marcie gave her the best one, a laptop in a soft case. She plugged it in, and the desktop came up. You could see the same thing in the little cd case that was with it, but it was all on the desktop. A photo editor, Microsoft Office, Firefox, anti virus software, and all that sort of thing. It was not clear why Marcie thought she needed computer aided drafting. When she unwrapped Will and Chrissie’s present, the cell phone, she didn’t seem to know what it was. Poquita plugged it in to the laptop and turned it on. She flicked a few keys, and put Teresa on the net, and from there to hubblesite.org, and the great nebula in Orion. She selected “Ultra Deep Field Galaxies” for the desktop background. The most amazing picture ever taken by man. It shows a field of galaxies with no end in sight. If each of these little things is a galaxy of 100 billion stars like ours, we should be a little bit humble, and that is why your author has that pic on his own desktop, to remind him of how important he is not.
Teresa eventually understood from Poquita that she could use the net any time, and call anyone she liked, anywhere in the world, and talk as long as she liked. Also that it was not a question of if someone was listening, it was who. Therefore anything that had to do with her itinerary or especially Will’s business should not be discussed.
Then we got to the real business, the gift from Aurora.
“Teresa, Aurora is very happy with your work, and has sent you a real special birthday present.”
“What is it, Poquita?”
Poquita handed her the little box. Teresa opened it. She lifted out the necklace. These are wonderful, Poquita, what are they?”
“Star sapphires.” She put it on Teresa.
Teresa looked into the mirror, and saw the stars showing in the deep blue stones. “This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!”
“Be careful with it, Teresa. It’s worth a lot of money.
“Why are they giving me this?”
“Because you did such a good job. Now you make them proud in college.”
“Why am I going to college already?”
“Father James and Will said you are ready. You can call them on that phone any time. Father James will do a video conference any time. You can discuss your homework with him, and he wants to do that. Will is busy, but he will make time for you if you need help.
Father James came over. “I have a proposed class schedule for you. You don’t need to take these courses, but I think they would be worth while.”
They were
Introduction to German
Trigonometry and Math Analysis (English)
Introduction to Physics (English)
Health Science and First Aid (English)
“I can take courses in Vienna in English?”
“Sure. Europe is a multi lingual place.”
“I think, though, we should focus on German from now on.”
“Not a bad idea. We will do it.”
They tore into it, with German grammar and sentence structure. They stayed up until the wee hours. They went to their rooms and slept.
* * *
In the morning, everyone got breakfast at the hotel restaurant, and got on the bus. Will noticed Father James and Teresa speaking quietly as always, but now it was in German. When they stopped for lunch, Teresa was put to translating everyone’s orders. The waitress stood, patient, acting as if she had no idea of what the English meant. She probably spoke about 7 languages, but for today, English, the international language whether you like it or not, was incomprehensible. She pointed at details of the menu listings, and asked in German if the lady meant that the distinguished Father wanted Roquefort dressing. She confirmed it in English, with a man who taught German literature in German. The waitress left to take in their order.
Will, Chrissie and Poquita acted like they had no idea what it all was. Father James continued to speak quietly in German to Teresa. When they were served, the waitress looked at Father James and Teresa with a sly grin.
Would there be anything else?
Teresa asked around, and no, there wasn’t anything.
She told the waitress this, and she left.
The gang ate their food happily, except for Marcie, who seemed to not like to eat. It would be conceivable that she maintained her figure by not eating much, but she seemed to eat less than it would take to run around like she did. She pushed things around with a fork for a while, and then pronounced herself done. Will left a $20 tip and took his bill to the register, and paid there with a credit card.
They went on visiting everyone and giving out catalogs and posters. The funny little phone in the briefcase rang. Will had the bus stopped, and went outside, sitting on the curb by the engine, with a fine view of the tires, and spoke with someone for a few minutes. He closed the briefcase and got back in the bus. “Poquita, I have to go for a couple of days.” He handed a piece of paper with directions on it to the driver. They got underway.
“Call Ken Burns at Aurora. I think he is going to say suspend the tour while I am gone. We’re going to a house where you guys can have a nice couple of days off. If Ken wants you to tour without me, that’s fine, but I don’t think he will.”
Ken said to suspend the tour, let everyone rest. He did not ask about what Will would be doing. Poquita started calling people they had appointments with, saying they would be delayed. They pulled up to a gate that was opened by a couple of guys who looked like they hadn’t laughed in a decade. The bus came around the back of a very large house and stopped next to a helicopter with no markings on it. Will handed his briefcase phone to one of the guys who didn’t get the joke, and emptied his pockets into a bag the guy held. He got in the helicopter, and it took off.
They were taken into the house, and assigned to rooms. The house was very nice, although not quite like Marcie would have done. There were some nice grounds. Should anyone wish to go out, that would be fine, but they should check with security first. Someone would probably amble along with them at a discreet distance. Marcie was probably thinking of some pretty short distances from certain members of the security staff, but that is not for us to judge, is it?
There was a pool table. Ping pong, video games, a weight room, handball court, indoor pool, a library that, well, had less books than a metropolitan main library, but there should be something to read. There were two home theatres with a collection of movies on DVD so extensive that it required a card catalog on computer, and there was always a chef ready to make whatever you wanted to eat.
Teresa and Father James made for the library. They made a phone call to the college shifting Teresa from German as a foreign language to a reading and writing German class, and she also changed her other courses to be taught in German. The administration staff being pleased. Chrissie went for a swim. Poquita read a manual on UNIX. Marcie asked to be assigned a personal bodyguard. She had someone in mind. Karl, a massive man who looked like he would be in the German equivalent of Special Forces or something like that, where, of course, actually, he was in the German equivalent of Special Forces or something like that. Marcie felt the need to tour the grounds, and Karl stayed at a discreet distance, or at least a discrete distance.
Members of the staff took everything out of the bus, and cleaned it inside and out. A great deal of attention was paid to tools that didn’t seem to be cleaning anything. Still, clothes were washed, the bus was pronounced clean, and everyone’s stuff was put back in.
* * *
Will came back two nights later, in a helicopter that did not use landing lights or bear any markings. Funny how they have these rules about having a tail number, and then some people don’t do it and nothing seems to happen.
Will came in, obviously tired, carrying his clothes in a bag. He took a shower, and changed into them. His overalls had been pressed. This was Germany, after all. They all got together for a late night snack. Will was the only one doing any serious eating. “So, we can go in the morning when everyone is ready. I can sleep on the bus, so if y’all want to roll in ten minutes, it’s fine with me. Poquita, would you get this figured out?”
She did. Everyone wanted to sleep at the house. They would have breakfast at first light. Most likely, they would all go back to sleep on the bus. Poquita updated everyone on the tour by telephone.
Chrissie got her first chance to get screwed by a General, but, as Will explained, getting screwed by a General was not real hard.
Soon, they would fly to Japan and get on another bus. This one was, at this moment, being painted according to Marcie’s exacting but not excessively modest specifications. It would, of course feature her name in very large letters. Then there were some very well done but somewhat raunchy anime paintings of Marcie. The one Will liked the least was going on the roof. It featured an anime version of Marcie putting her hand in a place where ladies of course do put their hands, but not in public.
Will cuddled Chrissie, and left tomorrow to tomorrow.