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LEFSElover

Executive Chef
Joined
Oct 19, 2004
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...lala land..............
...to the story, let's see where it travels to if anywhere...
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He started out saying, "four, three, two..." I didn't know where he was going with this. I never can figure Gerran out. What makes this guy tick? At almost 7 feet tall with that massive blue black curly hair and those out of character freckles across his nose, you often wonder what he's thinking and how he comes up with his odd notions.

Didn't matter though, he was still taking me out to dinner at a favorite dive in town. Meeting up with his obnoxious sister wasn't anything I was looking forward to, but then, she always did have great stories she'd end up telling. The nights are always long when she's there. But I always find out something new about her and her altogether 'still' very secretive life. And there's that never ending twitch too.

She never did finish that one though. Something about a tree with their initials on it. I never got who the other person was in the initial part and only assumed hers was one of them. Oh well, maybe tonight she'll finish that one before starting a new one.

Gerran picked me up late [as usual] but this time his excuse was...
 
…so ridiculous it had to be true. You just couldn’t make stuff like that up.

“There I was,” Gerran said, “driving down North Poplar Street, when a herd of cattle runs out in front of me! I’m wondering if I had died and gone to some dirt road town in Texas, but no, it was still downtown Atlanta. I turned on the radio and the news said a truck had crashed through the fence at a meat packing plant.”

“Sure,” I said. “Happens at least twice a week around here. Thinking about all that prime rib on the hoof has made me hungry. Let’s go already!”

As we drove toward the restaurant, I prodded Gerran a little. “So why was your sister so insistent about meeting us tonight, of all nights?”

“Oh,” Gerran said, hesitating slightly. “I thought I told you. You see, she…
 
...has a proposition that she's been telling me about over the last few weeks and it's about [and for] you. She's hoping, if she gets you in just the right mood, you'll say yes to her offbeat offer.

She's been pondering opening a specialty boutique in the old Wellsley Library that's just now, gone on the chopping block at a financial steal. Her idea is featuring clothes and jewelry. It must be all handmade and completely unique, one of a kind, very pricey and attract celebrity types. She knows of your mad skills in management and also knows your creative side is unparalleled. But she's concerned that all you do know [about her] may well be the deal breaker. The odd part is, she has contacted a silent partner about funding and his requirements are border line frightening. She's hoping you'll look beyond this if you just agree to say yes.

She's going to tell you all of this at dinner, including who this mystery funder is, but I can't stand this a second longer, so I'm going to tell you.

Getting into the car with new tension mounting, Gerran says, "You won't believe this but it's...
 
…Fred Allomeyer!”
I was shocked, to say the least. “Fred Allomeyer? Isn’t he that eccentric billionaire who lives in that weird igloo thing up in the Arctic Circle? I thought he had pretty much shut himself off from the world.”

“That’s the thing,” Gerran said. “He does live up there, but it is some fancy igloo. It is actually very palatial and has all the amenities, and then some. At least that’s what Sis said.”

“You mean Marti has seen it?” I sputtered.

“Yeah,” Gerran exclaimed, “she saw it when she brought him a picture. I guess he misses seeing more than snow out of his window. She brought him a big framed picture of a tree. I could have thought of a lot more interesting trees than that one to bring him a photo of. You remember that old pecan tree at the back of my grandma’s yard? Why on earth would she think he would be interested in that squirrel-ridden thing? It’s probably up in his ‘igloo attic’ as we speak.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I mused. “It might just be above his mantle.” …[next]…

.
 
...in a place of honor. He's that goofy, I hear. How does she know this guy, anyway?, " I wondered aloud as we pulled up in front of the Loco Taco.

"Oh, she and Fred and I were inseparable when we were kids...those are his initials on that tree."

I hurried after him into the restaurant. As always with Gerran, I had more questions than answers, and I was brimming with them.

But seeing Marti standing by the cash register waiting for us stopped me in my tracks. The Loco Taco is one weird place, but she stood out among the other eccentric customers, wearing....
 
a bathing suit & flip-flops.
it wasn't THAT warm out that day.
we ordered and dined in near silence, until i spoke.
"gerran, we hafta talk, this ought well be said."...
 
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..........."In all my years, " I whole heartedly stammered, "I can only recall a few times when I've needed a serious discussion. I'm a balled up mess and you need to start clearing some things up and now. And what on earth are you doing in that gawd awful outfit? Do you not see that others are dressed in real clothes?"

Gerran just looked perplexed and stumped as usual. He mustered a stern voice and screeched, "Let's grab that table over there, it looks the most private. Maybe we can get some stuff on the table [so to speak]."

Marti and that dang twitch of hers was really starting to get my goat but then, she always did get this way when she was about to be put on the spot. Always a tell tell sign of something about to happen or be said.

As we sat, she opened up. "Garren, you wanted to start a new business and asked me for help. Well, now it's time to tell Carmie about it don't you think?" "What? Oh no you don't. You're not going to pull me into this. It's you with this scheme, NOT me!" Garren was mad enough to stand up straight and hit his head on the ceiling. I don't remember ever seeing him that red in the face.

All I could do was hope for a normal response, but then, we're talking Marti here and that just doesn't seem...
 
likely to happen. And it didn't. The two had never really gotten along, not since their parents had divorced and placed them with their aunt and uncle in Denver as foster parents. Denver had suited Garren's skiing passion but Marti had grown withdrawn and skittish of public areas. Now, just when she was coming out of her shell, she tried to deflect the limelight and...
 
..........found herself in the same uncomfortable stammering reality she knows only too well.

Garren's expression tells me he's ill at ease and as is normal for him, I can read him like a book, he gets out of the situation by dodging to the Amigo's room. I'd like to go to the Amiga's room myself, to have a moment to sit and figure out how this night will work.

I turn to Marti and say, "You know, it's been an awkward day all the way around. How bout you and I ordering a Margarita while Garren's in the restroom, and we'll get down to brass tacks when he returns." Surprisingly enough, Marti looks more at ease in her chair now. If that's possible in the spindly things they call dining chairs.

As she and I make small talk, we both settle in on the same thing and at about the same time. Where is...
 
Garren? He's taking an awfully long time in the Amigo's room! I turn to Marti to see if someone should check on him when over her shoulder I see Neil approaching our table. I haven't seen Neil in about 10 years and while his appearance has changed, it certainly hasn't improved with age. His thinning hair is now gone completely and his nose has enlarged with his constant drinking. He's put on a bit of weight in the wrong places and his smile is still as smarmy as ever. He sidles up to me and says...
 
..."good goll, is that you, I mean really you? How long's it been? Not over a year right? You look swell, how 'bout me?" In horror, I try to mentally disappear, but, he's caught me before the great escape, now what do I do?
 
I smiled sweetly and started to respond, then craned my neck to look into the distance and shouted "Oh my gosh, is that Garren over there?"

He swiveled to look and I said in a disappointed voice, "No, I guess it's not." I didn't have to feign disappointment. Where was he? "Listen, Neil, would you do me a favor? Would you meander over to the Amigos room and see if Garren is in there? I'm getting worried about him."

He returned almost immediately with a stricken look on his face. "You're not going to believe this," he said.......
 
"The bartender told me Garren has been arrested!"
"Whatever for!" I shouted.
Neil could only look at the floor as he said under his breath, "soliciting and drugs."
I was about to faint and sat down quickly. Suddenly, ...
 
it became all to clear. The late night rendezvous, the calls at all hours of the day, the suddent trips to Columbia. How could I have been so clueless? I was jsut aneasy alibi for Garren. But I still love him so. Even though it appears he's been using me, how can I discount all those romantic getaways, and the way he made me feel so special. No one has ever treated my like a queen before Garren. In some ways, I have him to thank for my current self confidence. Before Garren I would never have had the courage to ask for that promotion at work. I would never have thought about sending my manuscript to a publisher. Now, with my first novel about to debut, I thought we were finally in place where we could get married and settle down, start a family. But just my luck, he turns out to be a scam artist! Marti seems equally suprised by this news of Garren's nephareous activities. How could he have kept this from his sister? Maybe he...
 
...already told her. I can't think about her knowing all this time, no, that couldn't be, maybe he's a master manipulator. All of this time, I thought I knew him so well. How could he have kept something like this from me? I'm his confidant. Or so I thought, what else is there? How can I live like this?

Where will I find the strength, where will he? Maybe, before my mind goes in full panic, I'd better...
 
...sit and have that drink and calm down.

Just as my heart finally begins to slow down, I glance over at Marti. She looks like someone has just hit her in the back of the head with a bag of bricks. I knew then that Marti had no idea what was going on with Garren.

"Marti, come sit with me," I gently prod. Marti sits down with a loud and long sigh. She looks so confused. As the tears begin to fall, she whimpers...
 
"I have to get in touch with Fred. He's our only hope. If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened."

I was flummoxed. What did she mean? What did Fred have to do with it? And how could she get in touch with him?

"Marti," I said, putting my hand on her arm to comfort her (and steady myself), "You need to be honest with me. Clearly, there's alot going on here that I don't know about, and I can't help if you don't tell me."

She gulped and wiped a tear from her face. "Garren always knew this could happen. The work we do is dangerous and we were always told that if we got caught, we would be disavowed."

"Disavowed! By whom."

She took a drink from my margarita. "Well, the government, I think. Only Fred knows for sure. We get our orders from him"

Just then, her cell phone rang............
 
it was him.
she wiped a tear and sniffled before she answered.
a hesitant, 'hello'... i'm in the slammer. i need cigarettes.'
she began to shake & stutter. she was next.
"garren, i'm gonna go to california tonite & stay at a motel. i'll call you when i arrive."
 
...but how am I going to get there? What will my plan be once I am there? Who can I call for help? Is there a person on earth that may have an answer to my impossible plight?

A man came over to the table. His dark face had a mysterious feature of non emotion. He took Marti's arm and said, "You need to come with me. It's over for you."

I sat there in horror. My body was glued to the seat. "I think you know who sent me." His gravel was worse than his demeanor as then he gruffed, "Fred told me, now it's your.......
 
life and if you know what's good for you, you will come with me."

Marti looked terrified as they walked away from the table. Somehow, through my shock, I thought I heard Elvis singing "Heartbreak Hotel" and realized my phone was ringing. As I fumbled around my purse searching for my phone, I saw Neil smirking in the corner.

"Hello?"
"Hi! This is Fred. I just want to let you know that everything will be fine."
"How can you know that? Garren has been arrested and Marti was just dragged out of here by some creepy guy!"
"I know. We made it look like an arrest for Garren's protection. He's been working undercover for me in the Russian mob for the past 3 years but we think his cover was blown. This was the only way we could protect him. As for Marti, the creepy guy is my partner, Jackson, and he will get Marti out of town safely. But you have to be careful since you have been seen with them. I suggest you leave in a few minutes but don't go home or you will followed."
"Where should I go?"
"That's up to you. I don't have authorization to protect you since you weren't involved in the case."
"Well, thanks a bunch!"
"Take care, Molly. I'll be in touch."

Now what was I to do? I couldn't go home. As I finished my margaretia, I thought about everything that happened. Suddenly it occured to me that...
 
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