Chapter 75: Uncle Harry’s Party

Saturday, June 5, 1971

A party’s a party, right?

Wrong!

I’ll admit it. I have never attended an ‘A’ List party before. In fact, the last party I can remember attending was for my nephew’s seventh birthday. So I had no real idea what to expect.

Harrison Beauregard’s home looked even larger than Seven Oaks, as we passed through the ornate gates. Catherine had been right, the press was camped out. I began scanning, looking for signs of hostile intent. But there were so many people; I was almost overwhelmed before we even got in the door. I detected no problems though.

Uncle Harry greeted us at the door. As Catherine and Liz made the introductions, he spent a moment complimenting each of the girls, but I believe he was truly amazed at how Catherine looked tonight.

We made our way through the opulent home to the back terrace. The whole back yard, all the way to the shore, was decorated in a stunning array of lights and sounds. Several party tents had been erected and housed tables that were piled high with food and drinks. To one side of the terrace, a large orchestra played.

People were everywhere, talking and having a good time. The girls just stared at the sight. Randi quickly spotted a Hollywood actor she recognized, and the girls began whispering excitedly among themselves. Liz suggested we walk around so we headed in the general direction of the tent with the food. That was great, because I had forgotten to eat earlier, and my stomach was starting to rumble.

No one seemed to be paying much attention to us. While teenagers at one of these parties were not the norm, we weren’t unusual enough to raise much comment. The reason most of the people were here, was ‘to see and be seen’. Like the golf course, much business would be informally discussed here tonight, to be followed up on, in the days to come.

I noticed Kip and Penny shadowed us, while David and Beth stayed near the adults. We helped ourselves to the buffet, and found a large round-top table, where we could all sit and still see everything going on.

I was scanning the crowd when I felt Anna.

“Is your father here yet?” I thought to her.

“Yeah. He talking with that group of people over by the fountain,” she thought.

“Oh. I see him,” I replied. There were a lot of secrets in that group. I didn’t want to take the energy right now to probe, but I was beginning to realize there was a lot of interesting information in the group of people attending this party.

“Michael, come ask your grandmother to dance,” Anna thought to me.

I did as instructed, telling the girls I would be right back.

Catherine was standing next to a group of women who seemed to be wives of various business men or politicians.

“Grandmother, would you care to dance?” I asked.

Catherine quickly agreed, looking delighted that I had asked.

As I led her to the dance floor, a photographer approached us and asked if he could take our picture. Catherine paused and put her hand through my arm and smiled. He took a couple of quick shots, thanking us as he moved on.

“Thank you. Sybil had me trapped, telling me all about her latest surgery,” she said once we were on the dance floor.

I just smiled. I was enjoying having her in my arms again.

“Harry asked me if you’d be willing to meet with the press. He says that he can avoid it, if you want, but I gathered that he would appreciate if you did,” she said. “Do you feel up to it?”

“Sure. Will you be with me?” I asked.

“Of course!”

As the song ended, Catherine said, “Ask Kalani to dance. I’ll go talk to Uncle Harry.”

After the next song ended, Catherine was there with Harry.

“Michael, thank you for doing this. I’ve arranged to let them meet with you on the west veranda. It’s out of sight of the party, but close by. My security people are setting it up. Before we go over there, there’s someone else I’d like you to meet.

“Is anybody up for doing a press conference with me?” I thought to the girls.

“You’re doing a press conference?” Julie asked.

“C’mon. Meet me at the door where we came outside,” I thought.

“Michael, this is Punch Sulzberger. Some of the people you are going to meet in a few minutes work for him. Punch is the publisher of the ‘Times’. Punch, this is Michael Wagner. Michael will be taking over Wagner Industries soon,” Harry said.

“How old are you, son,” he asked.

“I’m sixteen, Sir. How old are you?” I replied.

Punch Sulzberger looked surprised. Then he laughed and said, “Why, I’m forty-six, as a matter of fact.”

I just looked at him and smiled. I scanned and saw that he was trying to decide whether to give the go-ahead for his paper to begin publishing a series of articles on what would eventually become known as the ‘Pentagon Papers’.

“Mr. Sulzberger, may I ask you a question, Sir?”

“Go ahead.”

“If I told you that I can ‘see’ the future, would you believe me?” I asked.

“What kind of question is that?” he replied.

“For instance, the series of articles that Neil Sheehan wrote based on Ellsberg’s leak of the Pentagon Papers.

“Whatthefuck!” Punch shouted louder than intended. “How the fuck did you know about that?”

He waved and smiled to a few guests who had heard his outburst. Then asked Uncle Harry, “Harry, would you excuse us a moment?”

Harry looked at me.

“I’ll be fine. It will only take a minute,” I told him.

Sulzberger took my arm, leading me a few steps away.

“Okay kid, spill it! Where did you get that information from? You working for the Feds?”

“Mr. Sulzberger, as you are going to find out shortly, my history is easy to document. Until nineteen days ago, I was in a coma, the result of a traffic accident that killed my parents. When I woke up, I had no memory of my past, but found that I can ‘see’ certain things in the future. Now it’s only been about three weeks, but everything I have ‘seen’ so far has been one hundred percent accurate.”

“Yeah, Right. You still haven’t explained how you know about the ... ah ... articles,” he replied, unconvinced.

“But I just did. Let me give you an example. If you publish those articles starting next Sunday, the Justice Department will seek an injunction, and you’ll appeal and win. In fact, you will have a Supreme Court ruling, 6-3, in your favor before the month is out,” I told him.

He was running it over in his mind.

“And,” I added, “You’ll win another Pulitzer for them.”

“How do I know this isn’t some sort of set-up?” he asked.

“You don’t. But like I said, I’ve seen the future, and you will do exactly what I have said. What I need, is for you to believe me. I’m aware of a few other things that are going to happen, and I need someone like you to tell me how to stop them.”

“You’re doing this for advice? Why don’t you just write ‘Dear Abby’?” Sulzberger said, but with much less confidence.

“I’m asking for nothing now. Go on to London. Think about what it would be like to have an occasional heads up, or advance knowledge, on future events,” I said.

I could see his mind was rapidly processing my statement, evaluating the potential gain against the significantly reduced risk. If I was right!

“Oh, by-the-way. Bagdikian will publish it a week from next Friday. He was told that you have had them since March, but won’t take the risk. I have to go now, and meet the other esteemed members of your profession, it seems. It was a pleasure to speak with you, Sir,” I said walking away. *

Harry grabbed my arm, leading me to the west veranda. The girls and Jason, as well as Catherine and Anna were standing there waiting.

Catherine just looked at me with an inquiring glance. I touched her arm, to let her know I was going to share something with her, and gave her my memory of my meeting with the publisher of the New York Times.

She looked at me questioningly.

“I’ll explain later,” I thought to her.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” she thought back.

I smiled at her as Harry asked, “Are you ready, Michael?”

“Let’s do it.”

“It shouldn’t be too bad. Most of them,” referring to the reporters, “are just trying to beat their deadline for the Sunday editions,” Harry told me.

Harry offered his arm to Catherine. I did the same to Mikeya and Ileana, following Harry and Catherine up the steps to the veranda.

The flashes from the cameras sizzled like frying bacon as we approached the assembled reporters and photographers. I scanned for danger, but there was nothing life-threatening. There were several thoughts of resentment at being sent to cover something as typically boring as a teenager at a party on a Saturday night. But most were just looking for the proverbial ‘story’.

We stopped in front of a cluster of microphones, as the flashes continued. Harry, with Catherine still on his arm, stood waiting in front of the group. The girls were a little intimidated, but gave their best smiles as we waited for the flashes to subside. The photographers were eating it up. Nine beautiful teenage girls, dressed to the nines. This was tabloid fodder for sure.

“Gentlemen, the board of directors of Wagner Industries met yesterday and tentatively approved the appointment of the founder’s grandson, Michael Gregory Wagner the Third, as President of Wagner Industries. This is in accordance with his grandfather’s wishes. For now, Michael will be continuing his education, and at the same time, learning about Wagner Industries,” Harry told them.

It was obvious he had done this many times before.

“As most of you know, Michael, and his sister Nicole, lost their parents in a horrible automobile accident in April. Michael was also in the automobile at the time, receiving injuries that left him in a coma until a few weeks ago. Since then, he has been working to recover from multiple fractures and a severe head injury which left him with a form of amnesia that keeps him from remembering certain details of his life, prior to waking up,” Harry continued to inform them.

“Who are all the chicks?” shouted someone.

“The young ladies surrounding him include his sister and his cousins, and two young ladies who are here visiting with their mother from Tapato. Now, are there any questions?”

“Michael, what makes you think you’re qualified to run a company as big as Wagner industries?” was the first one.

“Owning a big part of it, I guess,” I said trying to sound as youthful as I could.

There was a rumble of laughter that ran through the press corp.

“Actually, the leadership that’s in place will continue to run Wagner Industries. My appointment is more to help the company to be in compliance with my grandfather’s vision for its future,” I explained. “My main goal is to graduate from high school, and get into college.”

“How are you feeling? Have you recovered from your injuries?”

“All except for the memory loss. I’m still working on that.”

“How bad is it?”

“How bad is what?”

“How bad is your memory loss?”

“What memory loss?” I deadpanned. They all laughed at that.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t picking on you. It was just too good to pass up. My head trauma specialist, Doctor Anna Carter, is right there,” I pointed to Anna, who waved her hand slightly. “She can explain all the terminology later, if you’re really interested.”

“Where have you been since you got out of the hospital?”

“My family took me to a resort out west for a couple of weeks of R&R.”

“ ... you not gonna tell us where?”

“Nope. I don’t own it, so I’m not gonna give ‘em any free advertising!” I replied with a grin.

Of course, that brought another chuckle from the press guys, and many of the other guests who had gathered around the reporters to see what was going on.

There were several more questions in that vein, but they had not been prepared to meet me, so they weren’t quite sure what to ask. That wouldn’t be the case, next time. Finally someone asked about the girls.

“Michael? Would you introduce us to your family?”

Starting with my sister and my grandmother, I went down the list, giving their name and their relation to me. Vickie, I introduced as my personal assistant. Finally I came to the prince and princesses.

“I’d like to introduce Princess Mikeya, Heir to the Throne of Tapato,” I told them, “her sister, Princess Ileana, and their brother Prince Jason.”

Then holding out my hand for Kalani to join me, I said, “Gentlemen, may I present, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Kalani, of the Sovereign Nation of Tapato.”

The flashbulbs started popping like a fireworks factory on fire!

“Your Majesty! Who are...”

“Your Majesty! Why are you here?”

“Gentlemen. Queen Kalani is visiting the United States with her son and daughters and are my guests for a few weeks,” I explained.

The flashes started again as the news of a ‘royal’ vibrated with excitement through the tired news corps.

They started again with the questions, but I cut them off.

“I want to thank you gentlemen for your interest, although I fail to see how a sixteen year old with amnesia could be of any interest to your readers. I must get this group back to the party now. Thank you, and good night.”

Then, offering Kalani my arm, I led the way back to the party.

After that, my evening was filled with a never-ending stream of introductions. I stayed near the girls, as Catherine, or Harry, would bring someone over for me to meet. I met a lot of people with important sounding titles, scanning them as we talked. There were lots of secrets that weren’t really secrets, I noted. It seemed that quite a few people already knew about Intel’s soon to be announced microprocessor.

I got to meet the Mayor of New York, John Lindsay, and his wife, Mary Anne. I also met Pete Rozelle, and his daughter, Anne Marie, who said she was thirteen, but acted older. I actually talked more with her than I did with her dad. She is a football fanatic, and knows the Mara family very well. So I tried teasing her about the Jets’ win over Baltimore two years ago. Until I found out that she knew Joe Namath personally. She said she even had a crush on him when she was little, but they were just good friends now.