Chapter 20

“Big men often tremble,
as they step aside.
I thought I was big once.
She changed my mind.
She’s actual size, but she seems much bigger to me.
I’ve never known anybody like her.
She’s actual size. Nationwide, believe.”
-They Might Be Giants, “She’s Actual Size“

The next day passed quickly. While Julie painted Troy’s portrait during the day, and Maria continued taking on the business of running the country, Colleen showed Susan around the city. Stavro had returned to work at the Citizens’ Grievance Office, which had surprisingly little to handle that day. Even the regulars, who showed up with a new complaint or the same one every day, seemed to understand that La Contessa-In-Reggenza had enough to deal with at the moment, and their neighbor’s yappy dog could wait for another time.

In the evening, Troy and Julie visited Helen together. The doctors agreed that the prognosis was good enough for Dr. Maisson, Jeanne, and a couple of temporary resident nurses to continue her recovery back at the castle. Barring anything happening in the night, she would be released for in-home care the next day.

Helen had gotten Troy and Julie to wheel her down to the cafeteria for a cigarette, and was enjoying every second. She was wearing Propappou’s red smoking jacket, her head and right hand poking out of the garment that was far too big for her. Her left arm was in a sling, completely concealed under the robe; and her right stuck out of a bunched-up sleeve, holding her smoke carefully away from the fabric.

Helen’s morale had been improved by the knowledge that the portrait was done. Julie gave her a message from Maria, followed by insulting Helena for not just saying why she wanted Troy’s portrait so badly. Helena thanked her for the message and insulted her back about why it wasn’t enough that Julie knew she wanted it so much, and then normal conversation was able to continue.

“How’s Susan doing?” Helena asked them, taking a puff.

“Now that she’s not having to keep us from going to pieces,” Julie said, taking a sip of the orange soda that she’d bought. “It’s kind of an adventure for her. She got Ramirez to take her to the...” Julie paused, trying to think of a better word than “assassin” or “Guy who stabbed you.” She settled on “The Fucker’s motel room, and she caught some important details for them.”

Helena smiled.

“Ramirez told me. It sounds like she’s coming along really well with The Thing. I mean, observation is big part of it. And from what he said, it took a lot of confidence to say the things she did.”

Troy reached over and took a sip of Julie’s soda before replying.

“If it wasn’t so hokey, I’d say something about how she’s always had it inside her...”

“It is, Master,” Julie said, cutting him off. “So, please don’t. Unless you were building up to a sex joke, in which case, sorry.” Julie tried to think of a decent sex joke of her own to make, but the moment had passed, so she continued. “But yeah, I love Susan. She got me through the worst day of my life since The Houses were sold.” She thought for a moment. “Wait, no! The worst day since the LAST time we thought you were dead, bitch!”

She thought another moment, and Helen was about to respond when Julie raised her hand.

“You didn’t go to all this to get me to paint the fucking portrait, did you?”

Helen looked down at her abdomen, at the area that was beneath a hospital gown and the folds of Propappou’s jacket; where she could feel the bandages covering her wounds. She pulled down the neck of her gown to show the stitched cut on her right breast, then tilted her neck to show them the cut on the left side.

“The tourism ad campaign after the Festival ends is going to be ‘Visit Our Lovely Beaches.’ As soon as Maisson says I’m able, I’m going to shoot a commercial in a two-piece thong bikini, playing volleyball with a bunch of supermodels. I’m supposed to dive into the sand to return a serve, then stand up, turn to the camera, lower my sunglasses, wink, smile; and give JUST enough nipple-poke and boob-bounce so the talking head shows can make a ‘controversy’ out of it, giving us loads of free advertising. Then, I stage-whisper to the home audience ‘And you never know WHO you’ll meet on the beach!’ I make a cute little shush gesture before rejoin to the game.

“After we get it right, I have to do the whole thing again in nineteen other languages. I’m going to have to get work done on the scars before that, Julie. I want to be able to look at all three of the men I have truly loved in my life, but not enough to risk hurrying up and joining the other two!”

Helen took a deep drag and pulled a thick manila envelope from within the depths of the smoking jacket.

“Besides, I’d never ask an artist to work for free. I’ve always intended to pay you.”

“You know I don’t want; or, thanks to Troy, need money from you, Helena.”

“I said ‘pay, ‘ not ‘insult.’ Those will always be on the house for you, Hon.” She tossed the envelope onto the table, toward her. It landed with a jingling noise. “I know the day The Houses sold was the saddest day of your life; even though we weren’t talking then. I knew you’d be so sad, in fact, that you’d never stop to think ‘Who the fuck would pay asking price, with no haggling, for both your parents’ houses on the same day?’”

Julie gave Helen a shocked look, letting her know that she really hadn’t thought about it much. She let out a small “fu...” sound before stopping herself.

Helen continued.

“They were MY home too, you know. Deed and keys to your new summer place in Anchorage are in there. It’s one property, now that I finally got the tunnel put in. Now, don’t pull that shit again.”

Troy and Julie smiled in silence, but they gave each other a shocked and happy look at the mention of the secret tunnel they’d talked about digging between their two houses since they were all kids.

“Well fuck, thanks, Helena! I’d show you just how grateful I am, but you’re not going to be in any condition for that before we have to go home.” Julie looked at her phone. “We’d better get back and see how Susan’s doing. We’ll try to be here to wheel you home in the morning.”

“No!” Helen replied. “I can’t be seen leaving the hospital in a wheelchair. I have to show the world that this fucker hasn’t gotten to me in the slightest.”

“You were stabbed, Helen.” Troy commented. “And everyone leaves the hospital in a wheelchair. I think it’s a law or something. I know you can change the law with a phone call, but still.”

“Troy,” Helen asked the man that she thought of as “The first boy I ever truly loved.” “Who do you think is the most hated woman in the world?”

“Hilary Cli-”

“Second.”

“You.” Troy answered without hesitation.

“Exactly,” Helen replied. “You’d have liked Vincenzo, Troilus. He believed that kindness could work, too. Do you know just how many people’s agendas that very concept fucks with?

“San Finzione will finish converting to 100% solar and wind power within the next three years. We’re expected to generate a surplus that we can sell to our neighbors. How many oil and nuclear power barons do you think sleep better at night knowing that?

“The government and Società Finzione have a true working partnership where both prosper, but The People always come first. How many industries and government agencies do you think would just have to close their doors if Vincenzo’s ideals of ‘Getting Rich WITHOUT Screwing The People’ caught on in America? How many lobbyists and lawyers alone would suddenly find themselves out of a job?

“With the warlords scattered and in retreat, our troops in Uongo are helping the Uongoians take back their homeland; like the proud, strong people that they’d always been, and I knew that they could be again with a little help from their friends. Anything you do in Africa, good or bad, pisses off somebody.

“Our minimum wage, retirement, and disabled pensions pay enough to survive with dignity. Do we have people on TV arguing that the poor should die, simply for BEING poor! That part happens here, too. But we sure as fuck don’t give someone like that power!

“Carlos Jimenez was NOT the only person in the world to wake up plotting my death that morning. He got through, but Maria can show you the Ultimados’ after-action reports about the couple of hundred that they’ve taken down since Vincenzo and I announced our engagement. I usually don’t even learn about them until I read the next morning’s report.”

Helen took a breath before continuing.

“Lately, especially after our talks the last time you guys came here; I’ve remembered the importance of his vision. Propappou would have liked it, and someone told me he wouldn’t appreciate how I got where I am today.”

Troy looked down, remembering telling her that, before learning her side of the story. She turned to Julie.

“And you, who never stopped being MY Sunflower, too. You thought I’d really fuck an old man to death to for his crown; it was one of the first things you said to me after all that time.”

The look on Helen’s face was too sad to match the anger in her words, as was her voice.

“And I encouraged it in you, I admit; because I would rather have your contempt than your pity and concern, Julie. They’re unbecoming of you; and I got enough when we were kids. It’s the main reason that all of us are together tonight. My petty little ‘wounded bird’ comment aside, don’t think I’ve ever lost sight of that.”

She turned to look at the pair of them, wincing.

“So, no, I can’t afford to allow myself weakness, even in the eyes of the people that I love the most. Those other people who get to leave in a wheelchair aren’t surrounded by cameras when they do it; or have enemies constantly seeking any advantage to exploit. I could take the helicopter, but the doctors are concerned about my stitches and turbulence. Yes, it’s about image; however, no, it’s not about my ego.”

Julie gave an understanding nod, then received a text.

“Well, I’m certain we can come up with something befitting you, Helena. Just a sec.”

Julie typed a response. Under her breath, she muttered as she typed.

“Hey! Yeah, we’re with her right now.” She hit Send and looked back up.

“Hmm,” Helen hummed curiously. “Who was that?”

“Oh, Denise. Young friend I met recently. Helped her out with a problem. Thanks to you, actually.” Julie got a reply. “Denise says to get well soon, by the way. She’s taking care of the house while we’re gone. Huge fan of yours, you ‘talked to her’ once.”

Julie grinned. Helen immediately knew what the grin and emphasis were about.