Chapter 28

“I started as an altar boy, workin’ at the church.
Learning all my holy moves, doing some research,
which led me to a cash box labeled Children’s Fund.
I’d leave the change and tuck the bills inside my cummerbund.
I got a part-time job at my father’s carpet store,
laying tackless stripping, and housewives by the score.
I loaded up their furniture and took it to Spokane,
and auctioned off every last Naugahyde divan.”
-Warren Zevon, “Mr. Bad Example“
Helen Parker pulled herself up onto the roof of the sleeper car, feeling the wind howling in her face, until she stood atop the train. In the light of the full moon, she saw him. Or rather, a steadily-blurring version of the man who was making his way along the roof of the car, about half its length away.

“Dr. Girard!” Helen shouted to the man in French, just before the steam whistle on the Orient Express blew, clutching the stiletto in her hand. “You failed to give me twenty-four hours’ notice before cancelling our appointment! I’m afraid I’m going to have to charge you for the full session!”

“That sound means that we are approaching the Simplon Tunnel, Miss Parker!” The man shouted back, laughing as he produced a long knife of his own. “As a doctor, I would not recommend fighting me in your condition!”

“Here’s my second opinion, Doctor! I’ll have that antidote now!” Helena said, fighting the poison coursing through her veins.

“Over your dead body, Helena!” He cackled as they sprinted toward each other.

The effort was too much, her heart was already pumping, and the poison was working too quickly. The last of her strength faded, and Helen became aware that she’d dropped to her knees. She saw the insane former man-of-medicine bearing down upon her, ready to kill.

As the train’s whistle blew a second time, Helen heard a sound over it; that of a revolver shot, and Dr. Girard dropped dead a few feet in front of her, the stoppered glass vial rolling out of his watch pocket, onto the roof of the train. She reached out for it, but it was rolling faster than her dulled reflexes could reach. As the train entered its final turn before the oncoming tunnel, it rolled toward the edge of the car.

A man’s gloved hand shot out and grabbed the vial at the last possible moment, before it tumbled off the roof and into oblivion. Count Vincenzo Ramon de San Finzione, a silver-haired vision, though dashing at any age, looking roguishly handsome in his emerald green tuxedo; held a smoking revolver in his other hand. He dropped to his knees and set down the gun, cradling her in his arms.

“Helena, my love.” He said to her, breathlessly, as he held onto her with one powerful arm while bringing the vial up to his mouth to open with his teeth. “You must drink this, darling. You must live!”

“No, Vincenzo!” She said to the man she’d only known a couple of wonderful, exciting months, but to whom her heart already belonged. “YOU are the one who must take the antidote! There’s only enough for one of us, and I am nobody,” She began to lightly cough. “Just an ordinary girl from Anchorage, Alaska, my love! The people of San Finzione will ALWAYS need you! MARIA needs you! Do it for HER, Vincenzo!”

He looked at her with grim determination.

“I will do this on one condition, Helena.” He said to her. “That if I swallow this antidote and save my own life, purely for the good of The People, and for Maria; you MUST promise me that you WILL fight off the poison! That you will LIVE! That you will marry me and be my Contessa!”

“Oh, yes, Vincenzo!” Helena called out, the words seeming to give her a new surge of strength by themselves. “Yes, my love, I will! And of course, I’ll marry you! But hurry and drink!”

With a tear in his eye, Vincenzo imbibed the blue fluid. As he felt his own strength returning, he saw color returning to the cheeks of his beloved bride-to-be. He pulled an enormous diamond engagement ring from his pocket and put it on Helena’s finger. She felt his love revitalizing her and smiled as she pulled him down to her and the train steamed into the tunnel.

“Helena!” Julie Equals shouted at Contessa Helena de San Finzione. “The girl asked how you became Contessa! She’s fifteen, not Troy!” Julie turned to Denise Cole, who’d been listening to every word. “We met him at one of his resorts in Spain. I can’t give you the details after that, but, not those ones!”

“Ok, yeah, Julie’s right.” Helen admitted with a laugh. “But still, you’d go see that movie, right, Denise? I’m kind of looking for ideas right now.”

“Sounds great.” Denise said, taking a drink of her soda. “Need any actresses?”

She smiled at her own question. Denise had relaxed after everyone came back into the house. Formal introductions had been made; and Troy, Julie, and Susan had to suppress snickers when Denise curtseyed to Helen. When Helen gave a perfect formal curtsey in reply without missing a beat, they could no longer be suppressed.

“Sorry, Denise.” Julie chuckled. “It was really nice. It’s just ... we’ve seen Helena do that on TV, meeting other royalty; it’s just funny to see her do it here at home.”

“Don’t listen to them, Denise.” Helen said, turning to the others with a grin. “It’s nice to see someone show some proper respect for a change.”

There was a moment of silence before everyone but Denise exploded into laughter.

“Now I’m sorry too, Denise. These people are my family. Real kind, not crime kind. They do not show me ‘respect,’ and I won’t hold it against you if you don’t, either.”

That got a smile from the girl. Soon they were able to talk, and Denise asked her first question of Helena: How she became Contessa, before Helen began spinning her story.

“Well,” Helen said afterwards, drinking her cocoa. “What would you think of a trilogy about a special Chosen Girl who’s really clumsy but can do this one thing that nobody else can; or she’s the best in the world, anyway? She thinks she’s unattractive, but every boy wants her; especially the two or more super-hot ones that everyone ‘teams’ for. She eventually chooses one, then leads the revolution and overthrows the dystopian future government; she does some PG-13 stuff with him, and the series ends.”

Denise thought for a moment.

“I’d say I’ve read that trilogy six times and every time, it had a different author and title.”

Helen turned back to her family.

“Ok, I like her!”

Denise began to risk strain to her smiling muscles. Helen turned back to the game that Troy had set up.

“So, how do we play? Can I be the banker?”

“NO!” Troy and Julie shouted simultaneously.

“Helen,” Troy said. “You know you’re never allowed to be banker. In anything. Ever.”

She turned back to Denise and winked.

“Yeah, I do.” She informed her. “I just never get tired of seeing them do that.” Helen turned back to the rest of the group. “I should probably step out back for a smoke before we get into the game, since Denise is here. Mind giving me a few minutes first?”

Stunned silence fell over the room. Denise was confused again, until Julie spoke.

“Helena, I don’t think you’ve ever straight-up asked permission like that since...” Julie had to cut herself off before saying “we taught you how to Do What We Do.”

“I was just shown a great deal of respect.” Helen explained. “I’d like to return it. In fact, Denise, if you don’t mind coming out with me and sitting out of smoke range, I wouldn’t mind hearing any movie ideas you might have.”

Denise nodded and ran to the patio door to open it for Helena. She gave a thankful nod and the two of them stepped outside, closing the door.

“Her heart’s going to explode.” Susan told Julie while Troy dealt out the money and tokens and explained them to Mander. “You’re going to have to explain to the Coles why you’re bringing home their daughter’s body looking like a xenomorph hatched out of her chest.”

Julie looked through the glass door, watching as Denise excitedly talked about something and Helen sat a safe distance downwind from her and listened just as excitedly.

“They’re both making a new friend.” Julie replied. “I know Denise has been feeling better about herself and making some friends lately.” She turned to Susan and took hold of her hand. “And the last friend Helen made has worked out pretty well.”

Troy and Julie both looked out the patio door at Helen, animatedly asking questions back about whatever Denise was saying. This wasn’t the woman who tried to fake her enthusiasm through daytime talk show interviews. This was the girl they’d both stayed up all night talking with about anything and everything, continuing well past the time those daytime talk shows were ending. Troy had to forcibly remind himself that they had somewhere important to go later that evening, because he would have loved to skip the auction and see if Denise’s parents would be ok with them putting her up in one of the guest rooms; bringing her home or taking her to school in the morning, so that she and Helen could just continue talking and smiling like they were. The Coles had been over for dinner a couple of times, and so had they. They were clients of Troy’s now.

Denise’s visit had lasted most of the afternoon and into the early evening, until Julie offered to take her and her bike home in the minivan. Susan went along as well, since Denise lived in Tacoma, and Susan’s car was still parked in front of Inner Claire-ity this whole time. Troy and Helen stood on the front porch and waved goodbye to them as Mander went across the street to get his tuxedo.

“She really doesn’t know about the Thing?” Helen asked Troy as they waved.

“Oh, Denise has ‘discovered our secret’ four times now. The next time, we’ve decided to just let her remember but not to reveal it. She’s helped me plug a couple of security holes that I missed, to be honest. I’ve got some savings bonds set aside for her later on to say sorry and thanks.”

Helen bent his head forward for a kiss.

“That’s my boy.” She said to him in Greek. “Now come on, let’s go make you pretty.”

Late that evening, Contessa Helena de San Finzione, Troy Equals, and Mander sat in the back of her limousine, watching the news as Scappa departed the hotel for the Auction site.

“They’re still calling me ‘Con-Hel.’” Helen groaned. “I guess I asked for it. I sound like I come from the side of Superman’s family that the Els don’t like to talk about. Jor-El thought ‘Should I warn the Hels, clear on the other side of Krypton; that the planet’s gonna explode? Nah, fuck those guys.’”

She looked over at Troy, wearing the same tuxedo with white jacket that he’d worn to the ball she’d thrown for them almost a year ago.

“You didn’t pack the Walther, did you?” She asked, after looking him over for several seconds.

“Standing close to you with guns is something you pay men for, Helen. I’ll always do it for free, no gun required.”

“Besides,” Helen offered. “You found out that the real Berns-Martin Triple-Draw Holster was only designed for revolvers, didn’t you? I tried to protect you from that one.”

“Q could’ve whipped something up; modified one for the Walther.” Troy replied. “And given time, the right tools, and a couple samples to work with...” Troy thought a moment. “You’re trying to distract me, Helen. To keep me from being nervous, is my guess.” Troy patted her hand. “I do my best to never be nervous around you, Helen.”

“Because you know that, like with Julie, nothing bad can ever happen to us as long as we’re together?”

Troy patted her hand again.

“I do my best to never be nervous around you, Helen.”

“For the record, that’s two questions that you haven’t really answered since this conversation started.”

“As long as we’re keeping track,” Troy responded. “That’s all that matters.”

“He ain’t packin’, Your Countessness.” Mander spoke up, adjusting his cuffs, so that his Rolex could be seen, but not so far up that it’d be obvious he was showing it off. They’d found a Big & Tall store at the mall that had a tuxedo in his size. “I’d know.”

“I could be making you ignore it.” Troy offered.

“Nah, first off, you ain’t a wanker like that. Second, a man carries himself different when he’s brought Death with ‘im. He thinks he don’t, but he does. You wouldn’t’ve thought to make me ignore that.”

“I get why Helen likes you now, Mander.” Was Troy’s response.

“I’m a likable guy.” Was Mander’s response.

The limo turned off of I-5 at the Southcenter exit, then took 405 down through Renton and Kent, until it reached the farm country, and smells thereof, of Auburn. As they got closer to Auburn, Troy became aware of other limos and expensive cars on the road, also appearing to make their way to the same destination.