Chapter 163

“We were created to make the impossible possible.”
—Vista Townsend, Synthetic Genesis

WE HEADED OUT of the theater building, trying to spot Remas. She wasn’t in the lobby and we went on outside into the bright sunlight of late afternoon. Cindy tugged on my hand and pointed. The despondent figure was sitting on the edge of a fountain staring down at her phone. I headed toward her. Cindy didn’t let go of my hand.

“Remas, it seems something was inadvertently left out of our contract,” I said. “Want to help us fix it?”

“Do you want me? They say I messed this up.”

“How? You didn’t have anything to do with the contract,” Sophie said.

“I got promoted right after your last visit in recognition of my work coordinating things with you. I was in meetings that discussed your upcoming performance. No one told me I was supposed to talk to you about it. Randi White, our contract person, says it was my responsibility to talk to you,” Remas said.

“Randi White is who signed our contract. There’s nothing in it about an hour-long performance. It doesn’t make sense that you should be blamed for something she signed,” Sophie said.

“Shit runs downhill.”

“Well, we’re putting up a dam between you and it,” I said. “Get the boss on the phone. We’ll get this fixed.”

“I’ll call Donahue,” Donna said. “You call the bus, Remas. We need to get to the apartments in order to start organizing a program.”

When pizzas arrived at the apartment at seven, so did Dr. Donahue. She was as angry as we had been, though I couldn’t see why. Her department had screwed up.

“Remas, you won’t be needed any longer,” she started out. “We need to work on a way to salvage this situation.”

“She goes, we leave for the airport,” I said, facing Dr. D.

“Why would you do that? She messed up your contract and put us in this mess. We don’t have time to do anything but bring in some other musicians and do a mixed show,” Donahue said.

“Wrong,” Sophie said. “We have a contract signed by Randi White, your contract person, that only vaguely says we will do a live stream video performance here in DC. I’ve worked with a lot of production companies but never one who expected a coordinator to do the work of a contract person.”

“Remas was in the meetings where the performance was discussed,” Donahue insisted.

“And exactly when was she told she had to renegotiate our contract?” I demanded. “You would think something as important as that would have had some explicit instructions. We’re willing to work something out to get a performance in the theater Thursday. We’ll do it because that’s the kind of people we are. What we’re seeing here is that you may not be the kind of people we want to associate with in the long run.”

“Let’s not be too hasty,” Donahue said, stepping back. I’m not sure she considered that we’d decide not to come to DC for service. Not that we’d have a choice if they decided that was what had to happen, but Cindy didn’t have to volunteer a year and a half early. “A mistake was made and if we can remedy it, we will. If you still want Remas as your coordinator, she can stay.”

“Dr. Donahue, sometime in the future, we are going to mess something up,” I said. “We’ll be in the wrong place, have marked the wrong schedule, be sick and unable to play, or just sleep in and miss a rehearsal—or, God forbid, a performance. When that happens, we’re going to take full responsibility for it and whatever penalty it causes. What we want to know is how many times we are going to be held culpable for other people’s mess-ups. If you have the kind of school and organization that pushes the blame down to the lowest level to protect those in power, we don’t want to be a part of it.”

“Maybe I’ve been too quick to place blame where none is deserved,” Dr. D said. “How can we make things right?”

“We received an email an hour ago from Randi pretending nothing was out of the ordinary and we were set for the performances. It included a playlist. If we’d had that two weeks ago, we could have done something. We aren’t prepared for some of the pieces on the list. We don’t have the right instruments, people, or costumes. We need to go over the program and arrive at something we can prepare and produce in two days. Then we’ll need rehearsal space for more than the two sessions that are scheduled. It doesn’t need to be in the theater if that’s not available, but I don’t think other residents in this apartment building will appreciate us rehearsing late into the night.”

“We should be able to handle rehearsal space. Remas, can you check with the theater to see what additional time we can have there and then schedule rehearsal room at the school for any other times? Please?” Donahue said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Remas left to go to the other apartment and Em took a pizza and sodas to follow her.

“Now,” Donna said. “We do not have the costumes or instruments to replicate Mountain Monster. It’s been a year since the troupe did that video and the material is stale.”

“We are just looking for a rendition of some of your other work that has become influential,” Donahue said. “How about ‘The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly’?”

“We can perform the music,” I said. “Without costumes. We’re missing three of our dancers who are in National Service. It’s still a good musical composition and shows off Desi’s voice, as well. I don’t think we’ll have any problem redoing the Jefferson Memorial piece. Sophie said she can get a reasonable costume and prop ready for that.”

“That’s good. And you can fill in the missing time with other pieces from your repertoire?” Donahue asked. I nodded. “I have one question: Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you going an extra step forward when you were ready to leave town when I walked in? Why are you defending Remas, who would have been a perfect scapegoat for all the blame? Why are you willing to put in hours of rehearsal between now and the scheduled performance time on Thursday to put together a full hour of music instead of six minutes?”

I looked around at my mates. They were good questions. Yes, I thought Donna and Sophie had painted a good picture of what we had to lose and what we had to fall back on. But that wasn’t enough of a reason. I felt Beca’s hand on my shoulder and nodded.

“It’s the kind of people we are, Dr. Donahue. You can expect we will always give our best.”

“I thought they were going to send me to California to pick asparagus,” Remas sobbed. I held her on my lap after we’d put our instruments away for the night. We’d agreed that we needed to stop playing before we disturbed other residents. Shortly after that, clothing had started dropping and having Remas naked in my lap was a pleasant sensation. I was thinking I might pick her up and take her to the bedroom. She lifted her lips to me and gave me a searing kiss as my hand automatically slid up her torso to cup a marvelous full breast.

“Not on our watch,” I said when we broke for air.

“Come on, baby,” Em said. “We have a scouting job for you.”

“What?” Remas asked, reluctantly extracting herself from my embrace.

“Someone has to be the first naked girl in the hall as we run next door!” Em laughed. Well, I guess the girls had plans for Remas. I stood and kissed all my girlfriends goodnight before they left. I decided to just let the musical beds determine who landed in mine, if anyone. I went into the bathroom to get my teeth brushed and go to bed.

“Is this okay, Jacob?” Cindy asked as she stood next to the bed.

“Okay?” I asked. Damn! I’d almost gotten my cock to go down after the brief make-out with Remas and kissing all my girlfriends. Looking at naked Cindy Marvel standing demurely by my bed reversed that process quickly. She was just so damned cute!

“Okay for me to sleep with you. And ... um ... I wanted to make sure ... um ... my trim and shave was okay. Rachel said it would be, but I don’t know what you like.” Well, that was an excuse to let my eyes travel down her shapely body and focus on the space between her legs. I thought her pubic hair might be a little less bushy—shorter—than it had been, but the edges around the top and sides hadn’t been cut back. Cindy had black pubes to match her black hair. It always looked thick and tangled. But from the top of her slit down, everything was clean and bare. I could see the tips of her inner lips parting the outer labia with a burst of pink.

“Wow!” I took her hand and we sat on the bed. “First of all, my Pied Piper, you never have to ask for my approval of your appearance. I might like certain things and I’ll be sure to tell you, but I’m not the one who decides what you should and shouldn’t do, whether it’s the length of your pubic hair, the color of your nail polish, or the amount of makeup you wear. I’ll be happy to offer my opinion when you want it, but you don’t have to do anything to please me but be yourself.”