Chapter 66: On the Go

“IT WOULD BE awfully damn nice if you could just open a gateway to and from Areola whenever and wherever you wanted to without depending on the satchel to function as your portal,” Doug said. I’d had to leave him in LA, as I was off across the heartland doing interviews. There were just so many loose ends. We’d hired nearly a thousand non-Areola personnel to work on the production of season two, in addition to those special individuals who were jumping in and out of the natural world from my satchel.

“You mean open a gateway to Areola from wherever I happen to be, regardless of where the satchel is? And open a gateway from Areola to anyplace in the natural world? I don’t know if that can be done, Doug.”

It was an interesting concept and I don’t know why I’d never thought of it before. I had often thought of Areola as being in the satchel, so I needed to be where the satchel was in order to protect Areola. This would be a completely different understanding of what that meant.

“Bob! Did you hear me?”

“Sorry, Doug. You just got me thinking. What was it?”

“There’s something fishy about this Roxie you’re interviewing. Things on her application aren’t squaring away with what we know now. This friend of hers we arranged to get her to where you are is a stripper. We thought she was working temporary secretarial jobs.”

“Yes, just like Roxie.”

“You know?”

“She confessed to being an exotic dancer at The Gold Standard in Des Moines. You could have our contact check that out. I get the feeling that we didn’t dig very deeply into the applications we accepted. Was that intentional?”

“Well, the girls ranked them, including how genuine they appeared to be, but it’s obvious we aren’t getting deep enough. It’s not like we can call their references. We completely missed your new Doctor of Physics in Cleveland. She’s getting along great in Houston, by the way, but really misses Cleveland Bob. I told her I’d put in an order for something that would bring him back to Houston.”

“Houston has to be a big adjustment for her. By the way, how long is this rain in the Midwest supposed to last? It’s still pouring down out there.”

“Severe storm warnings continue through eight p.m. tomorrow evening. I guess that’s this evening now. You’ll have to put her on the road and make sure you can visit her again.”

“That might be a problem,” I answered. “We might have to do the big reveal here in the cabin before she goes. She is uncannily aware of things not being exactly what they appear to be. She had a quick brush with a camerawoman this evening. Even though she didn’t see anything, she thinks the house is haunted.”

“Well, you know how to play it. Offer her a ton of cash to keep her mouth shut and remind her of her non-disclosure.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“So, the big problem today is that you need to be in Italy on Sunday to meet Mia D’Angelo. She’s going to be touring the cathedral in Firenze, compiling historical notes for the Società di Antropologia Religiosa. She is a member of the Order of Shebites, a non-monastic order of nuns and outspoken critics of the Pope,” Doug said.

“I’m going to interview a nun for a place in my harem?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes. But don’t get in the habit,” Doug laughed. I just groaned.

“Unlike many of our contestants, her life reads like an open book. She’s been in the news since she was fifteen and told the pope that he was wrong about the church’s stand on celibacy and the acts of priests through the ages had proven it. She quoted Paul in saying ‘Better to marry than to burn,’ and that she sincerely hoped the priests who abused nuns and children were burning in hell.”

“And they allowed her to become a nun?”

“The Order of Shebites snatched her up immediately, rushed her off to their chapter house, and helped her refine her position. She is actually vacationing to conduct her research for the Society of Religious Archaeology. The Shebites are devoted to the acquisition of knowledge and wisdom and take their name from the Queen of Sheba, praised both in the books of Solomon and in the Koran.”

“Wow. Am I up to this?”

“Only time will tell, Bob. Good luck with Roxie tomorrow.”

I was in the kitchen drinking coffee and looking at various news and weather reports when Roxie came into the kitchen, dressed in one of my oversized T-shirts and, I presumed, panties. Annie had equipped her with whatever she needed for the night and this seemed to be her choice of nightwear.

She stumbled to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup.

“Up early. I suppose you’re eager to get out of here.”

“Oh, not so much,” she said. The T-shirt she’d chosen was a vee-neck and way too large for her slight frame. It fell off one shoulder, hung up on the rise of her breast. It was apparent by both the bare shoulder and the obvious nipple outline beneath the fabric that she was braless.

“It’s still raining. We can call Bill and ask him to get your tire fixed as soon as he can. You probably picked up a nail or something,” I suggested.

“I left my keys with the clerk so he can pull it in where it’s dry to work on it,” she said. She lightly touched my head as she walked behind me to get to the refrigerator. Then again as she went to a seat at the table. “I called Joan and she said to wait until it was safe to travel. The cat can be on her own for a day without a problem.”

That was news to me. I knew we didn’t have a cell signal out here. I’d talked to Doug on the landline. I tried not to respond to her declaration.

“That’s good,” I said. “This weather isn’t projected to let up until eight tonight. They’re calling it the drought-breaker. Problem is, of course, that the ground is so dry they’re afraid there will be more run-off than soaks into the ground.”

“It seems like every four or five years, we get ‘the storm of the century’ out here in middle America. Sometimes it’s snow; sometimes it’s rain; sometimes it’s wind. Doesn’t make a difference. Four or five years later we get the same weather report.”

“Well, you are welcome to just hang out here for the day. I don’t think we have anything particular planned.”

“I hope to get to know you better,” she said, reaching out to put her hand on mine. “Much better.”

Now that was a difference from her response to me the night before. She seemed afraid to be in the same house with me then. I recognized the touch. It was the same way that a stripper touches a guy when she’s trying to get him interested in talking, buying a drink, or having a dance.

“Hey! Are you putting the make on my boyfriend?” Annie said, coming into the room and seeing Roxie’s hand on mine.

“Not exclusively,” Roxie said. “I wouldn’t mind sharing with you a little, though.”

“Uh ... Where does all this sudden interest come from, Roxie? Last night you could hardly stand to be in the same room with me,” I said.

“Too sudden? Damn! I was afraid of that. I’ve always been lousy at the transitions. It’s either shy damsel in distress or wanton seductress. I never manage anything in between.” She sat staring at her coffee. Annie gave me a curious glance and then shrugged and got her own coffee.

“You just surprised us,” I said.

“Does that mean I’m out of the running?”

“What?” Annie and I said at the same time.

“I should have known it was too good to be true. Stranded on a stormy night and who should come along, but The Bob and one of his harem? I was so afraid that I’d blown it by being too reserved last night that I overdid it this morning.”

“What makes you think I’m The Bob?” I laughed.

“Oh, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. When you work in the business like I do, you learn to read people pretty well. I knew you weren’t just who you said you were when that John at the Convenience Store was talking to you. It’s one thing to treat a customer courteously. It’s another when the customer is your boss.”

“That’s pretty amazing,” Annie said. “Do tell us more. Bob, you could have a good time with Roxie and then tell her she didn’t meet the qualifications.”

“I don’t think so. Did you hear what The Bob said about hunting down fakers? Not going to happen here.”

“You two are so good. I’m pretty sensitive to things. Even when you stopped to change the tire, I had the feeling we were being watched. Then when you pointed her out, I figured it was just Annie who was watching, but the feeling persisted. In the C-store, I thought it was just the security cameras until I saw how John looked at the two of you. He doesn’t have much experience, does he? Nice guy, but I could see he owed some kind of intense loyalty to Bob. When we got to the house here, there was the ghost touch. I’d heard about your stealth technology. I didn’t turn fast enough to see her, though. When I said I talked to Joan this morning, you didn’t miss a beat, even though you know very well there’s no cell signal out here. I bet that’s only in the house and two steps outside there would be a good signal. Plus, there’s this.” She held up her phone and showed me a picture of bare feet.

“Whose feet?” I asked.

“You tell me. She was in the hall when I came out of my room. I had my phone in my hand to see if I could get a signal, but then I thought I’d just take a picture of the place. As soon as I switched on the camera, I saw the feet. I didn’t raise it up to see any more of her. I could tell, though that she was moving backward to keep me in focus. I remember signing the document that said all my interactions with The Bob would be recorded candidly.” She sat there looking at us and smiled. “Well, how’d I do?”

That was a good question. Role-playing for the purpose of seeing who a person is might be okay, but I really don’t like outright lying. I could probably convince her I wasn’t me, but eventually she’d find out I was me and be very upset that I lied to her when directly confronted. I guess I needed to come clean.

I leaned over to kiss Annie, then opened a gateway. She blew a kiss at Roxie and stepped through to disappear.

“Well, that nailed that,” Roxie breathed.

“Mmmhmm. I guess we should just formalize the interview now. Hi. I’m Bob.”

Her response was not quite what I expected. She whipped the T-shirt off and stood in front of me in all her naked glory.

“Uh ... Not that I mind your naked body, but it’s not required at this stage,” I said.

“After all this, if I don’t at least get to fuck The Bob, I’m going to be broken-hearted,” she answered. She circled the table and seated herself in my lap. “Now, what kind of questions do you have for me?”

You might not believe this after all this time, but I’m still not that good at talking to naked women I don’t know very well. I’m not a natural seducer. I think that comes from Pinaruti’s legacy. Since he didn’t know how to conduct a conversation with a woman, he imbued me with a certain level of irresistibility. Fortunately, not so much that every woman I meet instantly wants to fuck me, but enough so that if they want to fuck me, they’ll make the first move. Sometimes I actually turn them down.

But just talking to a naked woman who has just plopped herself in my lap and invited me to interview her—while her hands, mind you, were constantly caressing my arms and touching my cheeks—left me a bit tongue-tied.

It wasn’t at all that way when I talked to the nun. Sister Mia D’Angelo was a pleasant woman in her late twenties with a real thirst for knowledge. She was making notes as she walked through the duomo. I paused beside her and looked up at the duomo.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she asked. “Every brick cut precisely to the measurements needed to create the eight-sided dome.”

“One hundred fourteen and a half meters from the floor to the top of the lantern above the dome. You know that’s more than the length of a football field!” I responded.

“Oh, my, you know your architecture, don’t you?”

“I studied this particular cathedral extensively.” I cut myself off before I added, “as it was being built.” She would definitely not understand my being in Firenze when the cathedral was built. I’d intended to come back and help with the dome, but just before I headed that direction, Esmira managed to trap me in the infinity room.