Friday, 7:47 am, July 13, 2012






"King size mattress, my ass! Who for? Pygmies?"

Ann listen's, but stays silent as she dresses for the morning. "Damn muggy crap! You know my shirts still wet from yesterday, probably rotting from mildew by tonight! Shit!" Gripes Mccail from inside the bathroom. "I hate this place!"

Placing his shirt closer to an open window he steps into the tub. He again lets Ann know how he feels about his surroundings, "How in the hell are you suppose to bathe? This isn't a tub. It's a bird bath."

"Stop it dear and hurry up. The stores are waiting."

"Shit!"

Half the couple is excited about the day's events, and while wearing one of his many soggy shirts Mccail receives a potpourri of assorted directions, from Aunt Jenny over breakfast, while Ann records all directional data that she provides.

Their car is still parked in the garage. Had it been left out, it surly would have been stolen, snatched, drained of its myth and its image tarnished, drug through the mud. How unworthy for all that it has done for the country's spirit or should I say, he has done, Seth Jarrett. The man, the legend, the drunk.

This 1938 Bugatti Type 57SC Atlantic Coupe, has been rented to Ann and McCail by mistake and it is a dazzler, and it is Seth Jarrett's, pride and joy.

Flowing across your eye is this lovely creature with two doors and a horn that sparkles. The sound the engine produces is a unique blend of pipes and organs, which advances through the air pushing aside all other sounds. And to watch it pass, this Marilyn Monroe with four tires, causes men to become infatuated and women to become jealous.

It's lines and curves wrap into a blend of metal and polished light, reflecting to the eye of the beholder. The outside shimmers, its paint so thick it pulls you into a pool of deep blue dimensions. And as a matter of fact, to most men their first reaction is to raise both arms off to the side where their wife, girlfriend, lover is walking to protect themselves from a jealous riddled fast moving purse. Duck and weave were common tactics men used to protect themselves.

Ann, the navigator, leads McCail through the narrow streets and into the busy thoroughfares of London. Ann is relaxed and captivated by the fountains, the people, the city, England. This postcard tour rolls along a dream she's waited for years to see.

Again people, mostly men, wave and honk, heads turn as they drive past, and again Ann comments, "My, these people sure are friendly," while purses fly.

Their first stop compliments Ann's directorial skills down to single parking spot, which seems to have been reserved just for them.

A small group of people quickly gather about the car making it hard for Ann and her husband to disembark. Ann is the first to break through the crowd and darts into a store.

"Excuse me sir. Is this the Alice?" Asks a bystander with a loud voice pointing at the car. His voice causes others to stop and wait.

McCail is puzzled by his sudden movie star status.

"The what?"

"The Alice, Seth Jarrett's car."

McCail looks like a man lost in another world by the man's question as if the words spoken were in Farsi or Chinese. The small crowd is growing as shoes of all sizes and styles stop and turn, looking and waiting for an answer. Anxiety grows within McCail as he becomes confused by the crowd, and women swinging purses.

Finally McCail replies. "We picked the car up yesterday at Heritage Rentals. Yes I believe his name was Seth."

His reply causes the crowd to turn to the other looking for answers as neighbor asks neighbor.

"What do you mean you picked it up? You mean you bought it?" Asks another gentleman.

At this point rows were beginning to form, while the flow of foot-traffic slowed and a boulder of people grew blocking the sidewalk.

"No. We rented it!"

Banshees might as well have come out of the woodwork as cries and wale's mixes with gasps, jarring everyone including McCail.

Quickly thinking, McCail like a cornered politician blurts out, "It's a fake, a replica. Actually, Seth made it for me."

The relief of everyone happens in an instant as relieved voices sigh in unison and all disperse, except one.

"That's no fake."

McCail walks a few steps towards the lone gentleman and asks, "What's so special about this car?"

"It is England!" proudly says the man of sixty, sporting a cane. "For our Princes," lowering his head the gentleman choked back emotions, "Dianna loved this car. She was our Princes. The people's." His lips clinched tightly as pain came to the surface and then passed. "But, you know the funny thing. Women are jealous. Seth escorts celebrity's about all the time or at least he use to. Take a guess who's been seated next to ya. Go ahead.."

"Jane Fonda, Barbara Streisand?"

"No man. No! I'm talking about women from this planet! Beautiful women wearing silk. Ravishing, sexy. Man I'm talking about beautiful women. Sofia, Brigitte, Dianna. I don't know how or why Seth gave it to you, but that is no fake!"

"Good. It's mine for a week. Not to worry. I'll take good care of it."

Mccail explain's how he acquired it the day before from a new hire, and the two two shake hands and part.

***

Store's representing England finest were filled with delightful particulars completely foreign to these two travelers. Both antiques and hand made artesian pieces, decorated storefronts and walls. Three shops consume about two hours of their time and a quick bite takes them into the 1:00pm time frame.

"Boy talk about cheap! Are they afraid of running out of food or on some special government rations?" Gripes Mccail.

Gripe after gripe after gripe swallows his early afternoon while Ann quietly listens.

A dress, hat, and walking cane were the first items purchased by Ann at the third shop.

"How much was it? For that? Hell Ann, you could have done better at a garage sale."

"No dear. That's where I buy your suits and underwear."

Mccail on the other hand, with his keen eye, has picked up a few memento's that he finds intriguing,. They of course will never be seen on the Antique Road Show. As to the purpose and authenticity of any of his purchases, who knows, but a very alluring saleswoman tripped him with her open blouse as he stopped to stare and before he knew what happened, he was the owner of three items...

A Spin'duckle, that you wear like glasses with a rather odd shape for examining the inside of your own nostrils. A Hops`Yardle used by King George the Fifth for yacht racing in bath tubs or something like that and last, but not least, was a rather rare 1942 autographed picture of Paul McCartney as a baby, a year before he was born. Basically, worthless crap.

"What are you going to do with that stuff and what is it?"

A look that rejected her question was followed through with, a look that questioned her purchases.

"Listen Ann. Why don't we split up. You going to the stores and galleries of your taste, and me mine."

"Fine. How about we leave the car here and take the bus to the shopping district.

"Good."

He's made his way into the back corridors of Peccadillo looking for more trinkets while Ann walks the main drag searching for deals.

.....

That's how the day will go for some, others not.

As the events of the days pass by, each and everyone has their moments in the sun as they don their suits of armor and charge into the day....


Merlin G Wildhaber spent his day, after sleeping the night away in the back of the Rolls with his bride, wandering about enjoying the sights and sounds of London, which for so many years had lay as forgotten memories. His memories weren't forgotten because of any pain, but by time. Time had placed a large wedge between then and now.

He was ecstatic, like that of a young child at a birthday party, observing London's altered landscape up close and personal and through senior eyes. Sure, he had seen it on television, but not since Arthur's days, had he actually set foot in the city. He was just a lad when he would run the hills and practice his talents before royalty. That was the way he had remembered it.

Spending the day in the city where he had lived brought many smiles. His mouth gaped in awe at the sights of contemporary life. His white teeth glistened as he and the day strolled together. Tears flowed too,remembering familiar settings that passed his view.

His home of long ago still stood. The years whispered the passage of time by covering itself in a forest of vines. Someone new was living in his quarters. A tall oak he recognized still stood exposing his initials that he had carved there long ago.

He was to spend part of the day walking through the treasures of his thoughts, with an umbrella looped over his arm, on this nice summers day in July, before tending to some business.

Bartering proved to be quite amusing and rewarding. A stop at a upscale pawn dealer to gather some currency went quite well. Pawning a small ring that once belonged to the Earl of Humphrey was no big deal. Merlin never liked him anyway, plus using its worth for good made perfect sense to him. An abundance of other treasures lay back at his established home in Goosenham.

He began to realize once on the road, that this trip had been too long in the coming. He was truly enjoying himself and beginning to see all the discoveries that he had missed from living in isolation for so many years. The tower of London, that he had walked through before tours were ever given or even conceived, seemed odd to him. Like a man that had been lost in time this new world filled his eyes with wonderment.

"Susan. Why is everybody going under the ground?"

"It's the tube, an underground train."

Suddenly Merlin stops.

"What's wrong."

"I just felt something. A haunt from the past is near by."

"What do you mean."

"The one that carries the blood line of the witch, is close by. I must keep an eye on this one, for he is a deadly snake. Come. We need to watch our lad Mccail."


Coming out of retirement to present himself and his artistry to the world once again will take place on another day and as for tomorrow, he'll spend it following behind the two travelers, as they unknowingly make their way to his home.

For Ann and Mccail, getting out of London, will take place on their next sunrise. Today will be spent unwinding and adjusting to their new surroundings.