Duxford Airfield (the band) Pt. 04

__________(4)_________

ALAN ASTRACHAN ATTORNEY AT LAW

The well-attired receptionist quietly left the room and closed the door softly behind her, leaving Andrea, Helen, and myself alone with a man whom I guessed was around seventy years of age. Standing at around, five-ten, Alan was close to my own build and height and quite obviously a fitness-minded man. I immediately noticed that he was of solid build and toned with a healthy outdoor tan, and obviously had an excellent tailor. Dressed extremely well in a dark blue suit and black tie, his presence was neither arrogant nor stoic yet he possessed about him a quiet confidence that took up the entire space of the office as he stood ramrod straight and presented himself.

"Alan Astrachan, please, call me Al," he said without emotion as he extended his arm.

"I'm Tim Donvan, a pleasure to meet you, Al," I said, receiving a firm handshake from the man.

Alan seemed to smile inwardly at the purple bruise above my left eye yet he made no mention of it.

I shook hands with Alan using my left hand,...Alan's right arm was missing from above the elbow downward, a fact he seemingly neither tried to conceal nor exploit, either one.

With our left hands locked together now, I looked into the cool grey eyes of the older man and suddenly felt a cold and momentary chill go down my back with his firm handshake and steady steel gaze. Here was a man who'd faced all of his own dragons long ago, there was no trace of fear anywhere within him that I could see.

The awkward moment between us passed and we released each other's hands.

I then waved my arm cordially and said proudly "This is my wife, Andrea, and also is Helen Lunsford."

Andrea and Helen briefly shook hands with Alan. All of us then sat down, with the ladies and I facing Alan as he sat behind his large polished mahogany desk.

" I understand that Helen's attorney, Herb Nelson, has been in touch with you," Alan said, getting straight to the point and looking at the three of us.

"I spoke with Herb last week," Helen replied abruptly; before Andrea or I could speak.

Helen's voice made it rather apparent that she was uncomfortable with this man somehow.

"I've been Danny's attorney for forty years now, and have considered him as a friend, even longer. I am very saddened at his passing" Alan said with a sincere tone, apparently trying to break the ice between us.

"Maybe you should have gone to his funeral then," Helen said, a little heatedly.

Alan smiled slightly at Helen's remark and quietly replied, "I was unable to." Alan made no further explanation or excuse why he hadn't been able to attend the funeral.

"Mister Astrachan - " Andrea began to say.

"- Please, call me Al" Alan interrupted.

"Yes, alright, Al, you'll have to forgive us, but Herb was rather vague regarding the reason why we needed to come here in person at all, why not a conference call in Herb's office with all of us present? We're not even quite sure what Danny's estate has to do with any of us, to begin with," Andrea said.

"I'm not exactly sure myself, other than Danny requested, in his will, that we meet in person. As you know, Danny had no children or other living relatives. For this reason, upon Danny's wishes, his entire fortune and future music royalties will go to the V.A., Shriner's Hospitals, and various animal shelters, as well as two percent, each month, going to Wendy Weeds, his ex-wife. Helen Lunsford and Andrea Millhouse Donovan are the only other exceptions to this, according to Danny's last will and testament. No one else is mentioned in his will.

I am not only Danny's attorney but also the executor of his entire net worth and assets. He placed extreme trust and confidence within me and it is my full intention of carrying out his last wishes - to the letter. One of those wishes was that the three of us meet in person" Alan explained.

"...I don't understand,...Helen and I don't need anything and Danny knew that. Why would he leave us anything when there are so many other, more worthwhile causes?" Andrea asked slightly perplexed.

"Sentimental reasons, I assume. Danny expressed an extreme love for the both of you, he wanted you taken care of regardless of how successful either of you is - and according to Danny, both of you are each a roaring success within your respective fields. That being said, it's my job to inform you that there's a safety deposit box here in Odessa, the contents of which Danny has willed to a Helen Lundsford and one Andrea Millhouse Donovan. I have no idea what the contents of that safety deposit box are. Secondly, there is a piece of property, also here in Odessa, that Danny was in hope that you would handle for him. Andrea, I believe you know something about real estate" Alan said.

"Oh Danny,...I'm not even licensed here in Texas but maybe I could make a few phone calls and find someone locally that's..." Andrea broke off, slightly overcome with emotion as she held her forehead with her fingers.

Helen was quietly shedding a few tears now at the mention of Danny, I noticed.

...While Alan and the ladies continued yammering in "legalese" my mind started drifting and I began glancing around Alan's office. There was a framed gold record hanging on the wall, most likely Duxford Airfield's "Angels" album I assumed. There was also an eight by ten color photograph of Danny and Alan, arms around each other, and smiling into the camera as palm trees seemingly swayed in the background during a sunny day. The two looked like they'd spent the entire day on a golf course somewhere, probably sometime during the late nineties.

"-That photo which you're so interested in, Mister Donovan, was taken in two thousand and one during a celebrity golf tournament to benefit charities," Alan said to me, his tone made it sound as if I'd been caught sitting at Alan's desk and reading his mail.

"I see you have it hanging on your office wall which is open to the public, Al, and although I never met Danny, everyone speaks highly of him. His involvement in a charity fundraiser doesn't surprise me" I replied, neither in an aggressive nor passive tone.

Alan simply nodded his head, as if saying "That's an honest reply."

...To be completely honest, I really didn't care what Alan Astrachan thought, one way or the other.

...

The ladies and I spent about forty minutes with Alan Astrachan, a man that I neither liked nor disliked, however, I did believe in Alan's sincerity in carrying out the last wishes of Danny Wickersham, for whatever that was worth.

After our brief meeting with Alan had ended, the ladies and I had stood up and shaken hands with Alan once more. As a parting gesture, Alan had mentioned that he would be absent from his office for the next several days but he'd assured us that his secretary would be able to help us with any questions which might arise, concerning the safe deposit box or Danny's land sale.

Andrea, Helen, and I had then left the attorney's office and walked out into the massive hallway of the office building. In all honesty, I hadn't paid much attention to any of the details of the conversation between Alan and the ladies during our visit to the law office.

Everything on the table now had to do with the platonic friendship between Danny Wickersham, Andrea, and Helen - all of which had occurred decades before my time with Andrea. Quite frankly, I was bored with all of this nonsense and felt like I'd been saddled with someone else's emotional hangover, Danny Wickersham's emotional hangover.

"You OK, Helen?" I asked, looking at the girl.

Helen said nothing, just simply held up her palm and nodded an "OK."

"We'll be back at the motel soon," I said, reassuringly.

...Presently, Andrea led the way as all three of us silently walked toward the elevator banks at the far end of the hallway, Andrea was now carrying a large manilla envelope, which I suddenly noticed with little interest.

Thinking objectively now, I found myself assuming that Danny Wickersham had probably been somewhat of a lonely and eccentric guy, at least he seemed to have acted that way from what I'd learned of him. - Instead of accepting the fact that neither Andrea nor Helen were ever going to be interested in him as anything more than a platonic friend, Danny had clung to the adolescent hope of eventually swaying one or both of the ladies toward him.

There must have been hundreds upon hundreds of women who'd thrown themselves at Danny over the years, after all, he was a rockstar. Even though the guy was gone now, he probably still received fan mail from beautiful women every day. Rockstar groupies were a strange animal in that regard, I'd been told. Despite all this, Danny had still rigidly clung to the childish hope that one day he would marry either Andrea or Helen. They were the two women that he couldn't have so he'd wanted them the most.

I silently shook my head, what a romantic idiot, I thought.

Danny Wickersham had probably been a really good guy but I doubted seriously if he and I would have had much in common. It was unlikely that we'd have ever sat down together over a meal or socialized at any time. The more I learned about the man, the more he reminded me of a bullshit artist, a good-natured one perhaps but a bullshit artist, just the same...

The term "platonic male friend" now rattled around in my head as the ladies and I continued walking down the large corridor together. For Andrea and Helen, Danny Wickersham had been a "Platonic male friend" which was a stale and leftover term from the nineteen seventies that simply meant "She's not interested in you but she doesn't want to hurt your feelings, she's too nice of a person to just blow you off, so - you're a platonic male friend...

One of the drawbacks of being involved with an extremely beautiful woman, I had discovered years ago, was that every one of them, I'd ever dated, had also come with a long queue of "platonic male friends" trailing within her wake. These were guys that hadn't quite given up their last vestige of hope that they would one day become involved with her.

My ex-wife Susan had learned early in life to capitalize on her "platonic male friends." The poor bastards had completed every dismal task that she'd ever set before them. Everything from mowing her lawn to detailing her car, all for free and simply in the hope that they might receive one single kiss or get a date with her. Susan used to brag about it to me when we'd begun dating, - they were such dupes, and she'd never put-out for a single one of them, she'd claimed with a laugh.

Once Susan and I had been married though, she'd sure as hell put-out for Irwin every chance she'd got, I learned after the fact. Now Irwin was stuck with her and getting first-hand knowledge of how well Susan could blow through money. Susan bought stuff that she didn't even want, just so she could spend money. My God, I was so glad that Susan was Irwin's problem now and not mine.

Thank you, Irwin, you sonofabitch, the two of you deserve each other...

...I suddenly realized just how toxic my thinking had become within the last hour and took a mental step backward away from my own thoughts. I then took a deep breath and immediately felt myself begin to calm down.

I stole a quick glance at Helen as the three of us approached the elevators, Helen looked like she was ready for a good stiff drink right now...

Andrea pushed the illuminated call button to summons the elevator car and then rubbed Helen's back reassuringly.

"Doing OK, babe?" Andrea asked as the three of us waited for the elevator.

"I'll get there eventually" Helen replied, closing her eyes and running a hand through her hair.

...After Susan had left me for Irwin, Mom had repeatedly explained to me that I needed to wish Irwin and Susan well and send happy thoughts in their direction every day, even if the happy thoughts weren't sincere. My mother had possessed incredible wisdom concerning matters of the heart, and with her prompting, I had eventually begun sending those happy thoughts in the direction of my ex-wife and her new husband. Slowly, over time, I began to care less and less about the absence of Susan from my life and I also found, once I began dating again, that I really did want some type of happiness in the lives of Susan and Irwin, yet I still struggled with this concept at times.

I sure as hell didn't want Susan back now, that was for damn sure...

...I closed my eyes and reminded myself that I was married to Andrea now, not Susan. I was simply here, on this wild nonsensical adventure, to support my wife during her grieving process after losing her friend Danny Wickersham. I was trying to show respect and support to my wife, the way a good husband was supposed to show respect and support to her, even when I didn't feel like it. Now it appeared that I was also here to support Helen Lunsford as well. That was fine, I liked Helen...

The elevator arrived and the doors opened, we then stepped into the empty car without any of us speaking.

I needed to get out of this damn office building, I hated large office buildings. Right now I wanted to eat something and then fly home - tonight, damn it! In fact, let's leave here and go straight to the airport now, we don't even need to go back to the motel for our damn luggage, just leave it here in Texas, fuck it! Forget all the Alan Astrachans and Danny Wickershams of the world, this isn't my goddamn mess and I don't owe any of these fucking people a damn thing!

...Calm down and stop being irritable, I told myself as I firmly massaged the back of my neck.

I closed my eyes again and began methodically reasoning with myself now in a logical manner.

OK, this is part of the gig when you're involved with a beautiful woman, sometimes you have to do things that you don't like. Man-up now and let's just get through this rotten sonofabitch - do it for Andrea.

(***sigh***)

Andrea glanced up at me and rubbed my back soothingly, which I acknowledged with a stoic nod of my head as the elevator began to descend.

...Apparently, there was a safe deposit box, somewhere here in Odessa that the ladies and I were going to try and locate now, most likely tomorrow. The safe deposit box probably held bits and pieces of moderately expensive jewelry or some other sentimental bullshit. The gift was probably nothing more than a self-serving attempt by Danny Wickersham to help the ladies remember him. He'd probably set up the safe deposit box years ago, Danny wanted Andrea and Helen to remember him once he was gone.

A sentimental gift from a platonic male friend...

Danny should have gotten over his romantic feelings for Andrea and Helen long before this, I thought, shaking my head. Presently I glanced over at Helen as she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the polished brass of the elevator car. Helen looked absolutely drained of energy now.

"It'll be OK, baby," Andrea said, putting her arm around Helen's shoulder.

Helen stood up straight again and leaned into Andrea slightly but she remained silent.

Andrea seemed to be holding up better than Helen or me, either one. My wife was quite at home in large office buildings from having worked in them for years and Andrea was also very mentally tough.

Tougher than I'll ever be...

...Right now, I felt like an antsy kid that'd been stuck in the back seat of a car for too long during a long road trip. Glancing upward, I snarled at the small circular illuminated elevator numbers and watched them as they slowly and methodically changed to increasingly lower digits, - 12, - 11, - 10, - 9, - 8, why is this damn thing so slow?

(***sigh***)

...Andrea had covertly explained to me that Helen was presently dealing with a degree of guilt for not marrying Danny at some point. I understood this, but I also knew that any marriage joined together with heartfelt love existing only on one side, was a marriage that was doomed to fail. Helen had been wise to back away from Danny's marriage proposals.

I also knew that Helen's heart would eventually mend and that her mind would begin to clear once a little time had passed and she began living her own life again. Helen needed to start dating again and she needed to put the failed relationship between her and her ex-boyfriend, Tim, behind her. She also needed to stop feeling obligated to drag around Danny Wickersham's ghost, but it wasn't any of my concern and I knew the best thing that I could ever do was keep my mouth shut.

Women were strange and sentimental creatures, I knew. A fifty-cent birthday card, from her husband, often meant more to a woman than all the time and effort it took for him to do a complete brake job on her car.

...I glanced over at Andrea again as she played with her phone. Damn, she was good-looking I acknowledged to myself. The three of us remained silent as Helen and I stood and watched the illuminated numbers of the elevator and Andrea texted someone.

Presently I looked up at my reflection in the polished brass of the elevator car and suddenly felt incredibly restless, I also felt boxed into a mess that was none of my own making. I had never met Danny Wickersham and none of this soap opera that I now found myself stuck in mattered to me. I loved Andrea and I now cared about Helen Lunsford but that was the extent of my emotional involvement. Jesus, how did I ever get sucked into all this Danny Wickersham bullshit, to begin with? I asked myself.

...I'm here to support my wife and Helen Lunsford, I reminded myself curtly.

Glancing down at the carpeting on the floor of the elevator, I sighed again and ran a hand through my hair....Maybe after Andrea eye-balled the so-called, piece of land mentioned in Danny's will, she could use her references and find a good local real estate agent for Danny's estate. Then maybe Andrea and I could get back on the plane and go home, I was ready to go home.

...Maybe with any luck we could be home tomorrow night, I thought optimistically.

The elevator doors opened with the chime of a bell and the three of us walked into the large vacant lobby toward the glass entryway doors leading outside. Andrea's and Helen's shoes were now echoing upon the linoleum floor which had recently been polished to a mirrored finish with meticulous care.

It was already a quarter after five o'clock I noticed glancing up at the face of the large clock within the lobby. The clock itself was a beautiful piece of hand-craftsmanship and ordained with Roman numerals. The timepiece had a serious look to it and was posted upon a tall elegant pillar of its own and located within the very center of the lobby. It almost looked like an antique train station clock with a large dial facing to and from the entryway. There was no ornate water fountain with its tranquil sounds of cascading water inside this lobby, only the large clock which seemed to be saying "Time is money."

Andrea held open the glass entryway door for Helen and me.

...Exiting the large office building, I followed Andrea and Helen down the concrete steps and toward the parking lot, it felt good just to be outside in the clean air again and I immediately felt my energy level rise. The nearby sounds of rush-hour automobile traffic noise surrounded us and the skies above were sunny with partial cloud coverings, it was going to be a beautiful evening in Odessa Texas. Looking up at the sky, I suddenly wished that all of us were heading for a Firehouse sandwich and then a long bicycle ride someplace.

Walking twenty feet ahead of me now, the ladies had their arms around one another now in support of each other as we neared the rental car.

...Abruptly my phone pinged with a text message from my brother Ricky. "Awesome photo dude! I was just in Natwomar getting some Chili."

I was unsure of what Ricky's text was referring to. There was no photo attached to the text message but I assumed that he'd meant to include a photo of a locomotive or some other railroad point of interest encountered during his hazardous and illegal travels aboard freight trains within the last few days. I sighed deeply and shrugged my shoulder. Ricky was currently inside a Natwomar so the freight train he'd hitched a ride on must be stopped for a crew change or maybe to shuffle some cars around - who cares? I asked myself. Right now I wasn't in the mood for any of Ricky's nonsense and didn't text him back.