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My wife now looked across the table at me.
"I will be, now, because of you. - I've never met a man like you before, Tim. Like most men, you're childish and impatient most of the time, you're cynical by nature and you're a self-centered little brat that's never learned to share his toys. You're a cowboy that listens to that damn hillbilly music and sometimes I think I'd like to drop you off at the next curb and drive away from you. But then I'll look into your eyes and know that you see me, first and foremost, as your friend....Because of that, I'm hooked for life and always will be. You are in love with me, and that much I do know" she said evenly.
I smiled at her and then asked "How can I be a cowboy when YOU'RE the one with a horse?"
"Because I'm an equestrian-minded person, that's how," Andrea reasoned with her female logic.
"You're making up the rules as we go along, and that's not fair," I said, teasing her.
Andrea rolled her eyes at me; like I was some teenage kid, that just didn't get it.
" - Tim, Monday morning we're going to walk into that meeting and lay our cards on the table, simple as that. If we have to walk away with nothing to show for our trouble, then so be it," she said, changing subjects.
...The old fire and resolve were finding their way back into Andrea's eyes again now and I was elated to see the change in her from just a few hours before; when her self-esteem had been at rock bottom.
"Andrea, it's all a game, so keep it in perspective," I said, nodding affirmation and being serious again.
"Danny Wickersham couldn't have said it any better himself" she replied, taking another bite of her food.
"I think Helen's just now getting fired-up and ready to go at this thing full tilt, Andrea. The fog is lifting from her and she's been smiling a lot more within the last few days, I've noticed" I said.
"So have you, Tim," my wife said.
"Really?" I asked, unsure.
"Yes," Andrea replied.
"...Are you ready to grab Helen and go back to Prominent House, this week?" I asked her now.
"I will be, after you make love to me some more tonight, husband" she answered.
"We will," I said.
Andrea and I held eye contact for several long seconds and I felt my heart skip several beats.
Andrea waved her hand in the air and acknowledged my earlier statement "...Seeing Lita again has lifted Helen's spirits, Tim, and she will go full tilt at researching this new book, now. That's what Helen Lunsford does best."
"I know that; Andrea, Lita is a nice lady and she'd lift anyone's spirits," I said.
Andrea silently nodded her head again as she continued eating.
"What does Lita think of this book project, or does she even know about it?" I asked.
"Yes, she knows all about it, Lita has a lot of respect for Helen and she's excited to see how this project unfolds. Helen is Lita's mentor, and has been for a long time" Andrea answered.
"I can believe that," I said.
"Kelly and Diane are trying to find more information on the Countess and Helen thinks she has a lead on some history regarding the younger son, David. I think Helen's mentally prepared to go back to Prominent House now." Andrea added.
"Andrea, my gut tells me that we'll be permitted to go through Prominent House again - probably until we're sick of it. Let's get some heavy-duty flashlights and a thermos or two for coffee. Since they won't let us take photographs in the place, we should at least take a pen and paper with us" I said.
"That's one of the things that I'm going to argue for on Monday, Tim, is taking video and photos. - And yes, we need to go in with the right equipment this time and flashlights are at the top of the list" Andrea nodded.
We were both silent for several minutes while we continued eating our food and staring out the truckstop's windows at the raging storm and neon lights.
" - Helen's wanted to write Danny's story for over thirty years now, Tim, this is a lifelong dream for her, even though The Gentle Giant is gone now" Andrea suddenly said, staring off into the distance.
"He's still here in spirit, Andrea, and this whole deal will work itself out in the end," I said encouragingly.
" - What about you, are you ready to go back into that fuckin' place again, Tim?" she abruptly asked, in reference to Prominent House.
"Yeah, let's take it on" I nodded with confidence.
My wife nodded her head and took a sip of soda as I sat mesmerized by her every movement.
...Andrea and I had both been hungry and our food was delicious. Even during a stormy night in a lonely West Texas truckstop, there was an erotic ambiance associated with this woman whom I now called "wife."
...Duxford Airfield's Mystery Girl, and what a wonderful mystery she was...
I now watched as the glow from the outside neon lights played and flickered upon Andrea's face and hair as the wind continued battering the large truckstop signs with unrelenting force. Occasional headlight beams would also silently glide across my wife's face as the big trucks entered the massive parking lot, most of them heading for the fuel island.
...Even in the hard unforgiving neon light and glare of headlights, I was still completely transfixed by my bride's exotic profile...
Andrea made eye contact with me yet neither of us spoke.
I slowly turned my attention back toward the windows as the never-ending stream of big trucks continued pulling under the lighted pavilion and nosing into the fuel bays. Drivers were tipping hoods and cleaning windshields as their mechanical giants stood by and idled in lonely monotones.
Similar to Andrea and myself, the diesels outside were hungry and it was time to feed these iron horses. They had come from as far away as Montana and New Mexico, Idaho and Vermont, maybe even Edmonton. Day and night, the trucks rolled in to take on fuel, and they never stopped coming. The trucks were heavily laden with machine parts, lumber, groceries, and oil field equipment, all destined for a hundred different places in every direction.
Most of these cowboys would refuel, eat, shower, and go to bed within their sleeper cabs, right here, within the massive parking lot of the truckstop. In a way, I was envious of them and their nomadic lifestyle, and in a way, I was glad to have now walked away from that lonely life...
Watching the drivers refueling their trucks made me reflect that it was, at times, difficult to discern which one was the slave of the two, man or machine...
- Andrea's phone abruptly pinged with a text message, bringing me back to the present moment.
"...It looks like Belle of Autumn is available for viewing online now, it's been digitally remastered, apparently," Andrea said, studying her phone.
"Stewart Hanes texted you?" I asked, surprised.
- Andrea and I had met Stewart Hanes briefly, several months before, a retired movie producer.
"Yes, he did" Andrea replied, handing me her phone.
I silently read the text message now "Hello, hope all is well, please check out the link below:"
The text message also included a link with the movie title "Belle of Autumn: 1953 Mildred Mayfield: digitally remastered: Buy or Rent $3.00"
In nineteen-fifty-three the master film reels for the movie "Belle of Autumn" had been stolen right after the movie's final edit, before the film was ever duplicated or distributed among movie theatres.
A film's master reels were considered to be extremely valuable and almost irreplaceable because of the time and expense in creating them.
Master reels were used to create the duplicate reels to distribute among movie theatres, and thus, generate return revenue.
After they were stolen, Belle of Autumn's master movie reels had been vigorously searched for by many, but never found. The film was eventually written off as a total loss and forgotten by the production company that had created it.
Subsequently, sixty-eight years later, during the spring of twenty-twenty-one, my wife and I had made the startling discovery of these missing film reels during a remodeling job of our antiquated Texaco station in Arizona City. The master movie reels for the missing film had been hidden within a safe beneath the interior floor of the gas station and left there for sixty-eight years.
Andrea and I had then posted this discovery online and were later contacted by Stewart Hanes, a retired representative of the production company that now owned the rights to the film.
Upon meeting Stewart Hanes in person, Andrea and I had then placed the stolen movie reels into his care - and essentially returned the copywritten work to its rightful owners. During our brief meeting with him, Stewart Hanes had made a solemn declaration to us that the sixty-eight-year-old film would eventually be made available to the viewing public. The link within the text message now proved that Stewart Hanes was a man of his word.
"That's really awesome, honey, we'll have to sit down and watch it some time," I said, handing the phone back to her.
"Yes it is" Andrea nodded her head as she replaced the phone in her purse.
...The text message from Stewart Hanes made me smile inwardly. It had been good to hear from him and to know that he was still somewhat active in his chosen field, and also satisfied with his work, concerning Belle of Autumn. It was also gratifying for me to know that Andrea and I had played a small part in finally revealing the film to the viewing public and I sincerely hoped the movie would be enjoyed by many. I was certain that Andrea and I would eventually sit down to watch the movie, ourselves.
The text message from Stewart Hanes had been a wonderful way to end the evening.
"I wonder how Stewart Hanes is doing?" I asked, off-handedly with genuine interest.
"From the looks of the text, I'd say he's been busy, especially for a guy in his eighties" Andrea nodded.
"Once a movie producer, always a movie producer," I said emphatically.
"Kind of like cowboys that drive semi trucks, I'd say" Andrea responded, looking at me.
I sighed and nodded my head, "Kind of like cowboys that drive semi-trucks, Andrea."
"Are you ready to go back to the room now?" she asked, grabbing her purse.
"Sounds good to me," I said, dropping a five-dollar bill and some singles on the table.
Andrea and I both stood up now and I grabbed the check.
"Would you really throw me to the curb if you weren't in love with me?" I asked; as I helped Andrea into her coat.
"Damn right I would, you're more trouble than you're worth most of the time - other than your lovemaking," she said closing her eyes and standing on her toes to kiss me.
"...I don't think you'd get very far before you turned around and came back for me," I said, looking deeply into her eyes.
"...Maybe..." Andrea said, as she quickly snatched the check from me and began leading me toward the cashier by my right hand.
After paying our bill, Andrea and I exited the building and began crossing the darkened street, back toward the hotel. All at once, the raging wind seemed to sneak up behind us and begin pushing us urgently with invisible hands. Andrea held tightly to me and laughed merrily as the strong wind ushered us onward in haste, carrying away the sound of my wife's laughter as it did so.
It almost felt as though we were two children left on the playground together, and the sound of Andrea's laughter always brought joy to my heart. I pulled her closer to me as the wind pushed us even harder, making us stumble along like drunkards.
Andrea began to laugh even harder, and when she wasn't looking, I leaned down and stole a kiss from her.
"Love you," I said, stopping on the sidewalk to look into her eyes.
"I love you too" she replied, quickly kissing me back.
"Thanks for dinner," I said.
"You owe me," she said.
"How much time do I have to pay you back?" I asked.
"Does forever work?" she asked, coming into my arms.
"...Yeah, baby, yeah, that works," I said stroking her windswept hair. I was suddenly glad for the darkened sky and turbulent wind now; because Andrea couldn't see the sudden tears of joy in my eyes...
...We entered our hotel room and noticed that Helen's adjoining door was still securely closed tonight, giving Andrea and me our privacy.
Helen and Lita would probably yak like a couple of school girls attending a slumber party for most of the night anyway. Just two old friends catching up with each other after a long time of going in different directions. I imagined that Andy and I would have a lot to talk about, ourselves, once we all sat down for coffee together in the morning. I was excited about Andy and his wife meeting Andrea.
My wife and I soon disrobed and climbed into the luxurious bed again. Andrea found a movie that we both agreed upon and we began watching it. Although Andrea and I seldom agreed upon which movies to watch, I thought of myself as fortunate, because Andrea did enjoy a good Western or Action movie from time to time.
The movie we chose to watch was the nineteen-seventy-three classic "White Lightning" with Burt Reynolds. White Lightning had always been an old stand-by B-grade classic for my little brother Ricky and me that always seemed ageless. Without fail, the movie always took me back to a simpler time in life, before the creation of cellular telephones, 24-hour news networks, and social media, - none of which I could relate to, or even cared to understand.
...Maybe that's why so many guys, my age, seemed to hail the classic films from the nineteen-seventies time era with such strong regard; because we could relate to them...
My mother had once made the comment that, no matter how good a film was, it was always better when shared with someone you love. For the next hour and forty minutes, I cuddled with Andrea and just enjoyed the movie, sharing it with her. I didn't think about Prominent House, oil company executives, or The Countess of Knoff.
...After the movie was over, Andrea and I made love but my mind was elsewhere and the act, on my part, had been mechanical and lacked passion.
"I'll do better next time, Andrea," I said sitting on the edge of the bed now and closing my eyes, disappointed with myself.
"Baby, it's alright. - Tim, you're frustrated and bored right now and I can clearly see that, and so can Helen. We've been dilly-dallying around for the last two weeks, trying to sort out this mess, but we're almost to the point where we can really get going on this project and when we do, I think you're going to be our biggest inspiration with all this. All we have to do, right now, is get the green light from Earl Billingsly, and then we're off to the races" Andrea said, sitting beside me now and pulling me close.
"I'll be an inspiration? Explain, please" I said with a sigh.
"Tim, I think you're going to become very intrigued with all of this once we're finally allowed to go back into that mansion and do an honest day's work of investigating. You've studied history extensively and you have a very methodical mind.
- My God, I've watched you and Ricky tear down motors and transmissions and then put them all back together again, more times than I can even begin to count. That mindset is going to help Helen and me unravel this whole mess.
Like you, I strongly believe that Earl Billingsly is going to permit us to go back into Prominent House and I also believe that the answers we're looking for are there. - We're going to be completely upfront about our intentions, including Helen's research for this book, she's already agreed to it.
"Helen's going to tip her hand, concerning the book?" I asked incredulously.
"Yes, the publisher has already publicly announced that the book will be out in November and that Helen Lunsford - aka Kathryn Dalloway, is the author, so what choice do we have? Helen has already exhausted all of her other resources regarding Danny's past - and there's just nothing to find, almost like he never existed before nineteen-sixty-eight.
If; for some reason, we're not allowed to go through Prominent House again, then Helen and the publisher are just going to have to go with Helen's first draft of the book - the bullshit version" Andrea explained.
...This logic seemed somewhat abrupt to me, but it wasn't my decision to make and I made no reply...
My wife looked directly into my face now and resumed our conversation regarding Prominent House.
- Babe, I know it's been tough, but please stay on board, just a little longer" Andrea said, rubbing my back firmly.
I took my wife's words to heart, yet I remained silent, just nodding my head.
"- Hey, it looks like we're going to see your old friend and his wife tomorrow, doesn't it? What's his name again, Andy?" my wife asked, soothingly.
"Yeah, Andy, he's a really good guy, Andrea. He and his wife said they'd meet us for coffee in the morning - he texted me while we were at the diner. You'll like them both," I replied.
"I know I will, Tim; because they're friends of yours, which means they're now friends of mine and Helen as well," she said.
"...What's the book's title going to be?" I asked after a silence, switching subjects again.
"The Gentle Giant" Andrea replied.
I nodded my head again, and there was another long moment of silence now as I sat with my wife.
"Lita's going to be with us tomorrow?" I asked.
"All day and Sunday, honey" Andrea replied.
"Good, maybe we can all get to know her a little better then," I said, on the verge of sleep and laying down again.
"We will," she said, turning out the light and pulling herself closer to me.
...The storm outside the window created a wonderful ambiance within our darkened hotel room and the sounds of the big trucks going in and out of the truckstop could also be heard periodically as I held my wife in peaceful sleep.
Even though I no longer wanted to drive the big trucks, I was still comforted by the sounds of them being near.
...I quietly pondered that perhaps the ambient sounds of a ship's rigging and a pair of idling diesels did the same for men who'd spent their entire lives at sea.
I strongly suspected that this was the case...
My mind now seemed to slip the bonds of earth and time as I listened to the unmistakable sounds of Jake Brakes and the raging storm outside. I fell into a deep and tranquil state of sleep as I recalled the conversation I'd had with my little brother, earlier that day. With abundant clarity I was able to recall, verbatim, everything we'd said to each other and the relief which I had experienced, simply by talking with Ricky.
My little brother was rough, tough, and often spoke his mind without any regard at all for political correctness or even civility. Yet, he would go to the wall for me without a second's hesitation if need be, he had my back.
My little brother loved me...
The events which had troubled me within the last two weeks, such as being depicted upon the cover of The International Monitor and being thrust into the strange mystery of Danny Wickersham's life and Prominent House, suddenly no longer mattered to me, and the fear which I had been experiencing dissipated like a cloud of smoke in the wind.
I was now ready to walk next to Andrea and Helen Lunsford and do whatever it was that needed to be done. I was ready to stand tall and support both ladies, regardless of what it took to do so...
...Feeling Andrea's warmth next to me, my mind slowly drifted far away like a kite upon the wind and I suddenly recalled a photograph that I had once taken of my little brother as he'd held Mom; when she'd been in her late eighties. Toward the end of her life, Ricky had dwarfed our mother, yet the sight of her within his massive tattooed arms showed the tender side of my little brother. The photograph showed his true heart of hearts, a gentle warrior.
My mother had often explained to me that Ricky valued honor and integrity in someone else, more than anyone she had ever known. She also stated that I had always been Ricky's childhood hero. I didn't feel that I had earned nor deserved this degree of respect from Ricky, yet I was extremely honored by it.
