Stories by ken_r
Chapter 12
“Max said you had a good time last night,” Philip Evans laughed.
“To see her face as we were playing was enough encouragement for me. I am making a note to self, ‘Play more music and work less.’” Edmond chuckled.
Philip raised his hand, “After we do something about Elizabeth.”
Edmond was thoughtful, “Do you remember when Durriken was in school with us?”
Philip scratched his chin, “Yes, but I haven’t heard from him since he went home to Romania. I still don’t know why he was allowed to be in college here by our government or by his.”
“That is what I mean, he knew how to do strange things. I remember he got away with several things in school because of his silver tongue,” Edmond mused. “You know, he really believed in the magic of his old people. I think they were Roma,”
Philip frowned, going back was hard sometimes, “Yes he was a Gypsy.”
Edmond leaned back, “Exactly, and now he is also a diplomat with diplomatic immunity. I, also, understand he is still a master manipulator when it comes to bending rules.”
Philip leaned back. This was something to think about. There was danger in the two of them becoming involved with Durriken if they were still representing Elizabeth. Edmond’s obligation was only with the emigration call at the time when Elizabeth had been picked up. Max could get another lawyer if any other trouble came up.
“Let us go to Washington,” Edmond suggested.
Philip and Edmond made an appointment at the Romanian embassy. They were ushered into a room lavishly appointed and they waited. Soon a man their age entered. He was wearing an Italian suit. His black hair was streaked with gray. The gray showed up even more than it did in either Philip or Edmond. “Ah, two men of business wanting a poor Gypsy to tell their fortune. Perhaps this child of Roma knows where fortunes and loves can be found,”
Edmond spoke, “Can it, you damned Gypsy or we will recall your passport.”
With that, Durriken embraced his two college friends. “And what can this poor Gypsy do for his rich American school mates?”
Philip chuckled, “We have a story to tell you. We can’t swear it is true, but we have to live with it, anyhow.” With that, they sat and related the whole story of the Liebermans, Calvin Smith, Micah and Melinda and finally Max, Elizabeth and the trumpet. When they were finished, Philip and Edmond sat back and looked at Durriken.
“My skeptical American friends. If I had told that story, you would have said I was returning to the ignorance of the hill people. I, on the other hand, find your story completely believable. A tortured soul, a magical spell, perhaps the belief of the elder Jewish grandfather. Yes, the soul creating for itself, its own existence fueled by love and artistry. I would like to meet the old man. I imagine we would have a lot of understanding between us. There are many stories like this among the old people,” Durriken said. I find it amusing that you, Philip, one of the most rational persons of our class, should have your only son as the target of this tale.”
Philip just shook his head, “There is no way I would have believed to if it had happened to any one else.”
“Yes, other than coming to the only person you would know that would unequivocally believe you, what can I do for you?” Durriken smiled as he spread his arms open to his friends.
Edmond spoke, “We also remember that Gypsy who challenged the rules at the law school and argued them into a complete revision.”
With this, Durriken laughed, “But for what other reason would a prestigious institution create such abominations of jurisprudence, than to tempt a young, aspiring lawyer to challenge them. You have to admit that the administration was running back to its roots trying to find precedence for such rules.”
“Well, we need your agile and slightly warped mind to help us. Maybe with some sort of international, diplomatical le jour d’main.” Philip requested.
Durriken threw back his head and laughed, “Like in law school, except we would be wooling over the heads and eyes of governments, eh no?”
Edmond handed Durriken an envelope. Here is a description, some photos including an old one, of Elizabeth. We have included all that either she or my son know about her.
Durriken smiled. There is one price, he grinned more, “When we are through, I want to bring my baritone sax and with you, my brother, I want to play a night with the of band of Philip’s son.”
Philip and Edmond laughed, “We even promise you billing as the Jazz king of Romania,” Philip said
They spent the rest of the day with Durriken talking and telling tales that happened so long ago that none of them clearly remembered, so what ever they said was accepted. After that Edmond and Philip returned to their homes.
It was seven O’clock in the morning. The phone rang as Philip Evans was getting out of the shower. Diane had already gotten up and was fixing breakfast. She answered the phone then calling, “Philip, its for you.”
Philip, with a towel still draped him and still dripping from just getting out of the bathroom, picked up the bedroom phone. “Yes,” was about all the greeting he had this early.
“Philip, turn on the national news channel. This is Edmond.”
Philip reached over to the bedroom TV and turned on NBC news, the morning news he always watched as he got dressed. There, looking at him, was Durriken. Philip, for a minute, remembered when they had been caught doing some prank or the other in college. It was always Durriken who stood up, and with great verbosity, would talk until the authorities would just throw them out of their offices in disgust. “…and as I was saying, my ward, Estell Williams, has been declared missing. She was traveling on a private yacht. She was to have landed sometime this summer in Florida. From there, she was to travel through the southwest and meet me just before Christmas here in Washington DC.”
One of the reporters shouted, “Minister, was there any report of her landing in Florida?”
Durriken raised his hands and shrugged, “We are checking on this, but we have not been able to find any record of her ship landing in Florida. The port authorities have no record of an Estell Williams ever going through their offices.”
“Minister, why are you just now sounding the alarm. Weren’t you worried when you didn’t hear from her for so long?”
Durriken just shrugged, “Young people to day, we had an argument when she left. She said she was able to handle her own affairs. This is not the first time something like this has happened.”
“Her name doesn’t sound Romanian. How is she related to you?”
“She isn’t Romanian, although she has never before been out or Romania. She was born of American parents during the dark ages of my country under the late dictatorship,” Durriken shed a tear as he answered this question. “Her parents were killed by the government. I rescued her and raised her as my own daughter. No notice of this was made, like so many things during that time. I was bringing papers so her citizenship could be established. She wanted the freedom of traveling on her own before completing college here in the United States.”
Philip, still holding the phone, “Well we did ask him to help us. I guess, we always knew that he would do it up big.”
Edmond chuckled, “Philip, I think a new trip to Washington is now due.”
Diane had been listening to the television. She came up to the bedroom, “Philip wasn’t that the Romanian we all knew in college? The one that always called himself a poor Gypsy?”
Philip was just sitting on their bed. The towel was still draped around his body, “That is him. I hope we always come out of this as well as we did in college.”
“Why, Philip? What does his ward have to do with you?” Diane queried.
“He thinks he is helping us. He is setting up an identity for Elizabeth,” Philip just sat there holding his head while Diane went back down stairs shaking her’s. She well remembered the things Durriken did back in college.
Edmond Vicinti and Philip Evans arrived at Washington D.C. the next day. The first thing they saw in the paper was a picture of Elizbeth as she must have looked when she was younger. The paper had an article about the Romanian/American who had disappeared. They had contacted the Romanian government, but even now, there is not complete trust between the Gypsies and the non-Gypsies in Romania. The Government could neither confirm nor deny the story. Durriken had added more information. The couple, Williams, had been killed in an attemp to start government unrest. There was no record of their little girl, but that was no surprise stnce she had been taken by the Gypsies to be raised. They referred the news authority to various Gypsy bands, but they made it clear that they didn’t want anything to do with the problem. Durriken, for the first time, added some very poorly defined pictures of Estell.
By the time Philip and Edmond arrived at the Romanian embassy, Durriken was feeling right well about himself. Durriken had filed his papers with the United States Social Security System and was well on the way to obtaining a workable birth certificate. It required notarized letters from people who had knowledge of her birth and of her birth parents. Durriken easily obtained these, mailed from Romania by his second cousin. It was his first cousin, who was a PhotoShop artist, that had sent the pictures the day before of Estell growing up. Philip asked, “What about the parents you claim were killed?”
Durriken just shook his head. “They were born of the flower children of the sixties. They were out to right the wrongs of the world. No one knows how he or she got into Romania, but it is documented that they were shot trying to foment a revolution in a totally totalitarian state.” Durriken shrugged, “They made it hard for those of us who were really ready to set up a revolution.”
Philip and Edmond returned to their homes. It was almost three days before someone on the university campus saw the similarity in Elizabeth to the mysterious ward of the deplomat. Then the Romanian embassy was flooded with calls.
Max and Elizabeth got up about nine o’clock that morning. They looked out their window and they saw news trucks, a crowd of cameramen and reporters. They quickly dressed and opened their door. The noise was deafening. The reporters, who had been a discrete distance from their apartment, crowded close with the invitation of the open door around the couple standing on the step.
“Estell, do you remember anything about Romania?” one reporter shouted.
“Estell, do you remember anything about arriving in America?” another requested.
Elizabeth was frightened and Max was confused. About that time, a black limousine with flags on the fenders and a motorcycle escort drove up honking to scatter the crowd in the street. An immaculate man about the age of Max’s father got out. He had clothes that definitely were expensive and imported. He strode up the walk maneuvering expertly among the crowd of reporters, supporters and just lurkers. He walked up to Elizabeth and put his arm around her. Turning to the crowd, he proudly announced, “I have found my beloved ward, Estell. Please give us time and we will have an announcement about what has happened to her. With that, he shepherded the couple from the step back into their apartment.
Max’s mind was still filled with sleep. He wasn’t clear what had happened or who was this “take charge” man who had entered their home with them. “Max Evans, you are the son of one of my best friends in college. Perhaps, if he hadn’t been so suave, I would have won your mother and you would have been my son. You my dear,” turning to Elizabeth, “are the child of magic. No, no, my children, to a child of Roma, magic is not an anathema. We are here to establish a real, non-magical, history so you can become a legal personage to this mundane, unbelieving world.”
If Max’s father had been present, he would have been transported to the Dean’s office so long ago as Durriken stood before officials of the university and confusticated them with his circulatorias logic. As it was, Max just sat wide-eyed as Durriken explained, “Philip and Edmond, my closest friends in college, have asked me to solve Elizabeth’s identity for the world. For me, I believe you are conjured by love and music into a living, breathing woman of extreme beauty and grace. It is the philistines in the world, those without imagination, those without love for either a beautiful woman or the excellence of music, that we must satisfy.
God, Max wished this man would speak straight English! He was worse than a politician. It was obvious that he enjoyed immensely, hearing his own rhetoric.
Durriken was going through some papers, “My child, your real name is Estell Williams. Your parents were killed right after you were born. They were children of the flowers. The sixties, was the time of awareness in America, but, alas, not of the rest of the world. You were raised by children of Roma, or Gypsies, to you. You disappeared while traveling to America by private yacht. The yacht also has disappeared, More than likely, taken by drug pirates when you were approaching the American coast. We know nothing of what happened to you until yesterday when your name and picture were forwarded to the Romanian embassy and, thus, as your guardian, to me.” Then Durriken dropped into perfect English, “Between you, me and the fence post, this is a pile of crap, but it is the best fiction I could write, given the timeline your father requested.”
Max and Elizabeth sat on the couch looking at this much “greater than life character.” Max looked at the papers Durriken was laying out on the coffee table before them. The first was decorated with all sorts of formal embossing. Max could not read the language it was written in. He did see the words Estell Williams. Durriken pointed to the paper, “This is Estell’s Romanian birth certificate.” He pointed to the next, “This is a sworn to birth certificate presented to Estell Williams stating she was born of American parents on foreign soil, that of blessed Romania. This is a copy of an application for a social security number. It would have been so much easier if we could have just asked my cousin to make one, but somewhere you have to be in the legal system. We, the children of Roma, are a minority in Romania, but they want to keep us happy so here is your Romanian paper of citizenship. Again, your own country will be a little slower getting your American citizenship papers to you.” Durriken leaned back and smiled. He hadn’t had so much fun since law school.
Max and Elizabeth just looked. “Why would you do all of this for us?” Max asked unbelieving in their good fortune, if this worked.
“Philip and Edmond and your mother put up with more shit from me when we were in college than I could ever repay. Your mother was always sure that I was going to get both of them kicked out of college. I enjoy a challenge and bilking an entity as big as a government makes the challenge that much better. Finally, I was promised a place playing bari-sax in your band for the time I was in town,” Durriken’s personality was so infectious that Max could well understand the friendship and fear his parents must have had being in school with him.
He had to chuckle at the most important payment Durriken wanted, that of playing in the band for a couple of evenings.
They went back outside to face the reporters. Here Durriken’s verbosity caused the tabloid reporters to write faster than they had ever done and still they knew they had missed most of what was said. Those with pocket recorders would spend hours trying to unwind the phrases recorded to make sense of what was said. To the cameras, Durriken should have received an ‘Oscar.’ He was in tears as he hugged Elizabeth now known as Estell. He proclaimed his joy at finding his lost ward and when asked about what happened to her, he loudly cried, “The fact that she is returned is enough. We will sort out what happened much later.” Durriken then turned to Max and embraced him, “This young man has cared for my precious Estell and I think they are in love. I bless them both in any search for happiness they can find.” With that, Durriken returned and pushed the three of them back inside. The reporters ate this up. It had romance, mystery, intrigue and everything else that sold news, but the local college kids were still remembering when Elizabeth now Estell was just a whisp and how she got stronger from the power of the trumpet.
“I will return in three weeks. Maybe then, you can arrange for our concert or better our ‘jam session,” Durriken then left.
Elizabeth and Max sat for a time. They were still broke and Max had about used up all of his credit. Elizabeth was now a legal entity and that should help. Tony heard about the “jam session.” He was considering how to cope with it. Two of the members of the band were in grad school. Klaus, the piano player, would get his master’s this spring. James, the winds player, would also graduate with a Master’s in Engineering. Bob, the string bass player and the nominal leader of the band, was a senior and would graduate with a business degree. Ernest, the drummer, was on the extended five, six or until his money ran out program. Durriken would be back before spring semester started, but the band needed to think about what they were going to do this next semester.
Max’s sister and his closest friends came by. Maria, was blown away by the press they had been getting. She knew something was not right, but she also knew that getting legal status for Elizabeth would make things much easier for Max. Michael knew that this man from somewhere was probably full of bull, but if it worked and made Max and Elizabeth happy, he would be satisfied. Truthfully, Alex would have preferred the story told by Durriken to have been true. It would have satisfied his mind with its logic but he still remembered Elizabeth being here all of a sudden and just as quickly disappearing. Isabel just wanted her brother to be happy. She was demanding and sometimes rude to him, but really, all she wanted was for him to finish school, get a job, get married and hang out like old marrieds with herself and Alex. Was that too controlling or too much to ask for?
Max told them about the future concert, “Maria would you bring some scores by and maybe sing a couple of torch songs with us?” Max wouldn’t have to ask Maria twice to do this.
Tony was trying to figure how to make the most of this concert. He finally decided that he would not use the club. He would rent a hall and bill this as the Graduates Band with Max and his magic trumpet, the Gypsy Jazz King, the Golden Bone of the Law School and the torchy voice of Miss Maria DeLuca. Then Tony got one more idea. He called a friend who did a lot of recording and asked if he would like to record this session. It was decided that they would play on two nights, a Friday and a Saturday. The ticket sales were set up and advertising was established. Max bought tickets for both nights for his parents and his friends. It was understood that the small table would be set up on stage for Elizabeth. The band was excited because their share would be enough to offset a considerable part of their spring semester expenses. Max was excited because his cut would sustain him until he and Elizabeth found a more lasting solution.
Diane and Isabel Evans took Elizabeth shopping. There was a certain amount of notoriety as they entered the dress shop. It took Diane and Isabel almost an hour to find something they could present to Elizabeth. For herself, Elizabeth would have been happy with almost anything in the shop. Nowhere in her present experience, nor in that of her barely remembered past, had she had an experience like this.
On the night of the concert, the hall had been sold out. The college kids were the first to grab what they could in tickets and then the locals who knew about the small club. Finally, when the press heard of it, they arrived in droves. The college kids who didn’t really care about music were in the crowd scalping with the best of them. Max’s parents and friends all had seats together, so Michael was with his friends as he heard the love of his life sing.
Although Ernest was made to get a clean denim shirt, they couldn’t make him tuck it in. Klaus appeared in a new black suit. James and Bob both wore turtle neck sweaters with dark slacks. Max wore dark slacks with a dress shirt. His kerchief that he used to hold the trumpet was tucked in his shirt pocket. When Max walked Elizabeth onto the stage, there was applause both for the band and for Elizabeth. Diane and Isabel discreetly gave each other a high five. The dress was a light blue that stopped well above the knees, but there were layers of netting, and finally, the outer shell of silver lace which made it much longer. The discrete length was off set by the translucent netting, adding a sexiness or innocence depending on how you looked at it. Durriken and Edmond came onto the stage wearing their law school blazers, although both having been let out a bit to account for time.
They opened with St. Louis Blues. Durriken’s guttural baritone saxophone leading, to be answered by Max an octive above. James, on clarinet, took the melody with Durriken and Max battling each other. The whole time Edmond’s trombone was wailing an answer at each phrase. Klaus and Bob were keeping up the beat with chords. Even Michael thought it was good. The rest of the audience were thrilled. Then Maria walked on the stage. She was wearing a floor length black gown, which emphasized her blond hair. Her deal with the band was that she could sing two of her own original songs, then she would sing the rest of their choosing. She started off with a song she had written. Her smoky, whisky voice came across to the audience. It was surprising how quiet they became while listening to her. The band played softly in the background, except for a break for her to catch her breath, then back to her singing at the end. The audience gave her a standing ovation, except for Michael who whistled and hurrahed. Maria retired to sit with Elizabeth at the small table. Elizabeth held Maria’s hands across the table as she said her appreciation to the young singer.
Next, they performed some traditional Dixieland pieces featuring Edmond’s trombone and Durriken’s baritone Sax.
The night went that way. They tried to feature every player and support each other. Maria had promised to do her best in exchange for displaying her own creations. Durriken had been promised a good time. Everything had been achieved beyond everyone’s expectation.
Around the hall Tony had placed several signs advertising that this band regularly played at his club. The recording man came to him and stated that he wanted to record again tomorrow.
Max and Elizabeth made their way home. At home, they lay in their bed and were talking, waiting for their adrenaline to recede. “Elizabeth, we have come a long way since that day in the pawn shop. Old Ibrum was right when he said you were magical,” Max whispered to her.
“Max, I am not sure that is quite what he really said. He said I would be part of something magical. At that time, it was assumed he was talking about Micah and Melinda. I think he all along knew that something beyond them was going to happen. He, also, was so sure that you were going to be part of it that he worked to make you buy Micah’s trumpet,” Elizabeth was lying against Max’s chest, her head on his arm.
Max sighed, “All of this because people love people and also music. We have been so blessed to have so many friends who have enjoyed music.
The second night was a repeat of the first with different songs. Max also had obtained three tickets for Mr. Lieberman, grandpa and Calvin Smith. Again, though he enjoyed the concert, Calvin watched Elizabeth thinking all the while about his absent Melinda. Elizabeth had told Calvin that she was not Melinda, but she contained what was best in Melinda. Calvin would remember that Melinda was gone, but the best of all of her essence would live on in Elizabeth. Calvin understood none of this, but he treasured the thoughts.
Durriken flew back to D.C., but he promised to return to check on his ward from time to time. Tony was working on a deal to present to the band. The recording company wanted to produce the recording of live music if they could reach an agreement with everyone concerned. When he presented this proposal to the band, along with the proceeds from the concert and royalties they realized they would all be able to finish the rest of their college semesters without worry. Max found that he would have enough to handle tuition for both himself and Elizabeth along with their expenses. The band talked it over and they agreed to play at Tony’s club on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. They would make this a regular thing and it would give them enough money to see their semesters through as well as provide a start for the graduates to begin their lives. The three days a week with careful scheduling, could be arranged to not interfere with their studies.
A news agency turned up the Williams family who were related to Estell. They weren’t very nice when interviewed. They all said that the woman their boy had married had a sullied reputation. They did not think Estell was their son’s child. Elizabeth felt bad about even her surrogate parents being spoken of in this way. It took Durriken to straighten her out. As he hugged her to him he said, “if you were seen as pure, there would always be questions about your heritage. As it is, they imply that your pretend mother had an affair with a child of Roma. That makes you even more precious to my people, who definitely do believe in magic, and to the press it makes you a figure to be supported. Since your supposed relatives denounce you thus, they will support you.
Sometimes Elizabeth really wished that Durriken was her guardian and a person who had brought her up. On his part Durriken reminded her that for the public he would remain so and since she had been brought up by magic, she was special.
Epilog
Eventually, Max and Liz were married, two times. Once in a Presbyterian church and again by a group of gypsies residing in the United States. Liz found that her interest in biology was real and she went on to get several degrees in biochemistry and then molecular biology. Liz went by Elizabeth when she was among friends but among her adopted people and with Durriken, she went buy the name Estell.
Max finally graduated and took his business management degree on to manage a hospital. He became a patron of healers. Isabel and Alex married and started their own company in marketing. Maria, from the exposure she received from the infamous concert, got a chance to go on tour. It was always noticed that at various stops during the tour, she was met by a strong handsome young man who was reported to be an executive in a construction company. Eventually, she tired of travel and she settled down to be the wife of the executive, but she to write music for a publishing company. Tess allowed her self to be humped by the captain of the football team, and for a short time, she gloried in his achievements. Later, she settled down to work in an insurance company. Kyle drifted for a time after college. Then while studying in India, he met a Ballywood starlet. They married once he became a security consultant in the Far East. No matter where they started, it was as if they were destined to travel certain paths.
By the way, Max and Liz named their daughter Melinda. Calvin Smith was her godparent. They traveled several times to Romania where Max was instrumental in setting up several hospitals there.
Once a year, until the death of Edmond, they played as the Gypsy king of jazz and the magic trumpet in Tony’s little club along with the current college combo that played there regularly.
I have finished my fairy tale. I did this in remembrance of my son the Macintosh programmer and the jazz trumpeter who never got to finish his life. Thank you for walking with me as I spin this yarn
Ken r
The Slave Girl
part 2 Wife and Lady
part 3 Jenny’s Pride
part 4 Oliver The Dream Complete
this an original story. it is in four parts. The links are above. let me know if you like it. All of the parts will be posted at:
Writers Cave at Roswell Heaven
