Cupid's Treasure - Mystery of the Golden Arrow (15 page)

“Yes, please.” Amber giggled.

~*~

Jonathan put another handful of beer nuts in his mouth and chewed. “Aw, c’mon!” he yelled at the screen. “I can’t believe he didn’t put that rebound back in.”

“He’s got no game.” Hank shook his head in disgust as the waitress delivered a plate of chicken wings and potato skins. “I’m going to get this next pitcher, Shelly,” Hank said. “Let’s try the dark beer next.”

“You got it,
hon,” Shelly said as she topped off their glasses and left with the pitcher.

“Watch him make
this three pointer,” Hank said as he stood up. “Yes!” He shouted along with the rest of the crowd as he walked back to the restrooms.

“I wanted to show you something.” Harold removed a small vial from his pocket, handing it to Jonathan.

“What is it?” Jonathan asked.

“It is the residue I collected from the tip of the arrow.” Harold said.

Jonathan held it up to the light so that he could see it better. There was a clear division of the liquid. A yellowish substance floated on the top.

“The separation was actually quite easy due to the high partition coefficient of the compounds’ subtle differences.”

“Really,” Jonathan shook it up. “Do you know what it is?”

“Well, in truth I’ve never seen the chemical makeup of this particulate before, but according to the chromatogram’s graphic analysis and the electromagnetic spectroscopy output,” Harold said,
“it shares many of the same attributes and properties as the
crassostrea virginica
.”

“Come again?” Jonathan raised a brow.

René chuckled. “
Crassostrea
is the
oistre.
”

“Oyster?”
Jonathan said, looking again through the glass vial.

“Yes,” Harold said. “I was able to isolate the two active ingredients, D-aspartic
acid, and N-mythyl-D aspartate.”

“Tell me you understand this.” Jacques looked at Jonathan who shook his head.

“They are both rare amino-acids,” Harold supplied.

“That sounds fairly benign,” Jonathan said as he opened the lid.

“Careful,” Harold said. “Its potency is exponentially higher than that of the normal
bivalve molluscs
.”

Jonathan then sniffed it. “It’s odorless.” He held it out to Jacques who sniffed it next.

“I detect nothing,” Jacques said. “Is it toxic?”

“That depends on how you would view an aphrodisiac,” Harold said.

“So you are saying this is some sort of
love potion
?” Jacques asked.

“There was also another compound present that is known to stimulate pheromone production,” Harold said.

“Have you run any test to find out what the effects are?” Jonathan asked.

“That would require a test subject,” Harold replied.

“We could put it on Elvis and see if Kisses likes him,” Jacques said.

“I’m not sure it would have the same effect outside of our own species,” Harold said. “And I am most interested to see if this is absorbed into your body.”

“Me?” Jonathan pointed to himself. “No-no-no!” He held his hand up. “Why am I the guinea pig?”

All three men looked at him.

“Look, I’m not the only one here with unusual attributes.” Jonathan pointed to both Jacques and René.

“So what would you suggest?” Jacques asked. “We draw straws?”

“Well, that at least would be more fair,” Jonathan said.

“But we are all married,” René said. “We cannot be the test subjects, just in case it does attract women, or worse one of us might fall in love with the wrong woman.”

“Good point,” Jacques said.

“But it’s okay if I go for the wrong woman?” Jonathan looked at them like they were heartless.

“Of course not,” René said.

“There would be less collateral damage if that were the case,” Harold said.

“And what if the side effects are more concentrated below the belt?” Jonathan asked. “All that awaits me is a cold shower. It makes more sense that a man who is married should be the one to try it.”

“This, too, is a good point,” Jacques agreed. “It is only fair that we draw straws. I shall hold them.”

“No, that’s not fair!” Jonathan looked down at the straw in his hand and then cast an accusatory glance in Jacques’s direction. “We should do it again, and this time I get to hold the straws.”

“I assure you, I did nothing to alter the outcome of this game.” Jacques lifted his chin, suggesting he was slightly offended by the remark.

Jonathan sighed.

“You would think that a single man would jump at the chance to participate in this type of experiment,” Jacques said. “Are you saving yourself for someone in particular?”

“Okay, fine,” Jonathan said to stop the hints in that direction.

Harold pulled a paper pouch out of his pocket, pulled out a sterile swab, and handed it to him. “Since a needle doesn’t exist that can draw your blood, we will have to test the rate of absorption, if any, with your saliva.”

“I hate being a forgone conclusion.” Jonathan took it from him and stuck it in his mouth.

“Well,” Jacques said, “I for one will still love and respect you in the morning.”

Jonathan looked at the vial on the table like it contained snake venom. “What now?”

“Shake it up and use your finger to apply it to your skin,” Harold instructed.

“Does it matter where?” Jonathan asked.

“I would think the pulse points would be best.”

Jonathan shook it, tipped it onto his finger, and applied it to his wrist. “There, happy?”

Harold withdrew his glasses, pen, a note pad, and another swab packet.

“Pee-
yoo!” Hank said as he slipped into the seat next to him. “Man, we are trying to eat here.”

Harold leaned over and sniffed, jotting something in his notes.

“Man, are you running one of your experiments here?” Hank leaned over to read Harold’s note and read it aloud. “Exudes unpleasant odor.” He looked at Jonathan. “Yeah, you can say that again. I’m going to have to change places.”

Shelly arrived at the table with the pitcher of beer. “That will be five dollars—

hmmm,” she sniffed, “whose cologne is that?”

“Don’t look at me.” Hank held up his hands.

“What does it smell like?” Harold asked curiously.

“I don’t know.” She inhaled deeply again.
“Old spice and a hint of musk. You know what? This pitcher’s on me, fellas.”

“Why, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” she said, inhaling deeply as she walked away.

Harold handed Jonathan a swab and looked at his watch. “What are your feelings for our waitress?”

“Shelly?” Jonathan looked at him like he was crazy. “Oh, hell no.”

“Not interested in the opposite sex,” Harold wrote.

Jonathan watched him. “Don’t write that,” he said around the swab in his mouth. “I’m very attracted.”

“To anyone in this room?”
Harold asked curiously, looking out at the room.

Jonathan didn’t need to look. He already knew the only woman he was thinking about or interested in was back at the house having her hair dyed blue or some other hellacious thing. “No.” He chuckled.

Patricia Parker walked into Flannigan’s and sat down at the bar.

Harold took note of her arrival.
“How about now?”

“No, but I do need to see somebody about a book,” Jonathan said, standing up.

“Non!”
Jacques laid a hand on his arm. “Not now. Let’s wait 'til the side effects wear off.” All the other men at the table readily agreed.

Hank picked up the vial on the table and examined it. “So what is this exactly?”

“Ah—it’s a new cologne the professor is working on,” Jacques said.

“This is what you are doing up in the attic?” Hank said as he opened the bottle and sniffed it. “I don’t smell anything.” Before anyone could stop him, he dabbed some behind each ear.

“Uh—” Jonathan uttered, lifting up his hand to take the bottle.

“What?” Hank said. “I didn’t use much. It’s not like I’d want to go home smelling like a French whore.”

Jacques sniffed the air. “No worries there.” He coughed.

The table of men behind them looked back. “What died?” One guy waved his hands in the air. “C’mon, you guys are killing us!” They got up and moved to another table across the room.

“Very interesting,” Harold said as he scribbled in his notes.

“I can hardly take it,” Jacques said as he gagged. “I may have to join them.” He indicated the table of men that had just left.

“How do you feel?” Harold asked Hank.

“Fine.”
He shrugged. “Why?”

“Would you mind swabbing?” Harold asked.

Their waitress came back to the table with another pitcher of beer. “This is from the ladies in the corner.” She smiled. “Mm—hmm,” she sighed, looking at Hank. “Have you done something different with your hair?”

“No,” he said in surprise, running a hand over his bald head.

“Very interesting indeed,” Harold remarked as he scribbled in his pad.

Hank watched the waitress walk away. “That’s amazing! I wonder what Charlene is going to do?”

~*~

“Ah!” Charlene said when Jessie’s hair was revealed. “I love it!” She patted her own hair and craned her neck to see her reflection in the mirror.

“No peeking, now,” Gloria said as she removed the towel from Amber’s hair. “You girls promised.”

“Yes, we did.” Charlene sat back. “I just can’t wait to see it,” she said then fell silent as Amber’s dark golden curls were unleashed. “Oh, she breathed, “girl, wait 'til you see yours!”

Amber picked up one of her tresses and swallowed. It was her natural color. “I thought it was going to be blue,” she said in dismay.

“Just the treatment was blue,” Gloria said.

“Oh, honey, you are going to love it!” Charlene said. “Just wait until Hercules gets a load of you.”

“Who?”
Amber asked.

“Jonathan,” Charlene amended.

Jessie laughed. “I’ve always thought of him as Thor myself.”

Mavis chuckled. “He reminds me of Bam-Bam. He looked just like him as a little boy.” She put the eyeliner down she’d been applying on Amber and out came a purse sized photo album. “Look, here he is as a baby, and here he is on Halloween when he was two.”

“Aw, he’s dressed as Bam-Bam,” Charlene said. “And look at you dressed as Wilma and your husband is he?”

“Zeus,” Mavis said with a chuckle. “He loved a toga.”

Amber found her glasses and put them on to see. “He is adorable!”

“I keep hoping to be able to bounce another one just like him on my knee.” She sighed.

Charlene nudged Amber and winked.

“Now, I have a surprise,” Mavis said. “I stopped by the dress shop on my way home.”

“Momma Mavis you shouldn’t have,” Charlene said as both Katie and Mavis left the room. “Oh, boy!” she whispered to Amber and Jessie. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Another polyester blue suit?”
Jessie giggled.

“Oh, dang,” Charlene said, slapping her thigh. “This is too funny!”

“Admittedly, the first time I saw him,” Amber said, “I thought of him as an avenging angel.”

“Jonathan an angel?
Maybe a fallen one.” Charlene snorted. “No, I still say Hercules.”

“A Greek god.”
Amber nodded, taking a sip of champagne. “Most definitely.”

“Just let me put the finishing touches on,” Gloria said as she opened the tube of mascara.

Amber took her glasses off again and let her apply it. She’d used it a few times before when her hair was dyed dark.

“I really like this shade of lipstick,” Charlene said as she scooted over to pick up the tube.

Crunch!

“Oh, please don’t tell me,” Charlene groaned. “Sugar, you’re going to kill me!”

“What happened?” Gloria asked.

“I’ve squashed Amber’s glasses,” Charlene said, picking them up. “I’ll get you a new pair, hon.”

“What is your prescription?” Gloria asked, peeking through the lenses. “I can see through these. You know, I may have a pair that will work for you.”

“Really?”
Charlene placed her hand over her heart. “That would make me feel so much better.”

Gloria went to her room and returned a moment later. “Here, try these.”

“I don’t want to take your glasses,” Amber said.

“Nonsense, you have to see.” Gloria held them out. “Let’s take a look.”

“Oh, those are cute,” Charlene said. “Now I’m almost glad I did that. And tomorrow when we get you a new pair, I’m helping you find frames like those!”