The Chardon Chronicles: Season One -- The Harvest Festival (43 page)

“I think we have to do it.” Telia said.

“Yes.” Matt agreed.

“So, let’s get cash advances and set up a
fund for Tracy.”

“She’s too young. Robbie will have to handle
the money. I think we need to hide it a little.” Matt said.

Telia sobbed, “Is our will up-to-date?”

Matt grabbed her hand. “Yeah. It’s at the
lawyers.”

Telia said, “Alright, I want a fucking car.
Let’s use these things and make sure they work. She took out the
black card.”

Matt and Telia drove to a specialized car
dealership in Shaker Heights. There was no sign, just a brick
driveway that went between some hedges. Within the hedge, there was
a large barn. Where the horse stalls had been there were vintage
sports cars.

A man in a polo shirt and shorts walked out
to greet them. “Hi, I’m Dale. Just buzz this if you need anything.”
He handed them a little single button remote and left them
alone.

“I like that!” Matt said.

“Oh my god!” She said. She found the
Austin-Healey. “I’ve always loved these.” she buzzed the
buzzer.

“I’ll take it.” she handed him the card.

“Would you like a test drive?” Dale asked.
“She’s as solid as these can be, you’ll love it, I know.”

“I already love it.”

“OK. I wish my job were always that easy.
Follow me.” They did the paperwork. “Did you want to buy it
outright or finance some? Interest rates are ridiculously low.”

“Just buy it.” Telia said.

“Do you care how much it costs?” He
chuckled.

“Not really.” She shrugged.

“Alright, then!” he swiped the card. For a
second, he considered adding a few thousand to the price, but
didn’t go through with it. The machine printed a receipt and Telia
signed it.

“I’ll put tags on it, and you’re all
set.”

They went to the bank. They tried to get the
maximum cash advance, but the bank was unable to come up with the
money. They called the service number on the back.

Matt said, “Ragnorok.”

Francis said, “Hello Matt!”

“Say, Francis, we’re trying to get a cash
advance using the card, but our bank won’t do it. We can only get
$10K.”

“Alright, we’ll send a banker to your home
tomorrow. You want all cash? How much do you want?”

Matt shrugged and looked at Telia. “Um, how
about ten million. What do you recommend?” Matt asked.

Francis didn’t skip a beat, “For such a large
amount, I’d do part cash, and the rest assets, including precious
metals, stock, real estate. If you prefer, I will set it all
up.”

“Can you put it in my brother’s name?”

“Sure, we’ll send a banker and a lawyer.”

The rest of the school week went by very
slowly for Morgan and Steve. Tracy and Chloe had been swept up in
the homecoming activities during the week and were incommunicado.
Thursday seemed like a prison sentence punctuated by bells.
Demetria sent them texts when she was bored, which was most of the
time. The phone would buzz, and there’d be a picture of Marta
posing for her, or Demetria nude on the bed, in the garden, on the
motorcycle.

She sent Morgan an angry text. “They wouldn’t
sell me groceries. :(“ The attached picture was Demetria standing
in line at the grocery store in the nude. He stifled a laugh.

“You should have gone to a male cashier.”
SEND

“Why would that matter?” she wrote back.

“Hey Morgan!” the study hall teacher snapped.
“No texting. Give me that phone.”

“No.” Morgan said matter of factly. He
realized some of Demetria’s tone snuck into his voice.

“OK, but just put it on mute…” the teacher
said.

Morgan was surprised at the effect. He wasn’t
really sure how it worked.

“Bored!” she wrote him. “Come, now?”

“OK.” SEND he got up from his seat and walked
out of the building. The Audi was parked in the school lot. He
clicked the remote to unlock the car even though the top was down.
He just loved the sound it made. He fired up the engine. The car
roared to life. The V10 engine rumbled like an angry animal. He
pulled onto the road and headed to her house.

He rang the bell. Marta answered the door in
a French Maid outfit. “Mr. Morgan, nice to see you.”

“You too, Marta.”

Demetria ran up to him. She had been working
out and was in a sweaty shirt and short shorts. She hugged him. “I
missed you so much.”

“Me too.” he said.

She looked into his eyes and said matter of
factly, “Morgan, I can tell you are starting to love me. Really
love me.” She walked him back to the den.

“I admit, I am having feelings for you. I’ve
been wondering about what it means to ‘be your consort’.”

“Oh, it is the best relationship. We’d be
married, but you’d be no husband, and I’d be no wife. Marta, come
sit with us.” She sat down between them. Demetria stroked her
hair.

“Not a husband but married?”

“The bond surpasses that.” she straddled his
lap. “For you, it is a chance to grow into who you are really meant
to be. I’m distilled, over and over into a very pure, strong thing.
You are mixed and confused, but real and beautiful. We could be
together until the end of time, you’d outlive this feeble vessel.”
she touched his face and lips. “I will show you more today…”

“More?”

“Yes. Marta can you call them?”

“Yes, Demetria.” Marta left the room.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

About a half hour passed then Marta entered
the room, “Miss, they are here.”

“Send them out to the garden.” she said to
Marta. “Here come.” she took Morgan’s hand and led him to a
balcony.

A handful of teenage girls walked into the
back yard and started singing. Their voices were eerie and
beautiful. They wore sheer white gowns that clung to their
bodies.

The harmonies were alien to Morgan’s ears.
She held his hand. “These songs are praises for
me
. They are
ancient songs of harvest time.”

He nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

“You see it in them. I can tell. It’s their
devotion to
me
that’s so lovely. They could be as devoted to
you, too.” She held his hand, then bit his ear and whispered in a
husky, tickling voice, “Pick one, or two, or all of them.”

Morgan smiled dreamily, the girls were like a
box of candy. “Which one do you like?” he asked her.

“You know my type,” she smiled and eyed
Marta.

“It works for me, too.” One of the girls was
like a younger version of Marta. Demetria called to her, “Child
come.” The girl clasped her hands together in ecstatic joy and
climbed the steps up to them. The other girls continued singing and
tried to conceal their disappointment. “You will all have a chance.
Don’t be sad!” she called out to the rest of them and blew a
kiss.

Marta led the girl to the bathroom and bathed
her. Demetria led Morgan to the bed.

“What should I wear to this homecoming
dance?” She asked him.

“Clothes are not my department, as you might
have guessed.” he pointed to his outfit. He wore jeans and a
sweatshirt.

“Do you understand this homecoming ritual?”
She asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it that way.” Morgan
looked puzzled, “But yeah it is one.”

“The warriors fight on the field to honor the
god. It’s a blood sacrifice.” She laughed, “Sometimes the victors
were honored by dying for their god. Blood sewn into the
field.”

“That really makes no sense at all.” Morgan
said.

She giggled. “There is a certain logic to it,
no?”

“Hmmm…. Yeah, if their blood contains their
power.”

“Also, the king and the queen of this
homecoming dance should go fuck in the fields and the people should
watch, then join in.”

“There is a certain logic to it--I mean, it’s
crazy, but I think I understand.”

“I knew you would. You
really
understand. So many pretenders.” She kissed him. “I have something
to confess to you. I hope you will still love me. You see all
this,” she gestured to the room, “All this opulence. It’s actually
a cage.” her face hardened.

Morgan sat up, “What do you mean?”

“The explanation will have to wait.” Demetria
smiled at him. The naked girl walked into the room. She covered her
chest as if she were cold. “Oh don’t hide yourself. You are
lovely.” Demetria stood up and walked around the girl.

The girl smiled and looked at her adoringly,
“Thank you Demetria.”

Demetria gestured at Morgan, “This is my
consort-in-waiting, Morgan.”

The girl eyed him with the same wild eyed
devotion. He felt a slight tingle and energy from it.

“Have you seen a man naked before?” Demetria
asked her and stroked her silky black hair.

“No,” she shook her head.

“Well, this will be a real experience for
you.” Demetria kissed her.

“Wakey wakey!” Chloe whispered in Tracy’s ear
and nudged her shoulder. Tracy’s room was still dark. Only the
trickle of light from the kitchen down the hallway illuminated the
side of Chloe’s face.

“Whaaaa….” Tracy stirred. “What time is it?”
she mumbled into her pillow.

“It’s five in the A.” she whispered.

“Already? Ugh.” she pulled the blankets over
her head.

“We have to get you ready for your
coronation!”

Tracy laughed and it turned into a groan. “I
really hope
you
are the queen Chlo. I hope you practiced
your wave for the parade all night!”

Chloe held a hand up by her face and rotated
it back and forth. Tracy giggled, then sat up. “Alright, I’m
up.”

Keith was awake already, too. There was a big
breakfast on the counter with lots of slices of fresh fruit,
pancakes, and scrambled eggs and bacon.

“There are two queens at my table! Ma would
be so proud of her son, entertaining royalty in his
condominium.”

“Well, we don’t know if we’re royalty, yet.
And frankly, the homecoming queen doesn’t have a lot of power, does
she?” Tracy said.

“It’s not about power. It’s about attitude.”
he said.

Chloe pointed at him, “I don’t know what you
mean, but I think you’re right.”

Keith shrugged, “It’s too early to form a
coherent thought. I’m going to eat and drink coffee for like, hours
this morning.”

Tracy looked at the schedule, “Wow, there’s a
lot going on today.”

Chloe guffawed, “Football supercedes school
work, I guess.”

They ate breakfast at a quick pace. “Let’s go
get pretty.” Chloe said.

He took a picture of the girls before they
left to go get styled. He sat on the couch and drank coffee and
wondered about how The Old Stone Gathering Hall led back to Marcus
Rice and Susan Cantoe. He texted Rich Simons. “Possible local
involvement in case.”

His phone buzzed. Rich wrote back. “In office
at 8:30. Come any time after.”

“Hey Rich,” Keith poked his head into the
office.

“Keith! Come on in. Coffee?”

“Sure. Got up at four thirty this morning.
The girls are in the homecoming court and they started getting
ready at six. Can you believe it?”

“You must be so proud.” Rich smacked Keith’s
arm.

“No doubt. They’re both stellar. Just amazing
girls.”

“So, you mentioned possible local
involvement.”

Keith sat down, “Rich, this thing could be
big. I mean, I hate to jump ahead, but wow, some crazy shit is
going on.”

Rich nodded. He took out a notepad. “OK. Give
me the story.”

Keith put photos of the Old Stone Hall onto
the table. Then pictures of Reichstaff, the Sheriff, and the Judge.
He pointed at them. “So the Cantoes led me to this guy, and this
guy led me to the sheriff and the judge.”

“Hmmm…. That’s, well, that blows my
mind.”

“I won’t even tell you the rest of the story
unless you tell me what’s going on with your people.” Keith
said.

Rich sighed. “Alright, Keith, this is just
between us, OK.”

Keith nodded, “Fine.”

Rich said, “What you’ve found is so far
beyond the pissant bullshit my clients wanted. They wanted some
leverage to force Ralph to resign and retire. But, now the
Sheriff’s involved. It looks like a conspiracy! I’m going to need
to bump this up to the prosecutor, now.”

Keith said, “No way.” he took the photos.

“Keith, we have to. This might need to bubble
up to the state level, maybe the feds.”

“Rich, you have no idea how far, or where the
rot might go. It’s flat out dangerous, not only for you, but for
me, too.”