36. The Powers That Be were all meeting in Chris's cabin. Normally, they would be at some luxury resort far away from the guts of the show, but Chris's situation seemed serious. They didn't want to leave him alone, and they thought he might benefit from feeling included in these planning sessions.
There must have been an army of TPTB--all dressed as if ready to club the links.
"This is how I want to see it go down," asserted No. 1.
"How's that, boss?" chimed in Nos. 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6.
"Well, I think we need to have several scenes playing at once--like in a blockbuster movie that's about to break for intermission. Emily here, the guys there, conflict here, love story there--all edited and interwoven like an intricate dance, with sweeping dramatic music to set the tone." No. 1 was nothing if not ambitious. "The audience will be sucked in, for sure."
"Oh, kind of like a cross between The Godfather and Dr. Zhivago," said No. 2.
"Exactly," No. 1 nodded.
"Um, No. 1, this is supposed to be reality we're talking about, not some book brought to the screen. We have no plot; we have no literary devices," countered No. 3.
"That's right," said No. 4. "We've got a girl and a bunch of guys who just want to be on TV. It's not like there's a lot to work with."
"Yeah, who's going to slog through the snow across the Ural Mountains to have a love affair, or take out some cops in a public restaurant?" added No. 5.
"It's OK, boss. We'll figure it out," assured No. 6. "It's not like our audience is looking for quality or anything."
Chris raised his hand and started to speak. "I could . . ."
"Don't worry, lad," said No. 1. We've got it handled. You just get your rest." Turning to his minions, No. 1 continued, "Make it so. Let's go where no TV show has gone before. Engage!"
37. Charon had taken Tanner on the boat back to Never World. Tanner was famished--he'd never even had lunch before he bailed on the shopping trip with Emily. "Is there anything to eat in this boat?" Tanner asked Charon.
"Let me check the cooler," Charon answered. He opened the lid, and handed Tanner a glass. He opened a bottle of champagne and poured some into Tanner's glass.
Tanner thanked him, but added, "I really need some food."
Charon peered into the cooler again. "Heavens! I'd forgotten all about these things buried under the pills." Tanner wasn't about to ask what kind of pills would be in a champagne cooler on a boat in the middle of a river to nowhere. He glanced over and could have sworn he saw a label that said "Tums."
"Yeah, you can try one of these." Charon handed Tanner a biscuit that looked for all the world to be preserved in concrete. Taner tried a small bite, and the whole thing crumbled into dust. It tasted like concrete, too.
Over at the bunk house, Bentley felt a little jolt and recited, "Another one bites the dust."
38. Their meeting ended, TPTB--all but No. 6--left Chris's cabin. No. 6 was told to keep an eye on Chris. The two weren't acquainted, though, and No 6. wasn't used to engaging in conversation unless it was to be a "yes man" for No. 1.
Chris started talking--apparently to himself. "I just don't know what to do. I haven't even tended the roses, and they're a special variety created just for the show--Bachelor Blooms. Isn't that a cool name? What a waste! No one cares about them. No one cares how many there are. No one cares if I say it's time to hand them out. No wine glasses to shine. No butter knives to polish. Emily's acting way too normal, and no one seems to be messing with her head yet. Unless I can unearth a juicy scandal, I'm toast, history, outta here, so 37 seconds ago.."
Chris summoned Russell Crow. "Russell, can you be my eyes and ears on these dates and in the houses? I need you to dig up all the dirt you can."
"I don't do dirt!" Russell squawked contemptuously. "That's for the chickens."
"Well, then, how about some nice gossip and rumors?" pleaded Chris.
"It depends on whether you can make it worth my while." Russell flapped his wings. "You know I'm supposed to report everything to TPTB."
"How about I give you access to the cornfield on the edge of the wildlife preserve? I'll get rid of the scarecrow for you." Chris offered.
"Now you're talking! I saw a fetching brunette over there just the other day! Humans aren't the only bachelors and bachelorettes, you know. I think her name is Lenore," Russell said longingly.
"Your wish is my command," promised Chris.
39. There Charon was, back in town for another one of Emily's castoffs. He wondered why he was having to make these trips at such odd hours! He planned to speak to the union about it.
As Charon pulled up to the dock, he was stunned to see Mike. "Hey, there, junior," Charon shouted, beckoning. "Over here!"
Mike walked over to the boat and climbed in. Charon said, "Hey, junior! I wasn't expecting you, and surely didn't think you would be leaving so soon." Charon handed Mike a fishing pole. "This will make you feel better."
"Oh, Dad just had another one of his harebrained ideas." Mike cast his line into the water. "He tried to fix me up with Ali, but she would have none of it. So now he's determined to have Emily in the family. But if he thinks I'm going to spend my date nights going to chick flicks, he's got another think coming. Geez! I never do chick flick duty until after I've gotten to third base. We didn't even finished lunch! What was he thinking?" Mike ranted. "I don't get why a TV mogul in the business of selling fake romance can't come up with something more fun to do. How are we supposed to pretend we're in love with no more than that to work with? I think he's losing it!"
"I hear ya, bro'," Charon nodded. "Shall I drop you off at the golf course?"
"Sure, why not?" Mike replied. "I might as well have it out with him right now. Then I can hop a plane back to LA and go surfing."
"Whoa! Here's a beauty!" Mike, elated, landed his fish, removed the hook, and handed it to Charon to put in the cooler. "Enjoy that, now."
Charon rowed upstream until they reached the shore that adjoined the 16th hole of the course. As soon as he had both feet on the ground, Mike turned to wave to Charon and at first didn't see the flock of chickens pecking furiously at the ground. When Mike opened his mouth to say goodbye, he breathed in a cloud of dust and started choking. It was all he could do to regain his composure. Charon laughed, "It looks like the chickens are starting to come home to roost."
Relaxing in the bunkhouse, Bentley nodded knowingly. Another one had bitten the dust.
40. Richard was getting restless. He had had such a wonderful time on his date with Emily, and felt they had made a special connection. He just wasn't sure what kind of connection it was. Still, it was important for him to stay as long as he could to find out. He was already concerned when he'd have another chance to talk to her. He knew she had a daughter and was hoping to meet the little girl as well.
Maybe a nature walk would clear his head. He'd heard there was a wildlife preserve nearby, and decided to ask if he could borrow one of the cars to go and find it. He went over to the garage. The production crew member in charge of transportation was there. Richard made his request. The crew man hesitated at first, afraid of breaking the rules of isolation, as it were, but there was something so compelling and earnest about Richard. The man exuded integrity.
"Here," the crew man said. "We just got the Beamer back from the shop. You should enjoyy that. It's all gassed up." He handed Richard the keys.
Richard thanked the crew man and drove off. He took the bridge across the river and headed toward the preserve. When he reached the entrance, he parked the car, got out, and walked to the gate. Before he could wonder where the attendant was, the gate opened, as if on a silent command. Richard entered and began walking. He'd almost reached a stand of trees when he spotted an exquisite lion with a glorious mane sunning himself in the grass.
Drawn, Richard walked toward the lion. As he got closer, though, he heard the lion roar; he hesitated.
"What's the matter?" the lion said. "Are you afraid I'm going to make mincemeat out of you?"
"Well, when you put it that way," Richard couldn't help but chuckle, "yes!"
"Are you kidding me? I'm a Disney lion--as docile as they come. And you know,
Disney lions are put in the world to do good deeds and raise awareness for wisdom and peace." The lion gently swished his tail.
"Yes," Richard answered, "Something like the Lion King, right?"
"Oh," said the lion, "not only like him, I'm his brother, Harry. Prince Harry."
"Well, I'm pleased to meet you," said Richard.
"I just want you to know, Richard, I'm here for the right reasons." The lion eyed Richard knowingly.
"I don't understand," said Richard. "Is there a special reason for us to have met/"
"Yes, indeed," answered the lion. "You will be able to count on my heart when you need it. Just think--you'll be a man with the heart of a lion. Sounds like a plan."
Richard nodded soberly. He didn't know what it felt like to have the heart of a lion, but it sounded like a good thing. He smiled at Harry. "I'm very glad to know you're here," Richard told him. "For some reason, I feel a bond with you."
The lion gave a reassuring roar. "You can count on me." The lion got up and ambled away. Richard was so moved by the encounter he was in a hurry to get back to the bunkhouse and reflect on what he'd learned. He decided to forego any more exploration of the preserve. But as he was walking back to the car, he noticed a flock of sheep in a meadow just off to the side of the stand of trees. And just inside the wooded area, looking hungrily at the sheep, was a wolf. All of a sudden the wolf disappeared. Richard breathed a sigh of relief.
At once excited and a bit unsettled, Richard drove back to the compound and returned the BMW to a grateful crew man.
The lion continued his stroll around the preserve, thinking what an admirable young man Richard was. He was perfect for the job. The lion just hoped that Beth wasn't planning to act too much like a witch, and that Emily didn't get too engrossed in her wardrobe. Sadly, Harry wasn't in control of everything.
41. Back at the bunk house, the men were getting restless. True enough, they got along quite well with one another, but they were a bit disoriented at having no real rose ceremonies while one guy after another would leave on a date with Emily, seemingly never to be heard from again. No one knew where he really stood. Only Bentley, and then Guy, had returned. Dodge had gone and come, but hadn't really spent alone time with Emily.
"I know what the problem is," ventured Jason.
"Oh, yeah?" The guys answered in unison, as if about to burst into song.
"Sure," Jason went on. "We have to go somewhere--you know, one of those places where you find romance. You've watched the show. If some resort in an exotic place calls up and says they'll give us free lodging, we can fall in love there. That's how it works."
"That's true," added Thad. "And there's something else. We haven't done any climbing or dangling or performing or fighting. We haven't dined on any rooftops. We haven't had any private concerts. You can't fall in love without those things, can you?"
"No! You can't It's written in the reality dating manual," they all shouted.
"We haven't conquered our fears," confided Owen.
"We haven't established trust," doubted Dodge.
"We haven't proven we can do anything together," speculated Ryan.
"We haven't made a connection," detached Guy.
"We haven't thought about what we could see ourselves doing," hesitated Richard.
"We haven't made out in a hot tub," chilled Bentley.
"Hey, it's not a total loss. We have Mary Ann," defended Gilles.
That was true. All the guys were half in love with Mary Ann already. She was so smart and witty, and she had a delightful, slightly bawdy (OK, a lot bawdy) sense of humor. She'd pretty much repaired their English, and she had that fun parlor game she played with the cue cards--a Bach hybrid of charades and pictionary.
"Mary Ann isn't the problem. The show's the problem. I vote we confront Chris with a list of non-negotiable demands, or threaten to walk out en masse," said Jason. "Who's with me?"
Everybody cheered. They exchanged fist pumps all around. Mary Ann brought out a tray of Margaritas. They clinked their glasses and shouted, "Boy power!"
42. Emily was getting dressed for her next evening cocktail party with the men. She chose a shimmering low cut fitted gold cocktail length dress. She selected her jewelry and accessories, also in gold--a single wide cuff bracelet with a lion visage etched into it, dangling earrings in the shape of slender obelisks, and a plain gold barrette to secure her pulled back hair. Excellent! Then, she winced just slightly as she replaced her sandals with a pair of onyx glass LowButtons. She guessed it wasn't so bad to sacrifice a little comfort--she knew she was stunning.
She stopped in front of the mirror. At first, she saw her clear reflection. Next, she saw the faces of all the men fading in and out one at a time. What was that? Bentley was not among them? That was strange--she'd enjoyed Bentley's company and was looking forward to spending some more time with him. Then the picture changed again. She saw a lion that quickly morphed into a sheep, then into a wolf. Something tugged at her memory--a conversation with Ferry Godmother about a strange name.
The picture changed yet again. Oh! There was Ferry Godmother smiling and waving at her. And what was that? Behind Ferry Godmother, barely visible, was what looked like a man in silhouette. The shape reminded her a bit of the man who'd been piloting the boat before Ferry Godmother made herself known. The next picture was even more mysterious. It didn't really have a shape at all, and Emily couldn't come up with a clue as to its meaning. Why, it looked like nothing so much as a cloud of dust or a puff of smoke!
The last picture Emily saw before she left the dressing room was Ricki, in her cute little red hooded cape.
43. While the rest of the guys were downing the margaritas and whooping it up at the thought of putting one over on Chris, Ryan took Gilles aside. "We need to talk."
"Sure," said Gilles. "Let's go in the kitchen."
Gilles turned on the water, opened some cabinet doors, and rattled some pots and pans in order that no one in the other room could hear their conversation. Ryan continued, "What's going on over in Never World? Have you gotten over there at all?"
"Not as much as I'd have liked," said Gilles. "My staff is doing a great job without me, but from what I've been able to see, everything looks in order."
"The wind farm's OK? The swaghouse is stocked? There's enough water? The helicopters are all accounted for." Ryan was clearly concerned.
"Check, check, check and check," Gilles reassured him. "It's just a matter of timing now."
Ryan nodded.
44. Several hundred miles away, a young man was busy packing his suitcase and checking that his flight reservation and tickets were in order. He'd known for almost three years now that he would be making this trip. He hadn't gone into this brave new world knowing he was destined for greatness but, having been chosen, he had learned to wear the mantle well and graciously. No question he had a sense of fun and adventure, but at his core he was a good, humble person, wanting to make a difference. This should be a defining moment.
A taxi's horn beeped outside. Our hero got into the car and steeled himself for the battle to come and the deeds he would be expected to perform. He felt up for the challenge. Millions--maybe tens of millions--were counting on him.
"Soy grande," he whispered to himself.
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