"The foundation of childhood, is the untainted and undisturbed gift of imagination and care-freedom." Chioma Onwudiwe
The office desk phone beeped and then continued to flash, in interval beats, until the woman picked it up. She gripped the handle with slightly worn, wrinkled, yet perfectly manicured hands. Holding the phone receiver close to her ears, she creased her face into an angry frown. When she answered, her voice was gruff and laden with irritation.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Port is on line 4 for you," came the executive assistants voice.
"Did you send him the latest magazine?" She inquired, as if hungry for a mishap from the younger woman.
"Yes ma'am, I did send one to him. He said he was calling to discuss it with you."
"I don’t know that I have time for that now," she grumbled more to herself. However, to the assistant, she clearly instructed; "Put him through."
She held on to the receiver, as she watched the console. Moments later, the alternate line began to buzz and flash. Cruia pressed the lit button and answered.
"Hello Peve," she began.
"Well hello there, or should I say wow?! You certainly outdid yourself this time."
"I did not do it…. Remember?"
"Yes, that’s right. You don't own the 'ring' you are just one of their most prominent and faithful clients." he began to laugh. "I must say, that this catalog, has raised the bar." He continued, not before he heard her sigh of denial.
Few could mess around and/or attempt to joke with Cruia, like he did. And that was simply, because he had not only bought a fair share of stake off her lap, but he was aware of most of her damaging entanglements. Having been in the mix for sometime, also helped. If he 'fell', a whole lot of ends, were sure to be loosened.
"So it seems," she responded nonchalantly. Still speaking about the eye-catching and glossy display. Meanwhile, she was perusing some sheets, that one of her accountants, had dropped off earlier.
Sensing her distraction and unwillingness to chat, he asked; "When is the next gathering?" He was anxious and desperately so.
"Mina will send you the coded details. Then you would have to call the secret number, enter your password, to access all the necessary information and instructions, that you will need."
There was what seemed like a prolonged silence, at this end. She on the other hand, did not seem to care.
The numbers on the financial report she was reading, seemed a more worthy and preferable occupation, at the moment.
"Will 'snake' be there?" He prodded, getting impatient himself. He never liked her. In fact, no one he knew did. However, most feared her. She was known for her cruelty and viciousness.
"Maybe or maybe not." She replied coolly to his question, still shuffling the sheets, that were showing the numbers that pleased her.
Sensing that he was waiting for more from her, she continued. "He is always there, in full participation. Whether you get to meet him or not, is entirely up to him. He shows himself, whenever he chooses to."
"I guess that’s why he is called 'snake,'" Pete supplied.
"I guess that's a part of it," she agreed in a very rare and uncanny disposition.
"I do want to meet with him this time. I happen to have some propositions that his power and contacts, might provide for. And of course, it will be lucrative for all"
"Again, like I said before. It isn't really my call." She explained, with feigned earnest. "Let him decide for himself."
"And your husband, will he be there?" The man inquired further.
"We don't disclose each others whereabouts or calendars, except it has been made public."
"Alright then," He said, in temporary resignation. "I will…."
A cell phone, suddenly began to chime from her end. He knew that she now had a solid reason, to end their call. But he was not quite done.
"I have an eleven (11) million dollar check, for that project of yours".
"You do?" He had spoken quick enough, as she was getting ready to hang up the phone, without permission. She often did things like that, going in and out of strange and unexplained rude and disruptive episodes.
"Yes I do," was his confident answer. "We can make it a lunch meeting. It has to be tomorrow though, because I prefer it to be before the 'gathering'."
"Alright then," she agreed. Never one to pass up a potential financial windfall. "It seems…. Hold on one second." She asked as he heard her chatting with whoever had called.
"I have to go now," she announced a few minutes later. "My two grand kids are visiting, it was not planned. But they are always welcome and I always look forward, to babysitting them whenever possible. "
"Very well then," agreed the man. "I will just have my Secretary, call your office and make the necessary arrangements."
"Sure," she agreed. Hurriedly and simultaneously, hanging up the phone. He replaced his own phone receiver and turned immediately, to the alluring and beckoning pages, on his polished desk.
It was made to look like a fashion magazine, but it was hardly one. The special care and caliber of printing details used, was evident of the painstaking work, that was put into it. The 'sweet subjects', appeared larger than life, though they were hardly. The eyes were often innocent in the beginning and curiously trusting. Now they were vacant and lifeless. Heck, he could just as well, bought himself a bunch of dolls. He preferred the innocence and trust, it was empowering and motivating. It also appeared, that the age bar was being lowered and that was a bit of a compensation. He was pleased and comforted.
His chauffeur driver almost had a hard time, finding a drop off spot. But eventually he did and Peve Port, slipped into the building. The restaurant she chose, was of course top class. Very prominent, yet able to provide fine dinning, privacy and protection for its clientele. "We will have to make it quick," she had informed him over the phone. "A lot of things have come up and I am feeling kind of stressed." He was always amused at her ability, to take on things of which she could barely handle the half. "Would you like for us to reschedule?" He offered halfheartedly. Knowing that if she did, the current bets would be off.
Nevertheless, there they were in her private booth. He would quickly drop off the check and expect her 'kind' retaliation, sometime in the near future. The connections he desired, were mostly hers. He checked his wrist watch, for the umpteenth time. While she garbled, on one phone call after the other. Her two grand kids, who had accompanied her. Were now busy with their colorful, but kid friendly meal. He took a swig of his liquor and then tried, to catch her attention again.
She was screaming at someone on the phone. Simultaneously shoving the dishes in front of her, to the side. After moments of yelling, she then threw the phone on the ground. Smashing it into two bits, as she began to froth in the mouth. Now In a fitful rage, she snapped her head backward and passed out.
Cruia opened her eyes, to an opulent but strange environment. Scrambling up, she looked down at her clothes. Everything seemed fine, as she tried to remember what had happened. Then she did, just as Pete Port walked into the room. "Where is this? What happened?" She shot almost immediately. "Oh, this is just one of my places, that was close to the restaurant. It is safe and well equipped…." "My grand kids? My grand kids?! Where are my grand kids?!! How long have I been here" She was going ballistic.
"Wow, you need to calm down now, before we have another episode." He said with a grin, apparently unmoved by her panic. "Your grand kids are in the bedroom, relaxing and watching television." "In the bedroom?" Her eyes flashed in anger, momentarily going dark. "You did not…." She glared at him, moving towards him furiously and making a grab for his arm. He stepped back and away from her, immediately. "Yes Cruia I did. Isn't this who we are? Isn't this what we do? Why are you acting this way?!!"
