[mvisconte]

1) this was meant to be a 20 minute exercise. I started appx 8:30. It's not 3:00. I think I failed.

2) no spell checking (gave it up for Lent). No proof-reading. No checking plot curly-ques. If something doesn't look logical, it's because I'm tired.

3) my eyes are tired, my body is tired, I've got to get up in abt 4 hours. did I mention tired? But I've got to get this out before I a) forget or b) I get pierced.

___________________________


I was in a bar in Naples, in the summer. Listless. Seriously, I lost my list. The list of people who owed me money, or favors, or both. I'm not forgetful, but it was a big list. It wasn't the names so much as the contact information.

It was hot, I was sweaty -- or maybe I was hot and it was sweaty. I watched as beads of condensation inch their way down my Sicilian Iced Tea.

Never trust a Sicilian when life is on the line.

The bar was small, dark, dusty, humid. The front door was propped open, but precious little breeze came through. The bartender was dozing between scratching at what appeared to be something burrowing into his skin. I didn't ask.

The dark interior suddenly darkened further. I listlessly turned my head towards the door. There was a glowing figure blocking the little light entering. Not glowing so much as having the bright outside light reflecting off of a white mass. A woman stepped slowly in, looked right and left at the tables. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, I started to adjust to the shape. Something familiar.

A few patrons looked up -- most even lazier than the barkeep went back to dozing or staring at their drinks. A couple called out invitations, which she ignored, looking beyond the next set of chairs. One man said something incredibly rude, even for a dirtbar, in Naples. All of the patrons looked up in an electric tension -- ready for a fight or a laugh. Even the bartender came fully awake.

The woman spun her head to look right at the man. The temperature in the bar unexpectedly went down. Even in the dark, her eyes found his. It was not a look of love. She affixed him with her stare. She pierced him with her stare. She might as well have stabbed him with a stilletto. A steel stilletto. She affixed him with her steely, piercing stare. The man sudden was breathing very fast. In the dimness, I could see him tremble. He wanted to look away. He HAD to look away, but she kept him affixed. He was squirming now. A mewling was coming from somewhere, almost like the sound of a scared child. This looked familiar. If it weren't for the other fellow being target, it FELT familiar. Suddenly, the lights went on in my mind. "BARONNESS!"

She didn't take her eyes off of him, just turned her face slightly in my direction. The man was close to hyperventilating. I could hear his breath choking in his throat. He finally tore his eyes away, casting them wildly about the room for anything else to fix upon. No one else would look at him. Back and forth, from patron to patron, some friends, some enemies. He would settle for anyone... a lifeline. He looked at me. I was looking back and forth between the baronness and the insect, skewered against the wall. Our eyes met for an instant and he let out a sob and then a groan. The spell was broken -- he looked down and lept from his chair, bolting for the door. He ran out, not looking back, and we could hear a nervous, almost hysterical laugh receeding as he ran.

She approached me.

"I haven't seen you in... forever! How are you? Would you like something to drink?"

She looked around and at the bartender and said in her musical voice, "No bloddy likely -- not in here!" She could smile without warmth. She turned to look me in the eyes. I flinched internally instinctively, but her eyes were warm and her smile was genuine.

"I've been looking for you. How would you like to accompany me... " I was already nodding -- she ignored it "on an... adventure. There could be something in it for you."

I don't know what it could be, but I was already in favor regardless -- I had high hopes it involved anatomy lessons.

Then I thought of the last times I HAD seen her. I offered to take her on a leisurely vacation and once asked her to help me with a project that would have netted us a LOT of shiney a-jingle coins. Gold, actually. She declined each time.

"How come you never go with me when *I* suggest an adventure?"

"Because I am the woman, and alway get to ask and the man has to accept. You ask, and I refuse. It's in the manual." I would have to find that manual. I am sure I could find a loophole in there somewhere.

----

I had come to Naples on foot, shamefully. I had lost the dirigible in an attempt to escape spending some time in the local gendarm's hospitality. I had heard bad thing about the accomdations and didn't really want to have an extended stay. The local magistrate had fancied himself a man of the world, or a man of the air, or a man of the ladies -- I don't know which.

It had been a fair cop, I had been drunk. And disorderly. And in public, if you can call relieving one's self into a potted plant on the mayor's wife's terrace. She was quite broken up over it -- she was quite fond of the plant, more so than her husband I think. Anyway, she called him, he called his brother-in-law, and held me at gun point until the gendarme (a nephew, I think -- they all look the same) showed up. If you can call it a gun -- I've seen 200 year old plumbing in better condition. And, if you can call it being held at gun point. To tell the truth, I didn't really notice him until afterwards. When I was relieved, I sat down on a small couch, and turned to regard my world and smiled a beneficent, in-love-with-the-world smile, and slumped back into the cushion. I think I waved at him. I evidently snored, or so I was told in court. The mayor's wife was shocked, horrified, insulted, and probably a dozen other emotions as relayed by the magistrate. So shocked it seems that she didn't even bother coming to court, so I only had his word for it. As he had the power to make time very uncomfortable for me, I didn't question his veracity.

The story came out in court (such as it was... an old room, an old desk, an old judge, and an over-the-hill brother in law keeping his eagle eye on me). Most of it was new to me -- I only remember sour wine, pressure, cool air, relief, some man who kept pointing a broom handle at me and yelling at his wife to shut up. And sleep. I had evidently crashed a party -- the mayor's wife's party. I was probably pretty sloppy at that point, having stopped in several places to celebrate a small coup at cards. My pockets were once more a-jingle (oh how I love that sound) and I had a drink. And another, and, and ... and the rest of the evening was pretty much a non-event in my mind. It seems that I not only crashed a party, I had hit on every woman there -- starting with the mayor's wife, which might explain her shocked embarrassment (that I then went from woman to woman...). I think I bet a judge I could drink a whole bottle of something... I don't know what, but from the mayor's testimony, it must have been expensive and messy. I was told that I started talking with one of the wives and noticed a tray of canapes in mid-sentance (mid-proposition according to witnesses). I turned and launched myself at the canapes and wound up insulting the second woman in less that an hour. I was stuffing mini sandwiches into my mouth with both hands they say. I don't think I'd eaten anything before my celebratory foray into the taverns, and it must have caught up with me. I am sure I wasn't a pretty sight at that point, drunk, unkempt I'm sure, and gorging myself. But, in mid stuff, my drinking caught up with me and I evidently launched half a sandwich and most of what was in the expensive bottle down the back of a another lady, seated at a table.

SHE at least had the cohones (can I say that?) to show up in court and swear at me. At snooty as she looked, you wouldn't think she was a sailor, but I know those words, and I know what kind of person says them.

I think I fell asleep at that point, because I do remember someone pushing me off a table or maybe just off of the platter on the table.

More yelling from witnesses, more rather rude accusations regarding my lineage, and more threats of bodiliy violence. I usually only get that from men. So the all told was, it must have been fun for me, because I didn't remember any of it, and it definately wasn't fun for anyone else, and they hade VERY good memories.

I did the gentlemanly thing (after ascertaining that all exits were either blocked or two-floors higher than I had ever launch myself through) -- I offered to pay. Everybody. Everything. Happily. Oh, if you would only have seen the greasy smiles then. A dentist would clean up in that city -- literally. A smug-looking judge then, over-calculating the amounts that every one was yelling at him, adding yet another measure in for his nephew. What, did they not have simple math in that backwater? Somebody was doing integrals and derivitives. I was thinking I would be lucky if they didn't take teeth at that point. I think the judge carried some extra ones where naughts should have been, and he pronounced an amount that would allow the whole town and everybody in the graveyard to build and move into condos. I think I must have looked worried at that point because Ms Snooty Sailor wife went from licking her lips at the thought of my demise to counting chickens to panic that were would be enough to go around. HAH! They were afraid I wouldn't have enough to pay everybody off! At that point, everyone quite looking at me and started arguing amongst themselves over who really should get what.

I have to give him credit. The judge was a smarter man than I had thought. He whispered something to his neph...er, the gendarme, and they both walked over to where I was sitting. The judge pointed out that the financial negotiations would probably go on for some time, and there was little need for ME to be there and that if I wanted to get the process started, he'd be more than happy to take payment and distribute it later. I think I got the picture. The judge winked at the nephew who sneared at me and un-cuffed me from the chair. Being handcuffed to a man, even an old man, has never been a fantasy of mine. My chances of running down three flights of stairs while carrying a frail old man wheren't good on the surface. When he produced a small revolver, the chances hit the negatives and I figured I would wait and see what else fate had up her sleeves. I much prefer it when she's sleeveless. And wrapped in a towel, I think.

The other members started to panic when they saw me being escourted out, but the judge told them that I was just being returned to my cell to await any final totals. This seemed to placate them somewhat as they turned back to yelling at each other again.

The gendarme was smiling the smile of a person in a position who can punish without recriminations. The judge was escorting the gendarme smiling a greedy "I don't really have to share" smile. I was smiling because I was scared that I might now make it back.

"So, if you'll just hand over this amount, I shall releive you of the burdon of facing those angry villiagers, eh? I can take care of all the money by myself." The Gendarme looked at the judge suspiciously and the judge continued "and Nuole can help me. No sense us dragging your embarrassment on. Pay us and you can go rest in your cell for a long time."

That was what I was afraid of.

"OK, copper! Ya got me!" Blank looks at me. "'ere naow, it were ah fair cop! It's tokay, I'm sugar not smoke." Blanks looks at each other. "Tanow! Wert no fiss, hall haver ight over affer me diddies." Not so blank look at the gun. "Coo! Gimmee me a clean Uncle, a Peckham Rye, clean Tony n Whickers, Oy for a Faulty for a quick lemon, I'm whiff.
Lemmee cloude me barnet
Get a quick Mexican Wave the barnet off me chevy. Then we can get the divy."

The judge spoke first. Not to me. "Did you undertand that?" To me, "I thought you spoke English!?" No duh... we'd spent over an hour arguing back and forth in my impeccible english and their whatever-passes-for-communications. "Yes, I speak Engrish. How about you?" The judge scowled and barked "well what did you say?"

"I give. No hard feelings. I won't hold a grudge. We can get this over with without any difficulties. I'll have it all straighted out after I get presentable. I need a clean shirt, a tie, some good pants, and new underwear. I need a quick shower, comb my hair, and shave. Then can split the money up..."

"No, that's alright... you can just give us the money, we'll split it."

Well, there went that ploy... "One for the Judge, one for the cop, one for me. Two for the Jedge, two for the cop, one-two for me..."

"And you don't need clothes or a shower... where you're going, it's not so formal. I hardly think you're new compatriots will care."

OK. Better to get this over with and plot more in peace.

"Give us the money you won."

"Gladly, take me to the property locker and I'll get it."

"Give it to us now."

"Gladly. Take. me. to. the prop-"

"No locker! I'm losing my patience!"

"But the money is IN the locker. You took it from me when you booked me! You did BOOK me, didn't you?"

"You had nothing on you when you were brought in."

THIS is not going well.

"Ah, well. I can get it. I probably put it aside. Let's go outside and we'll look for it."

"I don't think so, seniour. You can tell us and we'll get it."

"You wouldn't be able to find it. I don't remember how to get there, but I can TAKE you there."

"You will remember in your cell."

It wasn't this hard in the movies.

"Until you can satisfy the charges against you, you will not leave our gaol."

"But I have nothing on me!"

"Then you will be with us for a long while monsieur."

I was sullen. For days. For four days. On the fifth day, during the three-coarse gruel, I asked the slop trustee to speak to the jailor. After a day, the jailor came to visit, in not a good mood. Evidently he had heard that everyone outside was being cheated out of fantastic fortunes and he felt left out. I asked him to get me an interview with the magistrate. He laughed and asked me what I had to give him. The common man, so plain and straightforward. It's refreshing. I told him that I had nothing left and he laughed. He laughed and left.

I asked slop for another audiance and the jailor came to laugh at me some more. "I have these shoes! And my pants and this shirt. This belt is leather!" His was coarse twine. "Give them to me." "Not without an interview with the magistrate." He yelled out, "HORRACE! COME TAKE THIS MAN'S CLOTHES FROM HIM, HE PROMISED THEM TO ME!" From a corridor away, "HORRACE" complained as to why should HE do the work and not get anything for his trouble? "He won't have any clothes left to give then." the jailor paused significantly. Horrace responded with a rumble -- not quite a roar, not a laugh, not a groan, not a sigh, but peculiar mixture of them all. I didn't like the sound.

"I have what the magistrate wants. He knows I will send for him. If he doesn't get what he's expecting, then he will wonder why. And when he finds out, he will be angry. I don't know what he would do if he were angry with you... but I'm betting that Horrace would be on the outside of the cell."

The jailor didn't look happy. He left cursing my lineage. Why does everybody question my lineage? Do I not look Italian? Besides, cross-species mating never works out... I'm 100% human.

The judge came back in just a few hours this time. I don't know if it took the jailor that long to find him, or if the judge thought he was making me suffer. He would have been right.

"Did you remember where your money is?" Judges can sneer fairly effectively. I noticed that he didn't have nephew with him this time. How dishonest can an agent of the law be? "No judge, I think that was probably gone before I got to the party -- unless one of your guests lifted it when I was indisposed." The judge looked quite thoughtful. He was thinking of someone in particular. Hm...

"Judge. All I have left are the admitedly dirty clothes on my back and my dirigible."

"No, we have your dirigible." Damn, he can do logic to some small extent.

"But can you FLY it? It does you no good just hanging there. Is it sitting a little lower? Maybe tilting nose down?" The judge's brow creased more than usual. "You know, if it touches ground, it won't be worth much -- if anything." As he was not familiar with LTA craft. "Judge, you have what we call a diminishing value property. You need to use it -- it has no other value. I can train a crew of your choice in maintenance, airmanship, navigation, logistics, staging, aero communications, sky-docking, stay tension tuning, brant recovery... " I was making things up and watching his face. "I would train anyone you would like, it really only takes one person to handle it, but it will hold several. You could have a small crew and have the private bedroom and sitting room for yourself -- and your wife, of course. Women love the air. It does something to them..."

"Eh? What?"

"What? Well, let me see... how can I put it delicately... it ... the height, the air, it's... it frees their inhibitions. The sight, looking down over the land is very emotional and their feelings well up in side them. They get giddy sometimes, almost like drinking champaign. They get expressive. Sometimes the emotions overwhelm them and they ... bubble forth. You should have to be careful when up with your wife lest she... relax her guard, so to speak, in front of the crew."

"You said that one could handle it by himself."

"Yes. It's not hard. Your attention is on taking off, and landing, and other than that, you could spend all of your time in the lounge. Why, I spent 5 days in bed on one trip, coming across the barren wastes. There was little else to do, I had no wine or whiskey and no female companion..." The judges eyes grew suddenly very clear, focused. "If I had had a -- friend -- along, we might have passed the time most amicably. Eh, playing WHIST of course. If I had only stocked wine and whiskey and some meats and cheeses, and maybe some fruits and vegetables. There's a good kitchen there. You could set your course and go cook a nice meal for yourself and your companion -- I mean... your wife."

"Yes. My... wife." His eyes had lost some focus. I believe he was actually looking into the future. Time is really no impediment if you know how to see beyond the "now".

"Yes judge. In fact, you would easily have a small party and handle everything by yourself. You would have one or two friends. Or companions. If one of them cooks and the other will act as wine steward, it would be quite luxurious. Ha! You know, it just occurred to me that, if a man -- a young, un-married man of course, judge... I wouldn't suggest this to you, you're ... respectable. and older... " At the first he looked annoyed. At the second he winced and then resolved into looking bold and challenging.

"I'm not so old as you might think! Why, in my day, I knew plenty of compa-..."

"Yes, but you're respectable, judge, and I could not suggest that a man of your age and respectability take two women companions with him for a three or four week trip away from chaperones and polite company. It would cast aspersions as to the propriety of the trip. People would talk... they would think that... that ANYTHING could be happening on board."

"I know perfectly well what you think they would think. Just as you say, I am a RESPECTABLE man... they would think nothing of it if I took two young ladies of my prior aquaintence on an extended trip with me! I believe I know a niece who would be amicable. Why, I wou-"

Bait, hook, now to set the hook. "I'm sorry judge, I shouldn't have mentioned it. Of course you wouldn't be interested in learning the dig. It was a mistake on my behalf, please forgive me." And then I averted my head and looked to the side.

I expected another few hours, maybe a day or two, of being taunted and threated with an introduction to Horrace, but the judge surprised me. "I'll do it! You must show me! Show me how to fly the derrigibble! I will know!"

"Ah, yes... just as you say. It's just that, I am stuck, I am serviing time -- justly, I know -- I am to be here for a long time and it will be a while befor--"

"I will arrange for you to be moved to the surface. We will meet daily and you can explain it to me."

Reel in gently, constant pressure, don't jerk, let the fish come to you...

"Well, alright I guess, but I'll have to write fast to finish this aside and get back to a lower story branch..."

"Fine." said the judge, as visions of sugar plums danced in his head.

-- -- --

"Are you about through?"

"what?"

"Are you about through with your reminscing to set another tedious plot point? Because if you're not, we'll never get on with my part in the story. And you know you want to know about my part. And what parts of my part you take part in. and if any of your parts meet any of my parts. Right?"

I was at a loss for words. "... " "Uh, right."

"Well, I'll tell you... Not Bloody Likely! But there will be some jingly stuff for you later." I think I was wearing her down. Maybe there be some jiggly stuff for me later, too...

______________________

OK, I still have to effect my escape to Naples. then I've got to figure out what this hella confident woman has in mind. then I've got to find someway to exert some influence on her (I don't think money would work, right now I don't have any -- and 'cuz I don't have an official title). Then we've got to find our way to Algiers, and then on, in search...

Nite all.


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