Chapter 3

The office was crowded with happy people celebrating Thanksgiving, even though it was the day before the national holiday. The tables were filled with turkey-shaped carrot cakes, pumpkin pies, and soft drinks. There was no alcohol for this crowd, too many of them had problems with it.

Silvia moved comfortably through the crowd of people, smiling and talking to people as they ate. This was a little party that Silvia had thrown for the people that worked under her. After three years at the Fusion Foundation while taking management courses four nights a week, she had been promoted to a supervisor. That she had been promoted had amazed her, but the work came naturally. She guessed that years of dealing with troublesome johns had hardened her to excuses, but her livelihood as a whore kept her from being judgmental.

She stopped by the table with food and dipped a celery stick in a bowl of dip before munching on it. Her former officemate rolled in the room followed by her grinning husband. Based on his grin, there was no doubt that they had been having a little fun in the elevator. Shaking her head at their antics, Silvia waved and walked over to her friends greeting them.

“I’m so glad that you could make it.”

Carla smiled as she looked around at all the people in the room, recognizing most of them. Since she had transferred out of the office, she didn’t get a chance to see these people that often.

She replied, “I wouldn’t miss your first party for the world.”

Winking at her, Jim teased, “This sex-crazed hussy figured it would be easier to leave early from here for a quickie than to go from our office.”

Silvia laughed at the joke, knowing that was probably true. They were the most sexually active couple that she had ever encountered. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she said, “I’d borrow you some day, but I know that she keeps you worn out.”

The giggle that arose from Carla was contagious. It pleased her to know that Silvia understood her drives and didn’t think less of her. There were times when she wanted to sit back and roar, “I’m a sexually active lady!” Of course, that wasn’t something that one could do at a party.

As Silvia laughed with her young friend, Tim spun around his wheelchair looking at the people gathered in the room. There were a few new faces in the crowd and some old ones were gone. That was normal in the Fusion Foundation. Most people joined the organization to recover from a failure and then would move on to bigger and better things. A very few people, like Silvia, Carla, and himself, found the Fusion Foundation to be home.

Silvia’s assistant came over looking rather uneasy. Licking his lips, he said, “Ms. Black, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have a visitor in your office.”

The serious look on his face conveyed a sense of concern, as if something was wrong. She frowned, knowing that he had a tendency to exaggerate situations.

She replied, “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

He nodded as he backed away. Pausing, to see if she was leaving and finding that she wasn’t, he prompted, “I think he’s a pretty important person.”

Silvia wondered about his characterization of the visitor as an important person. The only important person that came to this area was her supervisor.

Keep bugging her, then.

She said, “I guess I had better check it out. I’ll be right back.”

Jim, looking over at Carla, joked, “I’ll see how long I can keep her here before she is overwhelmed by her urges.”

Silvia left the room as Carla answered, “Now. I need you now.”

She hoped that it wouldn’t take long to deal with whatever problem had come up. Carla and Tim were in rare form today. With brisk steps, she walked down the hall towards her office while wondering about the identity of the unexpected visitor. She didn’t need to enter her office to know who it was. The simple song coming down the hallway told her everything that she needed to know.

Excited, she ran down the hall as she screamed, “Harry!”

Harry turned and, with a large smile, said, “Ah, it’s my dark beauty. You’re looking better than ever.”

Unable to resist the urge, Silvia rushed over to him and hugged him as though her life depended on it. His return hug was warm and friendly bringing tears of happiness to her eyes. It was hard to believe that the last time she had seen him was when he had taken her to the hospital three years ago.

It was so good to see him, particularly on this day. She said, “I’m having my first party as a supervisor today. You have to come in and enjoy the food.”

“I will, but first a little business,” replied Happy Harry with an apologetic gesture. “I need a favor.”

“Anything you want. What do you need, Harry?” It amazed and pleased her that she was in a position to help him. She would give her life to help him if that was necessary. The past few years had been the best of her life and she owed it all to him.

“I have a young woman that was hurt and needs a place to heal for a while. I was wondering if she could work here with you,” said Harry.

“You got it,” replied Silvia ready to drop everything to help him. “Is she here?”

“She’s in the hospital up in St. Louis for another week. She is in pretty bad shape, but she’s getting better. I’ll send her here to Atlanta when they release her,” he answered. It was clear to her that the woman was not in good shape from the way he spoke about it. With a worried look on his face, he explained the situation. “She was thrown out of a car and run over. She had major damage to her hips and legs.”

She felt terrible. The mention of her hometown brought back memories of her former occupation and its aftermath. Those memories had not haunted her in ages and had no power over her now. The horrible thing that had happened to the woman bothered her.

She asked, “What’s her name?”

“Crystal,” answered Harry.

As with a lot of women that worked on the street, she didn’t use a last name.

Silvia wondered if it was the Crystal that she knew, but didn’t pursue the question. There were a lot of girls that went by the name of Crystal and only a few of them were whores. Even if she knew this particular girl, it didn’t matter. After all, who was she to look down on anyone? She had never allowed herself such pretensions.

She wrote a note on her desk to remind her to set up a room, make arrangements for a nurses aides, and an interview to see what kind of job would be good for her. She’d have to check her budgets to make sure that she didn’t go overboard. She said, “I’ll have a room set aside for her and start her training when she’s ready.”

“I knew I could count on you,” replied Harry sounding very relieved. Clapping his hands, he said, “You mentioned something about a party.”

She grinned and answered, “Yes I did. Come on, Harry.”

Wrapping her arm through his, she led him out of her office and towards the room where the party was being held. A huge smile of pleasure was plastered on her face as she walked beside the Druid. He patted her hand and, with a sly voice, said, “You make an old man very happy.”

“Why?” Silvia asked surprised by his statement and reference to himself as an old man. She knew a lot of men half his age that were twice as old.

“How many homeless Hobos my age can get such a beautiful woman to walk around on his arm?” He tried to look lecherous without much success.

He was just too cute to consider a lecher and the idea caused her to laugh at him. She started to sing, “We’re off to see the Wizard...”

By the time they reached the door to the party, they were dancing as they both sang the song. It was a hard act to maintain since she kept breaking up in laughter.

Harry asked, “So which one am I? The tin man, the cowardly lion, or the scarecrow?”

“None of them. You’re heart is huge, you are brave, and you’re the wisest man alive. That’s just my traveling song,” she answered.

She remembered the day long ago when she picked it out for that purpose. She had sung that song through the entire movie and for days afterwards, amazed that she had never heard it before.

“It’s a good one. Adds a little bounce to the step,” he replied with a smile.

“We’re here,” she said hardly able to wait for them to enter the room. She wanted to see Carla’s reaction to his presence.

“Give me a minute to get dignified. After all, I am a Druid,” said Harry as he pretended to straighten a tie. She laughed as he lifted a foot and rubbed the top of the shoe against the back of his robe to polish it.

When he started brushing his teeth with his finger, she couldn’t help herself and cried, “You’re killing me.”

Harry entered the room walking beside Silvia in a manner slightly reminiscent of Laurel of Laurel and Hardy fame. Looking around, he noticed Carla and Tim over by the food. A huge grin crossed his face as he recognized the woman in the wheelchair and saw how she was feeding Tim a bite of pie. That was love if he had ever seen it.

Holding his staff up in the air, he approached them. Before Carla had a chance to see him, he stepped forward and bowed. Tim looked puzzled at the odd man in front of him. The unexpected action attracted the attention of everyone in the room except for Carla. In a voice that carried across the room, he said, “Lords and Ladies. I, Happy Harry, have come far to present myself to the King and Queen of the Ball! Long live the King. Long live the Queen.”

Carla, with practiced ease, spun her wheelchair around in place and stared at Harry for a half a second. Everyone else in the room, with the exception of Silvia, tensed up expecting a scene. A huge smile crossed her face and her arms flew out to reach for him.

She screamed, “Harry!”

Straightening up, Harry stepped over to her and swept her into a hug. The wheelchair made it awkward, but neither one seemed to mind. Seeing the happy reaction of Carla, everyone realized that it was an old friend greeting an old friend. The tension in the room dissipated as she grabbed his hands and kissed them in her excitement.

Tim was staring at Harry with a funny look on his face, as though he didn’t know how to react. When Carla finally let go of his hand, Tim rolled forward and grabbed Harry’s hand with both of his.

In a tone of admiration, he said, “Thank God I finally got a chance to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Surprised by the reception, Harry replied, “I did nothing.”

“Nothing? You did everything,” asserted Tim.

The day that Harry had visited Carla had awakened the woman within her. He was the lucky beneficiary of that awakening. She had come to him right after talking to Harry and declared that it was possible for people in wheelchairs to make love. After years of being ignored as something not quite a man, her declaration had awakened his urges.

He looked down and said, “You gave us both life.”

“I think that you discovered that yourselves, I was just an excuse,” replied Harry looking down at the man in the wheelchair with a modest smile. Preferring not to look down on people, he dropped down and sat tailor fashion on the floor. Laying his staff on the ground beside him, he noticed their ring fingers and said, “I take it you are married.”

“Yes, we are,” cooed Carla as she grabbed her husband’s hand. She asked, “How about you?”

Harry held his arms out to his sides in a gesture of surrender as he said, “Happy Harry is a rolling stone. He dillies here and dallies there, then goes merrily on his way leaving behind a happy woman.”

Silvia listened to the exchange wishing that he would want to dilly or even dally with her. The past few years of being around Carla and Tim had re-awaked desires within her that she thought were non-existent. It was amazing how much pleasure those two got from each other.

Carla frowned and said, “That sounds lonely.”

“Lonely? Nay! I love all women too much to select one and all women are too smart to roam the world with me.”

As much as Silvia loved him, she knew that what he had said was true. Loving Harry was like watching a rainbow. You had to enjoy it while it lasted and cherish the memory for the rest of your life. She could accept that and knew that a lot of women would accept it as well.

“What about making love?” asked Carla thinking that his lifestyle prevented him from doing that.

“If that is an offer, I’ll have to talk to Tim before I say yes,” answered Harry with a grin at her and a wink at Tim. He rubbed his hands together as if excited about the possibility.

Carla blushed as she realized how what she had asked could be interpreted. Her embarrassment was made worse when Tim quipped, “Please! I need the rest. She’s relentless. She’s an animal. She’s insatiable.”

She hit Tim on the shoulder as she said, “Speaking of which, you should be well rested by now.”

Tim gave forth a fake groan as Harry laughed at her comment. Leaning over to Tim, the Druid whispered, “The Gods and Goddesses love randy women. You’re a lucky man to have found one so blessed.”

“I know,” replied Tim with a grin. He looked over at Carla and saw that she was making eyes at him. Expecting her to want to visit with Harry, he asked, “You ready to go?”

“You know it, Studley,” she answered with a smile. Looking over at Harry, she said, “It’s so good to see you again, Harry. You really have no idea what you did for me. I’d really like to thank you properly, but here and now is not the time. Since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, could you come over for dinner?”

“I’m sorry, but I have twenty turkeys to cook tonight and deliver tomorrow,” replied Harry as he stood to let them leave. He held his staff and leaned against it as he added, “I hope you understand.”

“Of course,” answered Carla, not knowing much more about Harry than her single experience with him.

“Where are you delivering the turkeys?” Silvia was curious to know. If he had just come down from St. Louis, then it was possible he expected to go back there that night.

“Here in Atlanta,” replied Harry.

“Can I help cook them?” asked Silvia not wanting her time with Harry to end. Perhaps while the turkeys were cooking, she could talk with him a little and try to thank him in a more intimate manner.

The hungry look in her eyes told Harry everything he needed to know about her motives. Harry smiled as a perfectly devious idea came to him. The smile, looking much more lecherous than the pitiful attempt earlier, sent a little twinge of hope through her spirit.

With a half-bow, he said, “Sure. Come over to the Mess Hall around nine tonight.”

Silvia entered the Mess Hall at nine sharp, not wanting to look too willing by showing up early or, just as bad, appear uninterested by being late. The room was large enough to hold five hundred people. Displacing the darkness was a small area of light showing through the doors from the kitchen. The light reflected off the clean floors, tabletops, and the metal parts of the chairs. The reflections allowed one to walk through the room without running into chairs or tables, but left plenty of dark corners. Although noises filtered from the kitchen, the emptiness of the room gave it an echo that fed her nervousness.

Taking a breath, she walked across the room towards the door with slow measured steps. Her nervousness was not entirely imposed by the room, but by her fears for the evening as a whole. It had taken her almost an hour to pick out an outfit that she thought Harry might like. She wanted something that looked nice, but wasn’t overdressed for cooking. She had settled on a simple dress that was tight in the right places, but not binding, and a pair of flat shoes.

The scrape of a chair leg against the floor startled her. Her eyes sought out the source of the noise in the dark corners of the room. For a moment, she thought a ghost had floated out of a dark spot and her heart raced as a result. A weird elongated white figure appeared to rise from the floor to float in the air. She almost screamed until she realized that it was a black man dressed in a white Chef’s outfit.

Recovering her senses, she called out, “Where’s Harry?”

“The bum’s not here.”

The reply had two effects on her. It bothered her that the man referred to Harry as a bum. The deep voice, reminiscent of a Barry White, took her breath away.

Sounding more aggressive and threatening than intended, she answered, “Don’t call Harry a bum.”

“Hmm, you must be Silvia. He said you would come to help cook,” replied the voice.

She couldn’t see his features because of the dark and the distance, but she could see that he was about four inches taller than she was. His tailored uniform showed off his broad shoulders and narrow stomach. All of that paled beside his incredible voice.

She walked towards him to see better his features as she answered, “Yes, I’m Silvia. Who are you?”

“Cook,” answered the man. He looked her over in the dim light of the room as she approached. She walked with a stride that indicated real self-confidence.

“I see you’re a cook. What’s your name?”

“Cook. I am what I do,” replied the man.

His deep resonant voice had taken on a harder edge to it.

“Oh,” replied Silvia.

She wondered what the story was behind this guy. She was close enough to make out his features. He had a broad open face with an immaculately trimmed Goatee. The tall Chef’s hat covered his hair. All in all, he was too perfect. She knew there had to be something wrong with him.

“You don’t look like you came to cook,” commented Cook as he looked over her. In his opinion, she was the most attractive woman that had come to the kitchen in ages. Her upright posture spoke of a positive self-image. She looked too good to be true. There had to be something wrong with her to be there.

Although his statement was close to the truth, she denied it by saying, “I came here to cook.”

“Looks to me like you came trolling for a man,” commented the Chef. More than one woman had come through the kitchen with that idea in mind. Usually he was the target of their affections. As he turned towards the kitchen, he said, “I’m not interested.”