The Skinny on Sarah
By Michael R. FarleyiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 Michael R. Farley
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4502-8285-7Contents
Introduction........................................................ixMom and Dad (Pandemonium and Chaos).................................1Bon Voyage..........................................................6Deliverance.........................................................11A Whole New World...................................................15It's Arrived........................................................17Interlude...........................................................28Pheneous Stephanopoulos and Brother Will Devine.....................30Blanch Kart.........................................................44Me People and the French Cousins....................................48Tobias Longstreet Culpepper.........................................65The Master Plan Comes Together......................................70Reunion and Retribution.............................................81Epilogue............................................................88
Chapter One
Mom and Dad (Pandemonium and Chaos)
The torrential rain and booming thunder claps on a cold February evening were foreboding. The earlier calm had bid adieu to blue skies, only to be supplanted by darkness and discontinuous lightning strikes. A Greek couple from Athens was expecting a package from that ubiquitous stork of legend. Little did they know that the ill wind that blew it in was an ominous harbinger of things to come. They were the thunder and lightning of this portentous endowment.
Not quite a year earlier, their lives had been in complete turmoil. Apparently, Dad, or Chaos (the first created being in Greek mythology), had been the obviously "domicile-challenged" village idiot. Citizens tired of his benign but recurrent naughtiness had tied him to and ridden him out of town on a donkey that they had appropriated. In much of the Western world, this would have been considered cruelty to animals, the four-legged one, anyway. Mom, or Pandemonium (a demon in Greek mythology), single and unappealing, nevertheless was imbued with a finely tuned business acumen. She learned how to pinch drachmas at an early age. She ran a thriving, although illegal, "chop shop" out of her own kitchen. Securing the proper sanitation credentials and a business license would have been an incommodious waste of time. Furthermore, it was not cost effective. Regrettably for her, she lived in the Jewish part of Athens. She had purposely moved there to get away from her strict Greek Orthodox family. Jewish congregants had made numerous complaints to their local rabbi. She was selling untaxed and discounted pork chops to wayward and voracious members of their faith. Not only was this cutting into their own pious businesses, it was not kosher.
This was not tolerable in the faith they engendered and the mandated dietary restrictions they at least overtly professed.
Seething at the loss of income to an irreverent outsider, an impromptu crowd was easily worked into a wild frenzy. Torches were lit and a mindless mob meandered through the winding back streets. Preceding the horde was the Doppler effect of doors and windows being shuttered. Sensing imminent danger and bodily harm, Pandemonium barely had time enough to dress, grab some cash on hand, and flee. As she escaped through a back door, members of the mob kicked in the front door. Save the kitchen, the whole house was ransacked. The accompanying rabbi walked into the kitchen, closed the door, and began chanting a purification prayer against the blasphemer. After a few minutes, all went silent. The crowd waited anxiously but reverently. After an hour, the rabbi told those present to open the kitchen door and come in. To their astonishment, he was holding a basting brush in one hand and a pork chop in the other. His salt-and-pepper beard and cooking apron were smeared with various sauces. He then looked at the bewildered throng and nonchalantly asked, "Have you tried the baby backs?"
As fate would have it, the admonished woman ran into the exiled idiot at the famous Alexander's Well in the foothills outside Athens. Legend has it that Alexander the Great would come there and rest on hot summer nights. Local businesses that catered to tourists validated the legend by posting a plaque on the well, proclaiming, "Alexander the Great ate, drank, and reveled here." Surely, this would whet any ignorant tourist's appetite. A lingering tourist was a paying tourist. The local economy depended on it. Fudging historical facts never hurt anyone. Besides, it could have happened!
The future mother of destiny's child, who had fled from the hostile crowd, caught a glimpse of the poor dimwit in the moonlight. She had been startled by his sporadic outbursts of near maniacal laughter. She put the obvious questions to the babbling man: "What are you laughing about, and why are you tied to that unfortunate animal?"
Nearly breathless and almost beside himself in ebullient bliss, he replied, "Those stupid neighbors of mine gave me a nice little donkey, a new rope, and a free ride out of town. The best part is it didn't cost me a single drachma!"
Pandemonium followed up with another question, to satisfy her curiosity: "Weren't you humiliated?"
Chaos chuckled, in glorious condescension. "Oh no; the last time, they made me catch it myself and pay for the rope too!"
Pandemonium tried to collect her thoughts about the events that had recently transpired. What to do? What to do? Perhaps this moron was an opportunity that the Fates had provided her to facilitate extraction from this present quandary. As she thought of her plight, she couldn't help but notice the sight of torches in the distance. It was akin to a spiraling, elongated snake, and it was headed in their direction. From the top of the hill, the port of Piraeus could easily be seen. This bustling harbor was the largest port in Greece. It was where foreign goods were imported and Greek products were shipped out. Perhaps she and this foolish man could team up, out of necessity, and make a run for one of the ships. Without giving it another thought, she whirled around, untied Chaos, and helped him down off the beast of burden. She then told him, "We're going on an expense-paid cruise and see the world!"
Someone down below in the angry mob yelled, "She's gone up to Alexander's Well!" He was downwind and had apparently caught the acrid scent of Pandemonium. Although she had acquired fame and fortune for her business shrewdness and delectable chops, there was a negative aspect. No man would court her due to an unfortunate and rare medical condition. Apparently, she was gifted with the propensity to be intermittently flatulent. The ensuing aroma was overpowering enough to make grown men wince. As a child, she learned to use this gift as a tool of retribution and extortion against her parents. Her concerned mother had always told her that one day, she would have to ensnare a suitable man for marriage. To do this, she would need to learn how to make Greek coffee. She eventually followed her mother's advice. But alas, her gift was too much power to relinquish. Up until she encountered the unfortunate man, the possibility of nuptials in her future seemed implausible.
The expeditious flight down the hill to a seeming refuge was fraught with anxiety for Chaos and Pandemonium. It was like something out of an abstruse novel. The streets of Piraeus were dimly lit. The two stealthy figures used cover and concealment to make their way to the docks. Even at this time of night, there was an abundance of movement of men and machinery. Without a doubt, Pandemonium was the intellectual of the nascent partnership of convenience. Chaos was vocally embittered at the loss of a new rope and his donkey. Subsequently, Pandemonium assured him that given the choices of fight or flight, they had made the wiser selection of flight. Perceiving his newly manifested brilliance, Chaos acquiesced to the placation.
Given their now infamous notoriety, they would have to somehow stow away onto one of the freighters and probably leave Greece behind them forever. Pandemonium brainstormed and came up with a very clever plan of action. As her eyes scanned the immediate area, she found what she needed to implement her scheme. A stevedore had taken off his hard hat to go on break. In a few nimble moves, she snatched the hard hat and then cold-cocked Chaos. The dupe never knew what hit him.
Now came the dicey part. Pandemonium placed the hard hat on her head, stuffing her hair under it. She then picked up a malleable Chaos and tossed him over her shoulder. Up the gangplank of the Minerva, a nearby anchored freighter, she went. As she got to the top, the portside watchman, amidship, started to speak. She beat him to it, saying, "Tell the good captain we got us a new recruit!" They both laughed at "the catch of the day." Good merchant seamen were few and far between. Unfortunately, some captains had less than stellar character or very little left to compromise and still employed unofficial press gangs. After being waved aboard by the still chuckling watchman, she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. He did not see the smirk on her face in the darkness. She (they) had pulled it off.
Bon Voyage
The two stowaways made it safely to the lower holds of the ship. Pandemonium lowered Chaos onto the decking and scanned the surroundings. She had to draw on every skill she had finely honed over the years. Chaos started regaining consciousness. He blurrily looked up at Pandemonium and asked, "Why did you hit me?"
Thinking fast, she answered, "You had a disease-carrying mosquito on your chin, and I had to save your life by punching it before you got infected!"
Now somewhat clearheaded, he grasped his chin in one hand and furrowed his brow. It was easy to read his facial and body language, as it evolved. His eyes welled up with tears. "You saved my life. What can I ever do to repay you?"
It was all she could do to contain her laughter. She was so clever, and this guy was dumber than she had first thought. If she ever had to conjure up a man, she now had a readily available candidate. He thanked her profusely. She enjoyed the moment and was again consumed in the ingenuity of her wit.
The Minerva had pressed hard, cold steel to ocean waters for many years. Once the pride of the fleet, she was now showing signs of maturity. The better merchant mariners had already served their on-board apprenticeships and had moved on to better or newer sister ships. Her cargo holds were filled with domestic products headed to the marketplaces of the world. The diesel engines were fired, the anchor was hoisted, and the fore and aft lines were released. Tugboats gingerly nudged the bow and port side for egress. With one last shove and the all-clear from the harbor pilot, the screw rotated incrementally faster for yet another journey. The frothy waves of the ocean blue would again be plowed and hewn. The ship's complement would again cultivate a camaraderie known to those who manned and maneuvered the vessels of the sea. Each journey was unique, depending upon the quirks, circumstances, and variable personalities contained therein.
The city lights of Piraeus and the lubbers who dwelled there slowly disappeared into the night. The journeymen had their sea legs back. Some young mates would soon be purging their stomachs of their contents. This was not work for momma's boys or the weak and faint of heart. Some on the second watch who slept still had fond memories of abundant wine, the wild women, and good times. The entrenched habits of a small but hardened cadre never changed. Only the faces, ports, and other venues did. With all souls on board, the Minerva cleared the last harbor buoy. The captain's firm voice bellowed out to the helmsman, "Steady as she goes!"
The ship's cargo was a mélange of Greek wine, olives, dried mackerel, canned sardines, various grains, tons of garlic, and frozen sheep and goat carcasses. The hilly country of the eastern Mediterranean was best suited for sheep and goats; raising cattle was a hardship due to topography, climate, and the penury of the indigenous people. Although the demographics varied, it had been this way for millennia.
Pandemonium finished making her initial assessment. The best bet would be to avoid the crew and use the facilities provided down below. The cargo areas would not be checked often during their cruise. Most of the activity would be in the engine room, consisting of maintenance of the boat and topside governance. Ample food and drink were easily available. She looked over to her now snoozing companion and wondered to herself. God must have created him for some particular reason. That raison d'être would become evident, later in the voyage.
The Minerva passed through the Straits of Gibraltar, or the "Pillars of Hercules," as ancient mariners once called it. Chaos and Pandemonium saw "the Rock" through a well-located port hole. It would be the last land they would see until they got to their destination. With an overflowing abundance of free food and drink, Chaos was in his usual element of ignorant bliss. Pandemonium pondered a great deal. As she thought, her hands toyed with the amulet her mother had given her as a child, saying, "If the Greek coffee doesn't work, use this as a last resort!" Inside the amulet was a diminutive ampoule containing a love potion. The ancient artifact had been passed down from countless mothers to daughters in her family lineage. Ancestral legend said that it held a teardrop from Cupid.
Unfortunately for Pandemonium, she did not believe in fate. She had bootstrapped and clawed her way to the top and had created her own luck. Therefore, she was literally going to create an ally for future manipulation at her own pleasure. One warm evening, she made a special brew of ingredients from the ship's hold. It was that wicked and notorious "chunky soup." Chaos was already three sheets to the wind. Never in his pointless life could he ever imagine having so many fine Greek wines at his disposal. Pandemonium opened the ampoule and poured the minute contents into the chunky soup. She brought the concoction over to Chaos, who greedily devoured it, bringing the desired result to fruition. This seminal event was not a pretty sight, but it was mercifully expeditious. Conception was immediate, with Chaos none the wiser. Pandemonium was pleased with herself over the "immaculate deception." The dupe never knew what hit him. The ruse had been mere child's play.
Unluckily, there was an inherent caveat in the love potion. Yes, it was a teardrop captured from Cupid. However, he had been recently excoriated by the powers of Mount Olympus for excessive gluttony. He was out weeping about his dilemma when an unscrupulous sprite unknowingly captured the teardrop. An imprudent mortal would pay well for an essence of the winged one. Imperfect mankind was indelibly permeated with vanity, greed, hatred, and lust. Mortals were preordained to be manipulated on high by the great ones. How the eventual transaction went down was lost in the waste bin of history.
The activity of the ship's crew escalated into a frenzy. Pandemonium overheard one crewmember saying that they were off the coast of America. She could see lights of the approaching coastline on the moonless night. The steady hum of the ship's engine room decreased noticeably. They were now in the coastal shipping lanes. If they were caught on board, they would be turned over to the authorities and then surely deported straight back to Greece and acrimony. She would snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. She was, after all, Pandemonium. Vanquishing adversity to inevitable triumph was her forte. Furthermore, the Fates had nothing on her! This portion of the ledger, with respect to overt arrogance, would inevitably be balanced.
Since they were stowaways, they had been confined to a small area and were always on guard. Chaos was in his element and required little. In the implicit solitude, she had always found thoughtful solace in the chess game of life. They were close enough to the shoreline for her dénouement to be satisfied. Life jackets were readily available. She had already secured the two she needed. At midnight, the changing of the watch was their best window of opportunity. Pandemonium woke up Chaos from his usual drunken stupor. The time was near. A ship's clock read 11:30 p.m., then 11:45 p.m., and then at 11:50 p.m., the ten-minute countdown began. Inevitably, the ship's loudspeaker came to life and crackled at midnight. Unknowingly, the bosun's mate in a relief watch had initiated the commencement of a catharsis.
During the few minutes before midnight, the odd couple had put on the life jackets. She simply told the gullible man that they were going on that little nighttime swim she had promised. Not one to miss an opportunity for adventure, he readily complied. She grabbed her stash of carefully wrapped currency, and they both headed topside. On the count of three, they made the plunge overboard. The splash could not be heard over the voices of the men changing duty stations. As they bobbed and collected themselves, the Minerva eased into the distance. They both watched until the last vestige of their Greek homeland slowly disappeared. Chaos and Pandemonium would prevail, as they slowly paddled toward the shoreline lights.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Skinny on Sarahby Michael R. Farley Copyright © 2011 by Michael R. Farley. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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