Enjoy Chapter 4 From My Novel, Beatlemaniac – a preview.

Chapter 4

The early evening hotel room grew much too dark due to the heavy thick drapes, and the likelihood of reaching for the phone without sight only worked thanks to the soft illuminated glow from an incoming call. “Hello,” said Heath, but he received no answer. The digital clock read six p.m. With a slight shift toward the nightstand, he switched on the lamp and fetched the small note for direct contact to a cherub. While dialing the number, he plotted what best way to start the one-on-one.

     The cherub picked up. “Hello.”

     He pounced with, “Cavanaugh Hotel wake-up call as requested, miss.”

     “Hmm, I think it’s a sin you’re 40 seconds late; I’d report you if my alarm hadn’t saved your incompetence.”

     “No, miss, I deserve to suffer your wrath. Can I gain back your confidence and provide breakfast on me, well not on me, that would be rather messy, don’t you think? What I mean is, breakfast will be my treat.”

     “All right, my good man. Breakfast accepted. Shall we say 7:30 p.m. at the hotel restaurant?”

     “Splendid, miss, and the sky is the limit since you’re a flight attendant.”

     “A little corny, Heath, but cute. See you soon.”

     “Okay, Tiff, until 90 minutes.”

     He dialed zero.

     “Hotel Lobby, may I help you?” 

     “Another wake-up call for 6:45 p.m., please?” 

     “Yes, sir, room 719 down for wake-up call in 43 minutes, correct?” 

     “Correct, thank you.” Once his eyes closed, he slipped into unconsciousness as if taking a hard right hook to the lower jaw.

                               ____________________________   

    

Tiff showed up first, so she arranged for a playful joke. When Heath arrived, she smiled.

     “Well,” he said in an excellent Billy Crystal mimic of Fernando Lamas, “you look marvelous.”

     “Thank you, Mr. Wilson, wish I could say the same, but my voice sounds dimwitted when I impersonate celebrities, so may I just say you look very handsome?” 

     “You may say anything whatsoever without fear of sounding like a dimwit, at least in my ears.”

     “Thank you, Heath, you sure know how to treat a lady.”

     “Here, perhaps ladies may sit near us, perhaps ladies may serve meals to hungry patrons, but tonight I dine with an angel.”

     “You’re liable to make me gain weight with all this sweet talk.”

     “Too much?” 

     “Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but let’s talk about you for a while.”

     He glanced over both shoulders and took a seat next to her. “All right, Tiff, what do you wish to know?” 

     “Ever married?” 

     “Nope. You?”

     “Never,” she said. “My flights make it difficult to capture a marriage license. I was glad as I walked you to the plane exit your ring finger also has a vacancy.”

     “So that explains your hand-squeezing episode, I figured you liked my compliments.”

     “I am glad for both.”

     Their server appeared. “Good evening. I’m Sam, short for Samantha; may I take your order?”

     Tiff looked at Heath. “You trust me?” 

     “I do.”

     Tiff turned to Sam. “Two Specialty Chicken a la Robears, and iced tea for me; Heath?” 

     “Dr. Pepper sounds good.”

     “I’ll be back with your drinks,” said Sam.

     Tiff watched a few servers ambush Sam, who kept attentive views on her suave date. “By the way, Heath, they pour liquor here.”

     “Never touch it,” he said into her hazel eyes and smiled.

     “Why the grin?” 

     “I believe you never touch it either.”

     “I check in at the airport near 10 o’clock and never drink before work.”

     “That’s not it.”

     “What makes you so sure?” 

     “Let me answer your question with another question. How could God send me an angel of difference?” 

     She cocked her head. “He wouldn’t, so He didn’t, but how do you keep turning our conversation back to me? I still want to talk about you.”

     “Okay, where should I start?” 

     “Where’d you go to college?” 

     “Salisbury University, a degree in conflict analysis and dispute resolution.”

     “Salisbury, Maryland?” 

     “That’s the place. I was born and raised in Maryland.”

     “Oh, yes, a beautiful campus.”

     “You’ve seen it?” 

     “Once. My flight every Wednesday puts me into DC for two days, and as much as I love the Smithsonian museums, I like to branch out and take in other sights before duty calls. I return Friday around midnight if no delay interrupts our arrival. You, sir, just made my Thursday break an easy choice.”

     “You’re going to my university again?” 

     “I wouldn’t miss it. Any special place I should focus?”  

     “The Center for Conflict Resolution’s three wings––in particular, the one for practice sessions, to gain priceless hands-on experience.”

    Sam returned with a full tray. “Here we are; two House Specialty Robears. Anything else I can get you, refills?” 

     “Yes, Sam. Refills, please.” Heath lowered his nose, took a long inhale from the astounding orange with maple glaze aroma, and realized how hungry his empty stomach fussed. “Wow, this smells fantastic.”

     “Wait until you try it; my favorite item on the menu.”

     “You’re not only beautiful, but you also have great taste.” He took a bite. “Wow, I’m destined to order this from room service when you’re cross country.”

     “I’m glad you like it.”

     “Like it? I love it.”

     “Love represents a powerful word, so maybe God sent me an angel, too.”

     Heath held up his drink and said, “To angels.”

     “To angels,” she said, and both clinked glasses.

     “Where do you fly the rest of the week?” 

     “On Monday, I have the nine a.m. flight also into DC but get back home close to 7:45 p.m. Tuesday is my least favorite. The flight to DC leaves at six a.m. Layover is eleven hours at the hotel, mostly for sleep, and then I come back on the same flight I met you on. Luck have it, my days off are Saturdays and Sundays. But back to Salisbury University, what led you there?” 

     “I secured a baseball scholarship and considered nothing but sports, regardless if I played, taught, trained, or learned alternative athletic injury treatment. However, I underwent an enormous college team setback. I couldn’t hit a fastball to save my life. My glove work ranked top of the heap compared to my teammates, but without a hot appearance at the plate, I was a burden. After one season, I hung up my uniform, looked into criminal justice, and studied courses to be an investigator. One thing led to another, and that’s how I got where I am today–– exploratory reporting for you know who.”

     “That’s wonderful, Heath. You must not mind the tedious hurdles or constant rabbit trails that come with the territory.”

     “The deeper the search, and higher the hurdle, the better I like it. Enough of me. Tell me more about you, like what’s your last name, and so on?” 

     “Masters,” she said with a giggle. “Tiffany Nicole Masters. As I said, I’ve lived here all my life. My birthdate is March 24, 1986, and my parents still own the house I grew up in. I attended Ash Lyn Community College straight from high school in 2004. My major was public relations, and just before finals during my first semester, Disney sent recruiters to the campus for Disneyland tour guide applicants. My parents agreed Disney opportunities provided much, so with their approval, I applied. I participated in three-on-one, what-if scenarios, which may happen to a tour guide, and afterward, they welcomed me into the Disney University Orientation Program where I learned all the policies, goals, philosophies, and traditions for becoming a cast member. When my last week of finals ended, I met with Mrs. Pellymounter twice, who started her tour guide career with Disney when she was just seventeen in 1959. She offered me a summer job, plus room and board with the same woman who supervised the scenario drills. Working at Disneyland will always carry some of my happiest memories.”

     Heath unfolded a second napkin and twisted each end into a poor mangled fruit roll pattern. “I have a bittersweet Disney World memory that will live until I die.”

     “Oh?”  

     “Five years old, my first and only visit to the Magic Kingdom, and our first overnight trip without Mom and my two-year-old brother. Mom wasn’t up to it and my brother, Tommy, well, a week earlier, God took him home. He was my best friend.”

     Heath watched both her hands, hoping one would reach to his for comfort, except, instead, her parting lips moved but a muscle as she took a breath. “I’m so sorry.”

     “Thank you. Anyhow, mindful my brother ascended to Heaven, Dad believed a trip to Disney could lift both our spirits and help erase some of the inner pain we suffered. Once inside the entry gate, Dad and I brightened over Main Street’s charm. Suddenly, we hear what sounds like a police whistle and bang hammered percussions. Then, from a barrier, came a glitzy marching band all dudded with fancy red hats and decked out costumes each in rhythmic step to the wallop tempo of the drummers. The drum major blew his loud whistle and ordered his marching band to stop right near our feet. Here comes the weird part.” Heath tossed the twisted napkin aside, conscious he acted fidgety. “A long single whistle blast filled our ears, the whole band raises their instruments, and plays the song, Tammy’s in Love. Who ever heard a marching band play Tammy’s in Love? A song always performed as a sweet, romantic waltz, not a marching song like Heigh-Ho, It's off to Work We Go, or the theme song from the Rocky movies.”

     “I’m confused why you believe the song choice comes across as weird.”

     “Because Tammy’s in Love was Tommy’s favorite song; he would always sing, ‘Tommy, Tommy, Tommy’s in love,’ rather than Tammy.”

     “Oh my, how did the tie-in make you and your father feel?”

     “We immediately looked at each other, and Dad told me it was a gift from Heaven, by God. His Grace showed us my brother is very special to Him and all His angels, and because everyone in Heaven missed Tommy so much, the Lord brought my little brother back to Jesus where he will live forever safe, loved, and happy.”

     “Uber beautiful tribute, an inspired portrait. How did he die?”

     “Until my eighteenth birthday, I accepted he contracted a serious illness, and doctors couldn’t save him.”

     “What happened on your eighteenth birthday?”

     “When my surprise party ended and invited friends and family had gone, my parents asked me to sit with them in the living room. I told myself, here comes another surprise, like a new car or, at least, season tickets for every Baltimore Orioles home game I hinted at for years.”

     “Cool.”

     “Not cool at all. For my birthday’s last surprise, I learned Tommy had been kidnapped, ransomed for return, and my parents were warned not to involve the law. Instead, Dad notified detectives, and a few days later, searchers found him in a shallow grave. The police never figured out those responsible.”

     She shook her head. “How awful.”

     “The impact of his death took its toll on me. My attitude changed, my interests changed, even my abilities changed, like being unable to hit a fastball. At 19, I searched the college academic curriculum for a career to honor my brother without a baseball bat, so I discarded sports and pursued criminology in his memory.”

     “So commendable. I’m sure you make your parents proud.”

     “Absolutely, but let’s move on to a lighter subject. Got any secrets Disneyland kept hidden from the majority?” 

     “Well, let me think. Before the park opens during summer, cast members form canoe races around Tom Sawyer Island and marathon foot races inside all the lands. The few attractions guests ride without safety tracks, include the canoes, Tom Sawyer rafts, and the Mike Flint Keel Boats––christened Gullywhumper and Bertha Mae–– that were featured in the movie, Davy Crockett and the River Pirates. Also, the Double-Decker Bus, the Early American Automobiles, and our Fire Engine driven on Main Street. None of those use tracks of any kind.”

     “Interesting,” said Heath. “What else?”

     “Along Main Street, inside the Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln attraction, cast members can sign up for early evening free tickets during the off-season to watch brand new unedited, unreleased movies made at the Disney Studio. Also, cast members can sign up for studio tours held in Burbank to see how they make live-action and animated films.”

     Heath nodded. “Very cool.”

     “Yes, it’s true. We have a half-court basketball court inside the Matterhorn, I’ve seen it. Not much in grandeur, but you can take an elevator to the fifth floor, and the court is there. You’re still not near the mountain top, though; at the side of the basketball court stands a wooden ladder certain cast members must scale all the way to the crest and pretty scary to climb. Every summer, Tinkerbell mounts the same ladder and flies above Fantasyland to signal the fireworks. Do you know how the Tinkerbell actress comes to a full stop?”

     “Can’t say I do.”

     “First, she’s hooked to a cable strung from the Matterhorn tip and slides down it past the Castle, until she reaches the border of Frontierland. Backstage holds a tower where the cable ends, and for Tink to bring her flight to finish, she needs two huge burly guys to hold up a padded mattress. As soon as the spotlight turns off, she braces her shoulder, plows into the cushion, and delivers two guys a pretty heavy jolt. She gets $600 a night for her stunt.”

     Heath whistled and said, “Pretty good work if you can find it.”

     “Right you are, handsome, only two job placements available in the United States. Anaheim and Orlando. Here is something most people don’t know. A long time ago, way before Splash Mountain, when you first entered Bear Country, there was a cave above the walkway with a bear inside that snored. The same person who voices Donald Duck, his real name was Clarence Nash, also recorded those laughable snore sounds at the studio. He also performed many of the bird calls inside the Tiki room in Adventureland. Do you remember Michael Jackson’s Chimp Bubbles?

     Heath nodded.

     “Well, even Bubbles had his photo taken inside the backstage security office and laminated it to an official cast member ID card, but I’m not sure why. Michael came to Disneyland all the time, but I never saw him with an animal, only his children.” She laughed. “I remember his favorite disguise . . . Michael’s big black Continental could enter through Harbor Gate Security and drive into the backstage lot. Then his bodyguards would prepare a wheelchair for him, and Michael would wear a cloth surgical mask over his mouth and nose to hide most of his face. He’d sit hunched with his arms dangled like death while escorted to his favorite attractions. We gave guides to stars, presidents, and royalty.”

     “Sounds like never a dull moment.”

     “You’re right, Heath, but every person is considered a VIP in the Magic Kingdom, which made my tours as fun for me as for those who came along for the show.”

     He watched her take a long sip of cold tea. “What else can you remember about the happiest place on earth?”

     “Hmm, the Main Street lamps took shape more than 170 years ago. They purchased them in Baltimore, your home team, for three cents a pound. Walt Disney’s father, Elias, helped as a building contractor with the Mark Twain Ferry for daily travels afloat the Rivers of America in Frontierland. The second ship, called the Columbia, was the first three-mast windjammer built in the United States in over a hundred years when its historical structure began in 1954. Also in Frontierland, near the Train Station, a telegraph signal transmits Walt’s 1955 dedicated speech when he opened Disneyland. Inside Fantasyland, the Carousel horses débuted between 110 to 130 years old, hand carved with no two exactly alike.”

      “Amazing.”

     “The miniature pines along the Story Book Canal exceed 180 years old, and get this––throughout the entire park, plants from 43 separate countries add themselves to the adjacent natural experience.”

     Heath’s jawbone shifted a smidgen south as his eyebrows lifted.      

     “Here is something sad. When Tomorrowland opened the Autopia freeway ride, kids who had no clue how to drive crashed into each other and destroyed thirty cute little cars. Large bumpers replaced the old design and stopped the pricey wreckage. Oh, and here’s something most people don’t know. Alice used to hang around with Tweedledee and Tweedledum, but because the twins looked a little too freakish, like Mongoloids, Michael Eisner insisted costume control remove them from circulation, and the Mad Hatter or White Rabbit became a better cohort to Alice. That happened between the years 1986 through 1991.”

      “You’re joking?”

     “Not at all, little children showed severe signs of panic when the twins got too close.”

     “So how did you switch to flight attendant?” 

     “Believe it or not, this hotel happens to secure our corporate overnight housing contract for my coworker's scheduled flights into Los Angeles. The paper announced job opportunities and to apply here. The next morning, inside that room, the airline took my application, and roughly 15 minutes later, gave me an interview that lasted a lifetime, but in my mind the longer it takes, the better my chance. Six days later, I boarded a jet to join flight attendant school and reaped uber-benefits. My parents and I fly free, my sister receives four vouchers a year with 90% discounts to anywhere our crafts take to the air, and I love to travel. My job doesn’t even feel like work at all.”

     Out from the kitchen trotted Sam and a few other servers in single-file double-time around the room. Knees high, handclaps in sync, they marched until each stopped next to Heath Wilson. Bewildered, Heath watched Tiff as she tilted her head, winked, and smiled her irresistible smile. The servers’ chorus jumped into an upbeat, updated happy birthday song. Soon other patrons added handclaps that dropped Heath to a shrunken slouch and nervous cough. Near the end of the joyful recital, the room burst into applause for the man of honor. Each female server formed a line behind his chair and hugged his neck, wishing him a happy birthday. Still in a daze, he said, “What the heck was that all about?” 

     Tiff leaned toward him, hands stretched. He, too, reached out and smothered hers curious about the servers’ bizarre behavior, but all she said was, “I can be corny, too.”

     “Corny but cute,” he said.

     Heath escorted his guest to her car. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, birthday boy. I truly had a good time,” she said.

     “I’m sorry it has to end, but when you fly back can I call you?” 

     “You can as long as it’s not a wake-up call,” she joked.

     “Here’s a thought. I proposed we have breakfast, so how about you take the next few days in Washington and think about something we can do on Saturday.”

     “Okay, I have a few ideas in my brain this instant.”

     “The sky is the limit, Tiff.” 

     “Because I’m a flight attendant?” 

     “Because you’re an angel.” Then they kissed.

                               ___________________________________    

Heath slam-dunked the squashed paper bag he found in the elevator as he bounced light on his toes down the hallway to his room. The musical tone allowed him access after he slid the keycard into the door lock. At the receiver, a red light blinked. In search for the light switch, he crushed something underfoot and stepped back. With more light in the room, he realized house-cleaning left a complimentary newspaper to enjoy. Heath fetched the paper off the carpet, flung it across to the bed, and then dialed the code for voice message, in hopes Tiffany Masters phoned.

     “Hello, Mr. Wilson, Fred Gretsch here,” the message said. “Sorry I am returning your call so late. Yes, we can meet at your requested 9:30 tomorrow morning in my office. Can’t say I’ll provide much help to you, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. If I have reached you too late for a confirmed appointment, please call me after eight a.m., and we can reschedule. Otherwise, I look forward to 9:30. You will find me on the third floor at City Hall. Just check in with the receptionist.”

     Heath pushed the newspaper aside. He took his briefcase and removed certain files to review the unexplained frightening issues surrounding this town.

                          ______________________________________

Cilla White yawned and made ready for bed. After the covers were pushed aside, her usual routine started in the bathroom to brush her teeth. On the mirror, lipstick formed the words, P.S. I Love You. Moved with tenderness, she waddled her hips out from the room and cuddled up to her hubby. “I love you, too, Andy, but you will wipe off our mirror before you leave for work in the morning.”

     “I’ll do it now, my love.”

     “It’s okay, babe, just hold me.”

     Andy embraced the girl of his dreams tight. He first noticed her charisma in middle school 24 years ago, but she avoided him since they had nothing in common. Cilla loved reading. Not a day would go by without a few books clutched in her grasp, loaded with knowledge and adventure to fill her mind. Andy loved music. Inside the classroom, his drumsticks would appear and perform to the delight of many, except teachers and Cilla. He still maintained he fell crazy in love because she played hard to get, and even her sharp memory protests to not playing at all can’t convince him. She claims he won her heart by his devoted steps toward her and his confession to her girlfriends how he wouldn’t settle for second best. She also refused second best. This gave Andy a desire to rearrange his priorities for her. Married eighteen years, but felt as if three, made it obvious neither settled for second best after all.

    Their intimacy and soft caresses mingled perfectly with the soft radio sounds as Michael Bublé sang about Crazy Love.

     “Andy?” 

     “Yes, baby.”

     “I got the strangest phone call from Rosemary today.”

     “Strange?”  

     “She withdrew her name to replace Freda as new library director and CEO.”

     “Why is that so strange?” 

     “Because a few days ago she bought a hybrid to make up for the extra distance to the main library and calculated to fork over the new car payments from her anticipated increase in salary. Now, she removed her money from the bank, put a stop to direct deposit from the city, and plans to pay cash for the new car then resell it.”

     “Now that is strange, babe. Maybe she’s comfortable as a branch head librarian.”

     “No, Andy, she acted excited, had all types of plans, and I mean sure fire plans to improve our entire library system’s day-to-day business, including the bookmobiles.” Cilla untangled herself from his squeeze. “She’s more than qualified and enjoys her take-charge role with new and better diversity. Ever since Freda gave her notice, Rosemary trusted the city would send her to the top. Today she told me she doesn’t want the job. She couldn’t even give me a reason. She just wants to stay at the O’Dell Branch until her pension begins next year. A month ago, she spoke how awesome a feat it would be to match Freda’s 20 years as director. I don’t know Rosemary anymore. Something changed her.”

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