Coco' Big Day P-5

LIONWORLD By William E Justin

Coco’s Big Day PART FIVE

“We can’t let Randi in on the bet”. Merle was back with his brothers and looking at him talking with Buster and Auntie Lucile. “He over there countin’ stuff we can’t see. He gonna mess up the odds.” The other guys all figured this was probably true and quickly voted not to mention the bet to Randi or Robert. So far, Merle had collected $1000 from friends and family and had it at even money. Bill had set up an instant web address to provide updates during the course of the party to those with advanced cell phones. He was encouraging more betting. There was also an online discussion beginning to take shape as to what would be the ultimate conditions that would settle the bet as to whether it was Buster—or Auntie Lucile—that bested the other. Bill found a coffin picture to use as a background for the instant website. Ronnie saw this and complained to Merle that it would skew the odds. He settled this question among his brothers by telling Bill to find a second picture promoting Buster. He found an old photo of Buster with a big smile on his face and pasted it onto the background next to the coffin graphic.

When Merle left the table to greet some fresh arrivals he thought might want in on the bet, Bill decided to flash-mail some people he knew and see if they wanted to bet. One of the camera crew guys had taken a few shots of Buster and Lucile with a “wrist camera” he always kept up the sleeve of his shirt. His cell phone acted as a monitor and editing devise that allowed him to get some excellent close-ups. He had the photos relayed to the instant website where Bill had laid out the bet in text. By the time Merle returned to them fifteen minutes later, the total bets had doubled with new ones coming in each few minutes. Merle reconfigured the odds at 6 to 5 with Buster White as the new favorite. Bill updated the instant website and his older brother told him to set up a quick-account to collect the bets. Somebody told him to dial in a web service called Friendly Wagers that specialized in such things. As all of this was taking place. Maxim, Big-E and Jimmy were putting on their Lion-fighting gear. The famed photo-portraitist Mary Harris had arrived with all of her assistants and equipment. They were setting up in a large back room Big-E had stripped of its furnishings and had repainted to her specs. The three men had not met Mary Harris before but liked her right away. She had that effect on many. Her list of rich and famous clients was huge. She herself was an intelligent and plain-spoken woman with roots in Kentucky. She was past the age of 65, always dressed casually and didn’t use make-up. Her once sandy hair was now mostly gray and her face showed the lines of one used to long days of work and problem solving . She was instantly fascinated with the Lion-fighters. She thought Jimmy “Samoan” Luani was the cutest of the three. Big-E White and Maxim she quickly observed, were partners who possessed no rivalry with each other but communicated in a subtle body language that few people would spot. Big-E was naturally quiet and a bit stoic. He was good-natured and deeply intelligent—but always busy controlling some fury that he kept compressed inside him. He seemed capable of anything at anytime and she found that she couldn’t quite look him in the eye in normal conversation. Big-E was the softest-looking of the three but might actually have been the toughest. When Maxim Le Muffett came into the room wearing a loose black silk getup and carrying a blood-stained, dangerous-looking spear, Mary watched as the static electricity he created actually showed on the monitor of her light-controller console. He possessed an aura as if five shining angels were surrounding him at all times lending their countenance. At the center of this was a man of relaxed confidence that smiled easily. He moved so freely that she would not have suspected he carried an artificial leg at the end of a stumped-out thigh. The seven encrusted jewels in the leg made people’s head tend to bow as their eyes were naturally drawn to the effulgence. That was the first thing she asked Maxim; if he had done that intentionally. He laughed merrily when he heard this and began to slowly shake his head. “I never thought about that” he said in a friendly and charming voice that made her feel like they were family. “But probably underneath, that’s exactly what it’s about!” He chuckled some more. “Jus’ some old way a gimp try to feel better about what he got left.” Mary Harris liked the way Maxim could draw down his voice into an ‘ah shucks’ tone and slightly add it in like a sub-mix being cut into a main audio track. In contrast to Big-E and Maxim, Jimmy Luani cast what was closer to an ordinary effect. He began to go on with her about the family photo he had made with his wife Sydney and their two boys. “Did you see her?” he asked Mary proudly. “She just looks so good tonight!” Mary could tell he loved her deeply. It seemed he might go running out of the room at any moment to fetch her and get a portrait of her made right then and there. Jimmy looked like a giant man filled with more then a little impishness. Whatever part of him it was that batted lions around was not something that came across in normal conversation. She became concerned that he might not “swell up” right when the camera eye clicked open; that he might look out of place with Big-E and Maxim. But Mary Harris was not the expert photographer because she lacked strategies for such things. All she needed from Jimmy Luani was one single expression of his inner Lion-fighter. She would take it from there in post-production. As this portrait was to be put into the George W Lincoln gallery in the Colombia District, it had to possess some mist of historic proportion to it. “I understand you guys will be given a reception at The People’s House by the President?” She asked. She was trying to stir up some of this mood. This lighted up Jimmy’s eyes. Max smiled back at her like she was a child who charmed him. Big-E appeared to almost frown at this but showed little emotion. She went on to tell the three that she was a descendant to a cousin of George W Lincoln’s wife Martha. She always told people this and it was true. But many went away thinking she was a blood relative of the early sixteenth-century man considered the greatest of American presidents; most famous for avoiding civil war by freeing the native American people from slavery after making a deal to bring Africans into the country to work as indentured servants The connection to Lincoln was one ruse that never failed her.

Mary Harris then briefed the Lion-fighters on her method for coming up with the best possible photograph. “An intricate arrangement of lighting has been set up as you can see” she began. “We’ll initialize the various set-ups right now if you’ll take your places. Just relax, no need to hold up your weapons.” The three took previously decided-upon positions. Maxim was at center with Big-E at his right hand and Jimmy at his left. Mary told them to squint their eyes and then clicked a controller she was holding. Several dozen lights of various colors began to flash behind an array of different shades. Some of these were spot lights, others ground lights, and others back lights hidden off to the side of the room in a nook. Mary studied the geometries that began to appear on her monitor. She told the men to hold still and then started clicking through various sets of lights she had extracted. More geometries appeared on her screen and she reconfigured the lights in a way that suited her and told them that they were ready. “This first part is all about body postures and use of your weapon props. Just visualize yourselves alone when you first encounter a lion. Just react as you would naturally. “ Big-E and Jimmy got on the balls of their feet and held their bat and blade the way they would at the edge of action. Maxim just stood there with the butt of his spear resting on the ground. Mary Harris was clicking away taking shot after shot before she noticed Max was not moving. “Is that how you react when you come upon a lion?” she asked him. “Yes” he replied plainly. “I have to wait until he makes a decision before I assume a stance.” He explained to her that the large cats become very nervous when they see him and will slide a little to each side before they commit left or right. “When they commit, I thrust. If the cat goes to our outer flank I make a kind of sweeping motion to drive it toward my brother Ronnie who chases it out of bounds. If it moves toward our center, toward Big-E, I kill it.” He showed her, in slow motion, how he would hop and spring and turn his body in mid-air before driving the spear into the lion. Mary clicked her camera controller intuitively as Max spoke. Later when she was going through the set of shots she noticed a cluster showing Jimmy Luani’s face clouding into a look of jealousy. This set of pictures also displayed little looks of glee from Big-E. It took her a while to understand what all of this meant. She suggested Max pretend to see a lion going left, then right. He told her that there just wasn’t enough room for that and they settled on him moving rhythmically in place, tilting the spear this way and that. As all of this was taking place, the lights would come on and change according to the controls Mary initiated with her hand-clicker. Then they moved on to the facial oriented shots that involved her trying to coax expressions out of them. For this she would run through various lists of nouns while clicking off shots. It was like a word association game but with an important difference. She gave the three men tiny remote controls and told them to toggle and click in one of four direction based on how they felt about the noun she voiced. This would alter the pattern of lights in different ways she had mapped out in setting up the event. She told them the significance of each position they could toggle: an up-click was something they should do if the noun she used had a pleasant effect on them; a down-click for a negative feeling; an inside left-click if they felt strongly; and a right click if they didn’t. A non-click could be used if weren’t really interested. She had them test it out. Very subtle effects were achieved in the base lighting as each man clicked, or passed on clicking. “Don’t get too wrapped up in all of this” she said smiling. “Just do it or opt out as you please. Its just one more way of getting you guys to make different faces at the camera”. They ended up going through this very rapidly. They paused several times for assistants to dry off the men’s faces—or to add moisture and apply tiny amounts of make-up. The entire photo shoot of the production came and went in little more then an hour. The rest would be handled in post-production and the final proof would be made available to them very quickly, in a matter of days. They would either accept the photo or kill the project. That was the terms agreed upon. Mary Harris did not usually compromise. They would be satisfied she told them. People always were. The three Lion-fighters would decide among themselves whether the project would come all the way forward. Each had taken many pictures and didn’t expect much change in how they would perceive the group portrait. They weren’t so picky. They were going to go with what she came up with. Big-E invited Mary Harris and her crew to stay for dinner but she told them she wouldn’t dream of intruding on a family event.

Dinner came at six o’clock. Servers slowly herded the many guests into places pre-arranged by Coco. Buster was pulled away from Lucile and seated with Bill and Ronnie and the camera crew. The husband and wives were generally seated apart with each getting a few of the children to supervise. Maxim’s twelve children were scattered about with Lynette and the aunties. Big-E, Coco, Maxim and Dr Akiyama sat with the Luani’s and with Jean d’ Sole. All were given menus to the variety of foods prepared by the catering company, who made use of the kitchen and breakfast nook areas and had trucks backed into the parking spaces next to this part of the house. Ronnie and Bill were busy giving Buster differing advice with their auntie Lucile. “You gotta pace yourself” Ronnie said in a low voice. “Come on” retorted his brother. “Buster White don’t ‘pace his’self’…he pounce…..then he bust big! That’s his style, little brother.” Merle was sitting at the next table and overheard this. He flashed a big, mean face at them. He wanted nature to just take its course and for the chips to fall where they would. He didn’t want to have to re-configure the odds any more. With word among their friends getting out on-line, total bets were now over five-thousand dollars. Buster had been the favorite. Then wives and girlfriends began to lay down for Lucile. Merle knew this had gotten out of hand. He had more work now then he ever intended for himself. And if something dramatic in terms of a result didn’t show up the next day, everybody would be fighting over who had bested the other, and word would spread to Big-E and Coco! Buster meanwhile, wasn’t paying them much attention. He kept looking over at Lucile who would smile back and touch her watch. They had already worked everything out. When desert was on the tables, Coco slipped off. When she returned a while later it came with an announcement that the six-year anniversary toast would now be presented. Coco made her re-appearance and there was something of a gasp. She had changed from a simple and refined party dress into a creation from the designer Daz that left little to the imagination. She had re-worked what there was of the two-piece outfit by covering it with a special fabric she had found. She also wore the solid gold bracelet Big-E had given her as well as the tiara from their year-one party. Both were items she rarely ever put on. Her stunning closet full of jewelry was mostly used during “dress-up day” at her summer girl’s camp. Big-E’s pulse was throbbing and he went to her and slid her into him and wrapped his right hand around her waist. He couldn’t believe how good she looked and felt. It was like when they first met. He public consciousness quelled greatly as if all the lights in the room had gone off and it was only the two of them. Robert Casoni appeared with an oversized glass for the toast and told everyone how blessed their union was. Then they both sipped from the glass. It was filled with a mixture of very old wine—and of juice squeezed from locally-grown grapes picked from a special vine only hours earlier. The friends and family of Big-E and Coco all joined the toast. Then they clapped and shouted their congratulations. The sixth-year anniversary toast was actually part of a very old ritual that went back for thousands of years. Or that’s what the author of the book on this subject had written several decades earlier. Coco and Sydney had read it and wanted to have all of the sub-rites and parties and romanticism that went along with it. And this was all encouraged by Jean. Most people didn’t honor the ritual—which was designed for another time and place. Originally, couples were betrothed at the edge of puberty and not allowed to have much or any contact until reaching the beginning of adulthood. In the sixth year sub-ritual, the couple would begin to explore the intimacies of their sexual natures with their mates. But intercourse was not allowed until the night or weeks following the seventh-year final ritual. They were allowed to tease and touch and stimulate one another in every other way, but intercourse was reserved for the progression into child bearing and true family life. It was thought that such ritual—which was often very difficult for the young people—would result in this best quality offspring. Big-E and Coco were much to old to enact the true ritual. Abstinence for them wasn’t a possible even for seven days when they first had met. Instead Coco used the teachings in the book to be an aid in what was otherwise a modern marriage. The seven-year contract now was mostly a very simple legal document. That is, simple for everyone except Maxim and his five wives and twelve children. His legal work in this regard was long and involved. He spent over fifty thousand dollars on the document and put in many hours of research himself trying to discern what would be fair and proper in his situation. The evening eventually came to a close and most of the guest took their children and went home or to

hotel rooms they had rented for the occasion. Max brought a small bus to haul his kids and their three nannies. Lynette and the aunties stayed at the house. But their oldest sister had left with Buster. When the three brothers returned the next day she greeted each with the news that Lucile had gone and taken Buster White back to Brazil the previous night. She and her sisters were shaking their heads, still in disbelief. “She just got that old smile up in her eyes” Lynette said. “She tell me, ‘oh, I’m gonna take Busta back to Brazil with me…to keep my po’ ol’ husband company.’” Lynette hadn’t seen that smile in a long time. Her oldest sister’s smile was like a door to world that she would never know about…and probably didn’t want to know about! “So we all gonna have to wait some time to find out how it plays out”, she told her sons. “Only thing I can say...is that ol’ husband of Lucile must’ve done some wicked things in his time to end up paralyzed in a chair and stuck in a room with that nasty old Busta White talkin’ up a foul storm like he do!” She even wondered to herself if Lucile had taken him away as some way of making up for the wrongs she had done in her life. Taken him away for the sake of the family. It was either that, or something altogether different. Big-E and Coco never emerged from their section of the large house that whole day. The door to their secret lives stayed locked to everyone else. In Los Angeles, at her home, Mary Harris spent the entire day going through the photos of the Lion-fighters. The portrait shaped up in her mind. It would be decent but not as great as she would’ve liked. The full spirit of this unusual form of man had not quite made it onto the images she exposed. That is, until the very last picture of the entire set. She had almost skipped viewing the photos by that point. But then—much to her amazement—there it was right at the end. The tension she was looking for. The three men had each clicked down and in on their light controllers indicating they had the most intense feeling about the noun she used. It set a very unique light. At first, she couldn’t even remember the name she had spoken. The final string had been “the last ten celebrities” she had photographed before the Lion-fighters. The last name in that set—the one that had apparently summoned the strong feeling from them—was the leader of the Fascists. Ethan Vulerummer.

Portrait of the Lion-fighters LIONWORLD By William E Justin COPYRIGHT 2009 BY WILLIAM E JUSTIN ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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