Disclaimer: Not Mine. No profit.
Acknowledgements: Mogs Universe - Thank you.
After a rush of stories I have slowed down somewhat you may have noticed!
I have been carrying an injury (100+wpm has become a one handed 5wpm) so
writing is now very slow and tedious and incredibly frustrating - I cant
get it down fast enough and keep losing the flow. Hopefully I will be able
to get some of the stories out of my head before I escape for the annual
Middle East Summer Mass Exodus (its already 45 degrees with 95% humidity
GET ME OUTTA HERE!).
Denver Academy for the Exceptionally Gifted
Ezra turned as his name was called. The hallway was crowded with numerous
parents and their uniformed offspring, seemingly milling around aimlessly.
Charles Sinclair, Head of the Academy, was approaching at speed, cutting
a swathe through the throng with his impressive bulk.
The Agent greeted the principal cordially. They had seen quite a lot of each
other since the Southerners mischievous daughter had started attending
the school some months earlier and both Standish and Tanners cell phone
numbers were now programmed into the mans phone on speed dial keys.
He could also recite the numbers of any of the rest of the Seven without
the aid of an address book.
Larabee had his undying admiration - and sympathy.
Mr Sinclair. Ezra held out his free hand and shook the one extended
by the portly teacher. Rorie was clutching his left hand in both of hers
and swinging her feet off the floor. She returned his questioning look with
Dont look at me Daddy. Ive been a really good girl
Elegant eyebrows rose slightly over twinkling green eyes and his lips twitched
with humor as he nodded acceptance of her innocence, this time. She knew
better than to try to mislead her incredibly astute parent and invariably
confessed to her misdemeanors, given time and the proper incentive.
No. No trouble today. Sinclair smiled down at the miniature blonde
troublemaker. She was fast becoming one of his favourite short people, despite
the incredible propensity for practical jokes and smart remarks.
At least she was funny with it.
I just wanted to speak to you about the upcoming school show. Rorie
has a major part and I was wondering if we could enlist your assistance with
costumes. I understand you are a master of dressing up?
Ezra chuckled as Rorie began whistling tunelessly and glancing about the
busy hallway with feigned nonchalance. Much to her fathers disgust,
Vin had been teaching her to whistle but she hadnt mastered it yet.
Blowing noisily would be a more accurate description.
Has she indeed? In that case, I may be induced to make my considerable
skills available for such an auspicious occasion. Its the twenty-first?
What does the programme entail?
Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. We need costumes for all the
major players. If you could design them, our drama department will have them
made up and then we will need your assistance on the night to get all the
kids into costume before the performance.
The Undercover Agents eyes narrowed in speculation. I understand
from the official notice that there is a limited allocation of
Sinclair nodded. Each student is allowed four guests. These events
are always over subscribed, partly due to the great interest in kids with
talent. He eyed the suave ATF Agent. As Costume Director you
would have a free seat so Rorie still has her allocated four
I would doubtlessly need assistance to dress all those children on
the night. Perhaps two extra chairs should be earmarked for the costume
department. He waited with an expectant half smile, knowing the Principal
was on his wavelength.
Sinclair grinned, having anticipated the man to bargain for seven seats.
Hed met the Uncles and knew none of the formidable group
would be excluded. He had already made appropriate arrangements. Rorie would
have her own raucous support section in the audience.
Done. The two shook hands and Sinclair handed Ezra the folder
containing a list of the characters and an outline of what each would require
in the way of costuming for the show.
Late Wednesday Night
Indeed. Rorie is to be the King of Egypt.
Is it a speaking part?
Singing. I seem to recall that the whole show is sung. Josiah
leaned back in his chair and it creaked ominously at the treatment. He ignored
his hosts pained look.
Chris grinned. I went to see that in the theatre with Sarah once.
Its quite good. I think Buck can help Rorie rehearse for her part.
Buck looked intrigued as Ezra nodded and laughed. Why me?
Brother if you heard the song youd know. Josiah was smiling.
Ez bought a CD an I agree. Bucks the man fer the job.
Vin placed his cards face down on the table and rose to change the music.
Since the arrival of the Southerners small daughter, it had become
customary for the Wednesday night poker game to be held in the Standish house
since it was easier than arranging babysitting. Not that babysitting was
a problem, as Terri was available to mind the child, but the five who
didnt live on the premises had discovered that if they arrived early
enough they would get to spend some time with their favourite munchkin before
bedtime. Not an opportunity willingly passed up.
Vin sat back down at the table and pointed the remote handset at the music
system, forwarding to the correct track.
As the music began to fill the room, Buck began to smile. He quickly started
to laugh and the others joined in. Elvis? He spluttered. Elvis
is the king of Egypt? Ezra nodded.
I think hed be pleased with the comparison.
Rorie gets to be ELVIS? He sounded incredulous.
Ezra produced a brown manila folder from a side table littered with early
readers and colored pencils. He opened the file and pulled out a sheet of
paper, which he passed over to Wilmington. Buck had just taken a swig of
beer and promptly choked.
Thats her costume? He glanced up at the undercover
agent who nodded. Oh, she is gonna look great! He passed it to
Josiah who looked it over and chuckled before passing it on.
Ez is designin all the costumes. Im gonna help dress the
kids on the night an one o ya has ta be the other assistant.
At the horrified looks he clarified. Either that or someone doesnt
git ta go. We gotta earn the extra seats.
I can do that. JD was quick to volunteer.
Actually Mr Dunne, I was hoping you would video the show. Perhaps Mr
Jackson would assist in dressing the children?
Sure. Nathan agreed without protest. We still get to watch
So you want me to coach her?
We thought you could teach her the infamous pelvic gyrations, Mr
Wilmington, if you have the time?
Sure. I can do Elvis. Buck rose to his feet and performed a quick
series of hip thrusts. Nathan snorted his beer and Chris choked on a pretzel.
Thank you, thank you very much!
The Southerner frowned at the suggestive movements. Just remember
shes only four Mr Wilmington.
Ezra, Vin and Nathan shuffled into their seats, climbing over their colleagues
to get to their places.
As the lights dimmed JD flicked the switch on his video camera and began
to record the show. Rorie did not appear on stage until immediately after
the interval. The reaction of the audience was instantaneous.
The very small King of Egypt was decked out as an Egyptian, as depicted in
the hieroglyphics, in the usual white tunic and straight shoulder length
black wig. Her eyes were also heavily outlined in black, with a line curving
slightly upward away from the outside corner.
In every way she was classically Pharaohnic.
With a few exceptions.
Her tunic was covered in rhinestones and sequins, ala Elviss white
jump suit, and her black wig held a ludicrously enormous pompadour on the
top. But it was not the costume that made the audience chuckle.
Buck had taken his coaching position seriously.
Little Rorie Standish had the Elvis patented pelvic swivel and grind down
to a fine art. She was a perfect mini parody and thus very, very funny. She
lowered her voice and thickened her Southern accent as she sang about cows
Buck smiled, proud as any parent, and accepted the knowing looks from Josiah
and Chris in the darkened auditorium.
JD attempted to stifle his laughter and keep the camera steady.
Josiah glanced at Vin and was surprised to see an expression of concentration
cross his face as he watched his niece perform. He witnessed the sharpshooter
and undercover agent exchange concerned looks across a chortling Nathan seated
Wondering what the two were worrying about, he concentrated on Rorie, examining
her facial expression under the harsh glare of the spotlight.
She looked dismayed.
As the Pharaoh exited, stage right, he nudged Vin in the ribs and raised
his brows questioningly. The Texan shook his head and shrugged.
Ezra spent the rest of the show wondering what was wrong. He had to stifle
the urge to go backstage to find and comfort his child. He had no idea what
the problem was.
After the show Team 7 loitered around the hallway, waiting while Ezra went
off to collect Rorie from the teachers. Other audience members gave the
formidable looking group a wide berth as they waited for their children to
Backstage, the Southerner exchanged a few polite words with the Principal
and then strode over to where his daughter, blonde again, was fighting to
get into her jeans. As he approached he could hear her muttering under her
Hello Honeybee. How is my favorite mini celebrity?
Rorie glanced up at her father and scowled before switching her concentration
back to her clothes. The denim seemed to sense her mood and put up a fight
to stay off the little body. Ezra sighed. She was mad as a hornet in a jar
and just as approachable.
Can I assist you?
Muttering in temper and huffing out her bangs, Rorie tugged on the recalcitrant
clothing again and nearly toppled over backwards.
Stop. The green-eyed agent knelt before the angry child, taking
the inside out jeans and deftly turning the legs out the right way, before
zipping her into her pants. Once that was accomplished she stood perfectly
still, head hanging.
Watching the bent head, Ezra settled back, still kneeling, resting his butt
on his shoes. He caught hold of the trembling chin with one hand and raised
her face until he could see her eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment
Do you want to tell me what the problem is?
Bruised looking green eyes peeked from beneath the too-long bangs. She huffed
again. Everybody laughed Daddy.
He considered that. And?
I was the King. You dont laugh at the King. It wasnt a
funny part. She looked up at him again and he winced inwardly at the
look of hurt. Why did they laugh at me Daddy?
The little girl let out a heavy sigh as she was gathered against the broad
chest and wrapped in a big enveloping hug. Inhaling deeply she buried her
nose in the fine silk of her fathers shirt, her nose twitching at the
comforting scent that was uniquely Daddy.
Aftershave, coffee, soap and
Ezra kissed the top of her head before pulling away and combing his fingers
through the messy curls. They werent laughing at you, baby. In
fact your performance was fantastic and you got exactly the reaction your
part demanded. They were complimenting you with their laughter. He
smiled gently at her as she straightened her shoulders at the praise from
the man whose opinion mattered most. Whilst your part was regal, the
music was written as a parody of the King.
Whats a parody?
A musical, literary or other composition that mimics the style of another
composer or author in a humorous or satirical way. Something so badly done
as to seem an intentional mockery.
You mean like Uncle JD doing an Uncle Chris glare? Thats
Ezra snorted. You think Mr Dunne intentionally makes fun of Mr
Rorie thought about that. No. That would be kinda like poking a tiger
in the butt with a sharp stick, wouldnt it?
An accurate but crude analogy, honeybee.
So how was it supposed to be funny?
Well, you were the King of Egypt, true, but the music was written in
the style of The King. They mixed the two together to get something
amusing. Your portrayal was perfect.
She beamed at him then frowned in confusion. What King?
Uncle Buck didnt tell you about The King when he
was teaching you your moves? She shook her head as she slipped her
sneakers onto her feet. Ezra wrinkled his nose. That disgraceful footwear
could do with a wash. He thought for a moment and then grabbed her hand.
Come on. We are going to gather your fans and go for a celebration
dinner. I will show you The King and you will understand how
brilliant you were.
Hard Rock Café
Munching on her Jimi Tenderstix and fries, Rorie sat between
Josiah and JD and watched her favorite adults interacting. Everyone but Buck
was seated at the table, drinking and joking and annoying Nathan, whos
turn it seemed to be to be butt of the jokes.
Adults were very weird.
Especially her adults.
Losing interest in the banter, most of which went right over her head as
usual, she glanced up as Buck appeared behind her chair.
Hey Short Stuff. Rorie let out a strangled yelp as he unexpectedly
lifted her out of her chair. Come see. The ladies man propped
her on his hip and set off across the restaurant floor towards the cluttered
wall beside the bar. The others watched for a moment before turning to Ezra.
He had managed to corner Buck back at the school and explain the problem
and Buck had suggested their current venue for dinner and explanations.
The pair stopped in front of a white sequined jumpsuit in a glass case. Rorie
looked at the flashy suit and then at Buck and back again before turning
to her Uncle with questioning eyes.
Darlin this suit was worn by The King for one of
his concerts. A few years ago, um, well, quite a long time ago to you, there
was a musical phenomenon called Elvis Presley. His voice and stage presence
was so fantastic that he became famous all over the world. Just about everyone
knows The King. It was his music we danced to at home.
Rorie nodded and looked at the suit. They moved to a nearby photograph and
Wilmington watched as the realization dawned on the child. A slow smile crept
up on the elfin face as she took in the black coiffure and the stance of
the man in the picture.
Does he dance like us too?
He did. He died a while ago but his reputation and music live on in
the hearts of his fans. Buck signalled to the barman who nodded and
moved to change the video playing on the numerous TV screens hanging from
Moving back to the group at the table, Buck whispered, Watch.
He sat in his chair with the child on his knee and focussed on her face.
Much as he loved to watch Elvis, he loved to watch this kid more.
Rories mouth dropped open as The King performed his famous
hip swivel. Halfway through the song her shoulders started to move and by
the end she was wiggling along with Elvis as he performed live in Las Vegas.
A line of flashy showgirls danced behind him but they were eclipsed by the
moves of the man in white.
All around the restaurant, diners mimed along with the lyrics.
Do you understand the concept of a Parody Aurora?
Ezra smiled at the grinning child, matching her dimples.
Yahuh. She nodded vigorously. I think Uncle Buck does it
Across the table Chris started to laugh as he watched his oldest friend puff
up with pride. His eyes met the amused blue of the sharpshooter.
Thats cause Uncle Buck spends so much o his time
practicin pelvic thrusts.
There were groans and chuckles around the table. A rapidly deflated Buck
had the grace to look embarrassed.
Rorie looked from face to face, her confusion evident.
They laughed harder.
Rorie shrugged. Grown ups were very weird.
To Atlantan Legacy XIX - Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat,
Where Have You Been?
Back to Atlantan Legacy Index
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