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  The glares and verbal barrage from Mrs. Kosinsky continued for a few minutes longer but Jerry stood his ground silently. He knew exactly who he wanted sitting next to him when the lights went down and it was Candy Porfumo.

  ***

  Woody was fidgety, standing outside Jerry’s house waiting for him to come out, patting down the blue cotton crepe sport shirt that his Mother had ironed for him and fearing they would be late. Priscilla had come outside and was staring at Woody. She started twirling her hula hoop when Jerry rushed out with a scowl on his face. His Mother was standing at the door, barking last minute instructions. As the boys hurried down the street, Priscilla yelled out, “Good luck, lover boys!”

  ***

  By mutual agreement, the four young moviegoers were to meet in front of the Vagabond Theater ten minutes before the double feature was set to begin. After some back and forth, handled by Jerry and Candy, they settled on a day when Old Yeller and Gunfight at the O.K. Corral were playing.

  Candy and Millie were standing in front of the Vagabond when the boys walked up. Inaudible greetings were exchanged by Woody and Millie while Jerry and Candy just smirked at each other before they all marched inside like little toy soldiers.

  Inside at the refreshment counter, Candy took charge, ordering a large container of popcorn, a bottle of Squirt and a box of Atomic Fireballs before turning to Jerry with a look that said “Time to pay up, big boy. This date was your idea!” Woody smiled nervously and looked inquisitively at Millie who said softly, “Nothing for me, Woody, but thanks.” Woody glanced behind the glass case at the box of Black Jack Taffy, his usual movie fare, but refrained when he looked over to see Jerry frantically pointing to his teeth and shaking his head no. Woody got the message.

  As they moved into their aisle, Candy took off her coat and Jerry’s eyes bulged out. She was wearing a tight white sweater and had borrowed one of her older sister’s push-up bras. For a moment, Jerry imagined that he was looking at 18-year old Brenda Porfumo. Remembering his Mother’s advice, Woody helped Millie with her coat and noticed that his modestly-attired date in a cardigan sweater seemed embarrassed by her provocative friend.

  Seating arrangements had been negotiated by Candy and Jerry as well. Candy had insisted that the girls be in the middle and Jerry had countered that Candy would be seated to his right. Jerry has selected the back row for maximum privacy but Candy vetoed that choice almost immediately. They compromised on a row near the back and Jerry concluded, disconsolately, that this was not Candy’s first movie date.

  During Old Yeller, Woody and Jerry leaned back in their seats and craned their heads to exchange furtive glances of exasperation whenever the girls leaned forward and whispered, seemingly oblivious to the gesticulations behind them. When the girls broke their huddle and sat back, the boys resumed the poses of obedient choir boys. And so it went for what seemed like an eternity for the two incipient lovers.

  Any early romantic intentions were stymied by the tear-jerker ending to Old Yeller. During intermission, the girls disappeared into the restroom and Jerry said, “Let’s hope they regain their composure, Woody, or we won’t get anywhere today.” Woody shrugged and wondered if he had wasted his money.

  It wasn’t until well into the second feature that Jerry got courageous and made his well-rehearsed move. Woody glanced over and saw Jerry yawn and said to himself “He’s going to do it.” After another yawn, a sound much like a growl slipped out from Jerry’s mouth which made Candy glance over at him with an annoyed look. Jerry smiled nervously and then stretched as if he was just waking up from a nap. He raised his arms over his head and slowly lowered them while draping one over the back of Candy’s seat, careful not to touch her. Jerry grinned triumphantly while staring straight ahead. Candy was busy shoveling popcorn into her mouth and didn’t’ seem to notice.

  Woody’s eyes were frequently darting to his left not only to monitor Jerry’s progress but also to determine the position of Millie’s hands. Almost since they had sat down, they had been folded neatly on her lap as if she might be getting ready to pray. Woody was starting to feel desperate.

  Then, Millie’s hands were apart and Woody could see that she had moved her right hand off her lap to the edge of the seat. Was she giving him a signal, he wondered? Woody gulped and knew it was now or never. Slowly, he slid his left hand over until he felt it nudge Millie’s pinky finger. She didn’t recoil and Woody felt a thrill. If he had dared to turn his head, he would have seen the faint smile on her upturned mouth.

  When Jerry looked over, he saw Woody’s hand now covering Millie’s and they appeared to be cupped together. Yes, he concluded, there were actually holding hands! Emboldened and impatient, and feeling that he had lost ground to his best friend, Jerry edged his right arm off the back of Candy’s seat and lightly touched her shoulder. The popcorn box was now on the floor in front of her and her hand was deep into the box of Atomic Fireballs as if she was searching for a prize. When she sat back abruptly, she bumped into Jerry’s arm and frowned but said nothing. Jerry refused to retreat and held the territory he had gained. He even thought about applying a little pressure to Candy’s shoulder but decided not to test her any further. After all, it was a first date and he had matched Woody’s advances in accordance with their agreement.

  Outside the theater, Candy took charge again before the boys could say anything. “Thanks for a delightful afternoon, gents. We can see ourselves home without an escort” she said with peremptory authority. The boys were speechless and, in fact, had not thought ahead to what might happen once they exited the theater. As the girls walked away, Millie looked back at Woody and, with a beatific smile on her face, mouthed “bye”. Jerry said nothing but scowled as the boys turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

  ***

  Later on that day, the boys agreed that they had both been triumphant but Jerry insisted for days afterward that his maneuver to Candy’s shoulder was much more difficult that Woody’s clandestine clasping of Millie’s hand. Woody let it go, still aglow with the image of Millie’s angelic smile outside the Vagabond Theater. He had almost forgotten about the naked beauty on velvet in Jerry’s basement.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Back to the Library

  Miss Loretta Smith saw Jerry march into the library right past her like a young man on a mission. Their relationship had cooled since that incident last year when she had indiscreetly invited him to her house for private tutorials. Frequently mocked as “T-Shirt Smith”, the flat-chested librarian had been going through a difficult period in her adult life back then as she plodded inexorably toward spinsterhood. To this day, she regretted her indiscretion with Jerry and while nothing improper had occurred, she admitted to herself that her actions, if not her intentions, had been inappropriate.

  After a few minutes, Jerry was standing in front of Miss Smith’s desk with a deferential look on his face, pushing his glasses up on his nose with one finger. Miss Smith made Jerry wait for a few seconds before she looked up and asked, “What can I help you with, Gerard?”

  Soon, Jerry was poring through thick reference books and taking copious notes. His thirst for knowledge had never really been slaked and he was quickly immersed in recent German history.

  ***

  Jerry was no longer distracted by the nude goddess or Candy Porfumo and quickly felt comfortable in the quiet solitude of the library’s darkly-paneled research room. He had been lazy of late and it felt good to be back within the hallowed confines of his old sanctuary. As he delved into one historical tome, he learned that long before World War II, primarily in the 1920s and 1930s, Germany issued gold bearer bonds to investors in the United States. The bonds were so-named because they were originally redeemable in gold. Considered a great investment, many Americans took the plunge and even President Coolidge urged their purchase as a sound investment.

  When Adolph Hitler came to power, he refused to honor these gold-backed bonds, having other plans for the country’s resources. Invest
ors quickly panicked, the value of the bonds plunged and Hitler’s Nazi henchmen at home and abroad swooped in to buy a large quantity of the bonds for pennies of the dollar, stashing them in bank vaults throughout Germany.

  After the big war, an international treaty established procedures by which these pre-war bonds would be honored by the new German government. One key stipulation was that the holder had to provide proof that the bonds were not “physically present” in Germany on January 1, 1945 or later.

  ***

  Jerry was excited as he hurried from the library, eager to share his newly-acquired knowledge with Woody. Parlor City had been a dull place since he and his best friend had their succession of adventures the previous summer. Well, those events now seemed like distant memories, at least for him.

  ***

  Jerry caught up with Woody while he was finishing up his weekly paper route collections. “Ready for a little excitement, pal?” Jerry said excitedly.

  Woody looked skeptical and said, “Not sure I can afford another movie date so soon, Jer. You haven’t spoken to Candy already, have you?” Jerry jumped back a step and held up his hands. “Are you kidding, Woody? That conniver cleaned me out. Did you see all the stuff she ate? And then popping those Atomic Fireballs as a defense – I was afraid to get close to her. No, I’m talking about the German bearer bonds. Remember when your Mom mentioned them and then quickly changed the subject?”

  “Yeah, so what?” said Woody, with a distant look on his face, suddenly thinking of the demure Millicent Coyle, who hadn’t eaten a thing at the movies. The heck with that nifty new Polaroid instant camera he was saving up for, he said to himself. All he could envision now was sitting in the darkened theater again with sweet Millie by his side.

  “Listen to me, Woody, it’s important. I’m telling you something fishy is going on and I intend to find out what it is. All that hush-hush talk about German bonds that your grandfather was supposedly babbling about. Those bonds could be worth a gazillion dollars, maybe more.”

  “Uh, weren’t you going to ask your Father about them? What did he say?” Woody asked, trying to show some interest in what Jerry was saying. His namesake had never acted like a grandfather and, try as he might, Woody could not conjure up any sympathy for him. “Yeah, well I wanted to do a little research first but now I’m definitely going to talk to him,” Jerry said decisively.

  The boys walked into Lattimore’s Bakery and got two Boston crèmes at half-price, the afternoon special on stale doughnuts. As they walked home, the image of Millicent Coyle danced in front of Woody’s eyes. After a few minutes, Woody asked, “So, if she hadn’t been eating the Atomic Fireballs, you were actually going to make the next move on her?” “Oh, for sure, Woody. For sure” said Jerry with a look of supreme confidence as he draped his arm over his friend’s shoulder.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Wattles in Tampa

  Mildred Wattle was puzzled and even a bit concerned about the recent behavior of her beloved husband. After his embarrassing resignation as Mayor of Parlor City, he seemed to have accepted his demise with a kind of calm, measured acknowledgement of the fate that had befell him. And to have avoided the humiliation of a public trial, and then possibly prison, why that was tantamount to victory, wasn’t it? Still, she feared that absence from the daily political fray had softened her husband and she was determined to fortify his resolve for the future.

  When Adelbert had suggested a vacation in Florida, away from the unpredictable early spring weather in Parlor City, she had agreed almost immediately. They still had the problem of Woodrow Braun hanging over their heads but the saving grace was that his credibility was negligible after his stroke. And now, that empty suit Stewart Traber, who they had propped up for his entire political career, had re-entered their lives with a new scheme.

  Mildred had envisioned their trip south as an opportunity for uninterrupted relaxation but she had been no match for the allure of the Tampa gambling scene. After a week at the El Dorado, Mrs. Wattle was ready to return home. Adelbert spent most of his time in the casino playing and losing at a game she had never heard of – the bolita lottery. Or he was jamming coins into the ubiquitous slot machines. Then, she heard some lady in the restaurant complaining about the bawdy house upstairs and that was the last straw. While she had no concerns about Adelbert on that score, the thought of a bordello connected to the hotel appalled and disgusted her.

  Adelbert, flushed and excited, tracked down his wife while she was lounging under an umbrella on the El Dorado’s rooftop pool. Without explanation, he urged her to return to their room and pack. Before she could enjoy the thought of returning to Parlor City, he blurted out, “No time to waste, dearie. I booked us on the 4:00 boat to Key West but our final destination is a surprise.”

  Not until they were safely on board the vessel would Wattle reveal to his wife that Traber had sent him a telegram that morning, urging the Mayor to meet him at the Riviera Hotel in Havana. Wattle was not prospering at the El Dorado’s rigged tables and had overheard conversations in the hotel about the superior gambling and cigars in Cuba.

  The next afternoon, as the S.S. City of Havana glided from Key West toward the Cuban capital, Mildred Wattle sat quietly stewing in the air-conditioned lounge thinking dark thoughts about Stewart Traber while the former Mayor paced the deck with anticipation, certain that his luck was about the change.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Cuban Cabal

  A few days after Stella’s snub of Errol Flynn, Siebert was walking through the casino when he stopped abruptly. He was almost certain he saw Mayor Wattle from Parlor City feverishly playing at one of his gambling tables and chomping on a cigar. Who else, he mused, could have concocted such a bizarre hairstyle with such limited resources and still have kept the meagre strands spread almost evenly across his dome? Siebert had met Wattle fleetingly but had never associated with him, leaving that task to his ill-fated and deceased partner at the Parlor City Institute, Frederick Hawkins. Siebert gazed with bemusement at the convoluted maze of hair that Wattle spread out over his shiny scalp. His moon-shaped belly was pushing out the bottom of his gaudy print shirt as he leaned in at the table to place his bet.

  Wattle looked clownish but not out of place with many of the other yokels who flocked to Havana looking for a little excitement. Gambling had a way of making otherwise refined and reserved men look foolish, especially when they started losing. “Like dogs in heat” said Siebert to himself with a mixture of contempt and gratitude.

  Siebert decided not to introduce himself to Wattle in his new role as Roger Devereux, as there was nothing to be gained at this point. If Wattle did recognize him, the ex-Mayor would be leaving paradise in a box or swimming with the fish. He decided to have Pedro confirm his identity and, if it was indeed Wattle, keep an eye on him. The bilingual Cuban found work at various resorts around Havana frequented by Americans and had proven to be useful tool to Siebert. Pedro was also discreet, as many wives and husbands had discovered during subsequent divorce proceedings.

  ***

  Gov. Traber sat in the Starlight Cocktail Lounge section of the DC-7 Star Service flight from Miami to Havana, sipping his drink from a silver goblet. Even before the plane landed, the aging lothario started to feel that libidinous tingle that was evoked every time he visited this plush, decadent playground for adults with money to spare. Natalie was already forgotten and he was ready for a new amorous adventure.

  For now, he was focused on the blonde stewardess in the tan double-breasted jacket and matching skirt that provided a tantalizing outline to her curvatures. She smiled as she walked past him, which emboldened Traber to give her an affectionate pat on the behind. After a few minutes, she returned and knelt down next to his seat. Another conquest, he thought, as a licentious leer formed on his lips. “Listen carefully, you swaggering windbag. I am tempted to report your ill-bred, boorish behavior to the Captain but will give you the benefit of the doubt, perhaps against my better judgment, because some
thing tells me you have taken similar liberties before. Instead, I am going to give you a bit of advice. Find a way to tuck in that sagging, wrinkly gobbler of a neck or button up your shirt.” She then pierced him with her sweetest smile before standing back up and walking briskly out of the lounge area.

  Traber’s attention span was short as was his sense of humiliation. Thirty minutes later, he walked into the Jose Marte’ International Airport terminal in Havana like a strutting peacock, patting his neck as if that gesture would magically tighten up the flabby folds. He was no longer smarting from the harsh, inflight rebuke he had just received. When he spotted a dazzling young brunette, he caught her eye, she smiled and he winked. That was enough for now, he concluded, pleased to see that he still had the touch and putting the bitchy stewardess out of his mind. He would check into the hotel and immediately go the pool to survey the scene. He was pretty sure that the Wattles had arrived ahead of him but they could wait. The hot Havana sun would add a much needed glow to his fading tan and provide a concomitant boost to his fragile ego.

  ***

  Siebert and Stella were back at their favorite table that evening sipping champagne under a lush palm tree in the open air restaurant when Gov. Traber walked in with Wattle and his wife. They were seated just behind them and to the left, allowing Siebert the opportunity to view them with ease whenever he turned toward Stella. Siebert had told Stella about spotting Wattle in the casino and had stressed that if the Wattles recognized either one of them, then the scheme that he had laid out for her that afternoon would end right there in Havana.