BRING ME A DONKEY A novel by Sheila Willar Copyright 2016 Sheila Willar ISBN 978-0-9867101-4-8 Untie them and bring them to me. - Matthew 21:2
CHAPTER 9 ............................ THE VOTE
On the night of the election, Erin, Kelly and Matthew gathered at her apartment to watch the results come in. Long into the evening they monitored the event, and when day broke onto the streets of Dublin the bold print on the headlines pronounced a surmounting victory for Mr. Lomman Buffet, and a dismal failure for Erin. Most of her online followers did not vote for her because she had no infrastructure in which form a new government, and they had seen enough of a non-partisan spirit in Mr. Buffet, to vote for him. Others had also voted for Lomman because he represented a fearless proposal for change.
“Look on the bright side,” said Matthew, “you can finish your degree now.”
“I suppose,” she sighed. She knew all along that no one really expected her to be elected, but there was a piece of her heart that was invested in making a difference, and now she morned its passing.
“Let’s go out for breakfast,” suggested Kelly with her usual light hearted enthusiasm.
“No. You guys go ahead. I need some time alone,” she replied with a quiver in her voice.
Matthew and Kelly were just about to leave when her phone rang. “It’s for you,” stated Kelly.
Erin waved her away indicating that she didn’t want to talk to anyone, as she huddled in a corner of the sofa.
Kelly stretched her hand away from her body and shook the phone as if it she wanted to get rid of it. “Take it!” she mouthed as she waved the phone in front of Erin's face.
Erin reluctantly took it and forced a polite, “Hello.”
“Good morning Ms. McBride,” sang Mr. Buffet cheerily as if he was calling to congratulate her.
“Good morning,” she replied blandly. She assumed he had phoned in order to gloat.
“I am very busy as you know. It’s going to be a hell of a day here,” he bragged excitedly. “I’m calling to make sure that you don’t change your plans. I’d like you to join our team and continue with your work.”
Erin didn’t know what to say. She wanted to hang up on him for how he manipulated her platform, but she also felt a deep yearning to stay in the game.
“Are you still there?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Matthew whispered to Kelly and asked who was on the phone and she told him that it was Mr. Buffet, to which his eyebrows curled and his shoulders tensed like a bull dog entering a fight.
“I don’t have much time,” added Lomman who waved off staff and reporters so that he could talk to Erin. “Come over today and I promise you’ll be given a significant roll in government.”
Erin’s jaw dropped. A chance to be a part of non-partisan reform was one that she couldn’t pass on. Suddenly she switched from depression to passion and Matthew and Kelly could feel the abrupt change in the atmosphere, and it concerned them.
“That’s quite an offer,” she mused.
”I’m making big changes around here and I want you to be a part of it. We would be unstoppable!” he announced.
Erin’s breath caught short. Her heart sank when she realized that he didn't want her ideas but that he was offering her a job in exchange for the chairs.
“I’ll think about it,” she answered glumly.
Lommman sensed the change in her tone and so he offered an olive branch. “You’ll have full autonomy. You can do as you please. Ireland needs you,” he pleaded.
Erin’s heart had been plucked like a tuning fork. The answer “yes” was on the tip of her tongue but all she could say was “I’ll call you back,” and she hung up the phone.
“You’re not serious,” cried Matthew. “You’re not actually going to work for that creep.”
Kelly could see that Erin’s mind was made up.
“It’s not what you think,” replied Erin.
“You’d be his puppet,” argued Matthew.
“It’s not like that. I have a real opportunity here.”
“He just wants your followers. Can’t you see that?” scolded Matthew.
“It’s not them that’s he’s after,” sighed Erin.
“What then?”
“Nothing. I’ve said too much,” shrugged Erin.
“What does he want?” asked Kelly softly.
“He wants the chairs?”
“What chairs?” asked Matthew who didn’t get the connection.
“He wants the Irish Blue Chairs.”
“What? How can you give him the chairs?” demanded Matthew.
“I have them.”
“What? Where?”
Erin nodded towards her bedroom.
Matthew’s face turned pale. He had sat on the Head Irish Blue chair and almost died as a result of it and the thought of being so near to the other nine was more than his courage could endure. With wild eyes he shouted, “You’re mad!” and he grabbed Kelly’s hand and rushed out of the apartment. When he reached the car he called Father Michael and explained the ‘situation’.
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Father Michael was alarmed and he immediately suspended his duties for the day and went straight to the office of the newly elected Taoiseach. It was not easy to make his way into the building because it was jammed with reporters. The noise was deafening but he managed to get the attention of one of the staff who thought it odd that a priest was so disheveled, and alarmed.
“Can I help you Father?” she asked.
“Yes. I need to see Mr. Buffet right away!”
“I’m sorry Father, but he isn’t available. There’s a lot we have to do today as you can appreciate.”
“Tell him it’s Father Michael!” he demanded.
“I’m sorry Father. But it won’t make any difference. He doesn’t need a priest today. He’s already won.”
Michael tried to calm his rage. The thought of Lomman Buffet using Erin and the Irish Blue Chairs to rule over Ireland was more than he could bear. The battle for Taoiseach was one thing and he could hardly care less, but the battle for the soul of his niece and of the country was another.
“I just need to see him for a minute!”
“Sorry Father.”
“I am the priest who was with him at the dinner party at Mrs. Mancinni’s. I was there when the police dragged him away unconscious.”
The woman paused and said, “Come with me.” She escorted Michael through the crowd and asked him to wait outside Lomman’s office. A few minutes later she opened the door and let him in.
“Welcome,” sang Lomman as he approached Father Michael with his hand extended.
Michael didn’t shake hands and found a place to sit. It was clear that he was exhausted and undone by the enormity of what was about to unfold.
“Let’s get right to the point,” began Michael. “You want my niece because she has the nine Irish Blue Chairs. What will it take for you to leave her alone?”
“You’re being very direct Father,” he said as he swaggered around the room.
“What will it take?” he repeated.
“I mean no disrespect but I’m sure she’ll do as she pleases without asking you.”
“She’s not the one bargaining with you. I am.”
“Pardon me Father, but she has the chairs and you don’t. She knows how to use them and you don’t. You won’t even touch them, whereas she soars in them. Your want her to give them up and I want her to embrace them. I’ve seen her. It’s as if she was made for them. So you see, I don’t just want her and the chairs, I want her ‘IN’ the chairs.”
“You won’t get away with it you know. It’s The ‘Law of Self Destruct’,” explained Michael. “It’s built into those chairs. A self regulating mechanism that ensures that evil will destroy itself. As soon as you convince Erin to use the chairs for your personal gain, the chairs will burn her up and she will die and you will be left with nothing.”
“Ah, but self destruct can take years.”
“The chairs don’t work like that. They have a very short fuse. I sat in one myself and within the hour I was almost consumed. I was moments away from becoming ashes.”
“That was you Father. You’re a jealous type. She’s not. And I’m not. Haven’t you wondered, how a person like me and a person like her can sit in the chair without being consumed?”
Michael said nothing. He was ciphering a new prayer.
“I’ll tell you how. Your niece has an honourable heart, and as long as she’s doing good, then she’ll stay in the chair. As for me, I can sit in the chair because I am smart enough not to make any demands. I can be an observer for as long as I want.”
“You must not entice her!”
“You should leave now Father,” said Lomman with anger in his voice. He walked to the door and opened it wide.
Michael stood up and said, “What if I can give you something more valuable?”
“I don’t want any of your useless religious relics,” mocked Lomman.
“What if I have something more powerful than the nine chairs?”
Lomman closed the door. “Go on.”
“First you have to promise to let my niece go and to never contact her again.”
“Your niece is a big part of my future.”
“Not if you want more power than you could imagine.”
“That would be a lot of power Father,” laughed Lomman as he circled the priest and walked around his desk.
“What could you possibly have that would make me let go of nine Irish Blue Chairs?”
“First you have to swear that you will have no further contact with Erin. None. Never again. Not a single word. Not in person. Not on the phone. Nothing.”
“Done.”
“I mean it. If you see her on the street you’ll turn the other way.”
“Done. So what is it? What’s so powerful that I should give up one hand of gold for another?”
“The Head Chair.”
“What do you mean?”
“There is a tenth chair. The Head Chair. At Mrs. Mancinni’s dinner party it was missing.”
“I thought I sat in the Head Chair.”
“No. It was not at her house that evening.”
“You want me to give up nine chairs for one?”
“The power of the nine added together is not even a small fraction of the power of the Head Chair.”
“And you have this chair?”
“No. But I know where it is.”
“Then tell me!” demanded Lomman impatiently.
“When you agree to my terms,” insisted Michael.
“What do you want? You want me to sign it in blood?”
“Not that you have any,” sneered Michael.
“I’ll agree,” snorted Lomman.
“No,” replied Michael. He pulled out a cross from his pocket and held it out for Mr. Buffet to take.
“I don’t want that.”
“Take it and swear on it that you’ll never contact Erin again.”
Lomman cursed but eventually he took the cross and swore on it to leave Erin alone.
“Now tell me where the Head Chair is!”
“It’s in Jerusalem. That’s all I’m saying. For a person like you it won’t be hard to find. Just mention my name and you’ll get what you want.”
Lomman sat down behind his desk and dreamed about the kind of power that he had always wanted. Father Michael tried to get his attention but he was lost in thought. Having done what he came to do, Michael left and closed the door. The sound of the clang in the latch brought Mr. Buffet back to his senses and when he realized that he still had the cross in his hands, he threw it in the garbage container where it lay against crumpled telegrams of congratulations.
………………………………
Captain White was growing impatient and he wanted to catch Rettel and interrogate him.
“We’ve got him, Sir,” yelled one of the agents enthusiastically.
“Put him on screen!”
“Yes Sir.”
“Where is he?” demanded Captain White.
“He’s here in Dublin. He’s with Ansel. He’s at her apartment right now.”
Captain White made a phone call and dispatched special forces to capture Rettel. The entire room watched the display as they followed the agents who in turn followed the ‘bread-crumbs’ that Rettel had left for them.
The agents arrived at Erin’s apartment and forced the door open with a crash. Erin was startled and jumped back from the men as they flooded the room.
She had invited Rettel to her place to ask him for advice about Mr. Buffet, and with just a few wise words he had helped her reclaim the peace that Lomman had so desperately tried to steal. Rettel’s voice sounded like a breeze in the Aspen trees, like millions of tiny hands clapping softly about the presence of God. He told her that when her heart was right, she could accomplish anything that God called her to do, with or without the Irish Blue chairs.
The agents locked their eyes and guns on Rettel as he backed away from them towards the large plate glass window. The outside light was brilliant as it streamed over his shoulders.
“Stay where you are!” shouted an agent whose finger twitched nervously on the trigger.
The light from outside grew brighter and brighter making it very difficult for the men to see. Suddenly a shadow crossed the room as Rettel flexed his wings and disappeared.
The agents rushed to the window but Rettel was gone.
“Search the rooms!” yelled the commander as the men spread out in a race to find him.
Erin winced as she feared that they would find the nine chairs in her bedroom.
“He’s not here Sir,” they yelled from the corners of her apartment.
Captain White watched the screen as Rettel’s crumbs moved to the park near Erin’s apartment.
“Go! Go! Go!” yelled CaptainWhite into the earpiece of the commander. “Get him!”
The agents rushed out of Erin’s apartment as fast as they had come in and surrounded the park. They ushered parents and children out as they crept slowly into the centre where Rettel’s ‘crumbs’ had taken them.
“There he is!”
Rettel sat by the fountain holding a clutch of silver balloons.
“He’s holding balloons,” yelled the commander to Captain White. “Wait. He just let them go.”
“Let what go?”
“The balloons. They’re floating up. They’ve disappeared. Their gone!”
“Never mind the balloons. Grab him!”
Captain White watched the screen as the agent’s closed in around Rettel, and in a blink, he had disappeared again, and his ‘bread-crumb’ trail shot into outer space.
“What happened? What happened?” screamed the Captain.
“He’s gone! He disappeared. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Captain White stomped his feet and cursed. He pounded tables and spun around and cursed again until his throat ran dry. Finally he summoned enough strength to calm down and he closed his blood shot eyes.
Captain White’s office continued to track Rettel for months but they soon gave up because it was hard to defend spending resources on someone or something that travelled at the speed of light.
………………………………
Inspector Link ran tests on the slipcovers and cushions from Mrs. Mancinni’s house. The lab report stated that there were shards of a glass-like mineral but that no one could identify what it was. The report also said that the fibres were lighter than air and that once they were released from the cushions, they floated away. Inspector Link knew that whatever was under those cushions was most likely the cause of the symptoms that the candidates experienced at the dinner party. However, he also knew that he would never be able to prove it. Therefore he returned the fabric to Mrs. Mancinni’s laundry service and called it a day.
………………………………
Father Michael, Kelly and Matthew rushed to Erin’s apartment and helped her replace the damaged door.
“He disappeared into thin air?” asked Matthew as he hammered the last hinge into place.
“Into thin air,” repeated Erin.
“And he took the nine chairs with him?” asked Father Michael with a lump in his throat.
“All nine.”
“Then its over,” smiled Kelly.
“Back to school tomorrow,” confirmed Erin.
“Erin the Architect,” mused Matthew. “Sounds better than Erin the Taoiseach.”
“Agreed,” sighed Michael.
“I think she would have been a great Taoiseach,” countered Kelly.
“I think I’ll do it different next time,” suggested Erin.
“What do you mean next time?” asked Matthew and Michael in unison.
“Let’s go eat!” sang Kelly with a dance in her step and everyone eagerly followed her out.
Erin closed the door and paused to see how it looked from the other side. She used the edge of her sleeve to wipe off a smudge and then hurried to catch up with the others. As she walked towards the car, a blanket of crisp leaves swooped in from the street and swirled around her ankles. She was sure she heard them say: