Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

I’m Pink Lady Apple and my friend Deviled Yeggs suggested that I record each project that I set up in the hopes of reforming the people who continue to work for Lily the Pink Enterprises.  If for no other reason, it would show how God is at work.

Pardon me if I do not get the details perfectly recorded.  I started this file at nearly the end point, so my memory may be rusty.  Maybe my story telling can take over.

It all started innocently.  My son, Boaz Salmon Yeggs, mayor of the big city of Tracy, dropped in to visit.  He was sitting in my visitor’s chair when I came into my office one morning, very early.

He rose from his chair and gave me a nod, “Good morning, Mother, err, I really don’t know what to call you.”

I laughed, “Otto and Poached have opted to call me ‘Mom.’  Their biological mother rarely accepts them as visitors.  She is afraid to have Poached and Callie over because Callie may have bird germs on her.  It’s a mess.  So, the boys are adopting me, I suppose.”

Boaz nodded, “So, Mom it shall be.”

I sighed, “Oh, my, so formal.  Are our conversations going to always be like I am talking to the mayor?”

Boaz smiled and looked away, “No, Mom, it is hard getting used to talking with you face-to-face.  The abbot told me who my mother was when I turned eighteen, but with this place as a brothel, and you thought to be the madam, he suggested that I not contact you.  Then Gwen Quinn came by to come clean on what was going on and we started texting through a burner phone that Gwen had purchased.  Or maybe she got it from her boyfriend.  How are they doing, by the way?”

I giggled, “GrandPa and Gwen are practicing their ballroom dancing.  Gwen was clumsy at first, but she is starting to become relaxed in his arms.  Now that they are practicing fully dressed, they let me watch.  Gwen was afraid that she would trip over her maid of honor gown, so they are now dancing in similar styled clothing.  GrandPa spends the night, but from the evidence, he still sleeps in a cot in her room and not with her in bed.  The day after dance practice, he trundles off to his mountain getaway.  They are very comfortable.  And I think they are very happy with the arrangements.”

I looked at Boaz, but he kept averting his gaze, not making eye contact.  “Boaz, Son, why are you here?”

He huffed, “Wow!  That was abrupt.”

I smiled, “You do not come to my office that often, but today, you are here before the sun came up.  You are lucky you did not find me still in bed.”

He raised his hands in surrender.  “Mom, I need someone to be by my side at the wedding.  Yes, during the wedding, I will be splitting the officiating with Rev. C.S.L., but at the rehearsal dinner and the two receptions, I have been told by my mayoral staff that being alone will be awkward.  Growing up in a monastery, we had few weddings – to date, none.  There are a lot of monasteries that have made it a big business, renting out space for the wedding.  It might make a great venue, but the abbot and the previous abbot preferred solitude rather than making money.  By the way, why two receptions?  One for each married couple?”

I shook my head, “No.  I announced the mission as the destination before thinking things through.  There are many of the residents who have substance abuse issues.  They do not allow alcohol on the premises.  Gwen and I have been trying a sparkling hard apple cider, like a cider version of champagne, just for the wedding, but we cannot do it there.  Since the mission residents wanted the entire wedding experience, we are having the wedding cake cutting and non-alcoholic cider and punch and other things at the mission.  Then, we are coming here and popping the corks, our version of the bubbly and some very expensive champagne, but do not tell your biological grandfather.  He has not wanted us to spend much on their wedding.  But we want you and Rev. C.S.L. at both places as well as the entire wedding party.  The same ceremonial dances, but then we settle down to the usual party.  The employees will fill the place here, so both venues will be packed.  I am afraid the wedding will be standing room only.  The vows are short, and I hope you and the reverend keep your comments short too.”

Then I gave him a side glance, “Boaz, I think you have someone in mind.  Who is she?”

Boaz sighed, “Mom, I came here to ask if I could invite Sandy Beech.”

I chortled, “That almost sounded like I was her father, and you were asking for her hand in marriage.  Boaz, she is an employee of mine.  All my employees feel like family, but for a date, you have to ask her, not me.”

Boaz turned red, “I know that you are very protective.  And besides, I have never gone on a date before.  I went home to the monastery every night while in college.  I think everyone figured that I would live there forever and be a monk like the rest of them.  But, pardon my naivety, but how do I ask her out?”

“Oh, boy.”  I cleared my throat.  “Your father and I never really dated.  We sort of got carnal at the onset.  I would think you should just ask her.  She is already on shift.  As head of security, she is already at work.  I can buzz the intercom and she can be here within seconds.”

“And have my mother watch me make a fool of myself?!”

“Boaz, you are the mayor of Tracy.  Do not be as formal as you are in front of the television cameras but use that confidence.  Simply ask.  If she has no interest in you, she will let you know.  There are many more fish in the sea, especially in this building.”

Without getting a response, I pressed the button.  I needn’t say anything. Sandy (Cassandra) Beech always wanted face time when I buzzed her.  Boaz turned even more red than before.

Sandy burst into the room.  “I heard you had a visitor.  Do I have to escort him out?”

Boaz arose from his chair, but he was mute, maybe a little squeak.

I said, “Sandy, I would like you to meet Boaz, my son.  Please, sit down.”  They both did so.

It got very quiet.  I was wondering if I would have to ask Sandy out on a date, instead.  Boaz finally cleared his throat.  “Sandy, I have only been here a few times and you always seem to be around when I am here.  I have admired you from afar.  What I am trying to say is that I would like for you to be my date for the wedding receptions, but before that, can we have a date tonight.  To, to, ummm, get to know each other a little bit?  I have a long schedule today.  We might not get back from the date until late.  My driver will be driving us.  He doubles as my security, but I have a feeling in your position, you can handle yourself well.”  I was afraid Boaz was being too wordy without letting her respond.

Sandy smiled, “I would be honored, Mr. Mayor.”

Boaz turned yet another shade of red, “Call me Boaz, please.  Not Bo as it might be confusing with the former mayor being Beaux.”

Sandy was beaming, “Thank you, Boaz.  Is this casual or formal?”

“Let’s make it semi-formal.  We’ll go to a nice restaurant.  One of the top floor variety.  The clientele will be a much smaller crowd and we have a corner booth reserved.”

Now that was bold, having reservations before he popped the question, but then, he had never done this before.  He thanked me and her, and he ran out the door, excusing himself as he might be late for his morning briefing.  I wondered how he could be late, since everyone was briefing him, but he probably knew that they were all having busy days today.  I hoped he could concentrate, since he was expecting a first date in a few hours.  I explained to Sandy that she should understand the situation and keep this as a formal dining experience and a first date combined.  I asked her if she was ready to start dating and she nodded.

The next morning, about 1:00am, I was awakened by sobbing in my office area.  Since Scrambled and I were not yet married, he slept in the master bedroom upstairs and I slept in what had been my prison cell in my own home while Baldwyn Apple ran the brothel.  Thus, my bed was on one side of the room and the sobbing was on the other side of the room, at my desk.  The room was dark.

I had a remote that could turn on the lights.  Now, the sobbing stopped, and I saw Sandy in my visitor’s chair.  Luckily, I wear flannel pajamas to bed.  Gwen wanted me to wear the honeymoon stuff to see if I could sleep in them, but I felt that the honeymoon could wait until the honeymoon, for better or worse.

“Sandy, dear, I know you have a key, but you could have knocked.”

“I’m sorry, Pink Lady.  You may want to fire me anyway.  I totally blew it.”

I went over and leaned into her and gave her a hug.  “Let’s not be melodramatic.  Tell me what happened.  We might be able to salvage this for your sake.  Boaz is a big boy, but he had never been on a date before.  Did he take the relationship too far?”

“No,” Sandy cried, “I did.”

I sat behind my desk and started the recorder.  “Let’s start somewhere where we should have started long ago.  Let’s not worry about tonight just yet.  What is your dating history before now?”

This puzzled Sandy.  It caught her off guard.  She recovered quickly, “I only had one boyfriend for one year, my junior year of high school.  After that, I wrote off the entire gender as jerks.  Maybe that is why I agreed to work here knowing that I would be a prostitute at times.  The money was good.  The bonuses were good, and being the head of security, Baldwyn marketed me as the dominating type, but very seldom as a Dominatrix.  Although I loved that role.  I pretended the guy was my old boyfriend, and for guys with that fetish, they enjoyed it more as I got rougher.”  I redirected her back to the old boyfriend.  “Okay, I was sixteen, never been kissed.  My folks went to church every time the church was open, but instead of putting up with me grumbling next to them in the pew, they let me go to the balcony where the other teenagers hung out.  I was the wallflower who sat in the corner.  No one did anything rotten up there, but we were far from reverent.  The key was to keep it quiet so that we could keep doing what we were doing.  But I was doing nothing but watch the other kids horsing around.”

“Then, one fateful evening worship service on Sunday night.  The only other person in the balcony was a boy, a senior.  I was sixteen and a junior, one year behind.  No one had ever made out up there before, but because it was just the two of us, he sat next to me in the corner, half hidden in shadows.  He put his arm around me and we started kissing.  After a while, he had his hands under my blouse and he roamed everywhere above the waistline, just not taking anything off.  The bra was unhooked quickly, but that was it.”

I had to interrupt, “Your first experience with a boy was making out at a church service?”

“It was not one of my prouder moments, but the boy asked me out that next Sunday.  Since second base was in full play, I never really had a date where there was no making out, but we went slowly until I had sex with him during his graduation week.  That’s when he became a jerk.  We did the deed twice that Sunday night, always Sunday night after church.  As he took me home, he said that he was leaving for a three-week camping trip by himself before he reported to the Army.  He had never said he was joining the Army, and I never learned whose Army.  We had just had unprotected sex and he was dumping me.  Luckily, I did not get pregnant, but his camping alone was a lie.  He took two girls with him, and they both got pregnant.  By the time they knew, he was long gone.  He never married either one of them.  In a way, I was lucky that this ended my dating life.”

I nodded, “So, did you get to second base tonight?  Bra flying out the window?”

She stared out the window behind me.  “We did everything just as you suggested.  We went to a five-star hotel, to the top floor steakhouse.  Nice.  We both behaved.  We both talked.  He had no idea that I was a graduate of T.R.U.S.T. two years before he had finished, and I have a Poli-Sci degree.  I joked that I could leave you and be his political advisor.  He laughed and said he would use that if a reporter questioned the date.”

“But then came the ride home,” she began to cry again, but she gathered herself.  “He leaned over really close.  I reached in and kissed him.  I was aiming for the cheek, but he turned and we were kissing, full on, lips to lips.  I then started to flick my tongue and then we were getting more amorous.  Then, I nibbled his ear.  He leaned over to do the same and then the dumb lummox, … Sorry, then your son said, ‘If this is a first date, I can’t wait for the next one.’  At that moment, I pulled back and started to cry.  I went too far with my boss’ son on his first date ever.  Going too far on the first date was what ruined my dating life.  I had just ruined his.”  She put her head in her hands and began to sob.

I went around and helped her to her feet and wrapped my arms around her.  No words were spoken for a long time.  I finally said that we would let it rest for a couple of days and then I would invite Boaz back to my office and the three of us would talk it through.  She felt that she was not the right person to be Boaz’s date.  She thought of several of the ladies who she thought would be better.  I told her that she had been Boaz’s choice, and this was not over until we had our meeting.

Mid-afternoon that same day, Boaz called me to ask for a meeting of the four of us.  He was inviting the abbot of the monastery.  This might get interesting.

The next afternoon, the abbot arrived a little early, but he stayed in his car until Boaz arrived.  They came in together.  After greetings, the abbot, Father Philip, led the meeting with prayer, and then he asked, “I know Boaz had his first date two days ago.  I feel responsible for his upbringing, since I have been abbot since he turned fifteen.  In talking with him yesterday, I apologized for ignoring this aspect of his education.  Do we have anyone in this room who had a normal dating life?”

Sandy and I looked at the floor.  Father Philip continued, “Well, confession is good for the soul.  When I turned sixteen, I got my driver’s license and instead of going home, I drove to a girl’s house, a girl I was sweet on, but we had never dated.  Now, I had a car and a driver’s license.  The car belonged to my grandmother, but she never drove it.  It became mine.  The girl, fifteen-years old, was impressed.  She might have liked me too.  We started dating.  It was three dates before I leaned over and kissed her.  From there, we went to any kind of kissing from the neck up.  To be honest, I noticed that she had a fit body, but the only thing that I gazed at was her face.  I wanted to know how that wonderful brain of hers ticked.  Nothing below the neck mattered, until a few days after she turned sixteen.  We had been dating for months.  Sure, we hugged, but our physical relationship was from the neck up.  But that day after she turned sixteen, it was summer, and we were going on an all-day date.  We drove a couple hours from her home to a beautiful park.  We had packed a picnic lunch.  We walked down a nature trail for about an hour, simply holding hands.  Then, she turned to me and demanded to know why I had not noticed.  I asked, ‘Notice what?’  I had only noticed her face from the moment we started dating.  I looked to see if she had fake eyelashes or a different color of lipstick, but then she had to explain.  She was wearing a loose fitting, sleeveless blouse with only spaghetti straps over the shoulder.  Boaz, spaghetti straps are like shoelaces, thin cords tied over the shoulder.  Her point was that she was not wearing a bra.  In her opinion, if I were a real man, I would have made a move.  Now I was in uncharted territory that I never expected to be in until my wedding day.  But as she guided me in exploring the area that did not have a bra on it, my blood started to boil.  I loved this girl dearly.  For months we learned our likes and dislikes, but now that we had crossed a line, I lusted for more.  But I let her take the lead.  She talked about going beyond that first crossed line, but she said that she was not ready.  Then, I discovered that she was dating other boys and they had crossed that next line.  My girlfriend had wanted me to take charge, and I was respectful, not wanting to go beyond what she would allow – and secretly desiring that which she said that she did not want.  I know what you are thinking that she was a tease, but the encounter changed my life trajectory entirely, for the better.”

“Well,” Father Philip continued, “I graduated high school and went straight to the monastery.  My blood continued to boil in lust.  Dating girls and only holding hands had done nothing for me once my blood began to boil.  I got away from the fairer sex as much as possible until my blood never boiled again.  My point is that once you cross a certain line, you can never return and think it had never happened.  I would like these two lovebirds to take it slowly.  You have yet to cross a line.  I do believe you make a lovely couple.  Only time will tell if it is lasting.”

Sandy found her voice, “I, I, umm, I thought I had ruined everything by going too fast.  I started thinking of all the ladies here at Lily the Pink who would be a better date for you when you have to attend functions with someone at your side.  I am too impetuous.  I am far from patient. …”

Boaz held up a hand, “Sandy, I did not choose the other ladies here.  I chose you.  I have blocked out my calendar for the rest of the day.  I dismissed my driver.  If you can get off work, I know of a lovely park a couple of hours drive from here.  We can have a picnic lunch.  We can walk the trails and hold hands.  And then we can have a single kiss, if you would like one at the time.  And maybe, that single kiss will leave us wanting more.”

I added, “I think the security chief here at Lily the Pink has trained her staff properly so that she could take the afternoon off.  You kids have fun.  And remember what the abbot has said today.”

Sandy said, “But I have to go change.  I can’t go on a picnic in my uniform!”  And off she ran.

Credits

Sweet Sixteen and Never Been Kissed – a 1932 pop song by the Blue Mountaineers.

Once at church one Sunday evening, I was doing some work for a team that I led, I think setting things up for a community-wide Lenten Bible Study.  The only other people in the church were the middle school and high school youth groups.  The youth groups met downstairs.  I had the entire main floor to myself, or so I thought, but I was shocked when I walked past the doors leading to the sanctuary.  There was a mountain of athletic shoes piled high and no one in sight.  The doors opened and the associate pastor came out and whispered that the shoes belonged to the youth group children.  With the only ones able to see what the children were doing in the balcony during the worship service being the pastors, they had to put a stop to the shenanigans.  The pastor had read Exodus 3 to them about removing one’s shoes because they were on holy ground.  He wanted to drive the point home with the pre-teens and teens, that the balcony was holy ground.  They should act appropriately.  But I doubt if they were making out.  Would they if there were only two of them?

And I know that I just wrote in a post recently that I had no thoughts of writing any more of these Pink Lady Projects, but sometimes the stories ask nicely, and I go along with the idea.