Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

I’m Pink Lady Apple Yeggs 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.

I was at the bar in the Lily the Pink cider house break room.  There was no one on break.  I heard someone come in.  From her walk, I could tell it was my sister-in-law, Trinity Naomi Tesla Yeggs.  Since Gwen Quinn has been on her world tour, Naomi and I have spent a lot of quality time together.

“Hey, Sis,” she said, “You look a thousand miles away.”

I continued to stare at the floor.  “No, more like sixty-five hundred miles.  Gwen is in South Korea.  I’m going to be a mommy.”

“Are you pregnant?!” Naomi sputtered.

“No, those days are past.  Gwen has been collecting children and with Hugh McAdoo doing the paperwork, they thought I needed a little boy of my own.  With Hugh, paperwork is easy to manufacture.”

Naomi hugged my shoulders. “Great!  Gwen is coming home around Thanksgiving, and we will throw a big party.  Who is this boy, and how old is he?”

I looked in her eyes.  “His name is Joon.  It means talented, handsome, joy.  He was just born a few months ago.  The mother was a lady in Seoul who was investigating organized crime there.  She was caught and they did unspeakable things to her.  She got pregnant, so when the child was born they sent the child to an orphanage that is run by one of GrandPa’s rescued women.  Hugh was providing some of the intelligence for the investigation.  The mother wanted to stay and continue to work her contacts, but she was killed.  Joon had no one, and now I am a mommy.  I do not know what is happening anymore, Naomi.  And Gwen says that the Thai girl that they picked up is going to be my little girl too.  She is one year old.  Her name is Kanok, meaning gold.  I didn’t raise Boaz.  I just gave birth and then a few weeks later, he was gone, and I never saw him until he was sworn in as mayor of Tracy.  Now, I have a chance to be a mother, but I do not feel worthy.”

“Why, Sis?”  Naomi massaged my back.  “You will be great.  You will love them with all the love you have shown the children who were here for their middle school this past year.  You are taking care of Asha, Gwen’s little girl that they picked up from Africa.  You will show even more love to these two newcomers.  But you said Gwen had picked up more children.  Who and where from?”

I moaned as she hit the sweet spot in my back.  It is the only spot where there was pain that remained from my poisoning.  I had exceeded expectations in my recovery.  I still couldn’t run very far, only a few paces, but that one spot gave me trouble and Naomi knew exactly what to do.

I replied, “Valin is an Indian boy.  His name means Monkey King.  He is about two years old.  GrandPa’s rescue found out that a neighbor was thinking of having his legs chopped off so he could become a successful beggar.  GrandPa and Gwen paid the family enough to help them financially and rescued Valin in the process.  Thanh is a Vietnamese boy, about Asha’s age, maybe a few months older.  His name means Color of the Sky or a pleasing sound.  GrandPa is still not doing well after he got sick.  Gwen is staying with him in Seoul and Hugh is flying the children here. It is going to be noisy and Zuzka will have to remodel a bedroom into a nursery, and fast.  If they are our children, Scrammie and I will have to have them in the big house, but all the rooms are taken with offices and such.  The house was designed so that I could have a huge family, but Lily the Pink became my family.  And I still do not deserve this.”

I cried on Naomi’s shoulder.  “I’m glad you are the only one in here.  I have to be strong to show all these women that everything is okay.  For decades, I was the person that they came to see when they needed to cry.  With Baldwyn around, that was often.  They did not need an abusive client.  Baldwyn was an abusive wrecking crew all on his own.  Do you realize that this amusement park, as some in Tracy call it, was a brothel run by the Rotten Apple Gang just a year and a half ago?  There has been so much change in that time, and all these ladies came to me.  If they saw me faltering, then they might lose hope.”

Naomi shook my shoulders and demanded eye contact.  “You look at me.  You have so many strong women here.  They have been through hell, and they came out the other side.  Rely on them to take up the slack.  When Gwen returns, she will be the president of the company and you will be the CEO.  Both of you have to be able to delegate.  You have created a great organization with highly qualified people.  The Washington crew is learning quickly, but you have people here that have been making cider for over twenty years.  Trust them.  Have a big meeting and tell them what has happened and that you have just gone from having no small children to having two.  People get pregnant and they have nine months to figure out everything.  You have been a superhero for these people.  If you cannot be perfect, they will help you.  You have a company nursery here and Jochebed is marvelous.  Greta Grunge has helped too when she is not filling in as the company nurse on shift.  This can work.  We can do nothing without God’s help, but with God’s help we can do whatever he sets before us to do.  Right?”

I nodded.  “This has been a wild ride.  A year and a half ago, your husband and mine were rescuing us from Baldwyn’s clutches.  I easily paid the fines to get all my employees clear of any criminal charges.  I gave evidence that put away most of my generation of Rotten Apples.  And then Zuzka went to work creating the greenhouse and the water slides.  Of course, some of your friends at T.R.U.S.T. jumped on the idea for the designs.  Our only mistake, if it is one, is that with all the hydroponic gardens and sluices suspended in the greenhouse, and one of the tallest indoor waterfalls in the world, humidity control is nearly impossible, and we occasionally have our own weather system inside this huge place.  That brings Dr. Kildare here, and he and your old friend Mags are now holding hands when they sit in the stands at sporting events.”

Naomi nodded, “I have avoided her for years, so many bad memories.  But I check up on her now.  She is so grateful you made room for her.  I was wondering.  When the folks from Washington state leave, what will you do with the extra apartment space?”

“Every time I have a spare apartment, something else happens.” I mused, “God seems to provide the answers to questions like that.  I have already had to purchase the apartment complex further down the street.  Lily the Pink is expanding, and I still cannot rid myself of all the blood money that built all this.”

Naomi shook her head.  “My, my, you are certainly down on yourself today.  You keep saying that you are a modern-day Zacchaeus.  You have given back to all who you feel you have wronged.  Before you were ever free from Rotten Apple bondage, you paid back Red Delicious for all the capital expenditures he made in building the cider house.  Please, Sis, I would like to visit with the upbeat Pink girl for a while.  I have a meeting at the university in an hour.”

I nodded, but I still wasn’t convinced.  “Naomi, how many people out there in this world would do more with what I had to start with?  This house was built by my father who killed people for a living.  The cider house had been a chop shop where they disassembled or modified stolen cars.  And for twenty plus years, the house and the apartment building were a brothel.  I was rich when I was set free, but rich due to illegal activity.  I cannot give away enough money to spiritually money launder what I have.  And I need to have it.  All these ladies depend on it for their livelihood.”

Naomi put up one finger.  “Hold that thought!  I mean.  Hold onto that thought.  You started all this with having to be strong.  You are uncertain about your new job, being a mommy.  That scares you a little bit.  With just giving birth to Gigi at my age, I am right there with you, and I did it before.  All of that is understandable.  But you ended all this with where you started.  You need to be strong.  And by the way, ever since I knew you, you had your hair in a bun, always put together, prim, proper.  I have never seen you with your hair down.  It looks great.  Your hair is luscious and so long.”

I laughed, “All those years.  Gwen would clip off the split ends and then comb it and work it into a bun or something.  I was not allowed to leave, and we had no hair stylist.”

Naomi laughed, “Have you seen Gisele?  Her hair is about your length, and it looks freakishly strange for a woman of her age to have purple hair, but once you get used to it, it looks good on her.  It is either being married to Al or it’s the hair, but she seems a lot more confident.  Maybe you should try something like that.  Even letting the long locks flow is a great start.”

I shook my head, “Me?  In purple hair?  Running a company named Lily the Pink, I should have pink hair, but then Envy and many of her prostitutes have pink hair.  What do you think?  Should I go with orange and open a new product line?”

We both burst out laughing.

Then I got serious.  “Naomi, Scrammie won’t talk about the mother of Otto and Poached.  I’m sure you know.  I hear she lives in Tracy.  I have no interest in meeting her, but I am sure you know the story.”

Naomi had visible tears in her eyes.  She nodded.  “No one in the family talks about her except for Otto and Poached, and only then because they check up on her.  It is a very sad story.  If I tell you, please, say nothing to Scrambled.  That is one chapter of his life that he has put behind him, but I think having to raise two boys by himself grounded him.  If you need parenting advice, you have one in the bed next to you.”

I nodded both my agreement to be silent and acknowledgement that Scrammie was a good source of parental knowledge.

Naomi started, “What few people know is that Scrambled did not graduate with his class from high school.  He walked across the stage, shook the hand of the chairman of the school board, but he had a blank piece of paper instead of a diploma.  He had spent all Spring stealing jewelry for his girlfriend.  And don’t be feeling guilty.  He loved you, but he also forgot to show up for his exams.  His mother begged the school board to let him walk and pretend and she would hire a tutor so he could take his exams and then the diploma could be back dated to graduation day.  With a father in prison and mother who lost her business due to her husband’s mistakes, they felt sorry for her.  Scrambled’s English teacher volunteered to be the tutor for free.  She knew that the Yeggs had no money, and she did not want Scrambled to go out burglarizing homes to get the money.  Besides, she was quitting her teaching job.  She was going to marry an NFL football player she had dated in college.”

I looked confused.  Naomi continued, “Yeah, she was not the mother of those two boys.  Baldwyn prevented Scrambled from seeing you.  Scrambled was in a scattered state of mind.  He joined the Rotten Apples, hoping to have a chance to see you, but all he did was courier work.  Taking packages here and there.  But his love life went from all-consuming to nothing.  His tutor could not motivate him to concentrate.  She asked him what would motivate him, and he told her a kiss.  She agreed to that.  What harm in a kiss?  Right?  Then, after he was ready for his exams, he wanted to go to bed with her if he got an “A” in every exam.  She thought that highly unlikely, but she refused.  That might mess up her marriage to a guy making half a million each year, and potentially a lot more.  But she knew of another schoolteacher who the rumor mill said liked her boys young.  She called the woman and she agreed.  I am not using names here, but you can read the headlines from those years and figure them out.  The tutor’s husband is an assistant coach being considered each year for head coaching jobs.  The tutor runs a charity, a big one.  And the other teacher…  Well, that is a different story.”

Naomi breathed deeply.  I could tell she was wondering if she should continue.  “Scrambled made an “A” on all his tests, and the teacher in question came through.  They slept together, from what Scrambled said a few days in a row, kind of a honeymoon getaway without the wedding.  And she got pregnant.  When Scrambled found out, he jumped at the chance of marrying her, but she insisted on an open marriage.  Scrambled would have the child to care for and she would do her own thing.  You see, she liked her boys a bit younger than Scrambled.”

I gasped, “Oh!”

Naomi nodded, “Yeah.  She taught freshmen and sophomores for the most part, at least math and science that those grades usually take, with boys that were thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen.  Sophie is now a freshman, and loving it.  She is fifteen along with Margie, who skipped a grade and now a sophomore.  Of course, Blaise is the imp who skipped four grades, a sophomore at eleven, but he will be twelve in October.  So, you see the age of boys that she liked to victimize.  Her trick was to flunk a boy on an exam.  She would have the boy come in for a student-teacher conference and she would propose a physical encounter as a means of pulling up the grade, really giving the boy the grade he deserved in most cases.  She even did that while pregnant, but she took the Spring semester off to have the baby.  Then, when the next school year started, she noticed how hard Scrambled was working, both for his courier service with the Rotten Apples and as a father.  For a month or two, she lapsed on her birth control and exclusively slept with Scrambled.  It was the only two months that they acted like a married couple, no love there, just obligation on Scrambled’s part and a small amount of gratitude on her part.  Of course, she got pregnant with Poached.  Poached was a play on words, but Rotten was named for you.  You were, as most perceived, an influential member of the Rotten Apple Gang, and Rotten’s mother wanted Scrambled to remember that he never really loved her but loved you instead.  Until lately, Rotten lived down to her expectations.  But this time, as soon as she gave birth to Poached, she kicked Scrambled out.  Scrambled took the two boys and moved back in with his mother.”

I asked, “But what happened to the mother of my stepsons?”

Naomi shrugged, “What usually happens?  She played her trick on a good student.  How can a boy with high honors fail a math test?  He did what he was told to do to get the grade corrected, but then he told his father what happened.  Others came forward and she went to prison.  She served her time, and then moved back to Tracy.  She contacted her boys, but they had really never known her.  Rotten, now Otto, was only a year old when she left and Poached was just days old.  Out of obligation, her two sons recognize her on her birthday, but otherwise, they hardly ever go by her house.  She is not allowed to teach or tutor anyone.  She works at a family style restaurant.  If she had not moved into her parent’s home, she would not be making enough to survive, but she eeks out a living.”

I sighed, “So sad.  We had no one with that fetish here, but I have heard of it.  Of course, I know who you were talking about.  I had no access to the outside world, other than the Rotten Apples feeding me their exploits as we moved cash around.  But Gwen was allowed to shop for groceries.  She had an army to feed, and Baldwyn never questioned why she was gone so long.  She visited Boaz, mostly observing from afar.  And she read the newspaper, throwing it away before getting home.  Baldwyn would be angry if she brought the newspaper back to me.  He wanted me totally isolated except as the accountant for the mob.  If I was not going to be his girl, I would be his slave.  Odd, how that control over me gave me the information needed to put all those people away.  And being in control of the books allowed me to take my cider house profits and pay back Uncle Dellie for everything he had spent in building the cider operation and apartment building.  Funny, he never thought my cider business would succeed.  With the skeleton crew already having made a first batch of cider in Washington state, we have officially expanded.  And it tastes good.  Here, have a bottle.”

Naomi waved me off.  “No, I have a meeting with the chancellor, and he is a teetotaler.”

I suggested, “Take it for later.  Who knows.  After the meeting, you may need it.”

We laughed.  She took two bottles and walked out the door.  I went back to staring at the floor.  Off in the distance, probably in the greenhouse due to the echo, I heard bagpipes playing.  I checked the time.  Missy was off her shift and her man, Angus MacDougall, must be visiting.  I wondered if they ever went on real dates.  But why ask such questions?  Just enjoy the music.

Credits

The idea of this story came from an image of a woman staring at the floor while seated on a bar stool.  No open bottle or glass nearby.  Just a classy lady with long flowing blonde hair, with a downward thousand-mile stare.

As for the bun, my father’s mother, the one we called Mammy, was the most stately woman that I ever knew.  She had been a one-room schoolhouse school marm in her earlier years.  You could go nowhere in that quarter of the county who did not have relatives who had been her students, if older, the former students themselves.  As such, she carried her rail thin body erect in perfect posture.  Her gray hair was always in a bun.  But on one occasion, maybe because I was doing some home repairs for her and around at times when I normally was not there, she had let her hair down to comb it.  It reached her knees.  And even with her hair down, not a single strand dared to be out of place.

When dreaming up the character of Pink Lady Apple, the moral aspects were near polar opposites in early history.  Mammy made my grandfather go to college for three years before she consented to marry him, but the present Pink Lady, who is God fearing, stately, and always with self-control, was modelled after Mammy.  My temperament was more like my wife’s and my other grandmother, but Mammy was special in her own way.

The featured image is a photo of a painting that Mammy did of me.  It does not match the conversation in the cider house break room, but it was painted by the woman after whom I patterned Pink Lady Yeggs (nee Apple).