The Von Bucati Mansion
By Dan Watt
Author of the e-books Ruby Queen and Sylvia on Kobo.com; and e-books Lucy and the Snivel Chair on Amazon.com
I haven’t included any clowns so far. The day of the clown might be over with IT coming out. Clowns used to be funny or sad. Ride monocycles, have squeaky noses, and do amazing acrobatics. Now all you hear from little kids is, “The killer clowns are going to get me!” But I say: “Long live Ronald McDonald!” as long as he’s vegetarian.
The limousine has stopped! Just as I have Michelle lying across my lap drawing circles around the hair on my chest from where she unbuttoned my shirt. Yoshima and Wanda laughed at Michelle’s antics but I can see the jealousy in their eyes as they constantly lean forward to show me their ample bosoms.
“Are we staying overnight?” I ask, running my hand along the curve of Michelle’s right thigh.
“Yes,” Wanda replies and I can hear the competitiveness in her voice.
“Yes,” Yoshima says circling her lips with the tip of her tongue.
The limousine doors pop open. Wanda and Yoshima push open their doors and I can see their skirts tighten around their asses. My hand slips nearer to Michelle’s inner thigh as the other girls stumble out.
“I guess we better clean up,” Michelle says sitting up. She smiles in a happy daze as she buttons up my shirt. “See you inside,” she says, before pressing the tip of her tongue against my neck. She playfully bites down on my skin. I run my hand along her bottom as she clamours out.
“Show time,” I mumble but it’s really hard to move while my vision is spinning.
When I get out the sun burns my eyes so I slip on my Burberry thin rimmed sunglasses on. I make sure the tail of my shirt is out so I can hide my open crotch and button up my suit jacket. The limo is parked in a very long curved driveway. The cottage is made of wood logs stained red with white framed windows. It has three storeys, each with white pained balconies. No one is outside but me. I stumble towards the double doors with their brass latched handles. It’s a couple of steps up to the doors and I’m finding it really hard to keep walking, but I must persevere, there is business and pleasure to be had inside.
Inside is a hall with an oak cabinet for coats and boots. Staircases go upwards on either side of the hall. Farther on in I can see a bartender standing behind a long maple wood bar. He’s wearing a white t-shirt with rolled up sleeves handing a shot glass to each of the girls.
As I step closer to the girls I see the room has six octagonal tables all made of poplar. The walls are all varnished white pine with an oak shelf three quarters of the way up. On the shelves are models of antique metal cars, trucks and tractors. Three chandeliers give the room a dim, romantic yellow glow. I squint and see at the very back of the dining room, leaning uncomfortably against a door, a familiar giant of a man with one brown oversized left hand and a hook on the other. Looking tiny in front of him is Mrs. Von Bucati or as I know her Elizabeth, and a peculiar individual with a hump. The humped figure is wearing a brown kangaroo jacket with the hood up.
I move closer to get a better look. Elizabeth is wearing a white dress shirt decorated with pink flowers that look like hellebores. Her blue slacks seem to sag and I see she has a black belt holding them up. Richard lee looks mortified and is sweating profusely. Poor him. I turn back to the girls.