206. The Sugar Hubby

 

206. The Sugar Hubby

It didn’t go badly, our sojourn in New York, despite the fact that we were accompanied by Alpin. Uncle Richearth loves this city, in both its fay and its mortal versions. He is very well acquainted with both. When Alpin asked him why we weren’t in Paris if what he wanted was to buy clothes for a female, he answered that only Americans went to Paris. “Even today, when it has changed so, it is crowded with the ghosts of Americans who think they have been good. D*** yankees go to Sirap, which is the infernal counterpart of Paris.”

“I had no idea there is a Paris in hell,” I said.

“There is nothing there isn’t there,” said my uncle, “only what there is, is always the evil counterpart. When you are there, it’s like those days when everything goes wrong.”

“Have you been there?”

“Hell, no! I wouldn’t be caught dead in Sirap. I’d rather wander in the fog till the end of time like Jack-o-lantern. Well, once I did have to go there to retrieve some people that shouldn’t have been there, but I didn’t go in deep. I gathered these people and we hit the exit. Not I, but some of my ex wives were familiar with the place. They told me stories. One has to have friends even in hell, Arley. Well, friends what one calls friends, I have better ones out here in Fay New York. And we´re going to see some.”

The friends we first got to see were some Dutch dwarfs. Uncle Richearth used to go bowling with them when he was a kid and now they sold him stunning diamonds. They recommended a restaurant when Uncle Rich told them about Alpin. It’s name is Van Winkle’s.

“I don’t know anthing about Dutch cuisine except for that round cheese dressed in red that tries to fool you into thinking it is a ball so you won’t eat it,” said Alpin. “It´s likely no one does know. The Dutch are  probably nobody in the world of gourmets. But I am willing to give those clogwearers a chance to surprise and delight me.”

The restaurant was the best place we could have gone to, our circumstances considered. It was not very poshy. Just a lot of wooden furniture all over the place and tiny windmills decorating the tables next to little vases with wee tulips. The waiters said we didn’t need to consult the menu. They would serve us a long and wide selection of everything on it. On our table there was a large trayful of fried potatoes, what everybody except the French calls French fries. There was also a bowl of mayonaisse next to it. This was supposed to be an appetizer. When Alpin grabbed hold of the tray and poured the fries into his mouth, a very small dwarf  leaned over him curiously. Alpin grabbed the bowl to down the mayonaisse too, but before he could finish that, the dwarf said “Oops!” and sprinkled some glittering dust on it. Alpin swallowed it anyway, probably thinking this was salt. Then he said, “Clumsy! Bring some more!” And then he fell fast asleep. Conked out, to be exact. The dwarfs laid him on the long bench he was sitting on and placed an orange cushion under his head.

“And now, gentlemen,”they said to us. “here’s the menu. Order whatever you please. This fellow will sleep till you choose to wake him. He will dream with stamppot and bitterbollen, smoked sausages and pickled herring, oliebollen, apple pie with tons of whipped cream, pancakes with both sweet and salty toppings , lobster from the northern seas, pea soup, even a most abundant rijsttafel  and much, much more. And he will wake believing he has eaten more than a league of football teams of giants. This dream banquet is guaranteed to go on for twenty years, should you choose not to wake him sooner. And it is the cheapest thing on our menu. One needn’t worry even about the bill. You order what you like and enjoy your  food in peace now, sirs.”

The waiters then took our order and my uncle and I did eat at ease, our meal only affected by Alpin’s snores. The waiters suggested we leave him there dreaming away while we went shopping. They also said that if we gave them an address, they could send him there at the time we wanted them to, always within the next twenty years, of course. Our uncle asked them not to tempt him and said we would be back to fetch Alpin in the evening. All the salespeople  in the shops we visited, both fay and mortal,  knew Uncle Rich and yelled hooray when he walked in. In fashion designer Lukinotakis’ salón, we met Moth, who was working there since the day before yesterday, and who helped us choose the best of the best to be had, including the most femenine and romantic wedding dress the Greek had ever designed. Considering what Uncle Rich spent, I’m sure this made Moth the employee of the year. In brief, I watched Uncle Rich buy Mathilde all kinds of luxurious garments, a pile of jewels and even a couple of magic treasures. Whenever we left a shop, everyone there, including the other client, gave him a standing ovation, some calling out “Congratulations!” and things like  “Your intended will love you madly, sugar hubby! Where do they make them like you? Have me instead!”  Uncle Rich laughed and waved a hand like a king, and seemed to enjoy the commotion he created. And after that, he and I, and Alpin too, returned home happy. Alpin, of course, was completely unaware that he had been hoodwinked by the Dutch dwarfs.

Two days after this, the three of us were together again, on our way to Clepeta and Finisterre’s wedding. Fishfin had hired an enormous, first class  bus to take his guests to the site of the wedding.  It had a cocktail bar and was drawn by cuélebres. Cuélebres are huge, Asturian winged serpents with wings like bats and two tails and gold crowns on their heads. Among the guests to be transported were my maternal grandparents. My grandfather was in a vile mood because my grandma had forced him out of his seclusion so he would assist.

“Finisterre has been your loyal employee for years. You owe him this. So stop roaring like a testy lion and get into the bus once and for all,” Grandma said to her husband.

“I, ride in a bus? I? Drawn by serpents unknown to me? Where is my dragon-drawn chariot?”

“Get inside, I’m telling you! That’s enough fussing, AEternus. How annoying you can get to be! And stop calling the groom a traitor. He has a right to marry and live where he pleases.”

“I? I, annonying? I? I never annoy anyone. I always try to keep out of everyone’s way! It´s others that insist on persecuting me!”

“Come on, Dad, get into the bus, or we’ll all be late,” said Richearth to his father. “It’s not that big a deal. You’ll only be gone for a few hours out of eternity.”

“Yes, it is a big deal. And to make matters worse, you’re going to marry too.”

“I’ve married a thousand times and you know very well I have never once invited you to one of my weddings. I’ve done all I could not to bother you. But this time, I’m to have a genuine wedding, and Aunt Cybela says it won’t look genuine unless you are present.”

“That woman!” mutterd Grandpa. “If I had the time for it, I would tell her what I think of her!”

Uncle Richearth managed to get Grandpa into the bus, practically  shoving him into it and the winged serpents were able to take off. But my grandparents and Uncle Rich spent the ride arguing with each other. Uncle Rich kept counting up to ten before he spoke until the arguing heated up so that he turned on his mother.

“Why the devil are you going to get married again? And more noisily than ever?” Grandpa wanted to know.

“Yes, that’s true,” said Grandma. “Haven’t you realized yet, child, that marriage isn’t for you? Why bother?”

“Stay at home and play golf like I do!” suggested Grandpa.

“I don’t think this boy can play golf,” said Grandma. “The grass would grow out of hand everywhere about  and there would be no finding the golf balls.”

“Try chess!” suggested Grandpa.

“You know, maybe we should let Richie do things his way. This time he is trying to do things right,” said Grandma. “But I can’t help fearing he hasn’t picked the right mother-in-law. How can you put up with that bossy  woman, dear?”

“Be so kind as to tell the lady sitting beside you that if I have problems with my wives it´s through her fault,” Uncle Rich said to Grandpa.

“Don’t call your mother that lady, Richie,” said Grandpa to Uncle Richearth, surprisingly mildly.

“But it’s as if she weren’t my mother. I’m her youngest child, the baby, and she’s always treated me like the rest.”

“No, no! Not again! Don’t get started on that!” said Grandpa.

“I have a right to seek affection elsewhere if I don’t receive enough at home,” pouted Uncle Rich.

“Don’t be silly. You yourself admit I treat all of my sons equally, love you all equally,” Grandma defended herself.

“But this lady should have spoiled me more because I was her youngest. That’s how it´s supposed to be done!”

“I refuse to choose a favorite among my children!” said Grandma flatly.

“Listen son, you ought to know that a mother always spoils the weakest of her children more than the rest. That is not you. Let your mother be. I have spoiled you more than anyone else, haven’t I?” said Grandpa.

“And why? Because I am the weakest. Is that it? I don’t create hurricanes, devastating fires or overwhelming floods. But maybe one day I won’t count to ten and will lose my temper for real and the earth will shake and open and everyone will see what I’m capable of. By the way, what could Evenfall do if he ever lost his temper? Cast a meteor at us? Turn off the sky. Yes, that might be it.”

“All this is very interesting,” said Alpin to me. He had been listening attentively instead of raiding the cocktail bar. “Thanks be that my mum has always spoilt me the most. But that´s because I´m the youngest, not because I’m weak.  If she hadn’t, I would be as crazy as your uncle. Hey, there, Richearth, why don’t you and I see which of us is tougher? You grow food and I will eat it. Let´s see who tires first. I defy you!”

“Don’t mess with me, kid,” said Uncle Rich. “If there’s something I have it’s resources.”

“That guy who says he’s your father can be arbiter. I don’t mind if he is related to you. He gives the impression of being respectable. So like a judge.”

When my grandfather heard Alpin defy Uncle Richie, he threatened to jump out a window of the bus and crash against the mountains below  if someone didn’t get Alpin out of there. Scarcity is Grandpa’s worst nightmare.

“Don’t be silly, AEternus,” said Grandma, making gestures to me so I would take Alpin away, “your threat won’t work with us. We know you have wings.”

Mercifully, the trip was short. As for the wedding, it  was lovely. The bride looked beautiful, the groom looked happy, Alpin gave the bride away just as he had been promised,  the guests behaved well and how could the banquet not be splendid? Finisterre’s colleagues saw to that. It was like a cooking contest where the participants were all winners.  The ceremony was held next to a lagoon and the Sun chose to assist. It didn’t rain until dawn, when we were all pouring back into the bus. Ah! And Clepeta threw her bouquet right into Uncle Rich’s lap.