The Dusty Wayfarer — Ch 3
Bessie, who had returned late the night before, knocked on her mistress’ door at seven thirty with a cup of hot coffee; breakfast was an hour later. Julius spent this hour in the remodelled stables which he had converted into a gymnasium.
Bessie was a hereditary possession handed down by the maiden aunt. Well along in years, she should long since have been retired, but her fidelity and devotion made this impossible. She worked on, her labours lightened by Jada’s help.
The grounds and cars were cared for by Gus, a tall and ebony personage who slept out. Jada had called him Umslopogaas from early childhood. He was as devoted to the Winslows as Bessie, which caused her no small annoyance on account of him being ‘unn-airducated’. Upon state occasions, he acted as the Winslows’ butler.
That morning Bessie forgot to ask how her mistress had slept. It seemed the “illigant gintleman” had appeared in the kitchen at the unheard of hour of six thirty, the time Bessie began her work.
For the past decade she had bemoaned the absence of little Winslows running around the house, and no member of either sex ever called without being minutely appraised as to his or her eligibility.
‘And sure, Miss, ’tis that handsome he is,’ gushed the admiring Bessie, ‘and what with his comin’ into the kitchen so airly and unexshpected loike, and his “good marnin’ to you” so frindly loike, and…’
‘Good heavens, Bessie,’ broke in Jada, ‘Is Mr Fenta up? I didn’t expect him down before breakfast. Has he seen Mr Julius yet?’
‘Sure, and the two of thim are out in the shtables this blissed minit a shwingin’ away on thim bars and loike as not to break their blissed bones.’ Bessie informed her. She had never quite reconciled herself to Julius’ matutinal acrobatics.
Julius called from downstairs.
‘Jada, for the love of Pete, put something on and come down here, will you? If this bird springs any more surprises on me, I’m going to shoot him. I can’t stand any more.’ he ended plaintively.
‘What’s up now?’ asked Jada, hastily throwing on a bathrobe and snatching a look in the mirror; an unnecessary one as she had nothing to fear from an early morning scrutiny no matter how close.
‘Just everything.’ said Julius, as they crossed the driveway to the gymnasium, perspiration glistening from the early morning sun on his dark skin. ‘It just isn’t natural. It just positively isn’t!’
He opened the door. The former stables had been rebuilt. A hardwood floor laid, and the place fitted with all manner of athletic apparatus, in the use of which Julius had become very proficient.
Standing before them, dressed in a pair of trunks and a beaming smile, stood Fenta. And indeed, he was an extraordinary sight. In the role of Apollo he had been disconcertingly adequate, but now it was evident that the role of Hercules became him equally… a Hercules endowed with a sinuous grace and litheness of body; exquisitely proportioned limbs, and lustrous skin which any woman might have envied.
‘I ask you, is it fair?’ questioned Julius, enjoying his sister’s open admiration.
‘Get going, Fenta.’ he commanded after Jada had spoken a few words of appreciation. ‘You haven’t seen the half of it, Jada. This guy is a derrick, a billiard ball, and an elastic, all rolled into one.’
First, Fenta lifted an iron casting which Jada believed must have weighed at least three or four hundred pound. He held it lightly above his head, varying its position so as to bring different sets of muscles into play, and slowly turning so that this magnificent display of strength might be seen from all sides.
‘Fo’ de Lawd’s sake!’ exclaimed Gus who was standing in the doorway. ‘Dat sho’ am some man! Ah’d sho’ hate to rile him any!’
‘So should I, Gus.’ laughed Julius. ‘But wait until you see the rest of it. How about it?’ he inquired of Fenta, who was setting down the weight gently so as not to break a hole in the floor.
‘With pleasure.’ beamed the athlete. ‘Your interest is most gratifying. While I have made no real study of physical culture as have some of my people, I do maintain a certain standard of physical fitness as my profession requires.
I wish that I might entertain you with a real exhibition of physical prowess, such as my brother might give. He has gone into the science deeply.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’ said Julius grimly. ‘I don’t question anything you say for a moment. And no doubt your brother is only a beginner compared to a real master of the art. “Fleas have fleas to bite ’em, and so on, ad infinitum.’ he misquoted. ‘That makes me an amoeba.’ he continued cheerfully. ‘At least I belong somewhere, even if it’s down at the bottom of the graph. How do you keep from running off at the top… use logarithms?’
‘Scarcely that.’ laughed their guest. ‘You see, I have had much longer in which to do it. Now if you wish, I shall demonstrate a few elementary feats of agility.’ For the next few minutes he made an aerial tour of the rings, horizontal bars and trapeze, which for perfection of form, grace and physical endurance, would have put any circus performer to shame.
‘Am dat a man or a monkey?’ inquired Gus, his amazement getting the better of his manners.
‘Why, Gus,’ replied Julius laughing. ‘where he comes from, they teach that in kindergarten. Later, when they get to grammar school, they grow hind legs and jump like grasshoppers. Finally when in college…’
‘Now, now, Julius,’ put in Jada. ‘Fenta will think you’re making fun of him.’
‘Making fun of him!’ exploded Julius. ‘What do you think he makes of me with these shows he puts on?’ Jada chuckled.
Fenta finished his last twirl on the bars and smiled his appreciation of their encouragement. As a model for an archangel, thought Jada, it would need a Michelangelo to do him full justice.
‘If you will allow me,’ purred Fenta, while pulling a heavy mat to the floor, ‘I shall endeavour to show you a few attitudes into which the body can be put without straining or hurting it.’ He then not only tied himself into bowknots in accordance with the very best practices of the contortionist’s art, but apparently displaced whole sections of his anatomy, twisting and turning in a manner which should have sprained every muscle and joint. Unbelievable, even in a slim contortionist, in a man of his size and prodigiously muscled frame, the performance was uncanny.
‘Mah Gawd!’ exclaimed Gus, the whites of his eyes showing. ‘Dat ain’t a man, dat’s a snake. Ah reckon Ah better be goin’.’ He took a hurried departure and for some time thereafter went to great pains to give Fenta a wide berth.
Later, while the men were taking a shower, Jada dressed and went downstairs to supervise the breakfast preparations. The men shortly came in and seated themselves, Bessie casting Fenta an admiring glance.
‘I do hope you drink coffee, Fenta.’ inquired Jada. ‘If not, tell us what you want and Bessie will get it for you… if we have it.’ she added with a smile.
‘Yes, I rather like coffee.’ he replied.
‘How about this brother of yours?’ asked Julius. ‘In the words of the ancient ditty. “Are there any more at home like you?”’
‘You really mustn’t mind him, Fenta.’ said Jada smiling. ‘He’s incorrigible.
‘Pray make no excuse on his account.’ said Fenta beaming broadly at Julius. ‘If only I had met him sooner. To answer your question regarding my brother,’ he continued, turning to Julius. ‘He is my senior by some thirty years, and considerably famed for his researches in the biological and zoological sciences. The functioning and the anatomy of the body is his particular study, and he has developed himself to an extraordinary extent, even to gaining conscious control over all the organic processes within him. Physically, I am but a baby compared to him.’
‘A little while ago I might have been unpleasantly skeptical,’ said Julius gravely, ‘but after this morning’s physical demonstration, and last night’s mental one, I’ll believe anything you say. I only hope I shan’t run into him quite yet. One of you at a time is enough.’
‘It is certainly my wish that you meet him and my people.’ returned Fenta. He then addressed both Julius and Jada with an air of seriousness. ‘If you will allow me for a short time to avail myself of your continued patronage, I give you my most earnest assurance that I will repay…’
‘You don’t need to, Fenta,’ interrupted Jada, her heart going out to the derelict she had salvaged less than a day before from the rocks of utter destitution. ‘You’re going to stay right here with us until you get back on your feet, and you needn’t feel you’re accepting charity either. We’ve been in a rut for a long time and needed someone like you to get us out. I know you are going to be of great help to Julius and his work.’
Fenta did not speak. He reached across and took their hands in his own, the look of utter gratitude he gave them being too much for Julius who struggled with the emotion he felt for Fenta,
‘Well, Fenta, if it is agreeable to you,’ Julius cleared his throat, ‘I’d like to give you an earful of my theory on Tensors. How about it?’
‘No. First you’re going to do what we decided last night, Julius.’ interrupted Jada firmly. ‘Your old Tensors, or whatever they are, can wait.’
‘Oh, of course.’ answered her brother. ‘I forgot.’ Turning to his guest he continued. ‘You and I are going to take a little trip into town before we get down to work, so let’s get going.’
‘Umslopogaas has the car waiting and don’t forget to stop at the bank first.’ Jada admonished.
Fenta made Jada his usual courtly bow, a ceremony he never omitted, and the two men drove off in the roadster.
With the men gone, Jada disposed of Fenta’s rags which he had carefully brushed, folded and laid away neatly in a dresser drawer.
In the hall she met Bessie consumed with curiosity.
‘And sure the foine upshtanding figure of a man that he is now.’ she observed, bubbling over with enthusiasm and hopeful expectation. ‘And me not knowin’ the first blissed thing about him, ayther.’ this reproachfully.
‘There is really little to know, Bessie.’ replied Jada evasively. ‘He’s just a friend of Mr Julius’… a professor from some foreign university, I believe. He’s going to stay with us for awhile and help Mr Julius with his work.’
‘And is he now?’ said Bessie eyeing her mistress speculatively. ’Tis hopin’ I am he’ll shtay lang enough to…’
‘Bessie, don’t be ridiculous!’ protested Jada. ‘You take altogether too much for granted. A man can’t show himself around here without you sizing him up as a possible husband. Run along now and don’t imagine that because you’re fond of me everyone else it too.’
‘And why shouldn’t they be?’ queried Bessie. ‘They could go further and fare worse.’ she shot over her shoulder defiantly as she left for the kitchen.
Not wishing to dwell on this disturbing aspect of the situation… that it was an aspect at all, much less a disturbing one, she tried firmly to deny… Jada went to the living room, or the studio as she preferred to call it, and seated herself at the keyboard of a Steinway concert grand, her most prized possession. She had an unusual gift of musical expression the more remarkable because it carried with it a technical aptitude of a very high order… a rare combination.
This talent had been observed early and encouraged by the maiden aunt who was an accomplished pianist herself. Under her competent instruction, Jada had practised hours a day since early childhood. Later she had studied with a world renowned master who spent his summers and conducted classes on the West coast. She had become a finished virtuoso and undoubtedly could have made her mark on the concert platform. But unlike most young artists, she had no desire for a public career and, much to her teacher’s disappointment, had steadfastly refused to take up the itinerant life of a concert pianist.
However, she accepted many invitations to play, was well known in local musical circles, and found this a sufficient outlet for her art.
She spent the rest of the morning in hard practise.
© 2020
And you can begin at Chapter One here…
You can find Chapter Four here…
https://medium.com/@nelipnc/the-dusty-wayfarer-ch-4-880ce3ec5452
