Chapter 39- Passion

"Archetypes have more to lose."

Robert King/JOURNAL

     After my brief visit with Charlotte the tour was finally over.
    Carolyn had gone ahead to meet with Dominique. Other than a small crew to take care of the cars there were only the pilots, the stewardesses, 4 GLORYGIRLS, and me on the jumbo jet.
    I slept through the trip.
    The next day, at GLORYHOME® I continued my flip through of the material producted in my name over the years. There were millions upon millions of words. I felt only a vague connection to them, certainly nothing spiritual. Occasionally I recalled how I had compiled a particularly clever plagiaristic gem but that was about as eventful as it got. The concept of belief in my “philosophy” was a little far fetched.
     “Well, Carolyn’s not perfect.” I muttered as I sipped my coffee.
    When I set my cup down I knocked over a pile. Documents sheeted the bed.
    “Where is that Carolyn?” I yelled at SATISFACTION. “What am I supposed to do with all this?” I tossed the phone on the bed. It bounced to the floor.

    Thick breakers grated the base of the precipitous beach wall.
    Outside the security fence another tourist bus trolled for another glimpse of paradise.
    Except for my usual food litter my table on the patio was neat for a change. After my bitch-out Carolyn had all my material put on one of the new laptop computers.
    The capitol of our empire, our 1000 acre HOMEBASE® complex on the coastal range had become a megalopolis. The highway was five miles away but, sometimes, it seemed like it had moved right outside the gates. Guided tours of the public parts of the interview labs, study section, and the taping studios, were every two hours on the hour except on weekends. At the study section pass doors a steady stream of ruthlessly beautiful new meat unfolded legily out of their limos. The lobby was a shark tank where vanity drenched eyes and perfect teeth flashed in sorority.
    The faithful came: to gawk, to flock, to offer up their reverence, to pay and pay and pay some more, to find, and lose, their souls.
    Some people checked in and never left.
    Entrapped in a perfect example of what my personal life of the rich and famous was like, I studied my script for a seminar on how to dominate boredom in your love life.

    Normally we woke at dawn.
    The bed was as big as most studio apartments.
    Dominique’s side was a plush nest of black silk, with down pillows piled in profusion. She neatly sipped coffee and scanned the stats. A bank of TV remote controls, yellow legal pads, a keyboard and mouse lay pecicely at her side on a swing away table. Built into the wall before her the large screen TVs, VCRs, and banked computer monitors fed the morning totals updates on all activities.
    My side was its usual mess of not much. I only had 3 pillows, two big screen TVs, two VCRs one TV remote and my portable phone. Books were piled precariously against the wall.
    “India is up today my love.”
    “That’s nice, Dominique, what in India is up?”
    Under the sheets a hard on bobbed up and down as I flexed my muscles.
    She glanced at it.
    “Death totals. It is time to invest in fertilizer plants.” She scrawled on a yellow legal pad. “The government is ready to accept our royalty on bodies en masse. As raw materials go it isn’t a high royalty but it’s more than they have.” She droned on, consumed by her latest passion. “At least, for them, there is never a problem with raw materials. They were so recalcitrant. They refused to profit from reality until it was no longer possible to ignore it. Now they are more realistic.”
    She yawned and stretched, cat-like.
    “I think pet food and specialty fertilizer would best. The pet food would be best marketed to Euro-Asia. It would appeal to the naturalists. I’m afraid Americans are still too squeamish, but, someday.”
    I shifted the sheets. As I stretched my legs Dominique’s thighs closed on mine.
    She crawled on top and silently impaled herself upon me.
“Are you not interested in trend lines my love?” She asked.
    She leaned back and squeezed her nipples until they were swollen and red and then clipped each of them with a silver chain clip. She bent over me and handed me the ends of the delicate silver chains.
    “Do you not wish to know the devious puppetry of power and money.”
    “No, not really.” I pulled the chains with a steady but alternating tension.
    Her body stiffened as she came.
    She rolled off and went to the shower.
    Later-her glasses propped over her nose, she looked like a nude librarian with her knees propped up and her note pad pressed against them. She sucked on a well toothed pencil as she spread her legs.
    “You are so jaded.” She said and rubbed her clitoris with the pencil eraser.
    I shrugged.

    I tried to get Carolyn alone when I could but she slipped deftly through my net of schemes. When, finally, she did talk to me it was only to tell me she felt like someone was watching her. I told her I thought it was some woman thing designed to drive me crazy.
    One night Dominique and I had a conversation with far reaching effect.
    “What’s this Dominique?”
    “What, my love?”
    I tossed the print out on the table next to her coffee cup.
    Finished with her exercise she wiped her face.
    Idly I sipped my coffee.
    “It is a Mexican account summery, my love.”
    “I can see that?”
    “I’m just curious Dominique. I saw Mexico and wondered, that’s all.”
    “Mexico is a minor investment.”
    “Why don’t we buy it?” I said thoughtlessly.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Just what I said, Dominique. Why...don’t...we...buy...it?”

    She paused to adjust her tights. Her long, white fingers stretched them taut over her sleek thighs. The hot scent of her sweat mingled with the heady perfume of tropical flowers.
    “The country of Mexico?”
    “Well, I suppose we could start with the Baja peninsula. It’s more manageable”
    “What would be the purpose, my love?”
    She sat down next to me.
    I winged it, curious to see where I would end up.
    “Use your imagination Dominique. We would own a country. Our country, our laws, ours- a sovereign state. We could call it...GLORY. The STATE OF GLORY. Yeah, the STATE OF GLORY!" I pontificated. "Founded on the philosophical and religious principals of the CHURCH OF GLORY, whatever they are.”
    Dominique studied my face with far away eyes. I'd seen that dangerous look before.
    “What’s the matter Dominique? You look strange.” I said.
    She sat, motionless as a stone.
    I slapped her cheek.
    “Dominique! Answer me!”
    Her eyes locked on mine.
    “Significant.” She whispered slowly, and nodded her head.
    “So you think it’s a good idea huh?”
    She laughed softly.
    “You have finally made it possible for us to conquer the world.” She said.
    “That’s nice, right?” I said as I nodded and flopped my tongue like a cartoon dog.
    She smiled, and picked up the phone.