Ray Montgomery stepped out into
the busy morning-rush-hour pedestrian stream of Fifth Avenue, facing Madison
Square, stood with arms akimbo, and stared up with a satisfied smile at the sky
scrapers all around him.
Every one of those New Yorkers, who had to draw a sudden stop to keep
from walking into his elbows, without exception thought that they had stepped
into different movie, a different novel, a different galaxy. And for New Yorkers, that’s saying much.
It wasn’t his three-piece suit, just a tint short of orange; or his
snake-skin shoes with laces that looked like small snakes. Heavens no!
Not a one lingered on these things.
His curly brown hair, cascading from under his brown felt Top Hat like a
wig, framed a face that seemed too happy, too mischievous, too insanely on the
brink of new discoveries and insight and Eurekas and… crafty wisdom.
Madness, for sure, some thought.
A psychopath lies within that one, thought others.
Total oblivion to their smirks and frowns surrounded this tall mix baron
and jester. In fact, a sizeable
percentage of those who sidestepped him thought he reminded them of Uncle Sam
in caricature – eyes wildly alive with some secret amusement.
Karen Tomlinson was one who came across this contained fizz of
energy. Nothing new to her though. He was her neighbor.
“Mr. Montgomery!” She stopped in
the island of space that had formed around him.
He turned to his greeter, and impossibly grew happier, “Karen,
Sweetheart! How are you this morning,
Lovely?”
She paused for the flicker of a second.
“Ooh! I almost forgot. Happy birthday! Mr. Montgomery!” She was partner in crime with his theatrics
on any day, but today really was his birthday and so her freckles danced and
her eyes flashed and her red hair, curlier than his, jiggled as she made a
small jump and clapped her hands.
“You know, I really could make you number fourteen,” he said as his
smile started to look really stretched.
“Oh get out of here!” She
giggled. “You’ve told me your conditions
for wifehood and I don’t think I’m too enamored.”
“I could start breaking the
rules. I’m old enough now don’t you
think?”
“You’d start growing old again just for me?”
“It’s a thought. If you do that
jump again I might start taking it seriously.”
She laughed a little; stared at him with a smile, a little.
“Would you also teach me the secrets of living as long and remaining as
young as you do?”
“Anything is possible My Love?”
Yes, you could hear the capital letters in his words of endearment. She felt enchanted, but couldn’t help
remembering the previous thirteen wives he’d told her of.
“Let me think on it, I’ve got to
get to work.” She started to move away
slowly, looking at him. “See you later
Mr. Montgomery. Hope you enjoy your
hundredth-and-twenty-third birthday.”
“Why thank you my dear.” He made a
slight bow of acknowledgement, she made a little wave, and then she was walking
way with him admiring until she was lost in the bustle.
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