Ride the Whirlwind

by Bob Brill

part 4

VII

Djaminko sat on the platform listening to the music and alternately sipping his tea and his pipe. When the moment felt right, he picked up a drum and began to play, falling into step with the pulsing rhythm that was already in motion. His mind cleared of all thoughts as he submerged into trance state. Never before had he been so deeply engaged in the music, so thoroughly locked into the trance.

The oud began a new melodic line and all at once he understood it. His flesh tingled as he realized that the fleeting fancy he had that first night at the Dancing Boy Café was, in fact, true. The musicians were an inspired conduit for the revelation of future events. He knew for certain that Lord Flagellum’s secret party was poised to topple the Prasnovian government. The coup was set for dawn, which was but a few hours away. At that same hour he knew that Viloshiana would be in great danger.

As the fiddle changed the motif and the drums shifted the beat, he unconsciously shifting with them, he saw himself rushing up a flight of burning steps.

Djaminko snapped out of the trance and set down his drum. He slid off the platform and sought out his friend. “Erno,” he said, “Viloshiana needs help, but I don’t know where she is.”

When he had described his vision, Erno said, “Here’s what you do. Go get your cab and park near the fire station. When you see the fire trucks leaving the station, you follow them to the fire. And there she’ll be.”

“But I’d like to get her out of there before the fire starts.”

“You can’t do that, not if your vision is true. First she must be in mortal danger, then you must climb the burning stairs. What you don’t know is if you’ll succeed in saving her or if you yourself will perish in the flames.”

Djaminko looked at his watch. It was quarter past 3 in the morning. He knew that dawn at this season came about 6.

“Thank you, my friend.” Djaminko rushed out into the street. But when he got there, he didn’t know what to do. It was excruciating to have to wait and do nothing till the danger manifested itself and then have to rush to act in time. But he knew Erno was right. The fire had to be burning before he could attempt a rescue. But, he reasoned, if I could already be there when the fire breaks out, that could make all the difference.

How to find her? He didn’t know where she lived or with whom. The modeling agency would be closed. He didn’t know any of her friends.

Then he had an idea. She had given him a magazine in which she was featured modeling a new line of swimwear. There were photo credits, the magazine had a masthead full of names of writers and editors. It was a long shot, but it gave him something to do. He hurried to his apartment and hunted for the fashion magazine with Viloshiana on the cover.

God, she looked wonderful in that bathing suit. He opened to the article and found the name of the photographer. From directory assistance he learned that Fazlop Zookins’ number was unlisted. He managed to get the number of the author of the article, Magnoonia Merkin. He punched in her number. It rang seven times before a sleepy voice answered. “What the hell time is it? It can’t be morning already, can it?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but it’s a matter of life and death. I’ve got to find Viloshiana Partridge.”

“Well, she’s not here, darling. Mind if I go back to sleep?”

“Any idea how I can reach her?”

“Well, if I know Viloshiana, and I do know Viloshiana, she’s partying somewhere or passed out somewhere, but just where I couldn’t say. I never go to those parties anymore. I prefer one-on-one, don’t you, darling?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, but if I don’t find her, something dreadful is going to happen to her.”

“You’re really worked up about her, aren’t you? Oh, I know who you must be. The ex-boyfriend. The one who saved her life.”

“Yes, and I’m trying to save her life again. Please help me. You know all these people she hangs out with. Do you know this photographer, Fazlop Zookins?”

“Oh, do I know Fazlop! Better than I ever wanted to. The son-of-a-bitch owes me four hundred potzos. Now you’ve got me wide awake, darling. Why don’t you come over and we can discuss this over coffee. I’m sure I can help you find her.”

“Couldn’t you just give me some phone numbers?”

“That won’t work. Nobody knows you. You’ll get the brush-off. I know who to ask and how to ask.” She gave him an address. “Hurry up. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and maybe even some clothes, ha ha ha ha.” She hung up.

Djaminko ran downstairs to the basement garage and fired up his cab. He drove the fourteen blocks to Magnoonia Merkin’s apartment and rang the bell.

She answered the door dressed, or perhaps undressed would be more accurate, in a flimsy robe that revealed generous glimpses of her charms. Not that Djaminko was impervious to her feminine presence, but he was on a mission and saw not charms, but obstacles to his agenda. He looked at his watch. It was just past 4 o’clock.

“Oh, that was quick, darling. Coffee is just ready to pour. Have a seat on the couch.” A tray with a pot of coffee, cups and a plate of cookies was waiting on a low table. As he sat before this offering, she leaned over to pour, both the coffee and herself, revealing that there was much more to her charms than could at first glance be appreciated.

“Let’s make some calls,” he said.

“What’s your hurry, darling? Let’s get to know one another.”

“I’d love to, but some other time, please. I hate to be rude, but time is running out for Viloshiana.”

“I don’t see why you’re so hung up on her. She dumped you. I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

“She’s my friend. You know what a friend is? Anyway, she didn’t dump me, as you so crudely put it. We parted by mutual agreement. Are you going to help me?”

“I could be your friend, too.”

“Not if you don’t help me.” He started to rise.

She said, “All right, if you insist. Sit down.” She picked up the phone and punched in a number. “I’ll put this on the speaker so you can hear it.” The phone rang at least ten times before someone answered.

“Who iz dat?”

“This is Magnoonia. Is Viloshiana there? I want to speak to her.”

“Don’ know wot you sayin’.”

“Put Fazlop on the phone.”

“Fazlop, he busy.”

“Well, get me somebody who isn’t busy. I’ll wait.”

Sounds of music and laughter came over the speaker. “There’s certainly a party going on there,” Magnoonia said to Djaminko. “Don’t know if anyone is in a condition to converse intelligibly.”

Djaminko fidgeted while the party noises continued and no one came to the phone. Finally the phone went dead.

“Call again, please.”

Magnoonia hit the redial button and the phone rang again. After numerous rings a voice came on the line. “Fazlop here. Who’s this?”

“Oh, Fazlop, darling. It’s Magnoonia. I’ve got someone here who is desperate to talk to Viloshiana. Is she there?”

“Oh, Magnoonia, my dear. Viloshiana cannot come to the phone. Not until she comes to her senses. It’s been an age since I’ve seen you, darling. Why don’t you come over?”

“Well, you never invite me to your parties anymore.”

“Because you stopped coming to them. I’m inviting you now. Come right on over. Bring your friend.”

“He’s not my friend. He told me so. He’s Viloshiana’s friend. Her ex, in fact. Claims she’s in a heap of trouble. Needs rescuing.”

“She’s in no more trouble than usual, darling. Nothing that a good night’s sleep won’t cure. Now bring your sweet self here this minute. And Viloshiana’s friend. I’ve been dying to meet him.”

“Very well. We’re coming.” She hung up and the party noise and static disappeared. “There you have it, my non-friend. Viloshiana found.”

“Thank you. I’ll try to be more friendly now.”

“Good. Just how big of a hurry are we in, darling? Have we time for a little get-acquainted kiss?”

“Didn’t I tell you this is a matter of life and death? It’s not just Viloshiana, but all your friends, everyone at that party is in danger. The whole place is about to go up in flames.”

“Well, you’ll just have to wait till I put on my party clothes.”

To be continued...