I looked up from my reading as Larry came into the room. "Where's Leo?" I had rarely seen them apart over the last two years.
"He's at the Dean's office, making arrangements to see his family over the weekend. I'll be going with him. I... Well, I wanted to ask you something."
I frowned. I couldn't remember seeing Larry nervous like this. I noticed that he was holding a file folder, almost out of sight behind him. "What is it, Larry?"
Larry's eyes were flitting around the room. "I, ...uhhh... asked the Dean if he'd relieve me of being a dorm parent. I'll still teach classes, but I..." He fiddled with a pencil on Maverick's desk. "I'd need a new roommate to go on with that, and I didn't really want one."
Easy enough.... I choked back the words that were ready to spring out of my mouth: I'd need to talk to Maverick first. I looked across at Maverick, trying to decide how to maneuver Larry out of the room so Maverick and I could talk in private. And Maverick caught my eyes and smiled, and looked at Larry and said, "So stay with us, then." He looked back at me. I blinked in astonishment, and he said, "I'm assuming that's okay with you."
I moved my mouth in silence, then shook my head to clear it. "Oh, definitely!" I looked back at Larry. "Room with us, hon. Okay?"
Larry half-smiled. "I knew you'd say that. We can talk to the Dean about it later."
I craned my neck, trying to get a better look at the file folder. "That's not why you're here, though, is it? What's in the folder, Larry?" I spoke in a soft, coaxing voice. Whatever it was that Larry wanted to talk about, he couldn't, all by himself, make himself do it.
Larry finally brought the folder out into full view, looking at it as if he'd only just now discovered it was there. He sighed heavily, and closed his eyes, not wanting to watch himself initiate the subject. "This is a client folder. When a client wants to buy a graduate for a hanging, they fill out a form, file some letters of reference, whatever else they want to submit, and it all goes in here." He flashed the half-smile again. "You'll look at a bunch of these next year."
I tried to help Larry along. "So... you've got a hanging you might want to do?" I frowned. "That's good... isn't it?" I was having a harder time reading Larry than I could ever remember.
Larry finally pulled out Maverick's desk chair and sat heavily on it. "I... well, I do. It is. I mean..." He looked at the folder again, and giggled unexpectedly. "If you ever wanted real proof of how weird I am... This thing..." he shook the folder, "...has been sitting in the Dean's office for more than a year. It's a request for a Hanging Boy from a local male — Ted Bloom. He picked out three or four boys from last year's class, one after another, and asked them if they'd be interested, and they all said no. The Dean finally told him he'd keep the request on file, and have all the grads look it over and think about it.
"They all passed on it. And now our class is looking for buyers, and I think most of us, by now, have looked at this one. I thought it was nuts, like everybody else, but it's kept nagging at me since then. And I started having fantasies about doing it, and what it would be like." He gave me a look that told me he was amazed at himself. "Wynn, I can't stop thinking about it. I think I want to do it!"
I clenched my fists and rolled my eyes in exasperation, "Larry, what the hell is wrong with it?"
Larry looked inside the folder, as if making sure its contents were still there. Silently, he handed it across to me. I beckoned Maverick with my finger, and Maverick came over to sit beside me on the bed. I opened the folder with the name "Ted Bloom" on the tab, and we began reading.
My brow furrowed, and then my jaw dropped gradually open as I read. I handed it to Maverick, and picked up the photograph that accompanied the application, a smiling face shot of a very cute lemur, his headfur cut short in a style once known as a ducktail — Zeke Hillcrest, the actor, his face familiar to anyone who had seen the most popular movies of recent years. I examined the picture, unconsciously shaking my head, and traded it to Maverick for the application, which I read again. At last I looked up. "Larry, this is really nuts."
Larry laughed, in a pained way. "Is there an echo in here? I already said that."
"How could this guy even afford this?"
Larry blinked. "I thought you'd recognize his name. Ted Bloom? He's..."
Maverick sat bolt upright. "Oh!! Right, that dot-com millionaire meerkat. He started that social networking site on the Net, and sold it a few years ago for this humongous amount of money."
I nodded my head. "Yes! I remember that now. He's one of the richest anthros in town! I think my dad met him at some big party. He said Ted was... kind of cold."
Larry nodded. "I'm getting a feeling for why that is." He reached for the photograph that Maverick was now holding. "This Bloom guy must know Zeke Hillcrest personally. And Zeke pissed him off to the absolute max."
I snorted. "What gave that away? Was it when he said he wants to 'terrify and humiliate' Zeke before hanging him?"
Larry half-smiled. "That was a clue, yeah."
"And you want that?"
"To pretend to be terrified? Don't we do that in most of the hanging scripts?"
I gestured with the folder. "Have you talked to Ted Bloom yet?"
Larry shook his head. "He doesn't even know I'm thinking about doing it."
"What does Leo think about all this?"
Larry looked down at the floor. "I haven't... uhhh, exactly told him."
I gaped at him in astonishment. "Huh??" I couldn't imagine Larry withholding anything from Leo, especially possible plans for his own hanging.
"Wynn, you know what he's going to think! The same thing you and Maverick and everybody else thinks about it. And I couldn't find a way to tell him, but now his hanging is coming up in a couple of weeks, and that all got suddenly so real to me sitting in that room today with those fraternity boys." He clenched his fists, and pounded one softly on his thigh as he spoke. "Leo's going to be dead in two weeks, and if I know what's going to happen to me, I have to tell him! He has to know what my own hanging is going to be like!" Larry suddenly reached for my hand. "Wynn, I know what you think about this now," he waved with his other hand at the folder, "But you've always been... such an understanding person. You can figure out why I want to do this. I need you to help me tell Leo. It's not enough for him to know what I'm going to do. He has to understand!"
I was silent for a long time. I looked at Maverick, who held up his hands in a helpless gesture. I looked back at Larry, and finally said, "Okay, talk some more then. I'm still not getting it. What is it that's making you want to do this?"
Larry sighed with relief. "See, that's already different. Leo is going to start by telling me all the things that are wrong with it. I knew you'd listen first." He straightened up and spent a moment collecting his thoughts. Then he began talking.
At the knock on the door, Larry spasmed so violently that I thought he might bounce off the ceiling. I chuckled at the thought, and relaxed a little. Larry took a deep breath as Maverick said "Okay!" and Leo entered.
Leo grinned at Larry. "It's all set. We're going to my house Friday morning, and my dad will take off work, and my brothers will stay home from school, and Emil and his wife will be there, so I can show him the script, and then Saturday night we'll go over to your house and I can meet your dad, and then we'll come back here Sunday night..." He stopped suddenly, aware now of the look on Larry's face. "What?"
I waited a moment to see whether Larry was up to explaining, then spoke up. "What would you think if Larry might have a line on his own hanging?"
Leo put one hand over his mouth, and squealed, "That would be so cool!" He ran over to throw himself on the bed next to Larry, wrapping his arms around him, babbling, "I was hoping so much you wouldn't have to wait long after I went! Why didn't you tell me before? Is it all set up? Which scene are you going to do?" With no responses from Larry to keep him going, Leo gradually ran down. He sat back at last, frowning at Larry, then looking at Maverick and me. "What's going on? What's wrong?"
Still without a word, Larry handed Leo the file folder. Maverick and I came over to sit surrounding them on the bed. I sat next to Larry, rubbing his back to try to relax him; Maverick sat beside Leo.
Still frowning, Leo looked at the name on the folder tab. "Isn't this that one Blaise told us not to bother with?"
Managing a small smile, Larry spoke at last. "Ummm, yeah. I kind of bothered with it anyway."
Hunching over the folder, Leo began reading. Within ten seconds, he sat bolt upright. "Larry! This guy wants..."
Larry leaned against him. "Shhh. Just read all of it before you say anything, okay? Then we can get it all out in the open."
Leo looked at him doubtfully, and finally nodded, resuming reading. His frown deepened still more, as he looked behind the front sheet and found the photo, looked at it in disbelief, and read the first sheet again.
At last he put it down and sighed heavily. "Okay, I read it. Are you crazy?"
Larry giggled, high-pitched, nervous. "What, you didn't know that after three years?"
Leo goggled at him. "Larry, this guy wants to hang you alone! With no witnesses! You know he can't do that!"
"Fine, then there's nothing to worry about. Let's assume that's worked out somehow. What else?"
Leo looked exasperatedly up at the ceiling. "Where do I start?" He picked up the photo, a publicity shot of the actor. "He wants a Hanging Boy to pretend to be Zeke Hillcrest! You don't look anything like him! How are you going to pull that off?"
"You read where he says he'll pay for plastic surgery, right? I'm within an inch of Zeke's height. I'm a different species of lemur, but we have the same overall body shape, and most of the difference is in the face and the fur color. I can be made to look like him."
"What the hell does this Bloom guy have against Zeke, anyway? Get pissed off at one of his movies?"
"It doesn't say, in there. I'd have to find that out."
Leo's hand holding the photo was shaking, and he took a deep breath to try to calm himself. "Okay, look. Suppose you could do what he wants. Suppose you changed your face so much you could fool Zeke Hillcrest's own mother. Suppose the Dean will let this Bloom fellow hang you alone, somehow. That's just the point, though." He turned fully toward Larry. "After all we've done, how can you be hanged for just one person? Everything we've worked toward, everything we've ever dreamed about, is to put on a big show in front of a hundred people, a thousand people! All those people watching us kick, getting themselves off, remembering us for the whole rest of their lives! We've worked so hard to become what we are, and in the end we affect so many lives! It's like you want to... throw the dream away!" Tears were seeping out of the corners of his eyes.
Larry was trying to speak, his mouth working but nothing coming out. I slid closer to him and put an arm around his waist. "Tell him exactly what you told us, hon."
Leo suddenly jerked his head fully upright, glaring at me. "I knew it! He told you all about this, and Maverick too. Everybody else too, probably, and I'm the last to know!"
"Of course he told us first, because the person he was most scared about was you! Because the person he cares about the most is you!"
Leo stared at me, his jaw working, then looked back at Larry. They stared at each other for what must have been a full thirty seconds. When Larry at last reached for Leo's hand, Leo let him take it, and returned his roommate's squeeze.
Larry smiled at him shakily. "Okay, will you listen now?"
Leo brushed tears from his eyes, and managed a tiny smile of his own. "Can you explain it in less than two weeks?"
Larry wiped away his own tears. "I'll try." He sat upright, sighing heavily. "Okay. I understand what you're saying about the dream. We all have that." He paused. "But I've got another version of it."
I rubbed his back encouragingly as he went on. "I guess I always had it in the back of my mind, but I couldn't have put it into words until I saw this." He jiggled the folder. "It called out to me, somehow. I started thinking... What if, instead of affecting a hundred people so much that they always remembered me, what if I could affect one person, so deeply, that it actually changed his life? I think that's what I was looking for all along, when I felt like I didn't really like any of the hanging scenes, and I kept rejecting all the proposals from people who wanted to do the usual stuff.
"But this one... It's exactly what I want! This Ted Bloom — I mean, you can tell he's got this obsessive fantasy. Think how he'll feel when he really gets to play it out! Talk about affecting somebody deeply!
"And as I've been thinking about it, I realized there's also other stuff in it that is just right for me. Whenever I'd read one of the hanging scripts, I'd think, well, that's kind of cool, but it's... well, it's scripted, obviously. But this..." he shook the folder again, "This one can't go by a script. I can't fulfill his fantasy nearly as well if I'm just reciting lines he told me to say. He'll want to really get into it and imagine it's really happening, and what I'll need to do is find out more about what he knows about Zeke and what their relationship is, and improvise based on that. And since I realized that, my mind's just been spinning with all the things I'll need to ask him when we meet, so he can give me all the information I'll need, and how I'll be able to use it and how the scene will go..." Larry laughed. "I'm almost as obsessed as he is, with the whole thing!" He sat further upright, stroked Leo's arm with his hand. "Can you understand what I'm saying? This is what I want! I want it so much I can't think now of going out any other way. Do you see?" He looked tensely into Leo's eyes.
Leo looked doubtfully at him. He turned toward Maverick, on his other side. "Maverick... You're our Hanging God. You've thought about hanging more in your lifetime than anybody else in the room — anybody else in the school. What do you think about this? Hanging for just one person?"
Maverick bit his lip absently, thinking, looking up at the ceiling. At last he spoke. "When I saw my Uncle Seymour's hanging, it was the usual thing, that 'dream' we're always talking about — lots of people there, watching. But I only know firsthand how I felt about it myself, and to me... it was like I was the only person there. I felt like he was hanging just for me, and showing me what it was all about." I was surprised to see tears in the corners of Maverick's eyes — the first time he had cried since that night so long ago in the Hall of Honor. "I'm sure everybody who was there remembers it, like you were saying, but as far as I know, I'm the only person whose life it changed. And I think..." his voice shook slightly, "I feel pretty sure, in fact, that, out of everybody's reaction to his hanging, the one that would mean the most to Uncle Seymour was mine, because it did hit me so deeply, and it did change my life. When we hang, we can't know for sure that we'll hit somebody that hard, and do that much to them. But I think it's really what we all hope for.
"When all of us hang, we'll be happy if we get the big crowd and they all remember us. But deeper inside... I think we all want to have what Larry's going to get. That one person whose life changes."
I suddenly jerked as if an electric shock had run through me. Marshall had that too! I thought. His hanging completely changed one person's life.
Leo looked down at the floor, and gradually, lifted his eyes up to meet Larry's. Larry gave him a tense smile. "So do you understand now?"
Leo nodded slowly, fell toward Larry and wrapped his arms around him, laying his head on Larry's shoulder, sobbing openly now. Both of them held each other for awhile, each with their shoulders heaving, each rubbing his roommate's back.
At last Larry sat up, tried to wipe away the latest set of tears, and coughed, sniffling. "Okay," he said huskily. "I'm going to ask the Dean tomorrow to get hold of Mr. Bloom, and get a meeting set up. And I want all of you," he looked around at each of us, "All of you to be there, and to help me find a way to make this happen. We know about the problems with the proposal, so we need to try to think of how to make it acceptable to the Dean and still make Mr. Bloom happy. Leo?" Larry looked at his roommate. "I know you can't be there to help with the hanging, and we won't even make much progress toward it by the time you have your own. But will you help while you can?"
Leo laughed at his own efforts to smile around the tears, and nodded vigorously.
Larry looked at me, and beyond Leo to Maverick. "You guys too? I want both of you to be at the meeting, and I want both of you to be my assistants when the hanging finally gets here. Okay?"
I wrapped my arms around Larry's waist from behind. "I'm in."
Maverick nodded. "Me too."
Leo hugged Larry again. "I'm so happy for you. Whether I look like it or not," he said, palming away still more tears.
Larry laughed and looked around the conference room. "Well, this place looks familiar." He sat at the table, with Leo, Maverick and me behind him, and the Dean to his left at the table's head. He fiddled with the pages of notes in front of him, but he seemed calm.
The buzzing of the intercom broke the silence that had followed Larry's remark, and Tina's voice announced the arrival of Ted Bloom. Moments later, a tallish meerkat, Mr. Bloom, was shown into the room. He looked to be a shy, quiet, bookish type. The shy, quiet computerish type, I corrected myself. He'd founded his Web site and made his fortune while still in college, and was now about 25, the same age as Zeke Hillcrest — it seemed likely now that Mr. Bloom had been in school at some point with the future actor. His headfur was brown, straight, and nearly shoulder length, parted in the middle with no discernable styling, but with the smoothness and softness that came from expensive shampoos and conditioners. He was dressed in a dark beige business suit, with a lighter beige dress shirt made of silk. The overall impression he made was an odd combination of lack of attention to personal style and a taste for the expensive. He gave the impression of looking very intently at whatever object was the current focus of his attention. I suspected he was probably nearsighted — likely wearing contacts, but not able to break the habits caused by poor vision in childhood.
We all stood when he walked in, and he seemed taken aback at seeing four of us facing him from the other side of the table, As the Dean introduced himself and shook his hand, he looked again at the boys, puzzled. "Which one is Larry?"
Larry raised his hand slightly and let it drop, smiling. "That would be me, sir. This is Leo, my roommate," he gestured, "And this is Wynn, and Maverick, my best friends."
If Mr. Bloom had looked intently at things before, that was nothing in comparison to his examination of Larry. "How tall are you?"
"Five-four, sir. I was five-three when I came here, but our necks and spines all get a little longer. Mister Hillcrest has kind of a long neck himself though. He's five-three, I've read."
Mr. Bloom looked at Larry several seconds longer, seeming to concentrate on his face. He nodded at last, and turned back to the Dean. "Can I have a face shot of him to take with me when I leave? I'll need to show it to the plastic surgeon, so he can give me a preliminary judgment about whether he can change the boy's appearance appropriately. He'll need to examine Larry in person before he finally decides, of course."
The Dean had been looking for a polite way to interrupt. "Before we get into that, there are some other issues we would need to discuss. Won't you sit down?" He gestured toward the chairs on the other side of the table.
Mr. Bloom sat, a little reluctantly, and we sat afterwards. "Why are these other boys here? I requested that the knowledge of this arrangement be kept to as small a group as possible."
The Dean smiled. "Well, that actually brings me to one of those issues I was referring to. I'm afraid we would not be able to honor your request for an unwitnessed hanging."
Bloom blinked and glared at the Dean. "Then why am I here?"
The Dean started to reply, but before he could, Larry said, "Sir, if I may, please?"
Mr. Bloom gave Larry a startled look, but nodded. Larry turned to look across at Mr. Bloom. "Sir, I don't know yet what the background is, but I do understand this is really important to you. The Dean was about to explain the reasons for the Academy's conditions of sale, but before he does that, I wanted you to know that I think we can work within them in a way that will satisfy you. I'd need to ask you some questions about the setup first. Would that be okay?"
Mr. Bloom seemed mollified by Larry's manner and his concern for a project that was obviously very near and dear to the client. He gave Larry a tiny nod. "Go ahead."
"Sir, where will the hanging take place?"
"There would be an underground dungeon constructed at my house. I suppose I could simply furnish a ground-floor room appropriately, but I like the idea of going down into it."
Larry smiled. "A dungeon. I should have realized that." He frowned thoughtfully. "The way you said that, it sounds as if the dungeon doesn't exist yet. Is that correct?"
"It is correct. I'm planning to have the dungeon built for this purpose. Obviously I had to wait until I knew there would be a need for it."
Larry looked pleased. "So it's really just in the blueprint stages?"
Mr. Bloom shook his head. "Not even that far. But I can begin the process as soon as I leave here, assuming this meeting ends satisfactorily."
Larry nodded eagerly. "I hope it does, sir. I think it will. The big question is, would you object to having witnesses who had physical access to the scene of the hanging, if they were completely invisible? As long as, as far as you could tell, you were alone with me?"
"I still don't understand why there need to be witnesses at all."
The Dean spoke up. "If I may address that — at last," he gave Larry a tiny smile, "We do have some requirements to protect our own interests; these apply to all hangings of our boys. I can go into greater detail later, but for the moment I will just say that these are requirements to which any purchaser must adhere. However, it sounds as though Larry has already been doing some thinking on the subject."
Mr. Bloom sighed and turned back to Larry. I suspected the only reason he hadn't ended the meeting yet was that he really wanted this fantasy fulfilled. "All right. How do you mean they'd be 'invisible.'?"
Larry shuffled the pages of notes in front of him. The Dean handed him a blank sheet of paper. He made a quick sketch, then turned it and slid it toward Mr. Bloom. He pointed with the pen at various features. "This is the dungeon itself. Here's me," he smiled, pointing to a stick figure. "On either side, these are additional rooms, one for an official representative of the Academy who, as the Dean will tell you, is there to make sure everything is done according to Academy rules, and the other for my two assistants. Here's the important point. Each of these rooms has a door into the dungeon. The doors are smoked glass, very dark, and each room is blacked out while you are in the dungeon. In the dungeon itself, there's a spotlight on me, constantly. I think the spotlight in the otherwise dark dungeon will add to the atmosphere in a way you'll really be pleased with, but the important thing is, you can't see beyond the doors because of the darkness behind the smoked glass. In fact, in the dim light outside the spotlight, you wouldn't even be able to see the doors themselves. But the representative and the assistants can look out through the glass and see me, because of the spotlight."
Mr. Bloom frowned. "It sounds as though the representative might decide to interfere in some situations. Otherwise there'd be no need for him."
Larry nodded. "That's true, but of course all of the rules will be spelled out beforehand, so you'll know how to avoid intervention. And I really don't think they will stop you from doing what you want to do." He stopped, and backtracked. "Well, that does depend on exactly what you want to do. But we can find out what that is beforehand."
Mr. Bloom's frown deepened. "I'm really starting to think this doesn't seem to be what I want."
Larry leaned forward. "Sir — we will work very hard to make it what you want." He put all the sincerity he had into his voice. "I promise that."
I spoke up. "Sir — if I may?"
Mr. Bloom looked at me. "You are...?"
"Wynn, sir. I'd be one of Larry's assistants. And I was just thinking, his assistants can probably be useful to you in ways you might not have considered."
Mr. Bloom's jaw twitched. "Go on."
"Sir, as you visualize this scene, I assume it starts with Mr. Hillcrest somehow being kidnapped?"
Mr. Bloom nodded. "Basically, yes."
"Well, sir, I hope this doesn't give offense, but if this were happening in real life, I'm thinking you're not the sort of person who would do that yourself. You'd hire it done by someone you trusted." I suddenly realized that thoughts of Andrew had led me in this direction, but I brushed them aside.
Mr. Bloom nodded again. "Probably."
"In that case, we, Maverick and myself — Maverick will be the other assistant — we could fill that role. We'd prepare Larry for your arrival — dressed or naked, as you prefer, and... well, you'd probably want him tied up or in chains, restrained in some way, so he can't fight you when you first show up. All of that's up to you, but we can set it up for you. That's exactly what your hired kidnappers would do."
I saw Mr. Bloom's nostrils suddenly flare, and he was breathing a little faster than before. Great! I thought. I hit on something he likes!
"And you can do everything you need to do out of sight? I'd never see a sign you were there?"
"Exactly, sir. At least that's what we're trying to work out."
Mr. Bloom finally smiled. "You'd need to be prepared to wait awhile."
I looked at him questioningly. "Sir?"
"I was visualizing playing this out over a period of about forty-eight hours."
All of us blinked in astonishment. Mr. Bloom suddenly looked at the Dean, frowning again. "Would that be within the rules?"
He nodded. "A little unusual, but yes. The rules actually allow up to a full week after delivery."
Mr. Bloom looked back at Larry. "How do you feel about that?"
Larry grinned. "I feel like you're going to get your money's worth." He was pleased to see Mr. Bloom laugh for the first time. A thought occurred to him. "Sir, I hope you understand, one of the rules is that you can't hurt me in a way that would affect my hanging performance. But you wouldn't want to, right?"
Mr. Bloom gave him the thoughtful look again. "You've probably understood that a little pain would be of some interest to me, but you're right. The hanging has to take precedence over that." He looked more closely at Larry. "But some pain is okay? If it doesn't affect your performance?"
Larry smiled. "I think all of us Hanging Boys are probably a bit masochistic in some degree. But I had another thought to go with that. I'm going to want to find out as much as I can about your relationship with Zeke Hillcrest. And..."
Mr. Bloom interrupted. "Is that really necessary?"
"Oh, absolutely, sir. I need to react to anything you say exactly the way Zeke would, and for that I need to know who you are in his life. I can talk to you the way he would, based on your relationship, if I know enough. And when you speak about pain — you'll be in a position to inflict any amount of psychological pain, but that will only work effectively if I can react as Zeke. I need to know things he's afraid of, what he likes and dislikes, and so on. Anyway..." He finally pushed the rest of his notes across the table to Mr. Bloom. "I've thought of some specific questions I have, and I've written them down here. And if you could, would you add a general... I guess I'd call it a diary, of your relationship with him. Obviously I need to know why you'd want to do this to him, but please don't stop with that. I need you to tell me everything you can think of that relates to him, and to his relationship with you."
The corners of Mr. Bloom's mouth twitched upward. "You mean you're giving me homework?"
Larry grinned and looked toward the Dean. "Are you kidding? That's all you ever get in this place!"
The four of us looked on in astonishment as the Dean broke into laughter. None of us could remember seeing him laugh before.
Mr. Bloom laughed as well, then grew serious again. "There's one thing I'm getting worried about."
Larry looked at him. "Yes, sir?"
Mr. Bloom bit his lip. "All this preparation beforehand... I think it will take away something of the spontaneity, and the... reality, of the process. I do want it to feel real. All this time talking to you before the scene takes place..."
Larry nodded. "I understand what you mean, sir, but I think you'll be surprised at how real it is. Remember you're not going to see me in there. I won't look like this. You'll see Zeke Hillcrest. In fact... we may all meet here again, maybe several times. But once I have the surgery, I won't see you in person until you meet me in your dungeon. Wynn and Maverick, my... that is, your accomplices..." he smiled, "...can be our go-betweens, once I look like Zeke. As I said, we're going to do everything we can to make this work for you. Oh! That reminds me."
"Yes?"
"I can look like Zeke, but I don't sound like him. His voice is higher, for one thing. I think that could probably be fixed. Would you be able to hire a good voice coach?"
Mr. Bloom blinked. "I see what you mean. I hadn't thought. Yes, I can do that."
The Dean cleared his throat. "If I may..." He handed copies of the contract to Mr. Bloom. "Please look these over at your leisure, and we can schedule a time for you to return and sign them if everything is in order. In the end we have actually covered most of the basic rules today, so there are no substantial surprises remaining, I believe. Tina, in the outer office, can print out an enlarged copy of our photo of Larry, and make the appointment for your return. Will that be acceptable?" He looked to Mr. Bloom.
Mr. Bloom stood and nodded. They shook hands. "Yes, completely. And Larry?" Larry and the rest of us had stood up as well. "I truly do appreciate your... eagerness. It goes beyond what I expected. You've managed to convince me that this all may happen. After all this time." He beamed at Larry, and held out his hand.
Larry shook hands with him. "Speaking of being eager — would you be able to schedule a time for the surgery... let's see... as soon as possible after three weeks from today?" I goggled at him as he went on. "It's possible that might need to be postponed, but I'm sure doing it as soon as possible would be best. I know it's going to take some recovery time. Oh, and I'd like to start seeing the voice coach even sooner. That will be more of a learning-type thing, and to really do it right, it may take even longer than making me resemble Zeke physically."
Mr. Bloom smiled again. "I'll set all that up as soon as I leave here."
An association in my head bubbled to the surface. I asked, "Sir? I could give you the name of a contractor who could build that dungeon for you." I almost laughed at the realization that my experience with Andrew might end up having positive consequences. Mr. Bloom nodded his appreciation and waited patiently as I wrote down some information for him. Another thought occurred to me. "Oh! If it's two days, those outer rooms next to the dungeon will need something to sleep on, toilet facilities, and food. Preferably with something to cook it on."
Mr. Bloom nodded. "I'll have the architect include the appropriate plumbing. And electrical outlets."
The Dean buzzed for Tina, who ushered a happy Ted Bloom out of the room. He immediately turned to Larry. "Well, I have to say, I'm impressed."
Larry grinned. "Just shows you knew what you were doing when you admitted us."
He looked at us thoughtfully. "Yes, I'd have to say so. About all of you."