Boudoir Glamour Inc.

Boudoir Glamour Inc #115

By Cynk Napp Copyright 2021 all rights reserved

"The Benefits Advocate"

It seemed to me that documents were simply appearing inside whatever I was holding.

First, with the documents that discussed 'demons being pranked', and now with this new set of parchments.

Strangely crisp and fresh feeling paper that was yellowed and imposed the tactile memory of worn, crackled edges. The words on the paper drew you in.. demanding.. Once you started, the story made you lean in.

"A young man that had only ever lived in boarding schools. Moved from school-to-school regularly, sometimes at half session.

In the rarest of cases, where he met a student from a former school; they did not really remember him.

They were always remote prestigious schools. Parents were often involved in directing class activates to benefit their children. He was an outsider.

No one at these schools could offer any information. Who were his parents? What kind of career choices could he pursue (not knowing if money was going to be available for advanced education).

Reading was his sole escape.

Always housed in a private room, and with no parents to advocate for clubs or special programs; reading was a comfortable pursuit. School librarians seemed delighted to suggest rare fiction series.

None of the testers or examiners knew anything about his parents.

By late afternoon, the skies were no brighter. His room was packed up with suitcases by staff, and once again he was waiting at main door of school (like so many times before).

The long and low black car was like all the others that took him from school to school (styled the same, but never actually the same car).

Today, there was an older woman already seated in the back. She wore a dress of cotton layers. Dark black on the whole, but also purest white ruffles (at sleeve, collar, about the vest down and around waist). White gloves. A tiny black hat with lace and a long large pin holding it to her hair.

She stared at the closed divider that made the back seat private, 'Quickly get in. There is much to do. Your trustee died this morning. We only have until sunset to prepare you for what comes next. I am a relative of sorts. A widow of the family. Your family controls an immense power. Not money. Not directly. They make things happen for powerful, or soon to be powerful people. I have spent time preparing all the firsthand accounts. I will take you as far as the study so you can find them. All the staff has left. Which is why I am here, but I will not stay long either. Your trustee (my father-in-law) made it clear that it is not safe during a transition. Especially, warning me that your condition might be very dangerous. Something about a final price..'

When the car stopped, the driver opened his door. She put out her hand, to be helped out of the car; and then strode purposefully into the house. Walking both directly to the study.

A library sized table had a stack of folders and a vase at the center. Or was it a tea pot? It had no spout, but it did have a lid.

The lady gave his shoulder a firm grip, 'I am going now. I survived this long by taking friendly advice. Read the material! Quickly.. Goodbye!' .

Her footfalls trailed away, replaced by the ticking of a mantle clock on the bookshelves.

The cost of a wish (or wishes) woven intricately upon complexity. There was a price.

Many of the narratives spoke forebodingly of the sunset. Other ones spoke of regret. The things they lost after making a wish.

Having decided, he sat in a chair at the table and waited for darkness.

As darkness fell, the clock stopped ticking. The whole large mansion stopped making ANY noise.

The young man dropped his eyes from the pot (or urn), saying 'Hello.. You probably know me far better than I could know you. I decided to wait for you to appear on your own time. Some stories talked about ordering you to appear. Well uhm.. what happens now?'

A strange dark 'absence' appeared above the urn. Two sharp red glows appeared in it, suggesting eyes were looking back, 'y o u.. ma ke... a WISH!'

His own eyes focused on the table top, 'Uhm.. I guess I would like something that permits you greater freedom.. less constraint. If it does not offend you to do so.. I remember hearing about 'benefit advocates' from some school librarian. People that work to maximize the good things in a plan, and avoid the pitfalls. There appears to be a possibility of more wishes, but that is my first one.'

Sounds rushed back into the room. The urn vanished and across the table stood a lovely young woman.

She leaned a bit forward with a hand on the table, 'My! Aren't you refreshing! Let's see if we can untangle this entire issue of wishes and curses.. hmmm. You can call me Lorem!'

Almost without any thought, he said 'Not "Lorem Ipsum" by any chance?'

She smiled in a genuinely reassuring way, 'Ohh I love the way you get my jokes!"

Their eyes met, then his darted downward, but were transfixed by a logo on her shirt. Then his eyes darted back up to her gaze. Thinking about the phrase 'my eyes are..', and laughing in a brief burst of uncontrollable snorts (encouraged by her expression and giggles). Distracted mildly by the how the logo eye appeared to move on its own.

'Yes..' she said; 'The shirt is a joke, too. It has been such a long time.. to find someone that just gets me. So I am going to tell you. Anymore wishes are really a bad idea for you. But you probably won't need more wishes. I can stay with you like this for your entire life.'

And that is what happened. Turning the mansion into a retreat center for librarians. Conferences, book clubs, sabbaticals. It is great fun, but Lorem keeps the women at arm's length.

'Hey now girls.. this one is mine. And you.. aren't I enough for you? If you get distracted, you might forget which wish is important!'

But it never happens. He is never distracted from Lorem for all of his long and happy life.

While there are refreshing cool rains and wonderful winter snows, the skies are never grey whenever they are together."