Memories of a Life That Never Happened

Chapter 23 - Dispatch

To the cadence of a spooky tune, a huntsman entered the scene, approaching the peacocks as they preened their plumes. He praised them and the birds, vain and flattered, flaunted around their admirer.  

Figuring the peacocks were too heavy for a speedy escape, the hunter attacked them. He chased and captured until there was only one fowl left.  

Perched high on a tree, the white peacock witnessed horrified his friends be caged. Gullible, it sought a deal with the hunter. He would trade its unique feathers for the liberty of the flock. Promises made, the peacock surrendered. But once the hunter locked the last bird in, he let no other out.  

The pale peacock cried. He put their lives in the hands of a man with no honor and they were all prisoners now. The dance ended with the failed martyr perched on an ornate cage, weeping over its diamond leash. It was a doleful story told in a marvelous way. Once the music stopped, the room refilled with light, cheers and a standing ovation.  

For a minute or two, Nicholas rejoiced in the success of his show. Then, one by one, he studied the expressions around the table and where he expected to meet bedazzlement, he found silent disconcert. He followed the direction of everyone's gaze and he too was shocked.  

"Either my memory fails me or I have not met you before, gentlemen." His glaring eyes were two slits.  

Questionable as the presence of the Ortiz family had been, it was consensual that those two boys, who appeared to have been raised by someone as wild but not as chummy as Tarzan, did not belong there.  

Both had dirty rags for clothes and their scrawny bodies had disease written all over them. They were purple-patched with bruises and one of the boys had a sinister scar that stretched from the corner of his left eye down to his earlobe. Even though half his face hid under a baseball cap, Theo noted the other his sickly, mottled skin.  

Everyone was stunned when Leo spoke first.  

"This is all my fault." He raised a hand in the air. "Where are my manners? I should've introduced my guests."  

"Your guests?"  

Theo saw his father's eyebrows soar up and almost touch his hairline.  

Leo dropped his arm and nodded, indifferent to the taut eyes fixed on him. "Now we have four local representatives attending your event. Wasn't that your original plan?" he asked Nicholas with the audacity typical of a spoiled eighteen-year-old. 

Nicholas shook a finger at Leo. "Young man, you are here because of my son."  

His other hand braced the edge of the table, as though he was unconsciously trying to keep from getting up.  

"You are friends with him and you are welcome here. I'm afraid the same does not apply to these little-." A grimace suggested that the putrid smell that the boys exhaled had just reached his nostrils. "Buddies of yours."  

Unapologetically disgusted, Nicholas turned his nose up at the boys.  

"Oh but," Leo started to reply and Nicholas was quick to shush him.  

"In case you failed to notice, this party is for a selective audience. I personally invited Escobar and his family, as a reward for his commitment." 

Nicholas extended an open hand across the table, toward Mica. "This party was doomed until this young lady's father returned to finish his work." 

Theo was not entirely sure, but Mica seemed to blush a little. 

"I'm sure these friends of yours did not contribute to this celebration in any way. So, unless they bought tickets, I am afraid their presence here is inappropriate."  

Nicholas hardly moved. A minor tilt of his chin toward the intruders was all it took. Faster than a hummingbird's wings, guards zoomed to the boys. Despite the predictable ending, Nick was daft enough to challenge his father.  

"Come on! Let them enjoy the party. What's the big deal?"  

"Nick, just don't!" Carolina ordered.  

Mica was impressed with the anger registered in her voice. She would never have imagined such a chilling tone coming out of those mannerly lips. 

The two bouncers, the tallest, strongest men Theo had ever seen, clasped the intruders' shoulders. It was a miracle such menacing guys managed to walk around unnoticed. Perhaps, Theo speculated to his own amusement, they could even take out Mica's surplus friend.  

Abel all but hid under the table when he recognized the man who had kicked him out. Mica shot him a glance and turned her attention back to the quarry.  

Nicholas bowed to the bouncers.  

Part of Theo envied these boys' nerves. They sprung up with a careless behavior, smirking to Nick and Leo.  

"We won't let this lie," the scarred one told Nick.  

Snatching the misfits by their arms, the security team nudged them out.  

The one with the cap jerked free of the bouncer's grip. "See you later, old man," he told Nicholas.  

Poisonous comments and flustered looks spread through the neighboring tables. People were staring. Intrigued, some people fixed their eyes on the backs of the expelled kids, who paraded toward the exit as celebrities on the red carpet. Others targeted the Chusters' table.  

"Now, you two." Nicholas pointed to Nick and Leo.  

What followed was a whispered exchange of accusations galvanized by peppery tempers.  

Mica decided it was best to tune out. That Leo kid had bad news written all over him. As for Nick, what was he doing, defending those scums? He was turning to be much different than she had expected. Not that Mica disapproved pushing the boundaries a little. That could be brave and even attractive. However, his gratuitously scrappy behavior struck her as disrespectful. Maybe Sandra was right. Nick seemed much more bratty than charming.  

A few feet away, Mica caught the white peacock staring at her. The ballerina smiled, beckoned her to come over. Mica looked over her shoulders and saw no one behind. Again, the ballerina signaled with her hand. Indulging a funny thought, Mica pointed to her own chest.  

"Me?" she mouthed. 

To her surprise, the ballerina nodded. Without saying a word, Mica eased away from the table. She stayed close enough so that Abel could follow her with his eyes while remaining seated.  

The ballerina's voice came out as harmonious as her dancing.  

"Are you Mica?" She had a foreign accent. 

"Yes," Mica replied, wondering how this woman knew her name.  

"Then I have something for you." A white cotton bag dangled in her hand. 

"What's this?" 

"That, I do not know. I was asked to deliver it to you." Then, handing it over to Mica, she added, "Oh, you are supposed to open it at home."  

Mica pulled apart the straps of the bag to examine its content. She retrieved a chunky, sealed envelope. What was that? Scribbled in black, she read the same warning. Open at home. She tucked it back in the bag.  

"Who is it from?" Mica tipped her head back up to the dancer. But she was standing there alone now. The peacock had vanished.