The Final Endeavor of Felicity Frank

I

“Did you hear that someone made off with the Kennedy meteorite?” Ophrah Pololanik inquired of his wife, Mary Elizabeth.

Ophrah was a sprightly old fellow built like a scarecrow, whose pale, age-spotted hands quivered when he flapped them about, his voice filled with excitement. He looked a bit like a buzzard with his long neck, beaklike nose, and nearly bald head.

Mary Elizabeth, a grandmotherly lady with nut-brown eyes, a warm, brown complexion, and perfectly coiffed dark golden-brown hair, sighed and gave a wan smile. She loved her husband of 112 years, but sometimes she wished she could just have a nice, quiet breakfast.

“I don’t see what you expect us to do about it, Ophrah,” Mary Elizabeth returned. “We promised that this would be our last year of interfering in human affairs. They need to learn how to solve their crimes for themselves, and they don’t appreciate our meddling no-how. When we moved to the bayou, we were s’posed to take it easy.”

“Darlin’, you know I can’t take it easy,” Ophrah protested. “I live for sleuthin’, and you know you love makin’ magic. Anyways, I think I know who done it.”

“Well, who do you think done it?” Mary Elizabeth asked.

“This here caper has the cheap cologne of Felicity Frank all over it.”

“And just what would Felicity Frank want with a meteorite?”

“Lizzie, that nefarious red-haired hussy ain’t had no luck with Earthly men in a spell, so she’s on the prowl for a spaceman. And what better lure to reel in a spaceman than a space rock?”

“Well, what if that ole rock ain’t worth nothin’ to a spaceman? It’s only worth something to the Earthmen ‘cause it came from space.”

“I don’t reckon Felicity thought about that. Honestly, I don’t care a whit if Felicity wants to reel in a star-man. I just don’t want her grinding up that beautiful hunk of space rock that didn’t never do no harm to nobody to fuel her fool lust spells.”

“There’s no fool like an old fool,” Mary Elizabeth sighed. “I thought my Samantha Spade days were behind me, but since you’re dogged and determined to prove that Felicity Frank stole the Kennedy meteorite, I guess I ain’t gonna get no rest till we play private eye. Grab me an apple, the jar of honey, and the night oracle mirror, and we’ll see if we can’t suss what Felicity Frank’s been up to.”

II

Mary Elizabeth hummed, rocked, and sang a lilting song as she cut the apple into thirteen equal pieces. She positioned the pieces around the circumference of the black mirror that Ophrah placed in the center of the table. She drizzled honey over the apple slices and poured a puddle of honey in the middle. She waved her right hand three times in a clockwise motion over the mirror, then grabbed a pinch of pearlescent powder from a jar and sprinkled it in the air above the mirror as she cried out: “Rada, Rada, Rada! Quickly, quickly, quickly rewind time for me! Show me how the Kennedy Meteorite vanished from the Texas Air and Space Museum!”

“Well-a-day! It looks like I was right!” Ophrah declared smugly. Mary Elizabeth sent him a withering look. The pair watched the scene play out before them.

A heavyset, middle-aged woman, copious waves of red hair piled atop her head in a perfect beehive, her porcelain complexion made more pronounced by Cleopatra eyeliner and bright red lipstick, walked up the steps to the museum. She wore a hooded black velvet cape lined with wisteria satin over a sleek black dress, the hem of which fell at mid-calf level, and a pair of stylish black leather boots.

“Museum is closed for the day, Ma’am,” the guard said politely.

Captain Douglas Moore MacArthur was a tall, sinewy forty-five-year-old with steel-gray hair and piercing steel-gray eyes. He was career military and had six children, the youngest of whom was seven and the oldest of whom was thirteen. He was seven years divorced. Emma had run off with his second cousin, Audie Murphy MacArthur, pretty much as soon as she’d dropped Rudolph Valentino MacArthur into the world. Doug suspected that Rudy was Audie’s offspring, but the boy deserved better than to be raised by that woman-stealing meth-head. Besides, Rudy was a real panic with his never-ending roster of dumb jokes and harmless pranks. He was Doug’s son regardless of who the sperm donor was.

Doug re-oriented himself to the present time, finding himself staring into the glorious emerald-green eyes of a Rubenesque redhead who caressed his cheek with a black-gloved hand.

“You’re a good father, Douglas,” the woman praised in a melodic Cajun accent. “I know you wouldn’t never hold a child hostage if you knew it was suffering.”

“I…I sure wouldn’t, ma’am,” Douglas agreed, taken aback both by the redhead’s words and his own stammering delivery. “Is there a child being held hostage? Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“Darlin’, the child is being held hostage right in this very museum, right under your handsome nose. Day after day he sits neglected and unloved. I am here to take him home with me, and you and your team are gonna help me.”

“I ain’t sure how we can help, Ma’am, but I’m sure gonna try,” Douglas declared as the red-haired woman led him into the museum. “You got a name I can call you?”

“I’m Felicity, Hon. Felicity Frank.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Douglas affirmed, sounding more like a lovestruck schoolboy than a seasoned military officer. “That sure is a pretty name for a pretty lady.”

Felicity led Douglas to the display case containing the Kennedy meteorite.

“This little fella is the only known meteorite not to be named after a city, state, country, or such,” Douglas explained. “Most everyone agreed it oughta be named the Kennedy meteorite ‘cause it fell right near the new Kennedy memorial the day it was finished.”

“Yes, and once he was showered with love by folks who visited this fine museum,” Felicity said. “But now, ain’t nobody treats him like nothin’ but an ole hunk of dirt. This here space child has been languishing in this case long enough. I need you and your crew to assist me in setting him up in his new home.”

“I…I ain’t sure how we’d go about doin’ that, Miss Felicity, Ma’am,” Douglas balked. “This hunk of rock weighs half a ton.”

“Honey-child, don’t fret your pretty li’l head,” Felicity soothed, stroking Douglas’ cheek. “You got a dozen good, strong soldiers on duty, and I’m gonna need all hands on deck. Getting Mr. Kennedy to his new home ain’t gonna be a problem. I’ll just open a gate and we’ll make the journey to my place, lickety-split! I’m gonna need you folks to fine-tune his position so he’s in the optimal spot for collecting the vital force of the Cosmos. Then I’m gonna need y’all to help me replenish my own vital force, ‘cause making gates and levitating meteorites can wear a gal out. Now, I sense you got yourself some questions. Let Mama Felicity soothe your troubled mind.”

“Well, Miss Felicity, Ma’am, I ain’t exactly sure how we’re gonna get away with moving this here space child to your home. Even with gates and levitatin’ and vital forces and all that stuff that I don’t understand one little bit, this here museum is chock-a-block with security cameras. I simply cannot condemn my crew to life in jail no matter how much I wanna help you. I don’t understand quite why I wanna help you so much, but I really, really do. Still, it wouldn’t be right to sell my boys and girls down the river.”

“Why Douglas, I wouldn’t want your crew punished for doin’ what’s right. That’s why your security tapes will show the lot of you puttin’ up a fight against a small army of intruders dressed in black and wearing ski masks. You’ll all be found here in the morning, unharmed but unable to recall what happened. Your government will blame the Arabs, the Russians, the North Koreans, any country whose name this unfortunate nation’s forty-fifth so-called president can pull out of his rotting pumpkin-head.”

“Well, that sounds fine to me, Ma’am, but I surely wouldn’t want our nation to end up going to war over a misunderstanding.”

“Darling, there will be no evidence strong enough to start a war. It will be nothing but vague conjecture. Now, let’s call in your crew and move this big ole meteorite.”

III

The guard crew consisted of six men and six women varying in age between eighteen and forty-two. They were all as charmed by Felicity as Doug was, and eager to assist her once she explained that there would be no way the removal of the meteorite could have any negative repercussions.

The team looked on in awe as a bolt of energy burst from Felicity’s palms, destroying the plexiglass shell surrounding the meteorite. The sorceress bade the team members to gather around the meteorite. She chanted a spell and a vortex formed behind the group, pulling them and the meteorite through. Felicity and Douglas walked hand in hand through the vortex and it closed behind them.

Moments later, the startled soldiers arrived in a large room filled with a variety of plants and animals. An area had been cleared to accommodate the new resident.

“Now, boys and girls, I’m gonna levitate Mr. Kennedy, and y’all are gonna position him per my instructions,” Felicity informed the soldiers. “Oh, he’d be happy enough where he is, but I wanna make sure he is in the optimal spot to absorb all the energies he needs to live and thrive. Y’all gotta talk to me now, Mr. Kennedy, don’t be shy. We wanna make sure we get things just right so y’all will be the happiest of campers in your new home.”

During the next hour, Felicity levitated the meteorite and the soldiers moved it this way and shifted it that way. Finally, Felicity allowed the meteorite to settle to the smooth stone she had prepared for it. Sighing, she sank back on a Victorian fainting couch.

“Goodness me but lifting and levitating does give a girl the vapors,” she declared. “Now, why don’t we-all just refresh ourselves a bit? I’ve prepared drinks and snacks, and if any of you ready, willing, and single boys and girls would care to help a very grateful Gamma Iridian lady recharge her batteries, I’d be most grateful.”

IV

“Well, that certainly is enough of that,” Mary Elizabeth decreed, snapping her fingers. The scrying mirror went dark just as a tall and lean middle-aged black man with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair and a young black man with a formidable physique approached Felicity and began kissing and caressing her, fondling her ample breasts. “We can well guess what Felicity got up to after that moment. I would say you are entirely wrong about Felicity being unable to find an Earthly man to whet her whistle, Ophrah. On the night in question, she found seven Earthly men and six Earthly women to feed her need.”

Mary Elizabeth waved her hand in a counterclockwise motion over the scrying mirror. She sprinkled cinnamon over the apples and honey and clapped her hands. A group of imps appeared and proceeded to gleefully devour the feast. Mary Elizabeth picked up her shawl and threw it over her shoulders.

“I really didn’t want to travel today,” she sighed, “but I think we should pay Miss Felicity Hot-Pants a visit.”

“There really wasn’t no harm done, Darlin’, Ophrah insisted. “I agree with Felicity’s reasons fer kidnapping that there meteorite. He’s certainly gonna be much happier bein’ part of her menagerie than he was in that dusty case being ignored. Anyways, Felicity might be as hot to trot as an alley cat in heat, but she picked a willing and unattached peck of partners. I’m sure ain’t nobody minded feedin’ her need, and I’m sure she gave as good as she got. Our kind has to keep our batteries recharged, and facts is facts. An orgy is the easiest way to make that happen.”

“I ain’t planning to scold the old tart,” Mary Elizabeth countered. “I’d just like to see that fine specimen of a meteorite and hear her tell her tale. I’ve not visited Felicity since Hailey’s Comet last made the rounds. C’mon, Ophrah, grab yer sport coat and your hat and cane, and let’s go visit Felicity Frank.”

V

Felicity Frank, clad in a red silk dressing gown with a matching crushed velvet housecoat and red slippers topped with feathery pompoms, answered her door with a glass of sweet tea in hand.

“Ophrah and Mary Elizabeth!” Felicity greeted. “I was expecting you!”

“Well, let’s see it, Felicity, you underhanded tramp,” Mary Elizabeth demanded.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend whom you’ve not seen in thirty-four years?” Felicity protested. “Honestly, Ophrah, sometimes I don’t know where your other half keeps her manners. HE is right over there, basking in the sun with the other critters. His name is Mr. Kennedy, and he is very grateful to me for rescuing him from that stuffy old museum. Now, I’ve freshly made sweet tea and a plateful of my famous oatmeal cookies. I sent those dear soldiers off with a few dozen. They are such lovely, helpful humans. I was particularly fond of their captain, Mr. Douglas MacArthur. Not the one from this planet’s infamous second world war, of course. He was named in honor of that one.”

“We discerned your fondness for that particular human, although we didn’t see anything beyond your, shall we say, initiating a moment with a pair of stalwart commandos,” Ophrah revealed. “We don’t mind about that, Felicity. It’s your business and none of our own. However, there is a matter of mild concern, and…”

“What Ophrah will take a millennium to get around to addressing at this rate is the fact that your lips tend to loosen when you are in the throes of a lusty energy-gathering session,” Mary Elizabeth stated pointedly. “So, what information did you end up sharing with these friendly soldiers whom you invited to stay for coffee, cookies, and you after they helped you move the meteorite into his new home?”

“Oh, Mary Elizabeth, you old fusspot!” Felicity giggled. “I only shared that information with Douglas, and he isn’t going to remember. I told him that I’m from the planet Gamma Iridon and that I don’t mean nobody any harm. I told him that my kind need a constant supply of strong energy to survive on this planet. I said that some of Gamma Iridians prefer a slow, steady feed of energy straight from the planet’s mystical forces, but the easiest and most fun way to get a powerful boost is a friendly locking of loins, and the more the merrier. Oh, if I were the sort to settle down with one partner, Douglas would be perfect! He is such a gentleman and ever so kind and not at all hard on the eye. But you two know me. Variety is, as they say, the spice of life.”

“Yes, Darling, we know you all too well,” Mary Elizabeth agreed. “Now, as I recall, you said you weren’t going to meddle in the affairs of humans anymore. You were going to stay down in the bayou and concentrate on working your magic to heal the planet. What was it you said to me before we worked our last caper together? Oh, yes. You said: ‘this is the last endeavor of Felicity Frank, Mary Elizabeth!’ So, what, pray tell, happened to that grand declaration?”

“Why, nothing happened to it, Dear. I still stand by those words. But you will notice, while I may have helped myself to a mutually satisfying energy exchange with a small squadron of ready, willing, and quite able soldiers, I did not help them. I helped Mr. Kennedy. Mr. Kennedy is a meteorite, not a human.”

“I must say, he does seem very content,” Ophrah agreed. “He’s just a-baskin’ there in the sun with the cats and lizards enjoyin’ his ambient warmth. That is one happy space rock, and I say this was a darn good endeavor of your’n, Felicity.”

“I’m glad you think so, Ophrah,” Felicity said appreciatively. “You always were the nicest of my commanders. Mary Elizabeth, you always were an officious sourpuss, but you have a good heart. If I must be stuck on this ridiculous planet, I’m glad it’s with the two of you.”

Ophrah turned on the television to see reporters interviewing Captain Douglas Moore MacArthur, the man in charge of guarding the Texas Air and Space Museum when the Kennedy Meteorite was stolen.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you more, Ma’am,” Douglas apologized to Clare Wolanski, a petite, middle-aged newshound known for her platinum-blond bob and no-nonsense demeanor. “We’ve been ordered to silence by high command, and, frankly, you know as much as we do, ‘cause we only know what the tapes show. Me and my crew got double-teamed by a bunch of intruders all dressed in black. They didn’t hurt us none, but they musta drugged us, ‘cause we don’t remember a gol-durn thing. The day crew found us all curled up on the floor of the employee lounge, where the intruders left us with pillows, blankets, and a big plate of tasty oatmeal cookies. Whoever they were, they sure did treat us swell.”

Acknowledgments

This story was written using a prompt from the www.puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com blog

(The Final Endeavor of Felicity Frank)