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Mr. Wonderful
by Arthur Davis “Are those seats taken?” the woman asked, standing at the end of the aisle where I was sitting. What to answer? What to answer? What to answer? “Not yet.” “No, they’re not taken,” Caroline offered quickly, unable to sustain the tension. “No,” I finally responded, “and don’t mind her. She’s just being difficult,” I said to both women, then nodding tolerantly toward Caroline sitting to my left. I could feel the searing stare from Caroline’s grandmother sitting next to her. The two women were standing, waiting for me to get up and let them pass. “Of course we are delighted to have you both join us in our favorite row and, if you want, I can hold that mammoth tub of popcorn while you get settled.” The younger woman, a beautiful, trim figure in her thirties, much like Caroline, with intelligence streaming out of stunning sea-blue eyes, with what also might be a much older friend or relative at her side. “Should I trust him?” she asked Caroline. Now why would that be a concern? How could she possibly know? Without missing a beat Caroline answered, “You would have to be clear out of your mind to even think such a thing.” “That’s what I thought.” “Smart girl,” Caroline said. “I have no idea who these two women are,” I said to the popcorn princess. “They just plopped themselves down next to me a few seconds before you got here. Lord only knows where they came from.” Nearly everyone in the row directly in front of me turned, quickly taking in both women next to me and the two standing at my side. Caroline slowly lifted her left hand and the engagement ring in front of my face. “No idea at all? Really?” “Oh, yeah, now I remember.” Caroline fisted up and gently punched my shoulder. “Ouch!” I exaggerated. “I get punched a lot,” I said to the popcorn princess and her companion. “He doesn’t get punched nearly enough,” Caroline’s grandmother blurted out. Two women sitting in front of her turned, laughing. “He’s such an evil person,” she added, causing more heads to turn. “Is he always like this?” Caroline considered the princess’s question. I could tell she had taken a liking to both women. They were close to a twin pair, like she and her grandmother. “Only when we are out with grownups.” “I can see how that would be a concern,” the princess said. “When he’s home asleep, he’s an angel.” “Nonsense. He’s the devil.” “We already guessed that,” the popcorn princess’s friend acknowledged to Caroline’s grandmother. “So, what’s the deal with your offer to hold my popcorn?” the princess turned and asked me. “There is no deal, as you so suspiciously put it. In fact, I think you will find my terms to be quite reasonable.” “Terms! You have terms?” the princess asked, unable to contain her surprise. “I have expenses and obligations, so I naturally have terms.” Caroline raised her hand, and interrupted, “Before he goes any further, just a suggestion.” “Yes?” the princess asked. “You should run away now, and as fast as possible, and take any seat in the theater and please, please, please take me and my grandmother with you.” There was a deafening pause as the popcorn princess considered her options. Heads were turned from seats near and far. “Thanks, and while I appreciate your concern,” the princess said, straightening up, “I’m really curious about the terms.” “So am I,” her companion added. “So am I,” a woman directly behind Caroline blurted out. “We all want to know the terms,” a man two rows down said, laughing. “You poor woman,” a woman two rows behind us, rang out. “Hey, how come no one ever takes my side?” I asked anyone who would listen. “Because it takes anyone about thirty seconds to figure out who they are dealing with and just as quickly ask themselves how come I haven’t strangled you in your sleep.” “Oh,” I said, turning to the two women standing. “She’s tried. They all try. I’m pretty sure my mother tried on more than one occasion.” Now everyone from rows around was laughing, except for Caroline’s grandmother. I could tell she wished she had accesses to a sharp instrument. “I can see why,” the princess said. I was all alone here. Two women on my left were about to strangle me, and two strangers were about to urge them on. “So, to the terms?” I asked. “Finally,” a different guy said. “I can hardly wait to hear this.” Caroline nodded approvingly to the popcorn princess. “Me too.” “So, there are obviously some various fixed and variable expenses I will incur when I take on the responsibility of securing and protecting your popcorn. They include, but are certainly not limited to, taking on adequate insurance. There is the City’s and State’s onerous and unconscionable Popcorn Transfer Tax. There are a myriad of registration and administrative fees I have to advance just to file the proper forms which I then have to register with the owners of this noteworthy establishment; and, depending on how long you take to get to your seats, I might have to hire temporary help to hold the popcorn and share the responsibility. Then there is the more problematic question of whether or not the popcorn itself is your rightful property! Who knows, my act of kindness may entangle me in a broad, international, criminal enterprise masterminded by the both of you where the future of this truly innocent soul is irreparably compromised.” The guy two rows down got up applauding. So did his friend. A dozen women nearby looked like they wanted my name and address so they could hunt me down, while pondering where the police were at times like this. “You poor, poor woman,” the princess said to Caroline and unceremoniously dropped the tub of popcorn in my lap. “So, okay, I agree to your insane terms, and I expect in turn not to lose a single kernel of my popcorn,” she said and squeezed by me. Her companion followed, offering Caroline’s grandmother a heartfelt, “We’re here for you.” “Okay,” the popcorn princess acknowledged, holding out both hands in my direction as soon as she dropped into her seat. “Let’s have it.” “Here you go, and out of the kindness of my, my, my, ah…” “Heart?” Caroline offered. “Is that the word you’re looking for?” “Yeah, that thing and, under one condition I am willing to waive my modest fees.” “Which is?” the princess asked. “Which is that you say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Wonderful,’” I answered, handing over the tub of popcorn with as big a grin as I could muster. Caroline quickly buried her face in my neck. There was nowhere else for her to hide. “Thank you my very, completely, and utterly adorable, Mr. Wonderful.” “Dear God, how quickly you’ve gone over to the dark side,” Caroline’s grandmother bemoaned, grabbing a handful of popcorn as it was passed in front of her to the popcorn princess. I was surrounded by stares and giggles until, finally, the lights dimmed, and Caroline cuddled closer. “I love you.” My shoulder still hurt where she hit me. I might have to go on disability and give up my lucrative cliff-diving practice for the blind and disadvantaged. “I haven’t the faintest idea why.” “None of us have the faintest idea either,” the woman directly behind Caroline added. More laughter. A hundred pairs of eyes were watching me like I was about to set the planet on fire. Caroline planted a long, tender kiss on my cheek. “You want know why I love you?” I nodded my head cautiously, making sure not to say another word that would get me in more trouble. “Because you can’t help being yourself.” “Oh.” I would have never guessed. “Still can’t imagine why he hasn’t been strangled in his sleep,” her grandmother added, with just the right touch of affection. “Well, the night is young, and we shall see,” Caroline said, and took my hand in hers as the lights dimmed to darkness and the screen exploded with possibilities. |
Arthur Davis is a management consultant and has been quoted in The New York Times, Crain’s New York Business and interviewed on New York TV News Channel 1. Over eighty of his stories have been published and nominations received for the Pushcart Prize, and was awarded Honorable Mention in Best American Mystery Stories 2017.
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