Milo... An Education

        By Pattie Lawler

 

            Albany set her empty coffee mug down. “What are your plans for today?”

            “Aside from being with you?”

            “No, that’s good enough. Fanny and I have appointments to have our teeth whitened in an hour: you’re welcome to join us and not miss a thrilling second, or I can join you afterward. Fanny’s begging off the rest of the day, the coward, because of some upcoming tests.”

            Milo nodded. “The state likes to make sure she’s meeting all her levels of education. Things are even tougher in England, but as you’re probably aware, she’s miles ahead of her peers. Is there something you’d like to do?”

            “Yes. I would like to be educated.”

            “Oh?”

            She nodded, pushing back from the table. “I’m not so ahead of my peers with regards to knowledge of Milo, so I’d like to expand upon my crash course. Would you mind?”

            Milo smiled. “How could I?”

            “Good. We’ll start when I get back.”

 <0> 

They moved to the library after lunch. Albany took one of the chairs as Milo sank into the leather chair behind the desk. She didn’t waste a second in questioning him.

“Do you know what I want?”

Milo reached for a pen and pulled a pad closer before meeting her eyes, his expression expectant.

            She blinked at him. “What are you doing?”

            “Getting ready for the list.”

            Albany stared for a second and then laughed. “You’re silly.”

            “I’m serious!”

            “Well, you’ll be pleased to know that what I would like is probably already in the room.”

            “Oh?” His eyebrows rose.

            She nodded. “Aside from you, I would like to see a manuscript, and then I would like to see your favorite. Assuming it’s here and not at Owswell.”

“Why don’t I just show you my favorite? Why two different ones?”

“Because I’m going to want to touch one. I’m assuming I would not be welcome to touch your favorite.”

            Milo rose, turning for the bookshelf. “What’s mine is yours.”

            “You know what I mean.”

            He went to a lit display case and lifted the glass lid. “This is an antiphonal, as you’re doubtless aware, and you’re welcome to touch it.”

“Sans gloves.”

            He nodded, moving to stand beside her. “The main reason for gloves, aside from the obvious fear of human contaminants to the vellum, is for your protection. The method of making vellum involves some rather nasty processes. The occasional touch, in this toxic day and age, wouldn’t hurt, but why take the chance?”

“You do.”

            “In gloves, yes.” He set the tall book on the edge of the desk and began flipping through the pages. “I turn the pages on the display books occasionally so that no one page suffers from exposure. They’re perfectly preserved in their cases, but old habits…you know.”

“I’m actually fascinated by your hobby, Milo, and am excited about you teaching me. And feel free to take advantage of your student. We can dispose of that whole student/teacher thing.” She smiled up at him in time to see him bending to place a kiss on her head.

            “And I’m excited about your vocation.” He returned his attention to the book and gestured for her to rise for better viewing. “The larger portion of my collection, as opposed to my ancestors’, is magical in nature. This antiphonal is no exception. My rather pathetic skills can activate this one, but I’m willing to bet the bank that you’ll do it justice.”

            Albany knew that the book he had chosen was a hymnal, designed to be seen from a distance. The large format assured that those furthest from the choirmaster were able to follow along. She had preformed once where an antiphonal was displayed during the concert, though it faced the audience.

            She looked down at the crowded page. The musical selections on both pages were corralled within a lush forest setting. The top of the pages represented the tips of the trees. Birds of every color, size and description filled the green limbs, their beaks open in song. Following the trunks downward revealed squirrels, lizards, frogs and upon the forest floor deer grazed, foxes peeked from behind trees and hares ran for cover. The back of a lone woodsmen, an ax over his shoulder, could be seen leaving the page. She could almost imagine turning the page and seeing his front.

            “It’s lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

            “The art is exceptional. But it’s nothing compared to when it’s sung.”

            “Oh? What happens then?”

            He smiled. “Find out.”

            Albany tore her attention from the art to the music. The tune came quickly; the ornate Latin took a little longer. In the end, however, she thought she recognized the beginnings of Vespers which hastened the process of translation. She sang it through in her head several times and then looked at Milo.

            “Should we call Fanny?”

            He beamed as he hurried around the desk and pushed a button. “Fanny, would you join us in the library?”

            It only took a minute for Fanny to stand framed in the doorway. She looked from one adult to the other, waiting.

            In reply, Albany placed a finger to the page and began singing.

            Misty tendrils lifted off the vellum, spiraling upward and the chatter of birds filled the air. Around them, the ghostly forms of trees crowded the space and deer wandered amidst the furniture. Fanny gasped, moving into the room, her face suffused with pleasure. Albany’s song swelled as the woodmen strolled by, a brace of rabbit tied to his belt. 

            “It’s like Sleeping Beauty,” Fanny laughed, reaching for Milo’s hand. The simile was complete when a bird swept down to alight on her should and warble in tune with Albany.

            It seemed that all of nature was represented in the hymn and the birdsong became a chorus in support of the singer. Captivated by the magic she directed, Albany’s hands rose, her palms facing the canopy. Birds rushed down, vying for a place of honor as the prayer reached its ecstatic climax.

            The moment passed, the phrase ended, and the library was a library again.

            “Wow,” Fanny whispered.

            Milo hugged her. “Glad you were here to hear that.”

            They looked at Albany, who was staring at the page in awe. She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if this had been used during mass.”

            “I’m sure it was,” Milo replied. “And I’m equally sure that anyone who noticed simply attributed their vision to the power of prayer.”

            But Albany continued to shake her head. “That was incredible.”

            “And it was your singing that made it that way.”

<0> 

            The hour was approaching four when Jason opened the car door for Albany. She was late to the theater, but not horribly so. Had her costume been very involved she would have been in a panic, but she also knew that had it been, she would not have been late. Her lessons in all things ‘Milo Scarlet’ had ended as she knew they would—in their bedroom—and she didn’t regret a stolen second.

            Harry smiled in greeting, his hand on the door when a woman suddenly placed herself in Albany’s path. Jason was there in a second, a solid wall between her and the smirking unknown, leaving Albany with an impression of honey-colored hair and a well-rounded figure.

            “So you’re Albany Wendel,” was the woman’s opening line.

            “Move along,” Jason rumbled. “I have no problem calling the police.”

            Albany felt the presence of her driver, Keith, at her back and peered over Jason’s arm at the woman. “Should I know you?”

            “No, but I used to date Milo...so we have something in common.”

            That was enough information and Albany snorted. “No. We have nothing in common.” She looked up at her bodyguard. “You can remove this trash, and if anything gets broken, I’ll be happy to swear she came at you with a knife.”

            “We’ve got plenty of those,” Harry offered, helpfully. “Some props look so real there’s no way to know if they’re harmless or not.”

            The woman paled, but then tossed her hair. “You talk big, surrounded by men, but wait-”

            “For?”

            “Milo to get bored. He’ll dump you in a second.”

            “Like he did you?” Albany started forward. “Get out of my way.” Behind her came sputtering, and Jason’s blatant threats.

            Harry yanked the door open, following her into the house. “Did you know the announcement’s in tomorrow’s paper?” he called as she stalked away.

            “I do now.”

<0>            

            In her room, dressed and ready for the curtain, she waited for Jason. Her bodyguard had sent the unknown woman packing, but Albany wanted to make sure that the meeting went no further. Milo didn’t need to know.

            Jason knocked, and she opened the door for him. He held a bottle of water for her, and one for himself. He crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, drinking as he sat.

            “I know you and Simon would never betray me or Milo,” she began, uncapping her water, “but I need to say this, more for me than you. There is no reason for Milo to know about this or even Simon. I’m sure she meant only mental harm, and I’m pretty immune to that.”

            Jason nodded, still drinking.

            “I am surprised I haven’t been accosted before this, but with the announcement in the paper and all, it’ll only get worse from here.”

            “I agree,” Jason said, recapping his empty bottle. “Simon and I have discussed it and think we’re as ready as we can be.”

            The PA interrupted them. “Curtain in five.”

            Jason rose, beating the plastic bottle against his leg. “I’ll talk to Harry, let him know, too.” 

            “Thanks.”

 <0> 

            Milo fingered the coral-colored roses on Albany’s dressing table. “I hear you had a visitor.”

            Her shoulders drooped as she tugged at her bowtie. “Who told you?”

            “She called me.”

            Albany laughed, unbuttoning her shirt. “Well, I have to give her credit for more balls than brains.”

            “Did she say anything hurtful?”

            “Nope. Verbal diarrhea is all.”

            “But you weren’t going to tell me.”

            “Nope. I can handle my own problems, Milo. And what I can’t, Jason can.”

            “No, Albany. We’re partners. Your problems are my problems just like mine are yours.”

            “Milo. If one of my exes were to approach you, would you want to tell me?”

            “No, but I would.”

            She shook her head but relented. “Fine.”

<0>  

            Simon and Jason each shook hands with Elliot as the artist joined them beside the opera house.

            “Do you guys always have to wait for them, out here like this?”

            Simon jerked his head at the steel door. “It’s hot as blazes in there. But yes, we wait.” He shrugged. “Part of the job.”

            “Well, I hope you get paid a lot. Now, what did you want to see me about?”

            “It’s simple, really,” Simon said. “You’re going to tell me how you knew about Cameron Philips’ death and then I’m going to decide if we need to contact the police or not.”

 

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