"It was the best of times. it was the worst of times," so the words on the old pages go. But in these times, at this time, Bollero was flabbergasted! At first lost for words, not knowing what to think, my sudden arrival so unexpected.
"Gerald, wha...wha..." he sputtered, a vein popping out on his forehead. He couldn't believe his eyes, now popping out in rhythm with the vein.
"Just calm the nerves," I deadpanned quietly. "It's not becoming...not like you."
Bollero strained to collect himself, finally calming down a bit. "But...but -- THIS is not LIKE YOU! You only show up when there's a posting to be made, but you just MADE ONE a month ago, and you never make another one so soon again, not at least for several months...even a year. So why are you here now? Certainly not to ask me to make a posting for you." Then a harsh thought overtook him. "Oh, God!...Don't tell me you're here to tell me...tell us..that you've sold..."
Bollero couldn't finish the sentence, nearly choking on the thought.
"No, I haven't sold the place," I assured him. "I'm too fond of it...of you,, the most dedicated of butlers, then some...the rest of the staff." Hearing these words, Bollero exhaled a gigantic sigh of relief, allaying the abrupt, desprate need for a stiff martini the thought had brought on.. "And yes, I'm here for you to make a posting."
"God, so quickly after the last one. The followers will have heart attacks!"
"Just as long as you don't have one, my friend. This posting is quite important. One for the times."
"The times?" Bollero blinked, then a brightness crept into his eyes. "Ah, now I get it," he said, a certain expectant cheer in his tone. "You must be speaking of the coming holidays. You want a post getting the jump on all the other authors. A clever, persuasive narrative as to why your book would make the best gift for Christmas -- with plenty of HO, HO, HO cheer from Santa egging people on to buy your book for all their friends and relatives, making for them the most perfect merry Yuletide."
""No...No...No!" I grimaced. "Nothing so crass...so brazen! Of Good And Evil is not a Christmas book, but a book for all seasons, for all reasons. Anyway, some gurus -- from India, I think, straight out of The Razor's Edge -- have passed the word that my novel has great appeal to turkeys -- giving them sort of a last hurrah...a last uplifting of glory, a kind of solemn courage, like found in kamikaze pilots, before sacrificing themselves as bird patriots, stuffed with goodies and sometimes overcooked, to be placed on the holiday table before a ravenous family tribe fighting over the white meat...occasionally the drum sticks.. If there was a holiday for the book's appeal, according to these gurus, it would be Thanksgiving, not Christmas, but this posting has nothing to do with holidays."
Bollero flinched, as if taking a blow to the head, not liking being wrong, taking great pride in the accuracy of his guesses. A long pause followed, a deliberating silence. Then Bollero's eyes lit up again. "The posting has to do with the movie!" he exclaimed, confidently. "Yeah -- that's IT! The movie is about to be released, and you're going to dazzle people with the story behind it. Am I not right?"
"Wrong again, Kemo Sahbee. Still no cigar."
Bollero's eyes took on a pissed-off look, on the verge of recoiling. "Then WHAT?!...dammit!"
"Calm down and I'll tell you."
"All right," Bollero pouted. "OKAY!"
"It's a new slant on Of Good And Evil. A discovery -- deuces wild! Perhaps the most important element of all about the book-- save for rabid seekers of daring action and gut-gripping romance, who would buy the book without it -- to grab people's interest in reading the thriller.
"I was being interviewed by this gung-ho reporter, the kind who goes ape about everything. He wanted an EXCLUSIVE...a real SCOOP...from me on Of Good And Evil -- something that I hadn't mentioned to anyone, anywhere, before. I told him that I had already covered with others everything that was possible to mention that was significant about the novel, covered it all until I was blue in the face. Told him that anything exclusive had long been exhausted. That there were simply no scoops left. But this persistent reporter wouldn't sit still for this. I thik he was ego driven, pushing for the Pulitzer Prize.. He insisted I go into deeper thinking in search of something new that hadn't been revealed before and, reluctantly, I did just that."
"And I bet you were gurgling a martini all the while," Bollero interjected in a last frustrated attempt to guess correctly. His bad guesses were taking its toll.
"Yes, as you obviously need to be gurgling a martini right now. But my martini helped me in my uncanny focus. Helped me in searching the shadowy reaches of my mind for wandering or random thoughts stumbling about which, when consolidated, gave me a new and significant slant on what I had actually written. It became evident that the notion that evil succeeds when good people do nothing is really what my novel is all about, something I never mentioned before. That and that the ruthless use good as a veil masking their evil, disguising evil so it appears to be good, turning evil into good. And that some of the people whom are basically good, because or ignorance or gullibility, fall like suckers for this sinister deception, thus unwittingly help evil to triumph., making them as evil as the evil they're against."
Bollero was gawking at me, a bit breatlhless and rather mystified, not even knowing what to guess about as I added, "That was my deuces wild scoop for the reporter.That's my new posting. Now post it, after you have collected yourself with a martini...or two. And don't forget in your posting to mention where people can get a copy of Of Good And Evil. In the U.S. at http://www.amazon.com/dp/160976014X ; in the UK at http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/16076014X. Or from other outlets by clicking the "Buy Book Now" heading at the top of the blog's Home Page.
For a moment, Bollero and I remained still, encased in quietude. Then I rubbed my fingers over the prickly-like whiskers about my chin. "I need to shave."
"I need that martini," Bollero answered. No bad guessing there.