CHAPTER FOURTEEN

AN ARRESTING DEVELOPMENT

            Muk stood at the top of the narrow and steep driveway. He was waving to a delivery truck, directing the driver to keep coming his way. The truck was delivering the base pieces for the Freemani sculpture. Nick and Nora were helping, running about and barking their directions.

            It was a lazy day. This delivery was the sole item on the agenda. Muk and Pedro were on hand to supervise. Blu stayed back at Rancho Silver Rio. She wanted to play in the kitchen.

In the center of a wide circular driveway that joined the three large homes was the expanse that would site Muk's sculpture. The landscaping was torn up. A series of open trenches exposed the electrical cable and piping for the light fixtures.  The axis, a four-inch diameter pipe rose from a deep foundation cast in concrete. Only four feet at the bottom would be visible and Muk had streamed the lines to infer something classic and formal.

The truck was delivering a visual base, an organic shaped cradle that would serve as a launching pad to Muk's sculpture. Muk liked to spread the Love around and he commissioned some pals to design this section of the piece. Ball-Nogues is an architectural firm with both feet in the fine art world. They were media stars with groovy museum commissions that allowed freedom and creativity. Just when they were poised for the big time commissions, the economy tanked and no one had any money to hire them. Genius is always last to be recognized.

Muk liked to use his hands and make things. It was his favorite part of the process. He liked to hang out with all of the shop and business owners, a breed of people who keep their word and deliver as they promised. This truck offered a delivery from Jack Brogan's shop. Brogan, a senior look-alike to the Marlboro Man, was a long time fabricator to the LA art world with a specialization in resins, fiberglass and anything with a fetish for finish. Brogan has made artwork for some of the greats, like John McCracken, Robert Irwin and Larry Bell to name a few. He had built the Ball-Nogues design for Muk. Three of Jack's assistants unloaded the many large puzzle-like pieces, all fairly lightweight.

It was a beautiful day, for an easy day. In every direction, there was not a white puffy cloud to counter the everlasting sky blue. Muk glanced up at Cosima's house, the most grand of the three on the compound. Squinting against the sunlight, Muk saw her maid in an upstairs window and he waved. She waved in return and held it. He had thought he had seen her several times earlier this morning, out of the corner of his eye, watching him. The last time that he was at the mansion, Muk and the maid had formed a quick but strong connection, one of those simple, brief and beautiful moments between strangers when all defenses are down, life is good and we all know that we are all connected in the grand scheme of the universe.

The delivery was complete and all parts were accounted for. Muk put a six-pack in the cab. Everyone laughed when Muk reminded them that the beer was intended for the end of the day, not now.

As the truck rambled down the driveway, Muk had half a mind to start assembling the artwork. He and Pedro could easily put a dent in the job. Tomorrow they had a small crew scheduled to assemble and complete the base. Eh. A plan is a plan.

Pedro's phone rang. Muk knew it was Blu because Pedro greeted her by name. She was telling him something grave, urgent and important because his smile faded fast. He jammed a finger into his open ear so that he wouldn't miss anything. He ended the call with a dour "Cool. We'll talk soon. Any developments, call." He folded his phone. "Muk, Ali BeeDee has been arrested. It was just posted on TMZ."

"Poor kid!"

"Blu is eye-balling the story."

"By tomorrow, it'll be a big one."

"Worse. She said TMZ has a video crew there, at Ali's place. There was a bit of a stand-off and scuffle before the cops got her cuffed."

Muk wanted to laugh but he knew her trouble, "Wow. The whole nine yards. Ali is one girl who is made for TV. Poor kid." Muk was slapped silly. Can you imagine if your life was suddenly upended, drastically and publicly like that? He liked Ali BeeDee. She was a frail eagle, a wounded warrior, still flying. Frail Eagle. He liked the poetry of that.

Muk made a quick tour around the construction site. It took all of a minute. Everything was in order. "Let's blow."

Pedro yelled, "Yo-Yo!" and clapped fast twice. The dogs came running. Everyone settled tight into the El Camino and sailed for home.

As they were cruising along Beverly just past the Grove, Muk gave Pedro the high eyebrow wink. "Hungry? Lunch?"

"Totally thinking."

Pedro punched a button key on his phone. When it stopped ringing and Blu answered in code "T-H-X", he replied, "Hungry boys."

She responded, "No less."

"See you soon, like twenty."

"Grits waiting."

"Garlic Cheesy Grits?!"

"And ribs."

"And ribs!?"

Blu was laughing as she hung up the phone. She liked to cook and she understood the power of Lunch over the American male. She was working with a Julia Child recipe for BBQ sauce. Blu, a acolyte of Julia Child, clucked just like the dowager chef. It was a pretty good impersonation.

Muk was driving. He had only heard Pedro's end of the conversation, but he hit the gas nonetheless. Home. Comfort. Lunch. What else mattered?

Pedro floated, "A little tennis?"
"Only after a long sweet nap on a very full belly."

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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

© Gordy Grundy, All Rights Reserved

www.Gordy Grundy.com

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