I'm led down a cobblestone walk whose stones glow orange-white in the duelling lights of torches and moon. In the distance, there's the sound of music and chatter, but I don't have time to sort it out all before my escort's opening a side door with the type of arch you usually see in churches.
"Second door on your left" are his parting instructions before he heads back to what I'm guessing is the main entrance.
Although I'm curious to look around, something tells me it's best just to follow directions and so I do, beelining straight for the indicated door without so much as glancing at the hallway.
I open the door to a room whose first impression is a study of some kind.
Cherry wood dominates the paneling, taking up the floor what I can see of the walls, which isn't much, because the west end of the room is occupied by a humongous tapestry on which a train of richly dressed elephants march majestically through a marketplace and the east end holds a massive poster that, when I look at it, appears to be some type of family tree. I can't make out the names though, because the font is too hard to read. Not clear like Melody's calligraphy.
There's a book shelf here too, next to the family tree with lots of hardback books that look like they're either dusted often or read often.
My eyes travel to the desk next. Like all the other wood in this room, it's cherry and it runs parallel to the immense picture window that offers a great view of the lawn beyond. I can see people outside, though from this distance, they still look like nothing more than brightly colored fireflies lazily floating from place to place.
It's a rainbow spectrum that fits rather well with this room, with the multi-colored stained glass lamps that provide the only lighting and give the room a certain coziness.
"Enjoying the view?"
I start. What the hell?
I turn around to see a cheerfully grinning man, about six and a half feet tall and thin, the dark purple suit and gold tie he wears making him look even slimmer. I'd say he's about middle-age from the crinkles about his eyes and grey mixing with the sandy base of his hair to create a rather distinguished look.
"Forgive me, Mr. Hunter. I'm Jean Suchet, Melody's father."
As I return the greeting and shake the hand he extends to me, I notice not only his firm grip but the way he didn't use his title when introducing himself. It makes me like him all the more than I did from what little Melody's told me about him.
"Let's take a seat, shall we?"
He indicates the burgundy leather chairs on either side of the desk and I take the one closest to the door.
Once we're settled in our seats, he smiles and pulls out a box from somewhere on the other side, flipping it open.
"Fancy a cigarette?"
"Sure."
He hands me one, along with a surprisingly battered Zippo lighter and we each light up in turn.
I take a drag.
It's the smoothest, most flavorful cigarette I've ever had. I'm not surprised considering who this is, but it's still a delight to discover anyway.
"Not bad, eh? The lighter was my father's, by the way. A great man and a shrewd businessman."
I nod and exhale another stream of smoke.
"Thanks. These are incredible. Where did you get them?"
"Turkey."
Heh. I love the way he says Turkey, so off-handedly, like saying he gets them at the corner store.
From there, we fall into a discussion of our favorite fishing spots and swapping stories. It turns out he's fished a lot of the same local places I have which surprises me until he explains.
"When Melody decided she wanted to go to college here, April and I decided to do shopping around for a place nearby. There wasn't anything on the market that we really wanted, so I bought the land this house sits on and had it built over the summer."
....He had this freaking palace built in a single summer?!?!
"I had to hire a lot of crews, but it was worth it. When I wasn't here supervising the construction, I'd go fishing at places I found about from the local residents, which is how I came to hit the same spots you have."
"That's just amazing."
He smiles and shrugs, fiddling with the lighter, our spent cigarettes in an unobtrusive sterling silver ashtray on the desk.
"It wasn't my doing. It was the men I hired. And anyway, I have a question for you, Nick."
"Yeah?" A question? For me?
"How do you fly?"
....
What the hell?! He didn't just... he couldn't....
But my lips are forming the words in a dazed whisper against his serene smile.
"On the wings of the Scarlet Dragon to Paradise."
He's still smiling while I sort through my shock.
"You're.... you're a member of Theta Sigma Phi?! How?!"
He laughs, a pleasant, mellow laugh and that first grin makes itself known again.
"It's quite simple, Nick. Although I was born in Italy, I went to school in the United States. Although I could've gone to any Ivy League school without question, but I was interested in getting to know normal people, so I went to the best public college in the Midwest, where I joined Theta Sigma Phi, Beta Kappa chapter. Then for my graduate work, I went to the University of Venice in Italy."
"What was your major?" A silly question, but I just have to know.
Another grin, "Theatre Arts, with a concentration in Performance. My best role was Sky Masterson in my college's production of Guys and Dolls."
Somehow it makes sense, strange as it seems, that this confident, carefree baron who likes to fish and know people like me would be a drama geek.
"But that's not all, Nick."
"Oh?"
With a quiet smile, he pulls out a drawer and takes out a small black velvet box, setting it before me.
"Go on and open it."
My breath catches when I open the box. It's not a shock and it's a shock all at the same time. The ring shimmering back up at me, with its five-pointed diamond star and the ruby dragons clutching to the gold on either side....
"Yes. I'm also a member of the Pentacle of Light."
...The Pentacle of Light. Theta Sigma Phi's ruling council of five. Unlike other fraternities who might let it be known who their national leaders are, the identities of Theta Sigma Phi's Pentacle of Light are kept secret. All the vast majority of initiated members know is that the members of the Pentacle are appointed and that when appointed, they're part of the Pentacle for life.
I'm still processing it all as he replaces the box in the desk and offers me another cigarette.
I take it with thanks and a peaceful quiet settles over the room again for a while as we smoke.
"Shame about Professor Morengay", he says after a time.
"Yeah, it sucks. He was a great lecturer, not like most professors."
Jean chuckles and nods, exhaling a perfectly smoke ring, "I'm going to miss having him around."
"Huh?"
A mischievous gleam comes into Baron Suchet's eye as he leans forward, grinning in such a madcap way that he reminds me a lot of Drake.
"Who do you think was giving him all the information and research for his lectures? It was me! You see, after Melody told me about the class and how she really wanted France so he would do the de Semurs, I went to the good professor and told him if he would spend the course lecturing on the de Semurs, he could come out here on the weekends and hobnob with the local elite and research from primary and secondary texts in the library that he wouldn't be able to get anywhere else on short notice."
"That's... damn cool."
And it is. That the most fun class of my entire college experience is all thanks to the father of my quasi-girlfriend and nobody knew about it is just awesome in a weird way.
"That also explains why he was so happy in class on Mondays, then."
The baron nods and blows another series of smoke rings, the movements graceful as they are idle. I can definitely see how he was a good actor on the stage.
"Precisely. He's a bit of a wine and cheese nut, too, so I would bring him a new vintage or a new cheese to try out every weekend. He loved it, as you can imagine."
Looking thoughtful, Melody's father adds with a tilt of his eyes to the ceiling, which I'm just now seeing has an intricate scene with a bunch of guys in turbans on it, "Of course, I imagine he'll still come here, come to think of it. He said he plans on researching the de Semurs more fully for a book now that he can't teach anymore... but I'm babbling on and keeping you from the party. And besides, you have an important decision to make."
Huh?
"What decision?"
He stubs out his cigarette and folds his hands in his lap, leveling me with a solemn expression.
"About my daughter, of course. She loves you."
"But she's engaged to that Chet guy."
"Engagement isn't the same as marriage, Nick and even marriages are broken easily enough in this day and age."
I stand and make my way to the door. I don't want the night and the pleasant experience with Melody's father to be spoiled by this debate.
"With all respect, Mr. Suchet, I'm not sure I'd feel right about being the reason an engagement's broken."
He smiles faintly, nodding from the desk.
"I know. That's why no matter what you decide, whether it's this Becky girl I've heard about or whether it's my daughter, I want you to work for me after graduation. Consider it a networking opportunity through the fraternity. We won't talk about it now and you don't have to accept, obviously. We'll discuss it next weekend after graduation."
The job offer elates me and a flurry of images races through my mind, vague images without real substance or form. The job's market tough and I was having trouble finding employment for after graduation, so I'll probably take this.
But like Mr. Suchet says, there'll be time next weekend to discuss it.
For now, there's a choice waiting outside the house for me.
A life-defining choice.