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Episode Two
Enter...The Jackalope
If an astral traveler sees a horse (Mars) or a jackal (Luna)
in the sphere of Netzach (Venus), one would know there is a confusion
of plane and the vision is not reliable.
Dion Fortune
Crossing cobblestones, soon within the walls of the
charming eatery known as the Three Fish, Miss Olivia and Ms. Madeline took a seat at a small, linen
draped table, lit by a votive and graced with a small vase of field flowers.
Maddie glanced about somewhat furtively, then said, "I'll be right back.
Stay out of trouble and don't insult anyone."
"Fine...we'll order when you return."
Madeline then made her way to the back of the room.
Olivia settled into the chair, fumbled in a breeches pocket and produced her
clove cigarettes, took one brown stick and bent over casually, drawing on
the weak candle flame.
Nearby, a flamboyantly dressed man sat in a
corner speaking bad French into a cellular phone. "Yes...I would like to go to
the hotel! Oui, THE spa! At Versailles, moron! Don't be such a fussy bitch,
Bruce."
Meanwhile, next to the Cybersybils' station a trio
of merry lasses gossiped in English, an oddity that immediately attracted
Miss Olivia's attention. Bored, and not interested in perusing the
menu, the inquisitive Peyton eavesdropped on their conversation...
"She looks familiar, doesn't she? Sort of like that
author...what's her name?"
"Which writer? All you ever read are romance
novels!"
"Be quiet. She's...I know...she's in
this magazine," and a frantic rustle was immediately produced.
"There," the third said with subdued
excitement. "Posh..."
"Peyton," Olivia finished, standing and approaching
the women. "Give me that. Small wonder they call this place the Three Fish."
"Who do you think..." the redhead began,
but stopped mid-sentence when she felt the stab of Olivia's determined,
stiletto gaze.
"Let's go, girls. Remember, the big Britainé concert is in Paris tonight. We need to get ready - and go see somebody really fab and famous," the brunette with the overbite taunted. "My Daddy didn't send me all the way to France from Merry-Meet-Land to hang out in this hick town, anyway. He's a lawyer, you know."
"That Paris Match cost ten francs," the
blonde stated, once the girls stood and were preparing to depart.
"Give it back, unless you want me to tell my friend's father on you - and her brother is a big detective back in America, so there."
"Ooh, I'm shaking in my Hérmès riding boots, and he's a G-O-D," Olivia shot
back at the ridiculous implied threat. She closed the magazine, glancing at a cover photo of a dark eyed man. "Who's this, trying to cover his face..."
"That's Juan Carlos the Jackal," the most officious of the bumpkins offered, "the
dreamiest man in all of Europe...probably the world! He's an assassin, that's why they call him the Jackal."
"Yeah, right!" the Peyton girl remarked. "More likely the jackass! Or Carlos lo Zoppo but I forgot...you barely speak English, nevermind the divine Dante's tongue...now....scram before I double-clown-punch you!" she mocked, striking a very cavalier pose. "Oh, and here's ten francs...go buy another tabloid,"
she offered as she tossed some money into the air while clutching the
magazine behind her back.
A ten franc note floated to the ground, where it was
eagerly retrieved by a flurry of glitter-painted fingernails.
"You SUCK big time!" came the retort before the door of
the Three Fish slammed shut and a waiter dared approach the scene. Olivia grinned at the compliment, then
took her seat and turned to the feature article, another smile of amusement appearing within
moments. As she read, the gentleman in the corner, whose hair and clothes were impeccable, put down his phone, and clapped
with gusto.
"And you go, girl! Woo-hoo!" the stranger cheered, causing the waiter to drop an empty wine bottle he was carrying away from the recently
occupied table.
Olivia looked up and noticed Ms. Madeline scurrying back from the restroom, a frown marring her visage.
  
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