Friday, November 13, 2026

Elinor - Chapter 5

 

Elinor

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 5

 

At least they were pants.  The only problem was that they were women’s pants, not to mention stretchy, skintight, and too short on me.  But the old Elinor had been smaller than I was.  Which also left me with no choice but to wear my old shoes again.  I preferred my old shoes.  I didn’t want to wear any of the women’s clothes.  Unfortunately, they weren’t giving me a choice in the matter.  I continued to stand in front of one of the three full-length mirrors in my new bedroom and look at my final image.  Stupid!  But what choice did I have?  None!

Since the last occupant of this suite had been a woman, the only toiletries I found in the bathroom had all been women’s things.  I had been forced to shave my face with a razor that I was sure the previous Elinor had used for her legs.  Then while in the shower, I remembered what Stan had said about the hair on my legs, so I shaved the bottom half of my legs from the knees down.  It had been a far more difficult operation than I expected, but my only goal was to do everything possible to stay alive, no matter what they might throw at me.

Getting dressed, I had chosen a stretchy and somewhat casual shirt to go with the black stretchy pants.  All the old Elinor’s non-stretch pants wouldn’t fit my waist at all.  Fortunately, like the stretchy shirt I was wearing, this pair was at least manageable.  I also wore the same bra I had worn to dinner last night, the same necklace, and the same bracelet.  On my feet though were my old male shoes, only because none of the old Elinor’s shoes would come close to fitting my larger feet.

Dressed that far, I forced myself to sit down at the vanity and do the best I could with a very tiny bit of eyeshadow, and the thing I despised the most, a bit of lipstick that wasn’t as bright as the lipstick I had worn to dinner last night, and that I was hoping wouldn’t be noticed at all.

I checked the clock.  It was time to leave.  I had already been through a quick breakfast downstairs with just Stan.  The only other people who had been there were a few of the servants who had served us.  For breakfast I had worn my old clothes that I had worn yesterday.  Stan had allowed it but told me to never wear them again.  After breakfast, Stan told me I was lucky that Germo or his bodyguard, Mateo, hadn’t shown up.

But now I was going to have to leave this place and travel back to Albuquerque, which is where I wanted to be, except I wanted to go back to my old life there.  I had no illusions though that I would ever be allowed to go anywhere near my old life.  Both Stan and Germo had told me that as far as my old life was concerned, I was dead.  I had to wonder exactly what that meant.  But the one thing that had been drilled into me a number of times already was that if I didn’t do what they wanted, then my body would be just as dead as they told me my old life now was.  Probably deader!

Going through the living room in my suite, I grabbed the date planner and cellphone and headed out the door.  Stan was across the hall in his room, his door already open.  Stan saw me and joined me in the hallway.  “You’re not carrying your purse?”

“My purse?”

“One of them at least.  You usually do.”

“I do?”

“Usually,” Stan confirmed.  “I put the one you had yesterday on the table in your living room.  That is, if you’re interested in taking that one.”

I turned around and went back into my suite.  I had seen the large colorful purse there.  I grabbed it and realized it was heavy.  I had no idea what was in it, but I also realized that it was plenty big enough to hold Germo’s date planner.  I shoved the planner and my cellphone inside, draped the long strap over my shoulder and went back out to the hallway, purposely leaving the door open like Nichole had requested so that she knew she could go in and clean.  Together, Stan and I made our way downstairs where we waited near the front door for Germo and Mateo to arrive.  Five minutes later, the two bodyguards were in the front seat of the car with Stan driving while Germo and I were in the back seat together.

As soon as the car was moving, I pulled out the date planner, but I didn’t bother opening it.  “We’ve got Thomas the accountant at ten thirty followed by your appointment with your tailor, Gerard.”

“Yes, I remember,” Germo replied.  “An easy day.  And my son John will be joining us later, followed by our little funeral for…the previous you.”

“Right,” I replied.  “Is there anything you need from me right now?”

“Just to be here with me,” he told me.  “Did you call Hector yet about riding lessons?”

“Right after breakfast.  He said to just stop by later today whenever I had time.”

“Good.  How about the fashion consultant?”

“I only found one listed in the Albuquerque area.  In fact, she was the only one in this part of New Mexico.  I haven’t called her yet.”

“Maybe you should do it now while you’ve got time.  Try to set up an appointment for me to meet with her as soon as possible.  You have my schedule.”

“You said yesterday that you wanted to speak with her first,” I asked more than stated.

“Yes.  Rosita suggested it, and I think it will be a good idea.”

“Okay,” I replied as I found my cellphone in the large purse and pulled it out.  Something told me that trying to work with a purse was going to be a major pain in the neck, and judging by the weight of the thing, literally.  I found the notes I had made for the name and number of the consultant and called her.  When she answered I said, “Hello?  Allison Simpson?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Elinor, and I work for…”

“Elinor!”

“Um…so it seems,” I replied.

“I’m sorry I don’t work with people like you!”

“Wait please!” I said quickly.  “My boss, Mr. Germo, asked me to set up an appointment for him to meet with you concerning some fashion advice.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  Yes, I do a lot of male fashion buying as well.  I’ll be happy to meet with him.  When did he want to come?”

I looked over at Germo.  “When did you want to meet?” I asked.

Germo grunted unhappily.  “Hand me the phone.”  He reached over and took the cellphone from me and put it on speaker.  Then he said, “Hello?  Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Allison Simpson.  You need a fashion consultant?”

“Yes.  Very much.  More than you can imagine.”

“No problem,” Allison replied.  “That’s what I do.”

“Good.  I have a meeting with my tailor later this morning just before lunch…”

“You’re seeing your tailor before consulting with me?”

“Yes!  I expect my meeting with him to take an hour or so.  Are you available right after lunch?”

“I’m available anytime today.  Let me give you my address.”

“Wait!” Germo told her.  “Let me pass the phone back to Elinor.  Tell her.  We’ll see you after lunch today.”  Germo punched the button to take it off speaker than said, “Here.  Get her address.  We’ll see her right after lunch.”

I took the phone and wrote down where we needed to go.  Now our schedule had gotten a bit longer.

The building in Albuquerque that Stan drove us to wasn’t anything big or fancy.  It looked rather plain but serviceable with a small parking lot in front.  We all got out of the car and went inside.  There were two desks there with women behind them.

“Mr. Germo.  Hello,” one of the women greeted us as she stood up.  “I’ll tell Tom that you’re here.”  Her eyes fell on me and seemed to stay there for a moment before she moved.  She quickly disappeared though a door, then popped right back out again, followed by an older but good-looking man.

“Mr. Germo,” Thomas said as he came out and shook Germo’s hand.  He greeted Mateo and Stan too, then his eyes fell on me.  “I was expecting to see Elinor with you.”

Germo shook his head.  “Let’s go to your office.  I’m afraid I have some rather bad news for you.”  He turned briefly to the rest of us.  “Wait here.”

I waited with Stan and Mateo.  The wait was long.  Very long.  Finally, the door opened and Germo came out alone.  He stopped at one of the desks and whispered to the woman, then pointed at me.  I heard the woman’s surprised gasp of, “Elinor?”  Then we all left.  Stan headed the car toward Germo’s meeting with his tailor.

“Good meeting?” I asked once we were in the car.

“Just pesky paperwork to sign.  Usually, he brings it to the house, but I needed to come here to meet with Gerard anyway.  Now it’s done.  Poor Thomas.  He was practically in tears when I told him about Elinor.  As I told you, he loved her.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

“Yes.  It’s a tragedy in more ways than you can yet imagine.”

Somehow, I could believe that.

“Stan,” Germo called from the backseat.  “While I’m meeting with Gerard, can you please take Elinor to a shoe store somewhere and make sure she gets a decent pair of shoes.  I don’t want to see the ones she’s currently wearing anymore at all.  Oh, and if they have riding boots, or at least any kind of boots that will work with a horse, then get a pair of them too.”

“Will do,” Stan replied.

Now I had to buy women’s shoes plus a pair of women’s boots.  But I had a feeling that the start of this humiliation was just beginning.  I wondered if Germo was getting a kick out of my discomfort.  He didn’t act like it, but I still wouldn’t be surprised.  A thought struck me.  “Does Stan usually pay for everything that…I…buy?”

“Why?” Germo replied.  “You’ve got your own credit card.  Check your wallet.”

I searched through the monstrous purse in my lap.  Yeah, a major pain.  I found a woman’s wallet there.  Inside was nearly a thousand dollars in cash and several credit cards.  Which brought another question to my mind.  “Do I get paid for working for you?” I asked Germo.

“You get a place to live.  You get all the food you can eat.  You get all your needs taken care of, and…”  He turned and faced me.  “You get to keep living.”

I figured that was all the answer I needed.  I also remembered the last time I had travelled on this road, it had been in the trunk of a car as I was on my way to be murdered.

 

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Shoes, shoes, shoes.  Colorful shoes.  Strange shoes.  And all of them looked rather uncomfortable.  But like it or not, I knew I would soon be walking out of the store wearing a pair.  “What the heck am I supposed to get?” I asked more to myself than anyone else.

“Shoes,” Stan replied.  “And riding boots.”

“The riding boots don’t sound nearly as bad as regular shoes,” I told him.  “I mean, look at them all.  How would anyone know what to wear?”

“Maybe take a cue from what you’ve got on,” Stan suggested.  “You’re wearing black pants.”

“Right!  Good one Stan.  Thanks,” I said as I turned my attention to the black shoes.  Five minutes later I found a pair of plain black pumps with almost no heel at all.  The only problem now was that I was going to have to try them on.  Try them on?  Heck, I was going to have to wear them out of the store.

“Um…” Stan said.  “Perhaps something with a bit of a heel might be more appropriate for your meetings with Mr. Germo.”

“A higher heel?” I replied.  “And be tripping and falling all over the place at the worst possible times?  That may not be the best idea.”

“I take your meaning and fully agree,” Stan told me.  “Sorry I mentioned it.”

“Don’t be!  Keep the suggestions coming.  I need all the help I can get.”

My eyes fell on another pair of shoes nearby.  I picked them up.  “Perhaps a compromise?” I said as I showed Stan the display shoe.  It was still a plain black pump, but it had a small chunky heel that hopefully I wouldn’t have too much trouble with.

“Compromises can be a good thing,” Stan agreed.  “But you’re the one who has to wear them.”

“Yeah.  Unfortunately.”

I found a box in hopefully my size and carried it over to a bench.  I was aware of a few of the store employees watching me carefully, but none of them approached or said anything.  I removed my old male shoes and tried on one of the new black pumps.  It was very tight.  Too small.  I put it back in the box and found a box in a larger size.  Once again I tried to put one on my foot.  The shoe at first seemed to be somewhat tight, but once it was fully on, I realized that it probably fit.  I just wasn’t used to the feel of women’s shoes.  I stuck the other shoe on my other foot and stood up.  I took a few steps then looked at Stan.  “Manageable,” I declared.

“Good,” Stan replied.  “Are you going to look for anymore?”

“You mean besides the boots?”

“Besides the boots,” Stan confirmed.

I considered it.  “Maybe not.  Not yet.  Not until I have a better handle on what I think I’m going to need.”

“Okay.  Whatever you decide.  Now we have to find you some riding boots.”  He turned and noticed two of the employees still watching us carefully.  “Do you have riding boots?” he asked loudly.

The two employees were surprised.  “Sure,” one of them replied.  “Right over here.”

“Show us,” Stan told them.

A few minutes later, I had to find the wallet in my large purse, find my credit card in the wallet, and pay for the shoes.  Before signing though, I had to look on the card to see the full name listed there, Elinor Martinez.  I was surprised to note there actually was a last name.  I signed the full name and the new shoes and boots were mine.  Stan grabbed the box with the boots but told them to get rid of my old shoes.

First I had lost my business along with the life I was trying to live in Albuquerque, then I had nearly lost my entire life a number of times to gunshots, now I had lost the last remaining link to my old life.  A link that was nothing more than a pair of shoes.

Still, as far as I could see, the name of the game hadn’t changed at all.  All that mattered was that I could keep breathing.  Keep living.  Somehow, stay alive!  As to getting out of this weird life, I still didn’t have a clue as to how.  I had to keep playing this weird game of life.

 

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After a leisurely lunch in one of Mr. Germo’s favorite restaurants, Stan drove us to the address for the fashion consultant.  I wasn’t sure if I should be surprised or not that she worked out of the apartment she lived in.  All four of us approached the door and Mateo knocked.  The door was soon opened by a middle-aged woman.  She seemed surprised to see so many people at her door.

“Mr. Germo?” she asked.

“Me,” Germo told her.

“Come in, please,” Allison Simpson told us as her eyes fell on me and seemed to stay there.

We all started to enter, but Germo suddenly stopped us.  “Perhaps it would be better if Miss Simpson and I met alone for a few minutes.”

“Boss?” Mateo asked.

Germo shook his head.  “It’s fine,” Germo told him.  A moment later, he was inside and alone with the fashion consultant while the rest of us waited outside.  It was obvious to me that Mateo wasn’t happy to be separated from him, but he had still done as the boss asked.

We waited a seemingly long time.  The door finally opened and Germo came out.  He immediately turned to me.  “Elinor, I’ve offered Miss Simpson an all expenses paid vacation at our hacienda where she can enjoy horseback riding and our swimming pool to her heart’s content, while she’s advising you on a new wardrobe.  She’ll be arriving tomorrow morning and staying with us until Sunday.  I suggest you call the staff and warn them that we’ll have a guest in the house.”

I turned and saw Allison still standing in the doorway watching us, and in particular, watching me.  I nodded to her.  “No problem,” I replied to Germo’s suggestion.

“Good!” Germo said as he began walking.  “Now let’s go home.  I’m looking forward to seeing my son, and then I have a rather sad funeral to attend.  And you Elinor, have riding lessons to begin and…”  He looked toward Stan.  “Does she know about payday yet?”

“I’m sure she doesn’t have a clue,” Stan replied.

“Better fill her in.  Someone has to handle it.  Why not her.”

I looked up at my tall bodyguard.  “Payday?”

“Every Thursday,” Stan replied.  “We’ll discuss it later in your office, or your room.  Whichever you prefer.”

Payday.  Everyone needed to get paid.  But evidently, my paycheck was in the form of permission to continue breathing.

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