After a nap, another hour on the couch with “Our Mutual Friend” and a cup of Chai tea, Myra was bored. She told herself one of the benefits of great literature was it was written during a time when reading was a major source of entertainment. Authors took pains to take two or three thousand words to say what could have been said in one making it the perfect thing to read during a pandemic. What could be better than taking time in one’s life to appreciate great literature?
“I’m more than happy to appreciate something as long as it isn’t boring me to death.” She muttered, turning off the movie. Picking up a different remote, Myra found one of her mother’s favorite albums and turned up the music. She was taken back to the early days of her childhood. A time when her mother always seemed to be wearing a smile and her father would come home from work ready to listen to anything and everything she wanted to tell him. He always had plenty of energy for a game of chase and was readily available with new bedtime stories.
Myra found herself slowly walking around the living room looked at framed photos wondering where that world had gone.
No moping. - W.
I wasn’t moping. I was remembering my father and his stories. - M.
Riddle me this, Robin—what has four feet, thirteen eyes and six ears?
A monster? - M.
No. - W.
A small pod of dolphins and their trainers? - She tried, knowing that answer hadn’t even made sense.
Sweetie, that answer didn’t even make sense. - He texted back. – The solution will lead you to what you asked me for. It is five pm. You have three hours to solve the riddle. GO.
Myra smiled at the text on the screen. Wyatt noticed she was bored and gave her something to do. She sat down on the couch with pen and notepad.
What has four feet?
She scribbled down the words : tables, chairs, couches, two people, ducks. Thirteen eyes. Potatoes? Six ears. Six ears of corn? “Is he telling me what’s for dinner? Knowing the dinner menu is nice but it does not wave at the information I seek.”
I asked for disclosure. Full disclosure.
With that realization, Myra’s phone became her most treasured possession. “It’s not a riddle it’s a clue.” She whispered. “What was I doing when Wyatt texted me?” She looked around the room. “I was standing, there.” She looked at the built-in bookshelves on either side of the entertainment system in front of her. She rose from her seat and walked over to the awards, photos, and random bric-a-brac on the shelves.
Myra and Wyatt had chosen these pieces together. They had done it while all the remaining space in the house had been taken over by the contractors, decorators, and media specialists called in by the studio to prepare Myra’s house for remote production during lockdown. They put out cherished memories of happier days as recommended by the mental health consulting firm the studio had hired to keep her and Wyatt in good spirits as the two of them helped the rest of the world remain in good spirits during the difficult days to come.
She looked at each piece closely, paying special attention to items added by Wyatt. A picture taken of only their feet as they stood on a warm white sandy beach in Bora Bora between takes of a film she had a supporting role in.
“Four feet.”
She heard a voice from many years ago, it was dialogue from a political thriller she had starred in, “Three professionals equals six ears. Six ears and forty-eight hours should tell us everything we need to know.”
“Six.” Myra whispered. “That’s where the six ears come from. Thirteen eyes where are you?” She took a step back from the bookshelf, perusing the contents slowly and more closely. She knew what she was looking for, Myra just needed to spot it. Her eyes stopped at a small plastic toy near the front of the lowest shelf.
“Wyatt, you shit.” Myra picked up a bobble head, one with her likeness, in a russet brown body suit, short heeled knee boots, with the tangerine colored hair the movie was famous for. An independent film by an aspiring director she starred in just for fun after she had finished her first motion picture with a major worldwide studio. It was a super hero film made years before Marvel jumped into the movie business, changing the way the world looked at super heroes forever. Myra had played Lisa, the shy daughter of a potato farmer during The Great Depression who was kidnapped by space aliens and bestowed with super powers. “All Eyes On You,” was strong, fast, quick-witted and could see in all directions, hence the brown body suit covered in eyeballs. Myra shook her head at the memory. The film was an utter flop in most circles but became a cult classic. One that had ironically led her to the break out role which launched her career and into stardom.
She was not fond of that particular listing on her CV, Wyatt always said if she had not been Miss Super Potato Head they never would have met. As far as he was concerned it made the brown eyeball bodysuit worth it. Myra reached out, gently stroking the outside of the toy’s bobbing head.
“It was worth it. Completely worth it.” Myra picked up the figurine counting the eyeballs. “Thirteen eyes.” Running her fingertip along the outside she noticed a protrusion. She pushed on it. Something small and heavy fell into the palm of her hand. It was all Myra could do not to say a word. She closed her hand as she placed the bobble head back on the shelf.
Say nothing. No exclamations, no squeals of joy. Not a sound. Look at the floor---hold. Myra thought giving herself stage direction. This was the most important role of her life. Right now. In this moment. One slip up...she didn’t want to think about what might happen if she made a mistake. That’s good. When you look up let out a sigh and sit down on the couch. Pick up the remote. Flip through channels for ten minutes. Good. Quietly turn off the television. Leave the room.
Myra used the restroom to string things out a bit longer. She had a passcode and a key. What was she to do about the camera?
They have to believe I’m Wyatt. I wonder if any of his sweats are still in the exercise room.
Finding a pair of Wyatt’s sweats and an old hoodie she snuck them into another bathroom and put them on over her clothes. She pulled the hood over her head as Wyatt had been doing in recent weeks and returned to the media room door. Myra put the key into the lock and turned it. The screen prompted her to enter a passcode. She typed 04-13-06 and pressed Enter. The display turned green and the word WELCOME appeared. Myra quickly turned the knob and walked through the door.
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