No Relation (20 page)

“Excellent alliteration, John,” I replied. “I’m fine, thanks. I didn’t know you were much of a café-bakery type.”

“I’m not, really. I came for the scenery,” he said, snatching a glance at Marie while he straddled the line between smiling and leering.

She giggled. Yep, she giggled. Not good. I turned to her.

“I just wanted to thank you again for last night. That was really quite special.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw John flinch just a little.

“You dog, you!” John said. “I think I’ve misjudged you, Hem.”

“And Hat and James were also amazing. It was quite a session,” I added.

“I’ve definitely misjudged you!”

Marie rolled her eyes, slapped John on the shoulder, grabbed my arm, and led me to a quieter part of the room. We sat down at the same table Sarah and I had taken a few weeks before.

“I’m so glad you weren’t mad at us for barging in like that so late. We couldn’t stop ourselves,” she said. “You could probably tell we were a little excited about it all. So, um, what do you think now that you’ve had some time to mull it over?”

Marie leaned in with her elbows on the table. Her fresh scent reached me and almost threw me off.

“Well, I’ve decided that since you put so much thought into this, it would be downright insulting and ungrateful of me to pass up such a trip. So I’m going. I really am.”

Marie shrieked, grabbed both my hands, and squeezed until my fingernails turned pink.

Everyone else in the restaurant was looking our way, including John Dillinger.

“I actually think it’s an idea that might work,” I explained. “I wanted to tell you first and confirm your Paris dates. Then I’m
going home to start planning the trip and booking flights.”

“Woo-hooo! The Ernest Hemingway Exorcism World Tour is a
go
!” Marie released my hands and thrust both her arms above her head. I recognized the gesture. Apparently, I’d just scored a touchdown.

Ten minutes later, I rose to leave. Marie wrote down the Paris dates along with the details of where she was staying during her course and handed the slip of paper to me.

“So what’s with Johnny D over there? Does he come here often?”

“He was here last night with the rest of the group and seems to have taken a shine to our great food,” Marie said.

“It looks to me, and to everyone else in the room, that he’s taken a shine to more than the great food.”

“Underneath his act, he’s actually pretty nice. He made some good suggestions as we refined the exorcism tour idea. It’s just tough to get him to step off the stage for any length of time,” Marie observed.

“Do you want me to try to get him out the door for you?”

“No, he’s fine, but thanks. He’s taking me out later on anyway. Besides, he may actually order something soon and I don’t want to miss the sale.”

“Wow, he moves fast,” I said as I headed to the door. “Thanks again for bringing this crazy tour idea forward. I’m grateful. It actually means a lot to me that you and the others would go to that trouble.”

“Well, we NameFamers have to stick together,” she said before going back over to John Dillinger’s table.

Just before I opened the door, I looked over at him.

“Thanks for your help on the trip idea, John. Very kind of you.” I waved to him.

“No worries, bro. Happy to help. I hope it quiets the voices in your head. If not, well, I’ve got a special jacket you can wear when you get back. But you’ll need help putting it on.”

“Thanks anyway, but you keep it. You may need it again sometime. You never know,” I replied. “Oh, by the way, we could use whatever baseball skills you may have for our Thursday game this week. Are you in?”

“Well, it’s true, quite a bit of my youth was spent tearing up the diamond. So let me just check the old schedule to make sure I don’t have an audition that night. You know, I’m juggling quite a few of them right now.”

As he checked his BlackBerry, he sighed heavily, nearly overcome with the trauma of managing so many audition requests.

“Oh well, will you look at that, I’m clear that night, so I guess I can play.”

“Just our luck. I’ll bring your jersey to the game.”

By this time, Marie was standing next to him. I saw him put his hand on the small of her back as he spoke to her, presumably to place his long-awaited order. Then I was out the door.

When I revved up my laptop, there were separate emails waiting for me from Professor James Moriarty and Hat with more information about dates and flight times. They were very well organized and seemed quite committed to this journey. I’d already sent separate emails to James, Marie, and Hat offering to cover the costs of their respective portions of the tour. I thought that was only fair. Marie and James turned me down flat. Marie had already booked her Paris trip for the pastry course and would be staying with a friend who had an apartment in Saint-Germain. James said that he’d always wanted to visit Toronto anyway as they have an extensive collection of Sherlockiana and Arthur Conan Doyle artifacts at the main branch of the Toronto Public Library. Besides, he had plenty of frequent flyer miles he could cash in for his flight. Mahatma Gandhi, on the other hand, was not quite so quick to decline the offer though he was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of “freeloading,” as he put it in his return email. I hit Reply and told him that I appreciated his support, and just to leave it to me. I think he was relieved.

Two hours later, the entire trip, you know, the
EHEWT
, was planned and booked. It’s amazing what one can do on the Internet with a Visa card. Here was the basic itinerary:

Here endeth the Ernest Hemingway Exorcism World Tour.

It wasn’t exactly shaping up to be a leisurely vacation. Then again, it wasn’t intended to be relaxing. I considered it to be more akin to rehab without security and the shakes. I was trying to rid myself of a toxin that was preventing me from reaching a goal I’d set for myself a very long time ago. I was angry. I was motivated. I was ready. It’s quite possible, even likely, that I was deluded. But I was going to give it a shot.

I wasn’t certain about the idea of sharing this adventure with Marie, James, and Hat. But I never would have thought of this without them. This was their idea. I actually felt a little misty-eyed whenever I replayed their late-night visit to my apartment to “present” the solution they’d devised. It was thoughtful, generous, and kind. More accurately,
they
were thoughtful, generous, and kind. So there was no way I was going to question their notion that I be accompanied for as much of the journey as possible. That was part of the deal.

There was perfect attendance again for our NameFame meeting on Thursday. It all seemed to go very well. Jackie Kennedy told us more about her life and the challenges of carrying such a famous moniker. As I listened to her, I was reminded of how much easier it is to handle the baggage that comes with a famous name when you’re a confident and strong person to begin with. As well, unlike some of the other members, take me for instance, Jackie had lived until she was a young adult before her name was suddenly thrust into the national spotlight when
JFK
ran for president in 1960. I decided that if you can make it through childhood before someone else with your name becomes famous, it’s often easier to handle what follows.

We walked en masse to Central Park for our second ball game. We were facing the Spin Masters, a team composed of public relations professionals. They were all young and good-looking, even
in their uncomfortable, plastic mesh jerseys. Having John Dillinger and Julia Roberts join the team meant that Professor James Moriarty could join Jackie Kennedy in our cheering section, still leaving us with one player in reserve on the bench in case we ever wanted to put in a pinch hitter or runner with the game on the line. Yes, with our roster up to an even dozen, we could now add those kinds of sophisticated baseball stratagems to our arsenal. And considering our rather pathetic hitting, fielding, and baserunning, we needed all the sophisticated baseball stratagems we could get.

John Dillinger was actually not a bad player, but he “acted,” in the truest sense of the word, like a major league all-star, or major-league ass, depending on your perspective. He’d gone out and purchased brand-new genuine baseball pants, spikes, and batting gloves. He had a tough time breaking the little plastic tie that kept the two batting gloves together, but he got it eventually. Then he wore them as he sprinted up and down shallow left field, lifting his knees so high on each step he was in danger of knocking himself out. Then he lay on the ground and stretched as he’d probably seen Derek Jeter do it in the Yankees pre-game warm-up.

“I hope the new kid plays as well as he stretches,” Jackie said, shaking her head.

I handed in our roster to the announcer behind the screen. It was the same man with a megaphone who’d had such fun with our names in our first game. Great.

Yes, it’s true. I had reluctantly agreed to John Dillinger’s request and given him the jersey with number one on the back.