[May 19th] [Perry Mason] To Be Taught How to Fly

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: To Be Taught How to Fly
Day/Theme: May 19th - Running away to a language no longer spoken
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Lieutenant Anderson, Perry Mason, Della Street, Vivalene (OC)
Rating: K/G

Part of the "Missing Scenes from The Broken Ties" series.

Takes place around the break between chapters 7 and 8. This has been one of my favorite pieces so far. And probably my favorite of the few pieces in which Hamilton doesn't appear.


By Lucky_Ladybug

Andy was worried.

Della was so thoroughly embracing the tales Hamilton Burger and Paul Drake had been spreading around the city. She was still faithfully teaching school, but in the evenings she was seeing Perry Mason. The attorney was more skeptical about the stories and yet, according to Della, he admitted that he felt something when he was around her, a sense that perhaps they could have known each other.

Paul Drake had certainly seemed sincere (and surely out of his mind) when he had told Andy and Della about this supposed “true life” while they had been at the mercy of kidnappers. But Andy was not convinced that it was not some kind of scam, some cruel plot against Della for some reason.

That, unfortunately, would not explain why Della had felt something when she had seen the newspaper with Perry Mason’s picture.

Andy, however, would feel better if he spoke with Perry Mason himself. And so he journeyed to the Brent building and up to the ninth floor.

Mason’s secretary Vivalene was typing at her computer when Andy stepped into the office. She looked up, giving him a coy and somehow chilling smile. “Why, hello,” she purred.

Andy was uncomfortable in spite of himself. Paul had said this woman had shot him. And now that he was seeing her, the old, unexplained scars in his flesh were hurting again.

He pushed aside such foolishness. “I’m here to see Mr. Mason,” he said, taking off his hat. “I don’t have an appointment, but it’s important.”

Vivalene shrugged. “Well, I’m sorry; I don’t think he can be bothered right now. If you want to leave a message . . .”

“No,” Andy interrupted. “Thank you. I’ll . . .”

“What’s going on here, Vivalene?”

Both of them looked up as the door to the inner office opened. Perry Mason himself stood in the doorway, frowning at the scene.

Vivalene got up, coming around her desk and slinking over to him. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Mason,” she purred. “This man came to see you, but I know how busy you are today. He doesn’t have an appointment, so . . .”

“Excuse me,” Perry said to her. He stepped forward, giving Andy a searching look. “Mr. Anderson?” They had briefly met on the evening Perry had also met Della.

“Yes,” Andy nodded. “I’m sorry to barge in on you, Mr. Mason. My business won’t take long.”

“Then seeing as how my next appointment isn’t for ten minutes or so, I believe I can squeeze you in.” Perry led him into the other office, pulling the door closed after them. “Won’t you sit down?”

“Thank you.” Andy took the chair in front of the desk, while Perry went around to his own chair.

The famed lawyer clasped his hands, giving Andy a searching look. “Now then, what can I do for you, Mr. Anderson?”

“It’s about Miss Street,” Andy said, “and how she’s been embracing these fables everyone is being told.”

“Fables, Mr. Anderson?”

Andy sighed in exasperation. “Well, surely we both know they can’t be true. But Mr. Mason, that isn’t the point.” He leaned forward. “The point is whether or not Miss Street has become the subject of an outrageous fraud, perpetrated by not only Mr. Drake but you.”

Perry frowned. “I can assure you that I am not responsible for any such fraud,” he said. “And I can vouch for Mr. Drake’s integrity. He honestly believes what he has been telling. Whether or not it could possibly be true is something I can’t say.”

Andy gaped at him. “But Mr. Mason . . . !”

“Perhaps what you should actually be asking is why Miss Street has been ‘embracing these fables’, as you call it,” Perry interrupted. “Perhaps she feels they fulfill a need or desire that her current life does not. Do you know if she’s been unhappy?”

“If she is, she’s never said so to me,” Andy said, shaking his head. “Of course, we aren’t more than casual friends, but . . .”

“I suggest you speak with Miss Street, not me.” Perry rose. “I enjoy her company, I won’t deny that. And I would not knowingly do anything to hurt her.”

Andy stood as well, getting the clear message that the conversation was ending. “Alright, Mr. Mason,” he said. “Thank you for your time.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful to you,” Perry said.

“I’m sorry too,” Andy had to admit.

Vivalene looked up again as Andy left the office. A vague smirk played on her painted lips. “Didn’t it go as well as you hoped, Mr. Anderson?”

Andy looked to her, again feeling the chill in his veins. “It could have been better,” he acknowledged. “Goodbye, Miss.”

“Goodbye.” She continued to stare after him as he entered the reception room.

And his scars continued to ache until the door was between him and her line of vision.

He drew a shaking breath. Whatever the explanation was for that, he did not want to see that woman again.

He did not like the idea of Della ever having to associate with her, either.
****
He didn’t have the chance to speak with Della until all classes were over for the day. Then he managed to get out of his office and wind his way down the halls congested with kids until he came to Della’s classroom. To his relief, none of her students were staying over to talk to her today. Sometimes one or two of them would stay and help her clean up. On the other hand, maybe they had and it had already happened.

At the moment Della was gathering her belongings and the day’s papers and preparing to leave. Andy slipped inside and quietly shut the door. “Miss Street?”

Della jumped a mile. “Mr. Anderson,” she said in surprise. She smiled. “What is it? Is there anything I can help you with?”

Andy advanced into the room, looking and feeling awkward. “Miss Street, are . . . are you happy, working here?” he suddenly blurted, not sure how to say it.

Della’s eyes widened in her surprise. “Of . . . of course I’m happy,” she said in amazement. “Mr. Anderson, have I been acting as though I’m not?”

“No,” Andy said, more awkward than ever. “I . . .” He searched for the right words. “I just wondered if that could be why you believe what’s being said by Mr. Drake and Mr. Burger.”

Della stared. “No, Mr. Anderson,” she exclaimed. “That isn’t it at all.”

Andy came to stand in front of her. “Then Miss Street, would you mind telling me what the reason is?” he cried, his desperation slipping into his eyes and his voice. “I don’t understand. You have a good life. Why would you go chasing after a mirage?”

Della paused, gazing into the distance. “I don’t know, Mr. Anderson,” she said. Her voice was far away, filled with the reflections she had made on her life over the past days. “It feels right.” She looked to him. “Can you honestly stand here and tell me you don’t believe any of it?”

“I admit something strange is going on,” Andy said. “Especially since you had those feelings about working for Mr. Mason before Mr. Drake even spoke to you. But that isn’t proof that what you’ve been told is real.”

“It’s not proof it’s false, either,” Della smiled.

“Now you sound like Mr. Mason,” Andy groaned.

“Well, I suppose that comes from being around him the last few days,” Della said. “He’s really a wonderful man, Mr. Anderson. I think the two of you could be good friends.”

“Maybe so,” Andy acknowledged. “But I still don’t like what’s going on here. Miss Street, it doesn’t even make sense that only Mr. Drake and Mr. Burger know this supposed ‘truth’. Why doesn’t anyone else remember it?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Anderson.” Della sounded sad now. “Maybe the rest of what they’ve been saying is true as well.”

“Black magic and a Pandora’s Box?” Andy shook his head. “No. It can’t be.”

“I know it sounds like something out of the fairytale book down the hall,” Della said. “But instead of insisting it can’t be, I’ve been asking myself why couldn’t it be.” Her voice lowered. “Especially when it all seems to fit.

“Yes, Mr. Anderson, I love being here and teaching the children. It’s been a dream of mine to work with them. But I can’t deny that sometimes I’ve felt as though this isn’t where I’m supposed to be. It was only after I saw the article about Perry Mason that I had any idea where I am supposed to be.” She looked into his stunned blue eyes. “Do you believe you’re where you should be?”

Andy had to avert his gaze. “I always thought I was,” he said. “I accepted it without question.”

“But?” Della prompted.

“But now I’m not sure,” Andy admitted in exasperation. “It’s just that . . .” He passed a hand over his face. “Being a police officer, something so dangerous. . . . I worried about my cousin Jimmy when he decided to go in for it. It’s hard for me to believe that in this other world I was into it first.”

“And Jimmy wanted to follow in your footsteps,” Della added quietly. “Mr. Anderson . . .” She lifted the stack of papers into her arms and reached for her purse. “Are you sure the problem is just that you find all of this hard to believe? Maybe you’re just afraid to believe.”

“That’s part of it, yes,” Andy said. “I don’t want to take that step into the unknown. I don’t want to risk the fall into darkness.”

Della nodded. “I understand,” she said. She hesitated. “There’s a quote I ran across the other day. It’s very profound. Let me see if I can remember how it goes.” Again she paused. Then, slowly, she said, “‘When you reach the edge of all the light you have and must step into the darkness, you must believe one of two things. Either you will find something firm to stand on or you will be taught how to fly.’”

Andy nodded as well. “I know that quote. It’s very dear to my family. And you’re right, Miss Street. Accepting this situation does require a lot on faith. I just don’t know that I have that much.”

Della gave him a kind smile. “Maybe it will just take more time. Mr. Anderson, supposing that it is true. Wouldn’t you want to be able to believe it?”

“Yes,” Andy said. “Supposing it’s true.”

Della started to walk to the door, satisfied. “Then I don’t have any more I can say. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Anderson.”

“Alright,” Andy said, occupied with his thoughts. But suddenly he snapped to. “Oh, Miss Street!” He hastened to catch up with her. “I’d be happy to help you get your load out to your car.”

Della smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Anderson. You’re a good friend.” There was one other thing she wanted to say. As they walked, she remarked, “I’m glad to know that we’re friends in this other world, too.”

Andy nodded. “That’s one thing I can accept without question,” he said.

“Then,” Della said, her eyes twinkling, “that’s a start.”