suspend disbelief - have an adventure

Sue and the Booh

The first sign that Sue got something was amiss, was the thin, somewhat mousy man, wildly waving his hands and shouting at her. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, as the sounds of heavy metal and thrash were coming out of the earphones around over her ears. He seemed really upset.

“Excuse me?” Sue asked as she took off the headset, and stopped her music.

“Get to the central hall,” the man shouted with a crisp British accent.

“Excuse me,” Sue said.

“Look around you,” the exasperated man waved his hands to encompass the entire kitchen. Sue was alone except for the man and an orange tabby cat sitting politely in the corner. “Everybody was ordered to the main hall. We’re all fucking waiting on you, you dumb bitch.”

“I don’t appreciate being talked to that way,” Sue said.

“And I don’t appreciate temp lackies having the fucking chief of security come find them because they’re too silly to pay attention. That means you,” he poked her in the shoulder and then pointed to the exit. “You need to get to the fucking central hall. Now!”

“I’m not taking this sort of behavior from you.”

“Excuse me,” the man feigned clam. “Would you please move your fucking fat ass to the central hall before I drag you there by your hair. There’s been an incident. I need everybody where I can brief them. After that, you can come back to this kitchen and jerk a chicken for all I care.”

“Booh,” Sue snapped her fingers as she turned on her heel and walked to the exit. The cat stretched, and then trotted beside her, easily keeping pace but otherwise staying out from underfoot.

“Why do you have a cat?” the man demanded.

“Booh is my emotional support companion,” Sue answered. “It’s been cleared by the ambassador. I would think the chief of security would have gotten a memo about it.”

“Don’t try my patience. This day just went sideways as horribly as possible. If you get in my way I’ll feed you to your cat, and then feed the cat to the guard dogs.”

“What’s going on?” Sue changed the topic as they approached the hall.

“I’m not wasting my breath on a single stupid cook. There’s things afoot that need to be dealt with. Just stand with everybody else and keep your opinions to yourself.”

The central hall was adjacent to the entrance to the British embassy, and the biggest room in the complex. There were about one hundred guests and seventy staff in the room which could easily accommodate three times that number. The guests, delegates, were mingling among each other over cocktails and appetizers. They were where they expected to be and doing what they expected to do while waiting for the ambassador to make an appearance.

The staff, except for the servers, where more confused. They had been called to the hall and told to stand around the periphery. They knew something was up, but not what. Considering it was a cocktail party, there was minimal staff and security. The ambassador hadn’t wanted to impose on anybody to spend their Saturday night taking care of a function which only needed minimal support. The ambassador was a kind woman. She had asked for volunteers to staff the function. It was her nature to guide with a gentle hand instead of dictate from privilege. The vulgar chief of security stepped up to a microphone on a platform at the head table.

“Listen up,” he said loudly into the microphone, causing feedback and ringing in everybody’s ears. “I’m the head of security, Mr. Charles Burnside. For the time being I need all guests and staff to remain in this hall. The hall is equipped for your sanitary needs, but I have security posted by the exits. I ask that you remain here for your own safety, and the safety of all our guests. There has been an incident, of which I will not be speaking until I complete my investigation. So, please, enjoy the evening until such time as we remove the lockdown.”

There was an uproar of complaints, and grumbling, but also a somewhat lively attitude as some of the guests moved to the open bar and the buffet. Other guests pressed against the head table demanding answers to questions.

“Please!” Mr. Burnside shouted into the microphone. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the situation until my investigation is complete. If everybody remains calm and enjoys the evening, it should only be a short delay. I ask however, is there a doctor in the house?”

Guests muttered some more, but started to move away from the head table. Things quieted quickly as Mr. Burnside scanned the attendees. “A doctor, please. Is anybody a doctor?” he asked again. With a great deal of hesitation, Sue raised her hand.