"We expected 'The Adventure of a Lifetime', but had no idea how many lives would never be the same."
Call me Elsie. Everyone else does. Actually, it used to be L.C. And that was only because I never let anyone call me by my proper name.... never let anyone even know it if I could help it. What kind of parent names their kid Lorenzo Carlton? I used to half joke that I should be able to bring them up on charges, for naming your child something guaranteed to get them picked on at school surely counts as child cruelty.
My mum used to try to console me. She kept telling me that I was named after great men from my father's side of the family, and that I should be honoured to be named after such great, great men. Although I'm not so sure she didn't think it was all vainglorious bollocks as I did.
My father for his part just told me to shut my piehole and not be such a pussy about it. He said if anyone gave me guff, I should just stand the christ up and wail them into last Saturday. Great advice from the man who used to call me 'big bird' because I was really tall, but really skinny. He used to joke that someday he was going to grab me by my spindly legs and make a wish for a real son.
He had one thing right. I could fly! I learned at an early age that if I couldn't actually beat my tormentors, I certainly could outrun them. That earned me the nickname 'rabbit', because someone once saw a greyhound race where all the dogs chased a mechanical rabbit they could never catch but would still always chase... because that's what dogs do. And bullies. Of course, where I come from, calling someone 'rabbit' is a bit like calling someone 'cockroach' or maybe 'locust'. Not exactly a term of endearment. No matter. I'd been called worse. Especially 'Lorenzo Carlton'.
Well, the fact that I was lean and tall ….and fast, was noticed by more than the school bullies. Pretty soon, I was approached by coaches and found myself running for the school instead of just from the school. I did quite well, and became the star of.... well, nowhere really. My coaches liked me because I had 'good attitude and great aptitude' my team mates were a bit miffed that I made them look slow, and the rest of the school.... well, they considered running and jumping like track and field, or swimming or cycling just things you did on summer break and holiday. They didn't consider them real sports. Same as my dad.
“Look at all the pretty little ribbons. They'll make a lovely sash when they crown you queen of your grade.” he'd coo as he sashayed around my room when I'd come home with another win. “Why don't you just grow a pair and go out for a real sport.... like rugby?”
I scowled at him, and my mum grabbed him by the arm and tried to lead him out of my room.
“Clive! Leave the boy alone. He won his meet. ….we're proud of you son.” she smiled warmly.
My father broke free of her tug and spun in my direction with a leer. “When I said 'grow a pair' I meant down there not up here” and he twisted my nipple so hard I let out a yelp and folded down to a crouch, putting him in reach of the top of my head which he soundly slapped like one of the three stooges. “Fucking poof” he muttered as he stormed out of the room shaking his head. I just stared at my mum, who stood there. She looked like she wanted to come and comfort me, but seemed unsure if it was the right thing to do. I looked at her with anguish and embarrassment and she ran to me, then quickly changed her embrace to an arm patting my back while her other arm braced my elbow to help me stand. She just looked at me with such affection and sorrow...and she seemed at a loss for words. But she didn't need any. I just smiled, kissed the top of her head, and gently broke away to go put my ribbons in my drawer.
“I'm going to Dave's to watch the match.” my father bellowed from the front door. “Hold supper for me.” and he slammed the door as punctuation.
So, it's probably no surprise that when I got a chance to travel to the States, that I leaped at the opportunity to be 18 timezones from home.
My cousin Mikey won a national contest to go see a Hollywood premiere of some lavish musical adaptation of 'The Thornbirds'. Since a number of the producers and cast were local heroes, it was quite a big deal. Honestly it sounded to me like another over-the-top, over budget Hollywood atrocity. But I was more than happy to be his 'plus one' as well as his unofficial chaperone.
I suspect Mikey had little say in the matter. His folks, my mum's little brother and his wife, couldn't go. Uncle Sean had work and couldn't take 10 days off to gallivant to the states, and aunt Patty had Mikey's brothers and sister to look after. Mikey was a good kid, and we always got along. He never teased me, and I never treated him like a little kid. Even though he was only a year and a half younger than me, it can be a big deal at that age. I think he would have preferred one of his mates from school, but he took the appointment of me as his traveling companion with good cheer.
I did apologize for wedging in on his prize holiday, but he seemed genuinely fine with it.
“No, really, it's great. I can't think of anyone I'd rather go with..... that they'd let me go with” he grinned.
“Ahh.” I smiled. “Someone ….special.... back at school or somewhere?”
He blushed his answer. “Well, no one serious.... and hey, there's a whole hemisphere of new people to meet. ….for both of us!”
Now it was my turn to blush. I had not considered this trip as an opportunity to improve my love life. Which I had to concede, wasn't exactly brilliant.
“It'll be a great adventure L.C.! Imagine it.... Hollywood... red carpets... stars ….and starlets.... the glamour.” He grinned at me and wiggled his eyebrows. “Hollywood babe!” he said in a Billy Crystal as Sammy Davis Junior voice. I couldn't help but laugh.
“California, here we come!” I shouted.
“Brace yourself!” Mikey howled.
That was one LONG flight. I thought only bus journeys were that long nowadays. It was probably good that it was so long, because with all the time to sleep and doze, it couldn't but help with the serious jet lag. It would take some getting used to, but I was confident that we'd be all adjusted ...at least by the time we had to return.
They put us up in a very lavish hotel. This was a big contest sponsored by one of the national TV networks and the multinational conglomerate that owned the film company releasing the movie, so Mikey got fitted out with all sorts of 'gifts' – which also just happened to be products made by the film company's corporate parent, or by other companies that appeared in the film. The marketing and promotion people swarmed on him like ants and carried him off to be dressed and outfitted then photo-op'ed as the lucky contest winner.
I was left on my own to explore our quite posh hotel room, and check out the town. They say it never rains in southern California. Well, that's a lie. My walk around Beverly Hills got cut quite short when the skies opened. I had my hoodie with me, but it was no help. By the time I scurried back to our hotel, I looked like a drowned rat. My cargo pants were sticking to my skinny legs like dangling skin, and my hoodie had become a giant sponge dribbling water down my face so I could barely see. My trainers made a squishy “splurch splurch” sound as I padded through the posh lobby trying not to draw attention to myself. I almost made it to the elevator when someone grabbed me by the elbow and spun me around.
I expected to be accosted by hotel security demanding to know where I thought I was going, since I looked like a very soggy homeless person. But it was a very fit middle aged guy in a T shirt and blazer, he just glared at me as I squinted through the water still dripping into my eyes trying to make out his face.
“What the fuck???” he whispered angrily. “What are you doing here and where the fuck do you think you're going?”
He had the confidence of someone in charge, but I seriously doubted that he was hotel security. Maybe a manager of some kind?
“I'm going to my room!” I whispered back in what I hoped sounded like righteous indignation that I had every right to be here. Still, I fished in my pocket for my room key and brandished the card in his face. “I'm staying in this hotel!” I wasn't sure why I was still whispering, but he started it, so I just kept doing it. “I'm going to the premiere tomorrow night and right now I'm going to my room to towel off!”
He just looked at me wide eyed. “Now?” he still whispered ...but rather loudly and with what sounded like annoyed disbelief. “NOW you nail the bloody accent? What the fuck???” Suddenly the elevator door opened and he dragged me in as a crowd of people stared at us with a variety of odd expressions as they filed out. I don't know what they were thinking, but I didn't really know what to think of this myself. The door closed and suddenly we were alone in the lift. My 'abductor' let go of my elbow and stood back to look at me.
“Jesus CHRIST Katherine” he said in a normal – if pissed off tone of voice. “What the fuck did you do? Bribe someone to let you out or did you go over the fence?”
“Excuse me?” I said, pulling off the sopping hood and drying my face rather ineffectively with my wet sleeve. Finally the water was out of my eyes and I could get a good look at him. “Who's Katherine?”
Apparently he finally got a good look at me too, because his face went pale.
“Oh, Christ. Oh Jesus. I'm SORRY1 I thought you.... you know.... has anyone ever told you that you bear an uncanny.... of course they have.... you said you were here for the premiere.... you're working....”
“Actually, it was a contest... the grand prize was....” I stammered.
“Oh! Great! …brilliant actually.... I can certainly see why you won.....”
“No. It was my.....” it hit me I was divulging an awful lot of personal information to a total stranger. “excuse me... who are you?”
Suddenly his confidence evaporated and he deflated to a middle aged guy in an elevator chatting up a total stranger.
“Oh. I'm.....” and like I did with my keycard, he fished into his breast pocket and produced a business card. Desmond Lehmann.
I instantly recognized his name, but would have never known his face.
“Sorry. I don't really read those kinds of magazines. I'm sort of the go TO the movies sort. So since you're always on the other side of the camera, and like I said, I don't follow the interviews or fan stuff... I'd never recognize your face. Sorry.”
“Perfectly alright. Refreshing really. And your accent? You're from.....”
“Brisbane. Well, just outside. Newstead really.”
“Been there.” He smiled. “Nice place.”
I laughed. “If you ever decide to get out of films, I think you could have a future in politics.”
He returned the laugh. “Oh, trust me.... it's all politics.....” he sought my gaze. I realized he was looking for a way to address me since I had never given him my name.
“L.C.” I smiled and put out my hand. “L.C. MacGuinness”
“A delight to meet you Elsie MacGuinness. A surprise.... and a delight.” he took my hand rather gently, by the fingers and gave them a slight shake. Not the way we shake back home, but who was I to judge? This was Hollywood.
“You said you're here at the hotel as a contest winner?” I nodded. “I'm in the penthouse suite through the day after the premiere, may I invite you and.... I presume you have a traveling companion?” I nodded. “May I invite the two of you to join me for dinner? I have a ….proposition....”
I think he saw my slight scowl because he quickly changed the invitation to join him in the public restaurant in the hotel. It still seemed quite odd to me and he must have sensed that.
“Oh.... I assure you.... it's all on the up and up. Nothing ...sordid...or sketchy.... at least for this town.” He smiled, but I sensed a bit of a leer in there too. I gave it a moment's thought and realized Mikey would be over the moon to meet the director of the world premier we'd traveled halfway around the world to see, so I put my reluctance aside and smiled. “Thank you for the invitation.... that would be …..nice.”
His mouth puckered into a slight grin at my lukewarm response.
“Well..... nice.... what is your room number? I'll have someone call with the details.”
I was just getting out of the shower when Mikey returned laden with 'schwag' as he called it. As I padded around our room in my robe trying to dry my hair vigorously with a towel, he told me in excruciating detail about his day. He was deliriously happy and caught up in all the glamour and excitement. The corporate sponsors could not have wished for a more enthusiastic contest winner. Suddenly he stopped babbling. I think it occurred to him that it might seem a bit rude to go on and on about his day without even asking about mine. So, I explained that I went out for a walk to explore, got caught in the rain and came back to the hotel. This seemed a satisfactory answer, so he nodded
and resumed telling me about his day.
I did interrupt him long enough to ask if he had any dinner plans. He shrugged and said he hadn't really thought about it. He said he thought the contest people might whisk him off to some glamorous hotspot for more photos or something, but instead they just told him what time they would pick him up tomorrow. He seemed a bit disappointed. Then his eyes lit up and he suggested we should go to the posh restaurants ourselves.
I smiled and told him I doubted two financially strapped teenaged tourists would be able to get a table at anyplace he would remotely be interested in going and suggested a ….nice.... dinner in the hotel restaurant. He seemed a bit gloomy at the prospect. His brow furrowed, and then I could see a new exciting scheme forming in his thoughts. I cut it off quickly by smiling and telling him that we already had reservations.
I did not tell him who made the reservations, and I doubted I would need to tell him once he saw our host in the restaurant. Mikey would not need to be handed a business card.
Sure enough, we got to the restaurant and I gave my name to the maitre d', and we were escorted to our table. Halfway across the restaurant, when our host saw us coming and stood, smiling in our direction, Mikey did a little double take. I saw his eyes go wide with recognition. He instantly began looking around to see who our famous host was smiling at, and seeing no one else around, stared at me, perplexed. I just smiled down at him and quietly said “….surprise....” at which he immediately …...squeed.... and ran over to the table lunging at the director and squeezing him in a bearhug like a child finding a long lost stuffed toy.
I shot the director a look of discomfort and apology at my cousin's outburst. He quickly regained his composure and patted Mikey on the shoulder.
“Ah... you must be Elsie's.....boyfriend?”
“Cousin. We're cousins.... ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod..... I am such a big fan! Ohmygod, I thought maybe I might get to see you at the premiere and maybe maybe maybe actually get your autograph.... but to actually meet you and talk to you and have dinner? ….with you.... ohmygod ohmygod.... ohmy-”
“God... yes I think I get it. Please, sit down before you hyperventilate. Would you like some water?” he held a glass out to Mikey who gulped it down. I really think the water was just our hosts way to stop Mikey from babbling long enough to address me.
“I'm so delighted you and your …cousin.... could join me.”
I smiled graciously as he walked over and pulled my seat out for me. That seemed a bit ….unctuous.... but, as with the dainty handshake in the lift, I reminded myself that I really didn't know the Hollywood customs. “Thank you for the gracious invitation. I wanted to surprise Mikey.... my cousin.... so I neglected to tell him who we were dining with. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Mission accomplished” our host replied with a smirk.
“He's a really big fan.” I smiled.
“So I gathered.” our host chuckled.
“Oh my god. I am your biggest fan. I own every film released on video and saw your student films at a festival in Melbourne. Ohmygod. I can't believe I'm sitting here. This is such an honour!”
“Well, the pleasure is mine. It's always a treat to get to meet folks from back home. I met your cousin in the lift this afternoon.”
“I was a bit of the drowned rat this afternoon” I laughed.
“Yes, but still quite lovely.”
Wait. ...what?
He turned to Mikey. “I asked your cousin here...and you... because I have a ….proposition.....”
“Yes. Yes... Whatever it is, yes!”
“Wait wait wait.” I said to Mikey. I was quickly getting a really strange feeling about this and I figured in his enthusiasm at meeting his hero, Mikey was oblivious to it all and far, far too eager.
“I have no idea what we're talking about, but I don't think we want anything to do with it.”
“Speak for yourself LC!” Mikey snapped back. That startled both our host and me.
“I think we've gotten a bit off the rails here.” our host calmly replied. “If you're thinking this is what I think you're thinking, you're completely off the mark.”
“What do you think we're thinking?” Mikey asked ….hopefully?
“I think that's obvious” I replied.
“At this point I don't think anything is obvious.” our gracious host replied. “Except that obviously our quiet little dinner got off to a dreadfully bad start.”
He looked at us and we nodded our agreement.
“I have a business proposition. Simply business. No mischief. Nothing you won't be able to write home or tell your friends about..... well, actually that's not ...quite... true. This business arrangement will involve signing a nondisclosure agreement, so you won't be able to talk about it. And even if you did, no one would likely believe you.” he smiled slyly.
Just then the room stirred and there was a small commotion as one of the most famous leading men in Hollywood entered the restaurant with a dazzling supermodel on his arm, and was seated at the other end of the room. All eyes turned to him as he nodded discreetly in our general direction and out of the corner of my eye I noticed our host nod back with a slight smile.
“Ah. Right on cue. While the room is distracted, may I suggest that we discreetly depart to continue our meal and our discussion in my suite?” He stood up and came around to pull out my seat. “I've taken the liberty of having our meals sent up. They're waiting for us...” then sensing my discomfort he added “....along with a number of my staff and a lawyer or two.”
OK. It no longer sounded sexual. However, with lawyers involved I still wasn't sure it wasn't something sordid.
On the lift to the penthouse our host confirmed my suspicion. “You noticed that didn't you?” I nodded. “He's wanted to work with me for a few years now. After becoming the worlds leading action star, he wants to ...expand.... his repertoire. I heard rumours of his grand plans for an operatic action film.... no, I mean actual opera... only with dance numbers.... I think the phrase I heard was West Side Story meets Wagner's Ring cycle – in space” he shuddered slightly. “He's been trying to take a meeting with me for months, but I had always managed to avoid it.” He shrugged. “We needed a distraction so the paparazzi would not notice us dining together, so I called in a favor.” He cringed almost unnoticeably and met my eyes. “That is how much I want our meeting.”
Mikey remained dazzled as he gazed around the penthouse suite. “This is exactly how I imagined it.” he muttered to himself.
The director introduced us to his staff and again we all exchanged those weird finger-squeeze handshakes, while I sensed them sizing me up. His staff then went into an adjoining conference room with stacks of paperwork while we retired to the dining area for a 'working dinner'.
We made some small talk. Talked about home. Talked a bit about ourselves. Though Mikey did most of the talking, to our host's apparent dismay. Mikey was such a big fan and he was bursting with enthusiasm, so I didn't want to cut in on his moment. Our host kept trying to turn it back to the two of us, although Mikey already told him everything, so I guess at this point, 'us' really just meant 'me'.
He asked how long we were here for, and if we'd be willing to extend our stay if he could get the visas worked out and arrange for us to work for the studio. I explained that I really needed to get home and start finding a job now that I was out of school. He asked how I would feel about an overseas job.... working for his production company, and he slipped me a folded piece of paper with what I took to be his phone number. I shot him a perplexed look.
“Is that agreeable?”
“Whatever you have to say, you can say right here in front of my cousin. I don't need to call you.”
Now it was his turn to look perplexed. In a moment it was replaced by a burst of laughter.
“Oh, God! That's not my phone number!” he struggled to catch his breath he was laughing so hard. “I think you'll find it's a few digits short for most developed nations..... Oh my goodness.... it's a fee proposal.”
“What is this? Italian Lira? Japanese Yen?”
He smiled and shook his head.
“No. Dollars.”
“Australian or US?”
“US. Or, possibly Euros.”
“A year?”
“Oh, goodness no. That would be just for the job.... I imagine we'd be collaborating for 2, maybe three months. With a guaranteed extension, should we decide to do other markets.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” As I was saying this, Mikey grabbed the piece of paper from me and gasped.
“Who CARES L.C.? Ohmygod!”
“He says that a lot.” our host chuckled.
“I think it's his new catchphrase” I sighed. “Alright. Forgive me. But treat me like I'm utterly stupid. ….what the hell are you talking about.”
“OK. Cards on the table time. But before we continue.... cards on the table time.... forgive the ...directness... of this question, but we'll spend all evening beating around the bush and still never satisfactorily get to the issue... not that it matters either way......” He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable.
“Just ASK it!” I smiled, but he could hear the frustration in my voice.
He fidgeted and drew a deep breath.
“Are you ...gay?”
There it was. Finally the elephant in the room was being acknowledged. I was not surprised by the question. In fact I had suspected it was the issue roiling beneath the surface since we met in the lift.
“Actually..... no.” I sighed.
“You aren't?” he asked incredulously.
“You aren't?” Mikey asked incredulously.
“No!” I replied. A bit incredulous myself at their response. “People always seem to assume that. What made you think I was gay?”
“Well.... your hair.....” the director replied. Mikey nodded.
“OK. I'm just a poor student. It's not like I can afford brilliant salons. There's a beauty school nearby and it seemed a win win. The students get practice, and I got.... well, I thought it was a decent cut.”
That seemed to satisfy them, as they both nodded.
“And your ….dress...” he looked me up and down.
“Well... kind of the same reason.... it's not like I'm made of money, going out to shop designer fashion. ….and I have.... kind of a weird body.... everything hangs off it funny... even the good stuff the times I tried it at the pricey shops. So I figured 'if you can't look stylish anyway, at least be comfortable'. I didn't think it made me look.... gay.... it's a jacket and a tee like you had and some khakis and Clarks”
“....It's.... borderline....” he wavered his hand. “A bit Annie Hall.... but you make it work.”
“....AND your ears....” Mikey added.
“OK. That I kind of get. Especially having the holes with no earrings. When I was younger I thought I'd be a rocker, a real heavy metal monster... so I bought the outfits, spiked up the hair.... bought the skull earrings”
“I remember.” Mikey beamed. “That's when I started thinking 'at least I have one cool cousin'”
I smiled back. “Yeah... I looked pretty badass.... Too bad I couldn't play worth shit. ...or sing.” The only fond memory I have about that phase is how much it pissed off my father. So after I gave it up and he began to gloat about something else I sucked at, I kept wearing the skull earrings now and then just to chafe him.... so I still have the holes.”
“OK. Not gay. Got it. But no reservations about letting our stylists at you to transform you to something clearly not gay? Completely unambiguous?”
“Stylists? What exactly do you have in mind?”
“Why to be a ringer of course.”
“A ringer?”
“of course”
“Like a stand in?”
“More like a double.”
“A doppelganger” Mikey chimed in.
“For WHO?” I asked naively.
“Seriously?” the director asked.
“You really don't know? How can you not know?” Mikey asked.
“How can she not know?” the director asked.
“Wait. What?” Mikey and I both replied.
It was about another half hour of 'Who's on First?' before we finally were all on the same page. And we were all astounded. For entirely different reasons.
The director was staggered to learn that I was L.C. ….a lad.... not Elsie. He thought the lack of makeup and short-ish somewhat butch haircut and loose, gender neutral clothing for complete androgynous appearance was because I was a lesbian.
Mikey, who had known me all his life. Thought my pierced ears, long-ish somewhat 'femmy' hairstyle and baggy, gender neutral clothing for androgynous appearance was because I was gay. Like him. Which I never knew or suspected, but suddenly explained so much. I guess neither of us knew the other as well as we thought.
I was astounded that I was giving off any of these signals. And my discomfort compounded when I realized that I was giving off such mixed signals that the two people I was dining with took them in completely opposite ways.
Just when I thought the evening couldn't get any more awkward, one of the 'minions' came in and announced 'they're here sir.'
Our host shot me a look. “Call me crazy, but I still think this could work.”
“OK. You're crazy. I told you. I'm not gay.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Mikey asked.
I started to reply but the director interrupted me.
“Look. When I saw you in the lobby, you were wearing cargo pants and track shoes and a hoodie and you were wringing wet. Yet I instantly took you for Katherine Keller.... who was supposed to be in a maximum security rehab facility in the Oregon woods, far from paparazzi here to cover her dazzling screen performance. Even when I realized you weren't her, I thought you were a Katherine Keller impersonator... a contest winner here for god-knows-what parasitic promotion tied in with the film premiere. Not only were you not trying to convince me that you were Katherine Keller.... you weren't even trying to convince me that you were female …. yet you did. Convincingly. So, yes. I think this can work. I believe it can't help but work!”
“I never meant to mislead you.”
“Of course you didn't. Yet you still did. That's why it will work. They'll see you and think... her.”
“You're trying to tell me you've never dressed up as Katherine Keller?” Mikey asked.
“Of course not! I've never even thought about wearing women's clothes.”
“Ummm.... Annie Hall called. She'd like her blazer back.” Mikey grinned. I heard the director snort.
“Look. Does this look like a woman's body?” I said as I dramatically flung the jacket to the floor and pulled the black tee shirt tight around my torso so my ribcage showed through. “I'm freakishly tall.... all limbs and bones. I'm a big old gangly scarecrow. Do you see any boobs? ….Do I look like Katherine Keller?” I demanded.
The director's smile broadened. “Have you ever met Katherine Keller? Now I'm more
convinced than ever that this will work.”
“But I'm NOT gay!” I insisted.
“What does that have to DO with anything?” Mikey demanded. He was really getting irritated at my resistance to this crazy scheme. “It's not like anyone is asking you to have SEX with anyone!” then he glanced at the director sheepishly “...are they?”
The director smiled and shook his head. “Actually, that might be the only giveaway.”
I looked at him, confused.
“Katherine isn't exactly known as a paragon of virtue. Actually she kind of has a reputation as a human trainwreck. Somehow I suspect you may be too respectful and well behaved. Could spoil the scheme.”
“What exactly is the scheme?” I was a bit frustrated and grabbed the director by his lapels as I queried him. He simply smiled enigmatically.
“Maybe you DO have it in you.... OK. Here's the whole deal. Katherine is ….unavailable... I mentioned that... out of state rehab.... long story... unfortunate incidents.... lots of property damage.... no serious injuries or deaths thank God.... some witnesses.... paid off.... authorities involved..... warrants issued.... she's being held for.... treatment.... in another state. No extradition because no one knows she left the state. The legal matters are being …..handled.... by the studio. By the time she's out, it will be a slap on the wrist. I'm confident of that. But still, that will be at least 90 days. So we have a world premiere tomorrow and a nationwide press junket and no leading lady. I thought we were just going to have to do the 'you know those moody divas' thing to explain her absence and hope no one noticed she vanished from the face of the planet for at least three full months. I had grave doubts about its success, but it was the best we had. Until our chance encounter in the lobby this afternoon. My fury at thinking she had escaped....” I think that word just slipped out before he could filter it, but he said it and it was out there, so he just regrouped and moved on “well.... my....fury.... quickly turned to hope when I stumbled onto a girl who won a Katherine Keller lookalike contest and was so convincing that she even completely resembled Katherine as very few have ever seen her.... thank god.... Without makeup and wringing wet!”
“But I won the contest” Mikey protested. “And it had nothing to do with a Katherine Keller lookalike!”
“And... HELLO.... I'm not even a girl!” I added with just a touch of petulance.
His smile got wider still. “ALL of which is why I'm SURE this will work. It's all so wildly improbable a more superstitious person would deem it the result of divine intervention!”
“If this is the hand of God, then I'm the virgin Mary.”
“Time to meet your makeover team, Mare.” he leered.
I can't believe I'm doing this. Mikey and the director both have their reasons. Mikey is an awestruck fanboy, salivating at the opportunity to join me in hobnobbing with the stars he's worshiped for years. The director sees a way to protect the company's sizable investment with a little subterfuge that, by the standards of the industry is mild and so inexpensive as to be a bargain.
I'm doing it because it's more money that I could hope to make in 20 years for a few week's work . Plus if it doesn't work, I'm not responsible for anything. And it's completely anonymous. No one back home will ever know, and even Mikey is being paid a hefty sum in yearly stipends, to keep his trap shut.
And mostly I figured 'what are the odds of this actually working?' I figured I'd make a tidy sum just showing them how misguided they were.
The makeover team barely batted an eye when Dez informed them that I was in fact a male. They had me strip naked and looked me up and down. Dennis, one of the dressers looked at my package and said 'oh, honey... this is nothing... I've handled the girls down at the Queen of Shebar...” he snapped his fingers... “we'll have you squared away in a snap!” So this guy Dennis wasn't worried about my ….junk. And no one else seemed to notice that I was flat as a pancake. As they measured my arms and legs and torso and inseam, I kept asking them how they could make this work. And the universal response was “Honey... have you met Katherine Keller?” followed by a nervous laugh.
I eventually figured out that Katherine Keller was as gaunt and gangly – and even as freakishly tall - as I was. I was also informed that this was not uncommon in former supermodels. Since the camera easily puts on 5 ...or 35 pounds, being chronically malnourished was pretty much the norm in that field. The fitters regaled me with horror stories of the stuff they witnessed girls doing to their bodies to remain commercially viable. I felt a little guilty.. I told them the only diet I had ever been on was to load up on carbs before a long race or pasta and sugared soda after a 100 KM bike race or triathlon. They were stunned and looked at me like some sort of alien creature.
After the 'surveying' was finished and the crew gleefully clucked that their work was easy since I was no more than an inch from Katherine in any measurement.... to which Dennis whispered in my ear “including down-there. Bitch has serious camel toe” with a wink and a nudge that made me feel a bit uncomfortable... this is a woman whose life I'm stealing that we're dishing about.
I was then remanded to the custody of Miranda – the stylist. Or as I prefer to remember her: Miranda – the sadist.
Miranda had her own team of specialists, to handle my hair... coloring it to match Katherine's dark brown and weaving in extensions to draw it out to her length. She then oversaw a cut, that while not exactly what she wore in the movie, was close enough that it looked like a slightly grown-out, restyled version of the same head of hair. While I sat, eyes closed, having my hair styled and pore cleansing masque hardening on my face, minions were at work on my hands and feet. I could feel them filing my nails, scraping and sculpting my cuticles and applying what smelled like polish. Then came the coup de grace as I was slathered with what I thought was another masque – only over pretty much my whole body. I zoned out as it slowly hardened and seemed to shrink and tug at my skin. Then I howled in shock as they suddenly ripped it from my skin....with my skin?.... over my entire body! I felt like a peeled grape. But the feeling passed. I was now smoother than a baby's bottom everywhere I could feel. They then sat me back, did my makeup and spritzed me with the Michael Kors perfume that Katherine did all the ads for. Dennis came along and said “don't flinch. This is way easier than the waxing” and did some criss crosses of cloth tape around my groin, pushed some stuff inside, wrapped my ….thing... in tape like a mummy, then hauled it back between my legs and taped it up between my cheeks.... pulling now excess scrotal skin around the sides of the center tape so that it resembled a large, saggy labia. “Camel Toe” he reminded me.
While trussing me up, I asked him. “How exactly am I supposed to ….ummmm pee?”
He scrunched his face up. “....carefully?” Then he laughed. “Kidding! This is just a fitting, and yeah.... we really didn't give any thought to that because we didn't know you were a …. well, you know....” and he slapped my shoulder teasingly. Then he said. “Just hold it if you have to for now sweetie. After this fitting we'll get everything squared away and by the next time, we'll have everything all sorted out.”
I assured him that my bladder was fine for the moment, but that I was concerned about the times when it wasn't. He insisted that it wouldn't be a problem, though I'm not sure even he had figured out how.
Then things got really weird.
I'd been primped and plucked, powdered and perfumed.... I'd been flayed alive, I was standing stark naked and shivering in the middle of a group of strangers with my plumbing trussed up like some sadistic ritual. I was acutely aware of my – hopefully imperceptible trembling, and the gooseflesh on my skin. I was appraised by the cold, clinical eye of Martine, the one who seemed to be in charge of this large entourage. She nodded slightly and racks of clothing were wheeled into the room. Dennis the dresser whispered something to her and she smiled slightly and nodded. At that, he scurried off and returned shortly with some small flat boxes. With a flourish, he produced some breathtakingly sexy lingerie and sheer, shimmering hose. I knew my eyes went wide at the sight of them, and I can't even imagine the expression my face made when I realized what I was expected to do with them.
“I.... I really don't know where to... what to... how....”
Dennis tisked at me slightly. “Are you telling me you've never worn expensive lingerie before?”
I nodded absentmindedly and said, practically to myself “I've never worn any womens.... anything.”
“Get OUT!” He slapped my arm playfully. But as I turned to him with what must have been a deer in the headlights expression, his face went somber. “get...out?” He whispered. Then he regained his focus and grabbed hold of my right shin, gently lifting my foot off the floor. “One leg at a time hon...” he smiled as I absentmindedly let him bend my limbs like a barbie doll. He pulled the panties up to my knees, grabbed my two hands and placed them under the side panels. “Now, just pull up.” he smiled, which I did... still staring blankly into space like some sort of robot or zombie. I was completely detached from this utterly foreign experience. Though it wasn't really foreign. I'd pulled on underwear every day of my life... so it was totally familiar in a way... yet completely alien.... I could feel the sheer silk hugging my hairless body, and sitting in a very unfamiliar way as it rested snugly against my tucked away parts. I'd half expected to become aroused... but I didn't. I think the sensations were so strange and new that they must have just overloaded my brain. I was not aroused... not sexually. Yet the sensations were overwhelming in a different way. As Dennis handed me the brassiere, a thought hit me.
“Are these...” I said, glancing down at my glistening panties and the filmy brassiere dangling from my hand “...are these....hers?”
He looked confused for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. “Oh, no. They're brand new.... they're yours dear! ….but yes.... they were from her collection. She only wears new underwear.” Then he put his hand up to my ear and whispered “I don't think that girl knows the word 'laundry'!”
He took the bra from me and started to explain how to put it on when I just reached out and ...did it... “Pretty much only one way to do this, right?” I smiled as I reached back and hooked the clasp without even thinking.
“And you've never worn womens clothing before?” he cocked an eyebrow.
“Well that's not the only way to learn how a bra works!”
“Ah... girlfriends?....” he leered
“And movies...television....magazines.....” I tried to veer the subject from girlfriends. I wasn't exactly the hot catch at my school.
“Well, wherever you learned it, you learned it well. ….You're a natural....” I got a feeling that he felt he'd gone too far. I decided to shrug it off and keep things light.
“Like learning a language...” I shrugged. “Best way to do it is to just think in it. Like a native.”
He grinned. “I like that. And you're right. My god, you're such a natural I keep slipping and thinking you're Katherine. But thankfully, you keep reminding me you're not.”
I blanched. “Oh no! What am I doing? ...or not doing?”
Dennis grinned “you're not being all bitchy and shrieking at me... God, girl. I could get used to this!” he grinned as he playfully slapped my arm. Then he caught himself and gasped. “Oh, God. I'm so sorry! I mean ...guy.... dude....” The words sounded so alien coming out of his mouth.
I laughed. “Dennis... it's ok... none taken!” I gave him a warm smile. “In fact, I take it as a supreme compliment that you feel that comfortable around me.”
He fidgeted slightly. “Actually, a lot more comfortable than I ever did around ….her.” He put his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground as he continued talking. “Actually, she's always so …..high strung... none of us ever know what's going to set her off.... If I wanted to work on the bomb squad....:”
I just had to laugh. “Oh my God! What is she... the blue wire or the black wire?”
He grinned back at me. “We never know!” and he laughed with relief as my shoulders shook from my trying to suppress my own laugh. Then, deadpan, he did a spot-on Danny Glover Lethal Weapon impression. “....I'm getting too old for this shit!”
And we both had to hold on to each other to keep from collapsing to the floor in spasms of laughter.
Somehow, that moment completely evaporated any tension over the supreme strangeness of my never expected situation, and I surrendered myself to the moment. I was not Katherine Keller. Everyone made that clear. And clearly they all meant it as a supreme compliment. However I was a perfect doppelganger of the notorious celebrity trainwreck, and I figured if they could turn her into the glamorous starlet in all the magazines, then maybe ...just maybe.... they could equip me with what I needed to pull this P.R. scam off.
After Dennis was through with me and I was decked out in 'my' lingerie, sheer stockings and alarmingly high strappy heels, he summoned Grace - the 'filler'.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but Grace quickly unpacked a number of silicone ..pads.. and draped them across my thighs wrapping around to my backside, and she brusquely thrust her hands inside my brassiere, dropping some cold silicone wedges against my chest and then tugging my chest skin on top of them so that the bra suddenly appeared to be appropriately filled.
“Unlike the lingerie...” Dennis grinned “...those are Katherine's. ….Custom fitted and damned expensive!” He smiled wide as he looked me up and down. “And they fit like they were custom fitted for you! ….So own them! Walk over to me girl.” He snapped his wrist and fingers and pointed at the floor in front of him. I began to walk, but in the heels, and with the ...weight.... and ….ballast.... of the silicone hip pads and the ….pendulous... sway of the inserts on my chest, it was all but impossible to walk the way I used to. And even if I could will myself to do so, it seemed pointless and counterproductive. This body knew how it wanted to carry itself. There was a right way to do it, and I instinctively felt it. By the second step I knew it and slid right into it. And by the sixth step, I had taken Dennis' earlier advice and was owning it. It felt empowering and confident and ….as it was supposed to be.... I'd agonize over that later, but in the moment I was feeling it.... and felt I was nailing it. And looking at the sparkle in Dennis' eyes, I was sure I wasn't the only one noticing this.
The wardrobe crew came in and draped me in the beaded designer gown chosen for ….her.... to wear at the premiere. It slid down my frame and fell to hang perfectly on its own. This seemed to startle the wardrobe crew who stood ready with their clips and pins to 'make it work' but found themselves with little to do.
Dennis nodded and called for Talia, who quickly appeared with a stack of boxes filled with lavish accessories like a diamond choker which she fastened over my underwhelming adam's apple, matching chandelier earrings which she threaded through my lobes with just the lightest struggle. I breathed with relief that the holes remained open. A sparkly bangle bracelet, a jeweled comb hairclip, some rings and a subtly extravagant ankle chain completed the accessorizing.
This probably should have weirded me out, and looking back, I'm not sure why it didn't. Maybe it was all so overwhelming, my brain simply couldn't process it. So instead, I was simply numb and acquiescent when Dennis walked to the door and smiled “Showtime!”
I took a deep calming breath, absorbing the scent of my perfume, held my head high, and braced for impact.
Dez and Mikey were sitting by the window. Dez seemed to be regaling my fanboy cousin with tawdry tales of tinsletown when Dennis loudly cleared his throat and they turned in unison. And froze.
It was exactly the encouragement I needed. I had seen the reflection in the mirror, but it felt like looking at someone else. But now I could feel their eyes riveted on me, and I lifted my chin a little, slipped the slightest trace of a self-assured smile on my face and returned their gaze. ….when I realized they weren't looking at my eyes. Reaching up and brushing my hair with my hand to flash the sparkling earring caught their attention and their eyes lifted until I knew they were on my face. THEN I caught their eyes with mine and was certain I had captured their gaze. Whether it was by sheer force of will or whatever, I knew they wouldn't break eye contact until I was ready. And I was far from ready.
I strode across the living room of the suite, acutely conscious of when the floor changed from carpet to a tiled area in the middle of the room. I was fully awaiting, and gratified for the confirmation when my stilettos hit the tile with a satisfying click and the sensation of the hard tile traveling from my heel up my leg bones. The sound and sensation emboldened me and made my stride stronger and even more sure. I think by this time, it should probably be called a strut. I didn't set out to show off, but with the feel of the shoes on the tile, the brushing of the clothing against my frame, and the weight and sway of the hip and breast pads, as well as the subtle tug of the earrings swaying to the rhythm of my gait, it was damn near impossible not to walk sexy. So I just threw myself into it and swam with the current so to speak.
I took the long way across the room. To prolong the experience, sure.... but also to swing over to a counter with flutes of champagne on a tray. I swept one into my hand without breaking my stride and walked over to face them, choosing to seat myself on the arm of a nearby loveseat. I would have preferred a stool, but the arm was high enough to allow me to sit in the heels and amply display my crossed legs in shimmering hose peeking out through the slit in the long gown. I somehow knew that if I had chosen to sit properly in the low chair, I would be hunched up like a bucket seat and the effect would be ruined. I then lowered my eyes for a moment ...releasing their gaze, and looked at them hopefully. “Well?” I smiled.
“Jesus” Dez muttered.
“Christ!” Mikey gasped.
I was enjoying this newfound power, and decided to experiment with it. Seeing if I could switch it off and more importantly back on. I consciously thought of myself as L.C. And tried to project 'his' facial expression and body language. I furrowed my brow, changed my posture and in my flat L.C. voice said “too much?”
They reacted as if slapped out of a trance. They jerked their heads back. Mikey said. “No...NO... man....” then squirmed uncomfortably. “You, uh.... you make it ….work”
Dez just nodded mutely.
OK. The 'off' switch seemed to work. Now for the real test. Could I turn the reality distortion field back ON? I gave it just a moment's thought and decided to trust my instinct. I thought 'I AM her' as I changed my posture and facial muscles again. I let out a nervous – hopefully feminine – sigh, and shrugged my shoulders back, which jiggled my breasts ever so slightly, giving me subtle tactile confirmation, and my companions a near-subliminal assertion that I was back in female mode again.
“This is all so new to me...” I said in my 'Katherine voice' waving my hand up and down my body. “I'm not sure what's enough and what's too much. I'm counting on you ….especially you Mr Lehman... since you know her... for feedback.” I bit my lip slightly in what I hoped would come off as a nervous, almost fawn-like appearance of uncertainty. “I'm inside looking out, so I have no idea if I'm successfully looking and acting like her. All I can tell is how I feel ...and since I don't know how it's supposed to feel, I have no idea if I'm doing it right.... ???” I looked at him sheepishly.
His warm ...nearly ...parental... gaze signaled me that yes, the 'ON' switch was right where I thought, and I had flipped it effortlessly.
“Oh, my dear....” he replied comfortingly and reflexively. Then he caught himself and I saw his face do a subtle ...thing... as he remembered who he was talking to. He nodded and slowly allowed himself a smile. “You are doing it exactly right. More than just right. ….In fact...” he squirmed almost imperceptibly “I keep finding myself forgetting that I'm talking to you and not her.”
I smiled broadly, relieved that the illusion was working. But something occurred to me. “When you catch yourself.... when you suddenly recall that I'm not Katherine Keller.... is there anything I'm doing.... or not doing... that reminds you?”
He laughed oddly. Almost guiltily. “You smile at me. Katherine is more of a ...scowler... and a yeller..” He lowered his eyes slightly. I think he felt bad talking about a woman who at this moment was detained in a rehab facility, and whom he was currently trying to replace... with startling success... with a boy.
I involuntarily squirmed at the thought as well. Then I struggled to regain my composure and steer the conversation to a less awkward place.
“That poor girl! I can't imagine going through life angry and dissatisfied all the time. She must be dreadfully unhappy. I just hope her hospital stay can help her. And I'm humbled for the opportunity to ...steward... her public persona and polish her reputation until she can come back and reclaim it.”
Dez looked at me oddly. “I have no doubt that you will. Just this initial test.... you don't just capture her physical likeness.... talking with you here... observing your body language... the openness of your eyes... the lack of ...defensiveness....” He exhaled deeply. “You don't just capture Katherine Keller the actress.... you capture the Katherine Keller people see on the screen or in magazines. You... in person... are the Katherine Keller the publicists dream of. You are more Katherine Keller – the icon – than Katherine Keller the high strung, neurotic person ever was! My biggest concern is that after you've spent a few months in her shoes, she may find them impossible to fill herself.”
He seemed lost in thought for a few moments, then I could ...sense... as he regained his focus. He clapped his hands together and triumphantly said “Well, this initial little test was startlingly successful, It exceeded...... well..... so..... if you're still willing to enter into this arrangement, I have not a moment's hesitation that I.... we..... er... our production company.... wants to proceed with this arrangement.”
I was caught up in the moment and still perhaps a little drunk with my newfound power as Hollywood starlet Katherine Keller. I immediately nodded my ascent and smiled at him in a way that made him blush... which had not been my intent. Still, it tickled me that I could have such an effect with a mere smile and eye contact. I was in. Wholeheartedly.
“Alright. We're diving right into the deep end. But after tonight, I have no doubt you will handle this effortlessly. We already know the gown she was to have worn to the premiere fits you like a second skin. And you carry yourself in it regally. So this is what you will be wearing on the red carpet at the premiere.”
“Red Carpet?” I guess I had always known he would want me to double for Katherine at the premiere, but I hadn't thought about the Red Carpet and the gauntlet of paparazzi and entertainment journalists. Dez seemed unfazed.
“Oh, please. You'll be fine. You've taken to being Katherine like a duck to water.”
“...or a swan!” Mikey chimed in, grinning.
“Michael...” Dez addressed him. “Would you do us the honor of portraying the celebrity press interviewing your cous.... Ms Keller?”
I think Mikey was suddenly overwhelmed by so many of his fantasies coming true... meeting his favorite director, getting to be part of a crazy Hollywood scheme that would only happen in a movie.... and finally getting to portray one of those pushy entertainment reporters he idolized.
“Ms Keller! Ms Keller!” He ran up to me and stuck a champagne flute in my face like a microphone.
“...I'm so excited to be here tonight to share this remarkable story with a new generation of audiences....”
“You gown is exquisite... who are you wearing and what about all those rumours linking you with Prince Harry?”
“This gown is from my dear friend, designer Laurent Richaud, the jewelry Harry Winston of course..... but the evening isn't about me or what I'm wearing.... it's about this remarkable story and the amazing team of creative people, both on and behind the screen who collaborated to bring you the film we are about to see tonight.” I then smiled, batted my heavily mascaraed lashes and continued walking.
Mikey called after me like a pushy reporter “...but what about the..”
I cut him off “..Enjoy the film!...” I smiled turning my head over my shoulder to glance at him while I continued to walk away without missing a beat.
“Ha, ha! I said you were a natural!” Dez laughed.
“Thank you” I smiled, relieved. This was beginning to feel surprisingly natural surprisingly quickly. I was beginning to think I could do this in my sleep. Then Dez brought me back down to earth.
“There is still one major area of concern” he frowned. I raised an eyebrow at him. Mikey and I glanced at each other. I thought I was nailing it. “Your accent.”
“Well, can't we just say she's still caught up in character from the movie? That happens with actresses, can't it?”
He nodded slightly. Then his frown turned into something else. It wasn't exactly a smile. I couldn't quite read his expression. There seemed to be humour there, but no joy. “Of course. You never saw the film. …..Katherine never ...got... the accent. Oh, she tried.... but it came out as ….something …..else....”
“Like Gwenyth Paltrow in 'Sliding Doors'?” Mikey grinned.
The director regarded him with a melancholy smile. “....More like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.” And we all involuntarily winced. He scanned the room and grabbed his iPhone. “Skip... get a screener of 'Birds sent to Ms Keller's suite.... and round up as many of her other DVDs as you can. Could you get someone to burn any interviews or presskits she's done to a disc and send them along too? Umm..thanks.” He put his phone back in his jacket and turned back to me. “I think it's best that you waste no time on that ...interesting... accent she did in Thornbirds and instead focus on the actual Katherine Keller accent. It's actually a non-accent, since she spent years while she was modeling going to voice coaches to lose her thick Pittsburgh accent and get a generic 'Hollywood Starlet' accent in order to achieve her next career goal. Which as we all know, she did in spades. Focus on her Audrey Hepburn/Marilyn demure delivery, but never lose sight of the fact that the accent is built on the solid foundation of her native accent from an old rustbelt foundry town. Are you familiar with Pittsburgh? ...from movies?
I thought hard.... “Flashdance” I volunteered.
He shook his head. “Not a good example.” Then he smirked “For accents. But you could pick up a few things.”
I felt myself blush.
“Perks of being a wallflower?” Mikey asked.
The director nodded slightly. “Better than Flashdance.” he smiled. “Still, not exactly Rosetta Stone for a Pittsburgh accent. Yet you could learn a thing or two from Emma Watson. Her accent.... or her complete lack of her own accent.. are impressive. If you can lose your own and get ...close... to Katherine's....” He furrowed his brow, then waved his hand around. “any slight slips from Katherine's accent we can explain as residue from all the training you did for your accent in the film....” He clapped his hands together, and I got the distinct impression that having satisfied himself with the resolution, the subject was closed. “Alright. I'm having DVDs and other ….study materials... sent to your suite....”
“Room.” Mikey said with a bit of disdain. “It's nice, but it's far from...” he swept his arm waving across Dez's lavish accomodations “...a suite.”
Dez smiled nervously and eyed me. “I'm afraid that will not do. Once the press gets word that Katherine Keller is staying here in advance of tomorrow's premiere ….and I've already leaked word.... The paparazzi will converge on her suite. So she must have a suite. ….and she does... the rooftop terrace suite directly above....” Then he grinned wickedly “And extremely visible to any paparazzo with access to a helicopter and a telephoto lens. Welcome to Katherine Keller's world my dear.”
He then turned to Mikey and seemed honestly apologetic. “I'm truly sorry to break up you and your cousin on your holiday. But you understand, she must be Katherine from this point on. And the press is....pretty pervasive...” he smirked “...not really any chance of alone time between you two from this point on.”
Mikey shook his head sadly. I tried to cheer him up. I walked over to him on my towering heels, lifted his bowed chin gently with my index finger and smiled. “Hey. At least now you have your own room!” Then a thought hit me and I scowled reflexively. I put on a stern face and gazed into his eyes with as much authority as I could muster, “You MUST not tell your parents that your chaperone ditched you!”
At that, he burst out laughing and shot out of his chair giving me a tight hug. I stroked the back of his head as one would a cherished child. We slowly pulled apart, and he gazed up at me. I think I saw a glisten in the corner of his eye, but knew he'd deny it anyway, so I let it go.
“Knock 'em dead cuz. ….see you at the premiere?”
I nodded. “Count on it!” and I shot him the sultriest Katherine Keller smile I could come up with. He choked out a laugh and waved as he walked to the lift.
Suddenly I was standing alone, in designer gown and jewels, scent of perfume in my nostrils... acutely aware of the dead sexy lingerie underneath it all and feeling the heaving of my breasts with every breath. And I turned to look at this middle aged stranger I had met just this afternoon as he regarded me intently with a look I could not read.
“Well. This is awkward!” he exclaimed, breaking the tension. I exhaled with relief and my relaxed smile signaled my agreement.
“So young lady....” he waved his hand around. “...oh, I know.... but if we're going to do this, we must fully commit.”
“You mean I must fully commit....”
“Yes. Especially. But no one around you must give it away either. So, from this moment on, you must be Katherine Keller. Or at the very, very least.... Elsie McGuinness... a Katherine Keller lookalike hired by the studio to distract the press and protect the star. That way even if our primary goal fails, we still succeed in protecting Katherine.”
“...and ME. If they think I'm a hired lookalike, they'll be dismissive and contemptuous. But if they find out I'm a bloke passing myself off as Katherine Kel..”
“Don't even GO there.” he snapped. “Not gonna happen and it can only distract you from your goal. And we need 100% of your focus. You have some serious immersion training ahead my dear. You need to get her accent. And observe her body language and gestures. Her demeanor in interviews – since the public face is the only one you need worry about.... that's all anyone will see. Study the way she carries herself..... actually, you pretty much have that down, so don't spend too much time with that.” He smiled and put his hand around my waist leading me to a large gentleman who looked like a linebacker in a very expensive business suit. “Emile will escort you to your suite. Oh don't worry about the gown. The wardrobe crew is waiting for you in your suite. They'll take care of it until the premiere. Anyway, you can't surrender it until you have something else to change into. Sorry, those chinos and Wallabees simply will not do.” he smiled. “The team is already preparing your suite. You'll find everything you need to be completely Katherine from skin to smile. And a team of coaches to give you a crash course in Katherine 101. ….I'm afraid you won't be getting much sleep tonight....” and his face screwed up in a reflexive smile.
I took a guess “....much like the real Katherine?” I smiled.
He winked at me. “She's a fast learner!” he said to the burly gentleman who held open the door and escorted me to my new rooftop terrace suite.
It was opulent. I will give it that. But obviously privacy had not been a consideration. In fact it seemed to be designed as a display space. Everything was glass walls and open terraces, with a spectacular view of the Los Angeles skyline. I was not familiar with the politics of celebrity, but I knew this particular suite was designed to publicly show off. To the celebrity press I guess. And I was the currently featured display piece. It pretty much demanded that I be Katherine at all times and never let my guard down. I thought for an instant, at least there's some privacy in the bathroom. I suppose I could at the very least pee standing up.... just for the sake of doing something familiar.... but even that was not to be. After my ritual disassembly, I was ushered by the team of professional pamperers.... because that's essentially what they were.... into the spacious, but private 'spa' ….calling it a bathroom would just be wrong, because while it had the basics, it also contained much much more, including private sauna, steam and jacuzzi, personal massage table and lots of other stuff I did not recognize. I was so out of my element, I just smiled and did what I was told. Until the shots. Those came as a rude surprise, but by the time I objected, the deed had been done. I was told they were a stimulant to keep me alert for the long night of studying, something to keep me calm and focused to maximize retention of all the studying, and a megavitamin cocktail like an injectable Red Bull, to boost my stamina for the long hours and little sleep ahead for the next 48 hours. I was assured by the staff that 'Doctor Dale' was one of the best in Hollywood, and a favorite of all the A list celebrities. 'Yeah. Like Michael Jackson....' I thought to myself. But... the deed was done, so I just took a deep breath and hoped for the best. I knew my handlers would want to protect their investment, so I had no real worries. At least about the short term.
Actually, within about 20 minutes, I really did seem to feel calmer yet more alert. Maybe it was the steaming bath they poured me.... slippery with sensuous oils and pungent with relaxing aromas of lavender and vanilla. I was very relaxed. And apparently quite suggestive. I barely shrugged when the 'Doctor' sat me on the massage chair and started playing with my groin. I guess I was distracted by Mina... the masseuse. She was kneading my shoulders and speaking soothingly of focusing on releasing all the tension from my muscles and paying attention to my breathing and ….I guess in hindsight.... hypnotizing me. At the time I thought it was simply a relaxation technique. And it was definitely that too. Because when I started paying attention to the outside world instead of the images in my mind again, I was extremely relaxed. And at peace. And refreshed. I felt ready to study all night and into tomorrow.... right up until the time I had to dress for the premiere.... by which time I knew with every fiber of my being, that I would BE for all intents and purposes, box-office siren Katherine Keller.
I had been studying for a few hours... distractedly nibbling on celery and sipping a kale smoothie, when I felt nature call. I excused myself and made way to the spa. Now I feel silly calling it that, since I simply had the urge to pee. I remembered my earlier passing thought that this was the one place where I could be L.C. without the ever present paparazzi getting a candid photo, so I smiled to myself and deliberately ….actually against all current instincts.... (curious, that... have to ponder that later) I very consciously stood before the toilet, sliding my designer jeans down to my calves, and slipping my palms between my hips and panties slid them down with the backs of my hands. I reached down to grab and aim.... and groped around with increasing alarm wondering why I was suddenly unable to find it! My growing distress was overridden by the insistence of my bladder as I quickly realized the only course of action to take. I dropped the seat and spun around to relieve myself. I heard it said the human mind can't entertain multiple thoughts simultaneously, but I beg to differ. At that moment my mind was an equal mix of physical relief, confusion and dismay about what happened to my 'equipment' and a concurrent 'duh!' that I should find myself sitting down, jeans around my knee length leather boots, eyeing my cerulean panties over the mound of my breasts under my cowl neck top in my peripheral vision, listening to myself pee.
The part of my brain that said 'you are Katherine now...just go with it' was perfectly at ease with the situation. The part of my mind that said 'You're L.C. As you have been for the entire 18 years of your life... until you decided to buy into this crazy charade only a few hours ago' was quietly freaking out about everything, and the missing member was the latest alarming development. Eventually, I figured 'you're both right. I was L.C. and will be again. But I'm Katherine now and there's certainly no place for that organ in her universe'. So I stopped worrying about it. The ease with which I did this should have raised alarm bells, but that would be paradoxical, so I never questioned why I never questioned it.
I spent the night - and early morning - watching her DVDs.... actually, the DVD extras, with interviews and commentary tracks.... studying her cadence... her accent.... her vocabulary and speech patterns. I felt like a pod-person learning how to be my subject. But since that relaxing massage and meditation, I'd lost all anxiety that I could not succeed. I devoted myself to becoming Katherine. The Katherine from the DVD extras and commentaries. ….the public Katherine.
I had about four hours sleep. But it seemed to be enough. Maybe it was the vitamin shot. Maybe it was the massage and meditation session. I was vaguely recalling the meditation while I was relaxing to the massage. There were specific references to letting go and becoming Katherine... to total surrender and commitment to being Katherine. I figured it was part of 'getting psyched' for the role – kind of like 'method acting'.... and I was totally OK with that. So I accepted the suggestions willingly ...no... gratefully... because they would help me commit to the role and carry it off successfully. No. More than that. I could own the part. I would be more Katherine Keller than the real Katherine Keller ever was!
It was a whirlwind of a morning. I had a sort of 'final exam' from Naomi, one of Dez's colleagues at the production company. She grilled me on all things Katherine, and I guess I passed. She nodded with a slight smile while I sat in my robe ...or was it Katherine's robe?.... enough of those thoughts... at that moment it was my robe... as I was saying, I was sitting at the suite's bar/breakfast station sipping a half-caf macchiato – Katherine's wake-me-up of choice, as I had learned from my handlers.
Naomi gave me a satisfied nod. “Good. Now we're going to do some role play. I'm going to give you the full press treatment, from fawning entertainment reporters to confrontational shock-jocks trolling for a soundbite that'll go viral. ...Macchiato?”
I nodded. “Half-caf.”
“Just like hers...”
“...Dennis told me.”
“....Nice touch. ….and the....” she waved her arm gesturing up and down the length of my body as I sat on the high stool sipping my coffee.
“The robe? I presume it's hers. Or one just like hers.”
“No. The pose. The way your legs are draped on the stool, crossed with your right foot hooking through the leg over your toes.
I shrugged.
“No one coached you?”
“... I think that's how I always sit.... well, how I would sit on a stool this high, if I were sitting here in a robe. It just seems like the way to sit. Modest but comfortable.” I unhooked my foot and adjusted to sit knees together, uncrossed... suddenly feeling very self conscious.
Naomi smiled. “Sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. ….I've just never seen anyone else perch that way.”
“You do it too?” I asked, suddenly feeling a bit less awkward about it.
She snorted a laugh. “No! It would never occur to me to wrap my legs into the stool legs that way. Anyway, mine are way too short. ….but Katherine....”
I blushed. “long spindly legs.... I get it...” I smiled, hopefully not revealing too much embarrassment.
She shot me a relaxed smile. “You two seem to think alike. Your posture is remarkably similar.”
“Maybe it's not a gender thing...” I volunteered. “...just a gangly-limbs thing. I can't speak for her of course, but as far back as I can remember, I seemed to feel a bit like a daddy long legs trying to fit comfortably in furniture that was made for more.... averagely proportioned people.” I think my smile betrayed memories of my awkwardness.
Naomi smiled. “This certainly isn't the sort of thing anyone would ever discuss with Katherine, but applying it to her... it would explain a lot.” I began to sense a genuine warmth from this woman who initially seemed to be here simply to do a job.
“OK. Enough idle chitchat. Make yourself comfortable.... stop thinking about your body language. Your instincts seem really really good. If you slip, I'll tell you, but I doubt you will. Stop thinking about your posture and focus on my questions. It's time for role-play 101: hostile media relations.”
Which is what we did for the next 90 minutes. It was intense. And brutal at times. And hysterically absurd at other times. Naomi put me through the wringer. I couldn't imagine any situation with the real press that Naomi hadn't put me through. There were times I was on the verge of breaking down into tears. But she showed me how to channel that into steely resolve to NOT let them manipulate my emotions. There were other times where I was near-hysterical with the ridiculousness of some personalities and situations Naomi played out. Again, she taught me how to temper my reaction and not let on how foolish I thought a person or question was, and not to offend or insult them no matter how hard their behavior seemed to beg for it. As I went through this grueling 'charm school', I began to think about the way people described Katherine's behaviour toward them. And I think I began to see it from her perspective. Or maybe I'm just becoming full of myself.
Anyway, after a very intense morning of 'Katherine Keller' school, I was passed with flying colors – even my accent – which was what I was most anxious about personally. The 'graduation ceremony' consisted of a brunch at Vitesse. One of the celebrity hotspots my cousin Mikey would kill to visit. I must never let it slip that I was there for a very high profile brunch with not only Dez, 'my' director, but Eoin, my costar and onscreen love-interest... and if you believe the tabloids, my offscreen partner in sexcapades as well.
'Brunch' consisted mainly of Mimosas and the occasional celery or carrot stick. Apparently another Katherine Keller tradition. No wonder the poor girl was in rehab. Well, before the drink hit me, I had a lovely conversation with Dez and Eoin. This was a pre-premiere photo op for the paparazzi, who were kept across the street from the restaurant, but close enough that they could shoot to their hearts desire with their long lenses as we dined on the patio. This was also another test of sorts... as Eoin had no idea I was not actually Katherine. I was instructed on the way over that I was to play it completely Katherine. If he twigged, he would be quickly brought into the loop and there would be no danger of a leak. But if I succeeded in fooling him, our odds of pulling off this scheme rose astronomically.
Eoin was charming. Greeting me with a big smile and a warm hug. After doing the celebrity air-kiss thing, his hand lingered around mine as we sat down. It seemed like a subtly romantic gesture. Maybe these two were romantically linked. I made a mental note to panic later about how I would handle THAT. But then I noticed there was something about his touch that just wasn't ...right. It seemed intimate and discreet... but it seemed to lack genuine warmth. I began to wonder if this very subtle public display of affection was in fact, just a masterfully played act? I sat, smiled, bantered. Nursed mimosas, which kept coming no matter how slowly I tried to drink them. After a while, Dez excused himself to hit the loo. The moment Eoin and I were alone, he whispered to me while still pasting on a smile for the cameras “Jesus Christ Kat... you're the last person I expected to see! After the whole thing with your Boxter and the charges. I heard you were laying low. Isn't there a fugitive warrant out for you?”
I just smiled dismissively ...which was pretty easy after 5 mimosas, and waved my hand as if swatting invisible gnats. “S'all under control. Dez and the studio have suits on it. I'm fine. And hey, if we worried about getting press attention for our film, I think I guaranteed that we're going to get a lot more coverage.” I smiled as a wicked idea hit me. “And just in case the press monkeys already forgot about my legal troubles, this should get their distracted attention.” I rose from my chair and Eoin, well-trained in the gentlemanly arts, pushed his chair back and started to rise himself. But I was already around the table, I pinned him in his chair, straddled him like a saddle and planted myself in his lap as I wound my arms around him. Cradling his head I brought him to me as I opened wide and out of the corner of my eye saw a flurry of chaos as the paparazzi pack across the street clawed over each other to angle for the best shot. He was startled and his body stiffened as my lips wrapped around his. Looking back, I'll blame it on the mimosas, but I think I was feeling a bit cheeky and really curious about something. As he responded, planting his free hand into the small of my back and pressing me to him as he swiveled to give the press the best angle of our 'clandestine' torrid moment, I noticed that his lips remained tightly shut. Not that anyone could tell, even from the stunned tables around us, let alone across the street. Still, I now had absolute confirmation that the 'thing' between Katherine and Eoin was yet another Hollywood stunt.
After a suitable time, he pushed me away with a loud whisper. “Jesus Katherine! Be DISCREET for God's sake!” I giggled ..genuinely... he may as well have said “ix-nay on the omance-ray!” I found this supremely funny, and fought to contain myself while I tried with limited success, to wipe lipstick off his face. I think he knew there was a trace left on his face, but pretended to be oblivious. All the more for the press to seize on. I seated myself and was about to wave off the fresh Mimosa they were setting down when Eoin beat me to it.
“Thank you Garret. But I believe Ms Keller has had enough.”
I mock pouted from one to the other, then nonchalantly redid my lipstick. I'll show you short attention span. I caught a gleam from Eoin. He knew exactly how I was playing this.
Dez rejoined us a moment later. As he sat, he looked uncertainly from Eoin to me and back again. He knew something was up. I wonder if he thought I let the cat out?
“....Did I ….miss.... anything?”
I smiled like the cat that ate the canary, and eyed Eoin. He just let out a resigned sigh and replied “I'm sure you'll be able to relive the moment on TMZ....”
And in case Dez was really not picking up on it, I rose and leaned over the table, practically smashing my boobs in Dez's startled face as I dipped my napkin into my water glass and stretched across the table to daub at Eoin's face.
“...missed a spot...” I slurred slightly. I wondered if Dez knew this was all an act. By the way I was wiping Eoin's face like a toddler, and sensing what seemed like genuine discomfort at this intimate and somewhat humiliating act, I hoped he knew he was witnessing a bit of inspired improv. Fueled only slightly by a stomach full of Mimosas.
I couldn't stop giggling in the limo back to the hotel. Dez conceded that the meeting was not only a success, but the 'cowgirl stunt' had the press buzzing and poor Eoin reeling. After Dez got off the phone with him on our ride back, he shot me a wicked smile.
“That poor poor boy. You really rattled him. He said, 'look, I knew she was crazy... you warned me and everybody knows... but my god, I thought she was going to rape me right there on the patio. I think I need a raise.” Dez laughed loud and hard.
'Ah ha' I thought. As if I needed anymore confirmation. But Dez supplied it nonetheless.
“You know you two aren't really an item? ...I mean you and....Katherine and Eoin....”
“We sure seemed like an item today!” I grinned. “In fact I'll bet we're a lead item on TMZ and Inside Hollywood”
“Yes. Your affair ….their affair... it's all very scandalous and feeds the media cycle. …..But there's not really ...anything there... away from the cameras... you do know that?”
“Well, sure. No real heat with Katherine.” I went out on a limb. “...but I bet L.C. Might be able to turn his head... if L.C. Were inclined that way....”
Dez flushed and bit his lip. He stared daggers at me. Then he stared off into space for a few moments. I could sense the wheels turning. “What gave it away?”
“Well, I presumed the whole romantically linked costars thing was at least as likely to be PR, but when I got the ….notion... to play to the paparazzi and did the ...as you so aptly called it... 'cowgirl thing'...”
“Not me. HuffPo. And it's all over instagram and youtube. Congratulations. It's officially a thing now.”
“Well... whatever” I said waving my hand around, still slightly feeling the mimosas “well, when I plopped myself down on him, I felt him stiffen...”
Dez raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, no! Not like that!..... in fact, that's the THING..... NOT like that. His back stiffened and he sort of froze. But..... 'little Eoin' didn't stir a bit.” I smiled wickedly. “That's what inspired me to take it further. I knew he wasn't into it, so it didn't seem real... just playing... and I hoped he'd see what I was up to and play along. Which he quickly did. He didn't even open his mouth” I laughed. “It was like he was being forced to kiss his creepy old grandma!” I couldn't stop giggling.
“You are a wicked, wicked girl!” Dez teased. Then he caught himself. He hesitated, searching my face for a reaction. All he saw was my wicked, wicked grin. I was committed to the role, and his ease of reacting to me as Katherine just bolstered my confidence.
Back to the suite, a relaxing Jacuzzi and brief nap then it was time to be fitted for the red carpet.
Another round of shots. Guess they wanted to be sure I was up for my Big Night and some serious pampering as I was prepared to meet my public.
I probably should have been nervous. Thinking back on that night, I had every reason to be scared witless. I think I was just so overwhelmed by everything, I just flew on instinct. The whole night is a blur in my memory. The red carpet. The fans. The media circus and studio politics. The schmoozing and posing with what felt like everyone who had ever appeared in a glossy celebrity fanzine. It was all so surreal and dreamlike, I felt like I was sleepwalking through it. I may, in fact, have nodded off for a moment or two during the film. It was ….long. And lavish. It reminded me a lot of the Bollywood movies that were always playing at the old video store when I was a kid. Lonnie, the owner wasn't Indian, but he was a huge Bollywood fan for their sheer audacity and enthusiasm. He turned the video store into a cyber cafe years ago, but I think films are still his passion if no longer his profession. I'd love to look him up when I get home and sit him down to watch the new Thornbirds. I'd love to watch his face as he experiences this film for the first time. It's as if someone stuffed Verdi's Carmen, Showgirls, and a Sergio Leone western into a blender then poured the slurry all over the Rocky Horror Picture show directed by the ghost of Busby Berkeley. The only things I can say with certainty about the film is that I have never, ever seen anything remotely like it.... and that it is, in its own way.... unforgettable. I think the audience was as stunned as I was.
As I spoke to the press on the way out, I kept on my perma-smile and kept saying vague things, like “I knew it was ...special, while we were making it, but seeing the finished product on the big screen.... it's so much ...more.... than I even imagined.” And “I have no doubt, that once word gets out, people will HAVE to see this for themselves. It can't be described. It MUST be experienced. ...am I right?”
I think a lot of the press who attended the premiere were on my wavelength, because I got a number of conspiratorial smiles and eyes crinkled with mirth as I 'talked up' the film in a way that sounded like standard film shilling, yet to those who saw what I saw on that screen, everything I said could be taken in an entirely different – but equally accurate – way. It truly couldn't be described and had to be experienced. Like an acid trip. Or near death experience.
Everyone from the production company seemed happy with my performance. No one seemed to sense any snark in my public comments. Which was a relief. I made great effort to sound enthusiastic and not come off as sarcastic. It seemed to work, as I overheard others involved with the film discussing with reporters how uncharacteristically gregarious and social I was. I heard several chortles as people had asked if I'd 'changed my meds'. Poor Katherine. If she had to face this shit all the time, no wonder it drove her to ….whatever it drove her to.
I met up with Dez and Eoin and half a dozen other cast members and we hit a quick succession of after parties. It was apparently all politics. I picked up on that pretty fast. At one high profile party packed with studio execs and hand picked media lapdogs who were sworn to 'off the record' status under threat of losing their privilege and access, Kirk, our music director kept trying to cajole us into doing a few numbers from the movie. He kept whining that we'd all worked so hard to learn them ...and he kept leering at me which drew a nervous laugh from the rest of the cast... that after all that work to finally nail our performances, it would be a shame to not do them at least one more time while they were still fresh.
“Like a BRUISE!...” I kidded, figuring it was the sort of thing Katherine would say. Apparently so, since it brought the house down.
Eoin stood up on the piano bench and shouted to the cast, “Maybe we should. If this movie isn't the blockbuster we're all hoping for, we'll need to do something to make a living. Maybe we could take it on the road as live dinner theater!” This brought another roar from the crowd.
I guess I was feeling very confident in the Katherine role, because I leaned over to Kirk who was standing by the piano, and whispered “How about 'Drogheda, my blessing my curse'?” The big 'showstopper' number between Eoin and Katherine with the rest of the cast. He grinned wickedly and slid behind the piano. As the familiar chords began to resolve into the piece and the cast recognized the number, smiles began to erupt and I noticed eyes all around the room searching to find me. I had snuck over to the doorway near the kitchen to intercept one of the bustling caterers. When one emerged with a fresh tray of hors d'ouvres, I hijacked her tray and spun into the room just as the intro was ending and began singing. I'll admit, I only saw the number once, when I sat open mouthed at the premiere, witnessing this astoundingly inappropriate number between the underage virgin and the priest. I may have only seen it the one time, but it was seared in my mind as vividly as if 'd witnessed a horrific accident. I was sure I recalled all the words, and even if I didn't, I assured myself, I already planned to ad-lib some preposterous parody lyrics anyway, keeping with the whole dinner-theater thing Eoin had quipped about. I belted out the number with near-operatic melodramatic delivery, all the while offering other party guests snacks from my tray and pretending to take drink orders.... which I sometimes managed to shoehorn into my ad-libbed lyrics, to the delight of the partygoers. Eoin quickly got into the spirit of things, commandeering a champagne tray from a waiter and proffering drinks to the guests as we did our number. When we got to one of the really awkward sexual tension moments in the number, he would grab a drink off his own tray, toss it back nervously and gulp loudly. It was very Nathan Lane. This tore up the house and actually played much much better than the prolonged tension in the actual filmed number. The rest of the cast joined us for their 'greek chorus' part and the big finale, grabbing napkins and pretending to wipe down tables, bus dishes and generally carry on as food service staff as we all brought it home to our big finish and the other party guests erupted into whoops and applause. Everyone joked that the 'dinner theater version' was looking better and better!
Eoin pulled me aside and whispered agitatedly “Jesus, Katherine! When the hell did you actually learn to sing?”
Oh crap. She didn't do her own singing? I caught Dez smirking out of the corner of my eye. He was enjoying this.
I blushed bright crimson. I could feel the heat light up my face. I smiled up at him bashfully and in a tiny voice, peeped “better late than never?” He let go of my elbow and stepped back, regarding me for an uncomfortably long moment. Then he threw his head back and let out a laugh that rang through the room, causing every head to turn in our direction.
“Just like the accent!” he howled. “YOU.... are fucking priceless!” He walked away shaking his head, but still laughing. I hoped we were still 'good'.
Dez wandered up to me smiling. “You, my dear, are simply full of surprises. What do you say we call it a night? I think you've done enough to Katherine's public image for one day, eh?”
I was suddenly mortified. I was feeling so full of myself, enjoying playing this role, that I went completely 'off-book' and did god-knows what damage to Katherine's reputation!
Once we were in the limo on the way back to the hotel, I began profusely apologizing to Dez. I felt so ungrateful. I was being paid a staggering sum to be treated like celebrity royalty, and really surprising myself by how much I enjoyed it. I began to relax and let my hair down ...let her hair down... and got swept up in the moment. I apologized over and over if I seemed snarky about the film, I thanked him over and over for giving me this job and expressed my profound regret at disrespecting all his hard work by doing that satirical dinner theater spoof at the party.
He listened quietly and impassively. Letting me trip over myself with my fawning apologies. When I finally ran out of steam and stopped to catch my breath and sat back to gauge his reaction, he simply put up his hand and smiled. “You were extraordinary. You charmed the press, got a lot of quotable soundbites in ….none of which came off as disrespectful of our work... despite whatever your true feelings may have been” he crooked an eyebrow at me and I blushed slightly. But he remained smiling. “Your performance at the premiere and demeanor at the parties was..... delightful and utterly unexpected. I'm hopeful that tomorrow.... later today.... people will be talking about our film. But I have no doubt at all that the media buzz machine will be buzzing loudly about you.”
“...Is that a good thing?”
He nodded.
“What do you think they'll say?”
He grinned. “Probably that Katherine Keller is obviously off her meds....” then he crinkled his eyes and turned to me “...and it is definitely an improvement!”
I got to sleep in until I was rudely awakened around noon by Dennis the entourage guy. “C'mon miss thing... rise and shine... things to be done... plans to be made... meetings to be taken...” he paused a beat and shot me a look over his shoulder “...hearts to be broken.” and he threw the bedroom doors wide open as he left. I was bathed in the aroma of freshly made coffee, so I grabbed my robe and padded to the kitchen bleary-eyed following the scent of my steaming half-caf macchiato.
Everything got packed up and we made our way out to the lobby and waiting limo. In the lift I asked Dennis where we were headed.
“Why, home of course.”
“Oh. Of course.... and where exactly is home?”
He just smiled and slapped me on the arm. “Girl.... You are so funny!”
As the small army that was 'team Keller' moved trunks and racks of clothing into waiting vans, I got on the phone to Dez.
“What about my cousin Mikey.... Michael? We agreed he's part of this plan too, right? Or I'll be forced to reconsider....”
“Of course he is. No one is forgetting him. My P.A. talked with him this morning. He has a few more things to do with the contest people, then he's free to head home. At which point, he'll actually be joining you.”
'Home', actually turned out to be Monterey. It seems Katherine was doing rather well for herself. Dennis told me she bought this back when she was modeling so she could have a place to escape 'the scene' whenever circumstances permitted, which were rarely enough. I was greeted cordially, and I also sensed, slightly fearfully, by the sizable house staff. Dennis quietly told me everyone's name and none of them seemed to notice that I wasn't the real deal. I had a message from Dez that he was coming up with Mikey the next day and we were going to discuss the press junket for the film, and what exactly Mikey's alleged role in my entourage was to be. I knew Mikey and I were also going to have to make a tricky long distance phone call and persuade his mum and dad to let him extend his stay.
I figured we could tell them that he so impressed the movie people that they offered him a job on the publicity tour.... perhaps as a dialog coach and background information advisor on all things Australian for those few cast members who weren't actually Australian... most notoriously celebrity terror Katherine Keller. ….Yes!... the more I thought about this, the more that story seemed to work for Mikey's folks and to explain his presence in my entourage. ….as for his older cousin, Mikey and I could explain how, since he was still 17 and legally a minor, he had been able to persuade the film company to let me tag along as his official chaperone. I was sure we could convince them. As for my own folks, I'm sure my mum would be thrilled that I was having a summer adventure abroad, and I figured my father would like the extra peace and quiet and not having to see me at the supper table each day. I only hoped he didn't seize the opportunity to throw out all my stuff and rent my room out to a boy who better met his standards. Still, I didn't worry too much. If he had my mum box up all my trophies and ribbons and put them in storage while he rented my room, I'd be ok with that. I would be able to afford my own place by the time this was over.
It seemed I had the rest of the day free. I wandered into Katherine's 'office'. I guess it was a tax thing or somesuch, but this was the room with all the Katherine Keller memorabilia.... her framed first Vogue cover.... a number of other framed glossy magazines and photos, including one with a very perplexed looking Dalai Lama which made me smile. There was her Golden Globe, her people's choice award, a number of teen spirit awards going back to the time she first started modeling. I hadn't realized how long she had been doing this. How long since she had been a part of the 'real world'. Maybe I thought that because I subconsciously saw what I now overtly noticed... her MTV award for that famous 'Common People' video. I'd forgotten about that. That was HER? Wow. And she's just a few years older than me. I was in grade what when that came out? That would have made her.... damn... when did she have a chance to be a teenager? Hmm. Maybe that explains a lot of what people say about her.
My eyes fell onto a stack of clippings on her desk. Some proofs of next week's entertainment magazines and some print dailies. There was an email from her agent filled with links to coverage around the net. Dez was absolutely right. Smartphone videos of our 'dinner theater' party bit. Some press about the film. Not all bad. In fact many quoted my enigmatic line about how the film must be seen to be appreciated. Some wags even suggested multiple viewings, suggesting it was too much for the mind to absorb in one sitting. A blogger crowed about how he was the first to 'invent' the Thornbirds Musical drinking game involving an often repeated bit of awkwardness that pervades the film, and I suspect Dez had thrown in there in the hope it would become a meme. Sadly it had, but not in the intended way.
There was a lot more talk about me... I mean Katherine. No, I guess I really DO mean me. Since it was my un-Katherine like behaviour that garnered so much press. As Dez predicted, nearly all of it was 'what the hell is up? This is not the Katherine Keller we know. But that's a good thing. Was she high? Is she bipolar? Whatever it is, we hope it's here to stay.' I sighed. I was totally upsetting her life. The life she was going to have to step back into when she returned from rehab. She's going to want to kill me when she finds out what I've done to it. And from the stories I heard, part of me thought that she actually might try!
Dennis came in to check up on me. He asked how I was doing and I told him I was just going to explore and get to know things better. He joked that I didn't have to worry about that, because Katherine really didn't know her own estate that well. She spent so little time here, hotels were so much more familiar to her, it was in them that she seemed to feel most at home. This place he said was more the Keller sanctuary for endangered species. I asked if she had rare animals. Dennis let out an odd, strangled laugh and quipped 'only the human kind'. And quickly changed the subject. I asked what exactly was his relationship with Katherine.
He took a long time to formulate his reply. And it was only one word, 'Fluid.' When I pressed him, he conceded that he and Katherine went way back. He thought a moment and ventured that he was her oldest... then he spent a surprisingly long time searching for the right word and came up with 'acquaintance'. He implied that she didn't really have friends. She had associates and business partners and collaborators. All were practical, need based relationships... agents, personal shoppers, image consultants, public relations coaches, personal trainers etc. She didn't really do friends, he confessed. About the closest anyone got to her was acquaintance – which was a person hired to do a job rather than her usual which was a job that required a person. So, as an old acquaintance, he had had a number of titles and responsibilities over the years. Until recently, he had been her personal dresser and image coordinator, making sure the public always saw the Katherine Keller that was expected. Never a bad hair day, never a style faux pas or wardrobe malfunction. He laughed, and explained that if I ever met the real Katherine that I would know what a truly stressful job that was. I told him that it sounded lonely for her. He got thoughtful and said that he never sensed that from her. He speculated that he didn't think 'loneliness' was in her emotional pallette. A curious choice of words that I would have to think about. As it turned out, I ended up thinking about it a lot.
I told him about Mikey's arrival and how Dez and the team were going to create a job title to explain his addition to the Keller entourage. Dennis nodded and said that was completely in line with the way things worked 'in Katherineland' and wouldn't draw any attention even from the closest insiders.
I asked if, since we were far away from the paparazzi, if it was ok if I just got comfortable. Dennis told me to help myself to anything in her wardrobe, since I was such a freakishly close match to her long wiry frame anyway. I found some workout wear that looked like it had never been worn, and, after clipping the tags, donned a pair of stretch pants, sports bra and running jacket with one of those iPod arm pockets, a pair of her running shoes and opened a packet of very expensive looking high-tech athletic socks and decided to explore as I told Dennis.
I stuffed my iPhone into the jacket sleeve and bounced out a side door and into her huge yard. Or maybe it was just a field. Eventually, I came to the beach and ran a few miles along the sand. I came across a concrete boat ramp and followed it up to a public road. I really didn't worry about getting lost, since I knew I could always use the gps on my iPhone if I became hopelessly disoriented.
The road eventually led to a very quaint shopping district with little boutiques... not a chain store in sight. I browsed the women's fitness magazines at a local bookstore and glanced to see myself plastered all over the covers of some gossip magazines. I almost laughed when I saw one that said in bold letters 'She Sings? She Dances? She SMILES???' I think someone at the store caught me glancing at the magazine and put things together because I noticed a slight commotion coming from a small crowd gathered by the front register. But no one was near me.
As I moved to the next aisle to browse, I felt the population of the store shift in response. It was as if I had some kind of force field that kept people at least twenty feet away. I began to have fun with it. Deliberately moving near where people were just to watch them nonchalantly amble over to more distant aisles. I was finally at a display near the front register which caused everyone to scatter to the far corners of the store.
I knew they were trying to figure out my odd pattern of movements. Why had I gone from magazines to the gay and lesbian section to home repair and now the occult/supernatural aisle? If they thought about it, they would realize there was a simple explanation. I was messing with them. Like a kid playing with a magnet... dragging the iron filings this way and that. I finally looked up from my book on automatic transmission repair to glance around at everyone who quickly averted their eyes, but fixed me in their peripheral vision. I lifted my arm and stuck my face in my pit, sniffing loudly, and looking back around the store questioningly. “What?” I loudly addressed the whole store. I may as well have yelled 'BOO!' judging by their reaction. They remained frozen, glancing one to the other. I finally walked up to the cashier who had to remain at her post and couldn't flee to join the others.
“What? Am I gross? Did I step in something? I feel like a leper!” I whispered.
“Oh! God, no. You're fine. You're more than fine. You're....” then she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “...aren't you... “
“Katherine.” I smiled as non-threateningly as I could. People seemed scared to death of me. “...from up the road.”
I stuck out my hand and the girl nervously shook it. I think she was expecting me to clutch her hand and thrust her into a canvas sack, taking her back to my lair like a fairy take witch.
“I was out for a run and thought I'd come in and check out some magazines..`...Want to freshen up my workout. But, um... then I remembered I didn't....” I said as I patted my skintight workout clothes, pointing out that I had no pockets, save the sleeve that held my phone. I smiled apologetically.
“No problem” said the cashier, beginning to relax a bit since apparently I was not going to start acting like an angry honey badger. “You can take what you want and pay next time. I'm sure Mr Carson won't mind.” she laughed nervously “It's not like you're not good for it!” suddenly she went pale at hearing her own words.
“That's really nice of you” I smiled “...but I'm left with the same problem" I said patting my torso and thighs again. "….unless you also sell backpacks.”
Her eyes went wide. “Um... no... we don't... maybe Linton's down the stree..”
“Kidding!” I playfully slapped her forearm. She let out a huge gasp of relief. Seriously.... was the whole town afraid of Katherine? Had she gone beserk on main street with a chainsaw?
“Tell you what. Can I grab a few magazines and leave them up here with you? Then when I get home and dressed like a cash carrying grownup, I'll come back and square up. OK?”
She nodded and walked with me to the magazine rack to help me gather my choices. I noticed she grabbed a gossip magazine too, but said nothing. When we got back to the register, she slid the magazine across the counter. “Since you're here. Is there any chance I could... I mean... might it be possible …. for me to trouble you to.....” I knew what she wanted and shook my head. She deflated a bit and sighed as if she had been expecting this.
I ran my hands up and down my workout clothes yet again and shrugged. “No pen”
Her glum expression vanished as she fumbled around behind the counter and quickly produced a Sharpie marker.
I spun the magazine around to face me and under 'She sings? She Dances? She SMILES???' I wrote “She SIGNS! To ….. “ I paused and looked at her querulously.
“Oh! Rachel!” she beamed.
“To Rachel. Thanks for all your help. Your....” I was going to write 'friend' but I remembered Dennis' comment about Katherine not having friends, and I knew that would be too far over the line, so I thought for a moment about what would work. I finally ended up signing “Your neighbor, Katherine Keller”. Penmanship lessons were part of the pre-premiere prep, since autographs were inevitably going to be involved. While I wasn't nearly good enough to forge her signature on a check or legal contract, it was deemed quite accurate and more than good enough for hastily scrawled autographs.
I slid it back to the beaming Rachel. Promising to be back for the magazines as soon as I could, then finally turned to the rest of the store who were all mutely watching this transaction. “Sorry for any disturbance. I'll go now, so you can get back to whatever it was I interrupted.” They shuffled nervously and I hope they felt suitably foolish over their bashful behaviour. I smiled, waved, and jogged out the door.
It was the same thing at the health food place, the running shop and the juice place. Though, like Rachel at the bookstore, they let me order a tall kale smoothie just on Katherine's good name. Or maybe feared name.
When I got back to the house, there was a flurry of activity. I was amused to find there was an escalating panic when I'd 'gone missing'. I reminded Dennis that I said I was going to explore, but he was thinking of me as Katherine, to whom 'exploring' might mean opening a drawer she never looked in. He had never imagined that I'd actually go running or that I'd run all the way into town. He mentioned that he didn't think Katherine had ever actually gone into town. He laughed, saying that the townspeople treated her like an urban legend. Everyone has heard of sightings, but no one ever saw her with their own eyes.
I laughed and told him about my very weird bookstore encounter, and how I'd speculated that maybe she'd gone nuts with a chainsaw on main street or something. He laughed loud and freely.
“That would be another reason! But no, THAT never happened.....” his laughter died down to a chuckle “still, I wouldn't put it past her” he laughed.
Dennis sent someone to fetch my magazines from the bookstore, as I decided I shouldn't go awol again, since straying from the grounds seemed to be very un-Katherinelike behaviour. I'm encountering this term so much, maybe I should just start abbreviating it uKb or somesuch.
I frittered around the house, enjoying her personal gym, enjoying the spectacular ocean view from her deck jacuzzi and exploring her 'infinite pool' I had never seen anything like it and did not know such things existed. It was a far cry from the community pool back home. Marta the personal cook came by to ask me what I would like for dinner. It seems Katherine's tastes weren't radically different from mine, and many of the choices that sounded most appetizing were actually menu items strongly recommended by Katherine's personal trainer and dietician and equally as strongly resisted by her. I, on the other hand was delighted to have such light, healthy choices and tucked in with enthusiasm when presented with my marvelous meal.
I made a point to thank Marta and her staff for a wonderful meal and asked her to pass along my compliments and gratitude to Kathy the personal trainer and Metz the dietician. I have no idea whether Metz is a first or last name or a man or woman, but I do know Metz has excellent taste, and that's all that really mattered. As I retired to the warm ocean breeze through the sliding screen to the outside deck and pulled the 600 thread count sheets around me, I thought to myself 'I could get used to this'. And had to remind myself that that was something I must not do.
Dez and Mikey arrived the next day, and I introduced Mikey to everyone. I think “everyone” was startled that Katherine even knew their names. One more odd 'Katherine-ism' to add to my mental notebook.
Mikey gleefully went exploring 'Casa Keller' as he quickly dubbed it, and Dez and I got right down to business – Hollywood style... over brunch.
“The cast has a slot on a network morning show day after tomorrow, but I'd like you to come to LA with me to do some post on the film. ...A few hours of ADR work.”
“I have no idea what you just said.” I smiled.
He seemed momentarily nonplussed, then grinned. “Sorry. It's just so easy to forget you're not Katherine. OK. We have a few things to finish up on the movie....”
“I thought the movie was done. We saw it the other night.”
“Yes, but it hasn't been distributed yet. A big plus of our digital age. No spending days printing hundreds of copies and shipping tons of film reels around the country. The day before it's released, someone just hits 'upload' and it begins being fed to all the theaters. Much less expensive for the film company, and it gives the producers even more time to tinker with the piece until it's frozen and uploaded. So.... I've been discussing with the producers, and after your ...attention getting... performance in front of them at Brett and Lena's party the other night, we've decided to bring you in for some ADR.”
“ADR?”
“Looping.”
I made a swirling motion with my arms “Looping?”
Dez sighed, speaking as if to a child. “Re-dubs. Dialog Replacement. You watch the movie from a voice booth and re-read the lines to match the lip-synch of the original dialog. It's done all the time where the original audio had a background noise or too much echo-ey 'room-tone'. I'm sure you've seen it where someone uses profanity and it's replaced with a nonsense word for the broadcast version.”
I nodded. I think I was getting it.
He smiled. “Hell, I've actually been on projects where entire scenes didn't work and writers created entirely new dialog! Skillfully edited so the character's lips aren't really noticeable, it can work surprisingly well.”
“So you're changing dialog, and you want me to record Katherine's part?”
“No. We haven't changed any dialog. Yes. We want you to re-record some of Katherine's lines.”
“But I'm no actress!”
“We don't need an actress. We need a mimic. And you have surprised everyone at how identical to Katherine you can be.”
“But if I'm identical, what's the point of me re-recording any of her lines.”
“Because YOU have the accent. You saw the film.... her accent was ...surreal.”
I had to smile. “It was unique.” Secretly I loved it because it made the movie even more bizarre and cult-worthy.
“OK. Agreed. So you will be re-recording Katherine's lines.”
“Which ones?”
“Umm ...all of them.”
“I'm not sure I can do that. I've never done anything like this before....”
“Let's just give it a try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Worst case, we're right where we already are now.”
“OK. I'll give it a try. NO. I'll give it my BEST.... I won't let you down.... but I do have one condition.”
“YOU... have a condition?” I could tell Dez didn't know whether to be amused or indignant. “Who are YOU to dictate terms....”
I put up my hand and smiled. “Just... just hear me out before you get all huffy.” He calmed down a bit and nodded.
“Until a few days ago, you were going to have a world premiere event without a leading lady. You were going to have to do some serious contortions to get through the press tour with one of your principals missing... AND you were going to release the film to the world with Katherine's original dialog.”
He nodded. “But now we have you and everything's changed. You're helping us tremendously ...AND getting very well paid for it... not to mention the ….incidentals...” he motioned around the palatial home. “So you are doing so well at becoming Katherine that now you are starting to make DEMANDS like her?
“Not demands. Just conditions.” I was not going to let him goad me. I remained calm and in control of our little negotiation. “Actually, it's just one condition. And it's a very small one. In fact it won't require you to do anything. Actually, I would like you to NOT do something.”
I think my setup had his curiosity piqued. He had no idea where I was going with this. I sensed curiosity replaced indignation.
“What exactly would you like us to do ….or NOT do?”
OK. Time for the big close. “When the DVD is released, I'd like you to also include an audio soundtrack with Katherine's original dialog. ….in addition to any version I do.... if I even can give you something you can use.”
He regarded me for a long time. “Why... provided we're even successful and you can re-dub her lines with an authentic dialect... why would you want to release her original tracks? Are you trying to take credit? To out yourself?”
“Of course not!” I shook my head, deeply offended at the thought. “I'm not asking for any credit. In fact, I'm at least as eager for me to remain anonymous as YOU are!” He seemed a bit contrite after my outburst, and I regained my composure. “I have a few reasons for this ….request... Katherine worked long and hard on this film. I feel bad enough stepping into her life while she's off god knows where, going through god knows what. I'm able to commit to this ruse because I keep telling myself that I'm doing her a favour of sorts... filling in for her while she can't... trying to keep her public image out there and to promote this project that she devoted so much of herself to.... I'm not replacing her... I'm standing in for her. I'm kind of holding her place... ready to relinquish it to her, in as good a condition as I can keep it... when she's ready to resume her own life. I do NOT want to storm in and replace her performance in this film. Accent or no accent, she put everything she had into her performance and I don't want to replace her. So, YES, I will supplement her... at your request... for the good of the film. But I want her original work available to anyone who cares enough to buy the film on DVD.” I stared him down. He seemed surprised, but not opposed. “SECOND....” I cracked a wicked little smile “...I want the superfans.... like my cousin Mikey... to be able to watch the movie both ways... call it 'before and after' dialog coaching. And I want Mikey to be listed in the film credits as Katherine's 'personal dialect consultant'. That'll drive his friends wild!”
“Well, the credits are a matter of union negotiations and legal....”
“Oh, come off it! You thought I was going to demand credit. I'm not... AND I'll be doing an awful lot of work on your little film. Throw my cousin a bone here.”
He smiled. “I'm sure we can work something out.”
“And don't breathe a word to him. I want it to be a surprise when he watches the DVD. He's one of those film nerds that sits through all the credits.”
“Our craft services people and transportation crew will be pleased to hear that.” He smiled.
“Anyway, it's not like this would be the first time anyone had done this.”
Dez raised an eyebrow. I don't know if he already knew and was curious to see if I could site precedence.
“Mad Max!” I said. He smiled. Of course he knew.
“They released the DVD with both his original 'Australian' dialog and the redubbed, 'English' version for international audiences who couldn't machete through the accent.” he grinned.
“It became a bit of a collectible, if I recall. There. You want a dollars and cents reason for agreeing to my condition? Release a special edition with both versions and other extras.... I'm sure you have extra stuff.”
“You have NO idea” he smiled.
Actually, I did. Among Mikey's incessant prattling on the plane over, he went on and on about how this particular director routinely shot enough material to make three or four full length films, then agonizingly whittled them down to something the studio would grudgingly let him release. Mikey kidded that he shot miniseries, but released movies.
“OK. It's agreed. We go to LA and I take a stab at rerecording Katherine's dialog with my own natural accent. ….because you know I've been working hard on her own American accent....”
“And you're nailed it. But you won't need it for this.”
“I've also been working on her movie accent and I'm pretty sure I can....”
“Noooo!” he laughed and held his hands up to shield himself. “Your own accent will be fine. The one you used when we met at the elevator in the hotel. The one that had me SO pissed off because I still thought you were her at the time and I was stunned that you'd never been able to grasp the accent when the cameras were rolling, but there, sopping wet and utterly unselfconscious, you absolutely nailed it.”
“Hard to believe that was three days ago” I muttered... as much to myself as to him. He seemed as stunned at the thought as I was. I just picked at my quiche with my fork as we mused on that. “So, when do we leave?”
“After brunch, get packed and we'll take the Jet Ranger down. Get as much done as we can today. Then all day tomorrow. Then off to New York and the media circus.”
I finally got to see real Hollywood. From the inside. And I couldn't help thinking about all those movie sets of medieval castles and western towns that were all just painted plywood facing the camera propped up with struts. 'Real' Hollywood consisted of going to a nondescript building in a nondescript office park, and going into a nondescript office with a small room ...or maybe large closet... with a large window and a microphone and headphones. I watched the movie on a big screen TV through the window, and the dialog was in a box on the screen, almost exactly like closed captioning. I would watch and listen in the headphones, and then we'd make a 'recording pass' and I'd talk over Katherine's lines, trying to capture her cadence and inflection, dead in synch with her read, in her tone of voice, but with my natural accent. It was both dead simple and surprisingly tricky. And grueling. We'd do it. And do it again. And again. And again until everyone agreed we 'had it' or they just got as sick of redoing it as I was, decided 'good enough' and moved on to the next scene. I now understand why they call it 'looping'. I was feeling spent and dizzy by the time we quit for the day.
Dez was surprisingly upbeat. I didn't understand. I felt I'd wasted so much of their time doing the same thing over and over, trying to follow their really vague directions but always letting them down, so we'd just do it again. And again. He explained that the process was monotonous by nature, and that I didn't take any longer at it than people who had been doing it for years. He even complimented me for picking up the process surprisingly fast, and said we were really tearing through it towards the end, but he could see I was getting spent.
“I thought you just got sick of correcting me after a few hours and were just making do with a take or two.”
He smiled. “If there's ONE thing I thought you knew about me by now, it's that I never 'just make do'.” He put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a small squeeze. “You took to it like a pro and we made great progress. I figure we should wrap up early enough for a decent dinner before we fly to New York.”
“What time do we leave?”
“After dinner.”
“No. I know. But I mean, what time is our flight?”
“When we finish dinner.”
I let out an exasperated 'grrrh' We were conversing in circles again. ..Talk about looping! “I MEAN, What time does our plane leave? Are we on the red-eye or something?” I actually didn't even know what the red-eye was, but I'd heard so many people talk about it, it seemed like a reference to throw in.
Dez laughed. “No! We're not catching the red-eye. We're heading east in our Gulfstream when we finish dinner.”
“Oh.” I said quietly.
“You still haven't figured out how this business works?” His words were mocking. But gentle. I just frowned contritely and let him go on. “First, if we caught an overnight flight, we'd barely make it in time. And there are so many variables. If the airline had a delay or a weather diversion or anything, we'd be totally screwed. Just two more sardines in the can. The studio has a Gulfstream. Actually, a few of them. And we can lease more when we need and lease ours out when we don't. It's sound business. AND there's a lot more cachet when your star flies in on her private jet.”
I nodded as his eyes went wide with another thing that seemed to just occur to him.
“AND none of us wants you going through the full body scanner at airport security!”
I blanched at the thought. Then Dez chuckled wickedly and I felt a joke coming at my expense.
“....Not that they'd SEE anything... Doctor Dale saw to that.”
How could I have forgotten about that! I remembered that disorienting moment in her suite when I first went to pee, but I put it out of my mind with a quick 'of course it would be gone, you're playing Katherine now' and never gave it a second thought. What the hell???
“Yeah.” I said. I could feel my anger rising.
“Just noticed, eh?” Dez laughed. “They promised it would work, but I didn't believe them until I saw it with my own eyes. Those shots Dr Dale gave you were loaded with vitamins. And a powerful tranquilizer. You weren't exactly out. But you sure weren't there.” he laughed.
“You ROOFIED me?”
“Of course not!” he got all uppity and offended. Then he sagged a little. “Well, sort of, I guess. ...actually it's a sedative used routinely in outpatient procedures. Ever had a colonoscopy?” I shook my head. “Of course you haven't. Give it a few decades. Well, anyway, this drug makes you zone out. You're responsive to instructions, and kind of aware what's going on, but you really don't care. I guess the closest thing I can relate it to is when you're still half-asleep. You're going through the motions, not really knowing where you are, or what time or day it is, and you just don't care.”
I nodded. I kind of got that.
“So Doctor Dale took the opportunity to ...how did he put it?.... 'sequester' things. He packed everything away, gluing everything into place so you could still ….relieve yourself.... only now it would come from the same spot as a woman's urethra. And he took all that dangling skin and with more glue and origami, fashioned a very convincing labia and apparent vagina.”
“And I was conscious for all of this?”
“Yes. You kept bugging him to not forget the camel toe and laughing hysterically.”
“How can I not remember any of this?”
“Well, the great thing about this drug is that when it wears off, so do the memories. Like waking from a dream.”
“Hell of a dream! And how could I not have even noticed until now???”
“More of Dr Dale's brilliant plan. While you were sort of under, and getting your relaxing massage, we also brought in another specialist. A hypnotherapist.”
“What, like one of those stage hypnotists that makes you think you're a chicken?”
“No. No. He's an accredited hypnotherapist. Does a lot of work with trauma victims and PTSD cases. He got our CFO to stop smoking. And yes, he does work at the Magic House in Beverly Hills as a hobby. ….and I think I actually have seen him make someone think they were a chicken....” He laughed at the thought then refocused. “You were given a suggestion that you wouldn't notice it was gone, and if you did notice, it would be perfectly fine, because you were being Katherine now and there was certainly no place for that organ. So you would just shrug, accept it and put it out of your mind.”
“Mission accomplished!” I spat “You might have consulted with me first!”
“We did. You were fine with it.”
“I was drugged!”
“You were lucid and responsive. Just.... uninhibited. You embraced the idea as a way to make it much easier to be a more convincing Katherine.”
“I did?”
He nodded. I guess if I had someone to be angry with, it was my own self conscious.
“Well, now that I know, how do I stop thinking about it?”
“Just stop thinking about it. It will ….recede ...no pun intended” he smirked “and soon you will forget we had this conversation and that anything is not the way it always was... the way it's supposed to be. It's all part of the post-hypnotic suggestion. Remember, the point was to help you let go and not be self conscious. Makes it easier to just BE Katherine.”
I couldn't argue with that. Or I didn't want to. So I sort of changed the subject to our original conversation.
“So I could go through security scanners without raising any eyebrows?”
“You're not planning on running away on me are you?” he laughed. “Yeah. I'm pretty sure you'd be fine. Everything's inside, so nothing's dangling where it shouldn't be. Besides, Katherine's gone through enough scanners, they already know she's 60 percent silicone.” He laughed.
I laughed too, but not at Katherine. I was lugging around the same silicone hip pads, and booty rounders, and jiggling C-cups that she routinely did. So I was having a good laugh at myself.
I got back to my hotel and ordered a cobb salad and carrot juice from room service. I wandered around the room, chatted with Mikey on the phone. Dennis had taken him under his wing and he was learning all about being a Keller minion. AND grilling poor Dennis for hot gossip and tawdry tales. I told him about the ADR session and he was fascinated. After all his questions and comments, it was beginning to seem more interesting and glamorous than it actually was. When he asked what I was going to do on my night off, I told him honestly that I was going to take a relaxing bath and get a good night's rest, knowing I had another grueling day of ADR ahead of me, then a night flight to New York where we'd meet up and begin the press blitz. I told him I didn't know when I was going to get another chance to rest and charge the batteries, so I was going to seize this one. He was very disappointed.
“I thought you were committed to this LC! To being Katherine. Is that what she would do? Or would she put on something fabulous and hit the town, ready to do something scandalous?”
“I'm sure she would. Which may be why she is where she is, and I am sitting in her suite, eating her dinner, and preparing to get a good night's rest before going off tomorrow to do her job.”
Mikey grumbled. I could sense his disappointment. I was still acting the responsible chaperone.
“Well, at least walk out onto the balcony in an open robe with an empty bottle of Kristal and flash the paparazzi!” he laughed.
“Oh, you'd love THAT, wouldn't you? You little perv!” I kidded.
“Ha ha, Yeah. That'd be.. Oh, shit. That'd be disastrous! Ohmigod LC!”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “Don't worry. Not gonna happen. Still. Wouldn't be the end of the world.”
“No! It would. It would be scandalous. And not in a good way!”
“Well, I know what you're thinking. It would certainly get Katherine a lot more press attention. But don't worry. It's not going to happen.”
“Be very very careful LC. Those paparazzi are really sneaky. Let your guard down for just a moment....”
“I get it. And don't worry. And what makes you think they're not listening in on our call?”
“oh. Fuck! I never... oh, shit LC... I mean Katherine. Umm... Ms Keller... Ma'am...”
I had to laugh. “Take off your tinfoil hat. Now look at your phone. I'm skype-ing you. Not a regular phonecall. Much harder to intercept. Not that I think they are even trying. But, yes, I AM being careful. So stop worrying. OK?”
He exhaled loudly. “OK. L... I mean... Katherine.”
“See you in New York in a day.”
“You bet. ...Katherine?”
“Yes?”
“Love you.”
That threw me. I didn't know whether he was talking to me as a cousin who took him halfway around the world to have an adventure that blossomed into something beyond his wildest dreams, or whether he was actually addressing me as Katherine, for whom I assume he had a serious fanboy obsession.
“I know. 'Night cuz....” and I clicked off.
I was padding around Katherine's suite, reading some magazines and listening to a chill station on my iPhone.
I was just wearing some skinny jeans and an oversized cowl neck wool tunic which was warm and comfy, and some really heavy boot socks which were as cozy as slippers.
I realized that Mikey had been right about a patio, and wondered if all stars' hotel rooms had patios. I slid open the door and savored the slight chill and the taste of the night air. I heard a faint commotion down below and caught scrambling shadows and the faint sound of cameras. Then a distant flash. I leaned over the railing and yelled down. “Flash won't work. Too far away. Just betrays your position. Are you new or something? Fellas, explain it to him, will you?” I heard faint laughing and murmuring from down below. “Seriously guys? Are you going to be here all night? I'm staying in, so you can take the night off. I promise not to rape a bellboy on the patio or dangle a baby over the rail until you get back and we have better light.” More distant laughing. “Seriously. Take the night off. Go home to your wives and families. ….or treat yourself to a hooker. I don't care. I won't be stalking YOU!” a little more laughter and more murmuring. “OK. Suit yourself. But you're in for a long dull night. Goodnight boys.” And I wandered back into my room and called room service, asking them to send someone out to the parking lot below my patio and take everybody's coffee orders and charge it to my room. Maybe Katherine was distant and hostile to the press, but that hadn't seemed to work so well. I didn't think I could win them over, but at least I could mess with them. And buying them coffees to keep them awake all boring night seemed like a good start.
I was up with the sun and feeling refreshed. There was a real chill in the air. I guess I never thought of LA as cold, but at the crack of dawn, it was pretty brisk and misty. I had an egg white omelet and tomato juice sent to my room, and got dressed for a morning run. I don't think Katherine had ever used her workout wear, but she had a closet full of them, and as I found out that first day's jog into Monterrey, they were comfortable and flattering. I tucked my iPhone into my jacket sleeve and my room key into a slim pocket inside my running tights and made my way to a service elevator. I had studied the area around the hotel on my maps app, so I had a clear idea of my running route. I slipped out the side entrance and made my way to the parking lot under my patio. The car windows were all foggy with dew, but it wasn't too hard to see which ones had snoozing silhouettes in reclined seats. I padded quietly up to one and loudly drummed on the hood.
“Rise and shine boys! Daylight's wasting! Hey. Isn't loitering illegal? Should somebody call the cops?” I think I gave the poor bastard in the car I randomly picked a heart attack. But soon everyone was scrambling to wipe the fog off their lenses and grab their cameras.
“Sorry guys. I'm not going to stand around waiting for my photo op. You'll have to be faster than that!” I smiled wickedly and spun around to begin my run. I heard the scrambling behind me and everyone trying to start their cold damp car engines. I guess paparazzi doesn't pay as well as I thought, because every one of these guys was driving what back home they'd call 'a shitbox'. I got a lot farther than I'd planned when they finally caught up to me in their cars. I was wondering how long it would take them to notice that I was running out the entrance ramp to the hotel and onto the adjoining one-way street ….against the flow of traffic. It was really early, and they had just been startled awake, so I guess it took them longer than usual to notice they were chasing me the wrong way down a one way street. It might have also helped that at this hour, the street was empty. Except for the cop. I heard the chirp of his siren behind me and smiled as the three cars that were pursuing me were pulled over. That was unexpected, but delicious. Some of the brighter guys went the long way around and headed me off at the next block. I had kind of expected this. I took this route because it bordered on a park, which was pretty much deserted except for a few sleeping homeless guys. I managed to tread lightly and didn't even wake them, but the clown posse behind me scared the hell out of them, and I think there was a bit of trouble. I don't know if they paid them off or what, but eventually they broke free of the group of angry vagrants. Of course by that time I was watching this from a distant hill about a quarter mile away. There was no way they were going to catch up with me on foot, and once I crested the hill, they would have no way of knowing which direction I broke. This kind of reminded me of evading bullies as a kid, only this was actually fun. It was my chase on my terms. And instead of feeling like a rabbit, I felt more like a fox.
My reverie was short lived as I came down the hill and saw a guy with a camera running toward me. He was clever. He circled around to the other side of the park and guessed that I might do just what I did. I broke for a running path along side a pond and he veered in my direction. This guy was fast. But then again, so was I. I grinned and thought 'let's see how fast he really is'.
He was really, really fast. I might have been able to pour it on and ditch him, but then I'd be totally spent, and he may have been able to match my desperate burst. This guy was really good. I needed a plan B. So I backed off a bit and let him catch up with me, still keeping a very brisk pace and passing other runners like tractors on a highway.
“You have me at a disadvantage” he gasped while he pulled up beside me. “I'm not exactly dressed for a run.”
“So don't run. There are some nice benches up there.”
“Really? You'll stop?”
“Hell, no. I came to run. And I came properly dressed!” I smiled and picked up the pace just a little.
He smiled. Or it might have been a wince. And kept pace with me.
“You really should stop and rest. Besides, you're going to bruise something awful from that camera. I hope it's shockproof.” I smiled.
He nodded and smiled back, beginning to pant now. “At least I took off the flash unit.” he grinned.
“That was YOU?” I laughed. “So how long have you been stalking stars?”
“Kind of new in town. Heard magazines pay crazy for these photos. Thousands. Seemed better than waiting tables.”
“Thousands huh? Well, you're earning it!” I smiled and put on even more speed.
“And way more interesting than landscaping or working in a car wash.”
“Oh. WAY more interesting. Like sleeping in your car all night in a cold hotel parking lot.”
“Like jogging with starlets at five thirty in the morning.”
“Jogging? Katherine Keller does not JOG!” I pressed my hand to my chest in mock offense. “I ….RUN!” and I broke left cutting in front of him and pouring on the speed onto what looked more like a mountain bike path than a running trail.
“Oh Christ!” I heard him laugh as he scrambled to follow me. I couldn't keep up this pace forever, I was really running all out and dodging rocks and ruts along the course. One of us was going to break a leg at this speed. So I pulled back a bit and got back to a sustainable stride. He quickly caught back up to me laughing.
“Why are you still chasing me? I'm not going to stop, and you're not going to get your photo. Even if you did... if you could stop panting long enough to get a steady shot, what are you going to sell? Breaking news – Katherine Keller sweats? Katherine Keller jogs?”
“I thought you didn't jog.”
“Yeah, well the press gets everything wrong” I teased.
He laughed. “I don't know. You bolted back there. I followed. I'm not even sure why anymore. But I'm not stopping!”
“Greyhound and rabbit” I muttered.
“Fox and hound” he replied.
“Are you calling yourself a hound?”
He grinned. “Maybe I'm calling YOU a fox!”
I tried to keep a straight face, but I'm not sure I succeeded.
We ran another quarter mile or so without talking. He was keeping up with me, but I got the sense that he was ready to fade.
“Can I get a truce?” I gasped to him. We were both pretty winded and panting hard.
“A juice?”
“TRUCE!”
He nodded and we both pulled back to a slow jog.
“Actually a juice sounds really good too.” I smiled. He nodded. I scowled. “DAMMIT!”
“What?”
“I keep DOING this! All I have on me is my phone and room key.”
“On me.” he said.
“What's the catch? You want me to bitch-slap a barista so you can get a picture? Maybe steal candy from a baby?”
“That'd be great. Any of it. But really all I want is for you not to tell the others how you led me on a merry chase and I still didn't get a shot.”
“Not yet.” I grinned. “Tell you what. We'll call a truce for today, and in exchange for you buying a lady a ginger echinacea smoothie, I promise you a saleable shot at a future date.”
“Deal” he smiled. As we slowed to a walk, still breathing hard, he looked around and frowned. “Where the hell ARE we?”
Miles from his car. Griffith Park is a sprawling place.
I used my phone to find a smoothie place and we made off in that direction. He nearly hobbled and I got a good look at his boots. Definitely not made for running. I was even more impressed at how well he kept up.
“So, did you come to LA to be a paparazzo? Or did you just figure you'd stalk celebrities until your big break and become a stalk-ee?” I asked as we sipped our smoothies and caught our second wind.
“Actually, I'm here for school. Starting UCLA in the fall. Wanted to get to town early and I figured better to spend the summer in LA than back home in Missoula.”
“Montana.” I nodded.
“You know it?”
“Only from the movies...and TV seems ….desolate.”
He winced. “Not really that bad. There are a lot of nice people there. But still... Yeah. ….There's.... anyway, I hear the surf's WAY better in LA.” He laughed.
“SO... UCLA? Impressive. Major?”
“Looking to do the pre-med track.”
“Going to go back home and be a vet?”
He shook his head vehemently.
“Going to stay here and be a plastic surgeon? This town could always use another boob and ass man.” I smiled.
He laughed. “Not planning on it. Thinking of psychology.”
“Another growing field in this town. Hell, you should observe your colleagues and do a thesis on the psychology of mobs.” I kidded.
“Don't think I haven't thought about it. Very interesting group dynamic there. Actually, I'm really interested in the psychology of trauma survivors. People who have had near death experiences... plane crashes, genocide survivors, civilians in war zones, innocent bystanders in gang killings, abductees... former cult members.... that sort of thing.”
“Wow.” I was at a loss for words.
“You'd be surprised how many compounds there are on the barren northern plains. A lot of folks go there to live life by their own rules. with no one looking over their shoulder and they drag their families along too. Lots of collateral damage.” He seemed lost in thought.
“So. UCLA. Wow.” I tried to lighten the mood. “What made you pick California?”
He smiled sheepishly. “They sorta picked me. Track Scholarship.”
I laughed so loud everyone turned to look at us. I put my head down and muttered “Sorry!” Then I turned to my companion and whispered. “Shit! And I tried to outrun you? THAT was a brilliant plan!”
He laughed. “Well. There were 9 of us in the hotel lot. And you lost eight. I'd say it was a pretty good plan.”
“Not good enough.” I lamented.
“I'd say perfect.” As he reached out and grabbed my hand.
I retrieved my hand and finished my smoothie. Looking over my straw at him regarding me.
“Sorry. You're not going to charm your way into this starlet's stretchpants and get steamy afterglow photos to peddle for big bucks” I teased. His face fell.
“Oh, Jesus. That wasn't what I.... I mean, we just met... and you're... well... YOU.... and I'm just....”
“By the WAY....” I can't believe it took this long for me to notice I didn't even know. “....who the hell ARE you?”
He grinned. I think he was as amazed as I was that we'd gone this far without proper introductions.
“Matt. Matt Cutler.” and he reflexively held out his hand.
“Katherine. Katherine Keller.” I grinned back as I took his hand and shook.
He made a kind of snorting sound.
“What?”
“Oh. Sorry. You were just so formal. The way you introduced yourself. And it got me to thinking.... just reminded me... um...” he ran out of steam.
“Reminded you of what?”
“Nothing. Nevermind.”
“You can't just 'nothing, nevermind' me after that. What?”
“Well, when you said your name out loud. I mean I already know it of course. But just hearing it out loud... the way you said it. It reminded me...”
“Yessss....?”
“Of your nickname. I mean what the other guys call you.”
“Oh. And that is?.....”
“Katherine Yeller ...or Katherine the Terrible” he admitted sheepishly.
“I see” I smiled. “Is that for my ...people skills... or my acting ability?”
He just went crimson.
“Well, this may not come as a shock to you, but I'm working very hard to change my image”
He smiled.
“I hope with time and effort to become Katherine the Merely Horrible”
And I made beet smoothie come out of his nose.
We were getting really dirty looks from the people at the smoothie bar, so we skulked away and walked back to Matt's car. He was gentleman enough to give me a lift to a few blocks from the hotel, where I ran back the rest of the way and jogged right up to the remaining five photographers.
“Missed a great run boys. If you're working for Self or Fitness, you missed some great photo ops. Otherwise, not much. What's the point of being scandalous if there's no one to see?” I shot them a wink and a wave and went back up to my suite to shower and prepare for another day of sitting on my behind redubbing Katherine Keller.
Day two of ADR went much faster, and we were done in time for me to dash back to my hotel and grab a 2 hour nap before dinner with Dez and some studio execs.
In the ladies room at Nagoya - the Pan-Asian fusion place, I was cornered by Lena one of our executive producers.
“OK. Out with it Katherine. What the hell is going on?”
I looked at her blankly. “What?” I could think of a number of answers, but first I'd need a more specific question.
“Don't give me that look. What's going on with you? Are you on new meds? Are you off your meds? What the hell is UP with you?”
“God. You're starting to sound like the tabloids. Are you secretly moonlighting for TMZ?” I smiled.
“Cut the shit Kat. This is me for chrissakes! What the hell is up with you?”
I sighed. I was going to have to think fast to come up with something to get this woman off my ...off Katherine's... case.
“It's just...." I let out a heavy sigh "...I don't know... with the stress of filming.... and the anxiety of the premiere.... and all the trouble with the police and those people over my....”
“...Boxter... yeah yeah. I get it. Lots of stress. Lots of pressure. Same old same old.”
“So....” I let it hang there, hoping she would complete my thought and bail me out. I was pretty much ready to agree with whatever explanation she came up with. No such luck.
“...SO????”
Aw, crap.
“....SO.... I.... just.... snapped.... I dunno. Call it a midlife crisis.....”
“You're 24” she scowled.
“I plan to die young.” I shrugged. “So. Yeah. I just decided..... 'fuck it'”
“Fuck it?” she glared at me.
I shrugged. “fuck it.” I repeated. Totally monotone. Like a mantra.
“Fuck it!” she howled as two more ladies started to come into the restroom and quickly turned around. “FUCK IT! ...oh my God, you're certifiable! Midlife crisis??? I don't think the world can take another 24 years of you! Jesus, Katherine. You're priceless. ….Fuck it.....” she was still convulsing with laughter as she left the ladies room. I wasn't sure exactly what had just happened, but I breathed a sigh of relief and thought 'so... that went well'.
As I rejoined our party at the table I saw Lena smirking at me and everyone else seemed visibly more relaxed. I don't know what she said to them, but I felt it was a good thing.
“So, you're off to New York for ...what is it... Today? GMA?...”
“I think it's Get The Hell Up New York” I quipped.
The laughter was a bit too loud and fast. Did I make a joke or was I the joke? Whatever. I plowed on.
“Doesn't really matter. Kathy Lee and Hoda, Robin and George, Charlie and ...whoever.... we'll all be there happy shiny, perky as hell and pimp the crap out of this thing. We'll get them so worked up that they'll have to buy a ticket just to see for themselves what all the fuss is about. We'll sing our hearts out, dance our butts off... we'll charm the pants off of them.... and once their pants are off, we'll....”
“Okay! OK. OK.... I think they get the idea Katherine...” Dez interrupted just in time.
I shot him a glance, like 'too much?'... he just smiled and relaxed a little. I think maybe I had even HIM going, but he was back on board.
“Jesus Katherine!” Jonah, the studio guy said. “I don't know whether what I just witnessed was madness or genius!”
“Could it be both?” I smiled enigmatically.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh God. We're about to throw a wild ferret into a convent. Desmond, are you sure you can ….handle her?...” he said, looking at me with a mixture of intrigue and fear.
Dez nodded. “Reasonably sure. Leave everything to me.”
I toned down the crazy for the rest of the dinner, but remained engaged in the conversation, offering comments and opinions that seemed to be taken seriously by everyone. My plan was to let them see the crazy, then let them see the sane, wondering if the crazy was just an act, but knowing that it was an act that would get the country's attention.
Our New York interview seemed to go well. I kept the crazy reasonably toned down. In fact I scaled it back to just one bit. Whenever one of our cast would talk about the film, I would interrupt with a near-hysterical shriek of “Spoiler Alert!!!” initially explaining that I learned from the internet that superfans did not want any spoilers and I did not want to upset the internet. So whenever anyone would say anything about the movie... for example, when Eoin was talking about how he felt about shooting in Canada and Mexico instead of Australia, I would yell “Spoiler Alert! The internet doesn't want to know where it was filmed! They want to look for landscapes and rock formations and find them on Google Earth themselves.... then they can tell the rest of the internet where the movie was really filmed!” I kept pushing it, making more absurd excuses for what could be considered spoilers. Pretty soon the whole cast and the interviewers were getting very silly and cracking themselves up. Whenever anyone would start to say something, they'd look to me waiting for me to interrupt. I would just sit there primly. Hands in lap. Serene smile on my face. Returning their look impassively. As they would return their attention to the host and go into their answer I would wait for what I judged to be the most banal thing, and shriek “Spoiler Alert!!!”
The interview devolved into something surreal, but I knew it was something people were calling their friends to watch, because I was seeing it happen on the set itself. We started with the regular floor crew, but people kept coming in and lingering, and more and more started crowding the floor behind the cameras. I saw some of the talent from other shows whom I recognized as well as lots of folks I presumed to be technical and office staff from other shows in the building starting to crowd the floor. They all knew to be quiet on the set, but soon we had a live audience and they couldn't contain themselves. The whole interview devolved into a kind of dada experience, but I have no doubt it got everyone talking. I think my favorite moment was when Eoin and I were performing a number from the film, very poignant and romantic.... when Eoin got to the part where he gently touched his fingers under my chin, turning me to face him and tenderly crooned “Meggie, my sweet Meggie... you are...” I shrieked “Spoiler Alert” and Eoin completely lost it and collapsed on the floor. I actually thought he might soil himself he was laughing so hard. I managed through sheer force of will, to keep a poker face and stared right into the camera and shrugged “....wouldn't want to spoil the movie....” I said sheepishly.
Our number was supposed to be about 2 minutes long, but I derailed him about thirty seconds in. Our hosts had taken a break while we did our song and dance. I burned about another 30 up until my 'spoil the movie' line. I could see the frantic scrambling going on behind the cameras. This was unexpected and people were freaking. This kind of thing didn't happen on live TV. Which is why I knew we were doing it just right. Most of the visitors to the set were doubled over in laughter while the camera crew and floor manager were trying frantically to improvise coverage. There were a lot of swooping blurry camera shots while they tried to keep it professional on the fly. I caught the director's eye and nodded. I think he got it, or guessed it, because he put the camera on me as I walked over to Eoin, who was still a convulsing heap on the floor. I bent down, pretended to take his pulse, frowned, then reached down to take his face, which he had turned to the floor away from the cameras. He was laughing so hard his face was beet red and wet with tears... I looked down at him with mock concern like some sort of soap opera doctor, when I turned his head to face me, he just erupted in another round of uncontrollable laughter. I dropped his head distractedly and heard it conk off the floor, and his maniacal laughter even as he winced from the impact, I scanned the area around the set and made as if I was peering into the room behind the cameras... I really milked this pantomime as long as I could, stealing glances at the clock on the wall, about a minute forty five in, I bolted upright and yelled to the studio floor “Can I get some Depends here???” Eoin howled hysterically and pulled himself even tighter into a fetal position. All the while I was watching the clock. A minute fifty. Fifty one. Fifty two. Fifty three. I bellowed “STAT!!!” Eoin shrieked and convulsed. I remained serious and mock concerned and mouthed to the camera “Just see the movie”
“.....ANNND we're clear!” The floor director yelled.
The host stormed up to me and said angrily “What the hell was THAT???”
I just smiled calmly and said quietly “Trust me it was way more entertaining than our song”
“You should have told us beforehand! For God's sake, this is live network TV, coast to coast!”
“First.” I said calmly. “How could I tell you? Would this have worked if anyone knew it was coming?” I pointed to poor Eoin who was just now beginning to regain his composure. “Look. He's a good actor, but do you think we would have gotten this....” when I pointed at him he started laughing again and had to turn away “...if he had known? Second. The program is only live in the eastern and central time zones. Do you think the powers that be will cut that from the west coast feed? I'd bet money they won't. In fact I'm sure that by the time the west coast feed airs, your numbers will be through the roof because the net will have had three hours to talk and everyone will be waiting to dvr it. Did I get people talking about our film? I think so. Did I get people talking about our interview? Will people be flocking to watch your west coast feed and the inevitable clips on the network's website? You tell me.”
She grumbled. “You really should have cleared it with us first....”
“Wouldn't have worked.”
She made a face like she was chewing gravel. “I don't know whether you're nuts or brilliant.”
“Does it matter?” I replied blankly. I give great pokerface.
She just twisted her mouth and walked off.
I apologized to Eion, but he took it very good naturedly and admitted that it would definitely not have worked if he remotely suspected what was coming. He said the utter absurdity of the situation and the panic that he lost complete control on live network television made a kind of runaway chain reaction that he just couldn't stop. He knew that no matter what he did in the rest of his life, when they ran his obit on the network news or ET or whatever, the clip of this morning's show would be among the compilation, and he was ok with that.
“Dammit Katherine. You have a knack for making a scene. That near-rape at the restaurant, and this live chaos on network TV....” He chuckled.
“Without the 'Show' it would just be ….business....” I shrugged.
He shook his head and chortled.
Well, as hoped, the clip went viral. It got a lot of play on the evening shows and local news, a few hundred thousand hits on you tube, and it really raised the bar everywhere else we went. A lot of places refused to put us on live insisting on pre-records or 30 second delays. Those were the venues where I mocked the hosts and producers and stations subtly but mercilessly. They seemed to think they were being complimented, but when they watched the playback ...or saw the clip on you tube... they saw how I was utterly ridiculing their timidity and banality. What can I say? I watched a lot of Ricky Gervais as a kid and I learned from the master. The end result was that people were talking about our movie. Actually, they were talking about me, but I took every opportunity to make it about the movie.
Box office was strong. I think it was stronger than many had expected. I was confronted by a passive aggressive morning host who said the meanest things through her perky permasmile. She asked me about the rumors that the movie had really been made because the film studio's corporate parent actually needed a tax write off to counterbalance its exceedingly profitable military weapons division, and that was why they hired Dez who was renowned for his over-budget lavish flops, and brought in me.... legendary in the industry as 'Katherine the Terrible” because I couldn't act my way to land a role in a third grade play at a special needs school, and could have only achieved my celebrity status by my legendary sexual escapades, obviously implying that I slept and or blackmailed my way to the top.
I just smiled and publicly apologized to the film studio and their corporate parent if in fact this local TV station indeed scooped all the national and international press at discovering their true plan for our film and my unwitting role in accidentally making it a box office smash. I offered to make it up to them by volunteering to write and direct – free of charge “A.M. Waukesha – the motion picture” starring the original cast. That should solve their tax dilemma, I smiled sweetly. This was one of those stations that ran us on 30 second delay, but I took so long with the setup that even if they cut the punchline, the joke would write itself. I knew how to get around 30 second delay.
One program I did not have to worry about was SNL. Apparently the film was well on its way to cult status, and our TV appearances and you tube clips were making us ….and particularly Katherine, a hot commodity. And I was approached to host.
I didn't want to steal the limelight and told Dez as much. He just brushed it off and said I always made my appearances good promotion for the movie. So I took a week off the press tour and moved to New York.
It was an intense week. On my first meeting with the writers I made it absolutely clear that nothing was off limits. We played off the 'off her meds' sketch by doing a united states of tara/game of thrones mashup where I played all the feuding royals: Katherine the Terrible, Katherine the Horrible, Katherine the Miserable etc as multiple personalities of the host persona Katherine the Unstable. We did a spoof of our film called The Thornbergs with music numbers like Fiddler on the Roof, we did a sketch about a washed up supermodel placement service where we got people jobs in stores that couldn't afford real mannequins or failing that, we got them leads in Dez Lehmann movies. We did a sketch playing on my size, where I was an alien sent down to infiltrate earth but they got the proportions wrong, so I caused panic everywhere I went. They even did a sketch about filming a bogus Katherine Keller superhero action flick where my superhero identity was 'Cameltoe' but they cut that one, ostensibly for time. I really think we crossed a line with the network censors there, but I wasn't offended by it. I figured facing the rumors head on and lampooning them was the easiest way to dispel them.
It was a great week. And grueling. I asked for, and got a few days off from Dez. The studio was quite happy about the buzz from SNL and was more than willing to give me a few days off from doing Rise 'N Shine Sheboygan or whatever to rest up.
Doctor Dale showed up with more shots, as he did every few weeks. Mikey and Eoin showed up and we hung out and did the town. Mikey wanted to see Broadway and Times Square, which Eoin – as a longtime fixture of New York musical theater - was more than happy to oblige. Eoin suggested that I should show Mikey the fashion district since that was my old haunt. I hid my panic attack, but got Dennis to call in a favor from an old friend of his who worked at Conde Nast to give the tour. Mikey got the grand tour and it didn't seem that awkward since Katherine had alienated everyone she ever worked with and no one wanted anything to do with her, which included entertaining one of her minions.
One evening Eoin, Mikey and I went to a gay club they wanted to hit. This club had a drag show, and wouldn't you know, one of the headliners was a Katherine Keller impersonator - which they already knew and neglected to tell me. They got us seats right near the stage and thought it would be hilarious when I saw this impersonator doing me. Maybe Mikey forgot the irony that I was in fact the ultimate Katherine Keller impersonator.
Well, this impersonator who went by Terri Bella was very good. She did a deliriously over-the-top Katherine Keller, doing bits from the SNL sketches, various You Tube clips and even one of the more flamboyant numbers from Thornbirds. Apparently it was her schtick to lure an audience member onstage to do the duet with her. I nearly badgered Eion who was dressed down in mom jeans and a hoodie to volunteer. Mikey and I both pressured the poor guy. Mikey put his souvenir Yankees cap on Eion and he was pretty schlubby looking. Sure enough, Mikey managed to get the performer's attention and screamed, 'my uncle, my uncle! Do my uncle!' Eoin was genuinely mortified at Mikeys act and I think it was his deep blush that finally got her to pick him. She was camping it up, and he was looking very shy, which I don't think was entirely an act. She started doing a lewd stripping act as she was serenading him, slowly pulling down the zipper of his hoodie, then provocatively peeling down the sleeves, just as she finished her part and handed him the mic, she took off his cap and threw it to Mikey who grinned. She mussed up his hair and got a good look at him just as he stepped into the light and began to sing his part. The crowd erupted in laughter, thinking the volunteer thing was just part of the act and that he was an Eoin Maclure Impersonator. Terri Bella seemed stunned. Was someone messing with her? This guy wasn't even looking at the prompter, he knew the lyrics. She joined him for the duet at the end, then he leaned her over at the finale, swept her into a deep dip and planted a huge one on her. This time, I noticed with amusement, his mouth was wide open.
The crowd went wild, both took a deep stage bow, and she walked him back to his seat stageside, still visibly shaking. As he sat down, she said “Did you already know.... has anybody ever told you that you bear a striking resemblance to Eoin Maclure? “
That was when I chose to look up from my menu and smile at her. “Actually he gets that all the time. Don't you dear?” And Eoin smiled at me and nodded.
I thought she was going to lose bowel control right there on the stage.
I reached out and stuck a fifty in her G string
“You really are amazing.” I beamed. “I haven't had so much fun in, oh, I don't know....” I turned to Eoin.
“...ever?” he volunteered. I nodded vigorously.
“Ever.”
She still just stood there wide eyed.
“Look honey, I know you have to get back to work... but I just wanted to say you are really breathtaking, and amazingly talented. ….If I do say so myself.” I laughed “Thanks for making my night. I've never been more ….flattered.”
This gave me a wicked, wicked idea. I mentioned it to Eoin and he was all for it. But getting it by Dez was a trickier manouver.
Surprisingly, when I told him of my 'guerilla-promotions' scheme he just smiled and shook his head. “Katherine is going to do whatever Katherine is going to do. You have THAT aspect of her down cold. But crazy disguises and crashing open mic nights at local bars in whatever city we're in to do numbers from the film? That's pure YOU Elsie!” He smiled, then he held his hands up “Katherine will not be stopped anyway, and she's not failed to surprise the studio with her antics on this press tour. But I can know nothing of this. We never talked. You just went off on your own as usual, and this time dragged poor Eoin along with you. He'll be safe from the studio's wrath because everyone knows he's no match for you in a disagreement, so he was dragged along against his will. And YOU will be safe because everyone knows by now that you're crazy. And you're making the studio piles and piles of money. So go. Leave me out of this and I will only know what I read in the blogs. And I know I will be reading a lot.” he grinned.
So when we hit Atlanta on our press tour and I got all sorts of angry press by declaring Thornbirds to be just like Gone With the Wind only with music and dance numbers and no war and more sheep and priests and ...actually nothing like Gone with the Wind except that like Atlanta, we were on FIRE! ...Hmm, still a touchy subject. But it got people to talking. And I knew my Sherman joke would be forgotten long before our film was.
That evening we put 'operation stealth plug' into action. We really had to get a better name for it. Mikey was working the web while we were doing our morning interviews and by mid-afternoon he had all our supplies. Dressed in Walmart's finest and looking like a shlubby farmer out for a night on the town with his scarecrow, we hit open mic night at a local drag club and got our name on the list. The talent lineup was ...varied... but I had to clap for everyone who fought off stage fright and got up before the often catty crowd. There had already been a couple of Katherine Keller impersonators, apparently that was becoming a thing. No real surprise since it was an easy stretch for a gangly scrawny boy, as I should know. I was a bit anxious at how we'd do our number and I'd play things down.
We handed our CD to the guy in the soundbooth. It was 'You Bastard. Your Bastard' only we asked our music director Kirk to do it on some home Korg and Casio keyboards like budget Karaoke, and he gleefully sent us an MP3 within a day. It sounded like home made music, but recognizable.
When the music came on, we had our backs to the stage and still appeared to be undressing. Eoin dropped his Carhart jacket and Braves cap and turned to face the audience in his Priest's garb and began to sing to delighted applause.. I hurriedly scampered after him onto the stage still struggling and managed to drop my cargo pants down to my ankles as I shuffled behind him as if shackled. I shook out of one leg and kicked the trousers into the audience with the other. This brought a howl from the audience. I hoped whoever caught them would eventually notice – after I never came to reclaim them, that there were a dozen free screening passes in the pocket. So the pants were gone, and maybe they had already noticed my shiny black tights and stilettos, but I think they were all distracted by my epic struggle with my long duster-style barncoat, which after nervously fumbling the buttons, I just pulled up and over my head, knocking off my stars and bars truckers cap and shaking my hair free.
The audience let out a roar as I finished walking up to Eoin just in time for him to toss me my mic and I started singing MY part. Only I sang it with the bizarre accent that Katherine had originally used in the film. I caught Eoin's expression and knew he got the joke, even if everyone else in the place thought it was a nervous hometown drag queen struggling to do an Aussie accent. I belted out the part, really going over the top. Very exaggerated moves, but I figured that was just what this performer would do on stage. Make it GRAND. The crowd had simmered down from my original reveal and were really getting into it when we got to the point in the number where 'Father Dad' as I'd taken to calling him, admits his failed struggle to remain chaste and confesses his undying love. Only in our version, we made it more ...carnal, thanks to a breakaway priest costume (who knew they made such things? My cousin Mikey apparently) and a leather G-string. And the crowd went absolutely beserk! Eoin was surprisingly buff and I caught myself thinking, 'Yeah. Katherine would hit that.' But I quickly refocused on our big finish, where Eoin swept me into his very sweaty – and I hoped not too slippery – arms for a deep dip and torrid (Hollywood) kiss.
The lights came up and we did a little bow, then I did a mock curtsey – it seemed appropriate... and we gathered our stuff off the floor as we left the stage to a still-roaring crowd. We exchanged grins as we passed the next girl waiting to go on, who just glared at us
“How the fuck am I supposed to follow THAT???”
“Sorry” I peeped and shrugged.
“I'm not.” gloated Eoin as he made his way back into the club still in his G-string and holding his balled up clothes.
“'mission accomplished'!” I nodded to Eoin as I put my duster back on over my stage clothes and tucked the cap into the pocket. He grinned broadly as I asked the bartender if someone could call us a cab.
“Don't you want to find out how you did?” The bartender asked, with a big grin on his face. “I sure do.”
I shook my head. “I'm suddenly feeling ….really exposed” I said as I shivered slightly. He just nodded and smiled. I'm sure he was thinking 'first timer'. He called a cab and told us it would be here in about five minutes.
Which we spent chatting with the crowd that had gathered around us. When we had to give our names for the open mic competition, we looked at each other blankly. How could neither of us have thought of this. Fortunately, panic makes me resourceful.
“Tucker. Tucker Donaldson.” I said nodding towards Eoin “And I'm Dale. Dale Birch.” I especially liked that because Dale was kind of gender neutral. It could be Earnhardt or Evans. I was feeling quite proud of my fast reflexes – if not my originality.
“Tucker and Dale? Where the hell did you come up with that?” Eoin whispered.
I shrugged. “I panicked. I just thought of a movie I was watching on Netflix back at the hotel. Seemed like good, Georgia names.”
He furrowed his brow a moment, then broke into a grin. “Yeah. It does. Dammit Ka... I mean Dale... just when I think you can no longer surprise me....”
So we were Dale and Tucker, two first timers who saw the movie and knew that we simply had to do this number at the next open mic night. The crowd bought it 100%. Folks who had seen the movie complimented us, and those who hadn't were now determined to see it first thing.
“But be warned...” I laughed “In the movie, he doesn't have a breakaway uniform!”
“I'll bet Lehmann will be kicking himself that he hadn't thought of that!” one of the crowd guffawed.
'Yeah. I think so too', I smiled to myself.
The cab came and Eoin told me to head off and he would catch up. He was having way too much fun and was determined to make the most of it.
I quietly got back to the hotel, feeling a bit like Carmen Sandiego sneaking around in the long coat.
I was already asleep when Mikey called the room.
“Back so soon? What the hell, Katherine?” I had to give him credit. He was completely committed to my Katherine role and he never accidentally slipped. Even between the two of us.
“I headed back early. Need my rest. Eoin stayed behind.” I think he heard the twinkle in my voice.
“Dammit, I wish I could have been there. Couldn't anyone from the studio make me a fake ID? I bet they can do anything they put their mind to.”
“Look, it's only a few more months, then you can hang out in bars.”
“Not here. It's 21 in the states.”
“Oh, yeah. ...well, that just means your liver will hold out a few extra years. You're not missing anything much.”
“I missed your open mic!”
“Oh yeah. So, do you want to hear how it went?”
“I already know! You don't have to be 21 to use Twitter!”
I shrugged to myself, but Mikey asked me for a detailed account anyway. Either to be nice to me, or to get it from my perspective. I did have a lot of details he hadn't gotten on social media.
“Oh...HO! I just found this instagram post. Wow. You look... different...”
“Kinda the point. Like an amateur, home made attempt to do Katherine Keller by some wannabe kid.”
“Well. It worked. But Eoin still mostly looks like Eoin ...with bad hair. And....HOLY SHIT! I know I helped you guys get the breakaway priest costume, but I just saw the instagram. Damn! He's RIPPED!”
“Yeah... Who knew?” I giggled. Wait, when did I start giggling?
“No wonder he wanted to stay.” Mikey laughed. “We'll be lucky if we see him by checkout time.”
“Oh christ!” I suddenly gasped, hand to my mouth. “He's worked SO hard to stay in the closet, even faking a romance with Katherine... and here I go and blow it all by dragging him out to a drag bar with my harebrained scheme!”
“Relax, Kat....” I felt him hesitate, using such a familiar name. Did he feel he'd crossed some line? “You're not the one blowing anything tonight.....” then he giggled. “I think this makes your plan even better!”
“How can THAT be.” I was still mortified that I'd outed Eoin.
“Well, I assume you didn't enter the contest as yourself.”
“No. Of course not.... we were Dale and Tucker.”
“I like it... so everyone at the bar thinks this hot guy Dale...”
“I was Dale, he was Tucker.”
“Funny. I would have taken YOU for the 'Tucker'”
I let out a sarcastic laugh.
“Anyway... this GUY Tucker.... though seriously cuz, you should have called him 'Packer' because after that instagram...”
“Yeah, yeah. Back on track, horndog. So I didn't out Eoin because...”
“Well. Everyone thinks he's this guy Tucker. And he looks a lot like Eoin. But he's ripped. And no one thinks of doughy old Eoin Mclure, star of all those period costume dramas and musicals as ripped. So this guy is a ripped stud who resembles a movie star. AND he's gay.... and walking around a drag bar in nothing but a leather G-string. …..I presume he didn't put his dorky farmer clothes back on...”
“How did you know?”
“Why would he? ….anyway... this guy looks kind of like a famous movie star, he's really buff, and he's really gay. Everyone knows Eoin and Katherine have a thing. One more thing that makes him definitely not Eoin. You didn't OUT him.” Mikey laughed. “...You got him LAID!”
I blushed deeply at the thought, but hoped Mikey was right. ...about me not outing Eoin. ...and I guess, the other. I had put that poor guy through so much hell on our press tour, if one of my zany stunts ended up with him actually getting lucky.... well, I owed him.
“Enough talk. It's getting late and we all need our sleep. Go to bed Mikey. Don't stay up all night surfing for porn.” I laughed.
“You're not my MOTHER!” he mock-protested. “Actually you're a lot like an annoying older sister.” he laughed.
“Go to bed young man.” I mock-scolded
“OK sis.” he said quietly, without a trace of humor in his voice. And hung up.
I met up with a really ragged looking Eoin in Tableaux, the hotel's restaurant the next afternoon. I had come in for a late lunch, but he appeared to be having a really late breakfast.
“Thanks for coming out with me last night!” I nearly bit my lip at my poor choice of words, but quickly decided the best course was to plow ahead quickly. “You've been a supremely good sport with all my ….unorthodox... ideas on this junket.”
He smiled wearily. “Before I signed on to this film, friends tried to warn me about you. I don't know if you're aware of it, but you do have a ….reputation.”
“I should hope SO!” I kidded.
“Well. It's kind of a scary reputation... high strung, unpredictable, vindictive, kind of paranoid..”
“...Katherine the Terrible” I smiled. He shot me a sheepish grin.
“Yeah. And at first, on the set, I thought they might be right.... you seemed a bit like a loaded gun... but I was always professional with you and we got along without any trouble.”
“Glad to know.” I smiled.
“But then at the premiere, and the after party... and on the press tour.... I began to understand some of the things people tried to warn me about...”
I raised an eyebrow. 'Uh oh. Here it comes.' I thought.
“You ARE... well, you CAN be.... unpredictable. That 'spoiler alert' thing on GMA. At first I thought you'd lost it... then you kept at it... and soon it became absurd... and transcended absurd... and I just kept waiting for you to blurt it out again... and I wasn't the only one.... but when you did it during our duet... I never saw that coming... and you completely destroyed me.”
I frowned apologetically.
“AND you made the most riveting live television I can recall. So, yes, my friends were right, you're unpredictable and overwhelming and an all-consuming force... but not in a bad way... more like a brilliant way. I had my misgivings when we were working on the film, and especially seeing the finished product at the premiere... but going on the road with you, and seeing the reaction of people everywhere and the force of nature that is Katherine Keller and her insane idea of public relations.... may I just say, I'm proud to be your tabloid boy toy, and I wouldn't have missed last night for anything!
“Even if I hadn't gotten you laid?” I grinned.
Eoin went bright crimson. “WHAT?!!! How.... ...what makes you think you got me laid.... uh, assuming for a moment that I did in fact get laid...????”
“Oh. PLEASE!.... Under what other circumstances than one of my 'insane' ideas, would you find yourself in a drag bar wearing nothing but a leather G-string, surrounded by a gaggle of admirers who thought you were a local farmer who resembled a straight movie star?” I could not wipe the grin from my face. In hindsight, and presuming I'd planned it that way, I was a genius.
Eoin regarded me for an uncomfortably long time. I presumed he was formulating a response.
“God, my friends warned me you were a force of nature, but they truly have NO idea...” He just shook his head and smiled.
“Finish your egg whites” I chided. “We have to be packed and ready to load out for the Big Easy by four. Can you walk, or shall I fetch some porters and a sedan chair?”
He laughed and winced almost imperceptibly, and I knew we were partners in crime. Whatever crazy notion I came up with next, I could count on Eoins cooperation ...and collaboration.
New Orleans was amazing. I laid off 'the crazy' there because the city was already in its own amazing, delightful, alternate reality.
Houston was as tightly wrapped as New Orleans was recklessly uninhibited. We shook them up, and I suspect we got banned for life by the city elders.
Austin was as delightfully bohemian as I'd heard. We didn't have to push the film, it was already gaining a Rocky Horror like audience of fans who interacted with the film, and it was a special treat to attend one of these screenings and to surprise the crowd by getting on stage at the end and thanking them all for appreciating the unique charms of the film. I ended with a breathless faux-beauty queen gush holding a clump of kudzu to my breast and breathlessly exclaiming... “I'm a MEME! Thanks to you... all of you.... I'm a ….MEME!!!” That brought the house down, and soon all the smartphone videos of my 'I'm a meme' bit became... a meme.
….Meta....
Life on the road settled into a routine as we crisscrossed the country. Eoin and I became a close team, conspiring new ways to plug the film, which really didn't need our help anymore. It had acquired a sort of cultural critical mass as a camp classic, and even if not what the studio or our director originally intended, they were pragmatic enough to welcome success under whatever guise it came.
After a grueling nine and a half weeks which saw us hitting every region of the U.S. ...and I suspect a few fringes of Canada and Mexico too, we were all ready for a rest.
Dez seemed nonplussed when I asked him if I was now on my own and supposed to find my own place to rest.
“What? Of course not. You're headed back home to Monterrey to rest up after your successful tour.”
I reminded him that Monterrey was not my home and that I was NOT Katherine – which he seemed to have forgotten. And that I presumed the gig was over and I was heading back to Australia with my cousin. I also inquired about Katherine.
“Well.... she's had some... setbacks. She's not ready to be discharged. And we have a big European press tour coming up. You do recall that our contract had a pick up clause. You're committed to a compulsory extension at our discretion. And it should come as no surprise that we're exercising that option. So head home to Monterrey. Relax. Unwind. Take the boat out for a few days.
“Boat? Boat to where?”
“Wherever you want” Dez chuckled. “It's your boat. Take it anywhere you want.”
“I have a ….I mean Katherine has a boat?”
He nodded and grinned. “The Dodge&Burn. 110 foot tri-hull. Bought with your Versace money.”
OK. Maybe I could be Katherine for a while longer.
Monterrey was relaxing. I started making a habit of running on the beach and into town. It wasn't too long before people stopped treating me like a sasquatch sighting and actually started waving and saying hello as I'd run by.
It was only a matter of time until the press descended upon the town like locusts. It was annoying enough having their cars following me and gumming up traffic. They'd also loiter at local businesses, buying nothing, just lurking for a chance encounter. Word got back to me that while everyone liked me, they'd be happier if I wouldn't come around anymore, so maybe the paparazzi horde would leave.
Maybe it was time to check out this boat of hers.
Boat was an understatement. Even 'Yacht' seemed too modest. It had more rooms than the house I grew up in, and was appointed as lavishly as the hotel suites I had on the tour. Captain Steve was right out of central casting. Retired navy and happy to be absurdly well paid to be on call for the rare occasions when Katherine took out the Dodge&Burn.
Dennis explained to me that the boat was actually owned by Hauteshot, Katherine's company. She had some sharp business partners and early in her modeling career, she became an LLC for tax purposes. So most everything was owned by her company, not by her personally. Of course since she WAS the company – and its sole product, it was essentially the same thing. Her silent partners ran the business and her job was simply being Katherine – and being well compensated for it.
I was so out of my depth. It seemed a bit fishy to me, but I guess that's how the wealthy get and stay wealthy.
Before I was declared 'seaworthy' I had yet another visit from Doctor Dale. More shots, which apparently included another round of sedatives and a touch up of his 'handiwork' and I was declared bikini-worthy, which for some unexplainable reason, gave me an anticipatory little thrill.
I learned from Dennis the only time Katherine wore a swimsuit was on a shoot. But she kept them all. I mentioned that some looked like they had been worn so hard they were coming apart. He just laughed and said that those were the ones she had been sewn into for a shoot. Once they were done, they had to sort of tear them apart to remove them. I found a few that were surprisingly flattering to Katherine's odd frame. They really flattered the legs and somehow gave the illusion of curves where there were none to speak of. Even the top seemed to pull and gather a pretty flat chest into a surprising illusion of modest but flattering cleavage. I began to understand the synergy of fashion and photography. They were both the science of shadow and light, and directed perspective.
Captain Steve and his crew of 6 seemed delighted to be tasked to take the Dodge&Burn out for an extended run down the coast. I learned the usual drill was just a schmooze cruise around the bay for business associates. I gathered quickly that they felt this to be a waste of a beautiful vessel and their skills, so they were in quite high spirits as we set off for a leisurely run down to San Diego and maybe a stop at Catalina on the return leg.
It was heavenly. I was adoring sunbathing, which initially seemed to startle the crew, since Katherine had a rep as a bit of a recluse. They quickly got over it, and kept me well supplied with cocoa butter and mojitos.
Mikey wasn't much for the sun and spent most of his time below decks with Dennis and the rest of the entourage, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves in their own way.
The morning of our second day out, Mikey came to me with his iPad. A conspiracy website was posting their 'exclusive' story that the difficult Katherine Keller had been forcibly abducted by evil studio execs and replaced by a substitute they referred to as her 'gleeful twin'.
I think I stopped breathing when I read the headline. But Mikey insisted that I read on.
All their 'evidence' was mostly paranoid claptrap. Their before and after pictures were both photos of me. Their 'secret source' claimed that Katherine was being held in solitary confinement in an insane asylum on a remote Canadian border town in northern Maine. So much was so laughably, provably, wrong that it was easy to dismiss. Still, it did get me wondering if amid all this conspiratorial nonsense, they had managed to accidentally publish something that was coincidentally true.
I began to wonder about the fate of the real Katherine Keller.
I brought the subject up to Dennis one evening when he brought me a sweater as I watched the sun set from the bow.
“I've been wondering the same thing myself.” he confided in a low voice. “Girl was a mess. Always disappearing for a week or two without notice... showing up naked and tripping at burning man or drying out for two weeks at a spa under a lame alias... but she's never been gone this long. And not even a phone call. That is not like her. When they brought you in, I thought 'good idea, girl can get some downtime while the double distracts the press' ...but you're not being a distraction... you're being her... the whole deal... even moving into her house... I thought whatever was going on, that you were in on it...” I shook my head, and he smiled. “I didn't know who to talk to about my suspicions... and it's been stressing me out. It's such a relief to talk about it... I never dreamed the one I could confide in would be you!”
I grinned and shook my head. “Well, I never dreamed I'd be sitting on a yacht in a bikini having this conversation. You remember the first night we met?”
He smiled, his eyes distant with memories ...and wonder. “So long ago...”
“Only a few months.”
He just shook his head and regarded me warmly. “Feels like forever ago... You've come a long way baby!” He chuckled.
“I think I have a lot longer to go.... First off, I'd like to find and chat with the REAL Katherine Keller.”
“How on earth are we going to do that? Anyone who knows where she actually is is probably in on it.”
I thought about it, and the notion that had obviously been simmering in the back of my mind came clearly into focus. Like a sniper's sight. Or a paparazzo's lens.
“I think I know a guy....”
It didn't take a private detective to find Matt Cutler. Want to find a guy on the UCLA track team? ….Hang out at the UCLA track.
I was dressed down in sweats and a hoodie with logo and school colors, courtesy of the campus shop. I looked like any other student ...maybe a little too student like with all the branded apparel. Still, no one seemed to notice.
I didn't have to wait too long. Matt was the real deal. He wasn't going to coast on his scholarship. He was going to work out every day and prove to them that he was worth their vote of confidence. I let him do a few laps before I made my way onto the track. I wanted to tire him out a bit so he couldn't bolt on me. ...and I found myself admiring his form as he circled the track. That was unexpected, but I told myself that it was just professional critique... his gait, his form, the way his thighs tensed and thrust with each step... the power effortlessly radiating from his glutes to the soles of his feet as he propelled himself around the track.... yeah... professional analysis... one runner critiquing another... that's what it was. What the hell else would it be?....
I shook off these thoughts and brought myself back to the mission at hand. I sprang onto the track and quickly caught up to him, since he was running for endurance and not for speed. I lapped him and smiled as I passed. I'm not sure he made the connection, so I poured on the speed, figuring at least that would get his attention and eventually came up from behind. He was waiting, and when I pulled up alongside he turned and said 'Shit, you're fast....' then his face did.... a thing... I think he clocked me, but it just wasn't clicking... what the hell would the famous movie star be doing at his school track, dressed like a campus co-op mannequin in all sorts of school branded gear, tearing around the track like an actual athlete. There was a disconnect. And though he struggled, his brain would not connect the two diverse images. So I had to do it for him.
“You run a lot better when you're wearing proper shoes. Not so sure I could outrun you now.” I grinned.
He quickly lost velocity as his brain shifted focus from his running.
“Katherine???” His look was priceless. “It IS you....?”
I just smiled back at him and said “That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about....”
Matt reluctantly left the track and walked with me across the campus. I think curiosity trumped training discipline. At least this once. Or maybe he was intrigued that I sought him out. OK, maybe my ego's just out of control, but I felt kind of flattered that he curtailed his workout for me. I was sure he liked me. And it made me flush. Whoa. Too into character here. I needed to sound him out, and if I felt he was trustworthy, it was time to lay my cards on the table. ….well, not all my cards....
“Katherine!” he was certain now. “What the hell are you doing here? ….not that it's not great to see you.... but what the hell?....”
I smiled as confidently as I could muster. I had to bluff well to get him on board. We both had to think I was in total control of the moment.
“....So.... are you still interested in a career as a headline stealing journalist?”
He grinned shyly. “I was never a journalist. I just thought that maybe I could get some of that easy paparrazi money.... only it's not so easy.... long hours... it's cold and damp and you're usually hiding in bushes surrounded by animals.... and then there's also the wildlife” he grinned.
I smirked. “OK. So you're not planning on being the next Woodward or Bernstein or Glenn Greenwald.... still.... care to help a girl solve a mystery?”
I trust my instincts. I had a good feeling about Matt. I took a calculated risk and told him about me.
Well, not everything! I did confess that I was a celebrity ringer hired by Katherine's people to keep her in the public spotlight while she was indispose ….but that this had gone on far longer than I expected and that I was beginning to wonder about the fate of the actual Katherine.
He wasn't going to sell me out for a fast buck. Especially when I explained to him how much more lucrative it would be to see this through and find the real Katherine. He'd have a much better story, and my full cooperation when we learned everything and were ready to tell the story. Also, I suspect he may have had a bit of a crush on me
That came as a total surprise. I knew there was something there when he thought I was Katherine, but I thought that as soon as I confessed to being a celebrity stand-in, his interest would wane or maybe even turn to active contempt. I miscalculated. He was different, but not in the way I expected. He relaxed. I think Katherine intimidated him a bit. He seemed every bit as intrigued ...maybe even more so since it wasn't a high-powered celebrity sitting across from him, but just a normal girl who looked uncannily like a high-powered celebrity. But I was anything but a normal girl, and I had to find some way to keep him at arms length without that Katherine intimidation thing.
I told him what little I knew, and what Dennis had seen and overheard and passed along to me. I didn't out anyone by name. If this blew up, I would be the only one busted. I mentioned that my cousin had some of his geeky hacker friends working on finding any trace of Katherine or comings and goings of anyone in her entourage that might seem out of place and betray her undisclosed location.
Matt said he had a few contacts from his days as a would be papparazzo, and he'd try and hit them up for some sleuthing tricks or any other techniques he might be able to get from them. He said he'd use the excuse of a stalked relative and a psycho ex he was trying to help with, so they wouldn't get the whiff of a story. It seemed like a plan, so I gave him a Gmail address I set up just for this, since there was an encryption plug-in for chrome that made security dead simple. Our encryption key was 'DondeK2?' We would chat by email until Matt's next school break, by which time we hoped to have uncovered something to act upon.
So for the moment, life went on as Katherine.
But what a life! Down to San Diego for a day, then a leisurely cruise back up the coast, and day at Catalina for Dennis and the entourage, and some well deserved shore leave for Captain Steve and his crew. They were quite surprised at this, but once they wrapped their head around the fact that 'The Sea-B” as I learned they called me, had given them all a day off with no strings attached and no hidden agenda, they warmed up to the idea, and we ended up having to stay an extra day until the crew was once again ...sea worthy.
I had fun jousting with the paparrazzi, and I'm beginning to think they were starting to enjoy this little cat and mouse game too. It began to feel less like malevolent stalking and more like a mischievous game of tag. I would lead them on a merry chase through some ridiculous places and situations, then when they would inevitably catch me, instead of responding like a cornered animal, I threw my hands up with a 'dang. You got me!' expression, but they quickly noticed when they 'caught me' it was always in a place or doing something that just promoted or enhanced the Katherine Keller brand. Say what you will about these guys, but they're not dumb. I think they figured out pretty quickly that they were being played, but like a dog with a ball, they couldn't help but spring after me when I'd engage with them. Actually, I think the sense of playfulness was infectious. Their demeanor was more like friendly rivals in a pick-up game than natural adversaries. This was how I chose to amuse myself on the island. And I suspect they were having some competitive fun too.
Before we set sail, I led the press-pack on one last merry chase. I hadn't done a triathlon in ages and had kind of been missing the satisfying exertion of the grueling event. While far from a triathlon, I made it a point to go for a run in full view of my paparrazzi pack, who dutifully took off after me in their cars. God forbid any of them should actually run – only Matt Cutler had broken the mold on that count. My 'hounds' were rather wily though.... at least some of them... who had the bright idea to rent mopeds so they could follow me when I strayed from the road. It let them pretty much keep pace with me, but I was still pretty far ahead of them when I got up to the strait by Pin Rock and turning back to grin at my pursuers, stripped off my running tights, shoes and windbreaker to reveal my speedo racing suit and dove into the water headed for the other side. Some immediately high tailed it to go the long way around Catalina Harbor, while the more patient of their brethren followed me from shore with their telephoto lenses. They saw me leave the water by the waiting racing bike as I donned the bike pants and cycling top, shoes and helmet and tore off toward town. It was only when those who had remained across the harbor and photographed what type of bike I was riding spotted it in town, that the hunting party felt they had again picked up the scent. They stormed the restaurant where my bike was parked, only to find a room filled with Katherine Kellers. Old ones, young ones, heavy ones, short ones, Asian ones, African ones, Native American ones, even an Albino one! I had Mikey find every available Katherine Keller impersonator in the western US and Canada and fly them out for this prank. I met with them all before the gag and I think by the time I had finished my pep-talk, they were all as gleeful about this stunt as I was. I suspected half of them signed on just for the chance to meat the 'real' Katherine Keller, and I had to wonder how they would have felt if they knew I was just an imposter like them. Thankfully, no one got wise, and the prank went off superbly.
I did instruct the restaurant to wine and dine my pals in the press for being such good sports, and laughed at the notion that while they were still in the process of realizing how thoroughly they had been punked, I would be lounging on the deck of the Dodge&Burn, soaking up rays while we headed back toward Monterey.
The tabloid coverage was actually rather flattering, recalling my 'antics' at taunting the press corps on my 'Island Romp', making me sound a bit more hedonistic than I actually was. Still, more than a few tabloids made Wile E Coyote / Road Runner references when referring to our merry games of chase.
I even took out a Twitter account under the username 'KatchMeFUKan' as 'TheREALKatherneKeller' from “Hollywoodland” after a little phone and fax wrangling with Twitter's management, Mikey got me a green 'Verified' status and I started publicly needling the press. I got about 117 thousand followers in under 24 hours, and Mikey told me which were owned by journalists and media companies and I followed all of them back, so we could converse publicly OR privately.
After a few days and a few hundred thousand followers, I started teasing particular members of the press corps. I only engaged with those who were good sports. Trolls got ignored. Most of my posts were like 'nice shot of me in that t-back speedo, but a real pro would have shot me getting OUT of the water, not before going in. #meep-meep.' And I attached an extreme selfie of my left eye seemingly without makeup, brow raised, glistening as if from beading water (though it was actually glycerin & petroleum jelly– thanks Dennis) and kind of out of focus in the foreground, my perfectly manicured right hand giving a beckoning 'bring it on' curl like Keanu Reeves in the Matrix. Yes, I was enjoying this!
It quickly became obvious that I was playing with the celebrity press, and most of them got it. They knew that our sparring in public media drove traffic to both our sites. Most were pretty game about the public interplay, and I got more than a few private messages saying, 'love the public jousting, but wtf. Why now?' I would invariably reply 'obviously, I'm a slow learner, but it's working now. Let's keep it up! <3 K2'. As with most of the 'gut decisions' I made about being Katherine, this seemed to be working even better than hoped for.
We had to curtail our fox and hound games for the European leg of the press tour. The studio spared no expense. We flew private across Europe as if we were some diplomatic entourage or a ceremonial royal family of some sort... and in a way we were. Right or wrong, in the minds of a lot of the general public, celebrity is the new royalty, only without any deference. Everyone was waiting for us to trip-up.
Our merry band of travelers, reassembled for this leg, was quite impressed at the chartered plane, though I knew it was in large part to spare me from airport scanners.
Our European tour was a bit more subdued than our US sweep, because the European Media already seemed in on the joke. European humour seemed at once more nuanced and perceptive, yet in some ways, less jaded than in the U.S. Perhaps they were just going easy on us since most of the cast was Australian or Canadian, and even though Katherine was American, I kept 'in character' – which really meant using an accent far closer to my own than my well rehearsed suppressed-Pittsburgh Katherine dialect. I got compliments all along our tour from people who noticed that I didn't sound American, but didn't even act it. I'm not sure what that meant, but I think it was intended as a compliment. I couldn't resist lampooning this theme though, by showing up at one event in a foam and mesh truckers cap, a schlubby velour tracksuit, chili-stained American flag T-shirt and all sorts of gaudy jewelry carrying a 64-ounce disposable soda cup. To the bewilderment of my interviewers, I explained with mock-offense, how upset I was that people were questioning my credentials as a 'U-S-A-nian' so I decided to put those rumours to rest once and for all.
I stepped out into the middle of the studio set and began spinning around like wonder woman, peeling and jettisoning my 'U.S.A.-nian costume' as I spun, making a game of trying to hit a gobsmacked Eoin, who was still sitting on the interview couch, with every article of clothing I tossed like some spiralling version of pitching 'horseshoes'. He quickly caught on and started reaching up a hand to snare the wayward item I overtossed, cackling so loudly I could see the floor crew wince and grab their headphones. I was nearly done my Wonder Woman bit when something unplanned happened. Maybe the large soda was a step too far. Not carrying it, but actually loudly slurping it through the straw during the interview. I felt the large bubble well up inside and knew I would not be able to contain it. I had already peeled out of most of the clothes and lost the hat, shaking my hair down around my shoulders while I spun the gaudy necklace down my back showing only the tasteful chain, and did similar with the rest of the jewelry going from gauche to tasteful in a quick twist. I had stepped out of my velcro-laced shoes and tracksuit, but the oversized Tee hung off me like a large dress, so far I was only revealing a bit of the dark hose underneath the costume. As I reached up to remove the Tee for the big reveal, I decided to use my unexpected gas attack and punctuated the Tee-shirt 'peel and reveal' with a large, loud belch.
It was even more explosive than I had expected, but synched perfectly with my tearing off the Tee-shirt and lobbing it into Eoin's guffawing face.
He didn't even remove the wadded up tee.... hiding under it like a mask while he clutched his knees to his chest and convulsed with laughter.
I had figured that by this time all eyes – and cameras, would be on me. Finally stopped spinning and looking unexpectedly elegant in my black sequined off the shoulder minidress, hair draped down over my collarbone and ending just before my quite prominent seeming cleavage, even if it was really just convincing trompe l'oeil.
Dennis, Mikey and I had worked on this gag for days, and I was quite confident that when we pulled it off successfully on live TV, people would be suitably stunned.
But live happens. None of us had factored in Eoin. OR the belch.
I noticed the cameras rapidly cutting back and forth between my elegant reveal and his quivering spasms of laughter on the couch.
When I saw a camera zoom into me and noticed the boom mike swing in from the corner of my eye, I put my fingers delicately over my mouth and with more genuine embarrassment than anyone would have guessed, stared meekly into the camera and said demurely “Oh my! I feel like I've just been fracked ...hard!”
Well, that did it. Eoin howled and rolled onto the floor, curled into the fetal position and spasming with hiccups and shrieks – actual shrieks of laughter.
I couldn't be mad at him for stealing focus and hijacking the bit. It didn't go as expected, but it was as memorable and meme-worthy as we had hoped. Just in an unplanned way.
I spent a lot of time on our last tour learning focus and breathing to NOT be affected by the contagion that was Eoin's hysterics. Although this time it took every bit of self-discipline I possessed to keep my 'poker face'. As I walked back to the guest couch and the dazed hosts, I asked innocently. “Alright. Which do you think is the real Katherine Keller and which is the act?” with a slight smile.
At this point, Eoin was being helped off the set by three stagehands who practically had to carry him, since he still seemed unable to walk on his own.
The hosts went to a break, and quickly stopped me from getting up to see about Eoin.
“We had heard stories and seen the you tubes from your U.S./Canada tour, but we thought this was all ...choreographed in advance...” I think I caught a suppressed grin or two.
“Well” I smiled politely. “Obviously I knew what I was going to do, since it took a lot of preparation and practice to learn to do that spin routine.... but I've found it works best if my costar sees it at the same time as the audience. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see if he's okay.”
They nodded their assent and turned to grin at each other.
The rest of the interview went fairly smoothly, except for when Eoin was finally able to compose himself and rejoin us. He couldn't look at me without starting to giggle, and even though I refused to make eye contact, certain that it would send him off again, even when I'd answer the hosts questions directly, I could hear his stifled snickers.
We managed to get through the interview and hit YouTube before we returned to our hotel. I was a bit more ambivalent that my improvised spin-belch/T-shirt toss was quickly becoming the most popular seven second loop on instagram.
The European tour continued in the same mischievous, lighthearted manner as our US leg. Mikey Dennis and I enjoyed coming up with fresh hijinx to pull on Eoin, who for his part seemed to delight in his role as perpetual prank victim.
At one meet and greet in Darmstadt, we were doing our usual smile,shake,sign routine when someone in the crowd got a call on their mobile. It seems they had used a sample of one of Eoin's laughing fits as their ringtone. All eyes in the startled crowd turned suddenly to the mortified fan, then just as suddenly to Eoin, who had collapsed to a heap on the floor in gales of laughter. Instantly, everyone had their own mobiles out, and I'm pretty certain by the end of the night, most everyone had new ringtones.
And so it went. Light and mirthful on the official junket, while after hours at our hotel, Dennis, Mikey and I tried to unravel the mystery of the missing Katherine Keller.
Matt had some info he offered on the condition that I not ask where he got it, which seemed a lot like a how-to list of all the sketchy things the British Tabloids got prosecuted for. He half-heartedly quoted his unnamed colleague's motto that sometimes it takes a criminal to catch a criminal.
There was a whole toolkit of apps for hacking voicemails, lists of sites and credentials to access mobile carriers networks and essentially trace someones phone by the cell towers their phone 'checked in' at.... he had other tools that would let us let work backwards, finding people's mobile numbers and finding the id of their SIM card, their phone's IMEI and other technical stuff that was kind of lost on me, but seemed disturbingly familiar to my cousin Mikey, who nodded at every 'technique' Matt relayed.
“I followed the whole News of the World story avidly when it came out. It was fascinating. Who knew that the act of gathering tabloid news would be even more sordid and scandalous than the news itself?” Mikey grinned. “Yeah, I read a lot about how they did it. It's kind of like spycraft 101. Sounds like a good place to start... seeing if anyone in Katherine's management company is doing something ...or going someplace... unexpected. If she is being held against her will, someone must be keeping a lid on this.”
I nodded, remembering how surprised Dez was when he confronted me that first time in the lift. And how he used the word 'escape' then quickly changed the subject. I mentioned that to Dennis.
“That's not too suspicious. Katherine's been in and out of rehab at her management's ...insistence... and she often got fed up and pulled a houdini. The fact that Mr Lehmann thought this had happened again, doesn't mean he's in on it. …..then again, he was the one who brought you on board, and he doesn't seem too concerned that the real Katherine's still not back.”
OK. Dez was a possible, if not a probable. We had to do a lot of internet sleuthing to find out who the 'silent partners' in Hauteshot LLC were. Since they were the people invisibly running Katherine's business empire, at least some of them would have to be involved. No one else would have the ability or the motivation to abduct and hide their figurehead.
I began to think of the urban legends I had heard about Howard Hughes, L. Ron Hubbard, assorted foreign despots and dictators in repressive regimes, and all the speculation that their 'inner circle' had mutinied and secretly deposed their leader and figurehead when the status quo was threatened. I had no idea if any of this was true, but it sounded like plausible human nature, so I wasn't inclined to rule anything out.
Between Matt's contacts in the sordid press and Mikey's online friends – who I really didn't want to know about, we managed to track down the 'men behind the curtain' of Hauteshot LLC and began logging the comings and goings of Katherine's manager Burt Wasserman, her agent Lorne Cullen, her portfolio manager and Hauteshot CFO Andy Raditz, and about a half dozen other high rollers who seemed to rely on the Katherine Keller brand for their lavish lifestyles. Now we just needed to wait for data to accrue and patterns to emerge.
Meanwhile, things in Katherine-land were getting interesting. Apparently I was booked for a model shoot – which I thought Katherine had left behind her years ago.
Burt the manager 'reminded' me of the dustup in Prague 6 years ago, and how it was decided to avoid the damaging publicity of getting police or lawyers involved, that it was agreed that the next time I was in the Czech Republic, I would make restitution to the wronged party by doing a make-up shoot, yielding total creative control to the artist. When I asked Dennis about this, he just shook his head and smiled.
”Oh my God. I totally forgot about that! This was scandalous, even by Katherine's standards. Let's just say it involved a tryst gone horribly wrong and ended with the puppetmaster left restrained in the dungeon of a private club for days and Katherine running off with his soon-to-be ex-wife.”
“Oh.” That was all I could come up with. I was pretty speechless. “...um... and the 'restitution'?”
Dennis shook his head. “I don't want to even think about it. I don't think Katherine did either. She just made it a point to steer clear of the Czech Republic so she would never have to deal with her ...settlement...”
“I wish someone had warned ME....” I sighed
Rado Mitruczek was one of the 'old guard' of modern art in the former Eastern Bloc going back to the 1950s when he emigrated to Czechoslovakia before the 'Prague Spring'. His battles with authority over freedom of expression were the stuff of legend.
And it was mostly legend.
Rado's wrangles with censors were mostly theater... both the artist and the bureaucrats got a lot of mileage and cachet within their respective communities of supporters over the 'culture wars'.
When the wall fell and the world changed, Rado reinvented himself as the maverick who helped weaken the wall and ushered in freedom of expression. The only problem was that Rado didn't have a lot to express. His real art was the performance of battling the monoculture. Once he was free to create anything he wanted, he had no idea what to do with that freedom.
He eventually drifted into commercial work and material that was arguably fetish photography. The backlash from conservative commercial clients filled the void left by the old culture ministries, and the controversy over his racy images and live performance pieces only increased attention to his works and his client's products, so he remained the polarizing figure in the culture even though he was now well in his 70s.
It also seems his dalliance with fetish photography kindled a taste for more... exotic hedonistic pleasures... which he got away with because he was a cultural icon and seen as a 'harmless old man' although the stories of the terrifying ordeals he put his models through under the guise of 'making art' were notorious in some circles... like Katherine's.
Dennis recounted the tale of Katherine's incident with Rado on a paid modeling shoot, which turned out to involve a planned threesome with his current wife, who confessed to Katherine in a rare moment alone, that she was desperate to leave and free herself from performing in his decadent and increasingly dangerous 'art projects', but could see no way out.
Rado had messed with her mind like the best cult leader. The only out she could see was suicide, and Rado had her convinced that she would only be incarnated into the afterlife as something even more unpleasant.
Katherine talked her into leaving and got her away while asking Rado to demonstrate one of the bondage devices he wanted the women to use in his 'performance piece'. Katherine sealed him into his own 'mummification chamber' and left with Gemma, his latest common-law wife and 'muse'.
Once they were safely out of the country, she called the authorities who found Rado in his compromising situation. But he still had friends in high places, and it was agreed to keep things quiet because the guy was a cultural icon.
Instead they pursued Katherine for kidnapping.
A contentious meeting with authorities at a neutral country's embassy enabled Gemma to tell her story of forced submission and psychological duress, and the authorities were eager for this sordid matter to just go away.
Katherine quickly agreed to Rado's 'settlement' as long as it was only enforceable if she ever returned to his country, which she knew would never happen.
As a postscript, Dennis reminded me that I met Gemma... at Katherine's Monterey estate where she oversaw the help as staff supervisor.
I had been unaware of the connection or backstory, but suddenly recalled Dennis referring to Casa Keller as an 'endangered species' refuge. I was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to Katherine Keller than I had ever imagined.
Rado Mitruczek was a dapper looking old guy. He reminded me of a guy selling 'complete' classical music collections on late night TV.... or, who was that old movie guy?.... Douglas Fairbanks Jr?.... he had that kind of old school dapper air. I began to think all the stories about him were wrong, or at least exaggerations... he seemed like a harmless old guy from another era.
Until he took me into his 'private workshop' to show the exhibition he was working on for me. It looked like Dr Mengele's toolshed. There were gizmos and devices I could only guess about, but it all seemed quite flamboyantly unsavory. I did ask him about many items, and he seemed quite proud of each of his creations, bragging at the different ways they could bring a 'model' to a horrific near death experience, shuddering and exclaiming that mere orgasm paled at the sensation of being 'on the brink of infinity'. OK, beloved cultural icon or not, this guy was seriously disturbed... and extremely dangerous. I can't even bring myself to repeat the 'art projects' he bragged about in grotesquely lurid detail. Fortunately, I didn't have to, because the smartphone I had in the pocket of my fashionably sheer blazer was streaming my entire 'pre-performance briefing' to an avid Ustream audience, which Dennis, Mikey and I made sure also included local authorities and members of the news media.
I kind of counted on the fact that a 70ish guy would be unaware that someone could possibly be livestreaming from the phone in her pocket. That gamble seemed to be paying off.
Rado kept trying to offer me a drink and I kept refusing, finally relenting to accept a glass but avoiding actually drinking it, covertly tossing the liquid into an empty pocket in my trendy bright neon plastic purse.
Once he thought I had imbibed he lit up, describing his grand exhibit, called 'last week's model' and brought me into his studio where five or six stunning young women … or more accurately, older girls... were sealed in what looked like giant vacuum packed plastic packages with names, measurement info, price and 'expiration date' printed on large labels affixed to the bags.
I couldn't tell whether they were amazingly realistic mannequins or actual flesh and blood people. But none moved and seemed frozen in their expressions, so I presumed they were amazingly lifelike figures.
Rado showed me the large empty plastic sack attached to some vacuum pump device that looked to be from a science fiction movie. I noticed that it had MY name and measurements, and by the 'expiration date' contained a large red “Expired' stamp.
He explained how I was to be covered in green and black velour dust – resembling mold, and posed in a large bin like a disposed doll. I was getting really uneasy and wondering when the authorities watching the livestream would see enough and end this harrowing encounter. To stall for time, I told him I didn't think I could remain as still as his mannequns. He flashed the most menacing smile and explained that they weren't mannequins.
At my alarmed reaction, he just waved his hand dismissively and said they were fine... better than fine in fact. There was this biootoxin...used in sacred rituals by an obscure indigenous rainforest culture, that would completely inhibit muscle and motor function in its subjects, while not crossing the blood brain barrier and not affecting the nervous system, so they in fact had heightened sensory stimulus of their virtual encapsulation. Their respiration and heartrates slowed to imperecptible levels, giving the continuous sensation of suffocation without actually depriving the slowed metabolism of enough oxygen to do any lasting damage.
I was stunned and appalled by what I was hearing, and if the authorities didn't come knocking soon, I was going to subdue this old sadist myself. Rado clucked that my beverage contained enough of his 'full body botox' to render me the pliable last piece in his perverse 'artwork'. He kept looking at me for signs that it was beginning to have its effect, and muttered about how long it was taking to affect my 'freakishly large' frame, making no effort to hide his growing annoyance.
At some point, those watching the stream had seen enough and the door intercom sounded. Words were exchanged and Rado left to sign for a package. Only the delivery person was undercover police and Rado was taken into custody.
Unfortunately, I found I'd been locked into his 'toyroom' as we later learned he called it. It took a few hours for authorities to get through his 'defenses' and release me ...AND send my drink off for lab analysis, after which he was also charged with forced detention and attempted rape.
While waiting to be sprung, I did have a long while to examine all his 'toys' and talked to the girls imprisoned in the vacuum sealed plastic pouches, assuming – based upon his earlier brag, that they were all lucid and extremely aware of what was going on.
I talked calmly to them about people coming soon to get them out and undo whatever that evil bastard had done to them. I told then of my scheme of using my phone and manipulating him to brag while authorities were watching and recording.
I knew they were motionless and did resemble lifeless mannequins, just as Rado bragged. But one thing he did not mention, or maybe had not noticed, was that the pupils of their eyes changed their dilation as I talked of Rado's twisted 'art project' and their imminent rescue and release. I was overwhelmed at the thought of what these girls were enduring, and I hoped I did Katherine proud by seeing that this twisted son of a bitch was stopped once and for good.
This whole incident just provided more fodder for the tabloid press about 'Katherine's Kinky Kidnapper' and made it look like a salacious stunt on my part.
If this was the sort of stuff the real Katherine had been dealing with since about 16, no wonder she was a bit of a misanthrope.
Things kind of got back to normal once I was able to leave the country and get back on the promotional tour. Whatever plea settlement he made with authorities, I ...or rather, Katherine... was absolved of any further obligation stemming from the earlier incident, and in fact my little 'model audition livestream' managed to verify all the earlier allegations Katherine made but was unable to prove.
“Well, at least now Katherine will be free to return here if she ever wants to.” I smiled to Dennis.
He shot me a sad look. “Once she's free to go anywhere. Have your spies been able to find anything yet?”
I turned to Mikey. “Have you heard anything from Matt or your creepy internet friends?” I smiled.
“They're NOT creepy. Just curious. ….well, kind of nosy... a bit beyond nosy... okay, maybe a little creepy... but in a good 'information wants to be free' way ….even if it is really personal information...”
He cleared his throat self-consciously and got back on topic.“Matt's been following some of HatueShot's co-owners, and he has a guy in the mailroom that sends him phone photos of all envelopes to or from her agent... postmarks, return addresses and stuff. My resources are tracing cellphone records. I think one guy has a second family his 'official' family doesn't know about, and there are some occasional... probably just casual hookups... but so far no pattern. Some of these may involve where they're holding Katherine, but so far they don't look any different from casual short-term hook-ups. We may need to wait for more data to see a consistent pattern. Tracing expenditures, we're finding no regular payments that would indicate prolonged stays at a rehab facility ...or some sort of ….” he scowled “...asylum or forced-stay type facility”
“Well, keep at it.” I said. “We have to find out where she is. Why she's still there. And depending on what we find, how to get her out.”
“OK, cuz. As long as you're not asking for much!” Mikey grinned.
I shot him a smile. “Yeah, her life is really growing on me, and I'm shocked when I stop and think about it how easy I took to it. But more and more I'm reminded of the woman whose life I've ...borrowed.... without her permission. There's some guilt at stepping into her lavish life while she's God-knows-where.... but mostly I want to find out what happened to her, and ideally meet her and compare notes and find out how we both ended up where we are and how to set things right.”
I got the warmest smile from Dennis. It really seemed that they battled like cats and dogs, but when I realized how long they had been together and learned more about the many things they had been through... I began to think that maybe they battled like ….siblings.... okay, there was no blood between them, but they both grew up together on the streets, and when Katherine's career took off, Dennis was with her every step of the way.
I finally screwed up the nerve to ask him about it.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
He shook his head. “Don't think so. Maybe the guy who got my mom pregnant had other kids with other girls... but... if I need a life saving transplant, I think I'm screwed.” he smiled.
Typical Dennis. Humourous, but very very dark. I did get out of him that his mom raised him... sort of... but she was a bit of a mess herself and died when he was about ten. He lived on the streets until he got caught shoplifting and ended up in the social care system. Some time in an orphanage, and foster care, which he really didn't take to. Running away and back on the streets again. He preferred living by his wits than being a cog in the system, and he was much better at not getting caught.
He bumped into Katherine over a turf dispute regarding a restaurant dumpster, and they eventually formed a truce that quickly became an alliance. Katherine was 'discovered' by a photographer and soon left the streets behind her.
She took Dennis on the ride, saying they made a good team. He was good at reading people and figuring out their actual intentions, and she was good in front of the camera and, it turns out, at the negotiating table, since she didn't seem to know the meaning of fear and was willing to live back on the streets if she didn't get her way.
Along the way, Katherine ...collected... people. Mostly people who had been broken by life or the system... she provided them shelter and security and ...mostly a sense of routine... which mattered a lot for people who had been knocked around so much by life that they never knew what the next day would bring.
Dennis had joked that the Monterey villa was really Katherine's “Gamine Preserve' ...where kids who had been chewed up and spat out by an industry that viewed them as interchangeable objects could find stability and work on developing a sense of self ...and 'home'.
As much as I was becoming obsessed with the woman whose life I was living, I became immersed in the nearly fulltime job of being the public face of Katherine Keller.
One of the highlights of our European tour was a hastily improvised performance after a chance meeting with a principal of the Vienna Light Orchestra, a group of serious classical musicians who do 'popular music' in an orchestral tradition to introduce general audiences to the experience of classical music.
They'll do Coldplay and Amy Winehouse and music from current hit films, TV and musical theater and slip in a little light opera and baroque to expose their audience to a range of great music spanning centuries and hopefully broaden their musical palette to maybe get a little more of that 'classical' music.
Well, a group of us got to talking with the associate conductor at the meet and greet after our Salzburg screening, and he was gushing about how much he loved the film and how he would love to do a suite of music from the film. We were so taken with his enthusiasm, one thing led to another and we practically volunteered to do the 'Thornbirds Live' with him if he could get the orchestra's O.K.
Long story short, we had a meeting with the board ...actually, it felt more like an audition, but it was really that we were so enthusiastic that we were pitching ideas and demonstrating them by impromptu performance, kind of putting together the program as we went.
The enthusiasm was contagious, and pretty soon, they were pitching ideas to US!
In the end, it wasn't entirely Thornbirds, but lots of other film and stage musical numbers as well, thrown in to make a narrative that was a delirious mashup of Cabaret, Sound of Music, Rocky Horror, and Company! It was a tremendous amount of work and an unimaginable amount of fun.
Eoin, as well as Colleen McLagan, Cyril Whitestone and a number of 'serious' musical theater veterans Dez had lured to Hollywood to collect a big paycheck by being in his extravaganza, really surprised me by being quite willing to lovingly lampoon their film roles and poke gentle fun at their other body of serious stage work.
It was a shock to the audience, who quickly got into the spirit of fun. To say the response was enthusiastic was an understatement. I doubt the esteemed venue where the light orchestra played had ever hosted such a boisterous audience, or such a bawdy band of performers! Eoin even ad-libbed a few one liners from the Marx Brothers' 'A Night at the Opera' to absolute howls from the captivated crowd.
This was a one-time performance done on a whim and a prayer by the increasingly playful cast. As we traveled the continent on our 'press junket' we really did bond into a little family. We shared the same road weariness and slightly punchy sense of humour a whirlwind tour engenders. Our Vienna stage experience brought us all closer, and I'm certain, will be among everyone's most cherished memory of our European tour.
The lowest point in the tour came almost immediately after. We were in Stockholm when Mikey searched me down.
“I think we have a problem.”
I furrowed my brow. I had no idea what he could be talking about, but my mind immediately groped for possible 'problems'.
“Kathrine?”
He shook his head. “Worse. Kevin.”
I stared blankly.
“Uncle Kevin?”
“Oh, shit.”
“You got that right ….Katherine.” Mikey scowled.
Fortunately for Mikey, Kevin was no blood of his. We were related through my mother, where Kevin was my dad's older brother and the notorious 'black sheep' of the family. Mikey had met him at our house and privately expressed his condolences to me that I was his nephew. Kevin had left home when he was 17 and went on the road following his favorite football team. He eventually ended up in Europe where he learned from the rowdiest hooligans how to show his allegiance to his team, and hooked up with various people who somehow provided him with a means to survive. None of us knew how he made a living. None of us really wanted to. Even my dad was uncharacteristically quiet when it came to 'uncle Kevin'. He was the relative no one talked about.
And now, he'd hunted us down. And talked with Mikey.
“He wants to see us. Seems he found out through your dad that we were traveling with the Thornbirds press tour, and he wants to get together. To 'see blood' he said.”
I snorted. “Of course he wants to see blood. He always wants to see blood. My dad told me stories.”
“Well, it seems like he wanted to see family. ....To see blood.”
“Yeah.” I snorted. “Leave it to Kevin to phrase it such a way that it could be taken two ways – and was probably meant both!”
“So, what are we going to do cuz? I don't think I can put him off. And, let's face it. You're not exactly the nephew he remembers.”
Dennis, God bless him, outdid himself. While I marvel recalling what he did to turn me into a passable Katherine Keller that night before the world premiere, I am in complete AWE at the extremes he went to to make me a passable L.C McGuiness after months of 24/7 Katherine-ness.
It still wasn't totally convincing, but we counted on the fact that 'Uncle Kevin' would be half-pissed when he met me, and wouldn't notice the ….discrepancies.
It was so bizarre …. taking shavings from my legs and pits and spirit-gumming them to my cheeks to resemble stubble... I hadn't realized how much slimmer I had become eating Katherine's healthy diet and actually following the direction of her personal trainer (which Dennis assured me, she did NOT). I felt great, but I was far thinner, and ...I must concede... far more ...feminine... than even the gaunt, gangly L.C. uncle Kevin remembered.
Dennis, once appraised of my dilemma, called on his network of friends in Hollywood special effects for a 'muscle chest' like those halloween superhero costumes but much more professionally done, worn under a sweatshirt to at least make me appear somewhat macho for uncle Kevin. He even wrangled some 'gloves and sleeves' made by the guys who did Tom Cruises' Les Grossman makeup in Tropic Thunder. I hadn't seen the movie, but he showed me some jpegs. I began to think this actually might work.. and best of all, since I would be wearing hairy, stubby silicone 'gloves' I didn't have to even try to do anything with my slender manicured fingers... not that I think any other approach would have worked. I was still gaunt, but I was always wiry, so I figured he'd ignore that.
I was surprised at how hard I had to work to not appear ….'femmy'... being Katherine came shockingly easy to me. I just put myself in the mindset, felt the clothing on my frame, the aroma of the cologne or even shampoo and skin products in my nostrils and everything flowed from there. There was surprisingly little conscious thought involved. I just 'clicked in' to Katherine-mode and everything seemed to flow naturally. Getting BACK to 'native (L.C.) mode' proved unexpectedly daunting.
The day arrived, and I headed off to meet uncle Kevin at the Brass Whistle – an 'English Style' pub in Antwerp. I really did feel like an imposter. The pungent 'guy' body spray felt like an assault on my nostrils, and even Mikey admitted, was more than L.C. would have used. As were the rather funky ...ok, rancid/sweaty Steelers sweatshirt, cargoes and positively ratty sneakers. I felt more like I was masquerading as uncle Kevin than L.C. But Mikey insisted – and Dennis agreed, if half of what we said about Kevin was true, it was much better to over-play things than to under-play. So, off I went with Mikey and Dennis – who insisted on meeting uncle Kevin and tagged along to the Brass Whistle. I felt like an extra from a Guy Ritchie film... and more than a little anxious. I found myself thinking that I really could use one of Dr Dale's 'mellow focus' shots right about now.
When we got to the Brass Whistle, it wasn't hard to find Uncle Kevin. We just listened for the commotion.
“Aw, C'mon luv.... you and yer friends came here for a taste of England... I'll give you a taste of England yerl never forget!”
I have to give her credit.... she kept her cool in spite of the full Kevin assault.
“What is it you English say?..... 'sod off'?” She said with what sounded like a scandinavian lilt and smiled coyly. Her friends all giggled.
“Ahhh piss off, you stuck up twat. I was just being neighborly.” Then his eye got that lewd gleam I knew so well. “Your loss. Coulda had some real bangers and mash!” he yelled after them, punctuating it with an obscene thrust.
“Uncle Kevin, I presume?” Dennis whispered to me. I just scowled and nodded slightly.
He turned back to the bar and bellowed.... “Oi!! ...EMPTY...." and started pounding his mug on the bar.
It may have been an 'English-style' pub, but the Belgian staff seemed at a loss on how to handle Kevin. I knew if this was a real English pub, he'd likely be dusting the street off his arse as he cursed and walked away. Maybe that's why he was hanging out in Belgium.
Mikey & I exchanged anxious looks and walked up to the bar. I sidled up to his right while Mikey took his left. Apparently this was not a wise move. He reflexively tensed and I saw his hands ball up into fists. I guess he was used to being surrounded. I hoped I could act fast enough.
“Hi!” I said as friendly and non-threatening as I could, and plastered a big smile on my face.
His hands quickly relaxed, and as he squinted, a stupid grin broke onto his face. I think I avoided being sucker-punched.
“'Ello there!” he leered. I'm not sure if he was putting on a cartoon-English accent for the Belgians or whether he had just been hanging with his hooligan friends so long, he picked up an affectation.
His leer faded as he squinted to get a good look at me. I don't know whether it was the dim light or whether he was really pissed, but he seemed to keep trying to focus his eyes, cocking his head like a confused animal and searching my face, and then, really uncomfortably scanning me toes to top. I was beginning to doubt he was going to figure it out on his own, whether it was the alcohol or just because he was Kevin....
“Hey uncle Kevin.... Been quite a while, eh?”
He squinted some more and I could see the rusty wheels turning. I think he finally figured it out when he jerked back and yelled “fuck ME!”
I half expected the entire pub to yell, “for the LAST time, NO!” which made me smirk. I quickly bit my lip, and said quietly “I don't think that's happening tonight... for either of us.”
“Jesus fuck! LC? Fuck boy. I thought you.....” then I think he realized what he was about to say, and how that would make both of us look, and thought better of it.
“Been a few years” I forced a smile.
“Fuck yeah. Stand up straight boy.”
I complied.
“Jesus fuck you're tall. You always were a spindly little shit... but ...christ.”
I kind of figured out by now that the bulk of his vocabulary involved taking the lord's name in vain.
“Yeah... well... had a growth spurt since you last saw me.”
“Fuck yeah. Well, not so much grew... looks like you just stretched out. What the christ are you... nine stone?” with that he lunged, wrapped his arms around the bottom of my ribcage and yanked me off my feet.
“Hey!” I didn't have to fake being startled. He was fast. Something told me the rest of this move usually involved flinging the subject spine-first into a bar or snooker table.
He put me down. “Jesus fuck boy. Don't anyone fucking feed you?”
I dusted myself off and tried to get back on the rails. “Uncle Kevin” I smiled and shook my head. “Most folks would just shake hands.”
“Well, I ain't 'most folks'” he crowed, uttering the phrase 'most folks' with the disdain others would save for the rest of his vocabulary. “And you is BLOOD. Eh?”
I nodded and hoped I was successfully hiding my discomfort.
“OK then.... You remember my cousin Michael?”
Kevin turned to his left as Mikey smiled apprehensively and nodded slightly. Kevin grabbed him by the shoulders and twisted him from side to side looking him over. Then he gave him a hard punch in the shoulder which I think was intended as a playful tap, but Mikey's wince reminded me how rough Kevin played.
“Oi! Good to see there's some men in the family, if only on yer mum's side.” He shot me a leer I couldn't ...or didn't want to... read.
“And who's yer little black friend here? This yer boyfriend?”
Dennis' eyebrow shot up and I knew he was about to say 'Excuse ME?' I warned him to be ready for anything, and I'm sure he thought he was... but the actual Kevin experience always exceeds expectations.
“This is our friend and coworker.... Dennis Graniere... Katherine Keller's P.A.” I quickly interjected.
“Her ….PA?...” he loudly whispered. “How old IS he? I didn't know she was bla...”
Dennis began to laugh, thinking uncle Kevin was making a joke. He really didn't know Kevin.
“Personal Assistant.... P.....A.....” I explained.
“Oh. Din't think she was black.” he studied Dennis through his rheumy eyes. “Yeah. Din't think he was old enough”
“....thank you?...” Dennis replied, clearly unsure what to make of uncle Kevin. Behind Kevin we could see Mikey grinning... as if to say 'See? We tried to tell you but you had to see it yourself.'
Again I tried to steer the conversation back onto the rails.
“So, uncle Kevin.... What brings you to Antwerp?”
“Ehhhh..... just time to ...stretch me legs.... change o pace 'n all that”
Right. Until whoever was looking for him got off the scent or moved on.
“So, how long you boys here for?”
“In town or....” Mikey asked, knowing where this was going.
“Well. Yeah. Sure. I wus finkin'.... they put you up in really posh hotels 'n such, eh? Lot's o room fer one more, wot?”
“Actually, we're heading out tonight... have to be packed and ready by 7, so we...” Dennis added, looking at his watch. He saw where this was headed too. He was a quick study.
“Yeah...” I said sheepishly “we have to make the plane to...” my mind was working furiously “Kiev. We have a thing there, then it's on to Odessa.... St Petersburg... “ I guessed that by indicating that we were leaving the E.U. He wouldn't be able to leech along. His face fell, so I think I guessed right.
“Shit. Oh.....” then his eyes brightened and I could see the new scheme coming together in his mind. “Well.... then.... could you see your way clear to spot me a few.....”
We all stared at him. Waiting.
“....thousand?”
“Thousand?!?” my voice came out louder than I expected.
“Pounds?!?” Mikey shot back. He was as stunned as I. Dennis just looked at all three of us, stonefaced. He was NOT getting involved in this.
“Noooo.... nah.....” Kevin waved his hand dismissively. “Just Euros.... Three should do it.”
“Three thousand Euros? GOD, Kevin!” I was incensed. And I realized in that unguarded moment, I sounded exactly like Katherine! I glanced at Dennis, and his joey-in-the-headlamps stare betrayed that he caught it too. Fortunately Kevin was too busy thinking of his rebuttal or too pissed to notice.
“Jesus fuck boy! Those hollywood wankers wipe their arses with thousand dollar bills... after they snort their coke through them.... No offense mate.” he nodded to Dennis.
“Already taken” Dennis replied with a curt nod. Which Kevin ignored.
“Christ Renzo... if blood can't count on blood.... what the fuck's the point? Help yer old Uncle out here. ...after all I did fer you.....”
I remembered. First I remembered how he used to call me 'renzo' which I hated and still do... maybe even more after all these years. I remember how he 'taught me how to fight' ….by constantly beating the piss out of me and yelling 'defend yersef! Defend yerself ya little poof!' Finally when they saw the bruises at school and called my parents in for a conference with some social welfare people, uncle Kevin wasn't allowed to 'play with me' anymore. Yes. It was all coming back. And the most important thing I recalled, was that the best outcome of an encounter with uncle Kevin was always to somehow get him to go someplace else.
“I don't have that much on me.” I shrugged.
“Actually, we're just traveling with the entourage.” Mikey added. “They're picking up hotels, meals, taxis and stuff... we don't really get paid....”
“Until after the tour.” Dennis jumped. Kevin was getting triple-teamed. “It's a lump sum at the end.”
I knew they were trying to help, but I also knew the most important thing was to get Kevin to go away.
“Three thousand is an awful lot of money.” I brushed the hair back from my brow, and thought 'did I do that like an exasperated guy, or did I do it like Katherine?' Kevin just stared like a hungry animal waiting to be fed. “Ummm... I think I can come up with twenty five hundred in a day or two.”
“A day or two.....” He stared. Then he let out a big breath of air. “OK. I guess I can wait in the lobby of yer hotel for a day or two.” then he sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
Like choreography, Dennis, Mikey and I all reached into our pockets to see how much we had on us. We came up with € 172 between us. I promised Kevin I'd get the rest to him within a day. He took a napkin and scribbled an address in Brixton to send the money. Then he grabbed another napkin. He wrote £2500. I scribbled out the Pound sign and replaced it with the Euro symbol. I was going to subtract the €172 from the amount, but I was too tired to do the subtraction and I knew the fight over it would only prolong our encounter with Kevin. He scowled as I scratched out the Pound symbol, then tensed when I added the minus sign and began entering 172 beneath the 2500. I looked him in his glaring eyes and, pokerfaced, scratched out the 172. He nodded curtly.
“Sign it.” he said.
“Seriously?”
His look said it all.
“So much for blood...” I laughed bitterly and signed it. He snatched the napkin back and turned to leave. The barman came over but Kevin didn't even turn around.
“They'll take care of it!” he yelled over his shoulder as he plowed his way through the crowd and out of the pub.
Mikey Dennis and I just looked at each other. Then at the expectant barman. We had just given Kevin every cent we had.
“Well, now you've had the Uncle Kevin experience” I laughed to Dennis as we walked back to our hotel.
“Did it live up to your expectations?” Mikey asked playfully.
Dennis just shook his head. “If I didn't experience it for myself, I'd swear you two were exaggerating” he laughed.
“Trust me. No one could make up uncle Kevin.” I chuckled
“Only God!” Mikey said.
“...or maybe the other guy?” Dennis raised one eyebrow. All three of us broke into guffaws.
“Thank God you had the presence of mind to call the hotel. If the barman hadn't taken Eoin's card, I don't know what we'd do! We could be washing dishes until next Christmas...”
“Or doing time in a Belgian prison...” Mikey smiled.
Dennis looked at Mikey “Do they even have Belgian prisons? It seems so ...quaint.”
“Let's not find out....” I smiled.
“I can see it now...” Mikey said. Uh oh. He was getting all fanboy again. He leapt in front of us, legs spread apart, arms reaching to the sky, stretching out an imaginary marquee. “Katherine Keller in..... Antwerp Express!”
I snorted out a laugh and slapped his arm playfully. Then I noticed everyone staring at us. I wasn't sure if they were staring at the boisterous fanboy acting out movie marquees or the lanky boy who just giggled and slapped his arm with the back of her hand. Either way, I didn't care to find out. We all just put our heads down and walked with great focus back to our hotel. I was counting each step until I could get out of this ridiculous disguise and relax.
My mind churned on that thought... 'This ridiculous disguise'. ...'This ridiculous L.C. Disguise.'
Wait. What?
Scowl.
When we finally got back to the hotel, I found I couldn't wait to wash the boy off.
“I need a serious soak!” I yelled to Dennis as I made a beeline for my suite.
“Amen girl!” Dennis laughed as he headed for his own room.
Instead of just filling the tub, I felt I really needed a 'Silkwood shower'.... I scrubbed and rubbed myself raw, thinking of Kevin and remembering all the things he had done to me and everyone else in the family. I wanted to scrub away any association with him. Finally I was red and raw and sobbing in the shower, and I suddenly could see myself as if I was outside myself. I thought 'snap out of it! It's his problem. Not yours. Don't beat yourself up. Screw him. You deserve better.' ...and with that, I stopped up the drain, got the bath oils and candles, and started filling the tub.
'Why marinate in misery when you can soak in splendor?' I thought to myself as I sank down into the delicious steaming water and watched the bubbles from my nose rise and burst on the surface.
It was a near spiritual experience, and sorely needed after the Kevin encounter. The near-scalding water made the tension in my neck and shoulders just melt away, and the sweet aroma of jasmine and citrus swept away any memory of that horrid body spray as the relaxing oils soaked into my pores.
I spent way too much time in the tub, and was really starting to prune when I reluctantly dragged myself out of the soothing waters and wrapped the quilted robe around me.
I lazily padded out into my bedroom and flipped open my laptop to catch up on the outside world.
Matt's email quickly snapped me out of my languid reverie.
Major breakthrough. Must talk. ASAP.
I was on Skype before I even stopped to think what time it was. Fortunately it was mid-afternoon in L.A. and Matt answered immediately. I think he'd been expecting my call.
“Katherine! … I mean Els... umm... are you alone?”
I laughed. “Katherine's fine. Yes I'm alone. But let's just keep it Katherine. I think that works best for all situations.”
“OK. Hey. I think I hit something big. I think I finally followed the right guy.”
“her agent?” he shook his head “...HauteShot's CFO?” more head shakes “marketing guy? Licensing? Legal counsel? web designer?” he kept shaking his head as his grin grew wider. “Who then? Her manicurist? Nutritionist? Her rabbi? ...gyno...?”
“SO close!” he laughed. This wasn't helping at all. I just gave him a lost look.
“Dale Coughlin!” he beamed.
“DOCTOR Dale?” I gaped at him with incredulity.
“The guy who keeps coming by to shoot me up with god-knows WHAT? THAT Dale Coughlin???”
He nodded, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Oh my God. How? Where? What's going on? How is he holding her?”
“I'm not so sure that he is holding her. He has a lot of clients. He's a very busy dude. All on the west coast. But I noticed from his cellphone records at least two weekends a month, he's been checking in from the East coast. That seemed odd for him, so I looked closer. Tracked his GPS to New England. Then I had a guy who knows a guy send another guy to the places where Doctor Dale's cellphone pinged in. Check these out....”
And his webcam image in the Skype window was replaced by a series of photos of a figure in a bulky jacket, chinos, ball cap and sunglasses entering and leaving a house. Then some pictures of them puttering around the lawn, fiddling with the hedges and plants, and checking the mailbox.
“Just one person. Seemingly alone. No security. No minions. Nothing. Just one lone soul.”
I recognized that silhouette immediately. I saw it in the mirror every morning.
“Oh my GOD!” my hand flew to my mouth.
“Jackpot!” Matt crowed.
The European tour was nearly finished, but after I filled Dennis in on Matt's discovery, he collaborated with me to feign a severe case of what seemed to be norovirus, and Katherine – and her entourage – were excused from the last 10 days of the press tour, to take the gulfstream back home and recuperate. ...also sparing the rest of the company from coming in contact with this possibly highly contagious digestive scourge.
I apologized profusely to Dez. Dennis later said I gave a better performance Skyping Dez than Katherine ever had in any of her films. I genuinely felt bad ditching my comrades on this press junket. It had sort of become the 'what will the unstable starlet do next' tour... yet my colleagues long ago twigged that it was really just a devilishly devious publicity ruse. I felt badly about leaving all my 'straight men' alone to finish the publicity tour without the mad honey badger that garnered all the press. Still, they were very gracious about it. I also think they dreaded catching the acutely mortifying illness that I seemed to have contracted. While they would miss what I contributed to the PR blitz, I think they were relieved to be far from my alleged malady.
The acutely embarrassing illness also proved handy for getting our pilot to make an unscheduled landing in Worcester Massachusetts while I sought 'medical relief'. Matt met us at the airport, and we drove across the border to the sleepy little exurb of Putnam Connecticut.
I had no idea what I would do once I got there, but that didn't stop me from making a beeline straight to the house.
I was quickly introduced to Lucas, the guy who had been monitoring the house and originally grabbed the stills of the reclusive Katherine. I complimented him on his stealth and his photographic skills. Matt kidded him that he needed to ditch the thankless P.I. work and become a well paid celebrity bane as a papparazzo.
He seemed simultaneously flattered and embarrassed by our attention. It only made me respect him more.
“So she's home?”
“Hasn't left since day before yesterday. Yep. She's in there.”
I just got out of his car and walked to her front door. What the hell was I thinking? I didn't know yet. But I was sure I would - when the time came. I knocked.
And waited.
And knocked again.
I could sense her presence behind the door. Somehow I felt that she could see me. I don't know if there was some surveillance system that I was unaware of, or a peephole I hadn't noticed. But I had the distinct, unshakable feeling that I was being watched. And appraised.
Suddenly the door flew open and I was face to face with my doppelganger.
Or original.
I could only stare.
And she stared back.
While she seemed to look at my face... actually look through my face, as if focusing on somewhere behind me, I knew she was sizing me up from toes to top. Yet I could discern nothing from those cold, unblinking eyes.
“About fucking time” she said matter of factly.
I mutely stared back, Trying to process everything.
She turned from the open doorway and walked into the house.
I hesitated only a moment before following.
“May I?” I inquired reflexively.
Her shoulders shrugged, back still to me. “Be kind of pointless to come all this way and not.”
I was flying blind. At full speed.
She went to the living room and sat on a couch. I glanced at a chair, and, sensing no objection from her, sat.
We stared at each other silently. For an uncomfortably long time.
I guess she won, because I went first.
“OK. Who goes first?”
She shrugged. And said nothing. So I guess it's me.
While I was busy formulating, she spoke.
“When Dale first told me about you, I thought 'there's no way this will work'”
I was at a total loss for how to respond, so I just looked at her. After a painful silence, she continued.
“But you fooled us all.”
I just blushed.
“You not just pulled it off. You fucking ran with it.” She stared at me. I felt like a specimen under a microscope. “Well done” she nodded. Expressionless,
I shrugged humbly.
“And am I to understand correctly.. you're not even actually female?”
I went crimson.
She made a sound. If I were forced to guess, I'd describe it as some sort of choked, bitter laugh. She stood up and left the room.
I was unsure whether I was expected to follow her. She gave no signal. I quickly observed that she was really, really difficult to read. I now understood how she made everyone ill at ease. Yet I sensed it was nothing deliberate. I remembered Dennis talking about her 'emotional palette'.... I decided it consisted of black, white, a little gray and possibly maybe a little brownish gray. 'Pretty sparse palette' I chuckled to myself.
While I was busy pondering all this, and remaining seated, Katherine returned with a bottle of water and sat back on the sofa, resuming her expressionless staring at me. I was beginning to get an idea about this. So I just looked her in the eyes.
She caught my gaze and quickly averted her eyes. Turning them to her hands and the bottle of water she was holding.
“There's water in the kitchen. Help yourself.” She said to the air between us.
“Thanks. I'm good.” I replied, much more calmly than I felt. My physical presence was nearly as still and expressionless as hers, but my neutral body language and expression was quite deliberate on my part, and extremely difficult to pull off since my mind was whirring at a thousand miles an hour.
I really had no clue how to proceed. But looking across at her, I knew she was going to do nothing. Either the next move was mine, or I would just stand up and leave. Somehow I knew either path would be the same to her. I could read nothing from her. Not that there was nothing there. I'd heard enough 'war stories'... I knew she was quite capable of displaying emotion, and something told me there was something going on behind those evasive eyes, but I couldn't begin to parse what it was. It was like looking at a book in a foreign language with an entirely different character set. I knew there was meaning there. And I knew I didn't have the remotest chance of figuring it out.
Somehow that gave me the courage to proceed. Since there seemed to be no 'right' way to proceed, I figured any choice was as good as another.
“You look well.” I said.
She sat back and regarded me again. This did not get any more comfortable the longer it went on.
I felt the need to keep talking, just because the silence was excruciating. “...I mean, I had been told... um, everyone talked about the ...um... incident with the....”
“Boxter. Yeah yeah...” she waved her hand. “Dale's idea.”
Finally she says something! I scowled involuntarily. She was talking, but only making things more cryptic. I waited.
“Well, the actual accident... I was really tired... fucking exhausted... another round of sucking up to suits, and I think one of them slipped me something.”
“Slipped you something?” I made no effort to hide my surprise. I sensed jaded amusement.
“Yeah, yeah” she waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “Old story. Anyway, I started to feel it and split.”
I just stared at her. From stonefaced to true confessions in the blink of an eye?
“I needed some air, so I went for a drive.”
“After you thought you had been ..drugged? ...Roofied???”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'm used to it. Actually, by now I have a really high tolerance... those assholes never figure that.... So, I'm driving, and I'm exhausted and a little dull around the edges, and just so fucking sick of the same old shit over and over... I was trying so fucking hard. Do you know how hard I worked on that Goddamn accent?”
I shook my head. I didn't think she had worked on it at all.
“I was just so ….fed up.... I really decided that none of it was worth it....”
“You tried to kill yourself???” I nearly shouted.
“No.” she cocked her head and shot me a look like 'where did you get that idea?' Then I saw her refocus. “I was really really pissed.... and frustrated.... and so goddamned, fucking ….exhausted.... and starting to feel....”
“...Dull around the edges...” I felt I was beginning to get on her wavelength.
She nodded.
“The top was down, and the night air was brisk. It helped...”
“...the dulling...” I said. She looked at me and I caught this strange expression. Somehow I sensed she felt like she was having an inner dialog with a disembodied copy of herself. That weirded me out too, and at that moment I knew she saw it in me as well.
“So, I punched it. ….do you know how fast those things can go?”
“I can imagine.”
“Can you? Really? The strangest thing is there's very little ...sensation... of speed from behind the wheel. ….until you try to slow or turn.”
I felt I was beginning to understand what really happened.
“Well, the curve was really sharp. I mean, who makes a road like that?”
“I heard it was a cul-de-sac”
“Whatever. Anyway. Next thing I know I'm in some asshole's pool. His fucking gas grill nearly took my head off. It's surprising how long it takes a Boxter to sink. Anyway, I got out, but my bag with the phone was...”
I started to finish her sentence, but she cut me off.
“at the bottom of the pool. Yeah. So I dragged myself out of the pool. No one helped. They all just stood and stared, holding their paper plates..... So I walked through the sliding doors into the house. I asked someone where the phone was and called Dale.”
OK. All the facts matched the sensational stories I heard, but hearing it from Katherine, through her eyes... it was a very different story. Still alarming, but in an entirely different way.
“So I called Dale. And he called the suits. And the cops came. And Dale and some studio lackey got me out... and “
“Into rehab.” I nodded. She shook her head.
“Cover story. Dale knew I really needed to unplug. He kept telling me after wrapping 'Birds I needed to clear my calendar. The studio assholes knew it was a cover too, but they didn't want anyone asking just how I got those drugs in my system, so they just bought Dale's bullshit at face value.”
“So no rehab?”
“Well.... Check in at a ...facility outside Ashland Oregon. Very private. Very discreet. Cops and suits got copies of the admission papers and were happy. I got time to step away from all the bullshit. After a week or so, Dale came to get me. He found this place. Client of his had done theater and commercial work in New York, but was now working mostly in L.A. and B.C.... so he moved his family out. Sublet his condo in Manhattan but didn't want to sell their Connecticut place. So everybody won. And here I am. Not missing the bullshit at all. And keeping up with reports. On you.”
Oh crap. I couldn't help but squirm.
“And apparently, I'm also….looking well.” she said with what could have been the slightest smile.
“And YOU.” she looked right through me. I think I went white.
“Take your shoes off.” She said it with such authority I didn't question this odd directive.
“Stand.”
I complied. She slowly circled around me. Like some sort of predatory animal. She grabbed me by the wrist and circled her fingers around them. She then stuck her hand against mine... her right, my left. It looked like a person praying. ONE person praying. ….she continued to walk around me. She stepped against my back. I felt her butt pressing into mine as she tilted her head back until it touched the back of mine. She stepped away and continued to circle.
“Shit.”
She said nothing more for the longest time.
“I'm looking well, huh?” ….I nodded... “Well, shit. You're looking ….” I think she was groping for words.... “A hell of a lot more than well.”
I laughed nervously.
“Where the hell did they find you?”
“Well... I ran into Dez in the hotel lobby... I was soaked from getting caught....”
“No. NO. Not the cover story.... We all heard the creation myth.... the real story.”
“No. That's really how it happened. Who could make this stuff up?”
“You'd be surprised” she said. Then she regarded me for a while.
“So you really were in town after winning a lookalike contest?”
“No! Contest yes. Lookalike? No. My cousin won a national contest from a TV network back home and he's only 17 so I was sent along as his plus one.. then I met Dez and...”
“So you're NOT an impersonator?”
“NO!” Then I thought about it. “Well, I guess I am now.... but no. I had no idea I looked anything like you.”
“How could you NOT know?”
“That's what everyone keeps asking. It was never on my radar. Certainly not that I looked like anyone else. Let alone someone famous. ...a famous woman.... I'd never even worn women's clothes!”
“So it's true. You are a male.” she shook her head slowly trying to digest this notion.
“Never really much of one, truth be told....” I replied with embarrassment.
That evoked a strangled, guttural sound and a look I couldn't read. She regarded me for a moment and waved her hand dismissively. “Well, I was always a piss-poor excuse for a woman.... all the tutors and finishing schools couldn't change that. No matter. I made it work. ….and you do too.”
My anxiety finally began to fade. I sensed that she was OK with things. More than OK. That somehow I had stumbled into some elaborate scheme, and that she and Doctor Dale were the puppetmasters. Or at least co-conspirators.
“I just have one question...” I began.
“Only one?”
“Well, to START....” I shifted nervously, not sure how to broach the subject. I decided to do what I imagined Katherine would do and just plunged in, diplomacy be damned.
“What the hell is IN those shots he keeps giving me?”
“You'll have to ask him that.” and she looked away. I thought she glanced at the front hall, and I half expected him to walk down the stairs as if on cue. Then I realized that I was being ridiculous. Katherine seemed a bit disappointed also that we didn't have that soap opera moment where the subject appears from nowhere right on cue. She sat back down. So I did too.
“So what now?” I asked. She shrugged.
“We wait.”
“For what?” All I got from Katherine was pokerface. I was pretty sure it wasn't waiting for Putnam's finest to haul me away for trespassing. Then I started to think about 'Putnam's finest'....
“So how do you like it here in the real world?” I smiled.
She shrugged. “I'm not so sure it is the real world. It's very storybook. Kind of the way everyone imagines a quaint New England town. Definitely doesn't seem like the real world.”
“Well... it's been so long since you've been in the real world.....” as the words were leaving my mouth, I thought of what I did know about Katherine's past. Feral street kid, plucked up by an ambitious photographer and near overnight sensation... the world of modeling, world travel, runway shows, appearances in music videos... coming to Hollywood as an already bankable superstar with all the unwelcomed attention that goes with it. As far as I knew, her only life experiences were surviving on the street and the surreal model experiences. I presumed that whatever preceded her homelessness had to be at least as rough as the streets she sought refuge in. So to her, was the 'real world' everything she experienced prior to being 'discovered'? No wonder a sleepy little town seemed just as surreal.
“No. Sorry. I spoke out of turn. I think I get it.”
She just cocked her head at me quizzically. I think she was trying to work out how I could possibly 'get it'.
We were startled by the doorbell. I figured it was Dennis and Matt checking to make sure Katherine hadn't killed her clone or something. Katherine seemed to be expecting this too, since she calmly rose and walked to the door.
“About fucking TIME!” I heard her declare. I smirked and wondered if this was how she answered the door for everyone.
Dennis and Matt came in followed by a really shy Mikey and...
“Doctor DALE?” I couldn't hide my shock. Even though I had somehow expected him to materialize on cue when Katherine and I talked about him earlier. I tried to form a coherent question, but too many poured from my brain, colliding horribly like a slapstick troupe trying to storm a revolving door.
“What.... How are you.. I mean... did you... WHAT THE HELL?”
He just smiled and and put up his hand... and with a twinkle in his eye, said “calm down young lady. Don't make me give you another shot....” I knew he was kidding, but it still made me shudder. And snapped me out of it.
“When I heard about you canceling the last week of Europe, I got just a little suspicious... oh, you played it well.... I'm just attuned to this sort of thing.... having arranged so many myself....”
And I caught him shoot a warm glance at Katherine.
“So I got a hold of your flight plan and thought there was a chance you might be up to what you actually were up to....” He nodded at Dennis and me. “Well planned and deftly executed.” He looked around to make sure we were still following.
“So I called Katherine and told her my suspicions.” He chortled “...and her response was..”
I cut him off by loudly declaring “About fucking TIME!” in my 'Katherine voice' that was SO spot on, I even kind of surprised myself. But the expressions on everyone's faces was priceless! Everyone but Katherine, that is. She had an expression on her face too. One I read as 'TOO real...'
I quickly smiled and let out a nervous giggle to break the tension. That got us kind of back on track, although I think everyone – myself included – was a bit rattled by my Katherine impression.
“Right...” Doctor Dale continued hesitantly. “So I caught the first plane out to try to intercept you when you landed. Only I thought you'd be flying into Hartford.”
“Worcester was easier. It's just a G5, so we didn't need a big airport, and it's more discreet.” Dennis said.
“Good points. Your plan was better than I'd surmised. ..So... I'm in my hotel in Hartford when I get a call from Katherine that you're knocking on her front door.”
“I didn't see the bell....” for some reason I felt really foolish over this utterly unimportant random oversight.
“Well, that's not the point. YOU were here, and I was still in Hartford. So I told her to stall you and got here as quickly as I could.”
“You told KATHERINE to stall?” Dennis guffawed. Then he shot her a really contrite look.
“Oh, god I'm so sorry!”
I could tell, as if I didn't already know, how much he truly cared for her.
For her part, she just shrugged. “Kind of my reaction too.” Then she looked at me.... “But it went OK. ….We talked.”
This stunned everyone. I think she could have said 'we smoked meth and sacrificed neighborhood pets' and they would have been less surprised.
“You TALKED?” Dennis stared at Katherine. He was still trying to process this. “....About WHAT?”
“Oh, just this and that” I volunteered, trying to make it seem mundane and not as supremely weird and out of character as it obviously was.
“Just girl talk.” I smiled at Katherine. For just the briefest moment we made eye contact, and I got the distinct feeling she approved of my explanation.
It was still a weird moment, and I think everyone was eager to change the subject, so Dr Dale took over hosting duties – since I think he knew Katherine would let us all stand in the foyer for hours.
“Shall we adjourn to the living room?”
We all sat uncomfortably, just glancing from one to the other for the longest time.
Dennis was regarding Katherine with the warmest smile in his eyes. By all accounts, she made his life hell, but he truly seemed to have been worried about her. The relief and … affection in his eyes said it all. I was now convinced he was her 'brother from another mother'. His virtual older sister, whom he adored ….and slightly feared.
Mikey was all wide-eyed fanboy. Regarding Katherine like a wildlife photographer who had just stumbled across a mythical beast. To him, Katherine was like a unicorn... or something more dangerous.... maybe a gryphon. I stifled a snort as the thought 'Kathy Gryphon' flashed into my mind before I quickly swatted it. Mikey was in fanboy nirvana, no doubt composing the juicy chapter of the tell-all book he'd never be allowed to write.
Matt was harder to read. I think he was filled with mixed emotions. Pleased that he'd solved 'the mystery'. Perhaps thinking how many of his former colleagues would kill to be where he is now, and maybe pained that he had given his word that he put that world behind him, knowing how much he could cash in on this. His eyes darted between Katherine and me. I think he was sizing us up. Comparing us. And maybe I'm just projecting, but I got the sense that he was looking more fondly at me.
Doctor Dale seemed be to sitting back, appraising the situation – much like I was. Clinically eyeing everyone in the room.... observing their body language, their facial expressions and their eyes. I also picked up that he noticed we both were doing the very same thing by his slight smile as he regarded me in his scanning of the group.
Katherine was unreadable. Just as I expected. I instantly understood her reputation as the toughest negotiator in a profession known for its hardball tactics and sharklike behaviour. Her face and body language betrayed nothing. She seemed to be taking in the whole room, yet looking at nothing in particular. I could see how that could really rattle someone sitting across a negotiating table. She was also unbelievably ….still.... not a twitch or a rustle... while I knew she was not holding her breath, she was so motionless there was not even a hint of respiration from her chest or nostrils. It was eerie. And apparently I'm a freak too, because rather than finding this disturbing, I found it utterly fascinating.
I knew there was something going on behind those eyes. But it wasn't tumbleweeds in a desert. I reckoned it was more an alien landscape that no one else could even imagine, but one where Katherine felt perfectly at home and at ease.
I also got the distinct feeling that she was observing me observing her. I felt as if she could discern what I was thinking. I know that sounds silly, but it was one of the strongest feelings I ever had, and I believed it. I also felt that she didn't disapprove of my assessment, but was surprised that I made it. Then I came out of my little head-game when I noticed the nervous fidgeting and throat clearing from around the room. This little Mexican Standoff had gone on for a few minutes and everyone – except Katherine and I – were getting really uncomfortable.
I glanced at Katherine and her eyes briefly darted to mine then back to her zen gaze at the room. OK. She was not going to go. I guess it was up to me.
“So, what now?” I asked Dr Dale. Everyone startled slightly at the sudden sound in the eerily quiet room.
He looked at me. Unsure of the question.
“I mean. Do I go back home now?”
He nodded. “Yes. I guess that would make sense.”
“OK. So does the studio book our flight or do we do it ourselves? I may have trouble with the Passport” I grinned. “I don't look much like the picture anymore.”
Dr Dale was perplexed. “What? Pass.... oh! Home! ….You meant do you go back to Australia?”
I nodded. “What else?”
“Well, there's still the Asian leg in a few weeks and you did sign an open-ended contract with non-negotiable pickup clause. I thought you meant back home to Monterey.”
“I thought Katherine would want her life back.”
“You're doing fine with it” she said to the air... I guess to the entire room. “I'm good here.”
“Don't you miss it?” I was stunned that she wanted the deception to continue... with her explicit blessing.
“If I missed it, I wouldn't be here. Nor would you.”
OK. That made perfect sense, and I felt foolish that I hadn't figured that out myself.
“So... what? I just 'be you' for the rest of the tour while you chill out here in pastoral Connecticut?”
“Works for me.” she said flatly. I looked at Dr Dale for ...a second opinion... he just looked at Katherine.... then at me....
“It wasn't supposed to play out this way. You were certainly not supposed to get all Veronica Mars on us and instigate a quest for Katherine, let alone actually find her. Once we saw you ace the premiere, and everything you did afterward.... we thought people might actually be relieved that Katherine was not around. People seemed much more fond of you, so we figured no one would be in any rush to look into Katherine's prolonged absence. LEAST of all you!”
I thought that was a very insulting thing to say about Katherine. Especially in front of Katherine. But when I looked for a reaction, her face remained impassive.
“I just felt like I was stealing her life. It ate away at me.”
“You weren't stealing my life. You were doing my chores. And I was getting a long overdue break.” she said flatly.
I felt immensely better.
This very strange encounter lasted only a few minutes longer. I did ask for, and willingly got, Katherine's contact info. We exchanged phone numbers and Skype IDs. I told her anytime she wanted her life back, to say the word. And asked if it would be alright to contact her now and then if I had a tricky question about being Katherine. She insisted that that was never going to happen, which was why she didn't hesitate to give me her contact info, certain that I'd never need to use it.
As we were leaving, I turned to Dr Dale.
“You caught a fast flight out here hoping to intercept me. Did you book a return trip?”
“It never got that far” he smiled.
“Well, I think we're heading your way. Care to hitch a ride on the gulfstream?”
He smiled at me as he walked over to his rental car and opened the trunk to show me his packed bags.
“You knew I was going to offer. Didn't you?”
He just smiled. “Why don't you ride with me to the plane and give the others some room?” he said loudly so Matt, Dennis and Mikey could hear as they walked to Matt's rental.
“You're a very perceptive person. And an uncanny judge of people.” I grinned.
“You too.” He leaned in and whispered to me. He regarded me with a look I couldn't gauge. If I didn't know any better, I'd mistake it for admiration. “You GET Katherine.... don't you?” he said quietly.
I nodded. “I think I'm beginning to.... You know, walk a mile in someone's shoes and all that.”
He shook his head. “No. It's not just familiarity with her world. There are people who have been with her... immersed in her world... for years ….and they still don't get her.”
I saw him glance at Dennis.
“I think you're underestimating people.” I smiled, clearly looking in Dennis' direction too. “I don't think they have sorted things out intellectually, but I think their heart, and their instincts have figured it out and they know just how to take her.”
He looked at me again for an uncomfortably long moment, and nodded once more. “I'll say it again. Bright girl.”
I think I blushed.
“....And intriguing.” He said as he slipped behind the wheel and pulled on his seatbelt.
“How so?” I asked, not so sure I wanted to hear the answer.
He waited until our doors were shut and we started following Matt to the airport.
“Well... this is the second or third time I've said 'bright girl' and every time you blush.”
“I'm not that bright.” I blushed again.
He laughed. “Oh, you're a delight. I wasn't commenting on your humility. I was observing that every time I said it, you reacted with discomfort to being called bright, but never once reacted to being referred to as a girl.”
“Oh.”
Yep. I'm bright all right. That was my brilliant response. My brain kind of locked as I tried to expand on that. I don't think Dr Dale expected anything more anyway, because he plowed right along.
“You are a gifted judge of people. I keep seeing it every time I pay you a visit. You know just how to handle the various personalities populating Katherine's complicated world......”
I proved to him I was not that modest by determinedly not blushing at that compliment.
“You see through facades and veneers and seem to bore right into people. It's kind of like that new age thing of people who claim to see auras... but the opposite.... you see right down to their core. ….you see right through to their true nature.”
OK. This was getting uncomfortably unctuous. I just fidgeted nervously with my seatbelt.
I sensed he was getting nervous too. He was very perceptive. Was my discomfort making him think twice about this conversation? Would he mercifully change the subject? He just kept glancing at me in his rear view mirror as we drove along, following Matt. There was a long awkward silence. Finally he just let out a deep breath of air.... a prolonged whooshing “pheeeeeeew” sound... like he had just finished a grueling sprint. ...or was steeling himself for something....
“Yet you obviously look in the mirror every day and don't see a thing.”
Huh?
“We'll talk on the plane.” he smiled as he reached over and patted me on the knee. “We'll have hours to chat uninterrupted. And right now I have to focus on my driving. Massachusetts drivers take all my concentration.”
We arrived at the plane in one piece, although I did have my doubts a few moments. I can't say I've never seen driving like that, but I can say that I've only seen it in videogames. After one white knuckle incident, I kiddingly asked Dr Dale if it was too late to ask him for another series of shots. He laughed politely and nodded. Then I reminded myself to seriously corner him about that once we were in the air.
Matt had suggested that Dennis call ahead and inform the pilots about our extra passengers and luggage. They seemed to appreciate the heads up but mentioned that they already took the unplanned layover to top up so we were good. I don't know if Matt's an aviation buff or just someone who is always thinking and good with the details. Either way, I found myself thinking 'he just keeps getting better and better'.
Then I quickly thought about something else.
I looked forward to getting “home” and thought about how I'd missed everyone at Casa Keller. I think we really warmed up to each other during my last stay. Initially, they didn't know what to make of me ...since I seemed to be Katherine, yet kept behaving in very un-Katherine like ways. Which, I learned, meant casually smiling, engaging in smalltalk and addressing them by their names. It all seemed to be just generally cordial behavior to me. Dennis took me aside and let me know how un-Katherine like I was being, but conceded that everyone seemed to relax a bit more around me, so maybe this could just keep with the 'change in meds' rumours, and I should keep it up in the interest of domestic harmony.
I found myself missing the great healthy meals, the little jousts with her personal trainer, running on the beach and visiting with the staff at the shops in town... and those often breathtaking ocean sunsets. I had to admit, I was glad that I got to 'be' Katherine Keller for a while longer. Then my mind wandered to the Asian leg of our press tour... and our visit to Oz. I knew there was no way we could avoid meeting up with Mikey's family, and by extension my mum and dad too. The run-in with uncle Kevin was bad enough. He hadn't seen L.C. In years and he was really drunk when we met up. Even then I had a hard time putting it over. I would never fool my folks.
Doctor Dale approached me on the plane and suggested that we retire to a far corner where there was a small surface and bench seats. I guess it was an all purpose dining station/desk/work area. It was really a sweet perk to have a corporate jet at our disposal, and again I marveled at the routine trappings of Katherine's world.
We made our excuses to Mikey, Matt and Dennis who paid us no notice. Matt and Dennis were busy one-upping each other with tabloid press war stories to a positively rapt Mikey.
“We really ought to talk.” Dr Dale said quietly as we sat down around the table.
I nodded. “Absolutely.” Then I wondered if his agenda was anywhere close to mine. “About what?”
He just smiled. “Everything”
I could only nod back in agreement. I thought for a moment at the enormity of the conversation ahead and reflexively let out a big breath. “....Where should we start? ….And who goes first?”
“Doesn't really matter.” He eyed me wickedly and with a gleam, waved an open palm and said “Ladies first.”
I snorted and glared at him. I knew what he was trying to do. He smirked and backed off.
“Alright then.” he smiled obsequiously “....age after beauty.”
“Not much better.” I made a point of scowling, hoping to hide my smile. “....fine.....”
He folded his hands and waited patiently. I tried mightily to harness whatever Katherine-ness I possessed, and tried to be as calmly intimidating and eerily focused as she could be. I stared intently at Dr Dale. Which, I realized later, was my 'tell'... because Katherine never made eye contact with anyone. Still, I was intense.... building up my emotional head of steam. I finally said, in what I hoped was my 'quietly menacing' voice... “What the hell is IN those shots???”
Doctor Dale exploded in laughter, which startled and utterly disarmed me.
“Oh.....” he struggled to catch his breath. “Oh my god..... sweetheart, you are precious!!!!”
I sat back and folded my arms tightly. Warring emotions of surprise, indignation and humiliation battled for dominance within me. Was he mocking me? Was he brushing me off as a 'stupid girl'? What the HELL??? I had a right to know, and I was deeply insulted that his response was laughter!
At the other end of the cabin, the others all stopped and turned to look at us, as Dr Dale just kept making dismissive waves with his arm while trying to recompose himself. I just sat there, tightly wrapped, and glowered at him.
“Oh. ...Oh my god. ….I'm sorry.... I just... god... I wasn't expecting...” slowly the hysterical convulsions settled to mere tremors and he was able to utter complete sentences.
“Oh, god... I'm sorry... I really didn't mean to laugh at you... it was just so ….unexpected....”
“Really?” I glared. “This has been going on since the first time we met. And it's been causing me more stress every additional time. What the hell are you doing to me?”
My unrestrained anger squelched his mirth. He shot me a look.... was it contrition?
“I never really gave much thought ….ok, any thought... to how this would seem to you. I fully understand why you are upset, and agree.... you have every right to be.”
I was still angry, but his apology seemed sincere and respectful, so I pushed my anger down.
“So what was so funny? Are you going to tell me what you've been shooting me up with?”
He betrayed a meek smile. “Absolutely. But first, I'd like to ask what you think is in those shots?”
“Well, obviously female hormones..” I replied testily as I waved my arm up and down over my body. “...and almost certainly some mood altering drugs of some kind... increasingly I've been getting these ...thoughts...” I caught myself with a near gasp. I was about to reveal something I'd never even acknowledged to myself! I quickly snapped my mouth shut and regrouped. “I've been having things going through my mind that are definitely not L.C. Things.... maybe Katherine things... I don't know...” I really didn't. I hadn't reflected on any of this. It was all coming out of my mouth as it entered my mind. “....well.... definitely not L.C. thoughts... or feelings... or -” I caught myself again. Just in time, I smugly thought. But Dr Dale was already there.
“...or desires...” he said matter of factly and without a trace of judgment.
I went crimson and stared at the floor.
“So, what the hell IS in those shots you keep giving me???”
He smiled gently and gazed at me.
“Really?”
I was furious and nodded vigorously. 'Of course really!' I thought.
“There were megavitamins, stress complex.... a mild stimulant... similar to atavan... like they give to people with ADD – only in a much smaller dose ….practically homeopathic... to help you ...focus... some mild anti-anxiety compounds.... and androgen blockers....” he quickly held his hand up “NOT to turn you into a woman or to make you 'less of a man'.... they're just to block the ….nervous tension and pent up energy effects of testosterone in the bloodstream. Yes, they may have damped average androgenic processes like beard growth, acne, aggressive tendencies.... but from what I've observed, you didn't seem to exhibit any of those symptoms even before the first injection.” He sat back and took a long look at me. His brow furrowed and I tensed as he leaned in to me. “Nothing in those injections would feminize you.... except.....” and he paused, as if to torture me... I could tell he was trying to ...read me... trying to figure what was going through my mind. I was pretty sure he couldn't, because frankly I wasn't even certain just what was going through my mind at that moment... except hanging on his next words.
“The placebo effect.” he finally muttered.
“WHAT???” I whispered with great agitation. I did not want to draw more attention from the others, so I kept my voice down, but I was shaking with emotion. F'ing 'PLACEBO effect'??? Give me a BREAK!
“Nothing in those shots would or even could 'feminize' you. Yet it is obvious to everyone, you are NOT the same rather androgynous young man we all met that first night. I think, what you thought was in those shots, gave you subconscious permission to become the person sitting before me. Someone who, anyone they came in contact with, would unhesitatingly declare, is unambiguously female.
I was totally gobsmacked. And devastated. Dr Dale didn't make me Katherine Keller. I did!
I tried desperately to compose myself. And Dr Dale was patient and gracious.
“It is what it is” he smiled. “Don't wrestle too hard with it right now. It will eat you up. Just set it aside and deal with it when you're ready. We still have so many other things to discuss. For instance.... when did you know about Katherine?”
I welcomed the change of subject and instantly felt I clicked in to what Dr Dale really meant with his ...deliberately?... vague question.
“You mean when did I notice that Katherine was.....”
He nodded.
“Well... I volunteered in an after school sports program for autistic youth when I was in high school, so I kind of picked up pretty quickly on some behavioral traits.”
“Strictly speaking... Katherine isn't autistic...”
“OK. Granted. But she could be considered ….'on the spectrum' ….Aspergers?”
He nodded “....some people could make that claim.... and it would be hard to refute... But she's very highly functioning, and it manifests mostly as a borderline personality disorder. It could be argued just as persuasively that she's merely a ….difficult personality....”
“But she's generally unaware that she's difficult...” I posed it to him more as a statement than a question. He merely nodded.
“Most of us are surprisingly oblivious to aspects of ourselves that are glaringly apparent to others” he smiled ….and looked at me hard.
I just coughed nervously and quickly steered the conversation back to Katherine.
“OK. She's high functioning ...arguably... borderline... possibly... could be considered 'on the spectrum'. She's high strung... mostly out of frustration over situations and circumstances that are as unreadable to her as red and green christmas wrapping to a colorblind person.”
“I can't argue with anything you said” Dr Dale smiled. “Of course doctor/patient privilege prevents me from actually discussing any particulars of Katherine's situation.... but I will make a random observation that you are a keenly perceptive person. And as I keep saying.... a very clever girl.”
Suddenly I had a devious notion.
“I understand your bond of Doctor Patient confidentiality. And I can't help but respect it....” I grinned wickedly... “even if you wanted to discuss it with someone.... you could only really discuss it with your patient....”
he nodded.
“....Katherine...”
he nodded again.
I adjusted my posture. I sat back and regarded him... trying to be very calm and extremely still. In a monotone voice, and my well-rehearsed suppressed Pittsburgh accent, I asked “Is it true that the double is all but indistinguishable from the original? Can you tell us apart?”
Doctor Dale broke into a devilish grin.
“I sometimes wonder if you two can even tell yourselves apart.”
I forced myself to remain stone faced. I simply gave a curt nod.
“So Dale... can you explain me? I can't.”
“Well...” he grinned, “I did do a little research into what you told me about growing up. As I suspected, the area was rife with biologically active industrial waste. While the method of disposal of all these toxins weren't illegal at the time of their dumping and careless burial, even by the lax standards of the time, their disposal was sloppy and reckless. It would have been a shock if the water table didn't test off the scale for contaminants. It would certainly account for your stillborn younger brother, and the multiple miscarriages your mother reportedly experienced before her own early death. Barring an exhumation we can't be certain, but after auditing health statistics of residents of surrounding communities as well as your own... extremely aggressive uterine cancer seems an overwhelmingly likely cause. As for your father's violent behavior, it's quite possible that grief over your mother's sudden passing may have been a major contributor, as well as the stress of being a single parent and trying to find work in an economically devastated community where the mining industry shriveled and died... still, I'm not willing to rule out severe neurological damage due to the massive amounts of heavy metals and other potent toxins in the water supply and permeating the soil and vegetation throughout the region. I believe the staggeringly inhospitable environment is the fundamental cause of all the physical and neurological damage that devastated the population – and especially the children your age – who grew up in that grievously polluted region. Which for the record, was designated one of the top superfund sites, and has been under environmental remediation – and is still considered uninhabitable – decades after its initial condemnation.”
I just stared at him, trying to imagine the hellish environment Katherine grew up in.
“I believe it's only the fact that you fled your home at such a young age, after being promised as a child bride to a prosperous neighbor, that prevented you from receiving a lethal exposure to the environmental hazards that devastated the community where you were born. If you hadn't panicked and run away, afraid to admit to anyone that you in fact hadn't achieved puberty, and could not possibly bear your elderly neighbor the heirs he intended, then you would have stayed and died a long, slow illness like everyone else. So, ironically, the pollution that caused the fetal damage that made you an infertile, gender ambiguous individual with atypical neurology, ended up saving your life by causing you to flee your hometown and the toxins that permeated it.”
He sat back and watched as I processed all this. I could tell by his expression that he was following my mental process as I traced through all the events and circumstances that made Katherine ...Katherine.
“My God....” I struggled to find the words “...what a story of ….”
He looked at me expectantly
“....survival.... And the others?”
Dr Dale smiled sadly. “In its heyday as a mining community, the town boasted over 9700 residents. That dwindled to about 1200 after the mines closed. Of the residents present up to the EPA condemnation and relocation... there are currently 16 still living... all Katherine's age or younger. All on 100% disability. Suffering from severe Epilepsy, MS, acute schizophrenia, or … debilitating autism. 4 live on their own. The rest are in group homes or medical custody. It seems there really was only one survivor. And all things considered, she isn't just surviving... in her own way, she's thriving.”
He gazed at me with the greatest warmth. I don't know if he was keeping up the ruse that I was Katherine so he could 'recap my history' without violating Doctor Patient privilege, or whether there was another reason. But I knew, as I discovered with Dennis, that Katherine engendered fierce loyalty and protectiveness in those around her. I was beginning to understand the depth of that loyalty, and was beginning to count myself as among her inner circle of protectors.
We arrived in L.A. and dropped off Dr Dale. Matt headed back to school and I thought Dennis, Mikey and I were headed back to Monterey. However, Dennis informed me that I had a meeting with Dez, Katherine's agent Lorne Cullen and some studio execs before heading home.
I was delighted when Dennis told me the agent had arranged a replacement for Katherine's Boxter, and disheartened to learn that I couldn't drive it since Katherine's license was suspended. It was little matter, since the three of us would not fit in her little roadster, so Dennis rented us an Audi A5, and drove us to Dez's production offices.
When we arrived at the office, we were escorted to a large conference room where everyone else was already waiting. I don't know if it was their biggest most prestigious conference room, but it was so ridiculously large, I got the feeling they would have to call anything bigger 'a hall'.
Dez, Lorne the agent and 4 expensive suits were gathered around one end of the aircraft carrier sized conference table. I nodded as we entered and immediately seated myself at the far end.
This caused a stir of confusion at the other end of the room, so I immediately addressed the room, trying out some new Katherine-isms I had picked up on my recent audience with the genuine artifact.
“Apologies for any trouble I caused by abruptly leaving the European leg. And thank you SO much for the use of the G5. It was.....unpleasant.... for a while.... and while I'm feeling better... I'm still..... not myself.”
I caught Dez's crinkling eyes at that remark.
“I don't believe I'm contagious, and I want to thank my traveling companions for being intrepid enough to share a long flight in an enclosed space with a deathly ill person. Even though they remained in the cabin while I spent most of the flight in....” then I airily brushed my hand around “...nevermind. I'm back. I'm on the mend. But I'm really spent and possibly still contagious, so I'll stay down here at my end and ask you to make this as brief as possible.”
My little speech seemed to have worked, because everyone nodded and there were no cordialities. They got immediately to business. Then I wondered if there were ever any cordialities with Katherine, and if getting straight to business was just standard when dealing with her.
They talked about the impressive performance of 'Birds, and setting up a session for the original cast recording since there seemed to be a public demand for it. The studio representatives mentioned how they were negotiating with Dez for Thornbirds-2, and how my signing on to do it would make it much easier to gather the resources to green light it.
I looked at Dez and could see from his expression that he wasn't being courted by the studio, he was being pressured to do a sequel. I knew instantly that we both felt this was a mind bogglingly stupid idea. So I shot him a stonefaced 'Katherine look' and turned to face the suits.
“Let's not beat around the bush on this. I don't even need to think about it. Absolutely.”
I saw the expensive suits smile at each other triumphantly while Dez sank in his chair.
“....NOT!” I finished my sentence.
Their bewilderment and confusion was everything I hoped for. While Dez's wry grin seemed to say 'classic Keller – well done!'
I didn't stop there though.
“You've already harvested that field. Leave it be. It's used goods. Give people something fresh....”
They looked at each other nervously. These folks did not like 'fresh' ...so I threw them a bone.
“....Yet....familiar..... I don't know... like.... 'Desmond Lehmann presents: DUNE ...the musical!” and I mimicked Mikey's fanboy marquee pantomime.
I saw the suits all look at each other, processing this idea. While I could see Dez's shoulders shaking slightly from his not entirely suppressed mirth.
“I've always wanted to play a singing, dancing Bene Geserit ...and I don't know, maybe Justin Bieber as Paul Atriedes....” I threw in just to see how far I could push it until they caught my sarcasm.
“Intriguing!” Suit number one said as she looked to her colleagues, nodding.
“Got anything else?” said suit number two, who I immediately christened 'Gucci Ken' not for his slick attire but for his amazingly plasticine bronze skin and hair.
“What about taking a classic... a name everyone knows but most haven't seen... a legendary brand that's been idle too long and is due for a reboot....”
They were leaning into the table in my direction like hungry beasts straining for the feeding trough.
Again, with the hands and 'air marquee' “Desmond Lehmann's Metropolis'! Wiemar Germany meets Bollywood!” OK. This was met by blank stares. I think I lost them. Though I saw Dez slide down into his chair.... I think he was ready to have an Eoin-like laughing fit and was nearly ready to crawl under the conference table.
“OK. Too high concept? Just imagine.... city of the future towering to the sky... cast of thousands.... all CG of course.... dark troubled hero.... think Christian Bale.... hot sexy robot.... ” I did a little curtsey “like C3PO's hot sister.... only she sings and dances.... this is BIG.... HUGE.... it would have to be in 3D.... maybe IMAX.... think of the soundtrack.... think of the merchandising!”
I think I got them back on board, because I caught them glancing from one to the other, raising eyebrows and slowly growing smiles as they imagined the ways they could milk this cash cow.
Dez meanwhile was beet red, shooting me a look like 'you wicked girl... stop playing with your food and just devour them already.'
I just shot him my stonefaced Katherine look, which only made him grin wider.
One of the suits spoke up. “Speaking of merchandising... We know it wasn't covered in the original contract, but how do you feel about action figures?”
I looked straight at them and replied, totally deadpan. “I don't really have time to play with them.”
I caught Dez's snork. I found myself sorely tempted to try to do to him what I had become so fond of doing to Eoin, but this wasn't the time or the place, so I resisted, taking comfort in the fact that it would be so easy if I chose. He was already softened up. The best part is that the suits were utterly oblivious. As far as they were concerned, they were just dealing with the enigmatic and notoriously difficult Katherine Keller, so they ignored what they didn't understand and soldiered on.
“No. No. Not to own.... we want to release a collection of Thornbirds collectible action figures.”
“Do they dance?” I asked straighfaced. I had to pull it back or Dez was going to have a meltdown.
They looked at each other “No.... they don't.... why would they...”
“You said they were action figures. The dance sequences are about the only action in the film.”
“Um. No. Action figure is just the term. ...they're collectible figurines.”
“Like Hummels....”
Dez stood up quickly and excused himself.
I called after him.... “I hope you didn't catch anything from ME...”
And he began to double over as he quickly scurried down the hall. I surveyed the room. To my amazement, no one else seemed to pick up on what really just happened. The suits quickly regrouped.
“No. They're not porcelain figurines.... they're ...action figures....”
“..but they don't dance?”
“NO!” This was the first genuine reaction I got out of suit number one. One point for me.
“They're bendable.... posable.... plastic figurines!....”
“Like dolls?”
exasperated sigh “Yes! Exactly like dolls!”
“Oh. OK.”
Long pause. Lonnnng uncomfortable pause. I've become fond of thinking of these as 'Keller pauses'
Dez had regrouped and reentered the conference room during the pause. I think he instantly recognized what I was doing. Lorne the agent leaned over and asked if he was OK. Dez just waved him off and nodded.
“Alright....” exasperated suit number one finally broke the silence. “We're agreed.... they're bendable, pose-able DOLLS.... but they're collectible figurines because they're your characters from the movie.”
“I only played one character in the movie.”
“NO! There will be a series of figures based on all the characters in the movie. INCLUDING you....”
I nodded curtly.
“We just need you to sign an amendment to the original contract agreeing to the merchandising at a mutually agreeable compensation....”
“My character from the movie.”
“Yes.... we...”
“Will she come with any accessories.... like a sheep?”
“...what???...”
“My character grew up on a sheep ranch.... she should come with a sheep action figure...”
Dez shot me another look. I plowed on.
“I'm sorry. Bendable pose-able figurine.”
I caught his quivering from the corner of my eye.
“Sure. I suppose she could come with a sheep.”
“Pregnant?”
“What?”
“My figurine. Pregnant? I mean it is a crucial part of the movie.”
“I don't know...”
“Maybe you could make one of each. Double sales. Only the pregnant one should come with the sheep. Maybe the un-pregnant one should come with a bendable pose-able bastard baby.”
They just looked at me incredulously, and I could see Dez was about to lose it again.
“So is it just me or are you doing dolls of the rest of the cast?”
“Well, the principals certainly.”
“The priest? Father dad?” Dez was trying desperately to suppress his convulsions. Everyone saw this but the others all seemed to think he was fighting gastric distress.
“Well yes. Of course. The priest is another principal character.”
“Will he come with his own accessory altar boy?”
Dez managed to mask his outburst as a groan of pain and tore out of the room again.
“Look, that's between you and Eoin's people. Tell them I'm on board. My people will work out an equitable arrangement for my figurines. Though I really think you should do two and double the sales.”
They nodded, a bit perplexed that the surreal conversation had quickly come into focus and been resolved. I think they thought they were getting a taste of Katherine's legendary negotiating skills, but I knew they were just getting a taste of my twisted sense of deadpan humour. Once my one attentive audience member ran out of the room, I decided to tie it up and bin it.
“I really do worry that Mr Lehmann may have picked up something from me. I don't want anyone else to catch anything, so is there any more pressing business that can't wait?” Everyone looked at each other and shook their heads.
“Well then, thanks for keeping it brief and I ...or one of my representatives, will be in touch to follow up on the issues we discussed today.”
I met up with Dennis and Mikey in the waiting area near the conference room and we headed out to the car when I caught Dez leaving a mens room.
“Are you OK?” I asked. He was still beet red.
“No thanks to YOU!” he grinned. “I've been in negotiations with Katherine, and I used to think the original meeting for Thornbirds was the most amazing thing I'd witnessed. But you..... YOU!....”
He shook his finger at me as if he was chiding me, yet with the stupidest grin on his still crimson face. “.....oh, god I'm going to miss you....”
“Is Katherine coming back?” I played it deadpan.
“Oh. NO. Not right away. I haven't heard anything.... I mean I don't think anything is imminent...”
“Oh. OK. So we're still on for Asia in two weeks?”
“Yes. Absolutely. As far as I know. ...in fact if she's wise, she'll take her time coming back. You really do seem to be doing an excellent job tending to her affairs.”
“She won't mind the action figures?”
“I can't imagine she'll care. She was commoditzed much more back when she was modeling.”
“She won't mind the ...accessories?” I smiled.
“YOU!...” he shot me a devilish smile “..are a wicked, wicked girl!”
“Sorry about the movie pitches. I just got the feeling you didn't want to do a Thornbirds sequel”
“God no! And thank you for putting a stake in that. If I passed, they'd just throw gobs of money at someone else to crank one out. But I think you killed it good. AND you gave them other things to think about.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that. I thought they needed a distraction, and those were the first things that came to mind.”
“Actually both good ideas. Retreads of old ideas... or as they would put it 'bankable pre-proven properties' ...yet your take was fresh enough that it could actually work. Either of them.”
“Maybe. But I hope I didn't commit Katherine to anything she wouldn't do.”
“If they make it worth her while, she'll do it. And I think playing a robot may just be the role she was born for.”
“Possibly.... but I kind of painted these as lavish choreographed musicals...”
“And thank you for that. For keeping me in the game.”
I nodded. “But by all accounts, Katherine doesn't sing or dance. I think 'Birds proved that.”
“True.... too bad there wasn't someone who can sing and dance who could cover those scenes...”
I just looked at him. I think he was trying to do 'puppy dog eyes' along with his silly grin.
“Eventually they'll send someone to look for me...” I smiled. “I have to go home sooner or later. I can't stay here forever.”
“You're young. You have time. Tell me you're not having the time of your life.”
I screwed up my mouth and regarded his eager smile.
“OK. I'm not even going to try to bluff my way out of this. But what we're talking about seems like a lot more than we discussed the night before the premiere.” I smiled.
“No shortage of contract paper... or lawyers... or ink” he winked. And leaned in to whisper “The future's wide-open Ms McGuinness.”
I thought finally back to Monterey and a chance to lounge around for a dozen days before setting off for yet another hemisphere.... but apparently a starlet's work is never done.
“Change of plans!” Dennis beamed, putting away his phone as we walked to the Jet Ranger for the hop to Monterey.
“You're not the boss of me!” I yelled at him as I stopped dead in my tracks and folded my arms in a petulant pose.
Dennis looked stunned. He stopped walking too and turned to stare at me. I don't think he knew what to do. This was not the reaction I was expecting. I felt like the little kid who jumped out and yelled 'boo!' and ended up giving her dad a heart attack.
I quickly bumped him with my shoulder and grinned “Jeez! Lighten up.... OK, you're not the boss of Katherine, but we both know I'm totally your bitch!”
“Yeah, RIGHT!” he snorted and resumed walking. “...may I speak now?....” he smiled.
Putting on my best imperious demeanor I replied “very well.... you may...”
He grabbed my wrist playfully. “What I was going to say was that your agent and the studio were delighted with how well the negotiations went. They're especially delirious over some new projects you proposed?” and he raised an eyebrow at me. I just blushed and looked away.
“Anyway... they wanted to say 'thank you' ...so we're not going right home.”
“Some thank you... I was looking fo...”
“Michael and I will be going to San Francisco....”
“Wait... they're giving you guys a holiday to say...”
“And YOU will be spending a luxurious week being pampered at Auberge du Soleil in Napa Valley. Courtesy of Sierra Films and Museworks Motion Pictures!”
I just stared at him blankly. I'm going to be WHAT.... WHERE?....
“Napa girl!” Dennis looked at me like 'what planet are you from?' Then he remembered. Planet OZ.
“It's God's country, sweetie... well, at least if the god was Dionysus...” he chuckled at his own joke.
“Oh sure, your cousin and I will be having a fine old time in San Fran.... but you... you will be out of your mind with bliss!.... Child, they are going to pamper you rotten. I can't say I'm not feeling a touch of the green monster right now...”
“Herman Munster?” I replied deadpan.
Dennis just playfully slapped me on the shoulder. “Girl, you are so funny!....” Rats. He so knows me.
“So I don't have any choice in this week of mandatory pampering?”
“Why would you want to??? This is prime! What did you do back at that meeting? They're never this generous.... the most Katherine ever got was a gift basket.”
I just shrugged.
“Well, obviously you did fine... better than fine... and don't even think about not going to Napa. I will not hear of you not letting them pamper the shit out of you. Girl, you earned it. From the premiere through the tour... getting even with that lecherous old creep.... the things you've done for Katherine's career...” He stopped and gazed at me warmly for an uncomfortably long time... almost 'Keller long'.... and he said quietly “...the things you've done for Katherine....” then he grinned “just shut up and be pampered ….bitch.” And he reached over and hugged me to his side as we walked up to the Jet Ranger to head to our new destinations.
OK. Heavenly doesn't begin to describe it. It was beyond words. Yes, of course Dennis was right. I needed to do this. And I really needed to do this. I thought I had been relaxed before, but I was so relaxed now, I wouldn't have been surprised if my body just evaporated into a warm foggy mist.... The best word I can find is 'bliss' and that doesn't begin to do it justice. At that moment, I was so grateful to be Katherine Keller, blissed out pampered starlet, that I couldn't imagine being my old self.
Which of course immediately snapped me out of my reverie. Funny how fleeting nirvana is.
I was walking trancelike through the bonsai garden when I heard a very un-mellow voice squeal “Kaykay????” In hindsight, I should have fled, but instead I turned to look.
This bubbly young blonde, athletic and tall … well at least by conventional standards... she was probably 5' 11” which put her up to about my chin... bounded across the bonsai garden and looked up at me like an eager puppy.
Oh crap.
“Kaykay! It is you!!!! ...What's the matter?”
I was really perplexed and beginning to panic. This was obviously someone Katherine knew, but I had no idea how to bluff my way through this. I just tried to seem incredibly zen.... blissed out and glassy eyed.... which I guess I actually had been until moments before. I tried to put myself back into that state. Or at least the physical appearance, if not the actual mental state. I smiled at her beatifically and as glassy eyed as I could. I stared with joy and welcome. I did NOT stare with any hint of recognition. To my amazement, this seemed to work.
“Kaykay! ...it's me... Ani! ….Analise Fiore?.... Remember? We met in the spaceship???”
I had a really hard time maintaining my blissed-out demeanor after that outburst. My old reflexes returned and I wanted nothing more than to bolt from this maniac. I fought the impulse and remained calm (appearing).... so she blathered on.
“....Burning Man? … was it two... oh, shit... maybe three years ago? ….Ani! ….Avenging Ani?..... Remember what you did when naked bicycle guy would not leave me alone?... You must..... oh, shit.... we both did a lot of peyote... and then you got those shrooms.... but still.... how can you not....?” Her face turned into the saddest pout..... “....Ani?....” she said meekly in this insecure little girl voice. She was killing me.
“Ani.” I said without expression and retaining my blissed out demeanor.
“Ani!!!!” she beamed. “Yes!” her energy began to rebuild to its earlier exuberance. “We had so much fun until you left with those bikers.....” she faltered for a moment, then regrouped. “So... how have you been????”
I thought 'there must be a rule about being this animated at a meditation spa. Aren't there bouncers or someone to throw her perky ass out?' apparently not, because she just kept going on like a dervish on crystal meth. Still, it was a good thing, because she just kept chattering a mile a minute, talking up a hurricane of information. I didn't have to worry about anything Katherine could know about her or our 'combined history' because she just prattled on about it all.
I would never again roll my eyes at my cousin Mikey and his enthusiasm. This girl made him look like Ben Stein.
Apparently 'Ani and KK' were ...total besties... at least the way she told it.
Trying to translate from Ani-speak, it seems Katherine kind of rescued Ani from some overly attentive creepy naked guy on a home-made velocipede. I'm not sure from Ani's surreal story exactly what Katherine did to scare him away, but it sounded like another tale of Katherine saving a kitten from a coyote. I was beginning to see a pattern here. Her run in with the creepy old artist, spiriting his soon-to-be-ex-muse away, and some of the other things Dennis mentioned to me about various folks at Casa Keller. Although it seems that in this case, Katherine merely saved her and set her free.
Only she wouldn't go away. From her telling, it sounded like two best friends having wild adventures at Burning Man, but I could easily see how it could be Katherine trying to shake off her new acquaintance who just would not take a hint.
I was beginning to understand how she felt. Suddenly my 'bestie' and I were inseparable... no matter how hard I tried to lose her.
My usual recourse would be to just uncork a heaping dose of that infamous 'Keller Crazy', but something told me that would only bond her tighter.
So, Ani & KK were joined at the hip, almost literally. Ani seemed to have a different concept of 'personal space' than most people did. She stayed close. I mean, feel-her-breath, hair-on-your-arms-standing-up-and-brushing-her close. This could easily rattle the most easygoing person, but I refused to let her odd quirks get to me. I remained zen. I tried – and failed – to imagine how Katherine dealt with this. But it did go a long way to explaining Katherine high-tailing it out with members of a motorcycle club... not something I would normally tag as typical Katherine behaviour.
I had to find a way to ditch Ani while staying in character as Katherine.
I had come for a week of massage and meditation, rest and serenity. Instead, I had acquired a hyperactive events coordinator and was trying to get off the wine country version of Mr Toad's Wild Ride.
While I scrambled to come up with a way to break free of this intolerably perky social appendage, Ani proceeded to show me every square inch of wine country and beyond.
I always imagined it as bucolic and genteel, Ani managed to somehow turn it into 'Michael Bay's Wine Country Adventure'. I don't know what – if anything - she actually did for a living, the way she talked I sensed she was a trust fund kid who never had to scramble for food or rent. Still, if I had to pick her ideal occupation, she should be giving tours of Amish country for folks with ADHD. Antic Ani somehow managed to turn the mellow Napa Valley vineyards into a white knuckle thrill ride.
The fact that she always seemed to end up where tourists weren't supposed to go, doing things visitors were not supposed to do ...and I would invariably chase after her, trying to stop her before we both got ejected or arrested, made the week of relaxation and rejuvenation anything but.
She was the textbook definition of a 'wild child'. A twenty-something, nearly six foot tall toddler.... with a passion for wine ...and trespassing.
I got the distinct impression that Ani went through her entire life surrounded by people who removed dangerous objects from her carefree path and ran themselves ragged protecting her from her own uninhibited curiosity. I don't think this girl knew the meaning of 'consequences' and I did not want to be the one to teach her this messy lesson.
It had only been 3 days – 72 hours.... but with Ani, time was ...different. I felt like I had been trapped in paradise with a cartoon Tasmanian Devil for weeks. I found myself shaking my head and wondering how moms do it day in and day out. And felt a profound sadness when a little voice in my head said 'you will never need to know'. I quickly shook off that glum and disturbing thought and returned my focus back to how to deal with 'Exhausting Ani'. I had managed to tone down her …questionably legal antics.... by explaining that I was on personal recognizance for an incident with my Porsche a few months back, and the last thing I needed when I finally got my court date was additional items on my police record. She nodded and seemed to understand. So, at least while we were together, Ani curbed her penchant for trespassing, joyriding on 'borrowed' farm equipment and 'sampling' from casks of still fermenting wines.
I tried to talk her into some of the more ….relaxing activities at the spa, but it was like trying to convince a 3 year old to spend a day at a reference library. So we compromised. I joined her at 'zipline adventure' and she grudgingly agreed to a mudbath and reiki session.
I somehow survived Zipline Adventure, although when they designed the tree-skimming ride, I don't think they considered anyone with my size frame. After plummeting over the forest canopy with my knees pulled up to my chest, trying to imagine the tabloids if I managed to tangle myself in the treetops, I politely suggested to the ride operators that they needed some 'size bars' like amusement park rides, and after watching my hair raising plunge, I think they were receptive to the idea.
Having fulfilled my part of the bargain, I really needed the soothing relaxation of the spa. Ani actually seemed to be into it. She even brought refreshments.
“I brought that magic tea you liked so much!” Ani beamed.
“Oh. Thanks” I replied uncertainly.
“I just remember how you wouldn't stop talking about it at Burning Man, and I felt so bad that I ran out” she pouted. “But this time I have plenty, so help yourself” she chirped as she filled two cardboard cups.
I politely took mine and raised it to my lips as Ani tossed hers back like a shot. I took a little sip and scowled.
“I don't know how you can drink it like that. Sugarcube?” she asked.
“Please!” I replied trying to get the bitter taste off my tongue, which suddenly felt like a filthy doormat. “What kind of tea is this?” I wasn't even sure it was tea. It tasted like runoff from a car wash.
“Herbal. Remember, we had it before we painted each other like adobe statues? I figured the mud bath is kind of the same ritual, so why not relive the whole experience? I also remember you didn't know how to drink your tea then either.” she smiled and tossed back another cup. “Let the sugar cube melt on your tongue then drink the whole cup in one gulp.”
I did as instructed and it was far less unpleasant.
“See? Better, huh?” Ani grinned and scampered toward the spa. “Let's go play in the mud!”
I unfolded myself and got up off my mat, dusted myself off, tossed my cup and followed her to the mud room.
I was neck deep in bubbling muck when the 'tea' kicked in.
How did I not see this coming? Ani & Katherine met at BURNING MAN!
I fought back the panic attack, knowing it would only steer things in the wrong direction, and tried to put myself in the best mindset for the ride that now seemed inevitable.
It was like a midnight waterslide... or one of those 'fun houses' where you stumble around in the dark, not noticing that you're slowly ascending as you snake through the maze, until you suddenly are surprised by the trap door and find yourself hurtling towards the exit ...and daylight.
I never did drugs as a kid. I always figured I was weird enough. Sure, I tried some pot, but it just made me feel like a lethargic ragdoll and I didn't like the feeling. I saw what drugs did to other kids. It wasn't all bad, but in some cases it could be. I never wanted to open that door and find out myself.
Well the door was open now, and it turned out to be under my feet. Not passing through was not an option, so I tried to put myself in the most relaxed positive mindset and hope for the best as I rode it out.
Ani was surprisingly helpful. Her bubbly demeanor made it seem like an incredible adventure. If I had to be tripping balls, I was so glad to be doing it with her, and not someone like my dad. ...or uncle Kevin.
“Ohmigod Kaykay! ….Your EYES! They're like ...lighthouses!!!” she squealed as we sunk into our tubs of warm, bubbling mud.
I looked embarrassedly at the attendant and tried to shrug, like 'eh? some people...' and distance myself from Ani's outburst. But I'm not sure if it came out as a shrug. I couldn't tell, because the attendant just stood there like Vishnu, arms all crossed and glowing at me.
I closed my eyes. ...or my lighthouses, if Ani was right... and tried deep, rhythmic breathing... I inhaled the world and exhaled myself.... I did this for a while and decided 'enough breathing'... I filled my lungs with the outside world and melted down into the mud... back into the earth....
I was warm and still and at piece and ...I recognized this place... I knew who I was... or who I was going to be.... and I heard my mum... not her voice.... kind of... her ….essence....
“No... no, sweetheart.... not this way.... your dad really really wants a boy... you don't want to let down your dad do you? You owe him. Without him, you wouldn't even be here.”
“But what about you? Without you, I'd be.... I wouldn't be! What do YOU want?”
“I want my sweet child to be healthy... and happy... and loving ...and loved. And you are sweetheart. I will love you no matter what.... But your father..... Is it too much to ask?” Her tone was sweet and sad.
“I didn't think so. I never thought so. But it will never be enough. I'll never make him happy. And I'll tear myself apart trying... He'll still be disappointed.... And I'll be miserable.... And the one thing you want... for us all to be happy... and loving... and loved.... we will rob you of that too.”
I laid in 'the womb' for the longest time... curled up and cozy, feeling loved and protected... knowing it was just a matter of time until I would be thrust out into the world. The cold, hard world. On my own. To find my own path. ...my OWN path.
And the world came for me... ripped me from the womb... the sea of hands pulling me into the cold cold world.
“Jesus! How long was she down there?”
“I don't know... everything was fine the last time I checked in, and when I came back, I thought she had left... then the other girl said she 'melted into mother earth' and I thought 'oh, shit' and reached down into the tub. Thank god you heard my yells, I don't think I could have gotten her out by myself, yeah she's light, but she's a fucking amazon.”
“Sweetheart... sweetie... are you alright?”
I felt the shaking and thought I should probably turn on the lighthouses.
“Christ, is she even breathing?” I heard through the fog. I know what happens next. Grabbed by the feet, hung like a chicken and whacked on the bum. Thanks but no thanks.
I let out a deep sigh, expunging the past, and filled my lungs with the future... full of possibilities.
I opened my lighthouses and beamed at them all. They all glowed back. I was back in the world. For the first time, on my own terms. I shined at them and stepped away.... out into the stars... I floated through the bonsai garden, and past the koi pond, feeling the energy of all the living things. ...listened to the music of the crescent moon, and thought 'magic tea indeed'....
I made my way to my room and stood before the mirror. I saw the suit of armour. The suit that looked like Katherine. It protected me, and enabled me. But it wasn't real. It needed to go.
I stood there, picking at it, clawing at it, pulling huge chunks of it off like a brittle facade.
Doctor Dale talked of facades... and of underlying truths... chunk after chunk, I peeled Katherine away, digging down to the truth.... until I stood before the mirror... unprotected, unguarded, but still fuzzy... I saw L.C. Looking back at me. But he was faded and pale and not really... real. Kind of a dull ghost. A mirage... something you thought was there, but when you reached out to touch it, really wasn't. It wasn't armour. It wasn't a brittle facade like Katherine. It was like... a faded coat of cheap paint. Seemingly protecting what was underneath, but not really doing anything constructive.
“Kaykay! THERE you are!” Ani exclaimed as I continued to stand before the full length mirror, clawing and picking.
“Ohmigod. What did you DO? ...there's dried mud everywhere! ...oh honey, we've gotta wash you off!” and she gently led me to the bathroom.
“Yes” I said quietly. “....have to wash ...me... off.”
I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. It wasn't a violent, scrubbing shower like the one after my uncle Kevin encounter. It was ...cleansing... I washed myself off. All of me. All that never really belonged. All the paint and whitewash. Years and years of coatings applied every time I found something else I needed to ...cover up... it was all gone. And I stood there as naked as I've ever been. As natural and ...un-retouched as I had ever been.
I padded out into my room, still naked and dripping. Ani just stared at me, eyes wide. But it could have just been the 'tea'.
“Are you OK?” she said quietly, a bit of the scared child in her voice.
I thought about it. Maybe harder than the question deserved.
“Yes.” I said as much to myself as to Ani. “Yes. I am OK.”
She looked at me. Unconvinced.
“I ...AM... OK.”
I finally admitted it to myself.
“How much magic tea did you drink?” Ani asked as she wrapped a bath sheet around me. From the tone of her voice, I suspected she really didn't want to know.
“Enough.” I smiled. “....Enough.”
She still regarded me with uncertainty. I walked back to the mirror and beheld the girl smiling back confidently at me. I was finally nearly through the chute or waterslide or re-birth canal or whatever the hell I sensed myself falling into when the tea kicked in. Things were slowly getting back to normal. The girl in the mirror was happy and confident, and ...OK... with herself. She still had a bit of a neon glow, and I found myself impatient for the rest of the tea to wear off.
I don't know if Ani didn't want to be alone that night or if she didn't trust me to be alone until the tea fully wore off, but she asked to stay and I nodded my consent.
We spooned all night long.
I had never imagined the first time I 'slept with a girl' it would be like this... curled up into her, her arms draped around my waist.... just cuddling.... wearing just my outsized UCLA tee shirt and panties ….and still tripping slightly.
Funny how life can surprise you.
The next morning, Ani was very attentive. And very tactile. I don't know whether she had a serious crush on Katherine, or she was just feeling guilty about the 'magic tea'. The more she talked, the less clear it became.
“Oh, Kaykay... I'm so sorry about the magic tea... I just remembered how much you liked it at Burning Man, and thought it would be just like old times.”
There was a ...look... in her eyes, and I wondered about 'old times'. I also wondered if what she thinks happened then is remotely related to Katherine's take on those events.
“No...” I said as nonchalantly and dismissively as I could muster. “It was..... OK..... maybe not the same as Burning Man.... but... OK..... in its own way.” I was trying to assuage her guilt, but also being honest to myself. The incident the night before freaked the hell out of me, but it also ripped the scales from my eyes. I was still digesting the alarming dose of self awareness I got last night, but I certainly couldn't blame Ani. She thought I was Katherine. I was such a good liar, I had her convinced. Katherine obviously knew about the magic tea from Burning Man. So when I accepted it – as Katherine – Ani was completely absolved of any accusations of 'slipping me' anything. My success at 'being Katherine' was my own undoing. I not only had an epiphany about 'being Katherine', I had a second epiphany about being L.C.
And that shook me to my core.
While I knew I had a lot of soul searching to do about that, my immediate concern was Ani.
I don't know why I hadn't thought of this sooner, but during the rare moments I had away from 'my bestie', I fished out my iPhone and texted Katherine.
How do I get rid of Analise Fiore?
Avenging Ani?
You remember her!
Hard to forget. You can't.
YOU did.
I had help.
I heard about the motorcycle gang.
They weren't exactly the Hell's Angels. They were a bunch of middle aged Tom Bosley, Dick Van Patten types on full dress Harleys... the winnebago of motorcycles.
The 'Wild Hogs'? :-)
Pretty much. But they got the job done. They dropped me at the airport and Dennis got me home.
You don't happen to know any Napa bikers?
You're on your own there. Oh, and don't let her make any Magic Tea.
Wish I had messaged you yesterday.
Oh. You seem OK.
I think I'm through it now.
Except for the flashbacks.
Oh joy. Something to look forward to. :-P
Good luck getting away. Curious to see how you do it.
Me too. Thanks for the input. I'll let you go. Have to come up with an escape plan. ...any time you want your life back....
I'm good here. And when you see Ani, tell her something for me.
Sure. What?
“Buh-bye.”
OMG. I think Katherine just made a joke! I didn't know she joked. She actually seems more expressive in text messages. Maybe because there's so little expression in text messages that a little seems like more.
It wasn't exactly a portly middle aged biker group, but my deliverance did come, unexpectedly in a text from Dennis.
How COMMITTED are you to a FULL week of pampering?
I called him back immediately.
“Ohmigod? Avenging Ani??? The girl who chased Katherine away from Burning Man???” Dennis exclaimed with shock and I could tell, more than a little morbid curiosity.
“As I understood it, Ani didn't chase her away... Katherine fled.”
“I suppose you could look at it that way, but Katherine would have to be driven from Burning Man.”
“Actually, I heard she was ridden away, in the sidecar of a Harley” I laughed.
Dennis chuckled. “Oh yeah. AARP's Angels.....”
“Well... I'm here now.... with Ani.... who is ….clingy...”
“Katherine called her 'the cheerful tick.'”
“Ouch. Still, I can see that. So, whatever you need me for.... I can …..cut my stay short.”
“I had you at HELLO, didn't I?” Dennis chuckled
“No. You had me at Incoming Caller ID” I laughed back. “How soon can you get here?”
So now I just had to break the news to the cheerful tick.
Ani did not take it well.
“Oh, Kaykay.... NO!... I just found you again after all this time and you're leaving me again?”
OK. No longer any doubt. Serious girl crush. And lots of waterworks. I remained impassive... in Katherine-mode.
“It's work. It's what I do. I had a break and took some down time here, but something came up and I have to cut the break short.” I wanted to at least dry her eyes, but it didn't seem to be something Katherine would do, so I just stood there, looking at the space between us.
“Oh, Kaykay..... it's just not fair!” she wailed. And threw herself at me, wrapping her limbs around me in what I can only describe as a full body hug. This girl was seriously needy. I tried to channel Katherine.... I kept my arms by my sides and my breathing calm. I slowly reached up and patted her head.... but not with any actual warmth or consolation, just a repetitive tapping pat... like someone mimicing something they had once seen but didn't really understand.
“It is what it is.” I said flatly, and broke myself away to begin packing.
“Will I ever see you again?” she asked through breathy sobs.
“Did you expect to see me here this week?” I asked in my Katherine monotone.
“No. Of course not! It was …. such a surprise!”
I shrugged. “Then you never know.”
She daubed her eyes on her sleeve like a little girl and tried to compose herself.
“....When?....” she asked in a tiny voice.
I shrugged. “If we knew, it wouldn't be a surprise” and turned back to my packing, while I could feel her just standing there, gazing at me. I wondered how long it would take Dennis to come and rescue me.
Not long, it turns out. Dennis was really eager to meet the notorious Ani, and wasted no time coming to fetch me. He and Mikey arrived in a silver A7 about an hour later. Meanwhile, I went through the Kubler Ross stages with Emo Ani.
When Dennis and Mikey arrived, I introduced them to Ani, who clung tightly to me and proclaimed to them both that we were 'soulmates and forever besties' and how sorry she was to see me go.
“Well, it is what it is...” I said yet again... and impatiently waited for Ani to break the hug. Dennis finally had to actually pry her fingers and gently separate her from me. I could tell by the twinkle in his eye that he was really enjoying this awkward moment. Mikey just stood by the car, taking it all in and smirking.
We finally got my bags into the car and drove away. I could almost taste the freedom.
“Don't look now” Dennis chuckled as he eyed the rearview mirror, “but someone is following the car like a puppy off the leash.”
“Shaaaane!” Mikey wailed plaintively with a stupid grin on his face. I slapped his wrist gently.
“SSSHHHH! She could still hear you!” I tried to scold, but my smirk betrayed me.
“So that was the Cheerful Tick?” Dennis smiled.
“More like Tearful Chick!” Mikey shot back.
“YOU two! Be NICE” I tried to chide... but my heart wasn't in it. I was just relieved to be rescued.
It turned out that the 'thing' they needed me for was a studio related meet and greet at a gathering of lawmakers and silicon valley hotshots at a conference on Intellectual Property at Stanford. Apparently I was part of the 'celebrity bait' they wanted to lure in the movers and shakers to talk about movie piracy.
“How convenient I just happened to be nearby getting pampered courtesy of my studio benefactors” I smiled to Dennis.
He grinned back.”I was never sure how many of the puppet strings Katherine actually noticed, but YOU are a quick study!”
I thought to myself, she saw them all, but she never let on... no one has a better poker face. No one ever suspected she was on to them. No wonder she needed a break.”
“OK, so what am I expected to do?” I had no idea what 'celebrity bait' meant.
“Oh, just glide through the room, stopping for photo ops with whoever wants to namedrop later.”
“Like that photo of Katherine and the Dalai Lama?” I grinned.
Dennis nodded, grinning back. “Usually there's idle chitchat involved, but Katherine always gets a pass on that.”
“How hard can it be to talk to internet jillionaires and politicians? Are they that different from studio suits?”
“Well, Hollywood people have much better stylists.... but yeah, more alike than not.”
“Sounds like fun. Let me at them.”
“Ummm yeah. That's what worries me sweetie. I don't think they're ready for you. Washington & Silicon Valley are not known for their humor.”
“I beg to disagree. Have you ever seen Joe Biden? That guy's hilarious. And the spraytan guy? Do you ever watch CSPAN? I discovered it on the road. It's like YouTube without cute cats.” I grinned.
“Now I know they're not ready for you!” Dennis laughed. “...but, the studio did ask for you specifically.... so.....” and he broke out in the most impish grin I'd ever seen.
“By the way. Why did they call you to tell me about this command performance, and not just tell me?”
“Well, I AM your PA...” he squirmed. Then he looked at me with a gleam in his eye. “And I think Katherine scares the hell out of them. They'd rather have you shoot the messenger” and he gave a little bow.
“I see.” I muttered as I began to get an idea. “So, when they're too afraid to communicate with Katherine directly, and go through …channels..... it's sort of like a corporate game of ...telephone?” I grinned.
Dennis shot me a look that was a mixture of apprehension and mischievous delight. “Ummm.... how exactly is this message going to get ….misinterpreted?” he grinned.
“Mikey? Are you online?” I asked rhetorically. He smiled and nodded. “How many costume shops are there in San Francisco?"
It didn't take Mikey too long to find what we needed. And thank God it was San Francisco, so we could actually find an outfit sized for my long frame. I think it took us less time to find the costume than to actually get me into it. Were corsets originally invented for the Spanish Inquisition? I imagined this must be how sausage meat feels being crammed into a casing.
I began to have doubts about my silly stunt as Dennis and Mikey were having their tug of war with the corset laces, their knees in the small of my back as they squeezed the breath out of me.... but once I saw the finished result in the mirror, I decided the discomfort was worth it.
I think the studio suits expected all their celebrity showdogs to turn heads at the conference reception, but once again, they weren't prepared for me.
As I glided into the large reception hall, smiling at gawking attendees, I swooped a flute of champagne from a bewildered server and caught the eye of a few of my 'Birds tourmates across the room. Judging by their smiles and nudges to their acquaintances, leaning in for whispers and head nods in my direction, I think they realized that I was 'back' after my sudden tour-ditching illness. I scanned the room for Eoin, but it seems they couldn't wrangle him for this command performance. I was disappointed but undaunted. The room was ripe with prospects.
As the former vice president was giving a lofty speech, I thought the current one would be much funnier and found myself wondering how Joe Biden was spending his evening. Then some internet gazillionaire got up and started making a tedious speech that sounded like it was written with a special tech-buzzword edition of mad libs magnets thrown against a refrigerator.
I couldn't take any more. I took a deep, bracing breath, and silently repeated my new mantra.
'What would Kanye do?'
The nerdy tech magnate wasn't the most confident public speaker to begin with, but when the 6'7” woman in the 17th century sea-wench outfit stormed the stage, he nearly wet himself.
I gently pushed him aside and stooped down to the podium. Maybe the spiked heel thigh high 'musketeer boots' were a step too far. Still, too late to do anything about that. I think my crouching into the podium only made the scene more rivetingly absurd.
“Sorry to interrupt....” I said, stopping and staring into the hall for a 'Keller long' time. The first uncomfortable cough from the stunned crowd was my cue to resume.
“I was told this was a gathering about movie piracy.”
More blank stares.
“You know, the history goes way back. Long before Johnny Depp..... does anyone remember Errol Flynn?”
I heard a muted snork from deep in the crowd.
“Well, Hollywood has a long and proud tradition of movie piracy. Pirates helped build the film industry. Almost as much as gangsters and vampires.”
Some nervous laughter from the darkened room.
“Well, I'm sorry to interrupt....” I nodded apologetically to the guy I 'Kanyed'. He just grinned back.
“Obviously I got the wrong address or something, because this isn't at all what I was expecting...” I stared into the crowd and caught the eye of a well dressed woman in a taupe suit I recognized from all my CSPAN watching in hotels. “I guess this wasn't what you were expecting either...” she stifled a laugh and shook her head vigorously.
“Well, I'll let you get back to your ...tech thing....” and I nodded my head to the guy, who smiled and nodded back. “I just wanted to explain my.....” and I waved my arm across my 'sexy pirate' costume. “I thought this was about pirates and movies, and I just wanted to pay tribute to what pirates have done to make Hollywood the cultural force it is in world entertainment. I know this isn't the right place to make this speech, but I'm here... I've been practicing it... so thanks for letting me give it. It's not what any of us expected, but I of all people understand there's no such thing as bad publicity.” I nodded apologetically to the speaker I bumped, graciously waved him back to the podium, and scurried backstage.
Dennis was waiting for me with a long coat as I planned to make another 'Carmen San Diego' escape. He just stared at me with his dropped jaw as I made my way to him backstage. I don't know which of us was more startled when the room erupted.
I tried to grab my coat, but he wouldn't let go.
“Give it!!!” I tugged as I was beginning to get frantic. The longer we waited, the harder to make a clean escape.
No matter how hard I yanked, he held tighter.
“You can't just run away after that!” he exclaimed with a smile.
Oh crap. So much for a clean getwawy.
They descended upon us in moments. But while I had expected to be surrounded by security personnel, I hadn't expected them to be led by a rumpled guy in a bad suit. He introduced himself as an emeritus law professor and co-organizer of the conference.
“I had expected the studios to roll out the glitz and dazzle to push their message. But I certainly never expected....this.” He said to me.
“I don't they did either.” I sheepishly replied.
“I daresay.” he smiled.
“I guess I misunderstood....”
“Oh ho ho” he chortled. “I think you understood more clearly than most people here what this conference is really about.”
I just gave him blank 'Kellerface'.
When he realized I wasn't going to help him out, or fess up or whatever, he continued.
“You know this is a political tug of war about control and power, about how ...and if... things grow or whither and die. And that... that....” he waved his arm in the general direction of the stage “....thing you did up there.... totally derailed the conference.”
I hung my head. “Sorry. That wasn't my...”
“Nonsense! That was precisely your intention. And you succeeded spectacularly!”
I kept my head bowed contritely, waiting to be scolded for derailing the conference.
“Maybe NOW we can finally get something accomplished!” the guy beamed.
I looked at him sheepishly, but he just grinned at me.
“In three minutes, you presented issues and perspectives that we might never have gotten to with all the carefully worded diplomatic doubletalk the professional presenters and their speechwriters spent weeks crafting.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. This wasn't a dainty industry 'finger shake' he clasped my hand and shook it hard. “Pleasure to finally meet you Ms Keller.” he grinned from ear to ear. “You have no idea.”
I tried to politely excuse myself, but our host would have none of it. He ushered me back into the hall as I grabbed Dennis with my coat slung over his shoulder, and dragged him along like a child clutching a security blanket. The crowd all migrated toward us as we snaked through the room. Even the guy speaking stopped for a moment to give a little clap as we made our way back into the room. He seemed much less nervous now, and his relaxed talk struck me as more engaging and compelling.
We made our way to a circle of people which included some folks I recognized from CSPAN, a couple of tech luminaries and some 'industry people' I was expected to know. Of course, during the introductions, it was said 'and of course you already know so and so from the academy and this talent agency and film studio' etc, I just nodded dispassionately and could tell they all knew Katherine Keller, or at least knew of Katherine Keller, and the industry people especially, seemed a little freaked to be standing right next to me, towering over them in my spindly heeled musketeer boots and 'sexy pirate' costume.
Pleasantries were exchanged, and I tried to keep as tight lipped as I could. Katherine wasn't known for smalltalk, and I had already done enough to her reputation. I tried to behave myself. But when the talk turned to some draconian new rules the studios wanted pushed through congress to mandate tech companies to make hardware that would make it harder for people to 'pirate', I had to speak up.
“I'm no pirate....” I blushed and swept my arm over my outfit “despite appearances.... although if anyone wants to remake Captain Blood or The The Sea Hawk as a musical...." and I put my hand to my ear pantomiming a phone "sorry....all I know is I have the hardest time working all my gizmos already. I'm not trying to steal anything. I just want to use what I bought. But I can't use it on this... or watch it when I'm there... sometimes I wonder why I even bother trying. THAT can't be good for business.” I was met by nods from some and glares from others.
“And is anything going to stop the professional pirates? It's just an arms race, and they have the resources to compete. Resources we could be putting into making more and better content. I'd rather have a 100 pound bag of gold dust with a pinhole in it than a 10 pound bag that's airtight. We already send screeners to professional reviewers... if you wanted to know about something, who would you trust... a professional who gets sent free stuff to pimp... or someone who wanted the product so badly they hung around in the dangerous neighborhoods dealing with all the sketchy types for a chance to see it? Whose word of mouth has more weight? We shouldn't worry about locking down the access to a film... we should just be ready to profit from the experience.... making social events like those crazy midnight showings of Thornbirds ….or selling souvenirs of the experience. Whether collectors edition DVDs ….and by the way... rumour has it the deluxe edition of Thornbirds will be unbelievable... or posters, ….figurines....” I barely suppressed my smirk “soundtracks, comic books, novelizations, etcetera etctera etcetera” I said waving my hand like Yul Brenner in the King and I. I could tell from the faces that a few folks got it, but I remained stonefaced. “I'm no expert, like....say... George Lucas.... but it seems the film is the match that starts the fire. If you want to start an entertainment firestorm, why would you lock up the matches?”
I got the dirtiest looks from my 'industry colleagues' so I decided to throw them a bone.
“Look. I'm not saying tear the locks off the doors and throw away the cash registers, I'm just saying be prepared to tolerate a little ….what do retailers call it when starlets shoplift lingerie?.... 'shrinkage' in the interest of providing an appealing, welcoming store people want to shop from rather than one so locked down it's like a maximum security prison.”
The crowd erupted in rebuttals and agreements and soon they were going at it like cats and dogs.
As our host genially escorted me toward another group I turned to him and said “Looks like I've started a ...what's a polite word for 'shitstorm'?"
He just smiled at me and said. “You got them talking. About stuff that matters. Instead of the usual banal pleasantries and vague talking points. I think you may have been what we've been missing to give these conferences some ...traction. I think people underestimate you Ms Keller.” He eyed me with a sly smirk. “I think you may have missed your true calling.”
I just returned his gaze and replied, deadpan “Hostage negotiator?”
He threw his head back as his single sharp laugh exploded into the room and all heads momentarily turned to us and the still freaked Dennis, who I was NOT letting go of. He was safe in the eye of the storm, but if I released his hand he would bolt. As uncomfortable as he was, I was sure he was safer with me. And I needed someone on my side by my side. My reluctant witness.
We mingled a bit more and started a few more brushfires and our host finally let us go and walked us to the lobby.
“I'm probably never going to hear the end of this” I shook my head and muttered to him.
“Probably not.” he smiled. “But perhaps not in the way you think. You actually got them all talking. We may actually make some progress here for a change. And I believe your industry associates may come out of this actually glad you stirred things up. I think they might even forgive you for stepping on some toes.”
“Not in these boots.” I replied deadpan. Our host just laughed loudly and warmly squeezed my hand.
“A genuine pleasure Ms Keller. You have no idea. You are ….something else.”
This time I couldn't hold back my smile. “No. You have no idea.”
And Dennis and I walked to the valet waiting with our car.
“What the hell was THAT?”
“What?” I replied all doe-eyed innocence.
“Don't give me that missy!” Dennis laughed. “I've seen the YouTubes of the TV pranks, and the instagram of that stunt with Eoin... But shit girl... the live experience is so... so....”
“Boring?”
He shook his head. “I kind of expected the speech... since you went to all the trouble with the costume and all.... still....” he smiled, “...but hitting the floor and the things you said.... I thought oh, damn.... Katherine's never going to work in this town again... but you kept talking.... and soon they started talking and arguing with each other... but I got the feeling that no one was mad at you anymore.... you just got them to see things from a fresh and unexpected perspective.”
“Well, I do know a thing or two about fresh and unexpected perspectives.” I laughed.
Dennis nodded. “Yeah, all they ever do is talk around the issue, but you really made them all acknowledge and discuss the elephant in the room.”
“Hey! I thought this corset was slimming!” I scowled in mock protest.
He just slapped me playfully on the shoulder and grinned as we drove back in cozy silence.
On the drive back to our hotel, I asked him if we were finally free to go home to Monterey.
“Almost” he grinned. “Doctor Dale called.”
Dennis must have felt my eyes riveted on him. “Oh, really? About what?”
“He was trying to get in touch with you. He wanted to know if your schedule was free... apparently there's ...a thing...”
“What kind of thing?”
“I think I know” Dennis smiled “but it's really not my place to say. Maybe you can call him when we get back to the hotel?”
I nodded. I trusted Dennis complete;y. Doctor Dale I was still a little wary of. After our conversation on the plane, I knew there was a lot more to him than I had originally realized.... and I still just wasn't sure about his opinion of me... or his intentions.
“So you think I should call him?
“Well, at least hear him out. I can guarantee one thing.... no painful costumes are involved.” he smiled.
I laughed and sat back in my seat for the rest of the ride, lost in thought. I hoped my 'pirate stunt' at the conference didn't blow up in my ….didn't blow up in Katherine's face. It hit me out of the blue, and trusting my impulses had worked well in the past. I still wasn't sure what the fallout would be over my stirring things up with the industry brass, but I hoped for the best.
As for Doctor Dale, I found myself equally intrigued and dreading what he wanted to talk about. Our last conversation really left me rattled, but maybe it opened me up to the jarring revelation I had at the spa with Ani. I was not looking forward to my next encounter with Doctor Dale, but I knew it was unavoidable, so I was determined to just get through it.
By the time we got back to the hotel it was pretty late. I had an email from Mikey asking me to wake him up and tell him how the pirate stunt went. I decided to let him sleep, knowing there would probably be some third party coverage by morning, with that many tech folks in one room, my speech was probably already on You Tube.
I asked Dennis whether he thought it was too late to call Doctor Dale. He seemed to think the call could wait until morning.
So I had all sleepless night to toss and turn and wonder what Doctor Dale wanted to discuss.
I never would have guessed what he wanted.
He told me that Katherine requested a favor. It seems there was a bay area charity that she was very involved with, and she wanted me to stand in for her at some fundraising thing they were doing.
I told Dale that it would be my pleasure, but I did ask what the charity was and what Katherine wanted me to do. He explained that it was pretty much what Dez and the studio had me doing... just showing up and being the public face of Katherine. Though Doctor Dale grinned at me and said a charity event was probably not the best place for zany stunts. I returned his smile and told him that I certainly understood that, and he could count on me to be genial but well behaved. He just patted me on the knee and said “I know. You'll do Katherine proud. You're a good girl.”
This time I didn't flinch or blush at all. I could tell Doctor Dale noticed, but said nothing.
There was a black-tie fundraiser that evening, but during the afternoon, Dale took me around to see 'Katherine's charity'. And it turns out it was Katherine's charity. She supplied the seed money to start the shelter for homeless teens. They worked closely with city and state social service resources to provide a safe place for at-risk teens... many of them runaways and the large majority LGBT kids who flocked to San Francisco seeking a new life and escape from whatever home environment they fled, only to find themselves broke and on the street in a strange city that wasn't quite the welcoming paradise they imagined.
Haven House was like a combination youth hostel and resource center offering counseling, skills training, GED workshops and substance abuse programs... pretty much all the things a teen could ever need from a supportive family... only the family at Keller House was supportive and non-judgemental, unlike many of the domestic situations that drove kids here.
Dale explained that he helped Katherine set it up with her first film paycheck. He had the connections and she had the bankroll, and pretty soon, K&D's as it came to be known was giving kids an alternative to living – and doing whatever was necessary to survive - on the streets. Katherine never forgot her good fortune, and was determined to channel it into something that would do the most good for the greatest number. This place was very important to her – and to Dale, and I was really happy I had a chance to do something to help them out.
I got the 'grand tour' and met the new counselors, getting 'reacquainted' with the veterans who had met Katherine before. I got to spend time with some of the kids, and the impression I came away with was how overwhelmed they were, how SF was not at all what they imagined, and how thankful they were to have found out about Haven House. How it was helping them get skills to make it on their own and to rebuild self esteem that had been eroded their entire life. I thought of my dad and his constant jabs and disapproval.... of uncle Kevin and my schoolmates, and how I made myself as small and closed-in as possible to minimize the abuse heaped on me. I got these kids. And I think Katherine did too.... if in her own way... and I wanted to do what I could to help this place help others to let go of the baggage from their past and to learn to respect themselves and ….thrive. I saw so much raw talent and passion.... kids who had never heard a word of encouragement in their lives, suddenly ….blossoming... with the respect and attention paid to them by the folks at Haven House.
I instantly understood why this was a passion of Katherine's. And it very quickly became not 'a favor for Katherine' but something I wanted to do myself.
“Oh my God. This place... these kids.... and the amazing staff. I am in awe of Katherine … and you” I gushed to Doctor Dale.
“Yes, Katherine's started something very special here. But I had nothing to do with it, short of hooking her up with the right people in the first place. This is all her.” He smiled.
“You're too modest. I noticed the staff kept referring to it as K&D's. Don't sell yourself short.” I chided.
“I'd love to take the credit, but I can't. It wasn't me.” he smiled.
“But K&D's.... Katherine and Dale's...”
Doctor Dale shook his head, Then it hit me. My hand flew to my mouth.
“Ohmigod! ….he never let on!”
“I'm not so sure he even knows. You met Katherine. She may never have told him.” Doctor Dale smiled.
Dennis would be so proud, and touched ….and embarrassed and self conscious and probably feel so undeserving ….even though he totally was.... I understood even more now how much he meant to Katherine.... and how it was SO not in her nature to tell him.... but to let the rest of the world know ….as long as he never found out. Once again, Katherine managed to surprise ...and impress... me.
“This place is so special...” I said. Doctor Dale just nodded. “And so needed” He nodded again.
“I knew you'd get it. You're very perceptive.” He smiled. “So you have no reservations about helping Katherine out at tonight's fundraiser?”
“After what you've shown me today, I'd gladly do it on my own, even if Katherine hadn't asked.”
“I know.” Doctor Dale nodded. “You're a good girl. You have a good heart. And an agile wit. I think both will serve you well tonight” he smiled.
I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but it was time to get back to the hotel and get ready for the black tie fundrasier that evening, so I didn't give his remarks much thought.
When we got back to the hotel, Dennis was ready with his 'primp team'.
While it didn't seem as overwhelming as that night before the premiere, I wasn't sure whether that was because this was just Dennis and Dale getting me ready for a charity thing, and not the studio calling out the army of sylists before the premier... or whether I was just becoming more accustomed to 'being Katherine' so I took all the stylists and dressers in stride.
Whatever the reason, I sailed through it with a minimum of fuss, and was declared 'scrumptious' by Dennis, after which I rejoined Doctor Dale for our limo to the fundraiser.
I did not realize until I was way down the rabbit hole, that the 'celebrity auction' fundraiser was actually auctioning celebrities... for whatever the highest bidder had in mind!
The meet market was a bit surreal. Schmoozing and flirting and exchanging banalities with all the movers and shakers in the 'celebrity charity' scene. Politicians and local events reporters and bigwigs in area businesses...banking, insurance, entertainment, sports and of course.... tech.
I found myself meeting some very familiar faces. If I had known I would be hitting them up for money a day later, maybe I would have behaved myself differently at that 'pirate conference'.
Still, no one seemed to mind, or to confuse the woman in the elegant black Dior with the raging pirate queen of the day before. I actually got a few compliments about my 'guerrilla performance stunt' at the conference. I shyly explained I just wanted to shake up the tired old ritual that got nothing accomplished. And my guests nodded that the incident made it near impossible to return to the innocuous old track. Most seemed quite familiar with the work of Haven House, and to the few who were new to the charity, their initial impressions seemed quite positive. I couldn't help but gush about everything I had seen earlier that afternoon, making it seem like a longtime project that still fired up my passions. I think I was a reasonably convincing Katherine, although I wonder if I got a bit too emotional talking about some of the individual kids I met. Maybe folks thought anything that could get Katherine Keller this ...emotional... and not in her usual angry/surly way... really was someplace special.
Dale and I worked the crowd until he pulled me aside and told me it was time for the celebrity auction.
“This is probably the wrong time to admit this, but I've never even been to an auction, let alone been part of one.”
“There's nothing to it my dear. Just join the others backstage and everything will be explained. It's not rocket science. Look around...”
I eyed all the shiny celebutantes at the fundraiser and decided, ok, there probably won't be a quiz, and the odds of folks sticking around for an after-fete MENSA meeting were minimal.
Still, I eyed Dale “I'll have to take your word for that. But I thought I saw Elon Musk across the room earlier.” Dale just crinkled his smiling eyes and took my elbow.
“Come on sweetheart. It's almost time.”
I didn't want to panic, but I found I was having a hard time keeping my nerves at bay. “But I don't know the first thing about being an auctioneer!” I frantically whispered.
“Auctioneer?” He chortled. “What made you think we would thrust you in front of a podium utterly unprepared? We have a professional from Bonhams & Butterfields volunteering. Why on earth did you think we were going to make you auctioneer? You're far more valuable as an auctionee.”
It wasn't very demure or ladylike, but I think I audibly gulped.
If I hadn't been panicked enough at the thought of being a celebrity auction item ….I couldn't help but think back to Rado Mitruczeck's twisted vacuum packed beauty 'exhibit'.... my anxiety spiraled out of control when I spied a familiar face in the audience.
I whispered to the auctionee next to me, a local TV reporter, and tried to discreetly nod my head in their direction. “Do you know who that is?” I whispered. She looked puzzled but I was finally able to direct her attention. “.....With the tall blonde girl bouncing on the balls of her feet.”
She nodded. “Yes. That's Art Hawthorne. The avatar.”
“Come again?”
“The public face and voice of Lorenzo Fiore, ...you know, the venture capitalist?”
I nodded reflexively.
“Extreme recluse. Folks call him'The Wizard' because Hawthorne's the imposing visage of the little man pulling all the levers behind the curtain.”
“Oh”. was all I could reply in a very tiny voice.
Why was exuberant Ani percolating in the audience next to the public avatar of her extremely rich and powerful father? I had a bad feeling about this.
The auction kicked off with a recently ...single (dumped) local alderman who went for what I considered the staggering price of $3,700. I wasn't thinking that this was just a fun way for the 'fat wallets' to get a charitable tax deduction. The poor guy seemed quite puffed up by his worth until 'Captain Rick' of the San Leandro fire department went for $18,600. Of course Captain Rick offered to build a fire pit, host a cookout, be completely in charge of marinating the meat and instructing cookout guests on how to safely and surely extinguish the embers in the firepit.
"He can marinate my meat anytime" the TV reporter snickered to me.
Heather McAdams, the local TV reporter drew $22,300 for heaven knows what, and as the 'celebrity auctionees' kept coming ...and the drink trays kept circulating, the winning bids soared to preposterous levels. Part of me was dumbstruck at the gobs of money being thrown around by the idle rich under the guise of charitable contributions, and part of me was dumbstruck at the gobs of money being raised for those desperate, hopeful kids at Haven House.
As luck ...or some twisted machination – would have it, I was the final piece of 'celebrity meat' on the block. I was provided a pen and paper to inform the auctioneer exactly what the winning bid would get... and I handed him my torn half sheet.
“Our final item of the evening is supermodel and filmstar Katherine Keller, who will be offering.... 'An unforgettable evening ride in her Porsche Boxter and possible surprise visit to a suburban pool party and barbecue'...”
Titters from the audience ...as planned. I promised Dr Dale I would behave, but I allowed myself this one exception. I hurriedly scampered up to the auctioneer and handed him the other half of my sheet of paper... stopping to bend down to his microphone to say “Sorry. Wrong sheet.”
The audience laughed warmly at the self-effacing stunt.
“Correction...” he said - a bit flustered. “A home cooked meal ….chef and home to be determined....” He shot a querolous look at me while the audience tittered again. “Or... a full weekend for the winner and up to six guests, with Ms Keller, aboard her yacht the 'Dodge 'N Burn' to a destination of their choosing reachable within the allotted time period.”
After softening them up with the jokes, the actual 'prize' drew a stunned 'oooh' from the audience that exceeded my hopes.
The bidding started ridiculously high. $5,000. I was staggered that people would pay that kind of money to spend time on a boat they had never heard of with a celebrity who had a reputation as a holy terror. I was gobsmaked when the bidding quickly reached and soared through five figures.
Eventually there were only two bidders dueling. The sums had become preposterous even for the deep pockets of the corporate charity crowd. With the numbers they were tossing around, I was beginning to think that Haven House could give each of its kids their own tract home and a trust fund for life. This was beyond charity. This was two feuding egos dueling for bragging rights. And to my stunned amazement, I was the prize.
I was dismayed, but not surprised, to see that Paddle 67 was held by Art Hawthorne with a giggling Ani bouncing up and down and whispering in his ear.
Who kept holding up Paddle 23 was a mystery, and as the bidding got more outrageous, so did my paranoia. They did know that they were bidding for basically a meet-and-greet, posh photo ops and a chance to brag to their friends. They weren't actually getting Katherine Keller for whatever odd intentions they had in mind. They DID know that... right?
By the time the bidding topped two hundred thousand, the room was silent... apparently as stupefied as I was. Even our professional auctioneer, the model of grace and poise, seemed to be becoming flustered. This had become surreal. I was now convinced that egos were out of control and people were making offers they had no intention of keeping.
Apparently not.
By the time the bidding had reached $226,000 the imposing Art Hawthorne wasn't looking so imposing. Though it was hard to see from the stage, he appeared to be developing …nervous perspiration. …..oh, let's call it what it was: flop sweat.
Ani remained exuberant and unflappable ….or perhaps totally disconnected to the fact that she had her minion bidding sums approaching a quarter of a million dollars! Finally Hawthorne just shook off her shouted instructions, to her extreme perturberance ...and took out his phone. Clearly phoning 'the Wizard' for orders. While he was on the phone, Ani wresteled the paddle away from him.
The bidding actually got to $291,000 before he wrestled the paddle back and Katherine Keller went to the mysterious bidder 23.
“Going once. Twice. Sold.” The auctioneer glanced at his notes. “For Three hundred fourteen thousand one hundred fifty nine dollars and and twenty six cents....”
I couldn't resist. I again stormed the podium and grabbed the mic.
“...To the NERD with paddle 23! ….easy as pi....” I grinned. About eight people in the audience laughed.
I refused to surrender the microphone to the flustered auctioneer “Seriously, I'd like to thank the psycho who bought the world's most expensive boat ride – on behalf of all the kids at Haven House, who are each getting....” and in my best Oprah imitation I shouted “A new lexusssss!”
THAT brought the house down, and I breathed a sigh of relief that they got the joke. And for the one or two who didn't, I gently said “Seriously. It's an insane amount of money, but equally seriously, it will do an insane amount of good...” and the crowd got up on their feet and gave a standing ovation.... I choose to think to the mysterious Paddle 23. Who would not remain a mystery for long.
I believe I was genuinely surprised ...although maybe a small part of me went 'Aha!' when it turned out to be the gawky nerd I'd 'Kanyed' at the Piracy Conference.
Jared Kaltmarsh was apparently Valleywag's new 'it kid'. The darling of all the angel investors and 'the next Zuck' according to all the cool kids in tech bubble land.
For the officially anointed Golden Child, he was quite sweet and unassuming. And for a math whiz, he seemed pretty clueless about money.
“I can't believe how much you bid for an evening with me. Pardon me for asking, but what on earth is the draw?” I had to ask, because my jaw dropped at how fierce the bidding was for an evening with the notoriously antisocial Katherine Keller.
He just shrugged. “I dunno. Since the first time I saw you in 'Cut & Paste' ...there was just something about you.”
Of course. The DePalma film - Katherine's film debut - where she played the aloof model stalked by the serial killer who mummified his victims in papier mache. Katherine was pretty much playing herself. This kid picked up the signs... much as I did when I met her.
“That was just a movie” I reminded him. “And even then, things did not go well for the killer once he crossed paths with me.” I chided him good naturedly.
“Oh. I know.” he smiled. “It's just.... after seeing that.... after seeing you in that.... I just thought how much I'd like to get to talk with you for just a half an hour”
“Well, better than that McDuck.... I'm yours for the whole evening. And I owe you and your pals a weekend at sea.” I smiled. “So, what exactly are your intentions?”
He blushed and shrugged. “I dunno. I don't really care about the boat thing. And I don't really have many....” He paused and glanced at me. “OK. Any friends”
I thought to myself, 'I can see why he responds to Katherine.' And I shot him a warm, if sad, smile.
“I was thinking I'd just like to spend some time with you one on one... no gawkers or paparazzi or anything.”
“I'm all for that” I smiled. “But if you've figured out how to do that, please share it with me. I think it would be easier to lose my shadow.”
He returned my smile with a shy one of his own. “Trade you. You're off the hook for the whole boat thing, and I get to hang with you for an evening.”
“Works for me, but I leave for a PR thing through Asia soon, so we'll have to work around that. What's good for you?”
He looked at me and then cast his eyes down towards his Vans. “What's the rest of your night look like?”
“Seriously? The day's mostly shot.... not that I'm pulling a Cinderella midnight thing... but even then, you're really not getting your money's worth. Do you know how much per hour that comes to?”
He snorted and I felt stupid for even asking. This was the guy whose winning bid was Pi. Of course he knew. And obviously, he didn't really care.
“I won't take up too much of your time. I just have some things I'd really, really like to show you.... and I think if we could spend some time together, we could get to know each other.” He was blushing and drilling holes through the floor with his downcast gaze.
I'm learning to trust my instincts. Everything he said could ….would... sound really really creepy coming from someone else. Actually nearly anyone else. But not this kid. I think I knew what he was hinting at and was intrigued to find out if I was right.
“I can't believe I'm saying this...” as I said that his eyes rose hopefully to look at my face. Actually, I think he stared at my chin. “...and we've only just met... but there's something....”
I could see the reluctant optimism slowly dawning on his face.
“....sure” I smiled and quickly put up a finger. “But please... let me get back to my hotel and get out of this dress.”
He beamed at me. “Sure! I can drop you by your hotel.”
“It's OK. We have a car...” I started to say and saw his smile collapse. “...but I'm with other people and they should keep the limo.” I smiled and put up a finger again. “Let me find them and fill them in, then we can leave. Where would you like to...”
“I'll be waiting out front when you're ready” he grinned and dashed off.
I tracked down Dale and told him what was up. He raised an eyebrow.
“So golden boy has a thing for Katherine?” he smirked.
“I think something about her ...resonated... with him” I grinned.
“I'm sure it did” he smiled warmly. “I have no doubt you can acquit yourself perfectly and give him the full blown Katherine experience.”
I nodded.
“And I'm dying to hear all about him... and how your date went!” He grinned wickedly.
“It's NOT a da....” I protested as my mind processed the facts “....oh.” I blurted meekly and blushed.
Jared was waiting at the circle by the lobby, as promised.
“Wow!” I muttered. “Some car! What is this? A Lotus or Ferrari or....” as I buckled in and he gunned it, pressing me into my seat as we quickly whirred up to highway speed.
He grinned at me. “What planet are you from? It's a Tesla roadster! OK, if this was Abilene Kansas I could see you mistaking this for a Lotus, but....”
“OK!” I protested, holding my hands up and laughing. “That's why I do what I do and DON'T write for car and driver. I like cars, but I'm not obsessed with them! It was an honest mistake!” I grinned.
He backed down. “Yeah. And thinking it was a Lotus.... you did pretty well....”
“If you say 'for a girl' I'll grab the wheel and drive us into a pool!” I taunted.
He laughed loudly and ….maybe for the first time since we met.... un-selfconsciously.
“Oh. God.... if you'd been driving a Tesla instead of your Porsche...” He howled, then went white. “I don't know what would have happened if the chlorinated pool water shorted the battery pack...”
I was determined to keep it light. “Well, then I'm NOT buying one until pool immersion is part of their testing procedure.”
He glanced at me and grinned, and I smiled back. This quirky kid was beginning to grow on me.
We swooped into the circle in front of my hotel. “I can just dash in and change …. or would you like to come up and...”
He nodded. “I'm good here. How long....”
“Ten minutes?” I grinned “I learned something about quick changes that week with SNL!”
He smiled back at me and nodded.
“Are you sure you'll be OK hanging out in front of the hotel? They don't like people to....”
He shot me a look.
“Duh!” I smiled “I'm sure they never ask Tesla owners to 'move along'”
He grinned back. This kid was shy and grounded, but he also knew he was 'the golden child' and no one was going to mess with him tonight.
I stormed into our suite, startling Dennis and Mikey, who were watching Cecil B Demented on the projection TV, and shouted “….gotta change.... got a date...” and whisked into my bedroom.
I deftly touched up my makeup, spritzed on some scent and did my quick change. By the time I stepped back out in my black jeans, black flats, and maroon longsleeve boatneck top, carrying my black casual purse and quilted bomber jacket, I noticed the movie had been paused and they were both staring at my bedroom door, waiting for it to open. I had not intended this, but instantly I was loving the dumbstruck look on their faces. I made no attempt to hide my wicked grin as I realized their shock.
“Explain later. He's double-parked. Gotta run. Ta!” I beamed, flashing them a brief finger wave and spinning out the door. 'GOD, that was fun!' I thought as I made my way back to the lobby. The looks on their faces... I couldn't keep from giggling as I thought about what must be going through their minds.... Oh well, they'll get the boring truth tomorrow, but tonight, let their imaginations run wild!' I tittered to myself.
Jared was patiently waiting in the drive outside the lobby. He smiled when he saw me then glanced at his dash.
“Eight minutes fifty eight seconds. You weren't kidding!” he grinned.
“If I had taken the stairs it would have been under six.” I grinned. ...Nerds and their numbers....
We tore out of the hotel driveway and onto the freeway headed south.
“I never thought to ask. ...Sir... just what are your intentions for this evening?” I smiled.
He glanced at me while silently weaving through traffic, “I just wanted to show off.”
I continued to stare at him while he drove, patient that he eventually would realize that was an insufficient answer.
It took a while, but he got the message. “I thought I'd show you why people think I'm worth 3.9 Billion” he grinned.
***
We pulled off the freeway and wound our way through state highways and local streets until we pulled into an amazingly nondescript office park. It reminded me of the place where I did the looping for 'Birds. 'The glamour of Hollywood is really a bland office park. So is the tech glitz of silicon valley' I chuckled to myself.
The office park seemed nondescript, but the security was formidable and like something out of a sci-fi movie... maybe Terminator2 or Sneakers or the Manhattan Project... what can I say, I watched a lot of movies as a kid while I was home hiding from bullies.
Jared led me into a large, seemingly empty room and motioned to some lockers against a wall.
“Find one that fits” he said distractedly while booting up a whole bunch of computers.
I shot him a skeptical glance but he was paying no attention, so I wandered over to the lockers and checked them out. There were bunches of coveralls... kind of like the 'bunnysuits' in those old Intel commercials, only these were powder blue and stretchy and covered with orange and dark green dots. It took some digging, but I finally found one that fit my.... I mean Katherine's... oh hell, our freakishly long frame... the only things I had to remove were my flats. The bunnysuit fit over my tight jeans and top ok. I tucked my hair into the hood and felt like a kid in a snowsuit.
“All suited up boss” I grinned. “Now just what am I supposed to....”
Jared waved to silence me. He was engrossed in his terminals. Finally, his attention turned to me. He looked me up and down and nodded. Then he motioned to a part of the room that was painted neon green with grids on the wall, it was lit by floods so bright nothing even cast a shadow. As I walked over I noticed some ….appliances... I had not seen from a distance. They were all green on green and easy to overlook.
He motioned me over to one circular one that looked like a mini-trampolene about 3 feet across and 18 inches off the floor. As I stepped into the railed circle, I got the strangest sensation through my bootied bare feet. It felt like sand, but there was no traction. It was kind of like water ….or ice. Kind of hard to explain since I'd never encountered anything like it and lack the words to describe it.
Jared either sensed my disorientation or it was routine and he lapsed into his boilerplate.
“It's a membrane of nanospheres. Kind of like millions of tiny mouse balls or track balls.... sensing your location and movement in three dimensions. Yes, they can even measure the impact of your footsteps. ...The umbilical connects... here" he muttered to himself as he twistlocked a rope of cables into a connector on the suit. "And would you pop those on please?” he requested as he motioned to a black object on the green rail.
They fit like ski goggles but I couldn't see a thing. I just stood there while he dashed back to his keyboards. Then I heard him say “hang on” somewhere from the center of my skull. OK. These things had some kind of bone-conductance audio.... interesting, Suddenly the darkness burst into light and a scene of a field. Without thinking I glanced around, my eyes darting left and right to survey my surroundings.
“Yes!” I heard Jared exclaim. “Initially we just factored head motion, but when we finally thought to add women testers, they used their eyes more than their neck, so we added eye-tracking to the feedback loop!” he crowed. I wasn't sure whether he was talking to me or to himself. I decided it didn't matter. I was busy exploring my surroundings. The level of realism was amazing. Yes, on some level I could still tell it was synthetic, but it was the most believable synthetic I'd ever encountered.
“Wow. This is amazing!” I exclaimed. “YOU made this?”
He seemed just a bit shy. “Yeah. I wrote the engine. But we have a whole team making it into amazing things.” The pride and humility in his voice were palpable.
“Watch out! Behind you!” He shouted. I reflexively jerked my head around to see an army of horsemen cresting the ridge, “Run!” Jared shouted. No need to tell a rabbit to run, old reflexes overwhelmed me and I RAN!
“yes, Yes! YES!!!: I could hear Jared shouting as if he was having some sort of sex. But I really wasn't paying much attention to him. Old, deeply ingrained instincts took over and I ran for my life.
“Over there, to your left!” Jared shouted. I saw a grove of trees and darted to them. My breathing was shallow and my heart was racing. I had totally forgotten for the moment that this was just some weird simulation in his computer. I was lost in the moment, flying completely on instinct.
“On your back. The quiver! REACH!” he screamed. I threw my arms behind me and was startled to find a longbow lashed to to my back and quiver full of arrows. I immediately grabbed the bow and threaded an arrow into it drawing back and panting heavily. I could feel the arrow in my fingers through the gloves. How was he doing this? I felt the tension in my wrists as I drew back the bow.
“Steady... steady... NOW!” I heard him scream in my head as I released the arrow just as the head of the armada crested the ridge and it caught him through his armor right into his right eyehole.
“OW!” Jared screamed. “EXCELLENT!”
The throng stormed by, not yet aware that their leader had been felled. I quickly made my escape until I was back in the field behind the confused, leaderless throng.
“YES!” I heard Jared exclaim exultantly, and suddenly the countryside went dark and I reflexively took off the goggles to stare at him, grinning like an idiot, sweating, sitting behind his workstations.
“....So.... what do you think?” he inquired with a mix of trepidation and pride.
I had to stop and collect myself for a moment.
“It was.... I forgot where I was.... I totally lost myself in it..... for a time....”
“Yeah.” He beamed. “It happens. …..ain't it cool?”
I had to grin at his unrestrained enthusiasm. “Yep. Pretty cool.” I grinned. “So what's the final ...product... a game?”
He shook his head vigorously. “That's just what we started with. But then we began thinking bigger. The model lends itself to so much more.” He looked me in the eye, and to his surprise I returned his gaze. “This is a game changer and the money knows that. Look....” he motioned me over and I gingerly stepped off the 'ice plate' which suddenly had traction and felt like sandy pavement since I assume Jared disabled the rolling microsensors.
I walked over to his console and he hit a few keys. Suddenly I saw the field on the big monitor, and a wireframe walking around.
“Is that me?”
He nodded distractedly, furiously keying away. The wireframe changed to an animated skeleton. Creepy, but really believable.
“Sorry, just the default” he said. “Your movements and responses were mapped and logged, so we just need to choose the overlay for playback....”
I started to ask him what the hell he just said, but I quickly saw the skeleton transform into a male soldier straight out of a videogame – or The Sims, which Mikey and I used to play on my PS3.
“Sorry.” Jared muttered. “That's just so wrong... it's the standard template. I didn't mean to turn you into a guy...” he blushed.
I tried to hide my own blush and laugh it off. “None taken... still that's...pretty realistic....”
He shook his head. “Nah. The movements all wrong. The gait and body language. Seriously weird on a guy template....” I wasn't sure whether he was talking to me or to himself, but he was staring at his monitor and keyboard, so I didn't even attempt to hide my deep blush.
“....HERE... we go!” he exclaimed as he pounded a few more keys and punctuated it with a stab of the enter key and suddenly I was looking at myself... well, at Katherine actually a few years younger.... maybe around the time of 'Cut & Paste', in a kind of Lara Croft one piece skintight thing....
“Is that a wetsuit?”
He shook his head. “No. It's a....”
“Sure looks like shiny silver rubber.... unitard or something...”
“Um. It's just a basic rendered skin.... so we can track the skeletal joint and muscle movements....”
“....Riiiight...”
He knew I wasn't buying it, but he ignored me.
“How did you do that so fast?”
“What?”
“Go from skeleton to GI Joe to ME in a few keystrokes?”
“Um... they're stored rendering overlays.”
“Wait. So you had ….a template of ME created so you could....”
“NOT JUST YOU!” he shouted. A bit defensively, I think. His hands flew over the keyboard and suddenly “I” turned into a N'aavi from Avatar.
“Does James Cameron know about this?” I teased. He seemed a bit defensive, and waved his hands dismissively.
“No. No. This is all just proof of concept. Yeah, we would love to do an Avatar themed project, but this is just for the pitch, to let him see how good it looks so he'll sign on and let us use it.”
“So why was I in there?”
He turned to smile at me. “Same reason. If you actually saw what we could do with your likeness, it was more likely you'd agree to let us license you.”
“License me?”
“Yeah. As a videogame character. Like pro athletes license their likeness for sports games.”
I just looked at him, slightly confused.
“I figured we'd get an actor, or maybe an athlete or stunt person to put on the suit and act out sequences from the game and map you over it”
I nodded. I think I was beginning to understand what he was saying.
“But that little scene on the capture pad?.... I really don't think an actor, athlete or stuntperson could have done what you just did. ….Check this out.” Then he got a glint in his eye “I almost forgot.... don't freak!”
He started the playback and I was watching the N'aavi from avatar walk through the field, I could almost feel the grass beneath my feet. When she turned and saw the advancing horde, I startled. I felt my chest tighten and my heart race as my legs pumped while the character raced for the treeline. I felt it ALL... the pounding of my heart in my chest, the ache in my calves from running full out... reaching for the quiver, the arrow in my hand, the tension of the bow. I felt it ALL as I watched the playback.
“How did you DO that?” I gasped.
Jared smiled. “Haptics. The suit's loaded with sensors for recording, but the piezo elements are also capable of playback.” He was grinning from ear to ear with pride. He had good reason.
I smiled. “OK. I see why you're the golden child. But I can't exactly see this showing up under every kid's Christmas tree.”
He waved off my objection. “Nah. It's scalable. It can be as immersive or as conventionally mundane as you want...or can afford. But if you DO spring for more immersion, everything's expandable, so your old games are suddenly new more immersive games.”
“Clever.” I shook my head. “Yeah. I think they're right about you. You're the new new thing.”
“And that's just for the gaming end. This will be huge for social.”
“Oh, God. Haptic Second Life!” I laughed.
“Yeah. Big time. But the real jackpot is....” He caught himself and bit his lip.
I just looked at him and he stared back like a cat with a canary. Finally he caved.
“Let's just say a lot of powerful people with deep pockets think this could help folks.... be all that they can be....” he looked equally remorseful and delighted at his oblique boast and possible violation of the official secrets act.
“Hmmm.... it's not much of a rewrite from Call of Duty to....” I eyed him. He just grinned and nodded.
“3.9 Billion is just the public number” he whispered. “TIP of the iceberg... and it's opened a lot of doors.” he grinned. “Wanna see something really cool?” He motioned for me to get out of the bunny suit and began powering off his immersive gaming rig.
When I had shed the coveralls and was walking back toward him, he eyed the item folded over my arm and nodded.
“Is that thing warm?” he asked, pointing to my bomber jacket.
“Not for skiing, but it keeps the chill out. Why?”
“How do you feel about flying? Are you afraid of heights?”
I shook my head. “I probably have more air miles than you have shares in your own company” I grinned.
“Maybe” he smiled. “But I wasn't thinking of anything as boring as a plane....”
I just raised an eyebrow. I was not sure where this was going.
“Planes are too fast and goal oriented” he grinned.
OK, Silicon Valley Kazillionaire plus eccentric nerd times too may braincells and the reckless exuberance of youth equals what Jared shyly showed me after a short drive to a small hangar on the edge of a quiet airfield.
“Um. I'm supposed to make you sign an NDA ….that's a non..”
“..I'm familiar with them” I chuckled. “You know, you don't have to show me anything, that way I won't have to sign..”
“Aw, screw it.” he grinned as he flashed his keycard and slid the door open. “What are they gonna do, kill me?”
When I saw the thing. I thought 'they just might'.
It looked like a U.F.O. A really ugly, ungainly U.F.O.
But after Jared explained it to me, I realized it looked more like a blimp and a quadcopter had a really, really ugly baby. A gazebo sized baby.
It was an H.A.V. - A 'Hybrid Aerial Vehicle' - part neutral buoyancy ...airship... like a dirigible, and part agile, speedy, maneuverable quadcopter. Designed under a super hush-hush contract from DARPA.
“Is this what made you the wunderkind of Silicon Valley?” I asked naively.
He smiled and shook his head. “Hell no! It's that interactive gaming engine that will push the game industry ahead 30 years. ….actually.... that brought me to the attention of ….certain people in the defense industry who saw potential for wargame simulations.... and led to relationships that ….led to... this!” He beamed proudly at his 'baby'.
“Sorry. Help me out here...” I was perplexed. “You're a game guy. A software guy.”
He nodded.
“So what does that have to do with ….this?” I was befuddled. He was merely amused.
“Nothing.”
I furrowed my brow and he crinkled his eyes in delight watching me flail, trying to work out the connection.
“It has as much to do with my 'success story' as Elon Musk's Paypal involvement had to do with Tesla Motors or Space-X ….or the hyperloop!” he smiled. “Just using the riches from one to fund other passions.... only unlike Elon, I got DARPA to fund this!” he beamed.
“What exactly is it?” I was still pretty confused.
“It's versatile” he beamed. “It's neutral to negative buoyancy, so it can carry troops or supplies nearly anywhere. It can operate as an autonomous drone, hovering for long periods at great heights for battlefield surveillance.... it can carry more troops than an Apache and can move extremely fast... so it's really hard to shoot down... and the whole thing's ….let's just say.... 'cloaked' so it's pretty much invisible to radar, any kind of reflectometry... even visible light.... I mean the 'naked eye'”
He turned to me, grinning wickedly. And when he said the words, I knew we were both thinking of John Hurt in 'Contact'...
“Wanna take a ride?”
“Are you allowed to do this?” I asked in a conspiratorial whisper as we buzzed the Golden Gate bridge and looped back south. The thing was eerily quiet. Just a slight whir of the four electric motors as we hurtled into the night. I had no conception of speed, if not for landmarks on the gruond passing so quickly.
“First. I designed it.” He proclaimed, puffing up his chest and poking his finger at his ribcage. “THEY.... just paid for it....” He deflated just a little. “....Anyway... it's all but invisible to radar and the naked eye... they won't even know it's gone.... HELL...” he laughed. “They don't even know it's finished!”
I was getting the impression he was now trying to convince himself more that me.
“As long as we won't get arrested for treason or anything and salted away in a cell in Area 51...” I kidded.
“NO! ….Nah..... not likely.... probably not..... I don't think they'd....”
His confidence was quickly evaporating. I needed to change the subject.
“So where exactly are we going?” I inquired.
“Oh. I figured.... just around.....” he faltered. He really wanted to show off, but he hadn't thought things through.
“What exactly is the range on this thing?” I asked, the notion already forming in my mind.
“...That's classified...” he smirked. “...but you wouldn't believe.... Still very early test phase. They don't even believe that this thing will actually fly. Stupid, conservative... I knew it but they won't be convinced until they...”
“WAIT! This thing has never FLOWN before???” I was stunned and horrified.
“Of COURSE it's flown..... ..... just not......”
“...Officially?” I grinned
“Stupid bureaucrats.... their money's good, but the rest of their ways are just nuts..... I knew this would work. I worked it out in my head. Once I can see it.... I can make it.... and it always works....”
“Like Tesla” I nodded.
“Huh?”
“Nikola Tesla. He did the sims in his head.... worked it all out there. And only once it was worked out, did he build it. And it worked. Everything worked. The first time.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much. But try convincing others ….”
“JUST like Tesla.” I smiled sadly. I now was certain why Katherine resonated with this quirky genius.
Jared nodded. I'm not sure he got the connection.... and I'm pretty sure he didn't get my inference.... but I was pretty much certain.
“So. ….Range.” I reminded.
“Oh. Yeah. Nothing official..... but between you and me?...... pretty damned sick!” His pride was impossible to ignore. “Not …..limitless..... but....” He shook his head. “Stupid brass have no clue what we're giving them.” He muttered. ….I think to himself.
“So you can get to Monterey?” I inquired.
“No problemo” he grinned in the worst Schwarzenegger impression I ever heard.
We were out over the shiny blackness of the sea with the lights of the coastline flickering near the horizon. Nothing horrible had happened and I was beginning to feel comfortable sitting beside Jared watching for the occasional glint of light off a wave. This was nice.... it was cozy. And it suddenly seemed awfully familiar.
“You watch a lot of movies don't you?” I asked Jared gently.
He nodded.
“Me too.” I nodded. “I can't help thinking about Howard Hughes and Katherine Hepburn joyriding in his plane.... in The Aviator”
He smiled. “I knew you got me.”
“Yeah, well I also remember a spectacular crash....”
“Different scene” he smiled. “This is the joyride scene. But I'm not letting you fly.”
“Smart move.”
“No need. It flies itself.” And he leaned back in his seat, put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.”
“HEY! That's NOT funny!” I yelled. I don't want to get to Monterey in a body bag!”
He laughed loud and hard. “Relax. Autonomous is its default mode. It flies itself better than most pilots.”
“Still. Humor me? I feel a lot safer with you at the stick. After all, you built it.”
His ego suitably stroked, he puffed up a bit, shook himself in his seat, and sat back in pilot position.
Maybe it was because I was so relaxed or that the darn thing was deceptively fast, but the next thing I knew Jared nudged me and pointed out the lights of Monterey.
“You ever just ...buzz people?” I grinned. “....hover over a drive in, swoop over a softball game?.... just.... you know... mess with people?”
He smirked. “Tempting.... but that sort of thing never ends well... there are already enough urban legends and ruined careers. I can resist the urge to add another.”
“Can I ask you a huge favor?” I tried to give him plaintive doe eyes. “My place is just over there. Can you drop me home?”
“Is there somewhere remote, secluded and discreet?”
I stared down at the coastline and made out landmarks... finally pointing.
“There! That large black patch way back from the lights of that big house?”
“What is that. A field?”
“Um. Actually... it's my yard.”
I asked Jared if he wanted to come in for coffee or something. He mentioned that he didn't do caffeine but did ask if he could use a restroom. I thought to myself 'seems the Pentagon forgot one thing on that gizmo' and we walked toward the house.
There was a flurry of activity as we approached the back door and I saw the silhouette of Katherine's housekeeper quickly joined by a much larger silhouette.
“Marta!” I smiled and waved. “And ….Evan?” the dark outline of the security guard nodded. “Lovely night. So clear and calm. We just ...dropped in...” I really couldn't explain, so I didn't even try. It was back far enough in the field that they couldn't see anything, and the thing really was stealth... even up close it just looked like matte blackness. They probably figured we had a helicopter, but may have been curious why they didn't hear or see anything.
“Ms Keller. We thought you were in San Francisco with Doctor Coughlin.”
“I was.” I smiled. I was going to try to make up a plausible explanation, then I realized Katherine wouldn't feel the need to explain anything, so I just looked at the two of them for a 'Keller long' time while Jared stood at my side, almost as still as I was.
“...well...” Marta finally broke the awkward silence. “....would you like something to... it's late and the kitchen's closed, but I'm sure I could whip up something for you and....” I knew she was waiting for a name, which is why I was suddenly determined not to give her one.
“Um....” I looked at the ground and shuffled my feet nervously “...my date...”
Marta and Evan just stared at me.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him by the arm like a teenager. “C'mon!” I grinned and dragged him into the house. I quickly escorted him upstairs to Katherine's ….my.... bedroom while Marta and Evan just stared from down the hall. I was really enjoying this.
I gave him the quick tour, including the 'office' with all the magazine covers, old pin up posters, the Dalai Lama photo and other 'Kellerabilia' . He seemed suitably intimidated. Then I showed him to Katherine's opulent bathroom and reminded him to wash when he finished. He shot me a puzzled look until he realized it had been a joke, and smiled politely.
“You're welcome to stay.” I smiled, motioning with my arm that there was more than plenty of room. Then I realized that it looked like I was motioning around my bedroom. “....I mean... we have plenty of guest rooms, so feel free to....”
He rescued me from the awkward moment by cracking the sweetest, shyest smile and crooked his head towards the back yard.
“Thanks. But I really should be going. I really should be back before....”
“Mom and Dad realize you went joyriding in the jeep?” I leered.
He blushed and shrugged. “Yeah....so I really ought to be....”
“OK. Well.... thanks for an unforgettable night.”
He blushed again.
“Thanks for all the money you pledged for Haven House”
He shrugged dismissively “...It's a write-off...”
“AND for the cool time you showed me...”
“It's an investment. I was serious about licensing your likeness.” he shrugged trying a little too hard to seem nonchalant.
“Well, I'm definitely interested. Of course I'll have to run everything through my business partners, and we can't even begin until the Asia tour's through, but I look forward to finally getting together and working with you... however long it takes.”
He smiled. “Me too.”
“OK.” I smiled. “Have a safe trip home. Fly safe.” and without thinking I gave him a peck on the cheek. I don't know which of us was more surprised. He just got a silly grin and walked toward the dark silhouette of his ride. As he was nearly out of sight walking toward his shadowy craft on a pitch black night, he shouted over his shoulder “This was so worth it!” I smiled and watched the shadowy thing take to the air, startled at how nearly soundless it was and how you could really only see it by the dark silhouette that blocked the stars. It was an outline of 'negative space'. Very cool. And kind of creepy.
I walked back inside happy and content, and.... I'm sorely tempted to use the word 'giddy'. I made my way back to 'my' room and went to the drawers to get dressed for bed. As I put my phone on the bedside charger, I giggled and texted Dennis.
“Date going REALLY well. Won't be home. Talk 2mrw. <3, Me”
I grinned from ear to ear as I pulled up the covers and snuggled into my own sweet bed.
I slept better than I'd slept in ….forever. It was a sweet, contented sleep. Filled with wonderful dreams.... none of which I could recall, except for the fact that they were ….wonderful and life affirming... I was a bit annoyed at myself for savoring the tenor of my dreams without being able to consciously recall a single one. Still, I awakened refreshed and content in my own ….Katherine's own... bed for the first time in a very, very long time. And it seemed long overdue.
I had gotten in the habit of laying my phone face-down in 'do not disturb' mode and when I picked it up to check the time, it started yammering away with notifications of voicemails, texts and missed calls.
There were six from Dennis, but I already guessed what they would be about, so the first one I opened was from Dr Dale: 'Just got a frantic call from your man Dennis. We need to talk.' Then a few more, ending with: 'Dennis won't stop calling me.I don't think he believes how little I know. Shutting off my phone now. Still need to talk – more than ever.'
I scrolled through more texts and missed calls and voicemails from Dennis. Looking at the timestamps, he seemed almost stalker-ish, but I knew he was just being protective.
One email did take me by surprise. It was from Matt Cutler.
'Friend who knew about my 'Katherine connection” sent mt this link. WTF???''
I gasped as I opened the link, 'Beauty & the Geek' – complete with pictures of me - in full pirate drag -shoving him offstage at the 'reinvisioning intellectual property' conference, to shots of him standing next to Paddle 23 at the celebrity auction and images of us ducking into his Tesla outside the conference center. I couldn't tell if they were from a security camera or a cellphone, but it didn't matter, suddenly the tabloid press had linked one of their favorite subjects – Katherine Keller, with a multi-billion dollar Internet Golden Boy and were running with what little they had.
"I'm SO sorry" was the subject line of the email I sent Jared.
“I truly DID have a wonderful time last night. You're charming company and scary smart. I refuse to be intimidated by that. You tore open my mind to the ...possibilities. Now that the dust is finally settling, thanks. I look forward to working with you. It's going to be ….memorable. ;-)
I then immediately texted Matt. 'I hope you of all people know not to take at face value what you read in the press ;-). The auction was a favor to Katherine. I owe her. What happened from there, I never saw coming. And the TRUTH is pretty boring. I look forward to telling you. Face to face. :-) XXOX me.'
I hit send before my brain had a chance to scream “XXOX??? Where did THAT come from? WTF???!!!???” Then I shrugged dismissively and convinced myself he wouldn't even notice.
As if.
Dennis' string of emails – with their escalating panic – were equally annoying and endearing. He felt as protective of Katherine as a big brother. And I knew glancing through his texts, that that protectiveness extended to me as her ….surrogate.
“Sorry for any misunderstanding and anxiety” (Not really) I thought.. “Totally innocent.. He just wanted to show off. And I saw some new opportunities that I really want to run by K1” - as we'd begun referencing her in emails. “She may seriously want to pursue this. Could be the next new thing. Could be huge. And she would be at the head of the line... I'm OK. Sorry for any misinterpretation of my last txt” I snorted to myself “he took me home to Monterey. Can't tell you how GOOD it felt to sleep in my own bed. OK, Katherine's... but you know what I mean. He was a perfect gentleman. ...or maybe just a nerdy virgin. Same diff. CU & Mikey wn U get home. <3. Me'
Next was Jared, who sent a 'Thanks for last night' email. Attentive, but nor stalker-y. Perfect balance. Then I caught a niggling voice asking 'how would LC know? And I crushed it like a bug.
Finally was Dr Dale. 'Sorry I ditched you. Quite a night. Need to talk. ...ASAP.”
I let out a sigh that surprised even me. And pulled the covers up over my head to collect my thoughts before padding downstairs and beginning ….Katherine's day.
I was sitting at Katherine's breakfast station, savoring a steaming half-caf macchiato and watching Marta the housekeeper out of the corner of my eye. She was staring at me when she thought I wasn't looking. I considered having fun with this game of peekaboo, but I figured I'd already toyed with peoples perceptions of Katherine enough, and I definitely should not start messing with the house staff.
Still, something had to give. So I finally caught Marta in one of her stares and, by my stern look, dared her to look away.
“What?” I asked forcefully, but I hoped not angrily or confrontationally.
She just went crimson and moved her lips like a fish... finally she found words. “It's just.... Ms Keller.... um... you've never brought a boy home before....”
“You're NOT my mother.” I looked at her, trying to keep my face expressionless. That seemed 'the Katherine thing to do'. LC really, really wanted to grin, but Katherine would not. Still, I didn't want her to think I was angry – again, Katherine wouldn't even think of that – but I would. I just said softly “First time for everything....” I thought I saw the stricken look begin to leave her face, so I figured this approach was working. “Anyway.... he was NOT a boy....”
She nodded contritely, then stopped and gave me a puzzled look.
“...he was a NERD.” I said gently.
THAT had the desired effect. She actually blurted out a laugh before capping her mouth with both hands and casting her eyes down.
“...Besides, nothing happened.... he's an amateur pilot and he wanted to show off. You know, boys and their toys. So, I asked him to take me..... home.”
That brought a warm smile.
“How long were you and Evan spying on us? Did you notice that he just went upstairs long enough to pee and for me to show him around a bit. He and his ….toy... had to get back.”
Her face softened. “I just think it's nice that you ...made a friend.”
Katherine didn't have friends. I had to nip this in the bud right now, so I half stared/half glared at her and she backed off instantly, realizing that she had overstepped, and went back into 'housekeeper mode'.
She cast her eyes down again. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I just... I mean, I think it was sweet....”
I just glared at her... mentally urging her 'shutupshutupshutupshutup'. Either she got the message or ran out of steam on her own. “Would you like another coffee ma'am?”
I nodded curtly and she grabbed my cup and scurried away. I hoped that quelled the rumours of Katherine 'bringing a boy home'. Once I knew I was alone, I stopped trying to suppress my smirk.
My phone rang and I noticed it was Dennis ….again. Since I was alone in the Kitchen, I didn't even try to answer as Katherine. Grinning broadly to myself, I purred “Good morning!” trying to sound like someone who had just spent the night getting seriously laid.
“OHMYGOD!!!!” Dennis exclaimed. And nothing more. I think he was at a loss for words, and the smile crinkled my eyes as I tried to imagine his face.
“YOU have been spending way too much time with Mikey!” I laughed.
“OHMYGOD! You didn't! You couldn't.... did you? Is he still THERE? Is that why you can't talk?”
I was still laughing when I heard someone grab the phone away.
“WHO's been a bad girl?”
“Hi Dale.” I laughed. “Sorry, I just couldn't resist...”
He seemed to understand, being the other one deluged by frantic Dennis calls last night.
His tone was almost fatherly as he lightly scolded me. “...Still... that wasn't nice... You KNOW how much he cares about you.”
“I know.” I quietly replied. I was a bit ashamed that my little prank had caused Dennis so much stress. “I know how far back he and Katherine go and how much she mea....”
“NO. How much he cares about you.”
That stopped me dead in my tracks. “....No.... I mean, sure we get along great, and I realize how lucky Katherine – and by extension I am – to have him, but I'm just the stand in....”
Doctor Dale sighed. “One more thing to put on the list of things to discuss. NOW young lady, will you please explain to this young man exactly HOW you were a bad girl?”
I just nodded with the phone. Saying nothing. But I KNOW Dale knew I nodded, because suddenly Dennis was back on the phone.
“Soooo?” he said and I could hear his fingers drumming on the phone.
“sorry” I peeped. “I just couldn't resist...”
“So, OUT with it girl? What the WHAT? All I know about your escapades last night was that Tazmanian Devil thing at the hotel and the rest I had to get from the internet.”
“God LOVE the internet!” I heard Mikey yell in the background.
'This is good' I thought to myself. Dennis no longer seemed freaked or hurt or even angry. I sensed 'playful Dennis' was back. “OK. You want to know what really happened?”
“Dish girl!”
“OK. I'll tell you from when I left the hotel – that first time... for the charity thing....”
“The celebrity meat market” he said matter of factly.
“Yeah. And THANKS for warning me about that while you were getting me all.... bid-able”
He laughed. “You would have freaked and chickened out.”
“You're one to talk about freaking out!” I kidded. “How did YOU like it?”
“You're stalling.”
“You're right. OK. The auction.... by the way, how much time do you have? Don't you have to check out?”
“Already done. Dale got a car and we're driving down the coast, headed home. So I want all the lurid details.”
“I'll tell you everything I can without compromising national security” I teased.
“Girl, you're so funny.... OK. So spill.....”
So, I told him all about the bidding war with alarming Ani and the outrageous winning bid and how amazing it was for the charity, and how it was the techie I Kanye'd at the stage of the Piracy Conference, his waiver of my pledged prize in exchange for the chance to show off, and how impressed I was. How he was the real deal, and the rumors were true about him being the new new thing, and how he made the current state of the art look like Pong blips, and how he gave Katherine an invitation to be a part of it from the beginning and how I thought she should really consider it, so I gave him positive indications to keep the door open until she finally decided.
“....And then he dropped me home. I took him in to show him around and let him use the rest room and.... some of the staff saw us... and...”
“Ohmygod! Katherine never brought a boy home!” he gasped.
“Was it really that big a deal? He was already gone in less than 15 minutes.”
“You brought a BOY home! Katherine never brought a boy home!”
“It's not like he slept over!” I protested. I really began to get worried about Dennis' reaction.
“...was it really that big a deal?” I asked in a very, very small voice.
“We'll be home in a couple of hours. We need to talk.”
“take a number” I sighed. “You're right behind Doctor Dale.”
By early afternoon, they all arrived home and everyone just wanted to walk and stretch after the long ride. That bought me a little more time. Dale offered to drive Dennis and Mikey back to Monterey. He wanted to catch up with me after our San Francisco charity event for a routine exam and 'touch up' of his handiwork, but my spur-of-the-moment date and 'flight to Monterey' derailed his plans. I knew he meant 'flight' as in 'one who flees' but I could only beam a cheshire cat grin at his unwittingly apt choice of words. The exam and ...refurbishment... went quickly. He seemed quite pleased, and I was somewhat surprised to notice that this recurring 'intimate indignity' didn't really bother me that much anymore. When he finished up, I was going to invite Dale to make himself at home and soak out the kinks in the Jacuzzi, but he was a step ahead of me and already going to 'his room' to change into swim trunks. I guess with Katherine, people learned to be proactive and not wait to be invited.
While Dennis and Mikey were grilling me on the details of my 'Charity Date” as they loved calling it, and Dale soaked in the hot tub, I got a message from Katherine's agent, which I scanned and showed Dennis.
He shrugged. “No rest for the wicked, I guess. Katherine was always busy, but I don't think she was ever this busy. Serves you right for being likable.” he smirked.
“Was this a request...” I started to say, but Dennis interrupted, shaking his head.
“Looks more like a reminder. Either you ..I mean Katherine.. or he... or someone else on 'Team Keller' booked this. That's the way it usually works. Katherine did not want to be involved in setting these sorts of things up. She preferred being told where to go and when and what was expected of her. JUST like this.” he said as he tapped the email on my phone.
I sighed. “OK. I get the meeting with Kirk to go over the plan for the soundtrack album session. But what's this Armando Ciregna thing?”
Dennis just stared at me dumbfounded. “Seriously? You don't know Armando Ciregna?”
“...the photographer, right? Sophia Lauren with that Vespa?”
“Ohmygod. Yes. That and SO much more. Audrey Hepburn with those starving children. Julie Christie on that bench in Washington square. Marilyn backstage at JFK's birthday? Debbie Harry at Port Authority? Farrah rollerskating the Venice boardwalk? Olivia Newton John with the Dolphins? Christie Brinkley being sewn into that swimsuit before the Sports Illustrated shoot? Heidi Klum being turned into Jessica rabbit for Esquire? Anne Hathaway offstage watching Meryl Streep on the 'Prada' set. …..Katherine getting fitted for her wings before the Victoria's Secret runway show.....”
“Wow. He's been everywhere.”
“No. He's only been in one place. The center of it all. Because he makes wherever he IS the center.”
I nodded. “And he's been doing this ….forever....”
Dennis smiled sadly. “Not forever. Just for a very long time. And that time is ending. He's like 90-something.... and battling Parkinson's and Macular Degeneration. He's hanging up his Hasselblad and calling it a career. They're giving him a big sendoff and anyone who's ever been on one of his covers or posters or coffee table books over the years is automatically invited.... so.... Katherine.” He looked at me with puppy dog eyes.
“This is important.” I said it as a statement, but it really was a question.
Dennis nodded.
“Wouldn't Katherine want to be there herself for this?”
He shook his head and smiled sadly. “I think.... she knows you would do a better job, and actually ...represent her... better than she would do herself. I think she wants you to do this.”
I raised an eyebrow at him but he Dennis remained resolute.
“People think Katherine doesn't care about things. She does. In her own way. I think that... she thinks... you will give him a better sendoff than she would. I think that's why she's not stepping in. She wants you to do it, because you'll do it better.”
“We'll see about that....” I muttered.
“Yes, we WILL!” Dennis beamed.
Dennis had arranged for Hauteshot's on-call pilot to pick me up in a Jet Ranger the company had on retainer and whisk me to L.A. for Katherine's series of meetings.
When I expressed surprise that he wasn't coming along, he simply took my hands in his and said in a mock-parental tone “You're a big girl now. You can do this on your own. Anyway, your cousin Michael just bit torrented the Korean knock-off of 'Glee' so we are way too busy to follow you around holding up your sorry little train.” He grinned wide, then got serious. “Look. Katherine always does these things alone. But she's never alone. People know she needs to be ….handled... so there will always be someone there to show you what to do or tell you where to go.”
“Because Katherine always has people telling her where to go.” I grinned.
Dennis actually barked a laugh that could probably be heard in the next county, slapped his hand to his chest and exclaimed “You got that right girl!”
I smiled bravely, slung my overnite bag over my shoulder and trudged, alone, to the waiting helicopter.
Dennis was right. Katherine was never really unchaperoned. I was met at the airport by Celine from Lorne the agent's office, whisked to my 'usual' suite at the Plaza Beverly Hills and told that a car would be waiting to bring me to the rehearsal studio in an hour.
I had no idea what the protocol for the rehearsal studio was, but I suspected neither would Katherine. So I unpacked my tiny bag, kicked off my shoes, ordered a cobb salad from room service and channel surfed until it was time to meet the car.
Jeans, low heeled boots and a distressed white cotton shirt over a burgundy cami with my bomber jacket seemed conspicuously casual for a 'rehearsal meeting', and judging by the reaction – or lack... I think I played it right. Kirk met us in the lobby of the rehearsal studio and quickly we were joined by Cyril Whitestone who was doing a cameo on one of the CSIs or Law and Orders... I always get them confused.
Colleen McLagan, was in New York in a revival of a Sondheim show on Broadway.
Since she was performing nightly, a day trip to the coast was out, so she skyped in.
Eoin was in Toronto doing Sweeny Todd, so he too was on Skype. When I saw his face I grinned reflexively and touched the screen. He immediately melted at that, and we had a moment... both undoubtedly looking forward to the mayhem we could soon unleash on an unsuspecting hemisphere.
Kirk started things off very graciously, thanking us for our time and complementing us for all the things we had done since 'Birds wrapped. Then he quickly got down to business and started working us... HARD. I think he had forgotten the 'dinner theater bit' that evening at the party the night of the premiere. Or when Eoin and I had asked him to help in our 'amateur drag' stunt in Atlanta. Because he seemed really kind of stunned when I sang. Quickly, Colleen, Cyril, Eoin and I started regaling him with stories of that night in Vienna, and as much as he wanted to hear it, he reminded us that we were booking this space to rehearse and workshop what we were going to do on the original cast soundtrack the studio wanted.
The Vienna gig really proved advantageous, because we were all much more comfortable as a troupe - pushing each other and suggesting things that would NOT have seemed possible to someone who had only seen the film. Quickly, the soundtrack album was shaping up to be a much more ambitious performance than the film. After watching us brainstorm and riff off each other – thank you Vienna! - Kirk dragged out some material that had either been killed because it was deemed 'too ambitious', never shot, or ended up on the cutting room floor. We were all much more comfortable with each other after Vienna and MUCH more daring. It was a joy to watch Kirk as he discovered that he had FAR more to work with than he originally thought. This soundtrack album was shaping up to be a lot more than anyone who greenlit the project had ever dared imagine. And it promised to be a lot more fun than any of us had dared hope.
I got so caught up in the project that when Kirk pulled the plug on our rehearsal because Colleen and Eoin had performances, Cyril had a 'hot date' and I had to get ready for my 'fashion thing' it was a jarring shock.
I got back to my hotel with a couple hours before my 'fashion thing'. So, of course I immediately got on the phone to Dennis.
“What do I WEAR? ...I am so completely out of my element here... I'm having a panic attack! What the hell was I thinking that night? I'm not Katherine Keller! No one will ever believe I'm Katherine Keller! I've been insanely lucky so far that no one has noticed what's blatantly obvious. I'm an imposter. A fake. A counterfeit! I'm no movie star. I'm no supermodel. I'm just a kid from Newstead who stumbled into this elaborate hoax. Oh, God. I'm SO in over my head! I'm going to be surrounded by real supermodels and totally humiliate Katherine. ...my family will disown me and the whole world will hate me for the deceit!”
“Honey?.......” Dennis' voice was calm.
“Huh?” I quivered.
“Calm... The FUCK. ….down”
He was SO low key, I couldn't help but laugh.
“OK. ...Breathe......” he commanded.
I inhaled theatrically for the phone.
“Now... OUT...”
I wooshed my breath, which distorted in the phone handset.
“Now keep doing that until you feel like you can't think straight and you're about to pass out. Then remember... that's how most of those girls at the event you're going to always feel.”
I laughed.
“Good girl” he soothed. “...you're gonna be fine... just take a nap... happy dreams... maybe take a hot soak... and go down and meet the car...”
I was about to say something but he must have read my mind.
“Don't worry about what to wear. They'll change you when you get there. Sweats and a tee are fine.... hell, just show up in a damn robe.,, They won't blink. YOU are merely the clay. THEY are the sculptors. Just surrender yourself to it. ….it's kind of liberating in a way... not your problem.”
I began to feel my panic subside. “Thanks. I never thought of it that way.” I think Dennis heard the relief in my voice.
“Yeah. Easy peasy, girl. Let them do what they do, Just relax and be you.”
“Yeah. I can do that.” my confidence was returning. “I can relax and just be Katherine.”
Dennis cleared his throat. I could hear the discomfort in his voice. “NO. …..you ….be YOU”
I was a bit confused. Dennis seemed to pick up on it.
“Don't be Katherine. Be yourself. Be the girl who charmed the suits... who cowed the press... who almost singlehandedly made Thornbirds the next great cult hit. ...Be yourself girl!”
“But …. you know I'm not even a..........”
“Shutup,shutup,shutup,shutUP!” He exclaimed with a passion that surprised me. “Even YOU know... somewhere deep down... that's no longer true. And the sooner you face it, the better... girl”
It was half accusation, half tease and challenge. I was really not ready to have this conversation. Especially not before speaking with Doctor Dale. I had to sort things out. But that was long term. Short term, I had to be ready to go to that 'fashion thing' ...otherwise known as 'The Fashion Industry Salutes Armando Ciregna – 7 decades of the world's most iconic women'
I felt like I wanted to throw up.
Which made me think of the who's who of supermodels from the 1960s til today who would be attending this event. And I wondered how many were giving into their own gastric urge.
So, as I had so often in these few surreal months... I shelved my anxieties, girded my loins – literally - and strutted into the lion's den.
The backstage area at the Dolby Theater was pandemonium. Or so I thought. As I looked around, it was actually organized chaos... it was like a living thing.. each frenzied cell a part of the greater whole.
I checked in at the stage door and was quickly picked up by my 'handlers' who were well briefed on Katherine's role in this massively choreographed event. Dennis had been absolutely right – of course... so I just tucked away my anxieties, did what I was told , and found my mind free to marvel at everything going on around me.
I was whisked to 'prep' which was a hair/makeup station, and in about 12 minutes looked more stunning than other crews had managed given multiple hours. Next my 'fembot' as I began to think of the near identical pleasant blonde handlers shuttling the VIPs from station to station, escorted me to wardrobe where I was squeezed into a skintight azure single shoulder gown that once again made me look like I had a lot more going on up top than I did. I found myself wishing that I really did, and wondered when I'd finally find the time to talk with Doctor Dale.
The fact that my actual involvement in this whole prep process pretty much consisted of 'step into this please... tummy IN...hold it... turn please... raise your arm... sit...' and other commands a first week kennel pup could master, gave me far too much time to ...reflect on my situation.... I almost used the term 'Navel Gaze' ...but given the revealing cut of this gown, that phrase cuts too close to true.
Once dressed and ...bejewelled, my fembot led me to the 'holding pen'. Actually it was a backstage reception room into which all the celebrities were herded. All the livestock metaphors are because that was how I chose to view this whole process. If I thought of myself alone in a room hobnobbing with Kate Moss, Heidi Klum, Elle MacPherson, Dianne Von Furstenberg, Cheryl Tiegs, Giselle Bunchen, Christie Brinkley, Gabrielle Reece, and a sea of familiar faces I couldn't connect with names.... well, if not for my little 'livestock ranch mind game' I would simply be too intimidated to breathe.
The room quickly sorted itself into two groups in my mind. Those who apparently knew Katherine, judging by their looks and conspicuous avoidance... and those who knew of her, judging by their wary approach and the unmistakable sense that they were ready to flee if the urban legends proved to be true. I thought of people gingerly reaching down to pet a strange pitbull, their curiosity trumping any sense of caution.
I think I succeeded in ….tempering... Katherine's rep without completely dispelling it. I was cordial but distant, seemingly distracted – which wasn't hard since the small talk was so shallow and mundane. I never flipped out on anyone, and I think a few were disappointed. A couple of girls seemed to actually be trying to goad me. During these encounters, I kept scanning the room for the friends who had dared them to 'tickle the dragon', and when I inevitably found them, I shot them an intense 'Katherine glare'. I don't know if Katherine actually has a glare, but if she doesn't, this should be IT, because the giggling friends wilted instantly and fled in different directions. Cyclops in X-Men had nothing on me.
I was so distracted by my little mind games that I was drifting through the crowd on autopilot and nearly audibly gasped when I realized I was passing a fresh flute of champagne from a nearby server to a chatty Jane Fonda who was sharing war stories of her Ciregna photo shoot during the filming of Barbarella.
Fortunately, Katherine had a reputation for many things, but being chatty or forthcoming was not one of them, so I seemed to get a reciprocity waiver when girls were sharing war stories. I could only nod my head and smile, thinking that everyone who thinks this is such an exotic, glamorous life, globe hopping and being publicly fabulous, should be a fly on these walls. This is probably slightly more glamorous than being a professional assassin. Then I chuckled to myself wondering which career choice involved more routine use of bleach and lye.
Once everyone was suitably 'lubricated', the champagne bar was closed and we were rounded up and herded out the back to a seemingly endless queue of black town cars and SUVs. Some girls chose to travel in packs, others went solo. There was never any doubt about Katherine's choice.
Why the limo queue seemed virtually endless became readily apparent. We were whisked around a few back streets only to make an orderly and near syncopated entrance in front of the Dolby theater to walk the red carpet media gauntlet. While it seemed like supermodels from across the globe converged on the red carpet in front of this auditorium, we really all just trooped out the back like widgets on a factory belt to make a splashy entrance while our limo sped off to take its place at the end of the queue, waiting to deliver the next Very Important Package.
The press gauntlet was less intimidating. I don't know whether I was getting more comfortable with them, or that their relationship with Katherine was less adversarial after the last few months. Still I did find myself dodging some questions about the 'pirate stunt' and more about the 'mystery date'. I quickly formulated a way to swat that question, asking everyone who inquired if they were from 'Wired'. When they shook their heads, I'd shrug and say 'Sorry. Can't discuss it.'
That worked until I actually encountered the reporter from Wired. What the hell was Wired doing at a fashion industry fete? I don't know about anyone else, but since I was bully bait as a little kid, panic always made me resourceful. I hesitated only a moment after the reporter confirmed that he was from Wired. I used my perplexed look to advantage, quickly leaning in to him and whispering “...and you don't already know? Are you sure you're really in the loop at work?”
His brow furrowed and suddenly any burning desire to grill Katherine about her date with the Billionaire was replaced by his own career paranoia. It was a bit mean of me, but it got him off my case.
I continued gliding down the crimson trail of traps and finally made my way to the lobby, where again we were queued for another line of photo ops with dignitaries in front of backdrops thick with the logos of corporate sponsors and media partners. We were then herded into groups to fill each row in the theater.
I was placed a few seats down from Rebecca Romijn and a few up from Cindy Crawford. I tried to divine the order to this, because I was sure there was nothing random about anything at this event. I looked down at our row - 'HH' - as we filed to our seats and smiled at the thought that maybe were in the Alliterative Row, but chatting briefly with the women on either side of me quickly dispelled that.
To my left was a stunning girl I hadn't seen at the champagne pre-reception. Turns out she was just 17 and discovered by Armando at 15. She was Georgian – the country. She told me her name, but there were so many syllables and it just tripped off her tongue so quickly, I didn't really get it. Thank goodness Katherine was notoriously bad with names. I did suggest that she consider shortening her professional name to a single word like Twiggy or Madonna or Kodak... since the theater had been renamed and the trademark was obviously available.
She laughed politely at my little joke and said that she and her people were seriously looking into doing just that, since she was only getting started and her face was becoming known, but she hadn't reached the point where she was named in any work she did. She figured she had a year or so before she had to worry about 'branding'. I suggested that when she did decide on a name, that she make sure that it was available on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook before she went public with it. She nodded and smiled, thanking me for the sage advice. She said she was excited to be here for so many reasons, and thankful for the chance to network and learn from so many models who had gone before her.
I reminded her that while at one time, all these women had been models, that many had gone on to excel in other fields, pointing out politicians, network executives, the occasional editor and industry entrepreneur. She nodded. “So much to learn about so much from so many”. I wasn't sure whether she was talking to me or herself, but since she said it in English, I presume it was at least partly meant for me. I just smiled and patted her arm.
“You'll go far.” I smiled.
The woman on the other side of me looked to be about 20, although there was something timeless about her. I couldn't place exactly where she was from by her accent, and her appearance seemed dark and exotic but with delicate features. Her jet black hair and hazel eyes made me think Mediterranean or Middle Eastern, but her high cheekbones and button nose struck me as more Scandinavian. When she introduced herself, I began to get it.
Marielle Hesse was from Argentina. She was kind of the Paris Hilton of the Pampas, and was now going from being a local celebrity to being an up and comer on the world scene. She was raised rich, but never spoiled. In fact she was kind of constantly reminded growing up how hard it had been for her ancestors to get to where they were and how easily it could all disappear. She was near-brainwashed with a strong work ethic and a near pathological need to be her best at everything she applied herself to.
I got the feeling that this girl would either have a life changing epiphany or a tragic breakdown before she hit 30. I tried some platitudes about balance and always listening to the inner voice.... never living her life to meet the expectations of others etcetera. She listened politely, but I could tell she wasn't ready.
Then it hit me how much of my own 'advice' I had never taken myself. I sighed and settled quietly into my seat to watch the festivities.
It was lavish. And long. Armando had had an amazing career, growing up in war ravaged Italy and quickly demonstrating his two talents; a keen eye for composition with an ability to capture the essence of his subject, and a knack for being in the right place at just the right time. His stark photos of waiflike French girls, actually the results of years of wartime hardship... the burgeoning self confidence and swagger of Europe in the 1950s as the scars began to heal and the joie de vivre began to return... the heady anything is possible 1960s punctuated by his bold use of color and outrageous image composition capturing the peacocks of Carnaby Street. This guy really was a one-man time capsule, and I felt that each one of us here – myself as Katherine's surrogate – were all a part of something much bigger than ourselves. It was living history splashed on the giant screen before us, and everyone here had been a part of it.
While the montage was still going on, I noticed the rows in front of us quietly emptying, and in time we too were ushered out of our row into the line leading backstage. And back to pandemonium.
Since we were already seated in order, it was very efficient as we came backstage and were handed our garment bags after just one question “Classic or Contemporary?”. I noticed some of the older women chose Contemporary, but the group around me all chose Classic. I figured 'how can you lose with Classic?' so I chose it too. The wardrobe aide regarded me up and down for just the briefest moment, then apparently agreed with my choice and nodding slightly, handed me the white garment bag with my name on it. I followed the other girls back into a scene that all my old bullies would kill to see: a room filled with, like the sign said, 'The World's Most Iconic Women', in various stages of undress, getting into the outfits in their garment bags and fixing their makeup for the next stage of the event.
It took me a moment to realize that I wasn't the least bit aroused. I did feel a twinge of envy here or there as I witnessed the staggering beauty of some of these world-class models. But I was mostly trying to find a free spot to change and touch up my own makeup.
My jaw dropped when I unzipped the garment bag.
“Classic huh? Ballsy.” the voice to my left laughed. I turned to see a grinning Rebecca Romijn zipping herself into a stunning Versace gown.
“Of course I had it easy, since my 'Classic Ciregna image' is this iconic dress... I imagined most of the girls who had more ….creative... shoots would opt for a Contemporary look. ...All but the younger ones.... or the brave ones.” she grinned at me.
I remembered Dennis showing me that backstage shot of Katherine 'getting her wings' and wondered if these were replicas or the originals from that legendary Victoria's Secret ad.
I didn't think it would be possible to fight my way back up the assembly line and declare 'I've changed my mind'. No matter what I wanted, this was going to happen. I now understood why the wardrobe woman looked me up and down before handing me the garment bag. Her nod was an assessment that I could pull this costume off. Again, I was too numb to feel personally self-conscious. I just didn't want to embarrass Katherine.
Since there wasn't much to the 'costume' it didn't take too long to get changed, hanging my own gown back in the bag and swapping out the jewelry. Rebecca helped me with the wings, giving a broad smile as she stood back to regard me.
“Ballsy!” she grinned. “You still got it. And you're still not afraid to flaunt it. Not many could pull this off after so many years.... but you.....” she just shook her head grinning as she turned and walked toward the stage, motioning for me to follow.
We got back into our seat order as we queued up backstage, and Marielle the spoiled girl gasped as she lined up beside me.
“NOW I know you!” she whispered as she took her place beside me. “My older brother had your poster in his room!” suddenly she seemed impressed by something.
“I'm so flattered to know that.” I replied deadpan.
She threw a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh and turned bright crimson. Then she smiled up sheepishly at me.
I smiled as much as I thought would be appropriate for Katherine. Basically a pencil thin smile and a wink. She relaxed and smiled back warmly. There may be hope for this girl yet.
Apparently this was the part of the tribute where they introduced the 'iconic women' and we all marched under a giant screen projecting the original iconic Ciregna image beside a live video of our walk across the stage. The women from the 60s and 70s, and most of the 80s icons chose 'contemporary' and it was an interesting contrast to see the hippiechicks, Carnaby street mods, disco divas, punks and new age sexbombs contrasted with the flawlessly respectable middle aged women walking out on the other half of the screen.
By the time they got to the 2000s, most of the women still either opted for contemporary, or like Rebecca Romijn, matched an elegant iconic image of youth with the successful confident woman who could still pull off the look. Then they called Katherine and I headed out into the blinding light, thinking to myself, what's the point of the flamboyant outfit without the attitude to match it? I knew the Victoria's Secret strut. I had seen it enough in ads and TV specials, and I knew Katherine was no stranger to it. That confident stride of the woman who exuded self confidence and comfort in her own skin ...and little else.
The lights were so bright I couldn't see much but the marks on the floor that I was to follow across the stage to the rows of icons as we each took our moment in the spotlight to pay tribute to the genius of Armando. I may not have been able to see a thing, but my ears worked fine. Not being able to see the auditorium full of people helped my nerves, but hearing the thunderous uproar of surprise and ...applause... as the image of 17 year old Katherine and the live image of me hit the big screen, gave me a big boost of confidence and maybe put a little extra strut in my step. I did not embarrass Katherine. I fell a great sense of relief and a slight swell of pride at that.
Once the adrenaline rush of the terrifying stage walk subsided, one thing became undeniably clear. It was COLD in the Dolby Theater. At least for someone wearing only a push up bra, g-string, stiletto sandals and glitter. I wished I could huddle into my wings like a pigeon on a winter day, but even they were functionally useless. The Georgian girl beside me scowled a little and brushed her finger along the gooseflesh on my arms. I just smiled bravely and gritted my teeth so they wouldn't chatter. It caused a small commotion as everyone around me glanced in my direction. I saw Rebecca Romijn discreetly mouth 'are you turning BLUE?'
I smiled bravely and mouthed back 'I wouldn't DARE, that's YOUR thing'. She threw her head back with a grin and warmed me as much as she could with the smile in her eyes.
It was only about 15 minutes, but it felt much much longer. Eventually Armando Ciregna came out, made his gracious speech and turned to thank us all. We all applauded, I don't know whether it was for him or ourselves, but it didn't seem to matter. I was just fantasizing about getting back to my hotel and wrapping myself in Katherine's largest, coziest sweater. The band played, the curtain fell, the house lights rose and we filed out to get back into our 'civvies'. As we were walking back I muttered to one of the girls “I can't feel my toes.” She looked at me blankly. “...Or my boobs.” I added. That brought a smile.
“From what I hear, neither can anyone else!” Rebecca shot back with a wicked grin. “Except for billionaire nerds.”
“You're a Mean Girl!” I grinned. “I wouldn't have guessed.”
“You're funny.” she retorted. “I wouldn't have guessed!”
“Frostbite does funny things to a person. What the hell was I thinking?”
“How can you go wrong with 'Classic'?” she grinned.
“Yeah. Next time I'm reading the entire prep package. Meanwhile I have a minion to crucify.”
She laughed again. “Let it go. Soon the feeling will come back to your fingers and toes, and by the time this airs, you'll probably remember this fondly. And have another great war story.”
“By the time this ...airs?”
“God. You really didn't read the packet, did you?”
I shook my head. “...my people....”
“Well, your people should talk to YOU from time to time! This was taped for a special on Bravo in about a month.”
“Oh.” I was really glad I didn't know that beforehand. “I think I want to throw up”.
“Well you picked the wrong place, I'm sure the line for the vomitorium's around the block. Just sit down, I'll be right back.”
True to her word, she returned moments later with a steaming cardboard cup of terrible coffee.
“I'm not sure whether to drink it or soak my fingers in it.” I kidded. Rebecca smiled and handed me my garment bag.
“Just wrap your fingers around the hot cup and inhale the steam.” she smiled.
“Thanks”
She shrugged it off.
“No, I mean it. Thanks. …..For everything.”
She smiled “My pleasure. This was fun. You're not at all what I expected.”
“Who is?” I shrugged. She thought about that a moment, and nodded a smile.
We quietly got dressed, returned our garment bags to wardrobe, where they were inspected, inventoried and we were handed receipts. We then walked towards the exit.
“Are you.... going to any of the after parties?....” she asked
I shook my head. “No. I'm just looking forward to getting back to my hotel and falling asleep in a steaming tub.” I smiled wearily.
“A girl after my own heart.”
“You?”
She shook her head. “Gotta get home and tuck in my girls” she smiled.
“This...” I motioned around the two of us walking to our cars “....it seems so removed from.... “ and I turned my head back towards the auditorium.
“Yeah...” she smiled, lost in thought. “But it was a helluva ride.”
I nodded. Then she broke out in a wicked grin
“But this is SO much better!”
I waved as she broke left to head home to her family and walked in a bit of an introspective daze to my own driver and car.
It seemed like ages since I left Monterey. I slept like the dead and called Dennis in the morning.
“Can I PLEASE come home now?” I whined.
“How was your first day away from home?” he teased.
“...fine....” I replied in a small voice.
“Did you make any friends?” he kidded.
“....maybe one....” I responded in my unsure little kid voice.
Dennis gasped. The charade ended abruptly.
“Katherine doesn't DO friends!”
“I know. I never forgot. Don't worry. I didn't ...make a friend...” I said in an exaggerated voice.
“Well, THAT'S a relief!”
“We just kind of bonded at the ...fashion thing... you know... foxhole friendship... nothing more. We just had each others back. Well, mostly she had my back. It's not like we'll be exchanging Christmas or Hannukah cards. She's not going to ask me to babysit or anything.” Suddenly I found myself thinking how cool that would be.
“Exactly who is it that we're talking about?”
“Um.... Becks. Becky.. Becca... uh... Rebecca....”
“Rebecca.....? does this 'Becks' have a last name?”
“.....Romijn.....” I peeped out.
I think I would have heard Dennis' gasp all the way from Monterey even without a phone.
“You made FRIENDS with Rebecca Romijn???”
“NO! I told you. I remembered, Katherine doesn't DO friends.”
“Yeah. And you also remember I told you to 'just be yourself'!'” He sighed. “So you made friends with Rebecca Romijn.....”
“No! Really it wasn't like that. ….She just helped me with my wings.”
“OHMIGOD! You chose 'CLASSIC???' Oh. My. GOD!!!! We talked about this!!!!”
“No. We didn't. I can assure you that if we talked about that, I would definitely remember. All you said was 'just be yourself. They'll tell you what to do.”
“They told you to go 'Classic'???”
“No. They asked me. You never warned me that they'd ask anything. So I said Classic... thinking...”
“How can you go wrong with Classic?” We both uttered it together, which would be funny under any other circumstances.
“So you wore the wings?”
I said nothing. Which said it all.
“So how did it ...go....?”
“I guess you're just going to have to tune into the Bravo special next month like everyone else to find out. ….And thanks for telling me about that by the way....”
“Look, I figured you were freaked enough by the whole 'mingling with Katherine's past' thing... I didn't tell you about the runway bit or the TV taping because you were already stressed enough and I figured you were already ….a flight risk.”
“Not until they got the wings on me”
“Ha. ha... HA.” he sneered sarcastically, but I could already tell he was beginning to calm down because our playful banter was returning.
“Yes. I was seriously freaked. But someone talked me off the ledge and convinced me that I could do this.”
“....'Becks'?....”
“YES. And thanks to her support, I believe I did Katherine proud.”
“Oh you DO, do you?”
I wasn't taking his bait. I remained silent and finally he relented.
“Yeah, you probably did....” he sighed. “She knew you would. Still, I'd like to see the look on her face when she sees you in those wings!”
“It doesn't air for a month or so. Our Asia gig should be done by then. You probably will. And I'll be back home. I do kind of hope someone in Australia picks it up. I'd like to see it.”
“.......”
“....Hello? Are you still there?”
“...Yeah. I'm still here....”
“Oh. I thought the call dropped. So. Can I come home now?”
“Yeah. Yes. ….home...” he seemed distracted. Then I guess he refocussed.
“You want me to send the Jet Ranger?”
“Can I just catch a shuttle and you send someone to pick me up at the nearest airport?”
“Um. Sure. I'll send the ticket details and boarding pass to your phone. See you soon.”
“I'm looking forward to it!” I made no attempt to keep the longing from my voice. It had been a crazy 24 hours, but I was so glad it would soon be over.
“Sure thing. See you soon. …..when you get....home” He still seemed lost in thought and I wondered what set that off.
I forgot that flying commercially meant going through TSA scanners. I had a moment of anxiety as I remembered Dez kidding about it.... then conceding that they probably wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Which – thank God - they didn't. That gave me more satisfaction than I thought it should. I really needed to sit down with Doctor Dale.
As luck would have it, as we were taxiing to the arrival gate and I turned my phone back on. I had a text from Doctor Dale.
Back in L.A. Call me before you head home and we can get together for that talk.
Oh, hell.
On the ride back to Casa Keller, I had time to brood over my latest near-miss with Doctor Dale. I also had time to calm down and think of ways to 'make lemonade'.
When I got home, after catching up with Dennis and Mikey, and dishing not nearly enough to satisfy them, about the soundtrack rehearsal and especially the star-fest that was the Ciregna tribute, I excused myself for a light lunch and a long soak in the Jacuzzi.
All the while, I was scheming ways to get together with Doctor Dale before we left for Asia.
I finally resigned myself to the best plan I could come up with.
Nearly pruned from the hot tub, I padded around in my robe and asked Dennis to see if he could track down Dez. It only took him about 15 minutes, and when Dez realized it was me on the phone, he seemed quite surprised.
“I figured I'd see you in just over a week when we left for the Asia leg, but this in an unexpected – but pleasant, surprise. To what do I owe the honour?”
“It's hardly an honour” I laughed. “I just wanted to fill you in on the rehearsal....”
“Kirk already....”
“....and I wanted to bounce some ideas off of you.”
“Oh.” He seemed surprised, but not dismissive.
“I don't know how much involvement you have in the original cast recording...”
“The corporate parent of the film company has farmed it out to their music division, so officially, not much.”
“Oh.” I said. Somewhat dejected.
“However...” I could hear him grinning over the phone “since we own the publishing rights and Kirk officially is under exclusive contract to us for all the Thornbirds music – used or unused I'd say we have a significant amount of ….leverage.”
“I see.” I beamed back. Maybe this could work.
“Well...” I began “I don't know how much Kirk told you about the rehearsal, but during the Europe tour, we all really kind of ...clicked.”
“Vienna.”
“You heard?” I wasn't surprised.
“Yes. The recordings and videos.”
“That was recorded?”
“It's routine. The sound board recording tap. Easier to record and discard over rights than to not capture it.”
“Makes sense. But video?”
“Just mobile phones and camcorders. Fans. ….Many of whom worked at the venue and could not believe what you had planned for that night. I think they were intending to record a spectacular accident.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I guess they were disappointed” I knew Dez could hear the smirk in mine.
“Gobsmacked was more like it. Some of these made their way to the net and came to our attention.”
“First I've heard of it. ...And my cousin Michael is pretty good at scraping the net.”
“Yeah. We unleashed a horde of lawyers on the opera company and they put the fear of God into their employees. I think they decided their jobs were worth more than 15 minutes of You Tube fame, so the clips came down pretty quickly.”
“Remind me not to get on your bad side.” I laughed.
“I don't think that's a worry” he chuckled. “SO. I am well aware of this 'chemistry' you mentioned...”
“Right... so I was just thinking...”
“Famous first words...” he teased.
“Yeah... so, the rehearsal went really well, and we all … I mean Kirk and all of us... started ...dreaming bigger.”
“Mission creep IS your middle name” Dez teased.
I cleared my throat theatrically. “AS I was saying...” I grinned. “Since we have so much more material to work with, I was thinking maybe we could get a crew.... maybe some film majors from USC and some kids from the music and recording arts programs... to intern as an extra credit project or something. They could shoot a 'making of' video which maybe if it turns out well, could be an extra on a 'deluxe' 'Birds collectors edition.... the music and recording arts kids could work with Kirk and the studio folks and get extra credit, great experience, and a hell of an entry on their C.V.... We would have an 'audience' to play to, and maybe....them being media savvy college kids and all.... if we didn't hold them to a draconian NDA like some people....” I paused until he laughed uncomfortably.
“....we could probably generate some serious social media buzz while the project is in progress and have an audience waiting for it when it's finally released.”
There was silence.
“...it was just a thought....” I muttered quietly.
“You....” he hesitated “I can't....”
Uh oh. He was choosing his words carefully. Looking for a diplomatic way to tell me how much I'd overstepped? I noticed I'd furrowed my brow and pursed my lips. I immediately caught myself thinking 'whoa! ...wrinkles!' and stopped. Still, I noticed my fingers were balled tightly with stress.
“...just a thought....” he said absentmindedly. I was feeling the knot form in my stomach.
“I thought after that sequel meeting with the studio suits that nothing you did would ever surprise me again. But THIS....”
I began to think that maybe he wasn't mad.
“I have to make some calls. How is your schedule?”
“Well, I have to pack for Asia... no wait... I have minions. And I was thinking of getting some tattoos... but I can reschedule...”
“You're a very funny girl.” he said sarcastically. “Seriously.”
“Well, Katherine's ...social schedule... isn't exactly packed...”
“So you can be down here on a moment's notice?”
“Unless my mystery date calls. Then we may go out for smoothies.”
“Riiight.... Something else I'm dying to catch up on with you. All right. I have to make a few calls, move a few mountains, disrupt a few families and make the impossible happen. Will you be around in an hour or so?”
“For you. Always.”
“I think Katherine's schedule is about to get packed.” He chuckled.
'Perfect' I thought to myself. “Um. OK. Talk to you soon.” I said and ended the call.
Then I picked up the phone again and called Doctor Dale.
“Ah! You got my message!” he cheerfully picked up. And just as suddenly his voice fell as he must have noticed the caller ID.
“...but you're already home.”
“Yes. Dennis was able to get me on an early shuttle. After we landed and I turned my phone back on, I saw your message.”
“Oh. Bad timing seems to be our.... Wait. You flew commercial?”
I instantly knew what he was thinking, because I had the same alarming fear when I found myself in the security queue.
“Yep. Smooth sailing. You do really good work.” I replied cheerfully.
“I didn't anticipate trouble, but still....”
“Honestly, I didn't even give it a thought until they directed me to the scanner. They probably took my discomfort for being the normal reaction to the scan. It was a great relief, but not really a surprise. Everyone said I would probably be fine.”
“Everyone?”
“OK. Just Dez. But he was right, and you are an artist. Or maybe a magician.”
“Well, the magician is only as good as his assistant. Well done.”
“OK... Hooray for us?” I said dismissively, hoping to get back on-topic.
“So....” Dale began. I think he wanted to get back on topic too. I waited for him to continue, then I realized he just said that expecting me to step in.
“OK. We haven't talked since the plane trip back from Katherine's. And a lot has happened since then.”
“...over the last 6 days...”
“Yeah. No. Wait... SIX DAYS?” That couldn't be right. But I quickly ran through things in my head. Damn. Six days. No wonder I was feeling overwhelmed. “Wow... you're right... only six days.”
“They were pretty full days by all accounts” he chuckled.
“I'll say.” I muttered absentmindedly, thinking out loud.
“And even GOD rested after six” he teased.
“I think that's because he didn't have anyone to talk to.” I smiled.
“So, what would you like to talk about?”
“Well.... in a word.... my future.”
“I see.” he paused for an uncomfortably long time. I tried to imagine just what was going through his mind, but could not. “And why exactly do you want to discuss this ...with me?”
“Oh. I'm sorry. It's not your problem, and I probably overstepped.” To my dismay, tears began to well up. I did not see this coming, “I just.... You seemed to have a good perspective and a healthy distance and I don't know who else I could even begin to talk to about this and I just thought...” the words came spilling out and I found myself gasping for air between run-on sentences and gulping down sobs as a tsunami of despair overwhelmed me.
“Oh God. I don't know what's...where the hell did this...” I swallowed hard trying to jam down the wave of emotion that overcame me from nowhere. “I'm sorry! I didn't expect... what the hell is... Oh, God. I'm sorry. I have no idea where that came from...” I gulped as I fought to regain control. “I never intended.... I'm SO sorry.... you're right. This is not your problem and, ohmygod, how did I become such a mess??!”
Dale chuckled kindly. I didn't get the feeling that he was laughing AT me. ...it was calm and reassuring.... kind of like he was consoling me that my outburst was no big deal and nothing to freak out over.
“The phone is is really no way to do this...” he soothed. “At least if you were in my office, I could offer you a tissue.”
“I'm fine” I laughed hesitantly. That was SO embarrassing! And I didn't see it coming until the emotion swallowed me up like a sinkhole. “I've got plenty here. Thanks for the thought though.” I smiled weakly. “I really AM sorry. This is NOT your problem. I shouldn't have bothered you.”
“Nonsense. At the moment you are under my care. And if you have a problem, it's my concern too. I was just curious why you chose to talk to me and not your cousin.... or to Desmond.”
“Oh. ...Well, Michael and I go way back. I don't know if he has the perspective. And actually, I discovered that we didn't know each other as well as we both thought.”
“Oh?”
“Well, at our initial meeting with Dez, I found out that he thought I was gay.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
“Surprised. Almost as surprised as when I realized that he thought I was gay ...like him.”
“And you had no idea.”
“Never entered my mind. Although in hindsight it explained a lot.”
“Hindsight is funny that way” he chuckled. “And you were surprised that he thought you were gay.”
“I guess we didn't really know each other at all.”
“Aside from the ….gay thing... what else about your cousin surprises you?”
“Well, nothing really. I guess he's the same.... just more relaxed now that the ...gay thing... is out in the open.”
“He's not overthinking things and self-censoring. He's just being himself and is more relaxed.”
“I guess so. Yes.”
“And if I asked him to describe you since that night... and how his relationship with you had changed...”
“I guess you'd have to ask him. I think we get along fine. We're still close. Maybe even closer..”
“And why do you think that would be?”
“I guess because it's just the two of us on an adventure so far from home....”
“And how is he with you ….being Katherine?....”
“Fine, I guess. ….more than fine actually.....”
“And why do you think that is?....”
“I don't …. what are you getting at?”
“I'm just trying to sort things out. It seems to me that you have little problem 'being Katherine'...”
“...Right.”
“In fact, you adjusted surprisingly quickly. Within about 24 hours you were fooling the international press at the Thornbirds premiere.”
“Uh, huh.”
“Why do you think you adjusted so quickly?”
“I don't know. I ran track and swam at school. When I was waiting for the start, I didn't think about it. I just put myself completely in the moment and just ...did it.”
“Or in this case, just WAS it.”
“Uh huh. I guess. I really didn't think about it. It didn't come from the head. It had to come..”
“..from the heart..”
“I was going to say from the gut. But I'll meet you halfway. It wasn't ...intellectual... it was...”
“Visceral?”
“Yeah. I guess. I felt it in my bones.”
“How do you think you did that?”
“I don't know. I never thought about it.”
“Do you think anyone else could do it?”
“Sure... I guess.... I never....”
“Try to imagine your cousin doing it.... or Dennis....”
I laughed. I tried to imagine it, but the images in my head were ….unconvincing.
“Look. I think I see what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it. But you don't have to convince me. I know I kind of.... nailed... being Katherine.”
“That's an understatement.” He laughed.
“But I didn't call to talk about the past or even the present. I'm sure Asia will be a lot of fun and far less stressful after doing the US and Euro-tours. But one of our stops will be Australia. And it's almost certain that Mikey will be meeting up with his family.”
“What about L.C's family?”
“I'm sure my mum will want to come out, and she'll probably drag my father along if she can.”
“And how do you feel about that? Who will they meet? Katherine?”
“Well, it is the Thornbirds tour, and Katherine will be very visible. I don't see how that can be avoided.... but strangely, I don't really have a problem with that.”
“Oh?” I could hear his eyebrow raising even over the phone.
“I'm comfortable enough as Katherine that I don't even think they could throw me. Apparently everyone already noticed the resemblance. Everyone but ME. Still, I do NOT think my mum would be brazen enough to tell Katherine Keller 'you look remarkably like my teenaged son' “
Doctor Dale laughed. 'No, I don't suppose she would.”
“So, I can handle any Katherine encounter... should it happen... which I will try to avoid.”
“And what about L.C. Meeting his parents. You're traveling with your cousin. They will expect to meet you.”
My heavy sigh said so much more than any words I could find. “I don't know what to do about that.”
“Oh?”
“The boy they sent away to chaperon his cousin to the states....”
“.....L.C.”
“I don't think he exists anymore.”
“Can you explain?”
“No. I'm not.... I know I'm not Katherine... I never was. I was just a really good ringer.... but that guy... who met Dez in the elevator that day... the shy, awkward, gangly kid who came to gawk at L.A. and go home to his sad, shabby life.... I'm as much that person as I am the three year old who had the accident in the middle of the Easter pageant. I know it's where I came from, and it lead me to where I am today... but I'm not who I was.”
“So who are you?”
I laughed. It sounded bitter, but it was really filled with dark mirth. “Certainly not who I expected to be.”
“I don't understand. Can you explain?”
“Not really.” I scoffed. “I can't understand it myself.” I told Dale about my experience with A.D.D. Ani's 'magic tea'. He was very quiet.
“Hello? Are you still there?”
“Yes. Still here.” he replied quietly. “And how do you feel now? After your....”
“I suppose 'epiphany' is as good a term as any”
“OK. How do you feel now?”
“Like a veil has been lifted. I can see everything clearly, but I'm still trying to determine exactly what I'm seeing. One thing is clear, though.”
“Yes?”
“I can't go back to being L.C. again. He's gone. It was hard enough pretending for my uncle Kevin in Belgium. I know Dennis and Michael saw more Katherine than boy. My uncle had never met Katherine, and he was really drunk... so I don't think he could put his finger on what was wrong. But even then I knew L.C. had ….slipped away from me.... I had kind of ...lost him... I faked it... badly... but I always figured, even then, that when this amazing adventure was over, Michael and I would just go home with a story we couldn't tell, that no one would ever believe anyway, and ….life would just resume.”
Dale just sighed into the phone.
“I know I can return home, but I can never go back.”
“So where does that leave you?”
“Thinking about my future. I mean after I go home and Katherine takes her life back.”
“Where do you see yourself?”
“I honestly don't know. I was hoping, with your insight, that you could help me ...explore my options.”
“We really need to do this face to face.” Dale sighed.
“Funny you should say that” I laughed, my old 'Katherine confidence' slowly returning. “Because while the almighty may have rested on the seventh day, I think Katherine has more business in the city of angels.” I was struck at how my confidence suddenly returned when I stopped thinking about 'life after Katherine' and refocused on life as Katherine.
Dale laughed. “What have you done now?”
“Me?” I asked in all innocence. That only made Dale laugh harder.
“Katherine's schedule was never as busy until you took it over.”
“What can I say? I like to keep busy. ...gives me less time to think....” I teased.
“Riiight. Because just like Katherine, you completely lack introspection!” he laughed.
“I don't think that's true at all!” I said, surprised at how serious I suddenly became. “I think Katherine is a keen observer – in her own way. She sized up the situation, saw what she could and couldn't do about it, and then just put it out of her mind and moved on with her life.”
Now it was Dale's turn to get serious. “You... are... I'll say it again.... a very perceptive girl....”
I didn't know how to respond to that. So I just shrugged. Which works SO well over the phone. Out of frustration, I just blew out some air.
“When you consider your future, you may want to consider psychology.”
I laughed nervously, but I think it sounded scornful.
“Or maybe I could be a criminal profiler.” I laughed.
“You would be very good at it Agent Starling” he teased. “Seriously, I don't believe that you have grasped yet how wide open your future is.”
“All I know is that one door is definitely closed. I slipped through the turnstile before I noticed and I can't go back.”
“Would you really want to, even if you could? One door closes and a whole world opens. Sounds like more than a fair trade.” he said, sounding the way I imagine a father would... yet sounding completely unlike my own father.
“So when I get to town and know my schedule, can I call you and we can see if maybe we can spend some face time?”
“Long overdue” Dale said.
“Yeah. It's been a rough six days” I laughed.
“And sorely needed.” Dale said with such warmth in his voice. I found myself wondering if he was someones dad. And if they knew how lucky they were.
“ I expect to hear from Dez within the hour. I can email you my schedule when I know.”
“Fine. ...And Elsie?....”
“Huh?”
“Relax sweethheart. You're future's unclear, but one thing I am sure of.... it will be brilliant.”
I blushed and bade him goodbye. Grabbed my running gear and went to clear my head.
I headed back to L.A. the next morning. I was beginning to feel comfortable traveling unescorted. I was about to say alone but Katherine was never really without 'people' ...handlers, aides, assistants of one kind or another. I began to realize how many 'little people' the celebrity industry employed and found myself wondering what these people would be doing for a living otherwise. I even began to think of the paparazzi and their role in the ...ecosystem. It may seem like an alternate reality, but Katherine's world was real to the people in it, and I was beginning to better understand how all the pieces fit.
Kirk seemed genuinely happy to see me. He had never been un-friendly, and aside from the ...good natured?... teasing at Brett & Lena's party the night of the premiere, he had always been cheerful and professional. But this time I sensed a real excitement in him. He quickly made it clear that after a long talk with Dez, he was bursting with enthusiasm over my 'big idea'. I realized that in his other musical gigs, he had always been the guy behind the scenes, just part of the creative team, and happy to be there.... but with a crew coming in to document the making of the soundtrack, he would be getting screen time with the rest of the cast, and he was quite looking forward to his 15 minutes of fame. I chatted with him about savoring the thought of sending copies to family, friends and all the people he grew up with who made his own school years so awkward.
“Revenge of the 'Band Geek'?” I kidded. He grinned. “Yeah, success is the sweetest revenge.” I smiled. He was definitely a kindred spirit.
The USC students were both eager and wary. They seemed excited to be part of this team, yet a bit stressed working on such a high profile project. Kirk and I tried to calm their anxieties and gauge their enthusiasm. It was the first time I had been on this side of the hiring process, and I hope I hid that I was at least as nervous about it as they were.
Kirk was my rock. He handled most of the process, gracefully allowing me to interject or ask a question. Fortunately, no one expected Katherine to be too chatty during the interviews. I think my actual role was to sit there like a big preying mantis while Kirk observed how intimidated the interviewees got by my presence. I had Katherine's eerie stillness down cold, so that part was easy. Still, my heart went out to a lot of these kids, knowing that my primary job was to make them squirm.
We wrapped up our last interview/audition at around 5:30 and Kirk invited me to join him for drinks or food. I politely declined, explaining that I had a previous commitment, and asked to hold him to that invite another time.
“I don't recall you ever being this busy.” he smiled. “I always thought you just went back to your hotel....”
“...and crawled back into my sarcophagus until it was time to return to work?” I grinned.
He laughed nervously. “Something like that.... yeah.”
“You obviously never read the tabloids. I used to have fun fun fun... till my daddy took the T-Bird away” I grinned.
His jaw nearly dropped. I don't think he ever expected Katherine to make a joke at her own expense. I thought to myself 'yeah. She would. She doesn't take herself too seriously. It just never occurs to her to joke.' It was an awkward moment and I needed to dispel it.
“Now, I just work work work” I smiled. “...Dinner meeting.”
Kirk nodded. I think he was relieved. After I reminded him of the tabloids, I'm sure he thought back to a time or two when Katherine had been somewhat worse for wear the next morning. I asked him if we could discuss the days candidates over a working breakfast or brunch. He liked the idea, and we agreed to meet the next morning.
Then it was back to the hotel, and get ready for dinner with Doctor Dale.
I had thought a lot about how I wanted to present at this get together. I knew we would be discussing my future... not Katherine's.... not really L.C. anymore.... we would be discussing who I was and who I would be. I wanted to 'tone the Katherine down' as much as I could, but still be as clear as possible who I was now.
The fact that Dale had invited me over to his place and promised me a home cooked meal came as a surprise, but a very welcome one. The casual and private nature of the setting made it possible to dress down much more than I ever would have dared, having to be seen in public as Katherine.
I chose a simple mauve top over a comfortable tee shirt bra, high waisted skinny jeans and simple black ballet style flats. The makeup was basic and understated, and I chose some very simple pewter earrings and matching pendant, a few understated rings and chain bracelet. I wanted to look like I was wearing things I could have bought for myself at any shop anywhere. Even though in truth, everything was custom cut for Katherine's rather unusual frame and therefore fit better than anything I would be able to acquire for myself without a personal tailor. I wanted to play-down any Katherine-ness and highlight the ME-ness. ...or at least the me I aspired to be.
The one indulgence I did allow myself was a spritz of scent. I knew this was Katherine's trademark fragrance, and became gloomy at the thought that, however my life would go after this charade ended, that fragrance would invoke connections to Katherine that I would not risk, so I would have to find a scent of my own, preferably as far away from Katherine's to blur any connections or comparisons. So while I still had the ability, I indulged in her fragrance, which I had come to adore.
I threw my things into my black leather bag, I think it was the simplest purse Katherine owned... Another 'souvenir' of a shoot that had stayed unused in a drawer until I discovered and fell in love with it. I grabbed a black linen blazer and scarf and headed to the lobby to grab a cab. I figured showing up at Dale's house in a limo would be a very Katherine thing to do, and I wasn't sure what his neighbor situation was. For a brief moment, I thought of calling an Uber, but again I wondered if that would be odd, since I was leaving the hotel as Katherine, but arriving at Dales as ….me.
I thought for the briefest instant of driving a rental myself, but Katherine's license had been suspended, and while L.C. had a valid license, if I did get pulled over, the only one they would believe would be Katherine's. So cab it was.
I was glad to have the Hauteshot company card to pay for the cab. Dale lived a lot further out of town than I expected. In a really nice area that lacked the ostentation and tour buses of proper celebrity homes, but still had the stunning views, large grounds and seeming seclusion one expected in posh Hollywood. I guessed that this was where the behind-the-scenes money lived. Studio heads, agents, lawyers... the real meat and muscle of the industry. The cabbie had no trouble finding the place but commented that he never came out here, shrugging and saying folks around here had private drivers.
I tipped him generously enough that he wouldn't grumble about all the fares he was losing on the long drive back. Then, with just the slightest hesitation, I walked up to Doctor Dale's door.
I smirked as I pulled my finger back from the doorbell at the last moment. I made a fist and pounded on his door. I waited a few moments and pounded louder.
When Dale finally opened the door, I looked at him sheepishly and muttered “...I didn't see the bell...”
He hesitated a moment, then his eyes crinkled as he got the callback.
“That's not important.” he smiled. “You're here. And looking.....” he paused. That threw me. “....comfortable....”
“That's a word I wasn't expecting. …..It's.... really accurate... but I wasn't expecting that. What made you choose that word?”
“Well.... I was just reflexively about to say you looked well, or lovely, or some other pat greeting, but as I took a good look at you, I stopped and thought to find the right word. You do. You look well of course, and lovely is a given.... but ...this...” he stepped back and regarded me up and down “....this is new.... It's casual... more casual than I may have ever seen Katherine. I mean, yes I've seen her dressed down and sick with the flu in sweats and flannels... but this is ….together but not really.... I'm not sure exactly how to describe it.... breezy and unpretentious and casual but....”
“I think comfortable sums it up.” I smiled.
“....It's not really a ….Katherine look.....” he frowned.
I laughed. “No. I don't expect 'comfortable' ever was. Which is kind of the point. We're not here to talk about Katherine are we?”
Dale shook his head, gave me another long look and grinned. “We're not really here to talk about L.C. Either. Are we?”
I smiled back. “Maybe in the past tense. Maybe as the prelude to where I go from here. ….after the Katherine thing is over.”
“Yes. We have a lot to talk about.” he smiled and placed his hand in the small of my back as he guided me to his rear deck.
A woman I had never seen before rose as we approached the sliding deck door. She smiled reflexively and startled just slightly as her eyes bore into me.
“Janice Karidoyanes, “ he began the introductions then looked at me uncertainly.
“I'm sorry. We never discussed how you would like to be addressed?”
I thought about it for a moment. Then looked at them both with the most solemn face I could muster.
“I've always been rather partial to 'Your Royal Highness'...” I deadpanned.
That broke the tension and the woman threw her head back with a laugh so full I think it even surprised her.
“Ummm.... I guess Elsie's fine.... it's what people always call me anyway, and I guess it fits as much as anything....” I meekly smiled.
“All right then.” Dale chuckled. “Janice Karidoyanes, Elsie McGuinness.”
I shook her hand politely and got a good look into her eyes. She was still appraising me, but I sensed no malice or apprehension. What was her relationship to Dale, and what had he told her about me? I was sure I would find out before the night was over. Dale primed the pump.
“Janice and I have known each other since school... She's one of my oldest and dearest friends.”
“Oh.... So you're not a....”
“Yes.” She smiled. “' 'Fraid I am..... and I have a wall full of diplomas and licenses to prove it”
“Oh.” Was she here professionally or socially? “...So do I call you Doctor Kary... Karo...” I floundered.
“Karidoyanes” She smiled. “Yeah. It's a mouthful. Just be glad you don't have to spell it! ….just call me Janice.” She had a very soothing demeanor.
“You're a psychiatrist” I smiled. She just stared at me stunned while Dale laughed.
“I told you she was perceptive” he chuckled.
“What on earth gave you that idea?” She asked, clearly startled... but more curious than offended.
“Well, you are a doctor.... and you have a ….let's say you have a more comforting….” I looked at our surroundings and smiled “...deckside manner... than I would expect from an average M.D. ….or god forbid a surgeon.”
She actually laughed at that, and smiled at me genuinely maybe for the first time since we met.
“I'm beginning to understand why Dale's so....” she abruptly caught herself.
I think she was getting too relaxed and almost let slip something she had not intended to divulge. I shrugged it off. I was sure I would sort everything out in time.
“So are you here in a ….professional capacity?” I raised an eyebrow and gave her a sly smile.
Dale quickly interrupted the conversation.
“Where are my manners? Can I get you something to drink? I hear from my spies that you have a fondness for mojitos?”
“Actually, Katherine does.” I smiled. And I caught the two of them exchanging glances.
“...but like so many things about her, I find that I took to them like a duck to water. So yes, please. A mojito would be lovely!” I smiled graciously. As Dale walked off to his wetbar, I refocused on his companion.
She regrouped quickly and found her friendly but slightly distant place.
“Dale and I go way back. He knew me back when I was Janice Leighton... just another struggling med student with big dreams...”
“...AND bigger student loans!” Dale laughed from the wetbar across the large rear deck.
“So, you're married.” I smiled politely.
“WAS....” she returned my smile. “A long, long time ago. It didn't stick. But the name did. ….it just seemed like too much trouble to change all the diplomas and licenses... and besides...” she grinned wickedly, and I heard Dale chortle from across the deck.
“I really like writing 'Subject seems delusional and possibly dangerous to themselves or others. Immediate intervention and medical custody is imperative.... J.K.' ” And she shot me a look. It only took me an instant. My evil smirk made her eyes crinkle. She turned to Dale across the deck. “I see what you mean. She really is!” Then turned her gaze back to me with a conspiratorial smile.
I wasn't sure whether she was pleased that I got her joke, or that my smirk betrayed my twisted sense of humour, but she seemed to relax a bit more, and quickly the evening evolved into a friendly dinner with Dale and his ….ladyfriend.
Dale informed us that he would be barbecueing that evening and realized with some horror that he hadn't inquired as to my dietary restrictions.
“As long as it's not shrimp. That would be kind of racist” I teased. He seemed anxious that I might be vegan and was concerned about what he had to offer that I could eat.
“Don't worry. I mostly eat vegan as Katherine. I don't know if she's full blown vegan or keeps kosher or what.... but personally.... I'm not opposed to the pleasures of flesh.” I quipped. Then gasped when I realized how that sounded! I felt my heart stop and my face burn bright red as I regarded Dale and Janice with a stricken look and I'm sure eyes as wide as saucers. My hands flew to my open mouth and my brain groped – with futility – for words.
They just stopped cold and spun to look at me. I know it was just the briefest of moments, but there was dead silence as I stood there totally mortified. Until they both erupted in laughter.
“Oh GOD!” I blurted. “I didn't MEAN....”
They could barely compose themselves as they held onto each other to keep from doubling over as they heaved hysterically.
“I've heard some Freudian slips in my day....” Janice gasped “...but.....” she struggled for breath as she fought to quell the guffaws. Dale just waved his arm mutely. He still couldn't speak.
Eventually they calmed down and the blood finally left my face for the rest of my body. I was still acutely embarrassed, but things were simmering down.
“Oh my god. If you could have seen your face!” Dale laughed to me while Janice nodded vigorously beside him grinning like an idiot.
“I guess we can add that to our list of things to talk about” she smirked. I cringed in humiliation.
So it was steaks and grilled veggies, a few more mojitos and a lovely shiraz with the meal. Dale and Janice swapped war stories. I found myself thinking these two go back as far as Katherine and Dennis. They both knew each other from the time they were kids deciding who they were going to be in the world. And I started to think about me. Who was I going to be in the world. And would I ever find someone to share it with?
The evening seemed casual and amiable, but I didn't fail to notice that whenever the conversation turned to me, the subject had a certain …consistency and pattern to it. I talked to them about growing up in Newstead. What I recalled about being a really young child ...before I was old enough to go to school. My relationship with kids from school and other non school contemporaries ...of which there was really just my cousins and their friends. I told them about other family relations... mostly uncle Kevin. I could see their discomfort, but made it clear to them that Kevin wasn't picking on me and that he was like that with everyone from total strangers to his own little brother. Which got us on to the subject of my dad. And our ….detente. I made it clear that that was how I chose to view it, because like uncle Kevin, it was what it was, and the only control I had was on how I dealt with it and how I let it affect me. I think I slowly got them to come around and see things from my perspective. Whether they agreed with me or just understood my point of view is unclear.
Then the conversation turned to Katherine and the 'zany scheme' as Dale kept laughingly calling it. Janice seemed to know most or all of this already, but still seemed intrigued to hear it from my perspective. I think she and Dale both agreed that while it seemed preposterous, although typical of the sort of thing the studios would cook up, against all odds it worked beyond anyone's wildest expectations. Because of me.
I blushed and waved it off, but they insisted that I acknowledge that it couldn't have worked with anyone else. Not likely with an actual female Katherine Keller impersonator, and that it was inconceivable with a male Katherine Keller imposter.
“You mean any other male.” I laughed. I was feeling quite uncomfortable at them claiming that I was the human equivalent of a winning lottery ticket.
“No.” Dale said quietly and seriously. “We mean a male.” Janice nodded solemnly.
“Well. I was.... I mean I still am technically....” it was frustrating trying to sort this out precisely.
“Do you really still believe that?” Janice asked. “After what you've been through? After what you have told us of your childhood?”
“Oh.” Dale turned to Janice. “You have to ask her about the spa. And the ….epiphany... did you call it?” He shot me a look. I nodded glumly.
“I know you're telling us about L.C. growing up. About his experiences, and reactions. So we're asking you to think back on them again... as Elsie growing up... about the things that happened to her... and how she reacted to them under the circumstances, and the way everyone treated her.” Dale said not unkindly.
I reflected a bit while they both observed me, sipping their wine in the crisp night air. I think they saw me scowl as I re-parsed things and thought about Elsie's childhood. What would surely be the same and what might have been different, and in what ways. I think they read on my face the emotion welling up as I reflected on what might have been, because Dale stood up with a loud sigh.
“Anyone for more wine?” he asked with just slightly forced joviality. Janice shook 'no'. I smiled weakly and offered my empty glass. As he walked over to the bottle, Janice leaned into me.
“What's past is passed. You made it through to who you are here and now.” she smiled comfortingly. I returned a weak smile. “The real question is where do we go from here?”
“You mean where do I go?” I smiled forlornly.
“You're not in it alone you know. It's your journey, but you're not alone. No one goes through this alone.... it takes..”
“..A village?” I smirked. She mock scowled.
“I was going to say a team.... but yeah.... I guess a village is a kind of team... each member has their role.”
“So you're saying, you think I can....”
She smiled warmly and the twinkle in her eye made me blush.
“OK. I can't say anything officially. This was just some friends getting acquainted over dinner. Strictly social. But Dale wanted me to meet you. He STRONGLY wanted me to meet you. And I trust his judgement. And everything he told me about you has been more than borne out by our meeting tonight. I would really like to work with you professionally.”
“As a psychologist...” I said hesitantly.
“Psychiatrist. Actually my title is gender therapist.” she smiled. I nodded. Of course.
“So this dinner was really an audition... a screening?”
She shook her head vehemently. “No! It really was a dinner. Dale just thought we'd hit it off, and whenever he'd talk about you ….we really are old friends and colleagues.... well, he told me, in professional confidence about the plan to bring in a double while Katherine was ...out of circulation, and how he'd been called in, which was not too unusual as he is Katherine's regular physician. Then he started to regale me with stories he was hearing about how well you were handling the masquerade. He got me intrigued, but I was skeptical about some of the stories I was hearing. So I began looking for myself... Googling Katherine Keller in the news. I saw the Catalina photos and was stunned to think you weren't the real Katherine. Then between Dale's tales and my guilty pleasure of reading Katherine Keller news online, I was growing to share Dale's fascination with this mysterious ringer who was more Katherine than Katherine. Then he called me with his suspicion that you had been covertly seeking the real Katherine. How she had noticed a guy stalking near her house but he wasn't behaving like a paparazzo. Dale wondered if you hired someone to find her. Then you abruptly cut your Europe tour off. He was certain you'd twigged. He has a sixth sense about that sort of thing. He used his connection as Katherine's doctor to get your flight info and high tailed it to Connecticut to intercept you before your big confrontation.”
I just nodded. Seeing all the pieces fall together.
“It was all just conversation between old friends who could confide in each other. I've always loved his tales of Hollywood behind the curtains and, I have to admit, this was by far the best one yet.”
I smiled wanly.
“We got together after he flew back with you, and I was naturally eager to hear about 'the confrontation'. He told me everything he witnessed, as well as Katherine's version of what happened before he arrived. Then he told me of your conversation on the plane. About how you had almost instantly grasped Katherine in a way he had never before witnessed and was still trying to wrap his head around.”
I nodded. She stopped and regarded me for a moment, and sucked in a long breath.
“Then he told me about L.C.”
Funny to think back on it. She was the one who inhaled deeply, yet I was the one who kind of deflated with a large exhale. We just stared at each other for the longest time. I think we were both trying to read the other. I think we both failed.
“So you didn't know?” I finally said quietly. She shook her head vehemently.
“Not only did I not know, even when he told me, I couldn't actually believe it. I SAW the Catalina photos online.... the You Tube videos of various press appearances... I read tweets and rumors about some of your stunts. I had been impressed by it all. But to think this was all done by someone the world believed to be ...and raised as... a BOY? I've been a gender therapist for years and pride myself on being more open minded than most. But I really couldn't wrap my head around THAT. Dale saw that I was struggling to reconcile this. THAT is why he invited me here. ...and he thought we might hit it off. I think we have.”
I nodded.
“You're bright and insightful, charming and certainly NOT Katherine Keller.”
“I'm deliberately trying NOT to be tonight.”
“Mission accomplished. Granted, you still look uncannily like her.... even though I can't imagine her wearing.....”
“...kind of the point.” I shrugged. “And as for the resemblance... yeah, even sopping wet in a hoodie and cargo pants and my own shorter lighter hair, making no effort to.... I kinda... well, that's how this all started.”
She nodded. “That I can see. And I can see what gave them the idea. The opportunity just fell into their lap and they took it. And YOU ran with it.” she smiled. “There's just one thing I can not wrap my head around.”
I shot her a quizzical look.
“How in HELL did you convince anyone you were a BOY for 18 years?”
I shrugged. “I wasn't very good at it.”
Janice smirked. I suddenly felt the need to defend L.C.
“Look, I have no boobs ….to speak of.” There was just the slightest bit of puffy, flabby pectoral muscle which I grabbed and squeezed through my tee. Ouch.
“Neither does Katherine.” she said flatly.
“I have no hips either!”
“I'm told Katherine wears pads.” she said matter of factly. I nodded. Wait, did I just betray that I knew about the pads?
“And you don't really shave?” she inquired. I shook my head sadly. “Your frame is rather ….slender”
“I'm sturdier than I look” I protested.
“But no one would ever call you ...beefy.”
I cast my eyes down as I let out a tiny, bitter laugh. No. No one would ever call me 'beefy'.
“But between my legs.... no one can refute that I have...”
Janice nodded and held up her index finger to interrupt me... then changed it to her baby finger as if to make a point.
“Marginal. I think Dale used the term ...borderline....”
“Borderline? What's THAT supposed to mean? Borderline WHAT?”
“Have you ever heard the term 'ambiguous genitalia'? There's sometimes a very fine line.... often a very blurry line... between an abnormally stunted penis and an abnormally enlarged clitoris. It pretty much comes down to plumbing, and....”
“I pee just FINE.” I found myself getting defensive. Why on earth was I defending having a penis? I really had no great love for the thing, and had actually found doctor Dale's handiwork a great source of relief.... at least for being Katherine.
“All right. You pee through it. Is that all?”
“What do you mean is that all? That's what it's.... oh.”
She nodded solemnly. I simply blushed and nodded nearly unnoticably.
“Look. That's something we can discuss should you decide we should start a relationship. Which I for my part, hope we do. You and Katherine are perhaps more alike than you realize. The difference is that she is who she is and is OK with it. While you are still in the process of discovering who you are.”
“I know that L.C. the boy is in my past.”
She nodded.
“I don't really know about the future. I really need to know if I can live as a woman.”
She started to say something but I held my hand up.
“Look. I know deep down.... in my heart of hearts who I am. What I am. I just don't know if I'll be able to convince the world or if I'll just have to live a lie for the rest of my life.”
She wasn't expecting THAT. “...part of the process is a Real Life Test. But you've already been living as a woman with spectacular success for months now!”
I smiled at her sadly. Shaking my head slowly as I spoke. “I have been living as Katherine Keller. An absurdly rich and pampered celebrity with minions to do everything for her, from choosing her wardrobe and doing her hair and makeup, to cooking her meals and keeping everything in her life purring smoothly. What part of THAT is a 'Real Life Test'?”
Janice gave me a look, a long penetrating look that slowly blossomed into a wide smile.
“God, Dale said you were bright and perceptive, but he doesn't grasp the half of it!”
She started nodding vigorously as she spoke. “You're absolutely right. We know you are totally comfortable portraying a celebrity supermodel 24/7. A FEMALE celebrity. And yes, that does count for something. A lot, in fact. Still, you're absolutely right. That is in no way a real life test. So. What do you propose to do about it?”
“Well, first.....” I kneaded my chin as if lost in thought, although I long had known what I would say when this moment finally arrived.
Janice regarded me patiently.
“First I think I'd like to start growing some boobs.”
The dumbstruck look on her face quickly turned to hearty laughter.
“I could probably be working a respectable B cup by now if Dale actually put anything GOOD in those shots!” I said loudly so he could hear us. I knew he was keeping his distance so we could chat privately. He turned back to me smiling.
“Sorry. No can do. You have to be Katherine, so breasts and curves are out for now! Anyway, giving you 'the good stuff' as you call it would be a no-no without proper bloodwork and other fun stuff first. I know my reputation, but you of all people know that reality can be quite different than what 'everyone knows'!” He said with a wicked grin.
I just smiled back. “A girl can DREAM, can't she?”
Janice laughed. “Look, if you'd like to, I'd like to start seeing you as soon as we can. I know you still have the Katherine thing to do, so I think the blockers are just fine for now. Still, I'd like to get some bloodwork and some physical exams.... bone density scans... have you ever had a DNA test?” I shook my head. “Well, there's a lot we can do in the 'laying out the groundwork' department. Lots to talk about too. Legal matters.... documentation.... family matters....”
“Oh God.” I blanched.
“Everything in its time. It all starts with intent.”
I nodded.
“OK. Just for the record. What do you intend?”
“I intend to correct the medical and bureaucratic issues preventing me from living my life as the female that I now realize I've always actually been.”
“Not exactly legal boilerplate, but clear and concise. Fine. We can sort out the legal niceties when we actually start filling out paperwork. I just wanted to be certain of what you wanted.”
“Could I be more clear?” It sounded snarky, but it wasn't meant that way, and I don't think she took it that way. She shook her head.
“Nope. Couldn't be clearer.” she smiled.
We all toasted to the future, sparkly bright. I groaned when I realized what time it was and wondered how easy cabs were to get in Brentwood at this hour. Doctor Dale graciously offered me a guest room and speculated that Katherine may have left some items in the drawers that I was welcome to. I had no idea that Katherine had ever stayed at Doctor Dale's, and realized that there was still an awful lot I did not know.
I graciously accepted the room, but found that the only thing Katherine – or someone – had left in the drawers was an old baseball cap. So I just stripped off my pants and jewelry and prepared to sleep in my tee and undies.
I was so tired and fuzzy from the wine that I almost forgot to remove my makeup, so I found my way to the bathroom down the hall and scrubbed my face. I had a quick pee and padded back to my room to crash for the night. In the hall Janice and I startled each other. I don't know if she was sleeping with Dale or in another room, and figured it was none of my business as long as they didn't keep me up all night. Janice just stood there, looking me up and down standing bashful in my tee and panties.
“How the HELL did you ever pull off being a boy for 18 years?” she grinned.
“Beats the hell out of me.” I wearily shrugged and staggered off to bed.
I woke to the smell of fresh coffee and toast. And the sticky taste of regret. It took a few moments to peel the film from my brain and get my bearings. Once I finally sorted out where I was, I tried to remember how many mojitos I had the night before. I thought I had been modest and well behaved the night before, but it sure didn't feel like it this morning. Then I thought mojitos + wine with dinner = morning remorse. Lesson learned. I gingerly dressed and didn't even bother putting on makeup. I just shuffled to the rest room and put a cold wet cloth on my face. That helped a little. I staggered like a zombie downstairs and found Dale and Janice on the sunny back deck.
“Now you're looking more like Katherine!” Dale laughed and handed me a glass of what I presumed was juice. “Drink it down all at once.” he admonished. “Trust me. I'm a doctor”
“So was Kevorkian” I grumbled. That brought a laugh from my two hosts. But I did as I was told and tossed it back quickly. I wasn't sure I'd be able to hold it down, but that didn't seem to be a problem. It tasted like cough medicine.
“Ech! I thought this was juice!” I moaned.
“Juice based.” Dale grinned. “But much more high tech. You're dehydrated and your blood sugar's likely shot. Lots of sweet fruit juices, megavitamins, anti inflammitories and some natural painkillers. ….kind of home made red bull.... but better” he grinned. “Trust me. I've been working in this town for years. I've learned how to make a quick fix-me-up.”
I had my doubts, but within a short while I was feeling human again. The aroma of breakfast was actually making me feel hungry, which took me by surprise. Dale offered to fix me something, but I figured it was safest to just have some dry toast and an egg white omelet. Which Dale gleefully prepared on his gas grill. Janice caught my look.
“What is it with boys and open flames?” she grinned. I smiled and shook my head.
“I think they're just finding their inner Flintstone.” I teased as I gave Dale a look. Janice nodded gleefully. “I say, whatever it takes to get them to cook.” That crack earned a big smile from Doctor Karidoyanes and a snort from Doctor Dale.
As my brain slowly approached full function, I scowled and excused myself while I went inside and fished for my phone. When I reached Kirk and nervously asked if we could reschedule our brunch meeting, he just laughed.
“I didn't know what you had planned when you told me you had a prior commitment last night, but I already knew the odds of brunch were 50/50 at best. Have fun and we'll talk later.” he said airily and without the slightest hint of annoyance or resentment. I breathed a sigh of relief and swore to make it up to him.
I explained to Dale and Janice about my frantic call to Kirk. Dale just waved it off, saying no one expects Katherine to make meetings more than half the time... and morning meetings are much longer odds. I still felt badly, but I must admit a sort of guilty relief that Katherine had set the bar so low that no one got angry when things didn't go as planned.
Dale, Janice and I had a leisurely brunch and chatted. I didn't feel like a specimen under a microscope. If Janice Karidoyanes was sizing me up, she was very very subtle. We mostly talked about the odd bubble that Katherine lived in, and I sensed that both Doctors were relieved to see that while I adjusted to it startlingly fast, I never for a moment lost sight of how surreal it all was. Janice obliquely hinted that it would make it much easier to transition from Katherine's world into the world where I'd begin to create a life for myself as Elsie.
I reminded her that I was still going to be a resident alien in Katherine's world for the better part of a month while we toured Asia and collaborated on the original cast album. I asked Dale if he had any idea how Katherine would feel about that. He dismissed my concern, assuring me that he knew her long enough that he was pretty confident that she would understand it was just another requirement the studio placed on the Thornbirds cast, as escalating commitments were commonplace in her world. He was certain that her primary reaction would be relief that I was doing her 'additional chores' since the only thing that caused her more distress than the Australian accent was the singing. He assured me that she would be more than fine with me doing all the work while she got all the credit. I was just excited to get the chance to do this project, even if no one else never knew it was me. It would be an amazing experience I would always treasure, and I was already being ridiculously well paid for the whole Katherine gig. I would know. Mikey would know. And Dez of course. I was fine with that and still grateful for the amazing adventure.
I shared a few ideas I had for P.R. stunts on the Asia tour with Dale and Janice and caught their exchanged glances. Finally Dale just laughed and said “I can't imagine how you expect to pull any of that off.... but given your track record... I look forward to seeing how you manage it.”
Janice just nodded and asked “Have you given any thought to our working together? I must admit, I found all the stories on the web a bit hard to believe... but after meeting you and spending some time.... I really really want to get to know you better Ms McGuinness.” She gave me a big, warm smile.
“I'd like that too.... but I don't see how it will be possible.”
She slumped a bit and looked a tad perplexed.
“I'm just here on a temporary visa. As soon as the Katherine gig is up, I'm supposed to go back home and be L.C. again.” I frowned.
She started to say something, but I raised a hand and she let me go on.
“We all know that not ALL of that is going to happen. But the expiring visa and going back to Oz... Well, that seems unavoidable. It looks like I'll just have to find my way on my own.... unless you can give me a referral” I said with a mixture of hope and sadness.
She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. Finally, she said with just the slightest smile “You of all people should know not to make presumptions. What part of your trip to the states has gone as expected since that first day?”
I grinned. She had a point. “I really would like to see you professionally... though I have no idea how on earth that could happen. Still, you're right. I will entertain the possibility in the remote hope that somehow we will find a way to make it happen.”
She nodded vigorously. “That's good enough for me for now. Something tells me that you ...or fate... or something... will find a way. Improbable seems to be your middle name.” she grinned.
“Actually, I was thinking of 'Claire'” I smiled. “Last night I gave it some thought and decided to sleep on it. I like my initials, if not my name. I'd like to eventually get it changed to Laura Claire, I could still be L.C. or Elsie... to those who knew me... if they still want to speak to me.” I shrugged. Strangely, I wasn't really bothered by this. L.C. didn't really have any friends, and even my relatives were at best politely distant, or at worst ...uncle Kevin. So if they wanted nothing to do with me, little would actually change. I found myself more concerned at the thought of the new people I would meet as Elsie. Since this was my true face, it suddenly mattered how people felt.
She nodded. “Why Laura Claire? ...if I may ask.”
I shrugged. “Grandparents. Laura is my mother's mum. I love her to bits. She's so fun and full of life. She lives near my uncle Shaun and I look forward to seeing her every time we visit him. Claire was my dad's mum. She died when I was really little. I just remember her being very old and very sad. But I guess she was formidable in her day. My mum used to tell me stories of when she and my dad were courting. I think the word she used was 'imperious'. So, yeah. I think taking both my grandmothers names would be a great way to honor where I came from.” I grinned at her. “I get to keep old family names and don't even have to change my initials. I never did know who the hell Lorenzo and Carlton were.”
Janice looked at me oddly. There was something in her eyes, but I couldn't sort it.
“Is it possible that you were always intended to be named after your grandmothers, and when you came out and the doctors said 'boy', your parents quickly improvised and you became Lorenzo Carlton?”
I was so stunned I forgot to breathe. Why hadn't this thought ever occurred to me? It made so much more sense than any of the nonsense I'd been told whenever I asked. I just stared ashenly. I think I may have nodded. I'm not sure. I was having a brain cramp. I think my reaction told Janice everything she needed to know, because she quickly jumped into 'damage control' mode.
“Oh well... she said airily. Something else to discuss with your mother when the time arrives. Meanwhile, doesn't Katherine have a full schedule? I'm heading back into the city. I could drop you.”
I nodded mutely, still struggling to wrap my head around everything. Then I realized that it was time to pull it together and get back into Katherine mode. There was a lot to do, and the morning was wasting fast.
I called Kirk from Janice's car .
“Thanks for giving me a pass on the working brunch. I had dinner at Dale Coughlin's and the conversation went so long, it just made more sense to stay the night.”
“Doctor Dale?”
“Yeah. He's my... well, we had a lot to discuss with the upcoming Asia trip.... especially after the ...premature end to the Europe tour.”
“Oh, right. I totally forgot. So, are you all recovered?”
“Fully certified and good to go.” I laughed.
“So last night was ...a housecall?”
I laughed. “In an inside out sort of way. Only Doctor Dale could persuade his patients to visit him at home.” I laughed and caught Janice's glance. “Besides, he grills a really mean sirloin.”
Kirk snorted. “I'd scrutinize his next bill and make sure he didn't itemize that as 'protein supplements' or something.”
I just laughed. Doctor Dale did seem to have a reputation. But the better I came to know him, the more I trusted him.
“So, what's on for today?” I tried to steer him back to business.
“Well, Eoin flew in from Toronto this morning, so...”
I reflexively squealed, which I quickly stifled, but not before getting a ...look... from Janice.
“So, piece by piece the team's getting back together!” I exclaimed, making no effort to hide the excitement in my voice. “He can help us pick out the documentary crew!”
“Well, not today. He has a commitment this afternoon. A celebrity fundraiser...”
“In the afternoon?”
“Well, actually it's a charity softball game.... for Hollywood Cares.... at UCLA”
“UCLA?”
“University of California Los An...”
“Yeah. I get it... and it makes more sense than Dodger stadium I guess....UCLA. So it's Eoin and a team of celebs playing ball against college kids for charity?”
“Pretty much.”
“Oh... nobody mentioned it to me.”
“Would you actually GO?”
“Well, sure.... it's for a good cause.... hell, if they asked, I'd actually have played.”
Kirk snorted. “Yeah right. OK. I'm calling your bluff. We're going to the game to root for the team.”
“Which one?”
“What do you mean which one?”
“Well, sure I'm SAG, but some of those college jocks are really hunky.... then again, I suppose our team needs all the support it can get... going up against real athletes...”
Kirk just sighed and I could tell he was shaking his head. “Fine. I'll pick you up at 2.”
“Make it 2:30. I'm staying at....”
“God. Katherine.... don't you think I know by now? You are such a creature of habit....”
“Well, if I'm that predictable, maybe I need to shake things up a bit.”
“Uh.... what do you mean by that?”
“I'm not sure yet” I said, and I knew Kirk could hear the smile in my voice “...but I'll come up with something.”
“Dare I ask what that was all about?” Janice inquired after I put my phone away.
“Oh, there's a charity fundraiser this afternoon ….for Hollywood Cares... and no one even asked me if I wanted in.” I pouted.
“I take it you do. What kind of charity fundraiser?”
“A softball game at UCLA. I'm crashing it anyway. At least I can watch.” I was getting a bit upset about being excluded.
“Is that really the sort of thing Katherine would do?” Janice asked gently. I think she could see I was getting agitated and was trying to talk me down.
I shrugged. “Maybe not. But I think I've demonstrated that the Katherine who routinely runs the paparazzi ragged is certainly up to a game of celebrity softball.” I made no attempt to hide my wounded pride.
“I'm not so sure Katherine would want to spend all day in the sun watching actors play team sports.”
“It's not just actors.... there are singers too... and dancers....” The more I argued my position, the weaker it got. Until I found my ace. “AND probably stuntpeople!”
She laughed. “I'm sure the seats will be filled with people wanting to witness feats of athletic prowess!”
“Oh, cut us some slack!” I groaned.
“US? YOU were not invited.”
I grimaced. “You're right. I'll show them....”
Janice glanced over at me. “.....you're planning something.... what?”
“Nothing.” I pouted. She just continued glancing at me while negotiating her way through traffic... saying nothing. Finally I broke.
“....Yet...” I muttered quietly. I saw her smirk out of the corner of my eye. We were almost to my hotel.
“Need a lift?” she asked, innocently enough. I just looked at her.
“...I mean to the game... My afternoon is free, and something tells me I want to see this.”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself. But no promises you'll see anything. Can I trouble you to make a quick stop before I get ready?”
Janice was kind enough to let me make a quick run into a Sports Authority store on the way to my hotel. She stood, arms crossed, near the front of the store, observing me as I tore through the place quickly honing in on exactly what I wanted.
It took no more than ten minutes. When she commented on this, I told her of my 'date' with Jared and how he did not believe I could get ready in ten minutes, but clocked me at eight. In both cases, I cited my SNL experience as tremendous training in getting the most done in as little time possible.
She shook her head and smiled. “When I was growing up there was this game show where people would shop against a timer. You would have bankrupted them.”
“It's all about focus. I know what I need to crash a softball game, but I hadn't packed anything because this was never part of the agenda.” I smiled.
She just grinned and glanced at my large shopping bag. “Something tells me, this is gonna be good.”
“From your lips to God's ear.” I grinned back.
Janice accompanied me up to my hotel room. OK, it was really a suite. She just took it all in, a bit wide eyed. She reminded me of my cousin Mikey that first night when we went to Dez's suite.
“Is this typical?” she asked still sounding distracted as she seemed to be trying to take everything in.
I shrugged. “Yeah. Pretty much.” then I made eye contact with her and grinned “...for Katherine.”
“When you said being Katherine wasn't a 'Real Life Test', I kind of understood, but ...this...” she swept her gaze around the suite. “I really get it now.”
I smiled back at her. “Yeah. It's kind of like 'how are you going to keep them on the farm in Kansas once they've been to Oz'” Then the irony hit me and I laughed. “Or in my case... how are you going to keep them in Oz....”
Janice chuckled back, and shot me a warm look. “I think your odds are better than most. You seem to be staying grounded and keeping everything in perspective. You don't seem to be taking any of this for granted.”
I shrugged. “Well, I have to in a way... to be convincing as Katherine, I have to take all the trappings of her world in stride. But I can't lose sight of the world I came from, and the world I will return to when this is all over.” Suddenly all the implications of that statement hit me, and I think for just a moment my expression went ashen. It was just for an instant until I noticed and put my game face back on, but Janice caught it. She gave me a long, penetrating look.
“It won't be Katherine's world, that's for sure. But it really won't be L.C's world either, will it?”
I shook my head. “Not in any way that really matters. Still, it's a world of finding a job, finding a place to live....” It was sounding glum, but I found a way to lighten it up AND make my point. I grinned at her. “It will be a world without ….minions.”
Janice laughed. “Some people need minions. They would be helpless without them. YOU... don't strike me as helpless.”
I smiled at the compliment. “I hope not... or I'm done for. No. I'm sure things will work out. Though for the life of me I have no idea how... but all I really need to know is the general direction and the next specific step. And right now that means getting ready to crash the game.” I grinned and dashed into the bathroom for a quick shower and to prepare.
I breezed out of the bathroom, fully dressed, plopped down in front of the mirror for a quick touch-up, pulled my hair into a tight ponytail and fed it through the back of the baseball cap, grabbed my new satin baseball jacket, slung my bag over my shoulder and grinned to Janice. “Let's go.”
She raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. I knew she was expecting something more than a long sleeved top and a pair of loose madras slacks. She would find out soon enough, I chuckled to myself.
We found the 'charity game' on one of the UCLA practice fields. For a fundraiser, there was a remarkable lack of publicity. The stands seemed reasonably full, so I guess they had some publicity, but I couldn't spot it. They also had a camera crew. A large camera crew. Were these press or some in-house publicity machine? I couldn't tell. It looked like the game was underway, so Janice and I made our way into the stands.
I looked for Kirk, but didn't see him. We watched a few familiar Hollywood faces come up to bat. They all seemed like the new crop of future heartthrobs. Not exactly a cross section of Hollywood... and surprisingly absent the usual faces you see in the press coverage of these industry charity events. Where were the veteran action stars who had the time in their schedules at this point in their careers to attend these events and sign autographs for fans who remembered them? Where were the B-listers eager to be seen hobnobbing with the big names? This field seemed like all young up and comers. And all guys, I noted with more than a trace of annoyance. What, did someone not want any women on their celebrity team? We were half of Hollywood, and I could instantly think of a dozen names of female action stars who could easily hold their own with these boys. And they were boys. It was really hard to tell the USC students from the SAG members. Except I recognized a few faces from some of those Disney teen musicals Mikey liked to watch, and I think a few were familiar from small indy films. Still, it was all beefcake. No not even beef. Veal. Was this a cross section of the industry or just the cast of a Magic Mike spinoff? And what would Eoin be doing in this crowd? Besides drooling, I snickered to myself. This was not at all what I expected.
Suddenly one of the batters got brushed back by a pitch, and time was called. A guy walked out to the pitcher's mound, and suddenly I recognized Eoin. He was managing this team? That seemed like a waste. I knew from experience that he was fit, and as a dancer he was also agile and had stamina and coordination. Why wouldn't they let him play? I glanced at Janice, confusion on my face. She returned my querulous look.
“What?” she said.
“This isn't at all what I expected. They're all awfully young.”
“Says the eighteen year old pretending to be twenty four” she wickedly whispered in my ear.
“No. It's not that. I expected a ...cross section... it's a charity game. Where are the usual faces? The Benjamin Bratts and Damon Wayans? Jennifer Garner and Geena Davis... the folks who always turn out for these charity events?”
Janice just shrugged. “You seem to know a lot more about these than I do”
“My cousin is kind of celebrity obsessed. I've seen my share of celebrity charity things. But this isn't like any of them.” I explained. Janice nodded absentmindedly. I'm not sure if she understood what I was saying, but she seemed content to watch the sweaty young guys run around the field.
There was some kind of break. All the players left the field, but the game didn't seem to be over. The public address system announced a fifteen minute break. This seemed really odd for a baseball game, but as the crowd stretched and the teams on the field regrouped, I excused myself and made my way down to the field.
I saw Eoin before he saw me. He was talking to one of the young players and a guy with a camera.
“Sweetie!” I shrieked and ran up to him, wrapping my hands around his neck and planting a huge (Hollywood) smooch around his firmly shut lips. I really played it up, standing on my toes on one leg, kicking the other behind me like every goofy 1950s romance movie. This was actually a lot more difficult than I expected, since most 1950s ingenues were shorter than their leads – even if it meant the guys had to stand on boxes, so stretching up on toes for a smooch worked for a great silhouette, but I was substantially taller than Eoin, so I actually had to stand back a bit, arch my back to use up some extra height and place much of my weight on my arms around his neck. Fortunately he didn't recoil or I would have fallen flat on my face. I actually think the arched back thing may have made the look even more sexy. Yeah, this moment called for a Hollywood Kiss, so I gave the bystanders the whole classic thing.
Eoin was startled in many ways. I think he would have been happy to see me under other circumstances, but he was so surprised there was no room for any other emotion.
As I pulled my face back and beheld his adoringly, cradling it in my hands and squeezing it like a baby's... with just a hint of mischief in my eyes, he muttered through his scrunched and contorted face (I was NOT letting up) “Oh. So we're still doing this are we?”
I couldn't read his expression. Of course I couldn't. I was squeezing his face so tightly with my hands he couldn't even make an expression of his own. I removed them and placed them on his shoulders, smiling.
“As far as I know, since we still have Asia coming up. Then you're free to dump me.” I pouted overdramatically. I was met by a warm grin. I was relieved to realize that we were still good.
Then he furrowed his brow and looked over my shoulder at something that dismayed him.
“KELLER!” The voice shouted. I quickly spun around to see one really annoyed woman storming toward me.
I recognized her almost instantly. She was another Australian who came to the states to make her fame and fortune. I think she and Katherine may have crossed paths when her modeling career was winding down and Katherine was just starting out. I knew her best from her many roles in quirky films and cult TV series. She always played a rich or spoiled ….bitch.... who always gets her way one way or another. But she also is outrageously funny, in a very under-the-radar way. I was a very big fan. Let me clarify... L.C. was a very big fan.... but it looked like she and Katherine had … a thing....
“What the hell are YOU doing here?” she demanded.
“I heard there was a charity game, so I came out to support my sweetie!” I made doe eyes at Eoin, who just kind of squirmed.
She rolled her eyes and shot him a glare. He shrunk down and muttered “...I have to... um do this.... um.... GO....” and he quickly scurried off. Leaving the two of us kind of facing off. I really wasn't sure what was happening... but I figured I'd sort it out.
“I was a little hurt that I wasn't even asked.... but then, I thought it would be a more ...diverse... team. Now I don't feel so snubbed, since I'm not a 17 year old boy.” I grinned looking at all the guys milling around.
She just snorted and started to say something, but caught herself.
“You wasted your time coming here. It's not what you think. And you can tell Eoin that you two are not fooling anyone. I'm not an idiot!” She spun on her heels and strode off. I turned to look for Eoin, who was standing alone about 20 meters away looking very sheepish. I walked over to him and he made no effort to get away. He just stared uncomfortably at the ground.
“What was all that about?” I asked.
“I had no idea you were coming. How did you even find out?”
“Kirk-”
Eoin cut me off with a snort. “Of course. Me and my big mouth. If I knew you were coming I would have warned you. I think you're the last person she was expecting to see.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Rather than clearing things up, I was getting more confused. “I thought this was a celebrity game for charity?”
“Well.... sort of” he replied meekly. “The cover story is that it's a fundraiser for Hollywood Cares, and they ARE getting a sizable contribution. But it's also a kind of a guerrilla shoot for a project that we're trying to get greenlit. It's a teen comedy about a bunch of rich boys whose prep school goes under when all their parents are wiped out by a Bernie Madoff type swindler and they go on the road as a minor league team won in a divorce owned by one of the kids rich stepmothers played by...” and he cocked his head in the direction of my ….'nemesis?' “....I play the bookish English teacher who gets drafted to manage the team and ….distract... the rich bitch owner.”
“So this isn't a charity game at all?”
“Sort of. The charity's getting a sizable donation, but it's also kind of a casting call for ballplayers... and a way to shoot some pages we can polish up and take to the studio to greenlight the project that we have already started shooting.” he grinned.
I grinned back ...sadly. “Too bad. Because I came to play!”
Eoin smiled back. “Shhhh... we came to work.... but maybe after we're done, we can see if anyone is interested in a little pickup game.”
I nodded and made my way back to the stands. Now that I realized what was going on, things made more sense. No one would take a fifteen minute break in a game, but whoever had planned this obviously wanted to review the footage they had and discuss whatever else they still wanted to get. Suddenly, the game on the field became far less interesting. I filled Janice in on what was really going on and mentioned that I no longer felt hurt at not being invited. She just shot me a look. I then pulled out my smart phone and started searching for the woman on the field I had just had the run in with.
I got the usual Wikpedia, IMDB & celebrity site hits until I searched for her name and Katherine Keller. Then I got hundreds of hits on 'the feud'.
I had no idea. Apparently it went way back. I could not get specifics on just what caused it, but it seems like these two wrangled since Katherine's earliest modeling days and peaked when Katherine 'stole' the Thornbirds role from her... I wasn't sure reading the quotes if this was a real enmity or just another bit of drama cooked up to keep both of us in the press. Yes, I was thinking of myself as Katherine, because at the moment, for all intents and purposes, I was. So it was best to find out if this feud was real or a publicity scheme like the romance with Eoin.
We watched a little more of the game, then the crowd was directed over the P.A. to leave the stands and rush onto the field after the next play, which I presume was to be the big climax. It all went like clockwork, the 'team' rushing out to storm the pitcher after catching a line drive and ending the game. I grabbed Janice by the elbow and explained that we had best join them or we would be the only ones left in the stands, drawing attention to ourselves and possibly ruining the shot. Once we got down to the field, I pushed her to join the crowd and mentioned that I could not be in any crowd shot since I could stand out. I slipped away behind the cameras and watched the scene play out right down to Eoin sweeping my rival up in his arms and carrying her off with the joyous crowd as she grabbed the cap from his head and tossed it into the air. I guess if you're going to steal a move, you could do worse than Debra Winger, and knowing how Hollywood likes the familiar, I'm sure that move just made the project even more bankable.
Everything was finished and Eoin put her down as he walked toward me grinning.
“I think we got it.” he said to his costar as she struggled to ...dismount.
She just shrugged and shot me a glare. “....Freak...” she nodded icily.
“...bitch...” I replied with a nod of my own. I sensed a Seinfeld/Newman vibe between us and hoped I played it right. Judging from her scornful smirk, I did.
“That's a wrap everyone.” A voice said over the P.A. System. “Thanks for all your help. Extras to the tables by craft services for pay and paperwork.”
Quickly a crowd gathered around us as people sought autographs, Eoin and the rest of the cast were gracious and entertaining, but when people started asking for MY autograph as well, I caught a contemptuous glare from my rival... which made me all the more happy to comply.
“She has nothing to do with this!” I heard her declare to anyone willing to listen. “What is she even doing here?”
“I thought it was a charity game. I came to help. And play if I could.”
She just snorted.
“I thought I could help raise money. I still do. Tell you what....” I said loudly to my rival “Right here, right now.... if we can get enough people for two teams... you and me... three innings.”
“What are the stakes?” she shot back.
“If you win.... I'll sell my Boxter and donate all the proceeds to Hollywood Cares.”
“That's if you ever get it out of impound!” she snorted.
“If not, I'll match the bid out of pocket.” I said. I had just put a big chunk of Katherine's money on the line. I would worry about that later.
“And if you win?.... What do you want from me?”
“Your green card?” I smirked. That was met with a snort and an icy glare.
“Forget it freak. I married a citizen. I'm not going anywhere.”
I smiled at how easily she could be goaded.
“And she's welcome to you too.” I smiled. “I was teasing. But it's not the fun I expected. Too easy.” I shot another amused look.
“It doesn't matter because I'm not going to lose.”
“Don't you mean WE? It takes a team.”
“I. We. Same difference.” she was getting really annoyed.
“Sure thing your highness.” I grinned, which drew a laugh from the crowd gathering around us. I spotted Janice hanging toward the back, a slight smile on her face.
“OK. Who wants to help me put this arrogant gatecrasher in her place?” she yelled into the crowd.
Everyone squirmed awkwardly, reluctant to get involved in this catfight, let alone publicly pick sides. I put up my hands and looked into the crowd.
“Look, it's OK. We need two teams to settle this. And it IS for charity. So please, help us out here – whichever side you end up on.” I smiled. People started stepping forward.
“I'm not just taking whoever volunteers. We need to pick our teams. Any problem with that, Keller?”
I just smiled serenely, shook my head and waved my hands before me in acquiescence. Which only annoyed her more.
I thought we'd alternate our picks, but she immediately pointed to nine people and snapped “You! You.... You... You... yes YOU... get over here! ….you” etc. Her team seemed more like conscripts than volunteers. After she had picked everyone she wanted, she turned to me and snapped “pick!”
I would have thought the pickings would have been pretty slim by that point, but the crowd had grown. Apparently word of the 'celebrity catfight' was spreading.
“OK. I know some of you are just getting here. Here's the deal. Three innings for charity. The forces of light...” I waved my arm from my head to my waist “versus the forces of....” I shot a look at my rival's pursed lips and narrowed eyes “...versus the forces of ….snarkness” That got the laugh I'd intended and only made my rival seem to coil tighter. “It's just three short innings for a good cause. It will be fun. Just a friendly game, No harm no foul. Well.... OK, maybe fouls.... but no harm. You have my word as a celebrity.” That earned a laugh. Including Janice who was taking all this in from the back of the crowd.
“So if there are any volunteers, step on up.”
That brought a larger crowd than I expected. Including a surprise face in the crowd.
“YOU!” I pointed to Matt Cutler, who blushed when all heads turned to him. I crooked a finger and he came up to me, quite self conscious.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“I go to school here.” he said just a bit petulantly, but with a big smile on his face.
“No. I know that. I mean what are you doing here? Right HERE?”
“I heard there was some big celebrity cat fight going on, and some friends wanted to check it out.” he cocked his head in the direction of a few guys craning their necks to hear what we were whispering about.
“You can do better than that. Where's your camera?”
“What?”
“It's pretty bright, so we won't need a flash. And I DID promise you a photo op, way back when. Time to make good. Where is your camera?”
“Back in my dorm.”
“Can you get it quickly?”
“Duh!” he smiled and bolted off like the Flash. That startled the crowd.
“Any other volunteers?” I asked and they all drew back slightly.
“Oh. Don't worry about him.” I said motioning my head in the direction Matt ran. “It's perfectly safe. I don't bite.” I heard my rival snort at that remark. No one was stepping forward, so I looked around and started picking people... beginning with Matt's three friends. I figured that if they all came over together, they may have been nearby because they're all athletes. They all looked at each other and came over. Good. I was already a third of the way there. When I pointed to Eoin he just put up his hands & shook his head. I understood. He had to keep the peace. It would be impolitic for him to take sides.
“Picking your 'boyfriend'?” came the sneer.
“I don't think we should drag him into this” I said.
“Oh, please! If I wanted him, I would have picked him. He's too old to play.”
“And you aren't?” I raised an eyebrow and was met by a contemptuous laugh.
“You think I'm playing?” Suddenly I counted up the people on her 'team' and it hit me.
“Oh, so you don't have the guts to play?”
“I know how to use talent. They're the muscle. I'm the brains.”
“You mean they're your army of flying monkeys and you're the....”
“All RIGHT ladies...” Eoin stepped between us “Let's not do or say anything we can't take back.”
We glared at each other. I still wasn't sure if it was all just show, but we each sparred as if we meant it. If it was an act, I was fully committed to it. And if it wasn't, I was curious to find out why there was such bad blood. Either way, it was ON... and I think the crowd was getting into it.
I was a little surprised that there was no real press, but I guess they knew what I didn't, ..that this 'charity event' was just a cover for a shoot for a speculative project. I smiled at the thought that whatever did happen at the game, the only one who would have any coverage was Matt Cutler.
I stalled for time, quibbling over rules and giving pep talks to 'my' team as I waited for Matt to get back with his camera. I didn't have to wait long.
When he got back, he was surprised to find his three mates on 'my' team. I quietly asked him if they were also from the track squad & he grinned and nodded. I placed the three of them in the lineup ahead of myself and asked my group who was the 'power hitter'. No one volunteered, but a few of the students looked at this one guy, so I figured he would be my secret weapon.
The game got off to a slow start. The other team batted first, and we were pretty bad in the field. On one really messed up play, my rival who was standing near the first base line started berating my right fielder. She made a loud gagging sound and cupping her hands to her mouth taunted 'You throw like a GIRL!'. I was at shortstop and just turned to look at him blushing.
“There's nothing WRONG with that. Just throw like an athletic girl!” Everyone laughed and I think I neutralized the taunting. The more she did it, the more it just made her look like a bully who had to resort to name calling. Everyone noticed... even her own team. The only one who didn't seem to see it was herself.
By the time I finally came to the plate, we had runners on first and third. I really had never played ball as a kid... no one wanted the gangly freak on their team. Still, I knew I was in shape and figured I could do well enough. Plus I had the power of surprise on my side. At least initially.
Before stepping up to the plate, I walked over to Eoin and asked him to hold my stuff. He nodded. Then gaped as I removed my loose madras pants and top to reveal a pair of very short shorts and my runners top. Fortunately, the day was warm and I had been exerting myself as much as possible covering the infield, so I was appropriately shiny with slight sweat when I stepped up to the plate. The slight patina of perspiration on top of the baby oil I'd massaged in after my shower left me glistening like a bodybuilder in the sun. In the best case, I'd blind the pitcher as the baby oil caught the sun, at the very least I was sure my long limbs and preying mantis-like crouch over the plate would rattle him.
It seemed to work, as the first pitch came so far outside the catcher had to lunge for it.
My rival was unfazed. She stood as close outside the batters cage as she could without stepping onto the field and continued to berate me. I was actually having more fun – and success – fencing with her taunts than playing ball.
“Jesus Keller! Those shorts are so small, be careful little willy doesn't fall out!”
OK. I'm sure she doesn't know I'm not Katherine. And there's no WAY she could know about L.C. Dale had mentioned Katherine's ...ambiguous bits... and Dennis had teased about her 'serious camel toe'. These two had modeled together ages ago. I bet she knew Katherine was self conscious about that and it was a sure fire way to rattle her. ...Screw that!
I just stepped out of the batters box and smiled at her. “Don't worry. Willy's safe at home, still unopened in the box you gave me.” I smiled. She went bright crimson, scowled and stormed away. 'Direct hit', I clucked to myself and stepped back into the batters box feeling a bit smug.
I don't know what possessed me do it, but I scraped my trainers in the dirt a little, looked at the pitcher, then around at the field. All eyes were on me, so I raised my bat and pointed at left field. I saw that once in a movie before the hero hit a home run. Sure it was posturing, but I thought maybe it would rattle the pitcher.
Wrong. It simply pissed him off. He let one fly, but I was already determined to send one out of the park, so I threw what weight I had into the swing and connected.
The ball took off like a bullet. In a direction I had never imagined. It was a foul tip. It shot like a rocket at a near right angle and flew about 6 inches from the head of you know who, who was still storming away when she felt the wake as the ball shot past her.
The crowd gasped and I was mortified. But when she spun to glare daggers at me, it all turned to indignation as I mouthed silently to her 'THAT WAS FOR LITTLE WILLY!' and returned to take the next pitch. I don't know if it was deliberate, or if he was still gun shy after I nearly decapitated his team manager, but the pitcher walked me. Which was good, because I sucked at bat. Fortunately the next guy was the power hitter I'd hoped for and we scored a few runs. I helped by stealing second, which the pitcher hadn't expected. And between Matt's track team mate on third and me on second, a decent hit to right field gave us time to bring two runs home.
The two teams were pretty well matched, meaning neither of us were very good. And after two and a half innings the score was 12-10. We needed at least two runs to tie, and I really wanted to win. I don't know if the rivalry was real or not, but it was feeling real and I wanted to shut up that trash talking bitch. The best way to do that AND keep the high ground was by being a gracious winner. Matt's mates were all on base and I knew the pitcher had it in for me. Again I stepped up to the plate, narrowed my eyes and stared at him, raised my bat and pointed at left field... saw him scowl as if to say 'oh yeah?' then I shrugged, and pointed the bat off field, in the direction of the disastrous foul tip. The crowd laughed. Then I pointed it up to the back of the batters cage. This time even the pitcher laughed. I stepped in and crouched, tensed to throw everything into this swing. And sure enough he delivered it like a meteor, I stepped into it and pulled back as hard as I could, draining as much as much energy as I could out of the ball, bunting as it headed for right field like a bowling ball tossed by a three year old. I reached first long before it did and bringing in our guy on third.
Our 'power hitter' scared me to death. He was trying so hard for a grand slam that he was swinging at air and I thought our secret weapon would backfire. Finally with a full count, he got modest and hit a ground rule double which was enough to get us the game.
The team erupted and what crowd lingered after the shoot came down to the field to congratulate us. Actually, I think they mostly came down to get pictures with us. Which I hammed it up for, Eoin graciously posed with anyone who asked and even our bitter ice queen swallowed her bile enough to pose with fans or even with the three of us and fans. I drafted Matt to get the photos of anyone who didn't have a friend of their own to hold their phone camera. I couldn't resist making bunny ears when the three of us posed for photos, Eoin always diplomatically in the middle. And I might have been in the background... or looming directly behind and above making distasteful faces when my rival was posing for single photos with fans. Nobody told her this was happening, although everyone else could see it, and I kept doing it... to the point where people who had already posed for pictures with the three of us asked for photos just with her. I'm sure she was feeling smug that she was the only one people were asking to pose 'alone' with. I would have loved to see her face when she checked instagram and twitter later.
Janice came up and joined us as the crowd broke up. I introduced her to Eoin simply as a good friend of Doctor Dale, and mentioned that we just came from his place.
“So, what.... He just gave you some kind of Wonder Woman shot so you could come down hear and kick ass on the field?” Eoin grinned.
I held up my hands laughing. “Absolutely NOT. No funny business. We didn't even know about the game until I called Kirk from the car coming back from Dale's. I am just as God made me..”
THAT got a look from Janice.
“....Besides.... if there are going to be ANY accusations of 'Roid Rage' we all know who to direct them at ….and I don't mean STER-oid!” I laughed.”God, she can be such a pain in th....”
“Jesus, Katherine!” Eoin laughed. “Would you cool it? I have to work with this woman! At least I hope I will.... if they like the....”
I interrupted him this time. “Of course they will!” I said encouragingly. “Personal feelings aside, watching you guys out on the field, it was obvious even to ME that you two have chemistry.” I gave him a big smile and a little shoulder bump.
“You really think so?” he said sheepishly. I knew he really needed to believe this. I smiled warmly and nodded, gazing reassuringly into his upturned eyes. At that moment, he seemed like a five year old seeking approval. I tried to give him the assurance and confidence he seemed to be fishing for. '….actors....' I smiled to myself.
I asked Eoin if there was anything else he was needed for on this shoot. He shook his head and confirmed that the crew was packing up and everyone was done for the day. I inquired if he or Janice were hungry. Both nodded and agreed that they could eat. I then loudly addressed the rest of 'my team' as they were preparing to go their separate ways.
“I really want to thank you for your help, I hope you had even half the fun that I did.”
Everyone smiled and nodded.
“I think you should all give yourself a big hand!” and very slowly, goaded on by the bystanders who began applauding with gusto, 'my team' joined in the clapping, but totally monopolized the blushing.
“Look, if this were a normal game, I'd pile everyone into the minivan and we'd all go out for pizza and ice cream.” I smiled. “But, if you'll let me I'd like to invite you all out for a post-game celebration.”
They all began nodding to each other, and I could tell by the look on some faces that they didn't hesitate before deciding to blow off classes to go out and celebrate with us.
I looked at Eoin and whispered “What do you think.... Papa John's?” with enough of a grin that he could take it as a joke if it was the wrong thing to say.
He barked a laugh. “As IF!” he grinned wickedly... and whispered back “...how about Agave?”
I nodded. Having no idea what I'd just agreed to, but trusting that it would all work out.
Agave was a trendy yet casual place that seemed to specialize in locally sourced food. The menu was heavy on salads, veggie burgers and vegan fare, - very L.A. - but there was some dairy fish and local poultry, so our group of college students could indulge in items that almost tasted like junk-food if they were so inclined. While I think most of our crowd would have been happier with hot wings or burgers and fries from In & Out, they didn't grumble much about the healthy fare. I think they were just tickled that Eoin and I had invited them all out for a victory meal.
It was a boisterous time, but the staff had the good sense to seat our gang out on the terrace so we didn't disturb other patrons. The fact that a couple of celebrities were publicly entertaining guests and could easily be seen by passersby - spurring additional walk in traffic, was another brilliant improv by the staff that I had to commend.
Eoin was the ultimate gracious host, and this time I got to play sidekick. That was only fair, since this 'charity game' was originally his gig until I crashed it. I took great pains not to steal any focus from Eoin. I think Janice noticed in her fly-on-the-wall role, but what she made of my ceding the spotlight to Eoin, was unreadable to me.
Matt Cutler joined our little celebration about 15 minutes after we started. I discreetly pulled him aside and he gleefully told me how he was shopping his photos, I had suggested tweeting & instagraming some of the more mundane ones, making clear that he had much better unreleased stuff. It seems to have worked, because in addition to his old paparazzi contacts, he was getting a lot of new followers, who he dutifully followed back and started fielding Direct Message inquiries about his unpublished stuff. It appeared that a bidding war was beginning to develop, and I for one couldn't be happier. I owed him for his gracious behaviour that first day we met, and everything he did to help me track down Katherine... including the tremendous favour of keeping that juicy story under wraps for the time being. When he mentioned that he also had some choice video he could shop around to some of the gossip shows, my only reaction was 'his camera shoots video too? Well that just gives him additional markets to sell to. Good for him!' He already proved himself trustworthy and I was eager to see him get as much as he could from his exclusive 'accidental' photo op. He had the raw goods. I just helped him market them most effectively.
When Eoin expressed some concern that an 'amateur paparrazo' was shopping stuff on the open market, I told him I had a good feeling about the kid who took the pictures and to trust me. Amazingly, he did. I also told him that it would generate buzz for the film project they were scheming to get out of 'development' and into production. Apparently my argument was convincing, because soon enough Eoin was huddling with Matt, going over his footage and suggesting particular tabloids or gossip shows to approach with various items that were best suited to their place in the pop culture foodchain.
I also pulled Matt aside and asked him to sound out Eoin about 'the feud'. He instantly understood that this background info would be vital to my keeping up the Katherine pretense, and promised to be subtle yet thorough.
I don't know why, but it really pleased me to see my two guys hitting it off. Janice noticed.
“Are you playing matchmaker?” she gently teased.
I shook my head uncertainly. “Not consciously. But I must admit, it tickles me to see my two guys hitting it off.”
“Your two guys?” she raised an eyebrow. I involuntarily blushed.
“I am NOT playing matchmaker! I never set out to put those two together. I never would have imagined circumstances where they'd ever even MEET. Still, I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that it warms my heart to see them hitting it off. ….I guess it's like having a gathering where your workfriends mingle with your schoolfriends and maybe old childhood friends....”
“Elsie's childhood friends...”
I frowned.
“....or schoolfriends....”
My frown turned into an outright scowl.
“I didn't have any friends growing up. Just my cousins. And they HAD to play with me because we were related. And as for school....” I blew out some air in my frustration. “The kids who 'played with me' played with me the way a cat plays with a mouse... or a dog plays with a rabbit.” I absent mindedly chewed my lip at the memory.
“Oh, you can't tell me that everyone in school hated you.”
“No. Most completely ignored me. Oh, some of the other girls were stand-offish, but not actively mean. And some of them would give me a tissue or something to help wipe the dirt off.... but it's not like any of us were actually, you know, friendly... just ...not aggressive, and discreetly helpful when I was really roughed up. But most of my interaction was with the boys.”
“...Not with other girls.”
I nodded. It wasn't a question. Just a supposition, that I confirmed with my nod. That brought a raised eyebrow.
“What?” I was confused. She had asked, I had answered.
“You said you had very little interaction with other girls.” she said quietly.
“Oh.” I blushed. “Sorry.”
“You weren't thinking.”
“Exactly.” I shrugged.
“It was just a reflex.” she said with the slightest smile.
I nodded and scowled a little at the thought. When did that start happening?
Before our little victory celebration broke up, I asked Matt to take a group photo.
Actually, TWO group photos. One was Eoin & his gang who had been in the 'guerrilla pilot' filming, which Matt forwarded to Eoin for whatever PR purposes he chose – with photographer attribution. The other was all of us, which Matt emailed to each of us.
The celebratory dinner broke up shortly after. Everyone had a great story to tell their friends and photographic proof to back up their improbable tale, Eoin had more material to use in his project pitch, Janice had a chance to see my Katherine routine firsthand, and I had an opportunity to keep Katherine in the news cycle, thanks to Matt's coverage and the appetite of the tabloid press. Actually, from what I saw, Katherine came out the bigger person – which is actually playing against the public image of the two divas involved in this media 'catfight'.
Janice dropped me at my hotel, and – after thanking me for an entertaining day – implored me to call her at my earliest convenience to set up an actual, official 'first meeting'.
I hadn't been back at my suite for five minutes before my phone chirped with near-simultaneous texts from Mikey & Dennis... titled respectively, 'Catfight!' and 'OMG! Call me ASAP!”
I replied to Mikey's text with a single, smirky emoji. Then I called Dennis.
“Oh my God girl, what did you DO? The internets are blowing up about you!” He didn't sound angry so much as agitated and perplexed.
“Well, Kirk told me that Eoin was back in town, but couldn't work because he had a charity thing to do ...which we decided to crash. Okay, I decided to crash and drag Kirk.... HEY! He never showed! He stood me UP! That unreliable... uh... I blew him off for a working brunch, so I guess I'm in no position to throw stones...”
Dennis interrupted me. “Excuse me.... can we focus here? Eoin.... Charity thing... you crashing....”
“Oh. Yeah. Kirk said it was a celebrity softball game to for 'Hollywood Cares' and I was a bit hurt that I wasn't even asked....”
“People know better than to ask Katherine....”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved my hand dismissively as if Dennis could see me through the phone. “Well, I wanted to see Eoin and at least be at this charity game, even if I wasn't playing. ...only it turned out it wasn't exactly a charity event. Hollywood Cares was the cover, and they got a large donation for arranging the 'charity event' which was really a guerrilla shoot for this film about...”
“Yeah. Blue Balls....”
“What?!?”
“The movie about the pampered prep school kids who form a kickass minor league baseball team.... Blue Bloods... Baseball... Blue Balls.” he said matter of factly.
“You KNEW about this???”
“Well, they've been trying to get it out of turnaround for years. They had Eoin on board since last year, but now that Thornbirds had made him a kind of household name... yeah. It looks like it's close to getting made. And Binaca's been pushing the project for ages.”
“Binaca?”
Dennis laughed. “When they first met, Katherine had never met anyone named Bianca and misread her name as Binaca. When she saw how much it annoyed her, she made it permanent.”
I nodded. “So this is a real feud. Not just some PR thing...”
“Oh yeah. It's real. But it's been going on for so long I don't know how much is really hatred and how much is just habit.” he laughed.
“So who started it?” I was really curious to find out from the one person who had known Katherine long enough to have the whole story.
“Hard to say.” he sighed. “I think it was an unfortunate first impression that just continued to snowball into a full fledged feud. Binac…. Bianca thought Katherine was out to get her. Actually Katherine was just newer and fresher, so when they went for the same jobs they usually went to Katherine. And when they worked together, there was a ...tension.... well, first Katherine screwed up her name, but she initially took it well. I think she thought it was playful teasing. Actually, I think she thought Katherine was hitting on her... which I suspect actually flattered her. I had a chance to see them together a few times when I was with Katherine on a shoot, and it was obvious to everyone that they were flirting. Well, obvious to everyone...”
“..but Katherine..” I butted in. I could almost hear him nod.
“Actually, she came off as ...enigmatic...”
“..Even though she didn't know they were 'flirting'.... kind of like flirting with Siri”
Dennis laughed. “Yeah. No one ever put it that way... But yeah. That's exactly what it was like. ….well, eventually it ended up awkwardly intimate and embarrassing, At least for Bianca. I think Katherine just shrugged it off. And it was only the two of them. Katherine was very ….cryptic... about the incident, but I think Bianca...”
“She thinks Katherine punked her and is is lording it over her and skewering her about it privately every time they encounter each other.”
“Uh huh.”
“Wow. A neurotic celebrity who creates her own conflicts. What are the odds?” I laughed.
Dennis chuckled. “Yeah. So that's the genesis of the feud. It got even worse when Katherine decided to 'follow her' into movies and TV. I'm sure the success of Thornbirds really has her gnashing her teeth. Especially since she's still trying to get Blue Balls out of turnaround.”
“So she hates me.” I frowned.
“Hate is a strong word. ...Hey, was L.C. ever a Star Trek fan?”
“...not a wear-a-costume, attend-a-con type... but not unfamiliar....”
“Khan.”
“Khan?” Then I grinned as I got it. “Katherine tasks her...”
“Exactly.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Katherine is the itch that she can't scratch. The little tick she can't lick. The best she can do is put her out of her mind.... but then I show up at the ballgame...”
Dennis laughed. “You GET it! I'm not so sure Katherine ever did. She enjoyed messing with Bina... Bianca... but I don't know if she ever knew how deeply she annoyed her.”
I smiled, replaying the events of the day through the filter of what I learned.
“Well, all I know is that LC was a big fan. She seemed like a decent human being.”
“By all accounts she is. She and Katherine just got off to a bad start and everything that followed only made things worse.”
“So should I try to mend fences?”
“Oh, God NO!”
“Would Katherine be happier if this feud was laid to rest?”
“Honestly, I don't think she cares. And frankly, the feud keeps you both in the press a lot more. So NO. No fence mending!”
“OK” I said in a small voice. I'm not sure how convincing I was. My mind was still racing with ways to keep the public feud alive while privately making peace with Katherine's inadvertent nemesis.
Before ending the call, I promised Dennis I wouldn't do anything to quell the feud. He also made me promise that I wouldn't deliberately do anything to escalate it. I think even he had a little empathy for Bianca. She had accidentally crossed paths with Katherine and had no idea who or what she was dealing with. I think Dennis could see things from her side and thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie. I wasn't convinced there wasn't a better path, but decided to bide my time until I was more sure.
I slept fitfully. I was mulling over 'the feud'... it even invaded my dreams. The next morning I called Eoin and asked if he had her number.
“What are you planning to do? I'm already in enough trouble with her after you crashed the filming and your confrontation blew up on social media.” He protested.
“She doesn't think YOU had anything to do with that, does she?”
Eoin sounded uncertain. “I don't think she actually believes it, but she's really really pissed off ...and I'm as good a target as any.”
“Then let me see if I can talk her down and get her off your case.”
“I don't know....” he blew out a breath. “You could just make her angrier.... especially if she finds out I gave you her number.”
“Oh, please. Why would she accuse you? Don't you think I have other ways to get her number?”
“So why ask me?”
I sighed. “Because I really have no idea how else to get her number.... but she doesn't have to know that. C'mon.... help me out here and do this. ….for your girlfriend...” I said all exaggerated like a mocking little kid would. “you can't see it but I'm batting my eyelashes and making big eyes into the phone.”
Eoin laughed. And in an exaggerated put-upon tone sighed “All riiight, I'll do it.... since you played the girrrrlfriend card.” He mimicked my way of saying it. “...but you owe me ….girlfriend.”
“Hmmph. I would have thought we were even after Atlanta.... OK. I owe you.”
Eoin snorted. “Damn right.” then he gave me her number.
“I don't care what everyone says.... you're the best boyfriend everrrr!” I chirped in an over-the-top valley girl voice.
Eoin groaned. “GOODBYE Katherine.” and hung up. But I knew he was smiling.
'Yeah, he loves me' I chortled to myself. Then got down to business. What exactly was I going to say to my nemesis?
Genuinely sorry about crashing the game. I just heard cover story. Thought I'd support 'my guy'. If I knew you were there I would have stayed ...in Europe. Still.. we both got buzz out of it. KK.
I hit send and hoped for the best. Dennis had warned me to just let it go, but I couldn't. I trusted Dennis. He and Katherine had more experience with this feud than I did, but I really felt I'd escalated things when I crashed the filming and then kind of goaded her into the 'grudge match'.
Next, I called Kirk.
“Hey. Thanks for telling me about the game yesterday. And for meeting me there to show support.”
I meant it teasingly, but reflexively I said it deadpan in my Katherine voice, and realized it sounded kind of mean. Before I could walk it back and let him know I wasn't really angry Kirk laughed.
“Just payback for brunch. Besides, I never really expected you'd go. ….If I had any idea what I was going to miss, you better believe I'd have been there for a ringside seat!”
“Well, I'm sure you didn't miss much.” I grumbled. “Seems like it was pretty well covered.”
“You can say that again. There's stuff all over the net and TV. You should have expected the press would be all over this.”
“All over what?”
“The charity game. OK, probably not the A-team, but you bring out idle celebrities for charity and you have to expect some paparazzi.”
“There was no paparazzi. It was just one guy. And it wasn't a charity game thank you very much.”
“What? Eoin said it was a charity...”
“Yeah. That was a cover story. They were stealing scenes for some new teen comedy about washed up rich kids who form a baseball team. They were getting footage to convince the studio to get it out of turnaround. There was no press. All the cameras there belonged to the film crew... and that one student who earned his paparazzo wings ...or horns.... Everyone else knew it was a cover story... except you ...and then me.”
Kirk sucked in a breath of air. “ooh... sorry.”
“Don't be. If I knew the truth, I never would have gone. But looking at all the buzz, I'm glad I did.”
“All that stuff is from just one guy?”
“Yeah. He was pretty prolific.”
“Right place, right time I guess.”
“And right guy.” I added.
“...guess so...”
“So how is the intern process coming?”
“Good, good. We're narrowing it down. I'd like you and Eoin to meet the finalists... I wish we could get everyone to meet them, but it'll be a few days before we get all the....”
“Hey.” I interrupted. “Do we have a staff photographer in the lineup?”
“Well, videographers... I figured they could..... what are you thinking?”
I could tell from his tone of voice that he already knew.
“Well, I met this really talented photographer the other day, and he IS a student... although he's from another school....”
“Is he blackmailing you?”
I laughed. “No! Absolutely NOT. I was just really impressed with him. I didn't even notice he was there, and before I knew it the net exploded with all these stills and videos. ….and I didn't see one that was unflattering.... unlike real paparazzi.”
“So you want to give this kid a job?”
“A paid internship. Yeah. He's really unobtrusive and very good, judging by what I've seen. I'd at least like you to meet him and decide for yourself. After all, this really IS your project...”
“...All based on your bright idea and convincing the powers that be to fund it.” he chided.
“So let's just say it's a team effort. And as a trusted team member, I'd like you to meet with this guy and see what you think.”
Kirk sighed, but I knew he was smiling. “Fine. I'll meet your mystery guy ….IF you can even find him.”
“How hard can it be? It's UCLA. I'll just have people ask around.”
“Or maybe you could just put up flyers. 'Starlet seeks student with camera.'” he laughed.
I laughed too. “OK. That will be 'Plan B'... let me see what my people can do.”
“Fine. Keep me posted. Can you and Eoin join me at the rehearsal studio at one to meet with intern finalists?”
“Works for me. Let me know if there's a change. Meanwhile, I'll start finding my
mystery guy.”
“Good luck to you, Nancy Drew” he laughed. I made a dismissive 'pfffft' sound and blithely hung up.
And my phone binged.
It was a text.
How did you get this number? And what the hell do you want?
I have my ways. Actually, I have minions.
Maclure!
Srsly? He's scared to death of you. He's the LAST person I'd ask.
Actually, he was the only person I'd ask. Which made him first and last.
What do you want? I'm busy.
Just to say Sorry about yesterday. It was unplanned, Still, I think it worked out for both of us. The 'feud' is getting a lot of coverage.
It's not a feud. What am I - a hillbilly?
OK OK Rivalry Grudge ...whatever you want to call it.
The press is calling it a catfight.
Whatever gets the clicks. Anyway, it's keeping us both in the spotlight.
I don't need any help from you.
Never said you did. Anyway, there seems to be a hunger for it, so maybe we could keep it up.
As if it was ever off
Apparently the feud was real. Dennis was right. I'd have to learn more about that.
OK. Right. Still, I think the public ….rivalry... could be good for business, for us both. Like the old US/USSR or Coke & Pepsi... Red vs Blue....
The machinima?
Wow. She was a nerd. That just slipped out. I accidentally outed myself as a nerd and she matched me. Something to think about later.
Yeah. Well, you get the idea. The public sparring keeps us in the news. And might earn us more clout to get our pet projects done.
I knew she was trying to get 'Blue Balls' or whatever it was called greenlit. Maybe I could sway her with that.
So we snipe publicly. What else is new?
Maybe we just do it more pointedly, or more often. Keep stirring the coals for the press.
As if they would ever go out.
Well, I think it was pretty much forgotten.
Not by me!
By the press. Still I think we could stir things up.
And what do YOU get out of this?
We BOTH get buzz. It's a win win.
Why are you doing this? Are you setting me up?
NO! I just saw the opportunity ...for both of us... and it won't work nearly as well if just one of us is sniping. ….and I feel I owe you...
Got THAT right!
I really never intended to steal focus at the game yesterday.
THAT's what you're apologizing for? Jesus!
I really had to find out what history these two had.
Yes. And it's something. So. Are you in?
….What do you have in mind?
Just let me know you're in and we'll discuss it.
If you're setting me up, so help me.....
No setup. Seriously. You have my word. As a celebrity.
That had worked to get a laugh before, but I think it only made her testier.
Give me a break!
OK. I have a few ideas. Let me flesh them out and I'll run them by you as soon as they're ready.
You better not be setting me up.
Every time you say it, I'll deny it. You really have some trust issues.
Ya THINK? I wonder why?
Whoa. Touched a nerve there.
I'll be in touch as soon as I've worked some things out.
Bye freak.
Later, bitch. ;-)
And I ordered a cappucino and spinach salad from room service while I formulated my next move.
When I arrived at the rehearsal studio Eoin was already there chatting amiably with Kirk and a bunch of the USC kids. I really didn't know much about Kirk or Eoin's history, and I presume Katherine never gave it any thought, but judging by their easy banter, I guessed they knew each other from way back.... probably from their musical theater days back east. They seemed to be regaling the USC students with war stories, and it was immediately apparent that this group was quickly fusing into a team.
I breezed in, trying not to disturb the social dynamic... but it was futile. Katherine always disturbed the social dynamic, if only from her gaunt, towering presence. She was impossible to ignore. Which is what made her iconic, but as I had learned, also made it impossible to just disappear into the background and observe people interacting. I was surprised to find myself missing L.C's invisibility. I had never appreciated its positive aspects until I lost it as Katherine, who was always a center of attention.
Eoin and Kirk were speaking in shorthand about getting the project started, but from what I could pick up, they wanted to get underway this very day... if I approved of their choice of the intern documentary crew – which I did without reservation. I had no idea what I was doing, and none of the candidates gave off a warning vibe, so I trusted their choices completely. Kirk asked about 'that photographer' I wanted to bring on, and I got a raised eyebrow from Eoin. I just nodded slightly and saw his curious gaze give way to an amused smile.
“I met him the other day. He seems like a good kid. Very sharp. And as we can all tell from the game footage, definitely qualified.” He said to Kirk while looking at me. “Still.... I don't know how Katherine found him.” he grinned.
Okay. I had to come clean. At least somewhat.
“Actually he found ME. Before we left for Europe. He was with a bunch of others by my hotel. I managed to shake them all. ...except him. I managed to talk him out of shooting me and we chatted.”
“You talked him out of a photo?” Kirk was incredulous. “What kind of paparazzo is he?”
“An aspiring one” I smiled. “He came to town for school and decided to try the freelance paparazzi thing because he heard it was good money. But he lacked the killer instinct. When I successfully talked him out of the shot, we both realized that. I told him I'd make it up to him, but never gave a thought to how. Then yesterday I found myself on his campus... AND he and his friends had wandered over to the field to see what all the commotion was. So when he came up to me, I quietly suggested that he go get his camera....”
“It was a SETUP!” Eoin laughed.
“NO!” I shook my head vehemently, raising a finger. “It was an opportunity ….completely unexpected.... that I recognized and seized. ...And it worked out well for everyone.”
“And if it hadn't?” Eoin stared me down. I was not going to be swayed. I just looked back at him placidly.
“I knew it would. And it did.” and I just stared back at him until he broke the gaze. It was a very un-Katherine thing to do, but it worked. Eoin finally, broke into a grin.
“Yeah, it did.” he said. Then he turned to Kirk. “The kid even took some shots for me to use in the press packet ...IF our film ever gets made.”
“The odds of that happening have to be better than they were a few days ago.” I smiled.
Eoin grinned and nodded. “Yeah. I spoke with Bianca.... she said the studio called her to ask when they could screen the rumored footage.” ...then he made a face and turned to me “...she also... well, she didn't outright accuse me... she just asked if I had been speaking with you.”
“Well... DUH. We're working on this project.”
“That's what I told her.... and she dropped it. But it sounded like something was bothering her...”
“She'll get over it.” I gave him my best Mona Lisa smile.
He just regarded me for a while longer and eventually shrugged. Kirk finally brought us back to the matter at hand.
“So, we're good with the crew we have?”
We nodded. He clapped his hands once. And walked out into the waiting area to address the interns, who wasted no time to grab their gear and start milling around us like insects shooting footage.
“So, Cyril and Colleen are due in tomorrow. I've already gathered some worktracks and charts.” he handed out packets to Eoin and me. “I took the liberty of FedEx-ing these to Colleen and Cyril so they can study on the plane. Most of this you'll know. Some you may remember we rehearsed but never shot. Others got bumped before they even got to you, but..”
“It's kind of an embarrassment of riches here.” I observed, leafing through the thick packet. Eoin nodded his agreement and Kirk just blushed.
“Some of this may still never see the light of day, but I'd rather do stuff we cut than regret not having tried something.”
I looked over at Kirk “You have enough stuff here for Thornbirds – the opera” I teased. Eoin nodded his agreement.
“Or at least Thornbirds the broadway musical!” he grinned at Kirk.
“Yeah. WAY more than that Dinner Theater idea.” I smiled. “At least....” suddenly I got a wicked notion.
I turned to our 'documentary crew' but addressed Kirk.
“Our interns are all embargoed, until the project is released, right?” That got me nervous looks from our crew.
“Uh huh.” Kirk nodded, and gazed at me. “What are you thinking?”
I smiled enigmatically and felt the room stir. I went over to his desk and handed him a legal pad and pen. “I just had a thought. You may want to take notes. I'm kind of putting this together this on the fly.” I smiled.
It's remarkable how quickly things can get done with the right people on the job – and the right people writing the checks. Dez was convinced almost immediately and the studio and their corporate parent shortly after that. The marketing people were eager to work with us, especially once they heard 'the plan'. We had lists of everyone who had pre-ordered 'Birds DVDs through the distributor's site and even managed to get Amazon to blindly forward our marketing blast to their own qualifying pre-order customers for a small slice of the action.
What 'qualified' people was that they had to be local... within 50 miles. That was still a much larger list than I had expected. Far more than what we needed – or could even handle. Still, we didn't expect to get 100% response, so this scheme could still fall through.
I was startled at how positive the response was – especially since we were extremely vague about what we were offering 'Alpha Fans' invitations TO. The only thing we were specific about was the date. We obliquely inferred that it was some kind of 'Birds related thank-you event to the fans who made the film such a meme. I suspected that most fans would expect a Rocky Horror style fan screening or directors cut... maybe with some cast members present since it DID appear to be sponsored by the studio & the invitation came 'personally' from Dez Lehmann.
It was guerrilla marketing done right. Quickly the fansites were buzzing about this thing, and it was near certain that there would be gate crashers IF we had breathed a word about where this 'mystery event' was. As it stood, it seemed that some superfans were already making their way to LA even though they had specifically NOT been invited due to distance.
The marketing crew actually had to work hard to tamp down expectations, since the social media rumor machine was going wild with speculation.
Still, it tickled me to observe that no one came even close to what we actually had planned.
72 hours is a ridiculously short time to go from legal pad to signed contracts, booked venues, rehearsed musicians and PR machine primed and ready to race. It really helps when the coroporate parent of the film distributor also has a division that's a 700-lb gorilla in the live performance business. We had clout. We had cash. We had everything but time. This was so zero-latency as to be nearly improvisational. Still, I knew we had a crew that could think on their feet. Cyril, Eoin and Colleen were all long time live theater veterans, used to course-correcting when faced with the unexpected. Our musicians were the best of the best among a city renowned for its talent pool. The only real wildcard in this bunch, was ….me. Actually, Katherine. Who had NO track record in live performance except for that one amazing night in Vienna. But I think because of that ….and maybe that this crazy scheme was all my idea... Katherine was given a major pass by everyone who was on the lookout for ways this could fall apart.
My favorite part of this scheme was that everyone was obsessed and focused on their little piece of the puzzle. Some people like Dez and the studio suits had a bigger picture, but no one knew ALL the puzzle pieces. Except the lunatic who thought up the whole crazy idea in the first place!
The superfans – and expected gate crashers swarmed the Dolby Theater at 5PM as directed. Those with valid credentials were permitted inside, and once we knew how short we were, we sent 'scouts' outside into the fan mob to discreetly hand-select folks who were enthusiastic, but well behaved.
The doors closed, the event presumably begun, and security began clearing loiterers from around the front of the theater. Meanwhile, the lights came down and Dez took the stage to thunderous applause. Once the applause settled down, he thanked everyone for joining him on his 'mystery date' and brought up the house lights as he introduced the documentary crew and reminded everyone that the agreement they had clicked to receive their invite was also a release – as they obviously knew from reading what they agreed to. That brought a laugh. Then he seriously gave anyone who did NOT want to possibly be included in the documentary an opportunity to leave then and there. No one did.
He then surprised the crowd by asking them to leave their seats and proceed to the lobby, where they were directed to a fleet of large buses. Once underway, one of the 'Birds cast appeared at the front of each bus and took the 'tour guide' mic. This surprised and apparently delighted the fans. At least on the bus I was on. Each of us wore a gaudy 'Camp Drogheda' t-shirt, cargo shorts and hiking boots.
“Thanks for coming out to play with us, campers!” I chirped into the mic, startling the bus full of fans, who seemed to take a moment to recognize me, then erupted into enthusiastic – if bewildered – applause.
“Mr Lehmann already mentioned the defacto likeness release you agreed to when you signed up for this event. I'd also like to remind you of the paragraph outlining your commitment to the year of indentured servitude in the sheep farms of North Dakota.” That brought a stir of anxious confusion.
“KIDDING!” I smiled and the crowd settled down. I knew we had about a half hour ride and hoped that by then they would get my sense of humour.
“Sorry for the fake-out at the theater. Just a way to keep the uninvited away. AND to make things a little more of ...an adventure. It's a lovely evening for a ride ...and anything else we have planned... we're still a short while away, so we could sing camp songs or just talk.... Is there anyone on this bus who hasn't seen the movie?” It was no surprise that no one raised their hand.
“How many have seen it twice?” A sea of hands. “Three times? ...Four? ...Five? Six?.... OK, you got me. I was just trying to trick you into exercise.” I kidded throwing my arms into the air as if exploding into a jumping jack. Not a move I'd recommend to anyone my size who finds themselves on a bus. I crashed into the ceiling and winced at the competing pains from each of my hands and my head/neck. “THIS is why we hire stunt people!” I exclaimed while rubbing my neck. Somehow, that seemed to relax everyone on the bus, evaporating their star-struck shyness, and the rest of our short trip went well.
My distraction seemed to work, because while we chatted, people had apparently not been paying attention to where we were going... and as we arrived at the Hollywood Bowl, their surprise seemed genuine. I handed each passenger a yellow Camp Drogheda T-Shirt as they left the bus and milled toward the gates.
We had to pull some serious strings to get a venue – and musicians – on such short notice, but favors were called - or promised – checks were written, and where necessary, clout was exercised. The only thing we couldn't influence was the weather – which is why everyone met at the Dolby – our bad weather backup site. Thankfully nature smiled on us and we knew by that morning that the original outdoor concert plan was a go.
The venue was originally idle for the evening, due for some minor maintenance and prep before a big Korean popstar was due to come in and tape a TV special at the start of her American tour. We managed to work with the venue and promoters to free up the evening – by hiring three full crews to do the work of one in half the time, carving out space for our guerrilla performance.
Kirk seemed to know everyone. Or he at least knew people who knew people and managed to wrangle much of the L.A. Phil on one of their off nights. Some had commitments and couldn't help, but were easily subbed by session players from the deep and talented local music ranks.
I suspect what attracted them as much as the scale-plus of this last minute, potentially viral gig, and the fact that it was a tremendous networking opportunity, was that Kirk had 'warned' them ...teased them actually... that since everything was coming together SO fast, that much of this gig would be almost like a jam. A 116 piece orchestral improvisation – they would know the basics, the setlist and possible alternates, all the 'extras' were standards they were familiar with. They would be provided with rudimentary charts but would have zero rehearsal time on the 'possible detours'.
Most of these folks were already quite familiar with the 'Birds score and had been involved in the film score tracking or recording the 'temp tracks' Kirk had put together for the soundtrack album. The other stuff, he hinted, were all warhorses from films and Broadway classics.
He gave them enough vague notes that they knew what they might be called upon to play, and his 'skeleton charts' laid out anything they could expect to be hit with. But most of the 'extra' stuff had absolutely NO arrangement. Kirk assuring – and maybe challenging – every one of the 116 musicians he personally phoned, that he believed that they were up for this unprecedented challenge, and could be a crucial part of 'making magic – and history'. It was an awesome peptalk. I witnessed him giving it repeatedly as I overheard him from his office. He would occasionally glance at me with excitement – and maybe a touch of trepidation – he had heard the Vienna recordings, and was quite familiar with Eoin Colleen and Cyril's talents. I think his biggest concern was whether I was just the fortunate recipient of 'beginners luck' in Vienna. I wondered the same thing. We would both soon find out.
The evening's program was WAY more ambitious than Vienna – and with even less rehearsal! If my co-conspirators – all seasoned musical theater vets – had any concerns, they hid them masterfully. We were all riding on an adrenaline rush. Kirk was leading our hastily assembled orchestra and quickly whipped them into performing shape. Though considering the pedigree of the players, that was really more a confirmation than a surprise. Our intern documentary crew was discreetly milling around the venue, capturing footage of everyone preparing, while others were out in the crowd chatting with the still perplexed and overwhelmed audience who were trying to guess exactly WHAT they were about to see.
Finally, as the sun set and the lights rose on the shell, Dez took the stage and introduced himself to thunderous applause – a promising start.... he gave his little speech about how the original cut of the Thornbirds ran about 26 hours, which got the expected laugh, and how every cut he had to make was like throwing one of his children from a lifeboat so that the remaining would survive. He thanked the audience for making 'Birds an even bigger hit than he'd dared dream. Which brought another huge wave of applause. Presumably the fans were applauding themselves.
He then went on to explain that as a 'thank you' to the superfans who made the film exceed the wildest hopes of its creators, the original cast had all been gathered, 'plucked away' he'd put it, from their current roles in theater, TV and movies, to reprise – live on stage – 'Birds as he'd originally envisioned it, with all the cut pieces restored. All his 'abandoned children' as he put it, were gathered back together, to be breathed life by the original cast. He also mentioned that there were SO many pieces lost before we even assembled to film, that it was OUR first time performing some of them, and he asked the audience ahead of time, for indulgence, if some of the new stuff was ...a little rough.
Of course we had all run through this stuff at least a few times on our own, but if the audience thought it was a first time tightrope walk with no net, that just made for a more electrifying performance. And if we ….okay, actually me as the only non stage veteran, did screw up, Dez had already set expectations kind of low, so I knew they would cut us a little slack.
The initial set went over really well. The orchestra was marvelous and played with real emotion, maybe because it was only their second or third time going through the entire set, and their first with a live – and very responsive audience.
We launched into the 'extra stuff' – which was really just setting expectations among the superfans for material they'd only be able to hear again by buying the already greatly expanded soundtrack once it was released. They were quite enthusiastic about all the additional numbers. We exhausted Kirk's original material, grabbed hands on stage, made a group bow and thanked everyone for coming and for being 'Bird lovers. We walked off the stage and went our separate ways to hit restrooms, grab a water, maybe sit and catch our breath, and listen to the house monitors for the sounds from the audience mics.
As we had planned, our crowd of superfans was NOT tired, and they were NOT sated. We had counted on shouts for an encore, but no one, not even me, had expected the rhythmic foot stomping. I thought even nearby seismometers would pick that up. It was pretty impressive. And compelling.
Dez and Kirk exchanged nods as he gathered the orchestra to begin heading back to the stage. The applause as they drifted back to their positions was deafening. Dez and I exchanged huge smiles as I joined my grinning colleagues to head for the stage and begin our 'improvisational' segment.
We walked back out on stage and again joined hands in a group bow to hoots and whistles from the darkness beyond the stage. We mock huddled – as rehearsed. Then Eoin & Cyril walked over to 'consult' with Kirk. Their huddle was a bit of brilliant pantomime. The gestures and posing by all three was classic silent movie stuff. Although not a word was overheard, it was clear to the whole audience that they were discussing – and arguing about – what to do for their 'unexpected encore'.
Finally the scrum broke and Eoin and Cyril returned to us beaming.
“God, this is so much FUN.” Cyril whispered to us. “I feel like Douglas Fairbanks!” He exaggeratedly leaned in to Colleen and me, extending his full arm to point at Kirk who was now seemingly briefing the orchestra – who were also doing a great job at feigning shock and anxiety. Eoin was leaning in too, wildly nodding his head at every exaggerated motion Cyril made to us.
“Are we overdoing this?” Cyril quietly asked while motioning like a madman toward the orchestra then sweeping his hand out toward the audience while we all appeared to furrow our brow at what he presumably just told us.
“Absolutely NOT!” I quietly declared while nodding my head and pointing between Colleen and myself, then over to Eoin. I was relishing that my physical actions appeared to be completely contrary to what I was clandestinely saying to my group. “This is perfect!” I said while scowling and shaking my head.
“They're reading our body language and figure we're putting this together on the fly. While I know you all have scary-long resumes, I presume none of you were ever a mime?” I chuckled loudly to indicate my true feelings since my body language appeared to be that of an agitated woman being swept over a cliff by her friends.
“There's no way even the least perceptive person out there won't be thinking what we want them to think, seeing us flailing on stage.” I assured them.
“What f they can read lips?” Cyril muttered.
“Oh shit. I hadn't thought of that.” Eoin gasped, and his face portrayed his true emotions. Fortunately, that still kept with the message we were sending to the audience, that we were anxiously making this up on the fly.
“Unless they have a telescope, it doesn't matter.” I said flatly. “So let's just proceed with the plan. OK, are we good?” And I finally let my own face show my true resolve to move on, since this was the point where the ruse and reality rejoined anyway.
We all nodded and smiled in agreement. Eoin and Cyril went back to Kirk, who had returned to the podium and had been waiting for us to finish our huddle. After they all nodded their concurrence, Kirk seemed to holler something to the orchestra, who all hurriedly turned pages on their music stands, Eoin walked to the mic at center stage and addressed the crowd.
“Thank you so much for your enthusiasm. We actually got so caught up in your acceptance and excitement that we burned through all our material and left nothing for an encore.”
The audience responded... emotionally... it seemed a mixture of disappointment and impatient expectation.
“So, if it's all right with you... we're kind of winging it here... but we've all done a lot of other stuff over the course of our careers” ...then he shot me a pointed look and a wicked grin “..well MOST of us.... but if it's OK by you, and since I think they're all things the band is familiar with...” he glanced to Kirk who nodded – along with various members of the orchestra who were obviously getting into this ruse.... “well, maybe we'd do some other stuff you may know...” and he nodded to Kirk who raised his baton to the orchestra, which immediately launched into 'Time Warp' from Rocky Horror, which drew an immediate roar from the audience. Our 'Broadway Jam' had commenced with a bang - and a jump to the left.... then a step to the right.....
Our veterans had a lot of fun doing warhorses from the Broadway songbook, each of which they had a personal involvement with. As their set went on, I stood by the sidelights looking more and more dejected. Finally after Colleen had finished a rather tongue-in-cheek rendition of “Maria” from Sound of Music, Kirk motioned for me to join them at center stage.
“In all the fun we've been having remembering the great music we've been able to make over the years, I fear we've been leaving someone out.....”
As I walked across the stage, I could hear the roar from the audience, and it moved me like that time at the Ciregna tribute. God, these people truly loved Katherine.
I leaned into the mic Eoin was holding... “No. It's only fair. YOU'RE the Broadway stars... I was just a model... while you were in Playbill, I was in Playboy.”
“YOU were in PLAYBOY!?!” Cyril blurted. That was unplanned, but not unwelcome.
“No, actually.” I shook my head sullenly. "Not really. They complained they'd need an extra fold.”
That brought a laugh from the audience and Cyril snapped his head back as if I'd set him up. I crinkled my eyes and gave him a tiny smile and he relaxed, knowing I just returned his unexpected volley.
Eoin quickly got back on script. “OK... you never did musical theater ….YET...” he shot me a conspiratorial wink. “But it's clear to everyone here that you CAN sing... is there anything you DO know that we can do with you?”
I shrugged. “Sure I love all these songs, and I've heard them a million times... like everyone... but it's not like I've ever studied them or memorized the words.”
He nodded. “Maybe we can help you through if you get stuck. Want to give it a try?”
I shrugged and the audience clapped supportively.
“Well, the last number reminded me that like everyone else I watched the Sound of Music until I wore out the old VHS.... I'm not ready to solo here....um... maybe that duet between Leisl & Rolf?”
Eoin smiled at me and gestured between the two of us questioningly. I nodded. Cyril and Colleen smiled and backed off, observing from the sidelines. Eoin glanced at Kirk, who seemed to address his players... they just looked at each other, shrugging then nodding acting as if this was unplanned. Kirk lifted his baton and the orchestra played a middle C. he looked to Eoin who turned to me. I shrugged. I don't think anyone caught on that this was all worked out in advance.
Kirk waved his hands to set the tempo and count down the players and they broke into “16 going on 17” as I grabbed the mic from Eoin and began to sing, looking into his eyes....
“I am six feet going on seven feet...” I held my poker face as he began to smirk. I instantly threw a look of panic on my face as if I forgot the lyrics. The orchestra went on a bar or two before stopping. I could already hear the titters from the seats in the darkness.
I looked anxiously at Kirk, then at Eoin who regarded me uncertainly – all staged – and said into the mic... “sorry... stage fright... I blanked out...” as Eoin was shaking his head saying 'those aren't the words' while I ignored him. I nodded to Kirk who started the orchestra again. I could already tell by their playing that they were much looser and having more fun. Even though they knew what was going to happen, I think when it actually did it helped them get into it.
I looked to Eoin and sang, more confidently this time
“I am six feet going on seven feet. As you can plainly see....”
Then I put a panicked look on my face, stiffened my back and furrowed my brow as if trying to remember ...or improvise....
“I'm too skinny for double-u NBA, what will become of me....”
Eoin already knew I was going to 'go rogue' but I had not shared specifically how. I could see his chest heaving as he tried to stifle his reaction. On cue, he put his hand up sternly and said as disapprovingly as he could muster “That's NOT how it goes!”
I shrugged. “I remember the music.... not so much the words....”
He was fully back in character by now.... “OK. Forget that. How about something ...more familiar... at least you know your scales, right?”
I nodded sheepishly. He motioned to Kirk who launched the orchestra into the old warhorse and I began to sing.
“D'oh, a think that Homer says...”
“Ray, A futuristic gun...”
“ME, for when you mail to Maine...”
“Fah, wicked long Boston run...”
Eoin was crossing his arms, keeping in character, scowling at me. I was beaming like a proud three year old at a recital.
“SO, the way to spread some seeds”
“LA, this city we all know”
“T, that guy from Rocky three” I winced guiltily at the almost-rhyme.
“Which just lead us back to ….D'oh!” and I muttered it like Homer Simpson as Eoin waved his hands to stop the band.
I heard the audience laughing, then right on cue, I heard a commotion and murmuring down front and watched front of the stage as the lone figure stormed up. Eoin, who had not been briefed about this, startled at the sight and gave me a panicked glance. I just smiled and winked at him as I motioned to wave off two burly security folks who were in on it and appeared to be hurrying to intercept the storming figure.
She ripped the mic out of my hand and went nose to nose with a visibly rattled Eoin.
“Good GOD! How the HELL did she get the role over ME? She doesn't even know any WORDS???”
I yanked the mic out of Bianca's hands and said haughtily “ex-CUSE me.... I know LOTS of words! ….and a few come to mind looking at you!” She smirked almost imperceptibly. “I know ALL the words to Thornbirds...” I turned to the audience “Did I mess anything up.... until we went ...off script?”
I heard a general murmuring from the crowd. I'm not sure that they were buying that this was unplanned, but they still seemed to be into it.
“AND I had to sing it all in Australian!” I said aggressively leaning into her face.
She angrily grabbed my mic back. “So WHAT? I AM Australian!” she bellowed. She was really convincing. I was beginning to wonder if all this indignation was entirely just part of the act.
“Yeah? Well.... you've never done a musical before....”
“Well, neither had YOU!” she shot back. Which made me wonder, what the hell was Dez thinking when he cast Katherine?
“Oh YEAH????” I countered returning her glare. I could tell from the tense silence that the audience, and maybe everyone else on stage who wasn't actually in on it was totally buying this. I only hoped Bianca was secretly having as much fun as I was.
“....well... I was in, like, a dozen music videos!”
“As wallpaper for other bands!”
“Humpph!” I snorted. “I KNOW music... Broadway music... just as much... MORE than you!”
Bianca sneered. I stormed over to a stunned Eoin, who knew this was obviously a setup, but since he wasn't in on it, he was as transfixed as anyone. I pried the mic from his hand and stormed back to Bianca raising it to me as I approached her and launched acapella into “Anything you can do, I can do better” from Annie Get Your Gun.
Bianca was really good, she dove right in on cue as the orchestra seemed to jump in to catch up with us, and the musical sparring began. We really hammed it up and as we finished I did something we hadn't rehearsed. I lifted my hand to my mouth and mimed spritzing two shots of breath spray into my mouth. Dennis had told me this was something Katherine used to do across a room to annoy 'Binaca'. Her head jerked back as if I'd spit at her. Then I turned my imaginary spray towards her and held it like I was macing her ...or spraying a bug. With my other hand I waved to security as they came up to escort her offstage, grabbing her by her bent elbows and hoisting her feet off the floor. This was the slapstick exit we'd discussed, but she feigned annoyance really well. Still from up close, the gleam in her eye betrayed that she was loving this. I thought to myself that she would be great at physical comedy, and maybe our stunt tonight would give someone in this town some new ideas about her range. As she was being spirited offstage, I launched into 'So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu. They gave, the role, to me and not to you....” and as if THEY had rehearsed with us, the audience erupted.
Kirk knew we would end our bit with that song, but nobody had heard my lyrics. Even the orchestra got a little ragged when I sang those.
Eion, Cyril and Colleen rejoined me on stage and we ran through a lot of the other standards we had done in Vienna. Both the performers, audience, and our tireless documentary crew seemed to be having a good time and enjoying the night, but it got rather late, we were only permitted until midnight and we were looking at serious overage fees on the buses we'd leased - not to mention the various unions if the clock turned round to a new calendar day. While Colleen was doing her trademark 'Send in the clowns' with Cyril, I got ready backstage to join Eoin for our last number.
The chestnut 'Wind beneath my wings' was a bit hackneyed, but it really was sincere in a way when I thought of all that Eoin had done for Katherine's career, from by all accounts nurturing her through her performances during the filming of 'Birds, to agreeing to 'the boyfriend thing' from the PR folks... to being an immensely good sport as we barnstormed North America and Europe on the publicity binge. I sang from the heart for everything he did for Katherine, and the tremendous support and camaraderie he had given me while we were on the road.
That did not mean I was above one last 'gotcha', as on the final line of our song, I tugged on the drawstring, dropping my flowing sheath to the floor and revealing a reasonable replica of Ciregna's notorious Victoria's Secret outfit, replete with wings, which thanks to Dennis' amazing connections in the special effects world, not only unfurled spectacularly on cue, but with another discreet tug, worked exactly as planned and enveloped Eoin and I in our embrace as the lights went down.
Well, it looked like an embrace. The moment the wings popped out, I noticed so did Eoin's eyes. His face turned beet red and he stifled any outburst, but I thought for a moment his head might explode.
I saw his legs turn to jelly, so I grabbed him and pulled him tightly to me... which had always been my plan for when I drew the wings around. I just hadn't expected that I'd have to be holding him UP. He was convulsing too hard to stand on his own. Fortunately our mics had already been cut as the orchestra swelled and I turned away from the front of the stage so my left side and back were to the audience with the wings pretty much wrapped around Eoin and me. He buried his head into my right shoulder, which pretty much muffled his shrieks of laughter, and I think with the exception of a few nearby stagehands and perhaps the first row of the orchestra closest to us, no one was the wiser. It just looked like a flamboyant, but fitting end to this over-the-top tribute to our burgeoning camp classic.
I was pleased when we staggered offstage, Eoin still clinging to me like an oversized infant in a defective bjorn. Colleen, Cyril and a few stagehands helped carry him away as Dez just shook his head and grinned from across the way. 'Mission Accomplished?' I mouthed with a thumbs up and a raised eyebrow. He just nodded, grinning from ear to ear as Kirk joined him backstage and huddled to go over the night's events.
The next day, we gathered at Kirk's offices to watch raw footage the USC kids had shot. Although we already knew from the flurry of cellphone videos on Twitter, You Tube and Instagram that there was lots of good stuff, even from seats deep in the audience.
I was relieved to see that the 'Wing Wrap' came off looking as campy and schmaltzy as I intended, but not like a joke, which it would have if I hadn't been able to shield Eoin once he lost it. Everyone who was there was surprised at how it looked on camera. I had hoped this was how it would work and was relieved that it actually had.
Kirk informed us that we had enough usable stuff from the concert that if we chose to release the soundtrack as a live album, we were as good as done. I don't think any of us wanted to break up and go our separate ways so quickly, and we had all cleared our calendars for the week of recording, so we unanimously agreed to go back and cut a real studio version as well. Maybe it was because the material was all so familiar after the live performance, but we wrapped everything up in two 16 hour days, and said our 'so longs' until we'd regroup to storm Asia on the final leg of this extraordinary adventure.
“Michael!” I scolded. “Stop that!”
His look was quite sheepish as he contritely put his hands to his sides.
“If you keep stroking it you'll go blind!” I glowered.
That had the desired effect as he snickered then broke into a full fledged laugh as he walked across the room and wrapped himself into me in a hug.
“I can't help it. They're just so cool!” he said eyeing the wings folded up in the corner. “...do you think maybe they'll let us... let you keep them?”
I glanced down at him. “What on earth would you possibly want.... wait a minute... you're not going all Icarus on me are you?!” I exclaimed. “I will not have that on my conscience!”
He just laughed. “No. No... it's just.... this all seems so unbelievable.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I just think, when this is all over.... some morning I'll wake up in my own bed in my own room and wonder if it was all some amazing incredible dream.”
“TELL me about it!” I grinned.
“I mean, we're not allowed to talk about this ...ever... What if even we begin to doubt our own memories that this ever really happened?”
“Well, stealing souvenirs is not the way to prove it.” I chuckled. “Although I'm not returning that delicious robe I ….accidentally... packed in Luxembourg.”
Mikey grinned up at me. “Seriously, cuz. How will we remember this?”
“Do you think you could ever forget it?” I gently asked.
He shook his head. “Of course not. But I worry that it will quickly seem unreal. It already seems unreal.”
“Seems pretty real to me” I sighed. “...can't see that changing....”
Suddenly Mikey's demeanor changed. The playfulness evaporated.
“Oh. God... I hadn't really thought about that... I can't imagine what it must be like for you. You've been Katherine 24/7 for.... oh, shit. How are you going to go back to being.... oh shit.... that time with uncle Kevin was a joke... and you had only been Katherine for...” his face went ashen and he looked up at me wide-eyed. “Oh, SHIT!”
I smiled down at him. “...yeah.”
“What are we gonna DO L.C.?” panic began to rise in his voice. “Oh, God... what are YOU gonna do?!!”
I hugged him close and smiled down at him as placidly as I could muster. “I... am going to ...get on with my life.” I shrugged.
He just stared at me. He was not accepting that brief answer.
I sighed.
“I am going to go home. Cash Mr Lehmann's ridiculously large checque... and finally give my father the snooker room he always wanted. I'm getting a place of my own... on my own... as far away from Newstead as possible.”
“As far away from old baggage as possible.”
I nodded.
“As far away from old bullies, old memories... old expectations.” he said quietly.
I smiled and nodded again.
“So you'll be a fresh face in a new place. Just another stranger in a crowd.”
“That's the plan.” I nodded.
“...Just another girl in the crowd...” he muttered and shot me a glance.
“...that obvious?” I frowned.
Mikey shot me a warm gaze. There was a lot of love in that look. And ...acceptance? He smiled and nodded. “Pretty much.”
I blew out some air. “This certainly wasn't what I intended. Nowhere on my 'what I want to be when I grow up' list did I ever put 'lady'!”
Mikey laughed. “I don't think I ever asked. What DID you want to be when you grew up? What WAS on the list?”
I shook my head and let out a small laugh. “Nothing really. About the only thing I wanted to be when I grew up was ...out of the house....”
“Done” Mikey smiled. I nodded at the realization.
“I just really wanted to be away from school... away from my dad.... away from uncle Kevin... as for the rest... I always thought I'd figure that out when I got there....”
“Looks like you have” Mikey said gently.
I barked out a reflexive laugh at the realization.
“...so it would seem....” I murmured. As much to myself as to Mikey, who I pulled into a tighter hug.
“...still... our ride isn't over yet” I said, regaining my composure. “There's still lots of Katherine Keller mischief to inflict. There's a whole untouched hemisphere awaiting the 'Bird invasion!”
Mikey grinned. “Yeah. I'm dying to see Japan and Hong Kong and Korea and Taiwan and Beijing and Bangkok and...”
“Brisbane... you'll roll into town a conquering hero with a big Hollywood press tour. Your old mates will be beside themselves.” I smiled.
“Yeah. And maybe this will get Mum & Dad to finally stop worrying when they see what I've made of myself.”
I smiled politely, hoping he would not go where he then immediately went.
“...And when your mum and dad see what you've made of yourself.....”
I grimaced. “...yeah... still working on that....”
Mikey knew I had no idea how to handle that. I could see on his face how terrible he felt for bringing it up. Despite my own growing despair over the matter, I felt compelled to cheer him up.
“It will sort itself out. Meanwhile, we have 18 cities in 10 countries to dazzle. I need to sit with you and Dennis and brainstorm some ideas. ….what do you know about Otaku culture?”
Mikey's face exploded into a mischievous grin. Distraction accomplished.
While Mikey and I were trolling the internet for customs, cultures and quirks of the various countries we would be visiting, my phone chirped with a text.
I figured it would be Dez, although I considered it might be Eoin or Kirk. A little voice in the back of my head thought it could even be Bianca.
Nope.
I swallowed hard when I saw the 203 area code.
What the hell happened?
I quickly excused myself from Mikey and curled up into a chair in the corner where I cradled the phone between my folded knees and texted her back.
You mean the Hollywood Bowl thing?
Yes
It was a guerrilla promotion stunt to push the upcoming soundtrack album – AND give us more time to rehearse – AND shoot the concert so we had more material for DVD extras and stuff.
Not that.
Oh, crap. I was busted. Knew it the moment I saw Katherine's number.
You mean Bianca.
Yes
I didn't respond immediately. I was trying to figure out exactly what I was going to say... how I was going to explain this. While I was hesitating, formulating my reply, Katherine apparently got tired of waiting.
Did she actually storm the stage?
Yes.... but I knew it was going to happen... we sort of set it up.
You collaborated with her?
Not exactly ...collaborate... it was more like.... would this be easier to do with a voice call?
No.
That was it. A one word reply. No elaboration or explanation... No matter how hard I tried to capture the essence of Katherine-ness, little things like this would continue to surprise me.
OK. Let me explain.
No response. I presumed she was waiting. And I was still trying to figure out how TO explain. There was a long pause... it had to be minutes....I took a moment from thinking about my reply to text check Katherine.
Are you still there?
Yes
And more long silence until finally I decided to just plunge in.
You know I accidentally crashed a pilot she was secretly filming at UCLA? We kind of got into it.
Yes
That was not a stunt. That just happened. And the internet just blew up.
I saw.
After that, I contacted her to say it wasn't really a setup. It was a genuine accident. But I also mentioned that the internet firestorm was beneficial for both of us. She seemed to hate it, but she had to agree with me. So I suggested that we... fan the flames.
She agreed?
Finally, but it was a hard sell. She was convinced that I was setting her up.
She would
But I wasn't.
I would
I didn't HAVE to. The concert was already coming together, and I thought if I crashed her thing – even accidentally, it would be payback if she crashed mine ...yours... the Thornbirds live show. I knew we were going to do some Broadway standards and I suddenly remembered that old song from Annie get your gun, which is kind of like a musical duel.
I don't know it
I watched it with my mother countless times as a kid. She loved musicals as much as my Dad hated them, so whenever he ditched us to go to the pub, she would put on 'her shows' & I'd curl up on the couch with her until I fell asleep. So I knew this would be perfect for a face to face showdown. Her storming the stage and our fighting by a SONG is so corny it may as well have BEEN in a musical. She agreed to the idea and it seemed to work. We both got major traction out of it It was a win-win.
You didn't make peace with her
No. A truce at most. You have worked together in the past.
Yes
Yet you never made up. I presume it was all business.
Yes
Same thing here. We won't be having sleepovers or braiding each others hair.
What did she tell you
Nothing. She barely spoke to me. Why?
Good. You're doing fine. Just don't get carried away and build bridges I'll only have to burn.
No ma'am. I never forget that once we finish Asia, I'm done and it's your life again. I don't want you to come back to anything that wasn't the way you left it.
Too late for that. Lorne Cullen is already fielding offers for other musicals and even an offer for a duet on a Lady Gaga album.
Sorry.
I'll shut it down when I get back. Generally you've been good for business. HauteShot is having it's best year yet and I still get to relax.
How is that going? The relaxing.
Strange, but I'm getting used to it. I'll be bored and ready to jump back in when you finish Asia in 3 weeks.
I must say thanks to you and Dez and Dr Dale for this opportunity. I'm glad if I could help. It was an adventure. However surreal.
Surreal is what it is. Always. That is why I needed to step away.
I understand. More each day. It's been a pleasure.
Good. Dale says you are doing well, so just keep doing it. And no bridge building.
Understood.
And that was it. No goodbye, goodluck, godspeed or anything. Not even a Bianca 'L8R freak'. But then again, that's Katherine.
I texted Dennis.
I just got off the phone with our pal in Putnam. We need to talk.
OMG you CALLED her?
Not me.
She called YOU?
Texted actually.
Of course. Yes, must talk. I will find you as soon as I get home. Within the hour.
I never really knew exactly what Dennis did for Katherine – and her household at casa Keller. As far as I could tell, if it wasn't someone elses specific job, Dennis did it. I wondered how Katherine was getting along without him. Then I thought that she seemed to stay holed up in that house with very little social interaction, and she did have housecalls from Dale every few weeks, so I guess she had what she needed. I knew I would be utterly lost without Dennis in my life ….in Katherine's 'official' life.
When I got back to Mikey, he was like a kid before Christmas. He showed me some items he found on EBay and explained what he had in mind. I nodded my approval and managed to suppress my smirk. I think he had a devilish idea, but when he explained his scheme, my imagination took it much further. It was far too early to share my idea, since we didn't even know if the item was remotely what it appeared to be, let alone whether we would take delivery before we left for Asia. Then I began to wonder how on earth we would explain the thing to customs inspectors. I realized I was getting ahead of myself, so I sent myself a little email reminder for later and moved on. Mikey was already tearing through videos of K-Pop idols, so I joined him in screening the videos while trying to figure out what he was watching and why. He had something up his sleeve and I wanted to see if I could guess what it was before he told me.
Mikey and I were sitting over iced teas and snacks discussing our 'Asia blitz'. He seemed a little distracted.
“....What?....” I asked him.
He shook off his distraction and glanced at me. “Huh?”
“You seem distracted. Penny for your thoughts.”
“US or Australian?” he laughed hollowly.
I simply raised an eyebrow and cocked my head.
“....I was just thinking.... it's been a pretty wild ride... way more than I expected.... than either of us expected?”
My nod was as understated as his declaration. He laughed again. It still sounded conflicted.
“I never could have imagined....” he muttered. I don't know whether he was talking to me or himself. Maybe he was just thinking out loud. He shook his head and grinned. “God. The places we've seen! ….not just Hollywood, but most of the USA....”
“...AND lots of Canada and I think a bit of Mexico too!” I held up a finger.
He nodded and waved his hand in a circle.... “And Iceland and Ireland and Belgium and Stockholm and London and Paris and Marsielles... Monaco and Geneva and Vienna and Berlin and Belgium and Spain...”
I laughed. “OK Carmen San Diego... stop reciting your luggage tags! Yeah... we got around.”
He smiled at me. “AND Catalina Island ...and the Hollywood Bowl....GOD that was fun.”
I nodded, returning his smile. Then a wistful look came over his face.
“....And those were the best because I got to hang out with you. Dennis is the best.... he's told me so many juicy Hollywood stories... and about some of his adventures with Katherine when they were jetsetting around the fashion world. But you were off ...being Katherine.... we came out here to have adventures together. I know it was the cover story... but I never considered you my 'chaperon'. You were my collaborator. My partner in this adventure. My......”
“If you say 'sidekick' I'm throwing a tomatino at you.” I warned with a grin.
Mikey sighed. “....soon it's back home... to the real world. ….And with all the stuff we DID.... you and I never.... “
I shot him a curious look. With everything we had done, what hadn't we done?
He looked at me sheepishly. “Remember that first night, when I suggested we hit some posh restaurant and maybe a chic club?”
I nodded. “And I said there was no way a couple of teenaged tourists could even get in to those kind of places, let alone afford them.”
He looked at me sheepishly. “.....that wouldn't seem to be so much of a barrier....now....”
I couldn't help but smile. I told him I'd see what I could do, and as soon as we finished lunch, I got together with Dennis.
“I presume Michael told you he wants to 'do the town'?”
“He may have mentioned something about that a time or two....” Dennis grinned.
“...or two thousand?” I laughed. Dennis nodded as his grin got bigger.
“Yeah... that sounds more like it.... although in all honesty he was never really a pest about it.”
“More like a kid dropping hints about what he wants for Christmas?” I inquired with a sly smile.
“That sounds about right. So, Santa... what do you say?” Dennis grinned.
I rubbed my chin. “That depends... was he a good little boy?”
Dennis laughed. “Absolutely. He diligently did his chores, always cleaned his plate, and was a very attentive and well behaved young man.”
“Well, then...” I folded my hands primly. “It seems he deserves a reward... what do you think... a pizza party at Chuck E. Cheese's? Burgers at Carl's Jr?”
“Or we could just go clubbing. I'm sure the denizens have missed Katherine at her usual haunts.” Dennis laughed. “..Still.... I would love to see the look on Michael's face when your limo pulls up to Chuck E Cheese's!”
I mock-grimaced. “Yeah... we still have the Asian leg of the tour to get through, and something tells me if we took Michael to Chuck E Cheeses, it would get ugly quickly.... and Katherine needs to avoid any more encounters with local law enforcement.”
Dennis laughed. “Oh God! No more run ins with men in blue ….unless their uniforms are breakaways!”
I shot up and shimmied over to to him grinning like an idiot and singing at the top of my lungs “It's fun to stay with the P-D-L-A....”
He threw his head back and roared a laugh as we mock disco danced together.
When we finally calmed down, he said “what do you think... dinner and schmoozing at Cheval de Mer then hit Tritium and let our hair down?”
“I don't know what any of those places are. Are those Katherine spots?”
Dennis shot me a sly look. “Let's just say She's not unfamiliar with them. ….or they with her. She can jump the line and waltz in anytime and they won't blink.”
“OK. But I still think it's polite to make reservations....”
Dennis snorted. “The sort of folks who make reservations have to do so months in advance.”
“....Well... at least let them know we're coming?”
Dennis nodded with a smile. “I'm sure they would appreciate the warning. Sure hon. No problem. So how many will there be? You and your cousin.....”
“And you of course....”
Dennis drew back with a gasp and placed the back of his hand to his chest. “Oh, NO. No no... that's simply not done! The P.A. Makes all the arrangements but never goes along. Certainly not to CDM and Tritium! That would be ….scandalous!”
“Oh. Right. Wouldn't want to buck convention and tarnish Katherine's reputation as keeper of the status quo.” I said in an exaggerated appalled tone of voice.
Dennis snickered. “Yeah. If anyone would do something as outrageous as bringing the help along to the most exclusive restaurant in town and probably being secretly pleased at pissing everyone off, it would be Katherine.”
I smiled. “I'm not going to get her ...like... banned or anything, am I?”
Dennis shook his head and smirked. “Nah. That will just enhance her 'outlaw' reputation. She'll love it when she hears.”
“Glad to hear. Maybe you should send her some selfies when we go.”
He gasped. “I couldn't!”
I laughed. “Just tell her I made you! And if you and Michael corner any celebs for group selfies – tell them I made you!”
Dennis returned my laugh. “OK. THAT everyone will believe.”
“So is tonight too soon?” I asked uncertainly.
Dennis shook his head. “For THEM... yes. Hell, anything the rest of this year is probably too soon for them. But this is Katherine... and they're used to it. Actually, your idea of warning them was super.... they'll appreciate even a few hours notice instead of the usual ambush.”
I started to leave while Dennis picked up the phone to begin moving mountains for Katherine's night on the town with her minions. I stopped and glanced over my shoulder.
“Oh. What's the dress code?”
Dennis didn't even blink. “Don't give it a thought hon. I know the perfect outfit. You'll be dazzling!”
“Actually... I was thinking about you and Michael... he has nothing in his wardrobe for a night of hobnobbing. Do you hobnob much? Do you have anything.... what exactly is the dresscode?”
“For us... pretentious casual... ideally, an ensemble custom designed to show how much you 'aren't a slave to fashion' I'm sure I can whip something up for both of us. And of course you will be blindingly beautiful in a 'what? I just woke up like this' way...” He laughed. “Don't worry 'bout a thing. This is my element.... I could do this in my sleep!”
I left Dennis to his minionly mountain moving and found Mikey on the patio by the kitchen reading Variety.
“Looks like you took to this life like a duck to water” I laughed.
“Looks like we both did” he laughed and instantly froze up, turning to me with a look of panic.
I wasn't expecting that. I think his impulsive comment took us both by surprise. But while startled, I knew instantly that I wasn't offended.
“True.... but not quite the same way.” I grinned. And he smiled back with relief.
I eyed his copy of Variety. “Planning to be a big Hollywood bigshot?” I teased.
“Small steps cuz.” he smiled. “Some of us have to wade out a footstep at a time. We can't all dive into the deep end..”
“The shark infested deep end....” I raised my index finger grinning.
Mikey laughed. “Sharks. Giant Squids. Krakken. Cthulu....”
“All in the most expensive suits.” I laughed back.
“I have to admit, L.C.” Mikey began, all serious now. “After hanging with Dennis and hearing the stories and him explaining the things I was seeing.... after learning... what's that saying? 'How the sausage gets made'? …. well after learning about that I now know..”
“Why everyone in this town is vegan? ...or at least bulimic?” I teased, trying to lighten his mood.
He laughed dutifully. “Maybe that too... but I learned that making art and making deals are two very different skillsets that only narrowly intersect. If you're only good at one, your masterpiece will never get made.... and if you're only good at the other... well, it explains so much of what does get made.”
I nodded.
“So the trick is to be good enough at one to be able to show how good you are at the other.”
“Sounds like you've cracked it.” I smiled.
“Knowing what to do and even how ...has little to do with getting the opportunity to actually do it.”
“Before you get your foot in the door, you need to get someone to at least open it” I nodded.
“L.C. This is what I want to DO with my life. I'm not sure exactly where or how I fit in... but everything about this... resonates in me.”
“I understand.”
“Do you really? Can you get how right this all feels and how serious and focused I am on actually making this happen?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes. I really do. The details are completely different, but I get it. You see what can be and know that no matter what, you will not be deterred from making it happen. Whatever success you may or may not meet with, you will not be distracted or deterred.”
He gave me a long look and nodded. “Yeah. The details are completely different..... but... I know you do get it.”
I clapped my hands together and brought us back on track. “So. Since part of your plan for world domination involves not just seeing but being seen... AND because – as you reminded me – we never really DID the town the way you wanted, and ...yes... now we ….ok, I... can... I have to ask you...”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Do you have any plans for tonight? ….and if so, can they be broken?”
Mikey broke into a slow grin and I knew, yes... I was the best chaperon ever!
I think I always knew it – at least subconsciously – ever since the encounter with uncle Kevin, but I had to admit... Dennis is a wizard. I can't imagine where I ...or Katherine for that matter... would be without him.
The 'reservations' (actually warnings of impending crashes) were confirmed. Mikey and Dennis were decked out like Details cover models. And I was.... let's just say Dennis knows how to outfit Katherine for maximum impact.
I really did not think I would be able to slip into that outfit unless he spray painted it on. Still, Dennis knew Katherine – and her capabilities. And, since I was eerily close to Katherine's ...odd... proportions, his skill was proven once again.
I stared at the mirror and tried to grasp that I was looking at an actual person and not a photoshopped magazine cover... I had a hard enough time believing that Katherine Keller could actually look like this …. let alone a Katherine Keller impersonator... I did not even try to wrap my mind around the fact that the Katherine Keller impersonator was actually ME – the gangly kid from Newstead who spent most of his pathetic life hiding from bullies and evading a disapproving dad.
I just looked at the mirror, thought 'yeah... THAT'S Hollywood glamour – thrown into overdrive' and imagined how the paparazzi would climb over each other for a piece of HER. Completely blocking the fact that whatever I saw in the mirror had any relation to …..me.....
I brushed LC... aside and threw myself into the moment... into the role... I was Katherine-bleeping-Keller! I was the eccentric star of the biggest cult hit since Showgirls, and I was going to make the most of my moment of fame... and use it as best I could to get my cousin Michael and Katherine's unsung virtual sibling Dennis, the opportunity and recognition they so richly deserved.
I strutted out to the foyer, looped each of my guys into a joined arm, and strode boldly to our awaiting Jet Ranger.
The limo was waiting when we landed downtown. Apparently Dennis called in a favor from Haute-Shot's bank, so we got to use their rooftop pad. On the way to the restaurant, I had a chance to brief the guys.
“OK. It may seem that the night is about ME. And, no doubt the paparazzi will think it's all about Katherine Keller tearing up the town with minions in tow.... but WE know better....”
I looked long and hard at Mikey.
“I want you to WORK that crowd. Show me everything that Dennis has taught you...”
I glanced at Dennis, who was beaming with the pride of a successful tutor.
“Make a NAME for yourself.... the kind of name that people who don't take you seriously tonight will someday tell their friends 'I remember meeting him when he was NO ONE' ! Make such an impression that when you DO succeed, they will realize what an opportunity they missed.”
Mikey just laughed. “Ohmygod LC, you missed your calling! Move over Tony Robbins... there's a new life coach in town!”
I smiled. “Just don't forget what I said. OWN it. BE it. Trust me. It works.”
Mikey just grinned at me. “Preaching to the choir cuz. I get it!”
“Alright!” I smiled confidently at Mikey and Dennis glancing back at them as I strode to the door “Time to kiss ass and take names!”.
I pushed the restaurant doors open like a western gunslinger storming a saloon.... only in 5” heels and a metallic pewter micro-mini that looked more like a wide belt. I passed the line of waiting patrons as if they were invisible ghosts, striding right up to the Maitre'D.
“Hello, Emil. Plus two.” I stared down at him impatiently. The sky-high heels and impractically fashionable outfit had been Dennis' suggestion, which I gleefully embraced. For this night on the town, I would not just be Katherine... I would be Katherine amped up 'to 11'! Literally larger than life, thanks to the preposterously high heels on my ...our... already preposterously tall frame. I remembered how intimidating the pirate outfit had been at the copyright conference. I think I was at least as formidable in this outfit... even without my pirate sword and scabbard. In these heels, I towered over everyone like a Na'vi. Dennis had briefed me on how to handle the Maitre'D, and it worked flawlessly.
As the cowed Emil grabbed our menus and stepped from the host station, I subtly crooked my fingers at Mikey and Dennis who had been dutifully waiting at the end of the line, acting appalled at my brazen line-jumping. At my discreet gesture, they snapped to my side like trout being yanked into a fishing boat. This did not go unnoticed by the crowd. I think their outrage at being line jumped was replaced with anxious curiosity watching this imperious power play. I think I was doing my bit to further enhance Katherine's disquieting reputation. They may have to wait a bit longer for their table, but they would milk the eyewitness account of 'hurricane Katherine' for years.
We were quickly seated at Katherine's table. I had learned early on that she was very much a creature of habit, so it came as no surprise that 'Katherine's table' was singularly suited to dominate the room. As we perused our menus, I addressed Mikey in my public, Katherine accent quite easily overheard by our conscripted audience. “I wanted to thank you for all your help as our tour and relationship are winding down.”
Mikey nodded, smiling politely and swallowing hard. This really was the beginning of the end of this wild ride, and I think that just sank in.
“I wanted to do something special ...just for you...”
I could see his eyes begin to glisten as Dennis looked on with pride.
“...but there was a wait at Outback Steakhouse, so I hope this will do...”
Mikey deftly stifled his snort.
“I hope you didn't have your heart set on a Bloomin' Onion, but the seafood here is legendary. I'm certain they could barbecue you some shrimp or something.”
Mikey kept his poker face, but his eyes were pleading for me to stop.
There were lots of smiles and nods throughout the restaurant and Dennis quietly told me who each of the folks were. Mostly they were low to mid level functionaries at various companies around town. Mikey could network, but he would be someone trying to break into the business chatting up folks who just got their own feet in the door. Then again, I reasoned, they would be less dismissive of my eager, knowledgeable - and obviously connected - cousin, and maybe he could network with some up and comers and they could each help the other get ahead.
I quietly explained my take to Mikey and he seemed to agree with my reasoning. Or maybe he was just being polite. Still, that seemed to be the plan for the night.
A number of people wandered by our table to 'pay respects' and make pleasant conversation. I invariably quickly turned the conversation to Mikey and somewhat Dennis, explaining how helpful they had been in the success of 'Birds and all the blossoming marketing spinoffs.
In a way, they really were. If not for Michael, I would never have come to Hollywood. And if not for Dennis, I never would have become a believable Katherine. So all my zany ideas and guerrilla stunts that made Thornbirds – arguably - the cult hit of the decade, would not have happened without them. So, yes, I was completely honest when I placed the bulk of the credit in their lap.
The industry folks were skeptical. But they were SO unused to anyone ever attributing credit to anyone else that they had no choice but to take me at my word.
Mikey was brilliant. He's an engaging conversationalist and seemed to know who all of these folks were, or at least about the projects that they were involved with. He got them talking about their own projects and said very encouraging things. He was remarkably diplomatic when people talked about incredibly lame projects they were involved with. I think he made these folks feel better about their involvement in things that even they seemed deeply conflicted about.
He obviously made a clear impression on a lot of low level minions, some of whom would inevitably end up becoming mid level minions. It was a lovely dinner and a very successful networking opportunity... at least far as I was concerned.
I did seize the opportunity to take selfies with Mikey and all all the folks who came to our table to chat. I deliberately tagged the instagrams '#location: REDACTED' but did NOT disable geo-tagging on my phone. Let people think Katherine was technically inept. By the time we left, the paparazzi were waiting. And while I had a chance to work my well practiced 'Katherine scowl' Mikey and Dennis were in every shot. A few of Mikey's new industry contacts even managed to Kanye themselves into a few shots.
We then headed off to some very trendy 'un-club' called Tritium. It was a nondescript building in an industrial area. VERY un-club like. It reminded me a lot of the drag club Mikey, Eoin and I crashed in the meat packing district after my SNL gig... or the Ink & Paint Club in the Roger Rabbit movie, Then and there, I decided to Jessica the HELL out of this opportunity.
We waltzed in and surveyed the room. No minions here. Only power players.
I never imagined it would be a Karaoke club.
Dennis got us in. It reminded me of all those films about speakeasys in the 1920s or the covert clubs in the Matrix movies - only instead of surrendering our weapons, we had to surrender our camerphones. It was very 'secret passphrase', and I don't know how much was legitimate security and how much was 'secret society theater'... but it was delightful to watch, and helped build anticipation for finally traversing the gauntlet into the 'private' club.
There were no low-level minions here. Just a lot of people I didn't recognize. Or Mikey. Dennis, however, knew them all. They were the REAL power behind this town. The financiers and dealmakers with studio heads in tow like purse-puppies. All working the room... at the 'coolest' private club in town. Where anonymous power players mingled with very high-profile celebs.
I was really stunned to see a notorious 50-ish wall street mogul on the stage with a 20 something ingenue best known for her Disney Channel cameos and tween pop-hits up on the Karaoke stage schmoozing their way through a Maroon 5 song.
I breezed through the crowd as if I knew where I was going, even though I was secretly guided by Dennis' hand in the small of my back, directing me through the throng of people greeting me by name while a small entourage built and followed close in our wake like a school of fish. I nodded imperiously to everyone who greeted and ducked in for air kisses with those who bobbed their heads out expectantly. I was struck by how their gesture was not unlike someone sticking their head out for the chopping block, and I was somehow certain that the very same darkly amusing thought had passed through Katherine's mind. By now, I was pretty certain I had the public Katherine persona down cold, so we tore through the crowded club, Dennis discreetly guiding me like a torpedo, until we arrived at a table filled with laughing young people, who definitely did not look like movers and shakers. When we strode up to the table, Dennis removed his hand from the small of my back and I knew we had arrived.
I stood there, staring down at the young people who suddenly became aware of my looming presence and glanced up. I just impassively stared down at them . They began to fidget uncomfortably, still unsure of what was going on. I closed my fingers into relaxed fists and placed them on my hips, continuing my pokerfaced stare at the group around the table. Finally someone from the accumulated followers behind me cleared their throat ….loudly.
The kids at the table looked from me to the large glaring crowd behind me, quickly gathered their drinks, jackets and purses and scurried away. I was about to take the table when it occurred to me that it had just been abandoned and was still rather messy. I paused a moment more, and sure enough, a swarm of busboys swooped in to clean everything up and wipe it all down, the 'alpha busboy' pulling out what was obviously the prime seat and looking up expectantly to me. I sat and nodded imperiously. I saw Dennis slip him something as he disappeared back into the crowd. Dennis and I exchanged a glance, and I could tell from his look that I'd played it just right, and that he was quite pleased.
We were holding court at our ruthlessly acquired Katherine table when Dennis noticed something and drew a sharp breath of shock & disapproval.
“What?” I whispered to Dennis while we were still being surrounded by fawning patrons.
“Huh? ...No....” He glanced distractedly at me. “Probably someone else. ….Must have mistaken....” he muttered while still scanning the crowd like a bird of prey. His next gasp confirmed that he'd found his target.
He reached out his arms and pulled Mikey and me into a huddle. “NiNo is here”. He whispered.
I, of course had no idea who he was talking about, but was surprised at the sudden drama and secrecy. I just raised an eyebrow and shot Dennis a perplexed look.
Mikey's eyes however, went wide. “No! Where???”
Dennis subtly cocked his head to his right. Mikey furrowed his brow peering into the crowd until his eyes went wider still and the strangest look came over his face as if he'd seen a ghost. Or a unicorn.
I however, remained confused. “Who's Nino and how do I know him?”
Mikey was incredulous and, I sensed, a bit contemptuous. “HIM? You mean HER....” he rolled his eyes scornfully.
I turned to Dennis. “OK. How do I ...um how does Katherine know her? ...and how does his nibs know who this Nino is?”
Mikey snorted. “God, I can READ cuz! You've really never heard of Nina Notini? Head of development at Mosaic Pictures until that group from Dubai bought them and replaced their entire management team with their own men. And I mean men. An entire org chart of 50 year old managers from their other companies.... avionics, petrochemicals, shipbuilding. She took it kind of personally when they threw her out of the executive penthouse without a golden parachute. She caught Hollywood cooties. No one in this town would even talk to her, let alone hire her, for fear of pissing off the new studio brass.”
“Let me guess” I smiled at Dennis. “The only one who still talked to her was....”
“More than talked... they became kind of notorious... people started calling them Thelma & Louise.” he smiled. “They were bad influences on each other. And scared the hell out of everyone in town.”
“How did Katherine know her?”
Mikey grinned wickedly. “Nina brought Katherine in for a bawdy teen holiday comedy called 'Morality Claus' where she's an evil realtor who sets out to seduce and blackmail Santa so she can steal his north pole property to sell to an oil company that wants to drill the arctic.”
“Never heard of it.” I shrugged.
Dennis sighed. “Yeah. I think the film company released it to one theater in Mississippi for a weekend to fulfill their contract and sent it straight to video.”
“I've seen it.” Mikey said with glee. “It's amazing. Almost Thornbirds amazing.” he grinned wickedly. Dennis just twitched a little smile and nodded slightly.
“I still think Katherine's character is where Elizabeth Hurley got the inspiration for her performance in that remake of Bedazzled” Mikey whispered to me.
Dennis looked at him and his mouth slowly twisted into a little smirk. “I never thought of that. But you may be right.” He smiled at Mikey.
“Anyway” Mikey continued. “The new owners HATED the movie and wanted it changed from an Oil Company to Russian mobsters or something. NiNo wouldn't budge. She let the writer and director make it the way they originally intended and the company killed it in the cradle and sent it straight to the cutout bin. Katherine was really really good in it. And Wilfred Brimley as Santa... Oh, God - the sex scene would have made Blake Edwards blush. It was hilariously awkward!”
Dennis just smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Katherine never forgot how NiNo stood up for her and everyone on the film. So when Nina Notini decided to go to war on this town, Katherine was at her side all the way. They really terrorized the industry. Nina became a pariah, and kind of built her 'outsider' status into a brand. Equal parts Orson Welles and Ed Woods. She's big on Kickstarter and signing onto projects where the backers want to rattle the status quo. She's found a niche for herself. And of course their antics just built Katherine's rep as a holy terror who knew how to steal headlines. Still, I don't think NiNo & Katherine had seen each other since the incident at that Clint Eastwood premiere.”
He leaned in to whisper. “I think you should try to blend into the crowd so she doesn't notice you.”
“You should have thought of that before you put me into this dress and these shoes!” I smiled.
I tried to slide down in my chair which just made my more-belt-than-skirt try to ride up, so I scooched back again and tried to slouch. I smiled politely and nodded to the people who kept coming to our table to schmooze and say unctuous things, all the while keeping an eye on Nina.
At some point I got distracted and when I glanced back she was gone. I anxiously scanned the room and noticed her making her way to the stage with a drink in her hand. She slipped the Karaoke guy something, I don't know if it was money or a song request, but he nodded and walked back to the band.
Yeah, this place was so posh, they did Karaoke singalongs with a live cover band! I asked Dennis about it and he said they were studio musicians who did for-hire gigs during the day and the club at night because it was a great way to network with the movers and shakers and to show off their musical chops. They were stunningly good. They were just five musicians. Four guys and one woman. But they absolutely nailed nearly every style and sounded more like the original than the original. If the piece had horns or strings, apparently the keyboard could sample it and sound just like a string or brass section. The only variable was the Karaoke singer. Nina got up and walked to the end of the stage.
“Hello tinseltown” she taunted. “Remember ME? ….I will never ..ever... forget you.... and all you did for.... to.... me.” She swaggered around the stage as if she was drunk, but something told me she wasn't. Although with her tiny size – she couldn't have been more than 5'2” and maybe 100 lbs soaking wet - I would imagine it would be pretty easy for her to get drunk. But looking into those intense eyes and those angular, vaguely hawk-like features, I knew from her face that she was in complete control of her faculties. In fact, she seemed to be in a heightened state of awareness. As if she was about to go into battle and was completely focused on the confrontation ahead.
And launched into the Dandy Warhol's 'We used to be friends'. To the acute dismay of the entire room. I found it mesmerizing.
She appeared to scan the crowd as she was singing. Momentarily making eye contact with everyone in front of the stage. Their squirming discomfort was palpable. She would occasionally shoot out her arm with pointed finger in an accusatory gesture during certain lines of the song or chorus. People in the crowd reacted as if they'd been spat on. She seemed to get individual submission from everyone watching the stage by the time she finished. You could see on her face, she WON. And while I could only see the backs of the audience, I could tell by their slumped posture, they knew it too.
Nina walked back to huddle with Karaoke guy and they went over to the band. There was a little back and forth and finally a big grin or two and the rest tentative nods. She returned to the front of the stage, inches away but feet above the crowd, and the band launched into a very familiar into. She just let them repeat the into while she took the mic, placed between her palms, clasped as if she were about to start praying, only with a microphone between her hands.
She spoke quietly. As if she was sharing an intimate moment with a single person. And I knew, each person in the crowd was certain that she was speaking directly to them.
“Tonight for your listening enjoyment..... Hell, I don't care whether you enjoy it or not..... I'd like to do a classic …..” She scanned the room and scowled. “...well, it's a classic in some circles....” She turned to glance back at the band, who were still looping the opening bars – and grinned. They grinned back conspiratorially. She turned back to the crowd, and shifting the mic to one hand which she extended out across the sea of faces she yelled, not into the mic, which was at the end of her outstretched arm. “I'd like to dedicate this to Mi Amiga. My Sancho. Might right arm … or at least my right fist.... my one time partner in crime.... or as her buds from Burning Man called her 'The Molly Queen Giant”. And she held her arm over the crowd, the mic aimed like a laser sight.
And pointed it directly at me.
She broke it off with a mischievous grin and backed up from the edge of the stage, raising the mic to her lips as the band broke into something hauntingly familiar.
I had never heard the lyrics in English, but it took me little time to place the memory. If I had any doubt, the keyboard player joining in with her Bardot-like 'whoop's left no doubt in my mind. It was Serge Gainsbourg's 'Bonnie & Clyde'. My mum was a huge Gainsbourg fan. Although my dad seemed to truly hate him and would always make horribly derogatory remarks about the French and about artists in general, and would prattle on about how no one would brag that much about what a 'ladies man' they were unless they were really an insecure pansy making up a hard to swallow cover story.
My Mum knew he wasn't a bluff. He was the real deal. And yeah, he was nothing special to look at and had a number of seeming turn offs. But he really was a very sexy guy who exuded a magnetic confidence. My Mom knew it instinctively and instantly. Apparently I did too.
Nina held the mic close and whispered the lyrics in a quiet, conspiratorial way. Making eye contact with different audience members as if she was letting them in on a secret, while she prowled the stage. Her stage presence was riveting. I could see why Katherine hung out with her. She was a force to be reckoned with. I thought to myself Serge Gainsbourg would approve of this treatment of his classic.
Even though this was a very hostile crowd, and they knew she was supposed to be an industry pariah, she got a surprisingly warm response on her powerful performance of the ode to outlaws.
The Karaoke guy got back on his mic. “OK folks. Who wants to follow that?” he goaded.
There was a little murmur in the crowd, but nothing seemed to be happening.
I think I surprised myself as much as anyone when I muttered “Oh, what the hell....” and sprang up, making a beeline for the stage.
The entire room snapped their heads around like a herd of gazelle suddenly noticing a predator on their perimeter. I felt their gaze on me. While they loathed Nina, I think they were actually afraid of Katherine.
Nina beamed as I strode to the stage. I tried to keep Katherine's stonefaced expression while giving Nina just the slightest head nod. She returned the barely perceptible nod, but I saw her eyes sparkle as I mounted the steps and whispered my request to the Karaoke guy. He nodded and went to the band while Nina watched and walked over to hand me the mic with a smile. I wrapped her fingers back around the mic and leaned into it.
“I don't want to sing. I just wanted to make a request. If you don't mind.”
She looked at me slightly puzzled, but not really bothered I didn't think. And drew her mic back. “....and if I DO mind?”
“You won't.” I leaned back into the mic, looking up into her eyes. It wasn't really a Katherine move, but then again, neither was storming the stage. I turned and nodded to the band, who had received their orders and were watching me for the go sign.
The drummer kicked it off and I stepped back making a 'you have the stage' gesture to Nina, who still seemed a little nonplussed until she glanced up at the monitor and saw the lyrics. Her uncertainty instantly was replaced with a 'shit-eating grin' as she grabbed the mic with both hands, thrust it to her lips and practically lunged at the audience just as the guitar came in and fiercely belted out Joan Jett's 'Bad Reputation'.
The audience startled and then returned her grin. She may have been a pariah and a boat-rocker, but she was owning it and the crowd couldn't help but respond.
She tore through a couple of verses and then swept her arm to the band who picked up on her cue and launched into a string of solos, each member getting their chance to show their stuff. By the grins on their faces, I knew that not many Karaoke singers took time to let the band tear it up on their own, and it was clear that Nina made at least 5 new fans that night. While the band was ripping it up, Nina bopped over to me at the side of the stage. I was trying to keep still, but the rowdy joy in the music was infectious and I was fighting a losing battle. Nina grabbed another mic from the Karaoke guy and handed it to me shouting into my ear “hell, this is at least as much your song too!”. I shook my head and gestured that it was her spotlight. She just grinned and would not take 'No' for an answer. She leaned in again to shout over the wailing band “Don't make me drag you out by your.... Is that a way too big belt or a way too small skirt?” I could tell by her impish expression that this was her usual banter with Katherine. I lowered my head slightly and she held out her hand. I took it and she bounded back into the spotlight. Well, at least she tried. I held her back like she was dragging an anchor. This had two unintended effects. The crowd really seemed to get into it, laughingly urging Nina to drag me out onto the stage, forgetting at least for the moment, how much they were all supposed to hate her. It also gave me time to have an idea, which I had talked myself into by the time she finally dragged me out to center stage. The band was wrapping up their solos, and Nina was nodding to them and turned to me.
I figured the band could keep up if I took it a slightly different direction. When they went back into the chord changes for Bad Reputation, I launched into Summertime Blues with lyric ideas I'd mostly worked out as Nina struggled to get me slowly to centerstage.
“Everybody makes a fuss and it makes me want to holler.” I gave the lyrics my best Joan Jett attempt. The band looked at each other, but I just turned to them bobbing my head and kind of nodding, hoping they'd realize we were still on the right track and counting on them figuring it out before the tunes split. Nina was just looking at me, not sure what to make of this.
“Just like everybody else, I came here to make a dollar.” I tried to do what I hoped was a rock-chick move, and the crowd seemed to buy it. I remembered how much I sucked when I tried to be Axl Rose. I should have just tried to be Joan Jett in the first place! I glanced at the band and from their expressions I was pretty sure they figured out I was on the Eddie Cochrane track.
“My agent calls me up and says 'oh, by any chance'.
This gig is really huge, but I said you sing and dance'.
One little wrong turn - I'm all over the news.
There ain't no cure for celebrity blues.”
Nina burst out laughing and nearly fell off the stage when she doubled over. The crowd seemed responsive, and I was wondering if this was helping or hurting Katherine's reputation. I kind of did a half waist stage bow like I was some weird cameo and tossed the mic back to Nina, who launched back into Bad Reputation, only now changing from first to second person and addressing the lyrics to me. She was a lot looser now and kind of pogo-ing around the stage, goofing with the band and even having a little back and forth with people in the crowd. I wondered if after tonight they'd still remember how much they were supposed to hate and shun her.
She was having so much fun, people started lining up to go on after her, when she indicated to the next person in line that she was almost done, the girl vehemently shook her head and indicated that she wanted to join Nina. So Nina waved her up and they did a little duet, when the girl soloed, Nina went back to the band and they conferred – all the while still nailing Bad reputation. When Nina returned to the front, the girl motioned to cede the stage back to her and the band flawlessly slid into “Sheena is a Punk Rocker”. The great thing about a Ramone's song, any Ramones song, is that people who have never even heard it can pick it up almost instantly. She motioned to everyone waiting in line for the stage to all come up and join in, which they did with glee. It kind of looked like some alternate universe 'We Are The World' thing with aspiring teen stars dressed to impress, jaded middle aged directors and screen writers in their baggy 'I'm too cool to care' jackets and jeans, and imperious studio suits looking like the audition line for 'Wolf of Wall Street' all bopping around the overcrowded stage like a horde of teenagers who drank too much red bull, grinning stupidly and belting out the Ramones at the top of their lungs.
The band was apparently loving it too, because I don't think anyone asked them to slide into Blitzkrieg Bop. They just did. And the party on stage just swelled.
I noticed Nina slipping quietly off the stage and discreetly making her way over to me. Her smile was warm and infectious. “Jesus, Kat. You're the LAST person I expected to see.”
“I was about to say the same to YOU.” I nodded.
“God. It feels like zero time has passed.... But hell girl, you're HUGE now!”
“It's the heels. Five inchers.” I replied in Katherine's deadpan.
Nina threw her head back and roared. “God, you know that's not what I meant!” She grinned up at me and shook her head “This town never got your sense of humor.” she beamed.
“I think it's a business liability. A keen nose is good if you make wine or perfume. Not so much in a meat packing plant.” I looked down at her, and she nodded, smiling. It was really preposterous. The two of us standing together, all Five Foot or so of her, and me with my towering scarecrow frame teetering on absurdly tall heels to make the exaggerated impression Dennis and I were going for on this high profile night on the town. There was nearly two feet height difference. It was almost cartoonish. But I had a feeling that was just one of the absurdities that Katherine and Nina appreciated about their incongruous relationship.
Nina got back to her point. “I meant you don't have to drag yourself out to places like this and work the room anymore. Hell girl, they should be coming to YOU.”
I nodded. “They are. This is just a mitzvah. I wanted to take out an assistant. The dialect coach I had on Thornbirds. He's really trying to break into the business, but his visa's up soon so this is his last chance to work the town. We're leaving for Asia in a few days, and when we swing through Australia, we just drop him home and move on.” I got distracted thinking about ending everything. Actually, I'd have to do New Zealand afterward, but then I'd be done as well. “I really wanted to give him a chance to meet some players and get his name out. He's really good.”
Nina nodded. “I know. I couldn't believe your accent in Thornbirds.”
I smiled. “Me neither. But he's got a lot more going than dialect coach. He's really bright and intuitive. He really GETS the business.”
She looked up at me and I could see the gears working behind those dark eyes. She began nodding her head. “I've seen some coverage of the press tour. You've really gotten yourself out there. I mean OUT THERE.” she grinned at me over the multiple meaning in that phrase.
I nodded. “I can honestly say that none of that... or pretty much anything since the premiere.... would have happened if not for him. Michael. His name is Michael.”
She smiled and patted my arm. “If he's a tenth as bright as you claim, and he's responsible for any of the things that happened to your career over the last few months, I'm sure he'll be back soon. To stay.”
I nodded. “I hope so. I owe him that. So you know why I'm here. But what brings you to unctuous junction?”
She looked up at me and grinned. “Have I mentioned how much I missed you?” Then her face got all business. “I'm meeting a money guy. Some foreign investor. Wants me to introduce him around town. He's obviously foreign or he'd know how I'm the last person he'd want introducing him around town. Either that or no one else would take him. I guess he wants to be the next Menachem Golan or Ilya Salkind. ...or maybe he just wants to starfuck.”
“If that's all he wants to do, I can save him some money and introduce him to some really amazing Katherine Keller impersonators. I think I met most of them on this press tour.”
She threw her head back and actually whooped. “Oh my God. You're incorrigible! God. I wonder if there are any impersonators for studio heads or directors?” She was laughing hard and struggling to get it under control. “Oh, God. It's been so great to catch up.” she glanced at her watch. “He should be getting here shortly. I better go. Hey, maybe after.... how long are you here?”
I shrugged. “No solid plan. I'm leaving that up to Michael. When he feels he's done what he can for the night, we'll go.”
“Um. OK. Well, if you're still here after my guy.....”
I shrugged. “We'll see.”
“If not, then I guess when you get back from Asia.... we have so much to catch up on!”
I smiled politely. Actually I pasted on Katherine's businesslike 'polite smile' which should really be called 'subliminal non-scowl'. It seemed to satisfy Nina, who did a little finger wave and waded back into the crowd.
There was still a large throng of people between the stage and our table and everyone apparently wanted to schmooze, so I tried to detour my way back around the bar. Apparently I lingered too long trying to find the least crowded route back to my table.
“Evening Ms Keller.” the overly attentive bartender chirped. “Long time no see. The usual?”
I had no idea what 'the usual' was. One way to find out.
“Thanks. …..Jeremy”
The moment I addressed him by name, he puffed up and snapped to. Dashing back to prepare Katherine's 'usual'. I wondered why simply addressing him by name seemed to electrify him. Isn't that why he wore a name badge?
I was trying to keep a low profile and not attract too many ….well wishers. NOT easy to do in this outfit, I chided myself.
“Clearly you were destined for stardom. That's why nature put you so close to the heavens.”
I turned to stare. I have no idea what expression I must have had on my face because so many reactions were going through me simultaneously. None of them terribly positive. My overwhelming urge was to laugh, but I strongly sensed that that would not be a Katherine reaction. So I opted for a scornful stare.
“Does that line ever work?” I asked with incredulity.
The guy, 6'4” or so with jet black hair that was rakishly just a little too long, a build like a power rower subtly hinted at by the drape of his obviously expensive bespoke suit, looked to be in his late 30s or very early 40s. He betrayed no sign whatsoever of embarrassment at his jaw droppingly cheesy pickup line. He shrugged slightly. His smile remaining implacable.
“I wouldn't know. I have never met a statuesque beauty like you before, so this is the first opportunity I have had to utter such a thing.”
I couldn't restrain my grin. “Alright, you're obviously NOT a writer! ...And I sense professional gigalo is also a no.... unless you're a late blooming apprentice.”
He just stood and smiled. “Slag all you want. We are talking. I have achieved my goal.”
“You might want to aim a little higher” I smiled.
“I do not think that would be possible.” he smiled back.
He reminded me of a parody of that 'World's Most Interesting Man' beer ad. Which, since that was parody itself, made him just doubly absurd. Yet somehow fascinating. How could someone be so lame yet so charmingly confident?
“Well, that's just because of the heels. I'm not even allowed to walk under certain overpasses in these shoes.” I deadpanned.
He didn't react at all. He just stood there like a pod person with the same pleasant smile on his face.
“Allow me.” he made a chivalrous motion with his arm. “What may I get for you?”
“When gentlemen like you supply my drink, it's usually a Cosbo.”
“Ah. Of course” he nodded. “A cosmopolitan.”
“No,” I shook my head and smiled. “When gentlemen ...like you... supply my drink, it's usually a CosBO.”
“I am unfamiliar with that.” The smile remained plastered on his face, though his eyes showed uncertainty and his brow furrowed almost subliminally. “I am not familiar with this... Cosbo. What does it contain?”
“Vodka. Triple Sec. Lime. Cranberry. Rohypnol.....”
His brow now noticeably furrowed. His permasmile betrayed traces of a scowl. Then he quickly morphed back into Stepford Ken again.
“Ah. You make the joke.” he said with polite detachment.
That was an odd reaction. This guy really was ...rather alien. ….said the Australian lad passing himself off as an American supermodel being chatted up at the bar. I mentally slapped myself and vowed to cut this guy some slack.
I nodded with Katherine's straight-lipped smile. “And I've already ordered thank you”
And on cue, Jeremy came with my glass.
“And when you order for yourself, what do you drink?” He asked diplomatically.
Oh God. I had NO idea. I thought that maybe if I took a sip, it would be obvious what it was.
It was not. The only thing I learned was that it was STRONG. It was like rocket fuel flavored licorice. Or vice-versa, Jeremy was still at the bar, apparently waiting for me to approve of my drink. I took another sip – which wasn't quite so bad this time since I was braced for it – and while I seemed to be drinking, I motioned for Jeremy to answer the man's question.
“A&A” He said succinctly. Stepford Ken just stared. “Absinthe and Avitae”
Really? I thought to myself. Is Katherine some kind of closet goth? And isn't Avitae just caffeinated water? Katherine DID have singular tastes. I would have to ask Dennis about this later.
“Ah.” he said nodding and clearly having no clue what he was pretending to comprehend. “I have never had that. I know of absinthe, while I have yet to try it.... but Avitae? ….is it like Akvavit?”
“Not at all.” I smiled politely and nodded. I was beginning to enjoy being cryptic and paradoxical and toying with this guy.
He shot me a perplexed look for an instant, then shrugged it off and returned to the permasmile.
“Well, I am intrigued.” He turned to the ever attentive Jeremy who was either waiting to be dismissed or just enjoying watching this surreal flirting ritual. “I will have what she's having.”
I slapped the bar and said to Jeremy “One Meg Ryan for the gentleman!”
Jeremy grinned wickedly and turned away to prepare the drink. As I expected, Stepford Ken did not get the reference.
“I take it you're not from around here.” I said dryly.
“You are correct.” I expected him to snap his heels like a German valet, but he merely bowed slightly. “Permit me to introduce myself. I am Costas Mavrikis. I am here on business.”
“Movie business?”
“That remains to be seen. But it is hoped.”
“Well, you've come to the right place hon. Because this is the place where most of the business in this town ….goes down.” I left it to him to take that any way he chose, but I suspect it went right past him. While his English was flawless and his accent was rather generic and like a language tape, I got the feeling that much of the nuance of the language eluded him completely.
“Enjoy your Meg Ryan” I flashed a tight lipped grin. “I have people waiting at my table and they're about to send a search party.” I flashed a finger-wave over my shoulder and quickly headed off to the safe haven of my table.
Dennis stood as I approached our table.
“Damn, girl” he smiled “I thought we were going to have to send out a search party”
I smiled to myself. We knew each other so well.
“It was crowded by the stage, so I took a detour... around the back bar.”
Dennis' eyebrow raised “Is that A&A?” He shot me an inscrutable stare. “How on earth...”
“One of the bartenders saw me passing and asked if I wanted 'the usual'...” I shrugged.
Dennis nodded. Apparently Katherine's 'usual' was a state secret to everyone but the bar staff.
I leaned in to Dennis and lowered my voice “Can I ask you... WHY Absinthe and Avitae? It doesn't really seem like a Katherine drink. ...or an anybody drink.”
Dennis broke into a mischievous grin, dipped his fingers into his own daiquiri, and flicked them at me.
I was startled and at a bit of a loss just HOW to react when I noticed a drop or two had landed in Katherine's drink, which immediately began to cloud up.
“Slip pretty much anything into THAT” he said grinning at my drink “and that happens.”
I nodded, smiling. Katherine was wily. And wary.
I sipped the now cloudy drink, not worrying too much about Dennis' cooties, which seemed to please him immeasurably. Despite the change in appearance, it still tasted exactly like high octane cough medicine.
Dennis played the part of the gracious host, introducing everyone to Michael, while I played the aloof starlet, acting polite yet distant, since I actually didn't know who any of these people were. No one seemed surprised, so I guessed this was standard with Katherine – who I recalled, didn't even seem to know the names of her own house staff.
Everyone chatted amiably and Mikey got to do most of the talking, which mostly consisted of complimenting our guests on their accomplishments and nearly reciting their CVs. I think they remembered him because he seemed so impressed with – and knowledgeable of – them. He made some comments and observations which seemed astute and very welcomed by the industry insiders. I think they were forming a very positive impression of this very industry-savvy Australian lad.
Eventually the crowd trickled out and Dennis decided it was time for he and Mikey to work the room. He asked if I was OK being left alone at the table and gave me a gentle shoulder slap as they left, mouthing 'behave!' with a smile.
I was doing fine on my own. Casually sipping my third ...or was it fourth?... A&A. I had gotten used to the taste and found each less unpleasant than the one before. I sat back, just people watching... observing the give and take of the club. All of the negotiations and transactions – business and otherwise. And I began to wonder just how much of a line there was between the two. Then something slowly began to dawn on me.
I really had to pee.
I reached over to finish the last sip of my A&A - I knew better than to leave a drink behind in a shark tank like this – only to find a full glass, and a smiling Stepford Ken.
“I noticed you were nearly empty, so took the liberty of ordering you another Meg Ryan” he smiled.
I smiled back, principally because it was clear no one had let him in on my little joke.
“That was very gracious of you....”
“Costas” he reminded me as if I'd forgotten.
“Yes. Mav... mavro...”
“Mavrikis” he smiled with the reflexive bow.
“Mavrikis.” I repeated. “Well, as I was saying, it was very gracious of you, but I was just about to...”
“Please. Talk with me for at least a moment. It would be terribly rude to leave without even finishing your drink”
I glanced at it. Not cloudy. Probably safe. Thank you Katherine for your paranoid genius. I took the glass, returned his placid smile, and tossed it back like a coal miner with a shotglass.
I finally got a genuine expression out of him. It was a mixture of shock, dismay and disappointment.
I grabbed his hand and leaned in. I think he was expecting at least a cheek kiss, but I just whispered in his ear “I really need to pee!”
My candor ruffled his diplomatic demeanour, which made the awkward confession worth it. I quickly rose and suddenly was aware how tall the heels ...and my spindly legs really were. I wobbled like a bamboo tree and instantly he was at my side. Left arm around my waist and right arm cradling my crooked right elbow, steadying me like a guy wire.
I looked down at him with relief and gratitude. I wasn't planning to make another Katherine scene, toppling like a redwood amid the industry elite.
The guy was discreet. He appeared to be holding me familiarly but not intimately as we made our way through the crowd toward the restrooms.
“You are a gentleman sir.” I said. A little more ...blurrily... than I intended.
“And you remain a goddess.” he replied turning the unctiously hokey charm back on.
I laughed. I know Katherine is not a laugher, but I was struck by the absurdity of it all and could not hold back. “Ha! If I have any supernatural tendencies... which I'm not claiming” I held up my finger and wobbled a little more until stayed by his strong arm around my waist, “any tendencies would tend to be... more... demonic”. I flashed him a crooked grin.
He smiled politely. Again.
“You never did mention... what is a straight arrow like you doing in a den of iniquity like this?”
He frowned slightly. “I am meeting people. I thought I told you. I am thinking of perhaps becoming involved in the film industry.”
I nodded blankly. If he had mentioned it, I didn't remember. Then again I was finding it harder to remember much of anything ...or care.
“I had hoped meeting in a place like this, in addition to meeting many powerful executives and financiers, I might also brush shoulders with the celebrity or two."
I grinned and leaned down rubbing my shoulder into his.
He grinned back. “This much I had not even dreamed of. I have been a big fan for many years. Before your film career even. I had your Victoria's Secret...”
“Of course. You had that poster in...”
“Not poster. I commissioned a reprint from Armando Ciregna. Life sized.”
I jerked my head back. “Life size? God, that wingspan was.... how BIG is your bedroom?”
He shook his head “Not my bedroom. My office.”
“God, you must have the coolest boss ever! ...or you work in... wait a minute, what DO you do?”
He smiled. Genuinely this time. “Commodities. Precious metals mostly. And yes I believe I do have 'the coolest boss ever'” he grinned making air quotes. “He is my father.”
“Ahhh.” I nodded knowingly, although I didn't really know what I was pretending to know, except that this indulgent dad let his rich kid son put up a life sized soft porn photo in his office. “Precious metals?” I asked, more to just make conversation.
He shrugged. “Rhodium, Palladium, Osmium.... the usual Platinum and Gold.... Lucrative but not terribly exciting. Not like the movie industry!”
To my own surprise I reached down, pushed his nose like a button and gleefully cackled “Costas Mavrikis – The Golden Greek! THAT's what I'm calling you!”
He winced.
“What? You'd prefer 'The Wizard of Osmium?” I sneered.
That evoked a genuine smile and a sigh. “Golden Greek is not so bad.”
“So, you're going to throw all your family's money away on these showbiz swindlers?” I teased.
He shrugged and looked up at me. The Stepford Ken facade was beginning to melt. Or maybe I was just feeling all those drinks. “It's far from ALL my family's money. Just a small discretionary portion of my share. We have been doing what we do for a long time. A long long time. We could probably afford to make our own film industry.”
“Hellenicwood?” I grinned.
He smiled back. “You might think. But no. I was born in the Netherlands, but I am a Swiss national. Although my official principal residence is Luxembourg.”
My head was beginning to spin. I just stared blankly.
He shrugged. “It's complicated. Taxes, liability, many intertwined business reasons. I am from many places, yet nowhere in particular. I consider myself a citizen of the world.”
I snapped my fingers. “THAT's who you remind me of!”
He looked back quizzically and perhaps expectantly.
“Michael Rennie!”
No reaction.
“Klaatu?”
I saw the slow recognition in his eyes, then a slight nod and a grin. Yup. He's a film fan.
“And would that make you my Gort?”
“In these heels? Maybe.” Then I couldn't restrain my wicked grin “But I'm MUCH more dangerous.”
Oh my God! What was I doing? Was I flirting with Stepford Ken? I had to stop. I had to focus on something else. Oh, yeah. I really, really really had to pee. I was beginning to think my bladder was as inappropriately small as my skirt.
“God. LOOK at this line!” I muttered, noticing for the first time that while we had been chatting, the Golden Greek had deftly manoeuvred me into the line for the ladies lounge.
“There is always a line, no?” he said sympathetically.
“Not for me. Not except this place, this crowd.” I scowled. I was really beginning to appreciate Katherine's queue jumping clout, now that it was rendered useless among her peers.
I started doing that side to side subtle weight shift 'gotta go!' dance as I stood in line. I didn't think anyone noticed, but since he was still more or less holding me up, the Golden Greek caught it right away.
“Will you be alright if I leave you for a moment?”
I nodded, certain that he didn't want to be present when I wet myself in line. He slowly brought me closer to a wall I could prop myself against and gingerly let go. When I didn't topple, he nodded and dashed off.
I was becoming alarmed that I might fall on my face when the line moved forward and I had to leave the safety of my wall, but it was a very slow line and before I had to find out, the Golden Greek returned .
“Come with me.” he said quietly and scooped me from the line.
“That was a major mistake unless you found a fire exit to the alley or a tureen in the kitchen.”
“Better!” he grinned and steered me toward the mens lounge.
I dug my heels in like stop-sticks. “Whoa! What are....”
“I checked. It's empty.”
“It was when you checked”
He just kept smiling and led me through the S corridor until we reached the inner doorway where an imposing gentleman stood. I presumed he was some VIP's security minion sublet for a quick and lucrative detail. Costas slipped something into his pocket and he nodded, making his way to stand imposingly in the outer doorway. Apparently VIPs taking over the mens room for private business ..or whatever.. was standard practice here. The ladies seemed to have no such arrangement.
The Golden Greek walked me to a stall and let go of me, I was able to manoeuvre myself in, and was finally grateful for the miniscule skirt. It made things much easier in my ...slightly fuzzy... state.
I took care of business and may have actually moaned a little from the relief, which I'd rather not think about. I tidied things up, composed myself and teetered to the sink, washing my hands and reflexively freshening up my makeup. Then I noticed the urinals in the mirror and recalled where I was. And my eyes slid over to see The Golden Greek leaning against a wall, watching me like a hawk, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.
“Better?” His grin was rakish.
I nodded. Time to get back the pokerface.
“Your merit badge for chivalry is in the post. You sir, have saved a lady in serious distress.”
I returned my focus on touching up my makeup when suddenly his face was regarding mine in the mirror, his chin rested on my left shoulder as his arms wrapped around my middle from behind.
“Um...” I eloquently said as he nuzzled in to my neck and gave it a gentle bite.
I was trying to come up with something more articulate than 'um' but my speech center was completely frozen. The rest of my brain however was overwhelmed by an avalanche of overpowering emotions. Shock. Excitement. Panic. Fear. ….Lust? I wasn't sure. I just knew that what ever it was, the desire was really strong, really hard to resist. And I didn't want to resist. I wanted to surrender. To dive right into the heart of whatever this new overpowering sensation was and see where it took me.
But the rest of my brain, the rational part, was screaming red-alerts. This could not go anywhere good. This had to be shut down instantly, like an out of control reactor.
After he nibbled my ear lobe from behind, which sent an involuntary shudder through my whole body, causing me to falter slightly, which I hoped he would think was drink-induced unsteadiness, Costas spun me around and pressed me against the sink counter.
His right hand cradled the back of my neck, strong fingers gently reaching up to the base of my skull, while his left hand slid deftly from the small of my back to cup my bottom. He pulled me against him as his face came in for an insistent, but surprisingly gentle and tentative kiss. His lips gently brushed mine, and only when they met no resistance, did they plunge deeply into mine.
Oh. My. God.
I knew Eoin's lips were always clenched tightly as he would dutifully return my 'Hollywood kiss' on our various public displays of affection. I knew those weren't real kisses, but never in my wildest imaginings had I ever expected something like this. I was returning his passion with my own while my brain was screaming at me to shut it down.
I felt his hardness pressing into me and while part of me knew I HAD to shut it down, I had tumbled so far I wasn't sure if I could.
A loud cough from outside the entrance way jarred us from our mindless passion. In a moment of clarity, I realized I was semi-sitting on the sink counter, legs wrapped around Costas, who seemed to be fumbling trying to get under my too-tight skirt to get at my thong.
We both startled and came up for air. Costas barked 'One moment!' as I drew a deep sharp breath. Had I become so swept away that I even stopped breathing? This was the spanner in the works that my brain needed to regain control. The briefest moment of clarity. But enough – just enough – for my rational mind to regain control and realize with a shudder just how close I had come to disaster.
My power of speech had returned just enough for me to utter “Not here. Not now.” but the voice was strange. A low, husky whisper that sounded more like an invitation than a refusal.
I think Costas caught the mixed signals and knew which ones he wanted to heed. He leaned back in, but by then my rational mind was swiftly reasserting control, while chiding me 'stupid stupid STUPID girl!'.
The burst of adrenaline cut instantly through the fog of alcohol and my composure returned quickly. I pushed him away and spun back to the mirror.
I was a MESS. I repaired my makeup and brushed my hair quickly and think I had regained my in-control demeanor as I twined my arm into his and whispered assertively “let's get out of here.”
His eyes lit up for a moment as he thought I was propositioning him, then quickly dimmed as he realized that I just wanted to get us the hell out of the men's restroom.
The crowd was subtle, I had to give them that. There was a clear understanding that they had, at times, been on the other side of the scene they were witnessing, so the stares and smirks were subdued, and some of the eyes even showed some empathy. Still, no one missed it as we made our way down the corridor from the restrooms. Even as we made our way back into the club we were getting stares. It was clear they knew, but I couldn't see how. I thought I had repaired the damage and looked no worse for wear, and then I realized that the Golden Greek was looking smugly ….disheveled.
I tried to run my fingers through his hair and bring things back into some semblance of order. Fortunately it was an exquisite cut and pretty much fell back into place. I steered us past an empty table with an abandoned drink and cocktail napkin, which I quickly dipped and daubed the lipstick off of his face. It was terribly forward and probably extremely rude, but he didn't seem to mind. He just smiled slightly as I rubbed the smeared lipstick from his face.
He didn't mind, but I felt a growing burn of resentment that not only did I have to get myself back together, but it seemed my job to clean up his damage too. He was all too happy to wander through the club, mussed up hair, lipstick smeared face, grinning stupidly to anyone who would look at him. Why did I have to cobble his appearance back together? I thought to myself 'It will be one thing when I have my own little ones, but he's a grown man for chrissakes!'
And I stopped cold.
Costas lurched as I suddenly stood rock still in the middle of the club. We were both startled. For utterly different reasons. I quickly shook myself out of it and resumed our walk back to my table. Fortunately that unexpected thought-bomb completely derailed any lingering notions of desire, and I was fully back in control by the time we got to my table.
Where a grinning Dennis and Mikey stood to greet us. Oh, crap. There's NO WAY they could know. Sure, Costas was making no effort to hide it with his blissful grin, but I was fully back in control and confident that I was betraying nothing. Besides, they both knew me.... I mean knew ME... and it would be inconceivable for them to jump to such a preposterous conclusion – however true it may actually be.
“Oh, wow. You two have MET!” Mikey beamed.
I just looked at Costas, who grinned at me with big eyes.
Dennis glanced at the two of us, and I don't know how he read the situation, but whatever he was thinking, it worked for me. He addressed me directly.
“Michael and I had met Mr Mavrikis earlier.”
“NiNo introduced us!” Mikey chirped in.
Dennis nodded. “He's in town meeting people, networking and prospecting for projects....”
“So we pitched him 'The Sitter'. ...and he's interested” Mikey gushed.
“The Sitter.” I replied deadpan. I had no idea what they were talking about, but it was obvious that they had let Costas think I was in on whatever they were talking about. I would scold them privately later, but for now I just tried to play along.
“He thought the treatment had potential, but had understandable reservations.” Dennis explained. “...since it IS a distinctively Katherine Keller vehicle....” he squirmed slightly, I could see in his eyes how uncomfortable he felt blindsiding me like this, but it seemed unavoidable, so I shot him a reassuring glance. “....and he had never actually MET Katherine Keller....”
“Now he HAS!” Mikey exclaimed cheerfully. He seemed utterly oblivious that Costas hadn't met Katherine.... he had met ME... Mikey also seemed unfazed at how he had ambushed and cornered me. A sardonic voice in my head said 'yeah, you'll go far in this town, kid.' I let it go. He was my cousin, my partner in adventure, and I knew he wasn't being callous, he was just overtaken by enthusiasm.
“So how DID you two meet?” Dennis asked with a raised eyebrow and the slight trace of a smile.
Costas took a breath and raised his finger to speak, but I cut him off.
“Cute.” I replied deadpan.
He nodded, again with the stupid grin.
Mikey was about to say something, so once again I piped in, looking squarely at Dennis in my best Katherine Keller pokerface. “That IS the Hollywood way to do it, no? Don't just meet. Meet cute.”
He nodded, the tight lipped grin still on his face. But his eyes were absolutely sparkling.
I waved a hand dismissively. “I'll tell you later.” Then I glanced at Costas who was still beaming at me like a smitten child. I turned my attention back to Dennis and Mikey. “....or not...” I muttered, and caught Dennis' mouth twitch into a smile before he tamped it back down.
“So... now you two have met....” Mikey addressed the Golden Greek “...what do you think?”
Dennis and I exchanged glances. Mikey was having an entirely different conversation and had no idea.
Costas nodded. “I am intrigued.” he said in his slick diplomat delivery. Mental note, never play poker with this guy either. He turned and looked at me. His expression was coldly appraising. He had totally gotten his business demeanor back. I returned his gaze. He knew, I could tell, how impressed I was at his ability to switch into business face so quickly and thoroughly.
“I definitely want to explore things further.” he said blandly, addressing Mikey and Dennis, while his eyes locked with mine. “I am …..quite taken with the.... possibilities. I very much look forward to the ….potential.... of a close collaboration.”
Mikey was over the moon. The look I got from Dennis was impossible to read. He knew there was another conversation going on here, but didn't seem to know what to make of it. I was sure I would be grilled thoroughly at some point in the near future. Actually, I was looking forward to it. I had to talk to someone and I couldn't imagine anyone other than Dennis to confide in.
“Well, aspirations are all well and good, but we're off to Asia in a few days and we'll be gone for weeks. We'll see how you feel about everything then.” I smiled at him. “Once the blood has had an opportunity to return to your brain.”
Dennis shot me a look. Mikey remained oblivious.
The Golden Greek nodded, unfazed. “I look forward to our next meeting... and picking up where we left off.”
I smiled coyly. I knew he would be meeting with Katherine after the Asian trip. And I knew he would have absolutely no idea what hit him.
With that and other banal platitudes, he withdrew to find Nina and continue his plans to take over Hollywood. I turned to Dennis and Mikey.
“Anyone else to amaze and dazzle or are we ready to call it a night?”
Dennis exchanged a look with Mikey who shook his head, then he glanced at his watch.
“I think we'd better call it a morning. It's all good. Soon we'll be skipping so many timezones, it will be best that we have no sleep patterns to disrupt!” He forced a grin. I knew he was ready to head home and so was I. Mikey wanted to linger, but he had already networked with the entire place, so even he was forced to concede that our night of networking at Tritium was done.
“So, is it safe to say 'Mission Accomplished' on our evening?” I asked them. Mikey and Dennis nodded happily.
“So we can go home now? I'm unsteady enough in these heels. Between the drink and fatigue, I may topple like a redwood at any moment.”
They both smiled happily and Dennis texted for our car. Once again my two guys and I locked arms – only this time it was to steady me. And we made an exit as head turning as our entrance, as we headed for the limo to our hotel.
Mikey was quiet and somewhat sullen as we walked outside to wait for our limo. I squeezed him into a close hug.
“I know you think this is the end. It's just the end of your coming out. Your introduction. You made impressions in there. So when you come back in act two, the players will recognize you as one of their own.”
Mikey looked up at me. “Do you really believe that?”
I nodded to him and turned to Dennis, who also nodded.
“I'm family, so I'm biased. ...AND... I'm here only because you let me be your plus one on your contest prize.”
Mikey barked a laugh and shook his head.
“But DENNIS... Dennis owes you nothing. He's not beholden in any way. In fact, he probably has a lot of good reasons to wish you ...WE... weren't here and life with Katherine was going on as usual....”
Dennis shot me a look I could not read. I just plowed forward.
“Dennis. In all honesty... Do you think my cousin Michael will be back in this town... on his own... as a player?” It was a gamble, but I was quite sure of his answer.
He nodded. “No spin. No schmooze. We've spent a lot of time together. You GET it. You will go as far as you want to. ….and pitching 'The Sitter' to that foreign guy? I wouldn't have had the cheek to do it... but you did... and I think it worked... he wants in. You ARE a player.”
Mikey blushed and nodded, bashfully accepting the compliment.
“Yeah. About that....” I interjected.
“....what the hell IS this ….'project'... you pitched him?”
Mikey and Dennis looked at each other. I sensed some embarrassment on both sides.
“Uh.... your cousin had an idea for a Katherine Keller project.... but it was really a YOU project....”
“Until I brainstormed with Dennis....” Mikey cut in. “He helped me fine tune it so that it would actually BE a genuine Katherine Keller project... playing to her strengths.”
“....skirting around her limitations...” Dennis cut in with raised finger.
“Well.... it's a project either of you could do.... and it just... works.....” Mikey smiled bashfully.
Dennis cut in again. I don't know if they planned the pitch this way or they just read each other and knew when to interject, but it was an effective tag-team pitch. “A scientist for a supersecret government agency – think Alan Cummings – is tasked to create a robot assassin ...maybe his boss is an obsessive 'Terminator' fan.... anyway, what he creates is a benign looking android... one that does NOT look like an assassin....”
“...one that looks like YOU.” Mikey beamed.
“one that looks like the girl next door...” Dennis smiled. “Only his narrow minded idiot bosses don't think she looks lethal enough...”
“...idiots...” Mikey nodded.
“SO they kill the project and fire the scientist. ….who cleans out his lab and takes all his stuff... including his prototype android....”
“...which his idiot bosses didn't want...” Mikey cut in with raised finger.
I smiled, noticing that they had lapsed back into their pitch and hadn't yet realized it.
“SO... the scientist is home. Unemployed. Back with his kids. ...did we mention that he's a widower?.... raising his kids as a single dad with a demanding job...”
Dennis cut back in “SO... to handle the household duties he reprograms”
“....additionally programs...” Mikey interrupted. Dennis nodded.
“ADDITIONALY programs... his android assassin as a kind of an....
“Au Pair” Mikey cut in. Dennis nodded.
“Since he designed her with sophisticated A.I. To adapt in the field, she also adapts interacting with the kids and forms a bond."
“A band?' I interrupted.
“No. A bond!” Mikey grimaced. Then he shot Dennis a look, his face brightening “....although... a band does open intriguing possibilities and soundtrack opportunities....”
I clapped my hands twice sharply. “Focus! They form a BOND......”
“So, when a rogue underling pitches the brass a project they WILL greeenlight.... an unimaginative alternative with a Dolph Lundgren – Ivan Drago looking assassin that will raise all sorts of alarm bells and not even get close to their target, the brass enthusiastically embraces the shortsighted vision. The minion realizes that in order to take all the credit, he must eliminate the original at its source. So he sends his macho killbot to take out the scientist and his family.”
“Only the original prototype … let's just call her Katherine-bot.... foils the attempt and the scientist flees... hoping to draw the Dolphbot to his trail... and away from his family. He leaves his – Katherine-bot behind to protect his family”
“Only the original prototype... the Katherine-bot... actually bonds with the family, since the original scientist never designed an off switch for the learning mode. She becomes as possessive and protective of the kids as a real mother.... only with killer robot reflexes.”
“They embark on a quest – kids in tow – to find and neutralize the Dolphbot, rescue dad and expose his minion's evil plan to his bosses.”
Mikey and Dennis were both beaming at me expectantly. I think the first people they sold this pitch to was themselves, and they were liking it more every time they re-pitched it.
I cocked an eyebrow and stared at them for about 30 seconds. They continued beaming. “So it's a comedy?” I said wryly.
“More than you would think!” Dennis replied, unruffled.
“Actually it's kind of got a Honey I Shrunk the Kids family movie feel to it.” Mikey piped it.
“Only it's Honey I left a killer robot to mind the kids while I run for my life from a Terminator...” I deadpanned.
“It really IS a PG rated concept.” Dennis interjected. “Sure, it sounds intense from the pitch, but this isn't dark and ominous. It's more Inspector Gadget/Dexter's Lab type kid friendly sci-fi.”
“A kid friendly robot assassin?” I cocked my head querulously at Dennis.
He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Oh, please child.... Cameron already did that in Terminator 2.”
“Katherine has never done a family film before. This could open a new franchise for her.” Mikey added.
I sighed. “It looks like you have your elevator pitch down cold. The idea seems to ….borrow.... from a whole bunch of previously successful films.... but not quite enough from any particular one to get seriously sued over....” I shrugged. “Yeah. I think you have a workable pitch. Someone will probably pick it up. ….Or rip it off.”
Dennis nodded. “THAT's why we designed it as a Katherine Keller vehicle. The idea just doesn't work without Katherine's ….chemistry.”
I had to nod in agreement. She could do this part in her sleep. And the Golden Greek really did seem interested in producing it. I had a strong confidence that this night had payed off for Dennis and my cousin, to whom I owed so much. And to Katherine when she returned to her life, which I hoped I wasn't making too much of a shambles.
It was a great relief to get 'home' to Katherine's suite at the hotel.... and to shimmy out of the skimpy outfit. It wasn't just short. It was small. As I peeled it off, I recalled those foam mattresses where this tight, tiny roll expands to full size once the binding shrink wrap is removed. I wondered if part of my ...fuzziness... wasn't just the alcohol but the fact that the top was so tight that I wasn't able to get more than a tiny swallow of air into my lungs at any one time. It felt SO good to stand in my lingerie and just relax... luxuriating in the first deep satisfying breath of the night.
I caught my preposterous reflection in the mirror. Standing in thong and bandeau, still in those ridiculous heels. I chuckled to myself. Armando Ciregna could have sold this shot to the Golden Greek to plaster on his office wall – or bedroom ceiling.
I sat and pried off the steep ankle wrap sandals. I had pretty much lost all sensation after about the first hour. As I massaged my feet and the feeling returned like circulation to an extremity that 'fell asleep' I realized how much I had tortured my poor tootsies. As the nerves reawoke, they signaled their distress loudly and my feet cramped badly, curling up in protest. I continued to patiently knead the muscles until they relaxed into a mere dull throb that spread up my calves and hamstrings.
I grinned at the realization that after an entire evening in these 'cruel shoes'. I would be walking funny for days. Then I blanched slightly at the thought of encountering one of the industry players who had witnessed me and the disheveled Costas emerging from our private tryst in the mens lavatory and trying to explain my ...odd gait.
I wanted to take out a full page ad in the next day's Variety proclaiming “It was just the shoes!” but I knew it was already hopeless. I just needed to keep a low profile until my feet and calves recovered and I could walk normally again. I suddenly felt great empathy for Katherine and wondered how much of her 'bad reputation' was earned and how much was just unfortunate coincidence intersecting with dirty minds.
I was so exhausted, I staggered to the bathroom, sleepwalked through the nightly ritual of removing my makeup, applying the nightly regimen, having a quick pee – fully appreciating the lack of a line, and made my way to the bed like a zombie... collapsing on top of the covers in just my underwear.
I expected to sleep like the dead, so I was surprised when I roused a few hours later. I don't know how long I slept, but it was still dark. And really really quiet. I was restless. I slid out of bed and grabbed a robe. I slid open the glass door to the balcony and drank in the intoxicating aroma of lilac and lavender on the warm breeze. Looking over the city, it seemed like not another soul was awake. I had a sudden impulse and it made me laugh quietly to myself. It was a terrible idea. But somehow it seemed like the sort of thing Katherine would do, and that was all I needed to give myself permission.
I crept quietly through the suite, cringing when my robe would brush against anything that might awaken Dennis or Mikey in their rooms. I slowly opened the door, somehow afraid it would creak. As if something like that would happen in a suite as extravagant as this. I managed to get into the outside corridor without anyone noticing. I glanced in both directions. Of course no one was around. The suite took up a large part of this floor and their were few if any other guests on this level. Still, I was preoccupied with the need for stealth, Maybe the sneaking around made it more ….exciting.
I snuck down the hall and was about to press the button for the lift when I imagined the door opening to a car filled with guests – or worse, papparazzi. I glanced around and spotted the door to the stairwell. I first feared that it was an alarmed fire exit, but it was just an ordinary door to the stairs. I slipped through it and pressed my back against the wall, halting my rapid breathing for a moment to listen for anyone else in the stairwell. All I could hear was my own pounding heart. So I resumed my breathing and crept up the stairs like a cat burglar.
As I had hoped, the roof door was not locked. I pushed on the door bar and stepped outside into the warm night air. The stars twinkled above and the lights of the city below. And although only a smattering of nightlights glowed dimly by the cabana bar, they reflected dreamily off the still water of the closed rooftop pool.
I really don't know what put the idea in my head in the first place. It was so unlike me. Maybe it was more like Katherine. Maybe I really was channeling her. I didn't know or really care. All I knew was how right this felt. I shrugged the robe off, letting it flutter to the ground and wiggled out of the bandeau as I sauntered toward the pool. A slight tug was all it took to coax the thong to gently slip down to my ankles, where I deftly stepped out of it as my toes neared the water's edge.
I drank in the stars, shuddered excitedly as I felt the warm breeze graze my naked body perched at the edge of the pool. I took in a deep, full breath and arrowed into the pool with a quiet 'plurp'.
The water was like bathwater and as exquisite as I could imagine. I popped my head above the surface, noticing the tiny ripples my near-surgical incision left on the water. I took another deep breath and plunged down.
I felt like a mermaid, effortlessly spanning the length of the pool underwater, curling up to the far wall and breaking the surface to grab another exhilarated breath. I let out a joyful little laugh. This was so wrong. Breaking into the closed pool. Grabbing an early morning swim. An early morning naked swim! People would be aghast. Well, at least the hotel and health department would be appalled. Not that there was that much difference between the skimpy swimsuits Katherine routinely wore and the ...birthday suit I chose to wear on this naughty escapade.
I glanced at the horizon, a sudden burst of adrenaline jolted me as I wondered if the sun was about to come up and I would be exposed. No sign of impending dawn. I once again relaxed, breathing slowly and deeply. Preparing to pop back below the surface and make the return circuit.
I took my time, savoring the sensations. I was not at all winded, and I was determined to wring every blissful moment from this leisurely sensuous swim.
By the time I reached the other end, I was about ready to end my languid swim. I relaxed and let my body simply float to the surface, rolling onto my back when I broke the surface and drinking in the fragrant night air. I was dreamily staring up at the stars, eyes unfocused, when I caught something in my peripheral vision.
I spun around quickly to see the two muscular legs standing at the edge of the pool, and my eyes followed them up as my body pressed hard against the pool wall, trying to minimize the exposure of my nakedness.
My eyes took their sweet time following the sturdy legs up to the trim torso, brick wall abs and full muscular chest, standing arms akimbo and staring down at me as I tried to melt into the pool wall.
He was pretty much a silhouette against the night sky. I couldn't make out much, but I could see that he was staring down at me, grinning.
“The pool is closed.” he said. I sensed humour rather than authority in his vaguely familiar voice. “There is no lifeguard on duty, and unattended swimming is not permitted.” as his silhouette pointed to a sign that stated as much.
I just looked up at him, still rather gobsmacked, blinking water out of my eyes. I think I was too stunned to be mortified.
“Fortunately for you, now you are attended.” He grinned and in one swift move, he tore his trunks off as he arched over me and into the water a few feet away.
I was panicked. I was caught red handed. Not to mention red cheeked and red just about everything. I felt the wave of heat wash over my body as I blushed from head to toe. What to do? Get out of the pool and give this guy a show as I ran naked to gather my robe and underthings? ….Or just remain pressed against the wall, exposing no more than my naked backside to the stranger with whom I was now sharing the pool?
While I wavered indecisively, I saw his blurry shadow under the rippling surface swimming toward me. He popped up about a foot away, shook his mop of hair like a wet dog, and grinned.
“Hi.” he said so quietly and in such a tone of voice, I think I forgot to breathe.
Now at eye level and so close I could reach out and touch him, he was no longer a silhouette against the night sky, and I realized why the voice had sounded so familiar.
“Hi.” was all I could choke out in a kind of low, breathy rasp. My mind was racing, but all I could focus on was the pounding of my heart in my ears and the little gasps of my shallow, rapid breaths. I thought, 'this must be what a panic attack feels like'. But then I realized that it wasn't exactly a panic attack. I had no desire to flee. What I really, really wanted ...needed... to do, was to reacquire my ability to form words.
“What... what are you doing here????” I asked, nearly breathless.
“I'm staying here. Nina recommended it. She said I should get the whole 'Hollywood experience', so I trusted her advice.” He shrugged, still grinning like a schoolboy.
“THIS...” I waved my hand gently against the surface sending ripples toward him “....is NOT part of the package.”
He just smiled and... absorbed me... with his eyes. “I consider it ….a surprise bonus.”
He gently reached out his arm and touching my shoulder, slowly spun me around.
“My back is against the wall. Quite literally. What exactly are your intentions sir?” I said as calmly as possible, though it still came out as a near whisper. Damn, I could not catch my breath.
The Golden Greek grinned mischievously, and again reaching out, ran a finger from my belly button up through my sternum to just under my chin. It was so light, almost more of a hover than a touch, and it cut through me like a laser.
I gasped involuntarily and let out a slight shudder. We both laughed nervously as the quiver sent waves of small ripples scattering against the curly black hair on his chest.
“Can I take it that is your answer?” He smiled.
I wanted to say something, but I was coming up dry. My brain was shriveled and my mouth was suddenly very, very dry. I reflexively licked my lips, only to see the fire blossom in his eyes.
Suddenly, an idea flashed through my mind. I locked eyes with his, smiled nervously, took a deep breath and keeping eye contact lowered myself under the water. I had pulled myself down to his waist and it was obvious what he was expecting, but as I was lowering myself down I was also coiling myself against the wall. I sprang off with my legs with all my might, darting right between his spread legs and swimming as hard as I could for the other side.
I'm a pretty good swimmer, and reasonably fast, but Costas was no slouch either, and just before I reached the far wall, I sensed him swim over me and do a small somersault as he positioned himself against end of the pool. I surfaced inches from his grinning face. Oh crap. What now? When in doubt, go for humour.
I placed an arm on each side of his shoulders, trapping him. I gave him a victorious grin. “NOW whose back is against the...”
And suddenly he had lunged forward and pulled me into him as he cradled my head in a deep, passionate kiss. And my brain exploded. Or at least shut down like a crashed computer.
I was speechless and overwhelmed. I noticed my body responding to his embrace, my hands exploring his body as greedily as his were exploring mine. He broke away from my still needy lips and darted up to nibble my earlobe, which sent shivers through me. He brushed the tip of his nose down my jawline as his teeth found their way to my exposed neck as I rolled my head in the other direction as he gently teased with playful nips. My hands reached down and found his ready member. I teased gently with my nails, and cupped it gently with my fingers, trying to do that barely-touch thing he did from my belly button to my throat. It seemed to have the same effect on him that he had on me. He reached a strong hand into my back and pressed me against him. Then he let up with a grin and lowered himself to my breasts, where he licked and nipped and teased me until I lost any remainder of control.
I squeezed him hard with my hand and leaned into his ear. “Take me. Now!” I pleaded in a hoarse whisper. He cradled my bottom with his strong hands and spreading me gently, slid into me.
I whimpered with pleasure at the overpowering sensations. My God. I never imagined anything could feel like this. I was barely coherent, overcome with the sensations.
And suddenly startled by blinding light. What the hell? We were caught!!! Did this pool have lights like a sports stadium? I was jarred from my reverie and threw my arm over my eyes to shield them from the blinding lights.
….of my ….bedroom?
“Jesus Kather... Elsie... are you all right?” Dennis was standing at the foot of the bed staring at me with alarm.
I was still pretty dazed and rather incoherent. I tried to form words, but my brain was busy rebooting. I noticed that I was drenched in sweat and could see from my arms and legs that I was flushed bright pink. Then I glanced down and saw the bunched up pillow jammed tightly between my clenched thighs. I don't think Denis noticed the transition from full flush to deep blush.
“I heard you moaning from the other room! Do you have a fever? Do you think it's food poisoning?” he dashed around to press his hand against my forehead. “My God girl, you're burning up!”
“It's nothing” I was finally able to whisper, still as hoarse as I remembered my voice.
“It's not nothing! Look at you! It was all those A&As wasn't it? I tried to warn Katherine, Absinthe is crazy stuff. But she would just nurse one. What did you have, four?”
I shook my head and sheepishly held up five fingers.
Dennis blanched. “Oh my God. It's wormwood poisoning! We have to get you to the hospital!”
I shook my head and gently removed his hands from me.
“It wasn't the absinthe. It's not shellfish poisoning or anything else. I'm perfectly fine.”
He shot me a scolding look. “You are NOT 'perfectly fine'. I heard you moaning from my room!”
“I'm not ill. It was an eventful night. I guess I just got a little ….overstimulated.” I lowered my eyes with embarrassment, and Dennis followed my eyes down to the still bunched pillow, which I quickly covered with the bedsheet.
“Oh.” he muttered. Then as it sank in, his eyes went wide and he stared at me blushing furiously. “OH!!!”
I nodded guiltily. “Yeah. It wasn't the absinthe. At least not directly. I guess I just had too much to dream.” I tried to force a breezy grin.
“....yeah....” he smiled uncertainly. This moment was obviously as awkward for him too.
“I'm SO sorry I woke you....”
He shrugged. “I'm a light sleeper. It's all good. I'm sorry I woke YOU!” He smiled. Then blushed deeply.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, God. I'm so thankful you DID! As it is, I already have so much to think about.”
“Think about it later girl. Right now, you need your beauty sleep. Morning comes too soon for the children of the night.” he smiled.
“Oh God!” I had a sudden panic. “You don't think I woke Mikey!???”
Dennis shook his head. “I don't think so. I'll check on him on my way back to my room. I just woke because I'm a light sleeper. And when I thought I heard Katherine moan, I guess I just sprang awake.
'Like the guardian angel you are' I thought to myself as I nodded and smiled. What I actually said TO him was “Thanks. She's lucky to have you. ...we both are.”
He flashed a bashful smile and turned to leave. “Sweet dreams” he whispered as he shut out the light and pulled the door shut behind him.
“God, I hope not!” I called out and I heard his laugh through the door.
I tried to sleep, but if I got any it was brief and fitful. I was a bit of a wreck the next day. Dennis understood and went easy on me. Mikey seemed to think I was hung over, and it seemed easier to let him think that. For whatever reason he went easy on me too, I was grateful.
I was sitting on the balcony just enjoying the warm sun and gentle breeze, maybe I was dozing in and out. Mikey came up behind me and gave me a gentle hug.
“I just wanted to say thank you for last night. ….and for everything actually.”
I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “It was a joy. And thank YOU for making me your plus one.”
“That one was MY joy. God I can't imagine if I had gone with anyone else.”
“Yeah. I can't wrap my head around where either of us would be then. Well.... you would still be bound for show business, but the trip might have been a bit different.”
“A LOT different!” Mikey laughed. “And where did you see yourself in this alternate universe?”
I furrowed my brow, but I really didn't need to think about it. I had already sorted this out ages ago. “Still living at home. Trying to find a job that paid enough to get out of the house... maybe a few jobs so I could scrape together some money to go to uni.”
“And study what?” Mikey asked. It was an innocent question, but still, he caught me.
I shrugged. “I haven't the foggiest. I never knew what I wanted to do with my life. I imagine I would continue to flounder. Maybe some day I'd sort it out. But it's too easy to imagine I never would. I'd just drift through life, an odd gangly outsider.”
“I'm sure once you got out on your own you'd make friends.”
I shook my head. “I don't see how. To have friends you have to let them in. Let them know you. I didn't even know myself. I don't think I would have become bitter or tragic or anything. I think I would just drift. Always alone and not minding. Not knowing any better.”
“Sounds tragic enough to me.” Mikey said gently. “Anyway, that path is closed now.”
“True. I will have enough to get out of the house and live comfortably for a long while.”
Mikey put up his finger “Or lavishly for long enough to forge your own success!”
I laughed. “Right. Doing what exactly?”
“You could model.”
I snorted. “Already been done. I'd just be a knockoff. Anyway, I've seen enough of that world to know it's a brutal and short career even for those few who DO make it. No thanks”
“Well, you can sing and dance. And you have a very quick and dry wit.”
“Just like two thirds of the graduates with dramatic arts degrees. And again, I'm at best a pale imitation of an established brand.”
“You could be a Katherine Keller impersonator!” he kidded.
I shot him a look. “Don't you think that field's already too crowded?”
He grinned. “Just a thought. So, what do YOU want to do?”
“I'm not sure. It's still too far off. Right now what I want to do is keep my head in the game, ace this Asia tour, figure out a way to explain everything to my mum and dad, find a place of my own and THEN figure out exactly what I want to make of my life.”
Mikey squeezed my shoulder. “I'm sure you will cuz. If there's one thing everyone will agree on, it's that you ARE resourceful.”
I reached up and grabbed his hand. “From your lips to God's ears.”
Mikey then leaned over and kissed me on the top of the head. It should have been strange. But it was just a tender gesture, and I felt a warm happiness come over me.
Dennis quietly came over and set a tall glass beside me. It looked like shampoo. Or motor oil. I glanced at Dennis, who clearly read the confusion on my face.
“Dr Dale's recipe. Katherine swears by it.”
I reflexively puckered my lips. “I'm familiar with it.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I had a sleepover. During the cast recording rehearsals?” I was sure I had told him. I guess not.
“Anyway, I'm not hung over. I just had ...a rough sleep.”
Dennis regarded me for a long while. I don't think he was buying it. “Whatever... this will still fix you up. And whether you're feeling it or not, after five...”
“...Meg Ryans” I snorted.
He stopped cold and tilted his head like a perplexed German Shepard. I waved it off.
“...it's a long story...” I smirked.
“But a ….cute... one?” his face twisted to a half smile as his eyes crinkled at me.
I just returned his gaze, pasted on my Mona Lisa smile and gingerly sipped Dr Dale's vile concoction.
Once he was sure I was 'rejuvenated', Dennis became merciless.
“Now that you've had your lazy, lounge-around-like-a-starlet morning, it's time to get off your pretty little behind and get to work girl! We're out of the country in just three days and who knows when we'll be back... it's time to....” His face froze when he caught my look. I wasn't coming back. We'd drop Mikey in Brisbane and Katherine and the tour still had to do Christchurch, but then I'd be done too. Either they'd drop me or I'd find my own way home from there. Dennis was so wrapped up in the preparations for the trip that I think that far-off detail hadn't registered yet. Until he saw my face.
His own face fell and he looked down at the floor. He was obviously feeling awkward and maybe embarrassed. I walked over to him and gently placed my hand on his forearm. He slowly raised his gaze from the floor and sheepishly looked up at me. His mouth was doing a thing that made him look like he was chewing gravel. I smiled as warmly as I could and rubbed his arm.
“Yeah. We have a lot to do and not much time left to do it. So where do we start?”
His mood was subdued, but he got back to his mental checklist.
“I've booked you into Katherine's spa. You're getting the full treatment. Hair, nails, face... and a full wax. Everything we did before the premiere has held up an amazing long time with surprisingly little need for touchups.” He let a tiny chuckle slip.
“UNLIKE Katherine, I'm guessing.”
He nodded and blushed. “She was ….IS.... somewhat ….higher maintenance.” He glanced back at the ground again.
I tried to distract him. “OK. Hair and nails... sculpt my face and ….peel me like a grape.” I let in a melodramatic draw of air as if cringing from the anticipation.
It worked. He laughed.
“OK. What else?”
“Well, a visit from Dr Dale. He wants so make sure you've had all your shots...”
“I'll bet he does“ I muttered.
“I mean for international travel. Innoculations and such.”
“and SUCH.” I grinned.
Dennis shook his head, smirking. “Stop that. OK. You know the routine by now. Anyway, he needs to check his ….handiwork... and probably ….reinforce things.... before your bikini wax.”
“Bikini Wax???” Playful banter was over. I was genuinely alarmed.
Dennis broke into a wide grin as I stared into his laughing eyes. I scowled back at his joke.
….At least I HOPED he had been joking. He got back to business.
“Then a few fittings, we're traveling all over the place. From Northern China to way south of the equator... you're going to need an expanded wardrobe for all sorts of seasons....”
I nodded. I had a passing thought of 'who gets all these things when the tour is over – me or Katherine?'
Immediately followed by the thought 'what on earth would I even DO with that wardrobe?' Even if, as I had insinuated to Doctor Karidoyanes & Dale that I couldn't see myself going back to life as Lorenzo Carlton, it's a far cry from humble working girl in transition to anyone who would require or even have a use for Katherine Keller's wardrobe. That was all too far in the future to become distracted by it now, I thought to myself and turned my attention back to Dennis, realizing that I had already become distracted for a good while.
“...with Mr Lehman, then a day off for loose ends and personal matters... and before sunup the next day, we're all in limos to the airport ready to get the band back together for the last leg of our tour.”
I nodded as if I'd been paying attention to everything he said. That's the great thing about 'being Katherine'. Even though Dennis and Dez know it's really me, to the rest of the world, I'm Katherine Keller... who is always in need of adult supervision and an army of minions to keep her on schedule. So even if I missed everything Dennis said, I trusted that there would be a swarm of drones to manouevre me through it.
Doctor Dale arrived in time to join us for brunch, and insisted I have another vile glass of his 'go juice' after hearing Dennis' tale of our night at Tritium and my FIVE absinthes. At some point, I would tell him MY version, but it was still too close and I was still processing everything. Dennis went in to my room and brought out my 5” sandals and Dale just stared at us in disbelief. Dennis seemed to be really enjoying regaling Dale with tales of my terrorizing the 'puny humans'. I think it was a sort of humble brag, sine he more than anyone was responsible for my ...intimidating... outfit the night before.
He brought out his smartphone and quickly found some shots from our 'selfie-blitz' leaving Cheval de Mer. Dale just stared at them and kept glancing at me. I tried to look inscrutable. It wasn't too hard because I was still rather dazed thinking about what we had done the night before and how I felt about it. I had no reservations about helping Mikey – and Dennis – network. I didn't think Katherine would be too upset about the over-the-top Katherine act. I even suspected that she would be amused in her own way. I was a bit more conflicted about how much I enjoyed it. The feeling of power and dominating a room was quite seductive, and I was uneasy at how quickly I had taken to it and wielded it like a weapon... and the ease with which I had done so.
Dale regarded me for a while longer. I said nothing. I wondered what was going through his mind, but half of me didn't want to know. He finally shook his head ever so slightly with a tiny grin, rummaged around his bag for a bit and handed me a small vial of tablets.
“Muscle relaxants”. His eyes darted back to my sandals from the night before which Dennis had brought out to show off and set by the counter. “You wore those for how many hours last night?”
I shrugged.
“Your calves are going to be in agony when they finally realize what you did to them.” he grinned. “Good thing you were so hammered, or you probably would have been in too much pain to walk out of the club.”
“I was NOT hammered!” I declared ...with much more certainty than I felt.
“FIVE absinthes? YOU are not a reliable witness.” he smirked. “well, you've certainly done nothing to tarnish Katherine's reputation.... if anything you've enhanced it!” He was enjoying needling me far too much.
He directed Dennis to brew up another cauldron of his vile elixer. OK, it was really just a glass but it should have come in a cauldron. When I learned his base - stock was green tea which he then ruined with his protein powders, megavitamins and various herbal goo until it had the consistency of mucous, I had to ask.
“Why do you call it Go Juice and not Go Tea?”
He threw his head back and roared. “Oh, God... I can't believe I never thought of that... and in all the years no one has ever suggested it! ...then again, they were usually barely functional when I'd give it to them.... Haha... yes... the drink that puts hair on your mouth. God, I'm going to miss you when this is all over!”
And instantly the mood in the room crashed.
And I tried not to wince as I dutifully forced down another glass of Dr Dale's viscous remedy.
The mood was subdued, but we proceeded with the ritual, I was zonked out, torn down and built back up. All the ...original equipment... seemed as good ….as it ever had been... and was once again hidden away like an unsightly and embarrassing birthmark. Dr Dale certified me 'good to go and spa ready' and Dennis went to assemble my outfit while I slowly came out of my haze.
Dale studied me. There was something in his gaze. I imagined it was the look someone would get from a loving uncle... benevolent... affectionate. At least that was what I imagined a loving uncle would do. Since my only personal experience was with uncle Kevin, who always eyed me with a look I have only ever seen on dingos, I had to trust my imagination.
“I guess this is it.” he said quietly. “You're off to storm Asia, and then home to your own life....”
I snorted reflexively.
“...and Katherine can come out of her cozy exile and resume her own life.”
I nodded sullenly. Then Dale's eyes crinkled as he held up a finger.
“....correction.... the life you left for her.... which is considerably more ….enhanced... than the one she left behind.”
I just looked at him. Was that a slam? Was it a compliment? I had no idea what he meant by that.
Then he smiled. “God, Dez and company got their money's worth with you sweetheart! They should owe you a bonus. Hell, Katherine should pay it out of her own pocket for what you've done for her company and the way you've enhanced her brand.”
I began to speak, but he cut me off.
“Let me finish. I don't think you would accept a bonus.”
I shrugged. I probably wouldn't but it would have been nice to be offered.
“I think you believe that you were the winner in this deal.”
I shrugged again, And felt the heat of a blush.
“Maybe both sides got far more than they bargained for.... beyond what either would expect... or could imagine.”
Now I KNEW I was blushing. Dale was gracious and ignored it.
“But Katherine gets to come back to a world of opportunities that were not there when she left. And that's all thanks to YOU. And from what I understand, her people have been ….managing expectations... so that the opportunities left to her are achievable - despite her.. more modest..” he cleared his throat “.....her limitations.”
What could I say? So I just continued looking at him. Expressionless.
“She will be fine. Hell, she will be better than fine. Crashing her car into that pool turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to her. Go figure.”
His eyes went somewhere for a few seconds. I noticed Dennis and Mikey had been tactful enough to leave the two of us alone, but I was sure that they were snooping within earshot. Finally Dale refocused.
“And then there's you.”
I shrugged. What else was there to do?
“You go back home. But you're not going back to your old life.”
“Doesn't really seem possible.” I shrugged.
He nodded. “So in helping out Katherine, and Dez Lehmann, and everyone else involved in her life and work, you sacrificed your entire old life.”
“You make it sound like I gave up something valuable. It wasn't. I just didn't know it at the time.”
“So what takes its place?”
I shrugged again. “I know and I don't know. I know what I want ...need... to do. But I'm still sorting out the steps to get there. First, I will cash that checque.” I grinned.
I was going for levity, but Dale remained impassive.
“....Then I will move out of my father's house... find a place ....far enough away from ...old baggage. And make a fresh start. ...begin to build a new, more satisfying... more...honest...” I reflexively blew out a breath while I struggled for the proper word. “A truer life.” I smiled, trying to seem confident.
Dale nodded. He remained expressionless.
“You don't agree?” I asked. My self confidence was beginning to wane.
He shook his head. “No. It sounds like a plan. A good one. And as well as I know you from our few, but ...frank, encounters... it sounds like the right plan.” I was relieved. Yet he still didn't look happy. “It's just an enormous amount to do. And the way you describe it, it sounds like you'll be doing all of this alone.”
I shrugged. “I'm used to it.”
His expression got thoughtful. “Maybe once you begin living a life ….as you put it, truer to your nature... you may find you stop pushing people away and won't be as alone as you expect.”
I hadn't thought of that, but the moment he said it, it seemed possible.
“Perhaps. Still, I'm prepared to go it alone if need be. The only path is forward.” I was trying to convince myself as much as Dale. “It will happen. I won't stop until it does.”
“I have no doubt. Among the things I have learned in our months together is that you are not to be underestimated. You are the most resourceful.....” he trailed off and seemed lost in thought again.
I clapped my hands together loudly in a 'that's-that' gesture. “Well, are we through here?” I wanted to get off this awkward subject, especially since we talked it into the ground. “...because I have to go get beautiful!” I said with what I hoped was a dazzling smile and carefree air.
“Get?” Dale laughed. “Oh alright. Go get pampered!”
“Pampered?” I scoffed. “I'm going to get sanded and lacquered and peeled. You guys have NO idea what we go through. Beauty is a pain!” I grinned.
He shot me another unreadable look. “Yeah. I guess that's true. But I'll take your word for it. ….although if it's half as unpleasant as you make it sound, you may want to take one of those muscle relaxants before they start in on you. It may take the edge off. Just don't mix them with alcohol.”
I smiled and flashed a finger wave over my shoulder as I breezed back to my room to see what Dennis had laid out for me.
It was a drastic change from the previous night's outfit and I was quite pleased. A cream cotton peasant blouse with lovely cranberry and forest green embroidery, a pair of wide leg velveteen slacks in chocolate brown, and some comfy looking espadrilles in light parchment brown.
Dennis saw me eyeing his selections and must have thought he needed to justify it.
“I figured you'd just be stripping all this off when you get to the spa, so I was thinking easy on easy off and and go for comfort.”
I nodded, flashing him a smile. “Absolutely! They look as cozy as pajamas. Once I get them on, I may want to curl up and nap.”
He grinned and turned to go quietly singing “Dream lover' to himself.
I threw a pillow at him but he spun and shut the door too quickly, smirking.
The spa was expecting me when I arrived, so I imagine the short wait in reception was just to hydrate and steel myself for what lay ahead.
I was sipping a water and thumbing mindlessly through a magazine when a voice above me cried out “Christ. They'll let anybody in here!”
I didn't skip a beat. Without looking up, I muttered “So I noticed. Quit stalking me bitch.”
Bianca plopped down next to me. “In your dreams freak.” She was trying hard for deadpan, but her eyes were starting to crinkle with a smile.
“I'd reschedule, but we have a ...thing... in a few days, so I can't. But you can.” I said, still staring at my magazine and trying to hide my own smile.
“A THING? ...you call boarding a chartered plane to tour what, a dozen countries for three weeks a thing?”
“I think it's only 10 or so, but more than a dozen cities.... closer to 20....”
“Whatever... pfffft...” she waved her hand dismissively. “You're off to jetset around the world and you're so casual about it, meanwhile I'm here to get all presentable to suck up to studio suits in Anaheim conference rooms.”
“Blue Balls?” I asked wondering how long it took her not to blush when saying it, because I was struggling.
She just nodded. I think she still blushed a little.
“I thought that was a done deal?”
“You of all people should know it's not over, even when the project's in the can.”
I nodded back. “So neither of us can reschedule. Well, it's certainly not the only place in town. You could always go somewhere else.”
“You know there's no one else in town as good. Hell, you were the one who turned me on to this place.”
My eyes darted to her, sitting beside me, looking like she tasted something bitter. She sighed. “You found them first, I suppose I can't tell you to go somewhere else.”
“....Like …..hell?” I smirked, still looking at my magazine.
Bianca chuckled. “That would work.” Then I noticed out of the corner of my eye, she turned to me “but that's not gonna happen, so let's just agree to stay out of each others way, and try not to scream too much.”
I turned to her, I think she saw the confusion on my face.
“I presume, you're doing the wax room.” It wasn't a question.
“Does it show?”
Bianca shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. “No, no... You've got that whole ….yeti thing... totally under control. I just thought since you were hitting the road for about a month....”
I nodded. “You're right. But no worries. I've got it covered.” I said, fishing into my bag and shaking the vial of muscle relaxants. “Doctor's orders” I smirked.
“Dale Coughlin, right?” she eyed me. I nodded. “Damn, there are days I wish I had ME a Hollywood crackpot 'doctor'....” she made air quotes with her fingers “....and this is one of them. No wonder you're so chill.” Then she leaned in to whisper. “You're high as a kite already, aren't you?”
I shook my head. “No. I just always try to be prepared.”
“What the hell, were you a boy scout?....” she started to snark and stopped short, blushed, coughed and fumbled for a magazine. “...sorry...”
What exactly was the ….thing... between Bianca and Katherine? It was really beginning to nag at me, but I reminded myself that it was none of my business. Oh well, time to be the bigger person.
“There's like a dozen of these in here” I said shaking the pill vial. “I'm waiting until shortly before the waxing. I don't want it to wear off midway through.”
Bianca nodded.
“I sure don't need them all. Take some.” I held out the bottle.
Bianca regarded the bottle for a moment, glanced at me, then back at the bottle. I think she was still uncertain, but I wasn't sure whether it was over Katherine being nice, or taking some pills supplied by the notorious Dr Dale. She made up her mind with the slightest nod and took the bottle, removing a tissue from her bag and folding it around a few tablets. She may not have made up her mind about taking them, but at least she would have them when she did decide. She shot me a curious look which I read to mean 'why are you being so nice?'.
“Sharing is caring” I tossed off as I rose and walked toward the attendant waiting for me by the door. Bianca just shot me a perplexed and ...conflicted?... look. I waved my fingers over my shoulder and headed off to go get pampered ….and tortured.
Reflecting back on that first time in Dez's hotel suite, I think the saving grace for me was that I had no idea what was in store, so it was over before I even had time to cry out. But this time, I knew what was in store, and the dread and anticipation only seemed to make it worse. I excused myself and took a quick break for a water ...and washed down one of Dr Dale's little yellow pills.
It did help 'take the edge off' as he said. I wondered if I should have taken two. Then I thought about Bianca. I hadn't told her how many to take. I think she grabbed three or four. Oh crap. I totally forgot to pass along Dale's warning about alcohol! I hoped that she would just be cautious and wouldn't need either warning. At this point, all I could do was hope.
After the 'peeling' and the plucking, the pampering felt doubly delicious.
As I lay on the massage table and melted under the strong hands of Ivana who rubbed warm tea tree oil from my shoulder blades down to my calves, I had to fight the strong desire to purr. After the flaying, having her strong fingers knead my tense muscles into jelly was simply indescribable.
As I hovered in a blissed out haze, which I truly believe was due to Ivanna's magic fingers and not Dr Dale's little yellow pill, there was a knock at the door. Mira, another attendant, inquired sheepishly if Bianca could join us.
“I'm terribly sorry to bother you Ms Keller” she nearly groveled. “But Ms DeMedici was quite insistent...”
I waved my hand airily. “I know how she can be....” I fought my urge to smile and retained Katherine's stone face. “That's fine. Sure. Let her in.”
As soon as I said that Bianca stepped out from behind the attendant and plopped herself face down on the adjacent massage table. “See? I told you she wouldn't mind. We go waaaay back. We got NO secrets.... am I right Katie?” she tried to prop herself up on her elbows and almost succeeded flashing me a crooked grin. I took an educated guess.
“I'm guessing the muscle relaxants worked?”
“Ohhhhh yeahhhhhhh.” she grinned. “Wax on... wax off... chchchchch...” she made this graphic ripping sound “piece 'o cake!” she craned her head around the room “Hey... Mila?”
“It's Mira” the attendant standing right beside her gently corrected.
“Another wine. I seem to have lost mine....”
The attendant scowled discreetly.
“And one for my friend Katie here.”
I smiled at the attendant. “How about two waters? Or better yet, can we get two coffees?”
The attendant nodded with relief and scurried out of the room.
“God, you're no fun.” Bianca scolded. I assumed she was addressing me, although she raised her head and turned to an empty corner of the room. “I remember when you used to be fun.....” she kind of ran out of steam for a bit and Ivanna resumed my massage while Bianca just stared at the floor, resting her head into the massage table. She was just taking long, deep breaths and part of me hoped she passed out or fell asleep. But she was just catching her second wind.
“I still AM fun! You can ask anyone. Ask your boyfriend... “ she said it like a taunting 6 year old. I think she tried to make air quotes, but she just opened and closed all her fingers on her splayed hands. “He'll tell you I'm funner than you now.... God, I remember when you used to be fun.” she slumped on the massage table and faced the floor, breathing steadily. I hoped she had fallen asleep. No such luck.
“....I had such a mad crush on you.....” she muttered
I turned to Ivanna and asked if we could have 10 minutes alone. She seemed relieved to get away.
Bianca continued her semi-coherent ramble, still staring through the table, addressing the floor.
“I can read people. Always could. And I knew you were crushing back.”
“I...”
She immediately threw up her arm and held her palm out to stop me. “NOT finished here! ….I've never been wrong about people.... not ever. I was sure that minion of yours ….Deano... Denholm...”
“Dennis.”
“Yeah, HIM. He was trying to keep us from getting together.... Damn, it took me forever to get you alone...” she seemed to space again. Then she barked a bitter laugh. “I'm never wrong about people. ….but damn, was I wrong about YOU.....” she just stared at the floor, breathing raggedly.
I didn't know how to respond. How Katherine would respond. I think Katherine would have just stayed as far away from Bianca as possible and this moment could never happen.
“I really had no idea.” was all I could think to say.
“How can you SAY that? ...we had CHEMISTRY... everyone saw it.... even your guy Dermot.”
“Dennis.” I sighed. How do I get out of this? I remembered Katherine's warning about building bridges. I had to find a way out of this without making peace. I gambled.
“You say you're good with people.”
She nodded. “Always was. Still am. ….....Except you.”
“Yeah. I'd consider your record intact...”
She turned to me with a tentative look of ...hope? I quickly shook my head.
“No, you still misread me. But you said you can read people. I guess that just means I'm not like other people.”
She laughed bitterly. “No shit!” She paused, staring again at the floor. Then she pulled in a deep breath. “Sorry. Out of line. You are what you are.... and I'll just have to deal with that. I just never expected....” she shook her head. “I thought....” she seemed to be struggling to find the right words.
“Well.... If you know anything at all, you know I'd be the last person to ever out someone.” She raised her head and turned to me. “Even you.” then she collapsed back down to the table and continued talking to the floor. I remembered Dale's talk on the plane back from Connecticut and his mention of 'ambiguous genitalia'. I had a hunch Bianca found out the hard way.
“So it wasn't me. ….you've never been with a woman?” she said, still staring at the floor.
I hoped I wasn't putting words in Katherine's mouth, but I answered for myself. “No. Not really. ….or a man.....”
She snorted. “Well, I guess I got as far as anyone had.”
“Farther than most.” I guessed. “Sorry about the ...mixed signals... I truly had no idea.” I was certain that Katherine really didn't, but would never admit it. I however, thought I could find a way to get this subject buried once and for all. “I guess it's like being colorblind. You saw the light change from red to green, but I just saw it go from brown to brown. It really was the mother of mixed signals.”
“Hell of a movie that would make....” Bianca muttered.
“Nevermind the movie. Imagine the tie-in theme park ride.”
That finally got a laugh from Bianca. Ivanna and Mira must have been evesdropping, because as soon as the mood lightened, they returned with our coffees and we finished up our massages in silence.
I spent hours at the salon, but I knew it was the major tune up before we shipped out, so I figured the whole laundry list of services was necessary. I was tickled to find that my own hair had grown out enough that the extensions weren't really required. I did get a color touch up to Katherine's deep auburn, and thought it was so much more becoming than my own mousy blonde.
While I was between chairs, I texted Dennis a progress report and noticed I had a message. I did not recognize the number.
“R U free @ all B4 U lv 4 Asia? U still O me a smoothie ;-)”
I grinned and dialed the number.
Matt picked up on the second ring.
“Hey! I didn't expect you to actually call. You must be crazy busy. “
“You have no idea!” I laughed.
“Well thanks for taking a moment out of your hectic schedule. You leave for Asia in a few days, right?”
“Have you been reading those trashy gossip magazines again?” I teased.
“Only for the sports section.” he laughed. “So, before you leave I wanted to get that smoothie you owe me.”
“Seriously? Wasn't that photo op at the ball game – AND the restaurant after, payback enough?”
“I don't recall there being a smoothie in any of that. You SAID you owe me a smoothie” he said playfully.
I sighed melodramatically. “OK. Literal boy... I'll try to wedge you into my compressed social calendar” I think he could hear the smile in my voice. “What does your calendar look like?”
“Wide open.”
“What about classes? ...track practice?”
There was a pause.
“I'm kind of …..taking a semester off....”
I did not see that coming. “You're not going to school?”
“Not at the moment. I'll explain face to face. ...so my schedule's wide open... I'm catching a bus back to Montana in a couple days, so any time between now and then.”
“I should be through here in about 45 minutes. How close are you to Beverly Hills?”
I was in the lobby of the spa 'waiting for my ride'.
In truth, my ride was discreetly nearby, waiting for ME. And I was waiting for Matt. I had given him the address and he had assured me that he would be here shortly.
While I was thumbing through an old issue of Conde Nast Traveler, my phone chirped.
It was Matt. He was outside. Apparently once he saw that the address I had given him was a beauty spa, he decided that he could not step inside. I shook my head and chuckled at the thought. I texted for our car and then texted Matt.
B rite out. 1 errand 1st – K?
The 'errand' was Bianca. She was still really out of it and the staff at the salon were extremely uneasy about 'releasing her into the wild'. She said she hadn't driven, but they checked her jacket pockets and purse for car keys anyway. Once it was clear that she wouldn't be driving impaired, they asked her how she intended to get home. She didn't seem to have a plan. Or a care. She kept insisting that she could catch a bus or walk. The staff was determined that THAT was not going to happen.
So, feeling rather responsible for her impaired state, I offered to 'deliver the package'.
I got the confirmation that my car had arrived, and I presumed that Matt was still lurking outside like a bashful stalker. MUCH better than stepping inside and being exposed to a spa lobby, I grinned.
When I exited to the street, Bianca draped around me, hanging from my neck like some gaudy human accessory, I was surprised to find a grinning Matt Cutler teetering precariously on crutches.
I was about to ask him what the hell happened when Bianca chose that moment to come out of her fog.
Somewhat.
“I know you!” she shout/mumbled, and thrust a pointed arm at Matt. Regrettably, it was the arm that had been hooked around my neck, discreetly holding her up. She began to slide down me toward the ground and I had to swoop to recapture her and steady her against my frame.
Matt just grinned. I had no idea what he found so funny since there were SO many possibilities. I just gave him a small exasperated 'not helping here' scowl and tried to keep Bianca propped up. I got the feeling that Matt was relieved to find me too preoccupied to grill him about the crutches.
But I'm patient, and always knew that in time I would.
Emile the driver quickly came around and got the door. Normally I wasn't big on protocol, but this was really helpful since I was encumbered by my 'human scarf' and my companion seemed barely able to keep himself upright.
I poured Bianca into the back, struggling to keep her flaccid frame in an upright position.
“There you go love.... now just slide over to the other side hon....”
She shot me a vaguely distressed look and made a primal sort of croaking sound while I tried to gently guide her across the bench seat of the town car without getting TOO 'handsy'. It was like trying to push a string. Finally she was safely nestled in the far corner. I turned back to Emile.
“Does this car have child-proof locks? I'd hate for her to slide out as we round a corner.”
I said it in Katherine's deadpan, and realized it was both a joke and a serious concern. He just grinned and nodded.
I then turned to the precarious mister Cutler.
“Do you require special assistance too or can you manage?” I asked with just the slightest head tilt.
He shook his head. “I'm getting the hang of this.” And he gingerly made his way to the door, placed his right arm on the roof, jettisoned his crutches in my direction, which I lunged to catch, and swung in with a 'plop' next to Bianca. Saying “Thanks!” as I swooped in to snag his toppling crutches.
I waved Emile back to his door while I made a deliberately showy 'THIS is how it's done' graceful entrance to my seat, pulling my door closed in one elegant gesture, then turning to mock glare at my two seatmates.
I looked at Matt and nodded toward Bianca. He just looked back blankly. I noticed Emile eyeing us through his rear view mirror. I sighed dramatically, muttered “grace be damned” - and leaned across Matt to fish under Bianca's bottom and find her seatbelt, which I finally managed to attach, although it felt like buckling in a large rag doll. As I lifted myself from across Matt's midsection, I caught him grinning down at me.
“Are you enjoying this?” I asked with quiet sarcasm as I buckled myself in. He merely nodded, grin still plastered across his face.
“Well, I guess that makes one for, one against, and one....” I glanced at Bianca, “...not present.”
Matt let out a little snort, and Emile turned to us. “Where to?”
I surveyed my seatmates.... held for a beat, and turned back to him. “I suppose rollerblading on Venice Beach is out. Let's just get this one home” and I cocked a thumb toward Bianca.
It was not a terribly long ride, and I tried to question Matt on his apparent injury, but Bianca didn't make it easy.
“I DO know you!” she leaned in awkwardly close to glare at Matt “....don't I?”
Matt and I rolled eyes at each other.
“You're one of those guys!” she was getting adamant, insistently poking Matt's chest with her finger.
He gave me a pained look, which I took as 'a little help here?'.
“What guys would those be sweetie?” I asked her.
She leaned forward... actually more folded forward and caught herself, bending her arms like a kickstand to prop her torso at an angle. She peered across Matt and looked ..more or less.. at me.
“You wouldn't know. MY guys....” then she twisted to look up at him. “You're one 'a my Blue Balls guys!!!”
Matt went bright crimson and shot me a panicked look. I just patted his knee and said calmly “She thinks you're one of the extras from her movie 'Blue Balls' ….the game sequence they were filming at your school?”
I saw the relief on his face as he finally got it.
“No honey. He's not in your movie. But he WAS at the game. He was one of the ones who came later. After the game.”
“After YOU crashed!” she pointed a finger at me. There was accusation, but I sensed no malice. Actually I was sensing little from Bianca beyond mild disorientation.
She turned back to Matt. “Well, you should be in my NEXT movie. You're kinda hot....” she then craned over the mortified Matt and looked up at me. “Am I right Katie?”
To my great relief, it was then that Emile called out “We're here.” as he made the turn into her driveway.
We were idling by the front door for a suspiciously long time. If it hadn't been a black town car, I imagine someone would have called the cops. All the while, we were inside trying to sort out the logistics. I was leaning over the amused Matt, who was being NO help whatsoever, trying to undo Bianca's lap belt, but she kept squirming which made it near impossible. I began to think she was doing it deliberately, like a petulant child. When I caught her smirk, I was certain.
I growled to myself in exasperation and turned to Emile. It suddenly dawned on me that we were in a private driveway and not a busy street. There was no need to pull everyone through the right side door. “Would you please unlock her door?” I asked as politely as I could. I think he could hear the frustration in my voice and was amused. He nodded and I heard the click. He went for his door, but I shot from mine and darted around the car to catch her as – just as I suspected, she managed to open it and began to spill to the ground.
By this time Emile was standing over us, arms crossed and trying to hide a smile. He looked like Terry Crews posing as Mr Clean. I hid my own smirk as I muttered. “It's fine. I've got her.” and wrapped her back around me for the short walk to her door.
I rang the bell, hoping someone was home. I did NOT want to fish through her purse for her house keys. Although if I did, I suddenly realized, I could see if she had ANY of Dr Dale's muscle relaxants still wadded up in tissue and get rid of them.
I had hoped there would be someone home to answer the bell. I guess I was expecting a housekeeper or gardener or someone.
I had not expected who finally did answer.
Bianca's wife.
She must have eyed us through a peep-hole or security cam, because her face showed no surprise. Only irritation.
“Hi Emily...” I tried to be cheery and failed miserably. Her mouth was beginning to pucker as Bianca's head, which had been slumped on my shoulder shot up.
“Hi honey! Look what I found!” she exclaimed goofily. Emily and I exchanged looks. Any words we would have could wait until we dealt with the immediate issue of the spouse wrapped around my neck.
“I'm surprised to find you home...” I said, groping for conversation.
“I'll bet you ARE.” she glared.
“No. I just mean, I know how hard you work, I didn't expect you to be home at this time of day.”
“Usually I'm not.” she glanced at Bianca then returned her glare to me. “...must be my lucky day.”
I suddenly caught her implication. “Wait wait wait just a MOMENT!” I was beginning to find my own indignation, which I figured was the only thing I had to defend myself in this encounter.
“I just bumped into Bianca at the spa...”
“Some coincidence” Emily snorted.
“No.... s'true....” Bianca muttered. I wasn't so sure I wanted her impaired assistance in this conversation. But she was going to give it whether I wanted it or not. “...member? Katie was the one told me about it'n the first place....”
Emily continued to stare at me like a bug under a magnifying glass. Suddenly it was clear to me what exactly was going through her mind.
“Wait. You think Bianca and I came back here to....” I stared at her with what I hoped came across as disbelief and righteous indignation. “WHY on earth would I ring the damned bell???”
“To make sure no one else was home.” She replied icily.
I was taken aback. She just admitted what she had been thinking. I had hoped I was wrong. I was not. I quickly regrouped.
“Well why on earth would I leave my driver idling at the door?” The more I thought about it, the easier her jealous thoughts were to demolish.
“And why the HELL would I do it with another passenger waiting in the back seat???” I had a full head of steam now, and I knew quickly that I had shut her down. But she wasn't entirely finished.
“I just thought you were getting even for that time....” she faltered.
I snorted dismissively. “Please that's ancient history. Long buried.” I really didn't know the sordid details about what happened between Bianca and Katherine so long ago, but between Bianca's ramblings at the spa and Emily's oblique references, I had a general idea. More than I cared to know actually.
Emily looked up at me with a touch of disbelief. “Really?”
I nodded. “Ages ago. ...and in model years? That was like the Triassic period.”
She snorted a laugh. Finally the tension evaporated and we could get back to business.
“Now, where do you want me to put this?” I grinned, pointing my chin to the slumped Bianca.
Emily reached out her arms. “Here, let me....”
I shook my head. “No problem. I can haul her wherever you need. And I'm tall enough that I won't drag her on the floor.” I allowed myself as much of a smile as I thought was permissible for Katherine.
She smiled back and motioned for me to follow her up the stairs where we poured Bianca onto the bed.
“I'll be right back to help you hon.” Emily called over her shoulder while Bianca swept her arm loosely.
“Bye Katie!.... Have fun in China.... or ...whatever....”
Emily and I exchanged glances. But there was no longer any hostility.
I put my hand to her forearm as we were coming down the stairs. “I really am sorry about this.”
Emily began to shake her head. I cut her off.
“It really was my fault.... I had some muscle relaxants to ...take the edge off the full waxing. She seemed stressed herself, so I thought I'd share.”
Emily scowled.
“...but I didn't think to tell her to only take one...and not with wine.... I figured she knew.”
Emily shot me a disapproving look. “Not everyone is as ….experienced... as you.”
I blushed. Katherine really did have a reputation. “I swear it was an accident. I never intended...”
She turned to me “Next thing you're going to tell me driving your Porsche into that swimming pool was an accident.” I couldn't read her face. Was she being mean or funny? I made my choice.
“No. It was a really hot night and I was desperate to cool down.” I deadpanned.
That did it. She laughed so hard she nearly fell down the stairs. I had to grab her because her hands were to her face instead of the railing. When she had composed herself, we continued to walk in silence to the front door.
“I truly AM sorry....” I said as I turned to go to the car.
“I know” she said gently and patted my hand.
As I walked back to the car and heard the door shut behind me, I thought 'NOT building bridges... just cleaning up old schrapnel'
Emile started the car and we rolled out the driveway.
“Where to, Ms Keller?”
I looked to Matt. He was already looking at me with a smile I couldn't read.
“So, are you really in the mood for just a smoothie?”
He shrugged. “I could eat.”
I smiled and nodded. 20 something college athlete? It had been a rhetorical question. “Any preferences?” He shook his head. “Anything you won't eat?”
He grinned. “Not yet”.
I had a notion. I turned to Emile, who eyed me through the rearview. “Emile.... not to be nosy, but I've heard you talking. You're from around here right?”
“Not born here. But yeah, I grew up here.” he raised an eyebrow. I don't think anyone expected Katherine to remember their name, let alone anything else about them.
“If you had one last meal and you could go anywhere in town... where would you go?”
He eyed me for the longest time. I knew he was thinking about it. I also knew he was puzzled and maybe conflicted about how to answer. I gave him a few minutes. When his brow relaxed, I knew he had arrived at his answer, but he still remained silent.
“So.... do you have a suggestion?” I drummed my fingers loudly enough for him to hear it. I hope from my tone of voice he could tell I was amused and not angry.
He hesitated. I had never seen Emile display uncertainty. Part of his powerful presence was his radiating quiet confidence. That's why he was such a great driver/bodyguard. He rarely had to do anything than just stand there looking like the force you wouldn't want to mess with. I actually found his awkwardness kind of endearing.
“Uhhh the question you asked.... exactly …. was uh... if I had one last meal and could go anywhere in town....”
I nodded. “Precisely. You're an excellent witness.” I smiled.
He fidgeted. I knew that was another requirement of his job if something ever did occur, but he seemed surprised that Katherine actually noticed that.
“So. Last meal. ….oh, I don't mean like death row or anything.” I laughed trying to lighten the mood. “I just mean... if the word came that you'd be leaving town... say for the other side of the world... and you didn't know when...” I tried to hide my small swallow “...or IF... you'd be back.”
He began turning to face me.
“Drive!” I barked. Not that I thought he would really endanger us. I just didn't want to return his gaze. I tried to put a light, airy tone in my voice, hoping it didn't sound too forced.
“I just mean... lots of air miles... lots of countries. Anything could happen. One could get an offer too good to refuse from a Macao Casino Tycoon... or... I heard of this one crazy dictator who routinely kidnapped foreign starlets to his fortress country.....”
Matt interrupted. “Actually, that was his DAD... and those were just crazy rumours... do you actually read those trashy tabloids?” he smirked.
“Only to find out what I'm really up to....” I smiled and put a finger to his lips. I did not want to get distracted. I leaned forward and addressed Emile again.
“So. Last meal. LA. You grew up here. You know this town. And YES... where YOU would go... not some trendy buzz factory where 'Katherine Keller – registered trademark'...” I used air quotes and a stilted voice, which made him laugh. “...would go. Good food. Good people. Good memories.”
He nodded. I knew he had something in mind. I think my little speech made him less shy about sharing it.
“You're serious.” It wasn't a question. It was a statement awaiting confirmation.
I nodded, smiling brightly yet speaking sternly. “...as a court summons.”
“OK...” he shrugged and took the next exit off the freeway, heading us down to the city streets.
We drove deep into the city. Through neighborhoods that I was certain Katherine had never seen, yet I recalled Dennis talking about their early days 'on the streets' back east before her discovery, and I knew she would find them all too familiar. Emile grew up here, and somehow found himself part of Katherine's world. It did not surprise me that he knew these streets well.
As we were driving, I took the opportunity to grill Matt.
“So Tiny Tim. What's with the crutches?”
“Tiny Tim?” he scowled in mock offense. I just returned a glare. “That's rather offensive. ….and inappropriately familiar!”
My glare turned to a blush. “God, get your mind out of the gutter you perv!” I blustered.
His scowl turned to a wicked grin. Then it faded to a slight frown.
“I'm stupid.” he muttered.
That was not an adequate answer. I simply stared at him until he explained.
“Um. I was picking up money on the side, working with uh... some other guys from school. They advertise on Craigslist as 'Student Body Movers'. ...actually, online they shorten it to 'StudBody Movers'. Their gimmick was they were shirtless movers. I would pick up extra bucks when they needed an extra... um... body.”
I merely raised an eyebrow, but remained otherwise expressionless. Although secretly I was enjoying his shy discomfort.
“Uhhhh... the money was really, really good. And though I had the scholarship that just covered tuition and dorm. Any living expenses were on me..... We didn't ..um.. DO anything except what we said. Move. ….shirtless.”
I found his uneasiness charming. I knew the surest way to prolong his discomfort was to continue staring at him. Attentive yet expressionless. And unblinking. (Thank you Katherine!)
He squirmed a bit, gave me another glance, and reluctantly continued.
“So.... I was moving a chest of drawers down a narrow staircase with Eddie, one of the other guys... when he.... slipped.”
I scowled. He winced at the memory.
“I was on the low end and the thing went skidding down the stairs like a log down a chute. Pinning me under it and dragging me along.”
I remained expressionless because I was honestly at a loss for how to react. Shock, horror and outrage at this senseless accident fought for control of my emotions, but it was a stalemate, and I locked down my ...expressionless... expression.
Matt let out a heavy sigh. “It really could have been a whole lot worse. I ended up with four cracked ribs...but they could have been totally shattered. I'm actually bandaged up like a mummy” he forced a wry grin. “And I broke my ankle... and have a hairline fracture in my tibula” he frowned. “So long track scholarship.”
I frowned too. “That's so unfair.”
He shrugged. “So. I'm ….taking a hiatus.... until I can find another way to afford to go back to school. I have enough for a bus ticket back to Missoula. And you know what they say about home... it's the place where when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” he smiled sadly.
I wondered if my father had ever heard that saying, and seriously doubted it. Then I shook that thought off and turned back to Matt.
“So, I figured while I was still in town.... I'd look you up and ...say so long.” he shrugged.
I reached out and took his hand.
“I'm glad you did.” I smiled.
We rode in silence as Emile took us deeper east. Matt continued to hold my hand as we each stared out our windows lost in thought. I did notice the neighborhoods getting more ….stark. But I trusted Emile. He had questioned me if I was serious, and I said yes. I was sticking to that. So despite the growing ...barrenness... of the landscape, I retained my faith in Emile.
We pulled up outside a nondescript white concrete building on a corner. It looked like a restaurant ...actually more like a diner... maybe a cross between the two. On the two walls facing the intersecting streets it had hand painted in big red letters the word “Eat”. Emile deftly maneuvered the Town Car between a rusting Camry and a faded old VW Rabbit. A couple kids came running over, no doubt curious about the shiny black Lincoln. Emile waved them over, and leaning through the window asked them if they'd help him keep an eye on the car while he went inside. He peeled a few bills and pressed them into the kids hands, saying that it was a deposit and he'd pay in full when we got back to our well-guarded car. I wasn't sure how two 12 year olds could guard a car in what looked like a rough neighborhood, but I was sure Emile knew what he was doing. As the kids smiled and nodded, he said quietly “Any trouble. One stays with the car, the other goes in and gets me.” he said cocking his thumb at the diner as he opened his door and stepped out.
It was priceless to see the kids expression as this mountain of a man rose out of the small car door. They just craned their necks and stepped back... I'm not sure whether it was intimidation or they just needed to stand back to get a look at all of him without uncomfortably looking skyward.
He came around to my door and the look was repeated. Even though I was dressed down in the peasant top and brown slacks, I was still pretty towering, even in flats. I smiled wondering what they would have thought if they could have seen me the night before in my five inch stilettos.
It was the cutest thing to watch these two. It was as if a spaceship had landed on their street and these strange aliens had stepped out. I guess in a way we were.
Emile stooped down and chatted with them a bit to put them at ease. I couldn't really hear what he said, but he pointed down one street and their eyes went wide. They peppered him with questions and he mostly smiled and nodded. He put them at ease. Then he introduced us. He seemed a little uncomfortable, so I spared him the awkwardness of how to address me. “Hi, I'm Katherine. And this is Matt.” Matt waved clumsily trying to get back on his crutches.
“You're a lady?” the boy said.
The girl elbowed him hard, hissing “Stevie!”
“On occasion, I've been called a lady” I tried for humour to hide my surprise. “Not looking too ladylike dressed like this” I forced a laugh and held out a corner of my peasant top, twisting my torso.
“I've just never seen a girl so TALL!” he blustered. The girl elbowed him again.
“Eva! Quit it!” he glared at her. She just rolled her eyes and glared back.
“Have you ever seen a BOY that tall either? God, that was so RUDE!”
She turned to me and said “I'm SO sorry about my little brother.... he's just....” she was floundering.
“...a little brother.” I smiled. She let out a big relaxed breath and nodded, smiling.
“No problem.” I dismissed it with a smile. Matt had manouvered himself to the curb and Emile turned to the kids.
“We won't be long. You need anything, we're right inside. OK?” Emile addressed them.
They nodded. Emile nodded back then turned to us and cocked his neck in the direction of the diner. We made our way up the small concrete steps to the door, Emile leading the way.
It was one of those doors with a bell on it, so anyone in back could hear we arrived. The place was empty. It was neat and modest, but deserted. Emile looked around, taking it all in. I could tell by his gaze that he had not been here in a long time. We waited awkwardly for a while. Emile reopened and shook the door, the clattering bell echoing off the walls of the empty place.
Emile walked inside, past the register by the door.
“Ay!” he bellowed. “Est ce que tout dormir???”
“Yeah yeah yeah...” a voice grumbled from the back. A grizzled old guy in white workshirt and pants wiping his hands on a towel pushed open the kitchen door muttering “..keep your damn...” and stopped cold when he saw us.
He just stood there, squinting. I could see out of the corner of my eye the broad smile growing on Emile's face.
“Milo?” The guy finally muttered. I felt Emile nodding beside me. Then they both began walking toward each other with increasing speed as Emile swept the old guy up in a bear hug. “Too long old man. Too long!”
After a while, the two guys broke the clench, and seemed a bit embarrassed about the PDA. The old guy looked him up and down.
“Sharp suit. You're doing good.”
Emile nodded, trying to hide his obvious pride at the old guy's approval.
“And who are your friends?” he asked jutting his chin in our direction.
“Oh! Jasper St Hillaire, this is Katherine Keller my...”
I picked up on his awkward hesitation instantly and butted in before the old guy caught it.
“We work together.”
Emile almost blew it by turning to me with a perplexed look. I just steamrolled on hoping he'd figure it out before the old guy.
“...at this media company 'Haute Shot'”
“Haute Shot, huh?” he grinned. “Sounds fancy. What do they do?” He addressed Emile, but Emile turned to me, obviously uncertain how to answer.
“Oh, entertainment and fashion. Working with designers, fashion industry publications, media outlets. Basically if a designer has a creation to show off. Haute Shot acts as a liaison between the industry and media outlets... magazines, tv, film placement, outdoor advertising. We also connect designers and manufacturers with talent... photographers, media buyers, models.” I did not mention that Haute Shot's only real product was Katherine Keller.
The old man's eyebrow rose. “Models huh?” He grinned at Emile.
I shrugged. “All part of the package. Emile is corporate transportation and security chief. He makes sure the talent gets where they're needed and keeps them safe.” I smiled. Emile shot me a look. I think I just gave him a really big promotion. I just pulled the title out of thin air, but I thought it would impress the old guy. It seemed to have worked. He smiled at Emile.
“I'm sure he does. ...I mean Emile does.” he grinned.
Emile cleared his throat. “It is my name.” He muttered to the old guy, who just shrugged, still grinning.
“I know your name boy!” he smiled, enjoying Emile's discomfort. “...just seems so... formal.” Then he peered out the window to the kids sitting on the town car with a group of gawkers gathering around. And he did another conspicuous toe to top scan of Emile, looking dapper and imposing in his tailored suit. “Yeah. Emile suits the chief of corporate security.”
“And transportation..” I added in with a raised finger. Emile was getting embarrassed and I was enjoying this too much.
The old guy turned to Matt. “And you are?”
“Matt Cutler sir.” Matt reached out to shake hands and nearly toppled off his crutches. Emile shot to his side and steadied him.
“THOSE are the reflexes we pay him for!” I laughed. I think Emile was about to blush.
“And what do you do son?” the old guy asked Matt.
Matt stammered a bit. He was not prepared for the question.
“Well, until recently I was pre-med at UCLA on a full track scholarship.... but now...” he hung his head and stared at the cast on his leg.
“It's an intervention. Emi.... Milo and I...” I glanced to see if he was OK with me using that name, he seemed surprised but not terribly bothered. “We're trying to convince our friend here to stay in school and not give up on his dream.”
The old man nodded. “School's important.” He turned to Emile “Right?”
Emile fidgeted a bit and nodded.
“Right?” the old guy asked again more forcefully.
“Right.” Emile answered.
“You listen to him boy” he said to Matt cocking his thumb at Emile. “He knows a thing or two about not giving up.”
Matt nodded. The old guy, Jasper nodded too, with a 'that's settled' look. Then he turned back to Emile.
“So what on earth brings you back here after so many years boy?”
Emile scrunched up his face and looked at me. At that instant he looked like the 12 year old he once was, and not like the towering man he grew to be. I interrupted yet again.
“I asked Emi... Milo... if he had one last meal in L.A. and he was never going to be back, where would he go. And he took us here.” I smiled.
“Last meal?” Jasper looked a little confused. He turned to Matt “Looks like you just got a lame leg, and you're not a racehorse, so it can't be that serious.” He turned to me. “And you're thin as a stick, but you don't look sick.” Then he started to turn to Emile, his face clouding with concern.
I blurted out “It was my way of getting the truth out of him. If I asked for 'the best restaurant' or something, I knew he would go someplace he thought I would like. I wanted to find the place HE most wanted to go... so... 'Last Meal'...” then I held up a finger “IN L.A.....”
The old guy nodded and smiled. He walked over to the register and grabbed some menus.
“Well then, I guess the pressure's on ME.” he laughed. Then he turned to Emile with a look of pride and admiration, and I knew that he had been huge role model to young Milo.
We sat at a booth, Matt beside me and Emile opposite. Jasper set the menus out in front of us and looked apologetic.
“We're in a gray area. Lunch is done, and supper's not really started, but you folks let me know what you'd like and we'll see what we can do.”
I didn't even look at a menu. I just stared up at him and asked. “What's good?”
“Everything.” he shot back deadpan. I really liked this old guy.
I turned to Matt who was studying the menu, then to Emile, who was just eyeing me appraisingly.
“What do YOU recommend?” At this, Jasper folded his arms and looked at Emile sternly.
“Oh, NO!” Emile laughed, holding up his hands. “Anything I say, HE's going to say 'what's wrong with....' and name something else!” he cocked a thumb at Jasper, who smirked. Clearly that's EXACTLY what he was ready to do.
“OK.” Emile began again. “Ms Kell...” I kicked him under the table and when he glanced at me in surprise I mouthed 'KATHERINE!' ...”Katherine... is a vegan, so....”
It seemed to be my day for interrupting, so again I cut him off. “Wasn't always....” Emile, Jasper and Matt all looked at me. Matt knew I wasn't really Katherine, and I could tell by the look on his face that he thought I was going to blow my cover.
“Well, growing up on the streets, it wasn't always easy to find vegan dumpsters” I shrugged deadpan.
Jasper's eyes went wide. “YOU grew up on the streets?”
“Long story, but ….yeah. Until I got 'discovered' by a photographer. That's one way to get a model physique.” I shrugged. “Now I just keep a strict diet and work out hard.”
Emile nodded “She really does.”
“But special occasions call for bending some rules. Keeping with the whole 'last meal' thing, I think this qualifies as a special occasion. But please, don't go overboard and try to stuff me with chicken fried bacon or anything.”
Emile and Jasper exchanged a look.
“You still do hot mash?” Emile asked.
Jasper nodded. “Of course. Just like you remember. ...No. BETTER. Tweaked the batter about 8 years back. Never had a complaint.”
“Hot mash?” I asked Emile. He broke into a wide grin and nodded vigorously.
“Deep fried Okra and Jalapenos”
“Habaneros now” Jasper cut in.
“in this chipotle lime batter that's.....” he was groping for a word.
“Indescribable?” I offered. They both grinned and nodded.
I turned to Matt who gave me an 'I'm game if you are' shrug.
“Please.” I smiled.
Jasper grinned at Emile. “She's polite too? Never would have exp...”
Emile loudly cleared his throat. The old guy did a little bow and spun toward the kitchen.
“...and lots of cornbread too!” Emile yelled after him.
“..Please!” I added loudly holding my hand beside my mouth in an overt shouting gesture. Then I grinned at Emile “..at least someone is polite.”
The food was amazing. And eclectic. It seemed that everything was actually a mash. A mix of Mexican and other Latin dishes and ingredients jumbled up with Creole cooking and Kansas City Barbecue and even a version of Manhattan Seafood Chowder that Jasper called Bronx Chowder because it had a lot more ...attitude. I learned quickly that meant 'don't leave your spoon in too long or it will corrode'!
What it felt most like to me was Spanish Tapas, because I had just a taste of everything. I was quite aware that Dennis had dressed me for comfort after our night of power-clubbing, but the elastic waistband on these slacks were a rarity in Katherine's world, and unless I could squeeze in a triathlon or two before we left for Asia, I had better watch my calories. So it was just a tasting frenzy for me, although Matt and Emile had no problem finishing everything Jasper brought out.
While they were shoveling food into their mouths, Jasper regaled me with 'Milo stories', much to Emile's discomfort. Every time he would interrupt to tell his side of things, Jasper would hand him more food.
“Shut up and eat.” he grinned. “You have all the time you want to tell your version. Though it seems you never have. But I just have our time here to tell this lady the truth!” His smirk was devilish and full of love and respect for the now-adult man he watched grow up.
I learned how Milo and his little sister moved here from Detroit after his dad was killed in Lebanon. His mom came out to live with her sister in law, who offered her work at her nail salon. But that didn't work out for a lot of reasons, and Corinne and her two rug rats were on their own. She slung hash at various diners and such and fell in with Rosalie, another waitress with big dreams. They saved and bought a food truck. Rosalie had a lot of recipes and Corinne was a hard worker with a head for business. Corinne also liked it because her schedule was flexible enough that she could see her kids off to school and be home nights. Rosalie and Corinne hired their first employee, a former sous chef from Louisiana who came to California for reasons he never quite explained. Jasper.
He handled the rowdy night crowds hungry for something to balance the evening's alcohol before finally weaving their way home.
It was just the three of them for a few years, but Rosalie and Jasper were becoming more than coworkers. Apparently they got too successful, and after considering and rejecting a buyout offer they felt was insultingly low, they found their truck in the sights of the city health inspector, the DMV over their vehicle inspection and other sudden bureaucratic complications. After months of harassment and fines, they finally decided to kill the business rather than accepting the now even lower buyout bid. They chose instead to strip the truck, sell off the kitchen gear and sell the truck to a plumber. Even though Corinne and Rosalie were sole partners, they split their cash out with Jasper, because even though he had no money invested, he was key to their success.
Corinne took a 'straight job' with a temp agency and Rosalie and Jasper pooled their resources and bought the place we were sitting in. The two became like an aunt and uncle to Corinne's kids. Although Jasper sounded more like a surrogate dad.
Both kids had 'after school jobs' at the restaurant, although Emile butted in that they weren't really 'job jobs' - it was just a way for the grownups to keep the youngsters closely watched. Jasper laughingly conceded as much, but challenged Emile.
“It worked dinnit?”
Emile laughed and agreed. The neighborhood was kind of rough. There were a lot of distractions and temptations for young people with too much energy and ambition and too few opportunities.
“They hated this place” Jasper laughed. “But it kept 'em off the pipe, and off the streets.” then his face fell and he shot Emile a guilty look. He quickly moved on. “This guy ever tell you he was going to be a football star?” he grinned.
“So how did you end up slumming with supermodels?” I teased.
“Shattered hip.” he scowled. “Drunk driver while I was coming home from a varsity game. So long NFL.”
Matt nodded sullenly. I imagined his leg cast didn't seem so bad anymore.
“So I chilled out, healed up and got work doing security. It was good. Not too much physical activity, I just had to stand around and glare at anyone I thought might start trouble.” Emile laughed. “Good thing it always worked, because I moved like an old man.” Then he gulped and shot Jasper a nervous look.
The old guy just laughed. “You wished you could move like an old man! You moved like one a them zombie movies!”
Emile nodded. “Yeah. Took a long time to bounce back. But I did. And then I enlisted.”
“Enlisted?” I asked.
“Marines.” Jasper said. “Just like the old man. His mom was NOT pleased.”
Emile shrugged. “Wasn't a marine for long.”
Jasper laughed. “Yeah, you had to go and try to be a SEAL!”
“Would have been too....” Emile muttered.
“What happened?” Matt asked. I was relieved to see he was as wrapped up in this story as I was.
“Mom got sick.” Emile explained quietly. Jasper just shot him a look that said 'if you don't tell them, I will'.
“Glioblastoma. Uh, brain cancer. She was having headaches and dizzy spells but didn't tell anyone. Then one day she passed out at work and had a seizure. They rushed her to ER. Gwen - uh, my sister called me that night. They gave her only weeks. I got emergency leave and got home just in time. It wasn't weeks. It was days. ….it was...rough. I got a discharge, because my sister was still a minor and I was her only surviving family. It did not go well.”
“Well you threatened her friends.” Jasper smiled.
Emile barked. “Friends! Losers, gangbangers, thug wannabes, crackheads....” He shifted in his seat stiffening his back. “Damned right I threatened them.” then he sank down, deflated “...for all the good it did.”
Jasper patted him on the back. “You kept her off the streets and you kept her off the pipe. That was more than I thought anyone could do.”
“But I couldn't keep her safe.” he whispered, almost to himself.
“What happened?” I blurted. Emile just hung his head.
“I don't want to talk about it.”
“If you don't I will. Needs to be said.” Jasper said sternly.
“No! What's past is passed. Old wounds.” he glared at the old guy with some heat.
“Still festering.” Jasper glared back. “Air them out” he nearly ordered Emile, who still stared down at the table.
“That's why I never came back.” he kind of growled.
“Fine. That's the way you want it.” Jasper said firmly. “I'll do it.”
Emile shot him a look that would make anyone back off, but the old guy glared back just as hard and took a deep breath. As his chest filled, I noticed Emile's deflate.
“Gwen was a sweet girl. Bright, bubbly even. But she was always seeking approval from everyone around her, seemed she would do anything to fit in. Mostly these were foolish, harmless things. But then she started hanging out with the wrong crowd.”
“Losers.” Emile muttered. Jasper nodded.
“Pretty much” he sighed. “Her mom didn't know what to do with her. They fought like cats and dogs. She even got Rosa and me to try and talk with her.” he shook his head. “Of course, the only ones she was gonna listen to at her age were her friends.”
Emile snorted.
“When Corinne got sick, Gwen stepped up. She stayed home and took care of her moms until Milo got home.”
“Even then.” Emile muttered.
Jasper nodded. “But that was only a few days. Then she passed and Gwen took it hard.”
“We both did.” Emile said quietly.
“I know.” Jasper patted him on the shoulder again. “So the fights she always had with her mom, she now had with her big brother.”
“Yeah. But her friends were never scared of moms. I was ….more effective.”
“So she started sneaking around. Then she hooked up with this gang banger..”
“Wannabee” Emile spat.
Jasper nodded. “Yeah. I don't think even the gang bangers took him seriously. Still he was bad news. He used to hit Gwen but he was smart enough to never do it where Milo would see. We only saw the bruises after... I'm getting ahead of myself. Well, he treated her bad and the worse he got, the more she went back. He even got cocky enough to tell Milo off, although he had 20 guys with him at the time. Milo still chased him while the other guys laughed. But he got away. A few days later he was doing something stupid on the wrong block in a stolen ride when some guys pulled up beside them and unloaded on the SUV. He was just bloodied, but Gwen took it right through the windshield. The coward dumped her outside the ER and took off. She hung on for a few days until Milo gave them permission to pull the plug. He kind of snapped. Went to the gang bangers and told them that this boy was HIS and they were to stay out of it. The kid was never really one of them anyway, and they weren't crazy about the coward way he dumped the girl. They offered to help. He said he wanted to do it himself.”
“I said 'With my own hands'.” Emile muttered. I could see the pain and rage on his face. He was still not over this.
“I really thought he was going to piss away everything and end up in prison for murder one” Jasper said. “Lucky for everyone, the other gang got to him first. Milo stayed out of trouble.”
“Almost” he laughed bitterly.
Jasper grinned. “Yeah. There was that contempt of court when you thanked the defendants.” he turned to us smiling. “But the judge was disgusted by what came out in that trial too, so she let him off with a scolding. After that, he packed up and left.”
“I had no ties here anymore. Just bad memories.”
Jasper cleared his throat. Emile frowned.
“OK. FEW ties. I needed a change. So I knocked around. Ended up in Vegas. Worked security.... shuttling visiting celebs... well you know the rest.” He cracked a bashful smile.
I didn't know the rest, but obviously that was when he crossed paths with Katherine.
Jasper made small talk with Matt and myself. It was only when he told Jasper that I realized that Matt had lost his scholarship and was heading home not for a while but for good. That's when I started mentally scrambling for a way to keep him from giving up on his dreams.
A few customers drifted into the restaurant and Jasper excused himself to attend to them.
“So when exactly were you going to tell me you were dropping out of school?” I asked with some heat.
Matt fidgeted and muttered “I did sort of mention it.”
I scowled at him. He was not getting off that easily.
“Well, I explained about the injury and losing the scholarship and mentioned that I bought a bus ticket home.”
I continued to stare, giving him the unblinking 'Katherine eye'. This really was every bit as effective as Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth ...if much slower.
“...I just never mentioned that I wasn't coming back.”
I really wanted to lash out at him for his epicly bad choice, but I fought the urge and remained still and staring.
“...I mean... it's not like I want to give up on my dream.... it's just that.... I can't do it without the scholarship... and I....” he lowered his eyes and spoke quietly at the table top “...I have nowhere else to go....”
Emile shot me a look of great discomfort. I realized this was the wrong place to be having a heart to heart with Matt.
“We'll talk in the car.” I said sternly to Matt. He glanced up at me and nodded. I think he was expecting me to tear into him and was relieved that it would be in the privacy of the car.
Jasper noticed that our little soap opera moment was over and quietly returned, trying to tempt us with desert. I agreed – after Emile's insistence, on a house special coffee but no desert.
When Jasper gleefully went off to prepare it, Emile warned me what I was in for. Jasper came up with it years ago and jokingly called it 'Cafe Ole'. It was a little New Orleans, a little Cuban, a touch Thai and very, very Jasper. It was strong and thick and sweet. Hotter than the sun with a bite of cinnamon and smooth as suede with a dollop of honey and rich brown sugar. This thimble full of coffee was richer than any desert I ever had. Thank God it was served in a tiny espresso cup. A diner sized mug could probably kill someone. I insisted that the three of us indulge. Emile was eager, Matt wasn't thrilled at the concept but seemed resigned to his fate. By the second sip, he was sold. I got the feeling that the caffeine and sugar buzz quickly dispelled any self pity he was having over his school situation.
As we were preparing to leave, I asked Jasper for the check. He shook his head and said “Gratis”.
I shook my head back. “Absolutely not. This is a business lunch and on the company.” I stared him down. He was a stubborn old guy. I pulled the Haute Shot Amex card out of my purse and handed it to him. “We need every expense we can deduct. Do you know how much this company pays in taxes?”
He laughed. “OK. Now I want to take your money... but I still can't.” He shrugged at Emile.
“You STILL don't take plastic?” Emile was shaking his head with a mixture of disbelief and bemusement. The old guy just shot him a grin and a look that said 'what are you gonna do?'.
I grabbed the check and looked at Jasper. “OK. What if I send ...Milo...” I suppressed my smile at noticing out of the corner of my eye, Emile's discomfort at my use of his childhood name. “...back with cash? I don't want to spend all day washing dishes to pay off our meal. ….and if you don't trust us, we can leave collateral.” I grabbed and rattled Matt's crutches.
“Hey! I can't get around without those!” He cried out.
I shrugged, looking back to Jasper and crooking a thumb toward Matt. “....fine....” I said with a melodramatic sigh “...we'll leave him behind too.... as a hostage.” I barely managed to keep my poker face and I could see Jasper was having trouble too.
“Oh no you don't. You're not pawning him off on me.” he warned mightily fighting off a grin. “A school dropout with a game leg? Not a chance. You take him back where you found him. And if Milo doesn't come back with the cash, I'll come looking for HIM.”
We headed back out to the town car, where a small crowd had gathered. Emile, back in full security-guy mode, parted them like Moses. Matt and I followed in his wake. I went to help Matt, but he quickly and skillfully swung himself into the car as if he'd been doing this for years. He was a quick learner.
As I made my way around to my side and Emile holding my open door, I was barraged with questions. 'Who are you, lady?' 'What are you doing here?' that sort of thing, I smiled and replied 'having lunch' and cocked my thumb back at the diner towards Jasper looking out the window with amusement. The questions didn't stop, and they weren't all for me. A few recognized Emile and seemed contemptuous, making snide comments about him being too good for the neighborhood now and then the 'driving miss Daisy' comments started and began to snowball. I had to shut this down fast.
“He's not a driver. He's corporate security.” I got blank stares. “...bodyguard” I shrugged. THAT they got. I quickly added “please don't make him have to show anyone.” and flashed an awkward smile as the crowd backed off for just a moment, which we used to get in the car and began to pull out.
I couldn't resist. I rolled down the window. “Any further questions will be handled by my local public relations team...” and I shot a big smile to the two kids, who puffed up a bit and beamed back.
Emile was still chuckling as we pulled back onto the freeway.
“I suppose now I'm going to have to put them on the payroll” I mock sighed.
“Well, at least send them a company Christmas Card” he grinned into the rear view mirror.
Once we were on the freeway, I turned my attention back to Matt.
“Where can we drop you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “My dorm if it's not too much trouble.”
Emile nodded and changed lanes to head to UCLA.
“You're still living on campus?” I was surprised, thinking he was through with school.
“Till day after tomorrow. Then I catch the bus home with my tail between my legs.”
“Don't put it that way. You didn't fail.... you just caught a really bad break.” As soon as they left my mouth, I winced at my poor choice of words.
Matt snorted at the harsh pun. “All I know is that all those people who thought I was acting all superior going off and making something of myself... the ones who kept saying that I was nothing special and soon enough I'd be back, asking them for work at the stockyard or the plant... well... I'm about to prove them right.” The words were bitter in his mouth.
My mind was racing, but I wasn't sure where yet. Still, I asked. “How much stuff do you have to take home?”
Matt shrugged. “A couple duffels. My camera bag. A backpack with my laptop, ipad and stuff. I already sold my books back to the bookstore and got screwed.”
I nodded. Still thinking. “Do you have a passport?”
“...A pass.... uh.... NO....” he reacted as if I'd asked him if he owned an Emu. “Why would I have a passport?”
I wagged my head back and forth. “I don't know. Maybe a weekend in Tijuana with some pals from school.... or a trip north of the border when you lived back home?”
“Why would I want to go to Alberta or Saskatchewan? It's exactly just the same... only even colder!”
I dismissed it with a wave and a “Meh. Just asking.” As my mind recalculated.
Within a few seconds I had a revised plan. I turned to look Matt squarely in the eye.
“Is your bus ticket refundable?”
It took a little convincing. Not that Matt wasn't open to the idea. Just that he was wary. It seemed too good an opportunity... and seemingly out of nowhere.
“So let me get this straight...” he asked ….yet again. “....you're leaving for your Asian tour....”
“...with the cast of Thornbirds. Yeah. A press blitz. We've already terrorized North America, Europe and bits of North Africa. So yeah... we're off to blitz Asia next week.”
“And you want me to come along as ...staff photographer?”
“Only as far as Hawaii, passport boy” I grimaced. “Still, I think we can get you enough work and maybe some outside opportunities to cover another semester or two ...at least until you can heal up and try to talk them back into that track scholarship.”
“So you want me to cash in my bus ticket, call my Dad and tell him to pass the word that I'm not coming home.... that I've got a freelance gig and then I'm returning to school and paying my own way with the money I earned. That I don't need to borrow any from him or my insufferable brother in law... and I'm going to continue my pre-med studies?”
“That about covers it” I said dryly, fighting to suppress my smirk.
He kneaded his chin with his hand for a moment, trying to look ponderous.
“...And you don't already have a staff photographer?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know of. On the US & Europe tour it was just us, and a press and marketing team from the film company. They would get local freelancers when they needed.” I thought a moment and held up a finger “And, if they DO have a staff photographer, I'll say I want my own personal photo guy. Everyone was impressed by the work you did at the Ballgame and the Concert. It won't be a hard sell.”
“So. I leave my dorm and crash at your place....”
“You make it sound like you're sofa surfing. You check out of your dorm as scheduled, but instead of the bus depot, you join us on the plane. Hit Hawaii. We spend a few days and head west. You stick around a few more days if needed to wrap up any extra work we can round up and head to Monterrey and your waiting guestroom at casa Keller until you get paid for the gig and go back to school and that extravagant dorm living.”
“Why are you doing this?” Matt's skepticism was beginning to annoy me.
I looked at him with an expression that I hope projected 'Do you really have to ask?'
I held up my hand and started counting off fingers.
“Griffith Park.... The search... The FIND... Connecticut... The ballgame... The concert... ...and above all.... your discretion....” I reached out and took his hand. “You're a really decent guy... and I really-” I began to say 'like' but dodged at the last minute and said “-respect you”. Still, I was certain Matt knew what I was going to say by his look. That look was exactly why I didn't say it. It could be taken too many ways, and I wasn't ready to deal with the issues most of those ways would present.
Matt sighed melodramatically “Well, if it's that important to you.... sigh...” He actually said 'sigh!'
I broke into a laugh and he couldn't hold his own poker face. We were snickering like a couple of kids who had just cooked up a devilish scheme.
I caught Emile's furrowed brow in the rearview mirror. He tried to scowl, but quickly he was grinning too.
I didn't really have to work too hard to convince Dez to add Matt to the tour. I reminded him of the work he had done at the Hollywood Bowl show and the original UCLA 'bitch-off' between Bianca and me, and how the shots were buzzworthy, but not one was regrettable or embarrassing to any of the subjects.
“I understand you not wanting to pay him. Take it out of what you're paying me. He's so worth it.”
“That won't be necessary” Dez's voice was gentle. “I've learned to trust your instincts, and value your ideas.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence. And normally by now I'd be scared to death of letting you down. But not so much anymore.” I sighed.
“Oh really?” Dez seemed amused. “Why not so much anymore?”
“Because in a few weeks, I'll be home, Katherine will be back, and none of my crazy ideas can blow up in anyone's face. ….except my own.”
Dez's light mood was gone. After a long pause, he took a long, slow breath. He spoke quietly. Almost reflectively.
“Yes. Katherine will be back. And our relationship will be ….....completed.”
I flinched reflexively. As much as I had been thinking about... dwelling on it. Still, hearing the words stabbed at me.
Dez went on. “When I began to concoct this plan after meeting you in the lift, I knew I was being foolishly optimistic that anything so ambitious and ….extemporaneous... could succeed at all. But that outrageous faith has served me well in the past, so I took the leap. ….WE took the leap. And I daresay it has worked out to a degree and in ways we could scarcely imagine.”
I barked a laugh that was filled with such overwhelming, conflicting emotions, they could only come out as that short, sharp laugh. I pictured Dez breaking a small smile and knowing nod on his end of the phone.
“What I'm saying Ms McGuiness, is that first day in the lift, neither of us could have imagined the course of events that would lead us to this conversation now. So don't be so smug as to presume you know where you will be half a year from now. Or even a month from now. You're exceptionally gifted, but I daresay you're no psychic.”
I laughed again. But this time without conflict.
“I told you before, outside that meeting at your agent's …..Katherine's agent's..... that the world is full of possibilities. One chapter may be ending, but your whole life is ahead of you.”
I sighed. “I can't see anything topping, or even equaling this.” I was feeling like those girls who peak at prom queen and begin the slow steady slide that is the remainder of their long mundane life.
Dez chuckled. “You know how this town can't resist a sequel to a great success.”
“So you ARE going to do a Thornbirds sequel?” I teased. Dez groaned. “How about a prequel with an all-child cast, like Bugsy Malone. You could call it Thornchicks!”
“GoodBYE Elsie.” Dez laughed. “I'll see you on the plane. Tomorrow.” I could still hear him laughing as he hung up.
I could see the bleary faces pressing against the dorm windows as we waited for Matt.
Emile reached for his door, I think going to Matt and announcing our arrival was reflex. I reached from the back to put a hand on his shoulder.
“Just honk the horn.”
He turned and shot me an appalled look. I returned his dismayed face with my own impish grin.
“Honk it.”
He squirmed a bit. “It's really early. Are you sure....” I was surprised at his 'backtalk', but I guess he was feeling more comfortable with me after that last meal at Jasper's....something else I was leaving Katherine to deal with, I smirked to myself.
I furrowed my brow and tried to look all bossy-lady-in-the-back.
“Driver. Honk. The HORN.” I tried to say imperiously. But ruined it with a giggle.
“But....” he protested weakly. Then shrugged. Just as he was about to press his palm to the wheel, I barked “WAIT!”
I gleefully texted Matt: “Get a move on Hopalong. Daylight's wasting!” and hit send as I realized daylight was just a glimmer over the horizon.
“Now.” I nodded to Emile.
He tapped the horn twice, it let out two quick bursts like gunshots.
“Longer.” I grinned. I could sense Emile's discomfort and it only made me more mischievous.
I opened my door and before he could step out himself, I leaned through his window and leaned on the horn, letting it ring through the quiet canyon of buildings, then I began stabbing at it percussively, noticing to my glee as sleepy faces began to press against window after window.
Finally Matt hobbled out his door with various duffles backpacks and gym bags wrapped around him like an explorer during a sherpa strike. Emile nudged by me and rushed to Matt, grabbing as many bags as he could unwrap from Matt's frame. I stood by the town car, arms crossed, grinning and occasionally staring down the random glaring face in the sea of windows.
As Matt hurled himself into the passenger side, I stood by my door and loudly slapped the roof over Emile's head, catching his startle out of the corner of my eye, and gleefully shouting loudly enough to echo from the buildings “Driver! To Hawaii!” and ducking back in as Emile sped off.
“So much for a discreet pick up” Emile muttered. I could tell he was amused too.
“Was that really necessary?” Matt sighed to me.
“Well, if you had been quietly waiting out front, I guess we would not have had the excuse.” I grinned. “Thanks for oversleeping.”
“I was NOT oversleeping! I was just....” Matt realized I was just messing with him and slumped down in his seat.
“First thing to learn in this town...” I chided him, one finger in the air “...learn how to make an entrance.”
“But I was leaving...” he meekly protested
“...OR an exit...” I went on as if he'd interrupted me.
“OK. OK....” I went on as if I was improvising on the spot. Which I guess I really was.
“FIRST thing to learn in this town!” I held my finger back up and paused, daring him to interrupt me. He looked up at me and sealed his lips into a tight line. I caught Emile's crinkling eyes in the rear view mirror. “LEARN..... how to make..... an EGRESS!” And I mock glared at him. “All right? College Boy?”
Matt grinned.
“No one will forget you now! Even those who didn't even know won't forget you.” I grinned.
“So when you DO go back to school.... you will have a reputation.”
“As the guy who woke up the neighborhood?”
I held up my finger yet again nodding. “....who woke up the neighborhood to get into a limo with insane celebrity Katherine Keller and go to Hawaii.”
“Um. You told the DRIVER to take us to Hawaii.”
“What part of 'Insane Celebrity' didn't you understand?” I grinned.
Matt just sighed and shook his head smiling with me.
As we pulled onto the service road that led to the executive airport, I turned to Matt.
“Don't forget to buckle up.”
He looked out the window at the waiting Airbus and grinned. “We're almost there.”
“Not for this ride.” I shot him a wicked smile, cocking my thumb at the plane. “For THAT ride.”
He seemed perplexed. I shook my head.
“I'm not being clear. Not the plane. The TOUR. Our last two outings got a bit... wild.” I understated.
He nodded slowly, recalling the tabloid coverage he claimed he didn't follow.
“Well, I'm only going as far as Hawaii. It's just your first stop. How much can happen in just one stop?” he shrugged.
I just looked him in the eye. I wasn't trying to send any subliminal messages or dire warnings or anything. I was just recalling our past trips. Fetal Eoin on live network TV in New York, and that incident on the Graham Norton show at the start of our Europe swing, when I tried to do the Father Ted 'this is small and that is far away' gag with the toy sheep and the flock of sheep we snuck into the back of the studio, before they got loose and suddenly weren't so far away. I knew how first days could be, and I was sure it showed on my face. Matt just swallowed and nodded.
“So this is how the other half lives.” Matt laughed as he walked over to my seat after his quick tour of our chartered plane.
“Don't get used to it dropout boy” I laughed. “Remember you were this close to spending today on a bus.” I held my hand up fingers close together.
He nodded. “Still, I could get used to this.”
I shook my head. “Can't let yourself. Soon enough you'll be back to the real world.”
He nodded. I looked him in the eye and held up one finger. “We both will.” I said quietly.
He stared at me and shook his head, whispering. “You've been doing this for HOW long? How on earth are you keeping grounded?”
I furrowed my brow a moment and gazed away, trying to put it into words.
“I try to live in the moment. To fully commit to each moment. But when I am alone, I'm just as focused on being ….ME.... and remembering that soon enough I will be back to....” I was about to say 'my old life' but I instantly knew that was not it. “...back IN.... the real world.” I said quietly.
Matt nodded mutely. This was getting uncomfortable. I tried to lighten things up.
“Ever been to Hawaii?” I asked.
Matt shook his head. “Never been much of anywhere. Calgary a couple times. ...Wyoming... Had an uncle in Larame we spent one Christmas with. Chicago once in high school. And L.A. for school.” he shrugged.
I shrugged too. “I've never been either. Until this Thornbirds tour, I hadn't been anyplace either.”
Matt smiled. I think he was realizing that we were more alike than he first thought.
“What I learned on the US and Europe tour is, just roll with it. Act like it's an everyday thing and save you personal 'Holy !!!' moments for alone time. Act like you belong and you'll belong. Sell it. Be it. Commit to it.”
He nodded. I suspected he was just going along, not really understanding. I decided to use that.
“You've GOT it!” I exclaimed. He shot me a perplexed glare. I just grinned. “I KNOW you don't get it, but you're faking getting it really, really well.”
It took a moment, but finally he did get it. I could tell by his smile.
“Moment by moment, hon.” I smiled. He returned my smile and nodded.
“So I should get my camera?”
“You're asking me? This is why you sucked as a paparazzo.” I laughed.
Matt was pestering the rest of the passengers while I huddled with Dennis.
“This really is a favor, isn't it?” He asked.
“Think of it as a mitzvah.” I shrugged.
“I didn't know you were Jewish Ms McGuinnes” he grinned.
I shrugged again. “Just channeling Katherine. ...you know....”
He raised an eyebrow. “I've never heard her use the word Mitzvah.”
“You know what a Mitzvah is?”
Dennis nodded.
“You've never seen Katherine say it, but surely you've seen Katherine DO it.” I smiled.
Dennis held my gaze. I saw his eyes refocus as he recalled something ...or things. Then he was back to regarding me, and he gave me the warmest smile and a tiny nod.
“So. We have to dig up some work for Matt.” I got back to business.
Dennis shook his head. “No. We have to dig up some work for Katherine. She can play the bitchy starlet card and insist on her own photographer.”
I nodded sullenly. Yeah, Katherine was in demand. It was up to me to drag Matt along on 'my' gigs.
Dennis gazed off into thin air, obviously thinking things over. Slowly, a grin came over his face.
“I have an idea. A few actually. I have to work the phones and email for a while. With luck, we'll have some things firmed up by the time we touch down in Hawaii.” His eyes sparked.
Matt wasn't the only new face on the first leg of our trip. As we all assembled for the flight and exchanged greetings and welcome back hugs, Colleen McGlagan introduced her new Personal Assistant Nancy. Nancy Berube wasn't a professional personal assistant, she was actually Colleen's favorite niece. Nancy was taking a break from her grad studies at McGill to help Colleen as a personal favor.
Colleen admitted to me in a private conversation that the family had become worried that Nancy was beginning to burn out, studying all the time, seemingly not sleeping, since she would text and email at all hours of the day or night, and had pretty much cut out all non-academic events from her life. She was behaving more and more erratically, and the family had staged an intervention of sorts, claiming bureaucratic problems had prevented the school from being paid for her next semester, and requiring her to take some time off while the issues were resolved. Both her school counselors and immediate family believed this ruse was the only way to force her to restore balance in her life. Upon hearing of this, Aunt Colleen volunteered that a trip to Hawaii might be just thing.
So we had another new addition to our crew. A quiet, mousey girl, who I would soon learn, could easily out-Katherine Katherine.
I had little clue on the early introductions. I brought Matt around and reminded our Hollywood Bowl crew that he was one of the staff photogs, and he was coming along as my personal lensman. Once they were reminded of his Bowl work and Eoin gushed about his work at the BlueBalls guerrilla shoot, no one had any objection to him roaming around and grabbing candid shots. Except Nancy. Matt assured her that he respected her privacy and would keep her out of every shot. She shot him a distrustful stare, but everyone assured her that he was on our side, and had proved that repeatedly in the past. I'm sure she still didn't trust him, but she didn't want to buck the wave of acceptance and access absolutely everyone else gave to Matt – especially at her first introduction to everyone, so she pulled her lips into a pencil thin slit and nodded acquiescently.
Matt sat with us on the flight over. Dennis channeled his inner Charlie Rose and got Matt to talk about his upbringing in Montana, his family life, what brought him to LA and his plans for life. I recalled that Matt planned to be a psychologist, and hoped he was taking mental notes, because Dennis managed to extract an extraordinary amount of info from what seemed a genial conversation, without ever seeming nosy or intrusive. I always knew that Dennis was really easy to talk to, but I had never grasped the power of that talent until I watched him 'interview' Matt.
At some point Mikey got bored and turned the conversation to his adventures. Actually, our adventures – Katherine and 'her boys', galavanting around the world and getting into crazy mischief. Dennis politely backed off and Matt seemed genuinely interested. Mikey really is a gifted story teller, a talent that will no-doubt serve him well in a life filled with elevator pitches and social networking.
A few hours into the flight, Matt climbed into his crutches and excused himself to 'meet and greet' our other passengers. We weren't alone long. After about five minutes, a timid face began peering from behind the seatback.
Dennis saw her first and smiled warmly. “Hi! ….Nancy isn't it?”
Mute nod.
Dennis patted Matt's empty seat. “Come on girl, sit down and join us.” I could not shake the expression that he was trying to feed a peanut to a wary squirrel. He moved very slowly, seeming to take great pains to make no moves that would scare her off. His voice was soothing and inviting. I know he caught my subtle smile watching this stunning display of his skill. I thought to myself that Dennis could not just be a psychologist, he could also probably work well with feral animals and would-be ledge jumpers.
Wary is inadequate to describe Nancy's demeanor. I could see in her eyes that she was far from her comfort zone. I think Dennis sensed it too. But we both realized, and Dennis somehow managed to convey, that in this whole unfamiliar scary scenario aboard the plane, that somehow the seat he was gently patting was perhaps the least threatening place.
It worked. She gingerly sat, eyes darting from Dennis to Mikey to me. As if waiting for someone to lunge, her arms and legs seemingly poised to flee. Dennis and I made no sudden moves. Mikey utterly ignored her, poking at his iPad. Eventually she settled in and her guard dwindled ever so slowly, like a boiling cup of tea slowly going tepid.
“So girl, Nancy is it?” Dennis smiled. “Welcome to the tour. Tell us about yourself.”
Nancy squirmed, cast her eyes down. “Nothing to tell really.” she mumbled.
“Nonsense.” Dennis replied genially. “Everyone has a story. Let's hear yours. How did you find yourself on a plane headed to Hawaii with this bunch of misfits?”
A smile sneaked onto her face before she damped it back to her dour demeanor. I saw her eyes do something when Dennis said 'misfits'. And thought that might be a key to this tightly wrapped girl.
“School problems” she shrugged as if it were describing something unavoidable like an earthquake or being hit by lightning.
Dennis had already chatted with Colleen and knew more than he let on, but he played innocent.
“Oooh. Do tell! Sorority prank gone horribly wrong? Did they find you drunk and passed out in the dean's office wearing the school mascot costume?”
Nancy laughed despite herself and barked “Hardly!” Then she got back her depressed demeanor and returned her gaze to the floor. “Tuition problems.”
Dennis slapped her forearm gently. “Get OUT! How can that be. You people are LOADED!”
That got Nancy's attention as she stared at Dennis with bewilderment and was about to say something when he plowed on.
“....well, at least your famous AUNT is!...”
Nancy grinned, finally realizing Dennis' tease.
“So she couldn't pay to keep you in school, but she could pluck you away to be her personal minion as she jetsets around the world on her private plane?”
Nancy was actually laughing by now. “No. No... it wasn't like that at all. And it wasn't really about the money. It was there... but wires got crossed and paperwork got messed up and by the time it was sorted it was too late for the upcoming semester.... so I was at loose ends and moving back home, until Aunt Colleen suggested a more ….interesting.... way for me to spend my time off.” And her eyes locked on ME.
Dennis saw it too but didn't let on. “So, hon. What were you studying?”
“Postgrad psych. I'm determined to go all the way to my Doctorate, but I'm still working on my Masters, and I'm figuring out my focus. And I think I've found it. I'm fascinated by abnormal psych.”
All the while she was telling Dennis this, her eyes remained riveted on me. It was clear to me that she was not looking at me as a participant in this conversation, but more like an intriguing object she could not stop examining. It was also clear that she chose wisely becoming a psychologist, because she would make a terrible professional gambler or spy. I wondered if she had any idea how transparent she really was.
“Have you spoken with Matt?” I asked. Visibly startling her when I spoke. I imagined that to her it was as if one of her lab specimens suddenly decided to strike up a conversation.
“Huh? ...Who?”
I wasn't sure if she was simply startled or didn't know his name.
“Camera boy.” I said in Katherine's deadpan, inclining my head slightly in his general direction. “You two have a surprising amount in common” I said without inflection, while thinking to myself about the ways they were also so supremely different, but knowing that Matt would find her many obvious eccentricities fascinating, and may distract her enough to keep her off my ….Katherine's.... case.
She stared at me with disbelief. “In common? Hardly.”
I just gave her the long cold unblinking Katherine stare. It takes an excruciatingly long time, but it always works.
“Like what?” she finally asked, curiosity (and the need to say something after the long pause) finally overriding her doubt and scorn.
“You're the psych major.” I replied calmly. “Talk to him and find out for yourself.”
Nancy was visibly annoyed. But it was just as obvious she was intrigued at my challenge.
“We'll see about that!” she said with some heat and burst from her chair to go find Matt.
“Annnnnnnd..... she's gone.....” Dennis snorted. He glanced to me with a sly grin. “The trick to being a master puppeteer is subtlety and restraint. Girl, your strings are showing.”
“No.” I replied, trying to restrain my smile. “HERS are showing.... and they're not so much strings as ropes.”
“Well, just because they say 'jerk me' in big red letters doesn't mean you have to”
“Couldn't resist” I shrugged. “Didn't want to once she started talking about abnormal psychology and started eyeing me like a hungry dingo.”
“Oh, you caught that?” Dennis grinned.
“HELEN Keller would have caught that!” I muttered. Dennis choked back a laugh.
“Yeah. Good thing she's not planning on being a professional gambler.” he smiled.
“It's scary sometime how we think alike” I grinned. “Still, I hope she goes into research, because if she becomes a retail shrink, the patients will be analyzing her!”
I said it lightly, but something tickled in my mind and I wondered if her lack of guile and how easily Dennis and I distracted... okay... manipulated her... had anything to do with why her family pulled her out of school.
While it had been my hope, I never actually expected that Matt would successfully distract Nancy, but that's what actually happened. It was a great surprise and relief to everyone else on the plane.
I was trying to doze in my chair when Colleen slipped into the seat beside me.
“Am I disturbing you?” she whispered.
I shook my head and opened my eyes. “Not at all. I was just thinking.”
Her brow hiked and her mouth quirked. “Thinking? ...or scheming?”
I didn't rise to her tease. “You aren't disturbing me.”
She nodded her head in the direction of Matt and Nancy who were huddling a few metres away.
“That photographer of yours.....” she left the statement hanging. I simply nodded.
“Who is he? How well do you know him? What's his story?”
I thought for a moment. More for effect. I knew what Colleen was trying to get at in her own roundabout way, but I knew she would only be placated if we traversed her own oblique path. My pause made my eventual response seem the result of deep thought and reflection. Maybe I could take a few shortcuts in getting to what she really wanted to know.
“I think you heard about his work at the ….Blueballs Incident...”
Colleen nodded and blushed. I took great satisfaction that I wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the name.
“I had run into him before. Literally. I was on a run and he was in a group of paparazzi outside my hotel. I had a plan..”
“I'll bet you did!” Colleen blurted with a wicked grin, which immediately turned to embarrassment at interrupting, and she pursed her lips contritely, motioning for me to go on.
I continued unfazed “Well, the plan mostly worked... except for the flash there” I cocked my head toward Matt and caught Colleen's grin. I was feeling more comfortable wielding Katherine's deadpan humour and I thought I was doing it rather well.
“After a few miles of cat and mouse, it was clear neither of us was winning. He wasn't getting his photo and I wasn't shaking him off. So we called a truce and had a little detente over smoothies. That's where I learned he came to town on a track scholarship.”
Colleen snorted. I simply nodded in assent. “I know, right?” I looked off into space for a moment and I'm sure she thought I was deciding how to phrase what came next, but it was really just for effect and pacing.
“While the track scholarship was paying his way, his true purpose was to pursue a psychology degree.”
That had the effect I'd hoped. Colleen hadn't seen that coming and I now had her full attention.
“He had mentioned some people he had encountered growing up on the barren northern plains. I had no idea there were so many cults and militia compounds up there. People wanting to escape from the scrutiny of nosy neighbors. ….lotta cults....” I nodded, seemingly to myself. “Matt had seen the effect on the people and the families they dragged along. That's what got him into his interest in a psych major. I don't know whether he's going to be a PTSD counselor or a cult de-programmer, but that's his goal, and his passion. Getting broken people healed and back into the wider world.”
Colleen stared at me wide eyed.Then she stared off in the direction of Matt and Nancy.
“Her parents were at their wits end. She was always a diligent student and a good girl. ….maybe a little too good.... I don't think that girl ever let her hair down..... well, when she moved to school, she dove into her studies. She kept taking on more and more, and even extracurricular volunteer lab work. Her work wasn't really suffering, but her behaviour became more and more ….erratic. She would call home at 3 in the morning and start babbling to whoever answered about some epiphany she just had working in the lab. She seemed to be working for days without sleep, and her parents were getting concerned. They reached out to her professors, who assured them of her talent and work ethic. It came as quite a surprise to her teachers how many other oligations she had taken on that they were unaware of. That spawned a meeting of all her professors and lab supervisors who compared notes and finally realized what an unhealthy workload she had taken on. When they spoke with her parents, they agreed that an immediate intervention was critical.
My sister was distraught about the situation and figured that since I was in show business, I would know how to stage a successful intervention.”
I snorted. “Intervention is easy. Successful.... much trickier”
“You should know” she grinned. Then immediately looked mortified. I just shrugged it off.
“So, Nancy's mother calls you asking how to stage an intervention....” I tried to get her back on track.
Colleen nodded. We put our heads together and came up with the glitch with the burser. Her professors thought it was a good excuse. Seemingly no ones fault, just one of those things that will be worked out, but it will take time and force her to take a semester off. We weren't sure just coming home and cocooning in her old room would be enough of a break to snap her out of her obsessive behaviour, so I volunteered to take her with us as my personal assistant. We thought that extreme break from her old habits might snap her out of this.... alarming behaviour. She's never been much of a people person....” Colleen laughed reflexively. No doubt she was struck, as I was, at Nancy's choice of psychology, since she seemed to have little desire to interact with people.
“To say I was startled to see her spend time with your photographer.... especially since she has always been especially shy around young men her own age.... well, I just....” she seemed lost for words, but I could see relief in her eyes that finally Nancy was talking with someone.
“Maybe knowing a little about his background helps explain it.” I ventured.
Colleen nodded. “Jesus, Katherine. How the hell do you do it?”
I was genuinely perplexed and she read it on my face. Hers broke into a warm grin.
“When I saw birds at the premiere...” she whispered “...it was even more excruciating than I had imagined. I thought 'oh christ, we'll never get this stain off our CVs... and we're committed to go on the road and flog this albatross. I was really dreading that.”
I nodded. I remembered the premiere, which seemed so long ago. But I understood her distress.
“Then that dinner theater improv at the Sockolov's party ….that was improv? I never asked. You and Kirk never....”
I shook my head. “God NO! If he had any idea what we were about to do to his music he NEVER would have gone along with it!”
Colleen grinned broadly “THAT was when I began thinking we just might get through this with our careers intact. Still, I never imagined what was in store. And the soundtrack recording. That was your idea too?”
I shook my head. “Corporate's. They smelled unharvested money.”
She nodded. “And the Hollywood Bowl thing?”
I scowled. “Guilty. It seemed an easy way to take it to the next level. And I had ...a personal agenda....”
She smirked. “Bianca DeMedici” I nodded deferentially.
“That seemed to work out well for everyone involved.”
I shrugged.
“SO. My point is, all along, whenever you get your long bony fingers into things....” she paused until she was clear I knew she was teasing “things end up careening in unexpected directions.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but she stopped me with an upheld finger.
“...BUT always better, directions. Unimaginable directions. But always better than the way things would have gone without your ….meddling.” she grinned. “And now, you drag along the one person who seems to be able to reach my niece and maybe, maybe draw her out of her private little unhealthy world.”
“That's presuming an awful lot.” I protested.
“Maybe so. But I took her along because her family didn't know what else to do with her. And honestly, I didn't know what I was going to do with her on this trip. But that question is already sorting itself out.” She glanced in the direction of Nancy and Matt with a look that betrayed affection and relief.
“So, I just wanted to say Thank You. For everything. …..and to.... apologize.” her eyes fell to her lap. “....for all those things I said when they signed you to do the movie.”
“Why?” I replied in Katherine's deadpan. “They were all true.”
She blurted out a laugh and went bright crimson, squeezed my hand tightly and excused herself to rejoin Eoin, Cyril and Dez.
I was finally beginning to doze when I heard the loud PLOP in the seat beside me and raised an eyelid to see a grinning Matt Cutler.
“Oh my God. I thought I was through with school for a while, then you drag me onto a six hour flight with a subject who qualifies as a graduate study!”
Still acting half-awake, I replied “Well, she IS a graduate student, and you seem to be studying her quite intensely.” Matt snorted. I opened both eyes and turned to face him. “What are you doing here? I thought you two were inseparable.”
Matt grinned. “Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. I thought the caffeine might calm her down – like Ritalin. And even if that didn't work, eventually her bladder would grant me a break.”
“You are a devious young man.” I said, head back and eyes again closed. I heard his laugh.
“Congratulations by the way. You seem to have found the secret combination. Her family and folks at her school have been trying to get her to open up for weeks and failing. They were really getting anxious because she was just becoming more closed and.....”
“Crazy?”
“Is that a term you learned in psych?”
He did not take my bait.
“Well, it's a term the lay person might understand, however inaccurate and stigmatizing.”
“Yet succinct?” I tried to remain expressionless and seemingly dozing, but Matt could hear the smile in my voice and I caught the grin in his.
“I would not dispute that hypothesis Dr Keller.”
“So, how did you manage to open Pandora's Mind?” I asked dryly.
Matt exploded in a single laugh that I'm sure drew the attention of the whole cabin. I was still feigning rest. Eyes closed, head back. I gave him a while, whether to compose his response or just wait for the attention of others to wander, I didn't know or care.
“You uh.... you have a way with words..... I had the hardest time getting her to even pretend to be civil. Since she was clearly not going to talk, I did. She seemed to be politely enduring listening to me, but I could tell she was starting to pay more attention. When I talked about school, and leaving school, I definitely had her attention. But she seemed really suspicious. She grilled me like an inquisitor and finding no holes in my story, conceded that it could be true. When I asked her how or why I would make it up, she hesitated then finally conceded that it seemed too close to her own story, and she was pretty certain that she was being manipulated by her parents or her aunt or even by some unseen cabal at her university. I understood, being a psych major long enough to know that often things aren't what they appear, but I also reminded her that trying to discern actual agendas could be an exercise in paranoia, especially if there actually was no hidden agenda, so the mind works extra hard trying to fit random things into some semblance of sinister order.”
“I think I finally out-psyched her.” He grinned. “She conceded that my situation bore too many parallels to hers to be coincidence. But since she couldn't figure out the how or why of this subterfuge, she would set it aside and take my story at face value. She finally opened up a bit and started talking about herself. I was struck as well at how many seemingly random things we had in common, and conceded that if the tables were turned, I would be suspicious too. This seemed to placate her, and she began to relax a bit. I'm just starting out on the psych track, but she's been doing this for half a dozen years. Some of the stories she was telling me about labs she had been involved with.... wow, they really messed with her. She learned a lot, but there was a lot of residual, permanent change. Her world view was shifting. The ways she knew they messed with her just made her wonder about the ways they were still messing with her that she hadn't yet twigged to. Between volunteering to be a serial test subject for extra credit, and her studies of genuinely abnormal subjects for other lab projects, combined with a startling empathic streak that she seems unable to switch off, she was getting far far too wrapped up in the world of abnormal psyches and losing touch with reality. Or as she put it the 'so called normal' world. She was diving deep and saw the only way out as diving deeper instead of backing out. She was on a bad, bad path..... which has been put on hold by this trip. But her goal is still deeper down the rabbit hole.”
“So how are you going to coax our Alice out of the rabbit hole?” I smiled.
“Still working on that. But I think we've identified the issue, and that's a critical start.”
“So you said you were going to school so that someday you could help trauma victims, cult members and the like....”
Matt blew out some air. I still had my eyes closed but could hear the humour in his voice.
“Yeah. That was always the goal, but I thought I'd finish my studies first.....”
“Life doesn't really give a damn about your plans or agenda. No one know that better than me.”
He laughed and placed his hand over mine. “I guess I better just play it by ear.”
“Always worked for me.” I said quietly. “All you really can do anyway.”
“I hear that.” He pressed his hand over mine. “Thanks for the pep talk... and wish me luck.”
“Already have it. ….or you'd be on a bus in North Dakota right now.”
He laughed as he slid out of the seat. “Pleasant dreams Katherine.” he said as he slipped down the aisle.
Dreams were never my goal. I was wracking my brain trying to find projects to get Katherine – and her photographer – some outside work.
I actually managed to doze before we hit Hawaii. I found myself resisting Dennis' gentle nudge. Then his annoyingly coy whispering – blowing actually – in my ear. I was too sleepy to recognize his playfulness, so at the time it only registered as mild annoyance. I kept trying to flick his face from my ear as he blew into it like a roadie testing a microphone.
“Helooooo. Yoo hoo..... Earth to sleepyhead..... wakey wakey.....” blow blow blow. Nudge nudge nudge. “Rise and shine baby. We're here.” I felt him lean in really close as he whispered “Time to get laid.”
THAT worked. My eyes shot open and I sat bolt upright in my chair as I felt the blush burning in my face, and turned to face Dennis.
He exploded in laughter. “Ohmigod girl! If you could see your face!” He gasped out through his guffaws.
I glanced around the cabin to see everyone gathering their things and taking a moment to look curiously at us. It was obvious they knew Dennis had pranked and startled me, but they seemed not to know or care about the details, and quickly turned back to their gathering.
“What?” I hissed.
Dennis just shot me the most wicked grin.
“Girl I've been nudging and shaking and poking you for over 5 minutes. You did not want to wake up. Now I know all it t....”
“What did you say????” I kind of whispered, kind of hissed. There was more heat in my question than I intended, but Dennis took it in stride.
“I said ...time to get lei-d.” He replied with a goofy grin. He could tell from my bewildered stare that I still didn't get his little joke, which only seemed to delight him more.
“Come on babe”, he said nonchalantly as he handed me my bag and started up the aisle. “Time to get welcomed to Hawaii.”
As it turned out – to Dennis' great disappointment, there was no welcoming committee with flower garlands. Just a bunch of studio suits and their drivers as we debarked at the corporate hanger and boarded the limos to our hotel.
“I thought there were always hot Polynesian hunks and babes to welcome visitors to Hawaii with flower leis.” Dennis whispered as we rode to our hotel. He seemed a little upset.
“Someone has been watching too many movies.” Mikey grinned at him.
“Maybe they do that for the tourists.... or at least with package tours?” I offered. “We traveled for business on a chartered jet. We didn't get lei-d. We just got suited.” I grinned.
He sagged a little. And I brightened.
“Well, if they thought we were lawyers, maybe we could get courted if not outright lei-d.” I grinned.
Dennis groaned and rolled his eyes.
“Look if it means that much to you, I'll have the driver stop on the way to the hotel so you can go and get lei-d.”
His grin was back and I could tell he was finally getting tired of this joke.
“Thanks for the offer, but I don't need your help.” He smirked.
“No, really.” Mikey interjected. “After what she did to Eoin in Atlanta, I'm sure she could....”
..and I slapped my hand over his mouth. It was meant as a comical gesture and he seemed to realize that. It had the desired effect. Dennis laughed.
“Oh my God. I totally forgot about that!” Dennis drew himself back in mock offense. “What horrible things do you have planned for that poor boy on this leg of the tour? Are you going to sacrifice him to a volcano god? Take him to a Thai brothel? Make him wrestle a Sumo on a Japanese gameshow?” he smirked at me with one raised eyebrow.
“All good ideas.” I grinned. “Some of which I hadn't even thought of... Michael, are you getting this down?”
Mikey beamed at me, nodding and tapping his finger to his temple indicating that he was taking mental notes.
“Of course, I'll make sure you get all the credit.” I deadpanned to Dennis. “I believe in creative attribution.” I couldn't completely hold back my smile, which cracked through my stoneface.
“Oh, no no no no no you don't” Dennis laughed. “Katherine is a force of nature..”
“Hurricane Katherine” I interrupted, nodding.
“...but the rest of us mortals need to behave ourselves. We can't go getting our fingerprints on anything! We have to work in this town!” he laughed.
“Okay, okay” I held up my hands in mock surrender. “You can keep your burglar gloves on. No prints. ….Still..... Do you think we could arrange for someone to be waiting in Eoin's hotel room when he arrives, to make sure he knows Katherine paid out of her own pocket to make sure that HE got lei-d?”
Dennis shot me a conspiratorial smirk as Mikey handed him the phone.
Dennis quickly arranged for Eoin's awkward welcome, the contacts he had been talking with about getting work for Katherine and Matt had recommended a local girl who had modeled for them before. Like many starving artists, she modeled, busked with her boyfriend, acted where she could and even took the occasional gig as tour guide, so they were sure she would be game for the gig.
….Once we convinced her that she wasn't the one being pranked.
It took a three way call with Dennis' friends Andy and Rei, who she knew, as well as Dennis and eventually me. She refused to believe she wasn't being set up and demanded to talk with Katherine. I don't think she actually expected it to happen. Certainly not for Dennis to simply hand me the phone.
“Hi!” I turned to Dennis with a slightly lost look on my face and that wavelength thing worked again, just as I had hoped. He mouthed her name, “Mae, is it?”
“Uhhh. Uh huh.” She replied, somewhat stunned.
“Katherine.” I chirped cheerily. “Katherine Keller.”
Long pause and the sound of breathing into her phone. I figured she wasn't sure how to react and was frantically sorting out what to do next. She obviously never imagined I'd be sitting right next to Dennis as he tried to recruit her for this prank, or that he'd simply hand me the phone. Time to put her out of her misery.
“I really hope you can help us out with this little joke. Sorry for the short notice, but it just came to us as we got off the plane. You see we're in Hawaii as part....”
“Uhhh.... I know. I saw online. The first stop on your...uh...” then she laughed. “Oh, GOD. I don't have to tell YOU! You're doing it.... umm, yeah. I know....” she said, beginning to get flustered again.
“Well, what you may not know is that on our previous tours, this ….sort of ...ritual.... has grown between Eoin McClure and....”
And she exploded in a laugh.
“Oh, GOD! How could I NOT know!??? Even my great grandma knows... and she doesn't even know what year it is!” She fought to regain her composure. I could picture her blushing furiously at the thought of laughing in Katherine Keller's face.
“OK. Good.... so, we'd like your help with this. As I said, sorry about the short notice, but we just thought of it as we got off the plane and we're putting it together in the car to the hotel. It's simple enough. I'm assured we have enough time to pull this off.” I looked to Dennis and he nodded with a grin.
“Uhhh... sure. I'm in. You're really just pulling this all out of....”
“...thin air.” I quickly completed her sentence, having this sudden hunch she was about to go anatomical. “Yes. One or two elaborate things require planning, but usually, an opportunity just presents itself. When we got off the plane at the executive hangar, someone aboard...” I shot Dennis a look and was rewarded with a shy blush “..expressed disappointment that we didn't get the stereotypical tourist greeting... SO... we began thinking that at least Eoin should get a welcome.... a seemingly private and overly awkward welcome... in his hotel room. While his costar, pal and sometime partner in ...extracurricular activities....” I shot Dennis and Mikey a grin which they returned, pleased that I was being appropriately vague. “...well, Katherine with a press crew in tow would go to fetch her leading man for an impromptu moment with local media... only to find Eoin awkwardly fending off this eager local...”
“Me.”
“Uh huh.” I giggled. “...there to make sure he gets his welcoming lei... Which he'll completely misunderstand.”
“Uh... what makes you sure he'd be awkwardly fending me off? Especially if he thinks it's a ...private... welcome.” She asked worriedly.
“Trust me, sweetie. I'm certain. He's been pranked enough that he'll suspect that he's being set up for something, but we'll pull it off before he figures out how. He will act as if he's on hidden camera. He will be the model of propriety and restraint, which is why you will have to work extra hard to make it look embarrassing when we bust in. It will be totally safe. He will try to run away from you.”
I let her think for a moment, then went in for the close.
“Of course afterward I will own up to the prank and how I talked the local girl into it. And you can now put playing a scene with Eoin McClure and working with Katherine Keller on your resume. ….BUT... if you don't trust me, can you maybe recommend someone else? We're really short on time.”
I could hear the resolve in her voice and pictured her head nod “I'm in. What do you need me to do?”
I handed the phone back to Dennis and he quickly went over the ruse, told her who to ask for at the hotel to be let into Eoin's room before he arrived and walked her through the gist of what we had in mind. She seemed confident she could improvise the scene. We told her what time we would barge in with the press and she hung up to fetch her props and go to the hotel.
Dennis continued working the phone on our ride to the hotel.
“This would be so much easier if I could just call...” he muttered to himself while he stabbed away at his phone.
I shot him a glance. I'd been wondering the same thing myself. He caught my glance and quickly darted his eyes to Matt. Ah. He didn't want to be obvious that we were trying to round up some work for him.... I mean some shoots for me.
I flashed Dennis a grateful smile and he nodded. We were both on the same team here. After Matt's help finding Katherine, I knew Dennis would have done anything he could for Matt even if I hadn't asked.
Mikey was busy staring out the window acting like our as-seen-on-TV-tourguide.... pointing out filming locations. “Ohmigod! That's where they shot that Magnum P.I. Where Higgins....”
“Went to Hawaii?” I asked innocently.
Mikey shot me a glare of scorn and disbelief. “They were ALL shot in Hawaii!” His voice dripped contempt.
“Oh.... MAGNUM P.I.” I said stonefaced.
Dennis snorked and you could almost see the cartoon bulb light over Mikey's head when he realized I'd been messing with him. He blushed. Shot me a dismissive scowl and went back to calling out landmarks. I caught Matt's crinkled eyes and knew he was wondering if this was our normal interplay. I think he knew from my tiny smile the answer to that unspoken question.
So our ride to the hotel was filled with the quiet sound of Dennis tapping on his phone, Matt fiddling with his camera, Mikey calling out random names for no apparent reason, and my continued chuckling as he did so.
“Hawaii 5-0!” He'd exclaim and point.
“Original or reboot?” I'd quietly egg him on.
“New one” he'd nod. “I don't think that building was there in the 1970s, so maybe they shot the original at whatever was there before. ….Ooh ooh! Brady Bunch Hawaii special!” he exclaimed, nearly bursting with excitement.
“Calm down Arnold.” I teased.
“Arnold?” Matt raised an eyebrow while Dennis laughed to himself, still working his phone.
“Horshack” Mikey glowered. “Very funny cuz.”
I smirked.
“Cuz?” Matt asked.
Oh crap. I saw Mikey go red as we both realized we were getting maybe too relaxed around Matt.
“I can't get used to that Australian slang either” I said, trying to sound casual. “Still, I'm trying to.” I glanced at Mikey's wide eyes, knowing he'd stepped in it too and hoping I could make it go away quickly. Matt knew I was a Katherine Keller ringer, but not much beyond that. He certainly didn't know I was Australian or my relation with Mikey.
I laughed. “Still, it's better than 'Ooh – ooh'!” I croaked out, mocking Mikey's earlier outburst.
He mock scowled at me as Matt laughed. I could see the relief in his eyes that Matt had already put it behind him as just so much more of our weird familiar banter.
“Any more famous landmarks?” I asked hoping to get back to our earlier trivial banter.
Mikey nodded to me, glad to be back to our earlier routine. “Uh. I think that was in 50 First Dates.”
“Think? Wiki-boy?”
He held up a finger. Uh oh. Here it comes. “You know Wiki is a Hawaiian word. It means....”
“Macht Schnell” I derailed him. His face fell and he mock glared at me.
“Showoff” he muttered, and returned his gaze out the car window.
Then I heard the click.
I turned to see Matt, camera up, and a silly grin on his face.
“Sorry” he said, not sorry at all. “I was just watching this back and forth and thinking how great it was and suddenly I realized I had this in my hand and you so distracted me I completely forgot.” He flashed a sheepish smile. “I hope you don't mind.”
“Depends” I mock scowled. “We're not going to see these in some tawdry tabloid or anything.”
Matt grinned. “Not unless one of you decides to moon someone. Both of you would be better.”
Mikey shot me a devilish grin.
“In your dreams ...CUZ...” I said the last very affectedly as if I were trying to use 'his slang' to mimic him. I think Matt bought it and Mikey picked up exactly what I was doing and why, but still smiled at the double meaning.
“There are better ways to become famous. Trust me.” I smiled. He grinned, nodded and returned to looking out the window.
“So, why the candid photos?” I inquired. I was trying to be curious and not defensive.
“You don't mind, do you?” Matt asked.
I just gave him an unblinking Katherine stare. I wanted an answer, not another question. Eventually he buckled.
“I just.....” He looked at me, and I felt like I was under a microscope. It was a very intense gaze. “I know we're here for a few days, and then you're moving on, and I'm going back.... and thanks again for giving me a place to crash until I can get back to school....”
I dismissed it with a casual shrug.
“....I was just thinking about that day we met in the park...” he continued, gathering his thoughts as he went. A stupid grin broke out on his face. “...and how you ambushed me at school... and all the other stuff... and yeah, I got some great shots, but it was all work..... to sell.... and I thought after we split up here... well.... what are the odds we'll ever cross paths again?”
“Stranger things have happened” I replied in Katherine's monotone, surprising even myself.
Matt laughed. “Yeah. And I've been witness to a lot of them....” Then he got somber again. “But I feel like I've been on this crazy winning streak and I need to know when to fold and walk away.... so...” He waggled his camera in his hand. “so this... these.... are just for me.... kind of a souvenir....” and he looked up at me sheepishly as if finally seeking permission.
“All you had to say was 'For me' y'know” I smiled. “But the rest was nice too.” I gestured in a 'go ahead' motion, and Matt raised his camera again.
“You guys don't mind, do you?” I asked Dennis and Mikey, suddenly realizing it wasn't my sole permission to give.
Dennis smiled to Matt. Mikey looked a bit perturbed.
“Just your personal stuff? No chance to get in a tabloid or scandalous website?” he challenged Matt, who smiled and shook his head 'no' with an apologetic shrug.
“Relax wonderboy” I laughed. “You're just breaking into the biz. You'll have plenty of opportunity to humiliate yourself in the press.”
This snarky rebuke actually seemed to mollify Mikey, who flashed me a grateful smile and returned to his sightseeing.
“So what's the grand plan minion o' mine?” I playfully teased Dennis. He broke off staring at his phone to glance at me.
“Ummm.... settle into your suite at the hotel.... publicly humiliate Eoin....” he flashed a devilish grin “... decompress and unwind for a few hours... then suck up to suits.”
I raised an eyebrow. This was the first I heard about sucking up to anyone.
“Suits? …..What suits?”
“Corporate suits. It's their annual executive retreat. VPs & division heads from all over the world converge for twice yearly management retreats. This time it's 12 days in Hawaii. And....what do you know... the cast and producers of their biggest property this calendar year just happen to be stopping off for a few days as the start of their Asia tour.”
“What a convenient coincidence!” I smiled. Dennis squelched his laugh. “So. About this ….sucking up....”
Dennis glanced at me, his mouth quirking up into a smirk.
“Whom exactly.... are we....” I looked him in the eye “....upsucking?”
He bit his lip shut and I thought his head might explode from the suppressed laugh.
“Who?” I held up a finger “How hard?” a second finger went up “...and how high?” third finger.
Dennis finally allowed himself a laugh. “God girl.... you make it sound so sordid!” He calmed himself. “It's just business as usual. Politics. 'Oh, Mr Vice President... what an impressive division you have!' 'Oh Madame division head... I've never seen such a portfolio.... how do you keep it so vibrant and diversified?'....” He said all this in a breathy Marilyn Monroe delivery.
I could only roll my eyes. “Seriously?” I smiled.
“Essentially.” he grinned. “Not quite that over the top... but yeah... essentially.”
I winced at the thought.
Dennis let out a snort. “Of course that's for most people. Eoin, Cyril, Colleen and Dez will be troweling it on thick. Of course with Katherine, the bar's a bit ...lower” He grinned. “People will consider it a success if you don't knee anyone in the groin or break a bottle over anyone's head.” He grinned at me wickedly.
“Did that ever actually happen???” Mikey exclaimed and quickly buried his head in his iPad, no doubt trying to look it up.
“If any of that happens, I want to be there!” Matt said excitedly.
“YOU....” I held a scolding finger up to Matt. “...are NOT invited!” My stern look crumbled as I turned to Dennis “.....is he?”
Dennis shook his head, smiling. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Matt slump.
“....could he be?....” I said meekly, my finger tracing a curlicue pattern on Dennis' forearm.
A smile broke out on Dennis' face. “I'm sure as part of Katherine's entourage, if he were to accompany you....”
“....US...” I said shifting my eyes from Dennis to Mikey with a nod.
Dennis sighed. This was obviously a variation from the standard Katherine playbook, but then again, we had been rewriting and appending the Katherine playbook for months.... and he made no secret of the fun he and Michael had that night we crashed the swank restaurant and karaoke club. He just smiled and nodded. “Katherine's entourage continues to grow....” he sighed with a smile.
“Just call me the Ponzi of PR” I airily said with a dismissive handwave.
Dennis and Matt both smiled. Mikey remained buried in his iPad, no doubt still searching for an image or better yet animated GIF of Katherine crowning a business executive with a liquor bottle.
We dropped our bags in our suite and went to round up the mob to storm Eoin's room. Mikey had the brainstorm to use my 'official' twitter account to tweet our hotel and Eoin's room number and 'bring your camera & flash' with the hashtag #P-Eoin-ed;-)
We were in the lobby a few minutes later, as random people were starting to drift in looking a bit confused and with an expression that belied their suspicion that they had been the ones punked.
When we stepped out of the lift.... OK, when I stepped out of the lift, the mob of people turned to me and grinned. I just put up a hand, which instantly quieted them down... (I must not let Katherine's seeming power go to my head!) and I pointed to Mikey, who gestured for them to gather in a circle as he explained the prank.
“Is the girl there?” I whispered to Dennis.
He nodded. “She texted me a few minutes ago. They snuck her in as planned.”
“...and Eoin?...” I shot him a glance. Dennis smiled.
“Any minute now.”
“How long do you think we can leave her before barging in? I kind of want it to get as awkward as possible, but not pass our peak awkward moment.”
Dennis smiled. “Andy and Rei have nothing but glowing things to say about this girl. She did improv for years during and after art school. She can keep the discomfort up until we barge in.”
I returned his smile. “I'm counting on it.”
Mikey gathered the twitter flash-mob while Matt wrangled some members of the local press. He explained to them that it was a setup, but it would still make for saleable photos to the tabloids, even if... no, especially if... the ambush was explained as the sordid joke between cast members that it was.
Dennis shouted “He's coming!”
Mikey, Matt and I all waved our flashmob into the lounge off the lobby. I could hear the shutter sounds of a horde of smartphones and DSLRs as Eoin checked in at the front desk and collected his room key. I scowled slightly, wondering why anyone would choose an MP3 of a noisy mechanical camera from the past over the virtually silent tool the new tech offered them.
I bought a round of drinks for our 'mob of angry villagers' and put it on Katherine's HauteShot corporate card – hoping I could convince the powers that be that it was a 'promotional expense'.
I watched Eoin check in and head to his room. Moments later I beckoned to our mob to head for the lifts.
It couldn't have been 5 minutes since Eoin arrived at his room. As we walked down the hallway we could already hear his alarmed short shrieks. I turned back to Matt & our flashmob with a wicked grin and put my finger to my lips in a shushing gesture. That quelled the group and I made exaggerated tip-toeing motions as we all quietly reached Eoin's door.
The sudden loud pounding of my insistent fist against the door made our crowd startle slightly. I just turned to them with a wicked grin and put my finger back to my lips.
The loud panicked yelps from inside abruptly stopped moments after my pounding began. There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Our group stared at me expectantly, but I just held my fist up in a paused knock, inches from the door. I really enjoyed these Keller pauses... seeing how long I could hold things until the awkward discomfort got too much and someone felt the need to break the silence, and breaking it myself just as someone else was about to do so.
“Eoin? …..Baby, it's me.... What the hell is going ON in there?” I shouted through the door.
There was another long silence then the sound of a large thud and what might have been breaking glass. The sounds of scrambling and another panicked yelp. I tried to imagine what the girl could possibly be doing, and grinned to myself at the thought that we would all find out soon enough.
I pounded even harder. “Eoin!”
More alarming sounds from inside.
I grinned at our group, then turned back to the door and got back into character. POUND POUND POUND. “Eoin!!! Open this door!”
Finally I heard fumbling behind the door. Eoin's muffled voice hissed 'STOP it!'
The door flew open.
Well, it flew open an inch and quickly caught on the security door hasp. Through the crack Eoin barked “I said, stop it!”.
The door closed again and I heard Eoin release the security hasp. I turned quickly to the mob behind me, pleased to see cameras and phones poised and ready.
Finally the door opened fully and I was greeted by a beet red Eoin in Jeans and an unbuttoned shirt torn half off.
The sudden cacophony of shutter sounds and explosion of flashes startled and further disoriented Eoin. Meanwhile, I just stood there, arms crossed and an extremely pissed off look on my face.
As Eoin rubbed his eyes and struggled to regain his bearings, I pounced.
“What the HELL is going on here? I thought we were meeting local media and fans in the lobby, but you never showed, so I came up here to find out why.” I angrily cocked my thumb over my shoulder at the agitated mob. “And they followed me”.
While Eoin stood stunned in the doorway, a pair of slender arms appeared from behind him, raising over his shoulders and looping a flower garland around his neck from behind.
He ducked out of it before she rested it on his shoulders with a blindingly fast ninja move and spun around, his back to us, hissing “STOP it!”
Finally we got a glimpse of the slight young woman in the sarong, striking in a wholesome 'girl next door' way, pouting at Eoin and looking disappointed and frustrated. She glanced at the crowd and gasped. I slipped her a pencil thin smile and caught the acknowledgment in her eyes.
This was going exactly as hoped.
“Oh no!” she gasped, looking at Eoin with the annoyance one might give a petulant child.
“Now you've done it! You were supposed to get lei-d before you met your fans and paparazzi ….but NOOOO.... You had to get all 'difficult diva' on me!” she nearly spat at Eoin. Then she shot me an uncertain glance, like 'too much?'
I gave my head the tiniest shake, but she caught it and relaxed. I stormed up to Eoin and yanked the garland from the girl. “Oh, just let ME do it!” I sighed with melodramatic annoyance and I violently planted the lei over Eoin's head like I was conking him with a tray in a bar fight '….or a liquor bottle' I thought with a mental smirk.
Eoin winced at my aggressive gesture, then blushed, since it was just a soft flower garland. I then turned to the girl. The shutter sound behind me had stopped. I presumed by now everyone had their phones in video mode.
The girl gave me a mortified look. “I'm SO sorry Ms Keller!”
“What part of 'get him lei-d and to the lobby to meet the press' did you not understand?” I said icily.
She played contrite and grovelling really well. “I know. I KNOW!.... I kept trying to tell him there was a crowd of fans in the lobby, and I just had to get him properly lei-d before meeting the celebrity press. But he just kept running away like I was some kind of vampire!”
I shot Eoin a perturbed look. “Seriously? What the hell?” He turned crimson. “You run from this girl like a panicked ferret? For a moment I thought you had some flower allergy or something.... but you have no trouble letting me lei you.... hard.”
I saw the lightbulb go off over Eoin's head. He turned bright crimson and looked down at his lei, pulling it out with his hand and running his fingers over it.
“Sorry.” he said with an apologetic smirk. “I guess I need to bone up on local customs.”
“Later.” I snapped. “We're on a tight schedule, and I don't have time to traipse all over the hotel just to get you properly lei-d”
“Was that proper?” Eoin smirked with raised eyebrow. “Seemed kind of ...rough.”
“You didn't seem to mind.” I shot back with a pencil thin grin. Then I sighed heavily. “All right.... “ and I yanked the garland from his neck and handed it back to the girl. I then turned to the crowd, who still had all their phones and cameras up. I handed it back to the girl. “Let the professional show us how it's done.”
Mae was great and went into perky tour guide mode, explaining the tradition of the Lei greeting to the crowd of cameras. I just stood there, arms crossed, in 'strict schoolteacher' mode, and Eoin stood in awkward demonstration assistant mode. It was perfect. Mae got a round of applause from the crowd, and I stepped in, nearly interviewing her. I asked her name and background. She mentioned her work as hostess with the tour company, and I made sure she gave everyone her public contact info. Then I turned to the cameras. “If any of you want to see Hawaii with the woman who lei-d Eoin McClure”.
Mae beamed. Eoin blushed and shrank down slightly. I raised a finger in afterthought and brought it to run under Eoin's garland. “Well, at least ONE of them.” I said deadpan to the crowd.
It was clear our impromptu 'fan/press event' was concluded. And for those who didn't get the hint, I made a dramatic gesture of looking at my watch and scowling at Eoin. “We're late.” I then turned to the stragglers. “Sorry. Gotta go..... showbiz stuff.”
The crowd chuckled but finally dispersed. I took the liberty of walking into Eoin's room. Mae followed. Finally Eoin realized he was entertaining company whether he wanted or not, closed the door and joined us.
“So was this all your idea?” Eoin asked me motioning to Mae, who sat there smirking. She seemed a bit overwhelmed to be sitting alone with the two of us, but also riding an adrenaline high in the afterglow of a successful improv.
“What makes you say that?” I asked in Katherine's deadpan. The girl stifled a snort.
“Oh, please!” Eoin rolled his eyes. “Even the girl knows your stunts!”
“My great grandma even knows. I can't wait til she sees this!”
“Shouldn't take long.” I said, poking at my iPhone. Eoin continued to stare at me. I wasn't sure if he was annoyed. I just looked back at him, hands in my lap. “Look, We could do the standard 'meet the local press' thing, one on one, 5 minute conclaves in a room or comic-con style, side by side at a table in a hall. Might get a few lines of print or maybe a couple seconds of video under a bland voiceover as filler on the local news.
I found what I had been seeking and held up my phone. “Or THIS.”
The animated GIF of me clobbering a wincing Eoin with the Lei while Mae looked on with an evil smirk looped on my phonescreen.
Eoin sighed. Mae giggled.
“....and so it begins.” Eoin muttered. Still, I could hear the smile in his voice.
“As if it ever stopped....” I said airily, to Eoin's snort and Mae's giggle.
We both posed for a few selfies with Mae, and I paid her in cash from my purse. I felt this was somehow 'dirty' and expressed my misgivings to Dennis, but he said she'd probably be thrilled to get the cash immediately after the gig. So I shoved my sordid thoughts aside and handed her the envelope with a handwritten 'thank you'. She gave me a warm hug and thanked ME for the gig. I smiled and admitted that it was a great gig for both of us, and she put on the hoodie jeans and flip flops from her gym bag, slipped out and headed home.
I got up to go too. Reminding Eoin that we had to get ready to meet the suits. He rolled his eyes. He didn't need to be reminded and he was looking forward to it as much as I was.
“Is there anyone who actually enjoys these things?” I asked.
Eoin smiled. “Of course. The executives. They get out of their offices and powerpoint meetings and get to dine and drink and hobnob...with us!” He said with a flamboyant arm wave and a laugh.
“At least with my dentist and gyno and tax guy, I get the feeling we'd both rather be somewhere else so there's this grim camaraderie of 'lets get through this'. I know they won't prolong the experience any longer than necessary.” I smiled sardonically.
Eoin chuckled. “You know the drill. Keep moving. Maximize selfies, minimize talk. Run the maze and get it over with. It always feels longer than it is, but before you know it we'll be back in our rooms.”
“...raiding the mini-bar.” I laughed. He nodded. “Well, I have to go back to my room and get ready.” I smiled.
Eoin paused and gave me a look. “You.... aren't planning anything for the corporate meet and greet?” he said uncertainly.
I shook my head. “No. No plans. I'm exhausted from setting this up.” I smiled. “A girl's gotta pace herself” I grinned. He relaxed. And I found myself bothered that he relaxed.
“.....but if an opportunity presents itself for a little off the cuff inspiration....” I said with a tiny grin and slightly quirked brow.
Eoin tensed again.
'Better.' I thought to myself, and satisfied, breezed out of his room.
We actually had a few hours before 'the Suit Sucking' as I began calling it to Dennis' growing annoyance. We rounded up Matt and Mikey and went to meet Dennis' contacts Andy, Rei and Jamal.
It looked like an abandoned industrial building. It seemed so out of place here in paradise. It's as if someone transplanted it from the Meat Packing district in Manhattan or that seedy industrial part of L.A. where the secret Karaoke club was. I then reminded myself that the nondescript seediness on the outside of those places camouflaged the opulence inside. I'm sure that was the case here too.
Not so much.
It was clean, but cluttered. Like the world's largest dorm room, but when Dennis introduced me to 'the textile turks' it all became clear. Andy Rei and Jamal were all under 30. Well under 30. None of them looked old enough to drink, but looking at the diplomas they had tacked on the wall, I presumed they were all older than they looked. That or they were all Doogie Howser precocious and finished grad school before they even hit puberty.
The truth was somewhere in the middle. Yes, they all skipped many grades on their trek to success. Well, their trek to their Masters degrees. Success was still proving elusive.
We all sat around the MacGuyvered conference table, which looked like the weathered deck of an expensive sailboat. Which in fact it was. Andy explained that as a start-up, they didn't have the money for office furnishing, so they decided to repurpose found items into distinctive design pieces. The large conference table made from the wreck of the old sailboat was one of their favorite examples of this iconic aesthetic.
I had to nod. These kids were imaginative and resourceful. No real surprise. Andy and Rei Ng were siblings, and the kind of overachievers that earns them enemies, even in the elite private schools they attended most of their lives. They were scholarship kids, so scary smart that organizations were fighting over who got 'sponsorship' (bragging) rights. Andy went to Parsons, where he quickly became legendary. His sister Rei went to MIT as a computer science and chemistry double major, but quickly discovered and became obsessed with Dava Newman's textile research group designing a next gen spacesuit for NASA. Rei barnacled herself to the group and quickly proved to have interesting insights and unorthodox, but intriguing approaches to problems they were tackling. They adopted her like a neighbor child who shows up at the dinner table daily, but is entertaining and welcome company.
Eventually Rei decided designing spacesuits was not her passion, but she had absorbed enough from the group that her imagination took her in different directions. She corresponded with Andy on the idea of taking tech and fashion and fusing them into new lines of clothing. Namely, she wanted to get Andy to help her take her astronaut biosuit study and repurpose it to a terrestrial garment inspired by the Fremen stillsuits from Frank Herbert's Dune.
That quickly drew the attention of DARPA, who funneled research money into development of a desert uniform that was combination life-support suit, high tech sensor and communication device using piezoelectric and thermal sinks to generate power for it's myriad embedded sensor, communication and biomechanical assistance tech. It was a second skin that would allow the soldier of the future to survive the harshest environments, sense those environments in infrared and uv bands, receive direct telemetry and interact with command and control stations, have the strength of a physically superior species. Actually, many of the design ideas were inspired by many members of the insect and reptile world. They achieved astounding success compared to earlier efforts, but the breaking point of the project, was the chameleon.
Dissatisfied with the enhanced survival capabilities, advanced surveillance abilities, biomechanical enhancements and ability to power and even charge 'telebionics' from the kinetic and thermal energy of the wearer, the pentagon wanted enhanced camouflage capability. They wanted invisibility 'like Harry Potter or Star Trek'. Rei and Andy were beside themselves. They had given the pentagon a suit that drastically advanced the state of the art, and the pentagon could only whine that it wasn't invisible ….like in popular fiction.
Andy and Rei got an extension to their contract and tried to tackle 'the invisibility issue' although they both believed it was decades or centuries beyond the current state of the art.
Much to their own surprise, they did come up with something. It was a prismatic microfiber that scattered electromagnetic energy in a wide spectral band, from deep infrared to near x-ray frequencies. The result, as they described it, was like a 'heat mirage' a wavering ….something... that didn't seem to exist in any specific space. They pitched it to the pentagon as extremely advanced camouflage, since it was impossible to 'get a fix' on a subject using laser sighting, rf or heat seeking technologies. Yes, the soldier would be visible, but they would be ghostlike and impossible to target.
The pentagon wanted invisibility. This was not invisibility. Their contract was canceled. Much of their research was classified, and they were cut loose.
While their 'stillsuit' tech was owned by their former government employers and so highly classified that they would likely spend the rest of their lives in prison if they so much as tried to market a better hunting jacket or gear for mountaineers, the 'stealth' technology still belonged to them, since the Pentagon considered it a failure and had no interest in it.
So they repurposed their prismatic microfiber into a new fabric that was beyond slimming, beyond mesmerizing. It allowed the wearer to be the focus of all attention, and still captivate people who could not process what they were seeing no matter how long or how intently they stared.
Jamal was a friend of Rei's. An MBA student at Harvard. They had met at some party or bar in Cambridge, and it was never clear whether there was something between them at one time, but now their relationship was unmistakably platonic, and strictly business. Rei knew if they wanted to start in the 'rag trade' they would need Andy's design talents, her textile and chemical engineering skills, but they would also need business acumen, to set up and maintain the infrastructure of their creative business, so she brought in her old friend Jamal.
They had some limited test runs of fabrics, and Andy was designing outfits from weather resistant trenchcoats to swimwear with some startling properties 'borrowed' from various aquatic species. It was still very early times, and this meeting with Katherine might be somewhat premature, but still too big an opportunity to pass on.
Rei showed me some prototype fabric swatches, and Andy presented some drawings of designs he had for the fabrics. Dennis and I put our heads together and picked a variety of designs in an assortment of 'beta-fabrics'... the textile samples Rei had that would soon be turned into clothing for the Katherine Keller photoshoot that introduced @reaLI designs to the world.
I was initially confused about their company name, and said as much to Rei and Jamal. I caught their mutual smirk, and think they were getting ready to let me in on their little joke when I blurted “Oh! Roman numerals! Wicked!” Shooting them a devilish grin.
They seemed nonplussed. They were used to explaining their little joke to people. I got the feeling that no one previously figured it out for themselves.
“Perhaps you should put some big almond pupils under the logo... in almost the same color as the background, so the effect is nearly subliminal” I suggested.
They looked at each other and nodded.
“That would be very cool.” Jamal said.
“Extremely cool.” Rei nodded.
“You don't.... I mean it's your idea.... your design.... you probably expect to be compensated for the design consult and collaboration.”
“I think that would be somewhat redundant.” I grinned. “Since Hauteshot will already have a substantial stake in the company.”
That was one of the many miracles Dennis was working on his phone on the flight to Hawaii and our ride to the hotel. Andy Rei and Jamal had a revolutionary product and company, but they were still the most nascent of cash-strapped startups. Until Haute shot became an angel investor, purchasing 49% of the company from its founders for a considerable infusion of capital.
They now had the means to design, manufacture and market their revolutionary new products, including a head-turning introductory ad campaign featuring legendary supermodel (and angel investor) Katherine Keller, and shot by her personal photographer. The guy in the crutches.
They took me to a room that reminded me of Jared Kaltmarsh's 'mad science lab'. There was a lot of green screen and some cameras on tripods. I wasn't sure what a fashion startup was doing with a DIY holodeck.
Rei asked me to strip down to undies as Andy and Jamal politely left the room.
“Don't leave because of me” I hollered after them. “Shy model is an oxymoron!” I laughed.
They came back blushing and conspicuously holding eye contact. These guys were so sweet, struggling to be so well behaved. I found it funny and cute. Rei stuck a little strip of label paper next to my belly button that looked to have QR codes and various geometric patterns on it.
“That's the anchor key.” she explained. “How we calibrate measurements.” She walked me, in bra and panties, over to a circular plate. When I stood on it, I realized it was a turntable, like a lazy susan. She pulled up my hair and clipped it into a bun. I presumed it was to get a better look at my neck. She walked back to a laptop wired to a camera on a tripod and fiddled with it for a bit. She then came back to me and moved me on the turntable, rotating me about 15 degrees at a time, until she finally rotated me completely around. It took about three minutes. She then touched my elbow and escorted me back to the desk with the laptop while I re-dressed.
I saw my photo with measurements superimposed. This app was really cool. By dragging the pointer between any two points, it generated a measurement figure. This didn't just measure waist, hips, inseam.... it could plot the slope of the waist, the curve of the hip, the roundness of the thigh millimeter by millimeter... it looked like the first step in the future of custom-tailoring.
Rei smiled as she watched me watch her.
“I kinda... borrowed... code from JPL.” she grinned. “It was used for orbital cartography, but I figured the principle was …..portable. So I ported it to this.” The pride showed on her face.
“And I helped Andy design the machine assist custom pattern process. He designs it, the AI morphs it to the ….um... model...” the many meanings of that term seemed to just hit her “and once the fit is perfect, the machines cut the pattern and handle a lot of the rough assembly.”
I smiled. “How very Star Trek... 'computer, 21st century fashion' ...and bam!”
“Well, not quite 'Bam'...” Rei grinned. “But we can go from sketch to garment in hours where it used to take days.”
Andy then sidled in, holding up his iPad. “We had a few preliminary ideas, and wanted your feedback.”
“No one ever asks the model for her opinion.” I pointed out.
Andy shrugged it off while Rei and Jamal just laughed.
“We're not asking you as a model. We're asking you as a major investor and business partner.” Jamal smiled.
“Oh. In that case then....” I grabbed Andy's iPad and started scrolling through sketches. “That one's really hot. Do you think you could talk your model into wearing something that bold and outrageous?” I asked the trio.
They grinned wickedly and I sensed this could be the start of another lucrative relationship for Katherine and her company.
We brainstormed a few more ideas and said goodbye while they went to fire up the fab process and Dennis and I headed back for the suitsuck.
On the ride back I had to grill Dennis.
“Katherine's company bought a chunk of their design startup?”
Dennis nodded.
“Ohmigod! Who approved that? Oh, God.... someone gave permission, right?”
Dennis smiled. “What? You think I spent the entire flight playing words with friends with Andy and Rei? Yeah. Katherine was an easy sell. You should see some of the things she's invested in in the past.” he laughed. “But I hardly ever approach her about business. So when I do, she listens. And so far, it has always worked out. I knew Andy from in the day when he was at Parsons. We met during fashion week and clicked. We stayed in touch, so when we were jetting to Hawaii and you mentioned lining up some shoots, it all came together.”
“What on earth are they doing in Hawaii?” That still made no sense to me and seemed awfully convenient.
“Well, if you were starting a company that was pretty much self contained, required little outside infrastructure, and planned to target western and Asian markets, would you stay in the frigid northeast or move to the most temperate state in the union?” He grinned.
“Point taken.” I smiled.
We called Matt on the ride back from the hotel.
“How is your schedule for tomorrow?” I asked.
“Ummm... I was just going to hang out.... with Nancy.”
“Nutty Nancy?” I mock gasped. “You have a date with Nutty Nancy???”
Matt sighed heavily, but there was a chuckle under there. “Be NICE!”
I pretend-grumbled down the phone.
Matt continued “It's not a date. It's just.... you all have stuff to do, but Nancy and I are both kind of... tagging along. I'm OK on my own, but I have my doubts about her. So I figured if we hung out together, maybe I could make some more progress....”
“Shelling the nut?” I teased.
“STOP that!” Matt laughed. “God, you can be so mean!”
“You're not exactly the first person to say this about Katherine Keller.” I said in a 'Duh!' tone of voice.
Matt was still chuckling. “No wonder you're so good at it.”
I knew what he meant, and felt a small sense of relief that Matt had not lost sight of the fact that I was indeed a ringer, but resolved that we should fully commit to the ruse that I was Katherine, even in seemingly private conversations.
“Retake.” I sighed heavily. “...so... you plan on spending tomorrow with Nancy... talking her out of her rabbit hole... and gently unwinding the crazy.”
Matt laughed. “Alright... that was slightly better... but still not very compassionate. ”
“Dammit. I'm a celebrity, not a samaritan!” I grumbled. THAT brought the laugh.
“Yeah, yeah yeah.... Well, I figured maybe we could see some sights...neither of us have ever been to Hawaii.... and through it all, we'll just be ….chatting.”
“A clever plan doctor Cutler.” I laughed. “So, it's more about spending time with Nancy than it is about going anyplace or doing anything in particular.”
“Pretty much.” Matt conceded. “Why? What do you have in mind? ….your devious little mind?”
I laughed. “Nothing. Well.... nothing devious. I got a work offer. A shoot. A model shoot. But we need a photographer.”
“I thought Katherine didn't do model shoots anymore.” Matt sounded skeptical.
“She hasn't sworn off them...” my voice trailed off recalling that horrible Rado Mitruscek gig. I quickly refocused. “...she just has a lot of other things going on, so model shoots are rare.”
Matt harumphed. He seemed a bit miffed that I made a persuasive argument.
“And because they ARE so rare, they pay really really well.”
“Makes sense.” I could hear the smile in Matt's voice.
“So we need a photographer.... well, Katherine's contract allows her to choose the photographer for her shoot.... and if the photographer has a quiet, mousey, somewhat ....crazy assistant tagging along, well, most photographers have assistants in tow, so that's no big deal.... but we...” I cleared my throat “...I... really need a photographer.”
Matt was silent on the phone.
“..And it pays rather well...”
Still more silence from the phone. I was trying to imagine Matt's face... what was going through his mind.... mental note to self, need to use facetime or skype whenever possible. Easier to read people.
“So....? I... can you.... adjust... your plans?” I asked with exaggerated hopefulness.
Matt laughed gently. “Let me talk to Nancy. Although I can't imagine her passing up an opportunity to spend a full day scrutinizing Katherine Keller.”
I groaned quietly. “I have a thing with corporate suits, but my P.A. Dennis will be in touch when we get back to the hotel & you guys can plan out the shoot. I place my fate in your hands.” I laughed.
When we got back to the hotel, Dennis called Matt and arranged to meet as soon as he 'shined me up and sent me off'. He shot me a warm, teasing smile as he said that into the phone. I returned his smile, reminded again how Dennis and Katherine would not be possible... or at least could not possibly be who they are... without the other.
Power shower. Dennis handed me a bottle of body wash that smelled like a rich tropical garden after a fresh rain. Dennis swept my hair into a casual up-do and pinned a fresh flower into it. He then handed me a very sexy sarong that seemed like something a shipwrecked John Paul Gaultier would have whipped up. It seemed simple and native, but had tiny touches that made it seem ever so subliminally sinful and naughty.
“Handy you happened to pack this.” I teased.
Dennis snorted. “Please child. As if you never were going to have to schmooze VIPs at some drab meet & greet? Remember, the P.A. gets copies of the itinerary. AND the P.A. Actually reads them.” He grinned teasingly.
I squeezed his forearm. “Thanks.” He just smiled. I raised my voice and called to the other room “Michael???”
Mikey wandered in. He seemed awkwardly embarrassed watching Dennis dress me. It occurred to me he always saw the after effect but never witnessed the process. I resolved to act casual and oblivious to his discomfort.
“How about an inside-baseball movie called 'a day without a P.A.' where all the personal assistants are raptured or something and the celebrity superstars are left on earth to carry on on their own resourcefulness?”
Mikey barked a laugh. “Another dystopian apocalypse movie?” he mock whined. Then he broke out in a savage grin “ I love it! I don't think anyone would buy it, but I'm sure it would be the most popular unsold screenplay in town.”
Dennis regarded me one last time. Scanning me from toes to top, nodding approvingly. “Good to go and destined to dazzle!” he smiled proudly.
I gave him a grateful hug. “Thanks. As always.” I whispered. He gave my arm a squeeze and I think I caught a little glisten in his eye. I knew Katherine appreciated him, but I was sure it wasn't in her nature to ever tell him.
“Go give 'em hell girl!” he beamed.
“So I can do the clobber with the liquor bottle thing?” I teased.
Dennis mock glowered at me.
“OK. OK.” I held up my hands in protest. “I'll behave.”
Dennis nodded.
“...unless things get TOO dull or unbearable... and no matter what may happen, I promise to leave no scars.” I said impishly.
Dennis continued his glower and grumbled “Just...GO....” He made shoo-ing gestures, but I could see the smile in his eyes as I flashed a finger wave over my shoulder.
When I arrived at the hotel ballroom, I found no signage or indication that anything was going on inside. No indication beyond the two burly guys in tuxedos bookending the doors. They were somewhere between James Bond and some stoic stereotyped secret service guy. As I walked up to the door, they each slid to the side, coming together to block the door. One produced a clipboard, and I announced “Ka...”
The guy looked up at me, then to his bookend, who gave him a quiet glare like 'you have to ask?'. The bookend stepped aside and clipboard guy quickly followed betraying the trace of a sheepish look.
So this was the suit suck. It reminded me of those Matrix sequels with the army of Agent Smiths. All generic and interchangeable. I scanned the room, catching glimpses of recognition as random suits noticed my entrance and nudged their peers. Quickly a wave of murmurs rippled through the room. I picked out a handful of women in business suits among the sea of middle management male mannequins, I spotted Colleen, who was staring my way, waiting for my eyes to catch her. She shot me a grin and I nodded with Katherine's patented pencil thin smile. I continued to scan the room and saw Eoin being harangued by three guys at the bar. I strode straight for the bar, marveling as the crowd parted like a school of tuna scattering before a shark. I barged straight up to Eoin, completely ignoring the suits who were still talking.
“You started without me?” I glared.
“...I just got here.” he declared. Nonplussed.
I snorted. “And you're already making friends without me.”
“Hi. I'm Katherine. Katherine Keller.” I said and thrust my hand at the group of suits.
In classic Katherine fashion, I didn't make eye contact with anyone, and the three guys glanced at each other nervously, unsure of whom I was actually addressing.
I just stood there, hand out, perturbed impatience growing on my face. Finally I started tapping my foot. Loudly. They were simple leather soled thong sandals, but they made a satisfying 'slap' as I rhythmically drummed my foot on the hard ballroom floor. While unblinkingly staring into the center of the group of squirming suits, I noticed from the corner of my eye that heads were beginning to turn, wondering where that irritating slapping noise was coming from. I also sensed some motion at the edge of my vision that I knew was Eoin's subtle quivering.
These guys were getting really agitated and I was wondering how tightly I could wind them before something happened, and just what that might be. This was taking a really long time. The tension in the air was excruciating. Behind my subtly annoyed pokerface, I was finding it deliciously intoxicating.
I finally expelled a loud melodramatic sigh like a pressure relief valve. The three stoogesuits startled, and all thrust forward to take my hand at the same time, crashing into each other like people playing chicken to squeeze into a revolving door. It was pure slapstick, but I held my pokerface. They quickly withdrew and glanced at each other to negotiate who would go first. They seemed to reach a decision, and just as one shifted his weight to reach in and take my hand, I withdrew it and spun to Eoin.
“Moving on!” I declared loudly. And turned to a red faced Eoin. “What are you drinking?”
He couldn't say anything. He just looked up at me, biting his lip. I signaled the bartender, who had been watching this scene from a safe distance. “Another.... whatever... for my comrade here. And I'll have... what's good here?”
The bartender made to speak but I cut him off. “Probably something Polynesian....”
He nodded and opened his mouth to speak again.
I turned to Eoin. “I think I'm in the mood for a suffering bastard....”
Eoin, who was just beginning to regain his composure, spun away from me and leaned into the bar.
“....maybe later....” I muttered to the bartender. “Just a daiquiri.”
“What kind?” The bartender finally got a word in.
“Your best.” I said unhelpfully, and shot him a look that convinced him to ask no further questions.
“151 Rum!” I shouted after him as he turned to grab the fixings. “...and a scorpion bowl with three straws for the mystery men here.” I said cocking my thumb in the direction of the three suits who were now standing like stunned spectators beside Eoin and me.
Upon noticing my mention of them, one of the three stepped forward thrusting out his hand. I quickly put up a flat palm and, fixing his eyes, made a loud “Tssst!” sound. He jerked to a stop. Then regrouped and went to speak again. “Zzzzt!” I said and made a 'zip-it' motion over my lips.
“Let's not spoil what we had.” I said sternly. He was at a loss how to react. “Forward. Forever forward!” I declared to the three bewildered corporate execs.
I then turned to Eoin who was just pulling himself together. I grabbed the daiquiri in my left hand, swooped my right arm around Eoin's middle and swiftly scooped him beside me. I looked down at his upturned face and loudly declared “Let's mingle!” as I planted my right palm into the small of his back and propelled him forward in a near stumble.
As we tore through the dazed crowd like a snowplow, I put my mouth down to Eoin's ear and quietly said “What do you say we double-team them?” with a wink.
He grinned at me. “This is SO not a fair fight!”
Perhaps not, but it was much more fun. Eoin would target a group of suits and we'd swoop in for the power schmooze. Eoin would do the introductions and grill them on their role in the corporate hive, all the while I would loom over the group like a distracted bird of prey, scanning the crowd and seeming to pay no attention to the banal chitchat. Until at some point, I'd sense Eoin was ready to move on, having fulfilled his unctuous obligations... at which point I would utterly derail the conversation with something random, yet obliquely related to the conversation I had seemed to be ignoring. While the group was recovering and trying to get back on-topic, I would seize Eoin by the elbow as if I had finally found what I was seeking, and drag him off with me.
That's how the whole Spartacus thing happened. Utterly by accident.
The vice president of online content delivery for South America was complimenting us on turning the Birds tour from a promotional junket into an event in itself and praising the secret superfan event at the Hollywood bowl as a surprise gold mine for his division, thanking us for the unexpected gift of all that saleable content. He asked Eoin and I what surprises we had planned for the last leg of the tour. I put on my razor thin Katherine smile and said quietly “If we told you, we'd have to kill you.”
The suit laughed politely, then began fidgeting when I refused to look away. Polite smile still frozen on my face and holding my gaze on him like a child holds sunlight through a magnifying glass on an unfortunate insect. It was far too easy to be ambiguously menacing as Katherine. And far too fun. Finally the squirming suit turned back to Eoin.
“SO... soon the Asia leg of the promotional tour will be done and Thornbirds will be behind you. What are you working on next?”
Eoin started to talk about 'Blue Balls' but I interrupted him with a loud, dismissive “pfffft”.
The group all turned to me, surprised at the interruption.
“Everyone already knows about that.” I dismissed. “He's trying to find out your next BIG project.”
Eoin gave me a lost look. He was as baffled as the suits where I was taking this. Truth is, I had no idea myself. I figured I'd make it up as I went along. That approach had served me well so far. I had faith that something would come to me.
“You know.... the thing!....” I stage whispered out of the side of my mouth.
Eoin just blinked back blankly.
“That ….secret project?” I continued. I saw the subtle shift in his expression when Eoin got on board.
“Jeez, Katherine. I'm not allowed to talk about it. NO ONE is supposed to know about that. How the hell did YOU find out?” he whispered loudly.
“I have my spies.” I said, slowly raising my voice from stage whisper to quiet conversation. By this time Eoin and I were completely ignoring the suits, but they didn't seem to care. They were straining to eavesdrop on this private conversation.
“You have nothing to do with this.” he hissed.
“I know. And I want to know why. Wasn't I fun on the Birds shoot? Didn't I work as hard as everyone else? Harder! I had to learn f-ing Australian for gods sake!”
“It's not a bloody language! It's just an accent!” he nearly spat. He was getting into this.
“It's all bloody English! The same language... the only language you speak!” he whispered with some heat.
I shook my head. “Wrong wrong wrong wrong …..WRONG!” I Stooped down until we were nose to nose, glaring at each other, and I desperately hoped Eoin would not break into a laugh. He kept his stern face on.
“First, I speak American! NOT 'bloody English'... BUT... that is one of the other languages I DO speak... as well as Australian AND fluent Canadian!”
“Those are ALL THE SAME LANGUAGE!” he said in a strangled whisper-shout. He was doing tightly-wrapped-irritation really well, but I could sense a few cracks. I had to wrap this up before he lost it.
“We'll see about that.” I said in 'Canadian' ...and I noticed Eoin beginning to tremble. “BESIDES... I know lots of words in French and German, Swedish, Flemish, Spanish, Finish... Russian, Farsi, Cantonese, Japanese, Tagalog...” I stared at the ceiling as if trying to remember more. If I kept looking at Eoin, I was sure he was going to blow. “....and a little Klingon.”
Eoin exploded in a single sharp laugh that rang through the room. But it was like a safety valve. He put back his petulant face and followed the laugh with scornful sneers.
“Klingon is NOT a language!” he scowled.
“Tell that to a Klingon.” I deadpanned. He regrouped and dismissively waved his hands.
“So when did you learn all these languages?”
“Not languages. Just words. Hel-LO.... supermodel?” I waved my hands into myself. “I didn't need languages. Just some key words to express myself wherever I traveled... Including sci fi conventions.”
Eoin was trying to keep the annoyed face, but I could see mirth trying to horn in.
“OK, miss linguist....” He came this close to smirking. “Let's HEAR some of those foreign words.”
“I was told not to use them in polite company.” I said primly. Eoin startled slightly but quickly pulled it back together. I was pushing this and had to get off it quickly before he lost it.
“Well, at least some Klingon.” he sneered.
“Those are the worst words of all.” I said flatly and I saw his quivering. Meanwhile the suits were quietly transfixed. I had to distract Eoin, and quickly, before it all fell apart.
“Anyway. This isn't about me or how many languages I speak. I let you distract me.” I scolded Eoin. The scolding seemed to be working. He seemed on the brink but seemed to be reeling himself back. “Clever clever clever.” I teased waving my finger. “You almost distracted me. But this isn't about me... It's about Spartacus!” I said that last part with such heat it was like a knife lunge. It worked. Eoin startled.
And I immediately clamped both hands over my mouth with a stricken look on my face.
“Oh God!” I turned to Eoin, meanwhile the suits were transfixed and I noticed a larger crowd trying to sidle into earshot. “I'm so sorry! It just slipped out.”
“Spartacus? What is Spartacus?” one of the suits said.
“Nothing.” Eoin nearly barked, looking daggers at me. That's why I love this guy, he's a great improv partner. It's like we're reading from the same unwritten script.
“Nothing.” I said, mortified. “No. Really. Nothing. All those rumours are just rumours. There's nothing to them.”
“What rumours?” one of the suits asked, trying not to be heard by the gathering crowd.
I leaned in and whispered much too loudly “The rumours that Dez Lehmann is lining up his next project. A musical version of Spartacus. That he's this close to acquiring the rights, that he already has Andrew Lloyd Webber secretly working on the music and he's quietly shopping it around to studios.”
“I would have heard about that.” one of the other suits mumbled.
“If he were talking to your company. I heard he's still sore that you tried to strong arm him into Thornbirds 2.”
The suit turned beet red. Meanwhile the rest of the group – including Eoin – just stared. Rapt.
“AND... all those false rumours say he's talking to every leading man in Hollywood with a musical theater background. The cast is so big most of them are nearly guaranteed a role, but the real competition is for who will get the lead. Rumour has it after his performance in Thornbirds, it's someone's to lose.” I said staring at Eoin.
I don't know where the blush came from, but it played perfectly. All eyes turned to Eoin, which only made him blush deeper.
I abruptly turned on a breezy demeanor and said in a normal volume. “Well, it's all so much Hollywood gossip. There's nothing to any of it. It's all just rumour and lies. Don't believe a word of it.”
I grabbed Eoin by the elbow. “Time to go dear.” I smiled through gritted teeth, nearly yanking him off his feet.
As we turned to leave the group, I looked back to our still stunned group. “This never happened. We never spoke. You've never even MET me. And I didn't say ANYTHING! ….none of which is true by the way.” I furrowed my brow and gave them my 'evil glare', the one that worked so well at the Ciregna champagne reception. These guys wilted as quickly as the girls back there. But I knew they'd recover moments after we left, and I wondered with some amusement, exactly what I may have started.
It didn't take long to find out. As we swiftly strolled away for another corner of the room, Eoin squeezed my wrist tighter and leaned in.
“What just happened?”
“Huh? ….just messing with them. I thought that was the plan.”
He cocked his head. “Spartacus? Where the hell did you get Spartacus?”
I shrugged. “I don't know. I just thought when they asked us what's next, that maybe I'd be brooding because there's some big spectacular brewing, but there's no place for me in it because it's like, nearly an all male cast.... I was thinking maybe lots of folks from 'Birds would be involved... which meant Dez... so it would be a musical... and it would have to be big and lavish because it's....Dez....”
Eoin grinned and nodded.
“So I was thinking, big Hollywood epic, Dez Lehmann spectacular, all male cast... half of Hollywood... it would be like those old 50s Demille films like the 10 Commandments, or How the West Was Won... which was like over 3 hours long, shot by teams of big name directors and employed half of SAG... AND was also kind of a musical.... so, I was thinking what could be done today that would be that epic? It had to be a remake, because these people don't do new. And it just came to me... Spartacus!”
“...the MUSICAL?” Eoin grinned.
I nodded. “It's not THAT big a stretch. Someone did it as a rock opera years ago.” I knew that because my fanboy cousin had the vinyl album.
Eoin just laughed. “God, Katherine. Where do you come up with these?”
I shrugged.
“The funny thing is, even though I knew you were ….being you... and this was all ...you... the more you talked, the more I found myself thinking... why not? I'd want to be in on that!” he chuckled. “...but Thornbirds 2? You really jumped the shark on that one. That's a bit much even for you!”
I simply smiled at him. That was real. I was at the meeting.
We found a group far from our original prank and lapsed into the rote banal conversation. But it only took another 10 minutes or so for people to begin asking us about Spartacus. We of course acted guilty and flustered and denied – badly – any knowledge of Spartacus. To the point of me acting like I had never even heard of the original. Which was the most believable part. Katherine may not have ever seen Spartacus.
About a half an hour into our corporate meet and greet Dez pulled Eoin and me aside.
“Have you two been up to something that maybe I ought to know about?” He asked with a sly grin.
Eoin blushed. I raised a finger. “All just rumours. Total lies. Utter gossip. Falsehood and innuendo.” I vehemently denied like a red-handed politician.
Dez just crossed his arms and stared at me with his sly grin.
“What have you done now, Katherine?” he smiled.
“I was just trying to get my sweetie some work... I want him to remain a steady earner and treat me in the manner to which I'm accustomed.” I deadpanned.
Dez rolled his eyes.
“It wasn't entirely her fault. I kind of played along.” Eoin meekly chimed in.
“Of course you did.” Dez said. “You don't sail against a gale wind.” he smiled.
“...Or a hurricane...” I muttered. I caught Dez's stifled snort.
“So will you please explain to me why everyone thinks I'm holding out on them and want to make amends to get in on my new project? Why are people trying to throw money at me?”
“They think you're angry at the company and shopping around.” Eoin grinned.
“Shopping what around? And why would I be angry?” Dez was confused.
I was about to explain when Eoin cut me off.
“They think you're angry because you were pressured to make Thornbirds 2” Eoin laughed shooting me a 'where does she come up with these?' look. “And because you're angry, you've shut them out of negotiations for Spartacus.”
Dez pulled his head back slightly, struggling to process. “...Spartacus?”
“The musical!” Eoin laughed.
“Eoin's the lead!” I chirped.
Dez just hung his head, staring at the floor.
Eoin and I stood there, looking uncertainly at each other. Dez didn't seem exactly angry. I thought maybe he was disappointed or was feeling blindsided by our little prank.
He began to slowly shake his head from side to side, still staring at the floor. I was becoming certain he was disappointed and overwhelmed at what we'd dragged him into.
Then his shoulders began to shake and I wondered if I misjudged him. When he finally raised his head, the tears streamed down his beet red face. His lip bitten tightly, he struggled to compose himself. As he ground a knuckle into his eye to clear the tears, he looked us in the eye.
“Spartacus?”
“The...um...musical...” Eoin said hesitantly.
“Starring..” and I cocked a thumb toward Eoin, flashing Dez a tiny grin. “...according to rumour....”
Dez shook his head again.
“Do you know who even owns the rights to Spartacus?” he asked.
“Not you?” I asked. He shook 'No'. “Well, with all the money they're trying to throw at you it shouldn't be too hard to secure the rights. ...as long as you act swiftly and grab 'em before the rumours go viral and the price goes up.” I grinned.
Dez raised a finger, I think to scold me, but hesitated. He furrowed his brow and tilted his head slightly. “I'll be back.” he said and quickly left the room, calling out loudly over his shoulders “I'm not through with you two!” as the whole room watched and quickly began buzzing the moment he left.
Eoin and I continued to 'work the room'. The more we tried to sidestep the Spartacus silliness, the more out of control it got. By the time we hooked up with Colleen and Nancy, it seemed the only thing anyone wanted to talk about.
“So I guess congratulations are in order?” Colleen smiled to Eoin. Nancy just stared, unblinking, at me.
Eoin sighed. “Oh, please not you too!” His eye roll was very over the top silent movie.
Colleen quirked her brow. “Huh?”
“There IS no movie.” he sighed.
“There are lots of movies,” I cheerfully interjected.
“And NO. I am NOT the lead.”
“Nothing has been announced. Every leading man in Hollywood wants this plum, but after 'Birds, rumour has it it's his to lose.” I smiled. “If there actually WAS a movie. Which is a totally unconfirmed rumour.” I smiled with upraised finger.
Colleen's eyes darted from Eoin to me and back. His expression was vaguely weary. Mine was suspiciously mirthful. Nancy continued to stare, unblinking, at me.
“A totally unconfirmed rumour which you started a half hour ago!” Eoin glared at me.
I just batted my eyes, the picture of innocence. “Sorry. It had been such a well kept secret until I let the cat out.”
“No one knew about it because it didn't exist until you made that crack in front of those corporate guys a half hour ago!” Eoin was getting a bit heated, but I didn't sense anger. It was more like alarm that we'd somehow started an avalanche that was about to bury us.
Colleen smirked. Glancing at me but addressing Eoin.
“So there IS no Spartacus?” she smiled.
Eoin shook his head vehemently.
“Maybe not yet.” I muttered under my breath.
Eoin glared at me. Colleen snorted. Nancy continued to stare, unblinking.
“Don't your eyes get dry?” I asked, startling her as if a microscope slide decided to strike up a conversation.
She blinked.
“Thank GOD!” I declared melodramatically. “I was beginning to think you O.D.'d on Botox.”
Colleen snorted. Eoin glared. Nancy resumed her stare. Is this really the girl Matt had to fill with coffee to finally stop her talking?
Colleen got back on topic. “So... this film... Spartacus... real? Not real? What.”
“Just a rumour. Started as a joke.” Eoin grumbled.
“So YOU claim...” I smiled.
“I was there remember???”
“So YOU claim...” I smiled.
“Look...” Eoin pleaded with Colleen. “Trust me. I was there.” he glanced at me as if I was going to interrupt. “I WAS!...” He calmed himself and gave her an earnest look. “It's just crazy talk.”
“...Doesn't sound that crazy...” I muttered.
“No, it doesn't.” Colleen agreed with a smile.
Eoin rolled his eyes. “It's all …..talk!”
I nodded and caught his surprise at my agreement.
“It seems to be the only thing all these corporate bigwigs can talk about.” I said wryly.
Colleen smiled.
Nancy stared.
“...and pretty much everything starts with a conversation.” I said cheerily.
Then I spun to Nancy. “RIGHT???”
She jerked back as if I'd bit her on the nose. Then I guess all those pent up blinks spilled out as her wide eyes fluttered and fluttered, her mouth agape.
I turned back to Colleen with an airy demeanor. “Oh, well. Time will tell. ...Come along sweetie,” I said to Eoin. “I think we've done what we can here, and I need my beauty sleep.” I latched onto his elbow and yanked him to my side.
Before we breezed out of the room, I again spun to Nancy with a wicked grin. “YOU!” I said with a too loud leer and an arm thrust out with pointed finger like a manic Uncle Sam “...I will see tomorrow!”. I grinned as mischievously as I could. If Nancy could curl up like an armadillo, I'm certain that's what she would have done. Instead she stood there, wide-eyed, slack-jawed and frozen.
I blithely turned away and breezed out of the room. Dragging Eoin along with me.
As we rode the lift, Eoin whispered to me “What did you do back there?”
“Me?” I raised an eyebrow. “Don't you mean WE?” I cracked the slightest trace of a smile.
Eoin sighed heavily. “Oh God.... What the hell did WE do back there?”
I shrugged. “Too soon to tell. We'll know soon enough.” I indulged myself a full wicked grin.
Eoin raised his finger and opened his mouth to speak just as the door opened.
“Your floor.” I chirped and nearly shoved him out. As the door was closing and he stood staring in at me I laughed. “Sleep well!”
I leaned back in the lift and smiled to myself, wondering how long it would take to find out what we had done.
Not long at all, it turned out. As I breezed back into my suite, Matt and Dennis were huddling, going over the next days shoot and brainstorming locations. Mikey was buried in his iPad.
Upon noticing me, Dennis & Matt looked up smiling and nodded, I smiled back and breezed toward my room to lose the sarong and let my hair down.
I was cut off by Mikey, who sprang from his chair and scrambled to plant himself in front of me.
He stared up at me wide eyed. I couldn't read the emotion on his face. It seemed a mixture of surprise, wonder and mirth.
I stared down at him with Katherine's patented expressionless expression.
“Spartacus???” he exclaimed.
I simply stared at him. Not reacting at all for an uncomfortable long time.
“No. Katherine. ….have we met?”
Matt and Dennis laughed, Mikey scowled at me with a derisive snort.
“Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?” He snapped.
I cocked my head. “Spartacus?”
“Damn right cuz!” he spat, not even caring at his deliberate use of that dangerous word.
“You didn't know about Spartacus?” I asked incredulously.
“Not until five minutes ago.” Mikey barked waving his iPad around so forcefully I worried he would slip and fling it into a wall.
“God. Kubrick made it in the 60s.... Even I know that, and I'm not half the film fan you claim to be.” I said with mock disbelief.
Mikey was having none of it. He was not going to play. “Cut it Kat!” he spat. I was grateful that even in his fury, he kept in role. “Stop messing with me. You know what I'm talking about. What the hell is all this about Spartacus.... Desmond Lehmann's Spartacus... Spartacus – the MUSICAL!!!”
THAT got Dennis and Matt's attention. Their heads turned to us, forgetting their own conversation.
All eyes on the room were glued to me. I heard Dennis whisper quietly to himself 'Oh girl. What did you do now?'
“OH! Dez Lehmann's Spartacus.... the uh... musical” I acted as if I just remembered to pick up my dry cleaning. I motioned dismissively. “It's nothing. Really.” I turned to stare down the three of them. “NOTHING” ….I made a 'pfffft' sound. “No. Trust me on this. It really is nothing. Doesn't exist. Not Hollywood's best-kept secret. Maybe some crazy rumour started by some gossiping gossip who overheard something... MIS-heard something eavesdropping on a conversation, that they mistook in a flamboyantly wrong way?” I batted my eyes innocently.
Dennis laughed. Matt just stared at us, bewildered. Mikey burst into a grin and threw his head back with a whoop.
“What on earth does ...Spartacus – the musical...” Dennis couldn't say it without snickering “have to do with Katherine?” He was curious but confused.
“Nothing!” I said folding my arms like an angry child. “That's just the thing... it's boy boy boy boy boy... the occasional slave girl, but mostly it's a celluloid sausage fest.” I pouted. “You would think that after everything Katherine Keller did for Dez Lehmann's bankability, someone would at least throw her....” I blushed slightly, lowered my eyes and quietly said “um.... a bone.”
“So THIS is what you were grousing about at the suitsu... the meet & greet?” Dennis grinned.
“Just to Eoin since it looked like he was born to play the lead. ….and maybe I got a little ...heated... and raised my voice a bit...” I looked at him with contrite discomfort.
“And now it's all everyone can talk about.” Dennis clucked, glancing to Mikey who nodded gleefully holding up his iPad as evidence.
Dennis looked like he wanted to say more, but I caught his eyes dart to Matt. He didn't know how much Matt knew, and unlike my CUZ, he wasn't going to let anything slip. So he just shook his head and gave me a look. “This isn't OVER...” he said to me mock-sternly.
I nodded, stonefaced. “...probably hardly begun....” I said quietly.
Dennis snorted and waved me off to my room, turning his attentions back to Matt and their planning the next days shoot.
I nearly blew it, gleefully toying with the hapless Nancy the night before, but Matt managed to talk her down from her panic attack and rebuild her sense of intrigue at the opportunity of an entire day studying the enigmatic, and clearly pathological Katherine.
Nancy still seemed skittish when she and Matt joined me in the lobby to begin our grueling day of guerrilla shooting. True to their word, Rei and Andy had a number of outfits, manufactured overnight and perfectly sized to fit me like a second skin.
Matt had some trouble photographing their ...unusual... fabrics, since the prismatic microfiber outfits ….eluded... being photographed. Nothing looked to the lens as it did to the eye. Andy had warned me about this when I suggested the photo shoot, and I passed his warnings along to Matt. It took Matt some time, but he was stubborn and tenacious. He finally wrapped his head around the different ways the materials appeared to the camera ...and appeared differently to digital imagers and old-style analog film. He adapted his style to the ….synergies... of the fabric and capture medium... and turned quirks into strengths.
To digital imagers, the fabric was all artifacts... seeming to reflect different frequencies and effectively change tint actively under polarities and frequencies of light. Analog film in his Fuji Instant camera captured it as a hologram-like moire pattern, but the real bonanza was digital video, to which the exotic 'mirage-like' fabric appeared as an active, lava lamp like shifting image of changing hues. Kind of like Rorschak in Watchmen, only in full-spectrum shifting colors. It was mesmerizing video, and while magazine stills would only show the moire laced color patterns, the online flash and animated GIF images would show the constantly morphing color shifts similar to the perceptions of the naked eye,
As promised, Matt and Nancy got to see a lot of the tourist spots, including some they might not have been able to see on their own. The volcanic moonscapes of the National Park, where Matt got some shots that made it look like Katherine in her shimmering sheath was rising like a phoenix from the lava flow, even though it was a photographic trick and I was far, far behind it, the heat distortion rising off the lava combined with the shimmering of the fabric made it look like we were all one object. Other designs of Andy's suited glamorous city shots and surreal vistas on pumice-black beach sands. My favorite piece was a one piece swimsuit that looked like a nondescript gray film when I held it in my hand, but once on, looked more like fine glistening rainbow scales painted on my bare flesh. It was so thin and light, it felt like I was wearing nothing at all. I could feel the heat of the sun and the tickle of the breeze on my flesh, and every goosebump showed, yet the suit radiated a multicolor shimmer that changed with every angle, and looked far more concealing than it felt.
Since it was a swimsuit, and we were in Hawaii, I was determined to wear it in the water. Matt was not happy with that idea, so I humoured him and let him exhaust himself taking every conceivable shot on and around the beach. When he finally ran out of ideas, I finally brought out my 'secret weapon' to convince Matt into shooting me in the water.
When Andy and Rei showed it to me, I thought it was a joke. Maybe it really was. Still, they went to a lot of trouble to construct it while they were fabricating the rest of the outfits for this shoot, and the longer I looked at it, the less it seemed like a joke than an intriguing item I found myself growing more eager to try. The Mermaid tail was startlingly realistic. If any prosthetic part of a fabled creature can be called realistic. The color morphed from the deepest black at the crescent of the fin, lightening to the pale turquoise of the swimsuit where it joined below the sternum. I was intrigued, and as a lifelong swimmer, really wanted to know how it felt to propel through the water with an actual hydrodynamic tail. I knew that when we got to the swimsuit section of the shoot, I would have to find a way to lure Matt into the water so that I could try out this intriguing new toy.
As it turns out, all I really needed to do was show him the tail. His eyes went wide as it caught the light and shimmered with that same rainbow effect as the suit. I'm still not sure he believed me that the tape-sealed trashbag would protect his cast, but he seemed eager to risk it.
I rented a surfboard, and finally managed to talk Matt into a 2 person kayak, dragging Nancy along like a reluctant witness, he paddled out beside me as I took my board out far from the beach.
There were a few other surfers in this area and the waves seemed OK if not great. Still, it had been ages since I surfed, but I always enjoyed it and felt I wasn't half bad at it. I was in Hawaii and I was not inclined to let issues like the fact that I was posing as a famous supermodel sporting an experimental swimsuit that was thinner than a coat of body paint, deter me from the opportunity to catch a wave in paradise.
But the surfing would wait. The first thing I wanted to try was the tail. I brought my board up beside the kayak and Nancy awkwardly handed me the tail she held across her lap. Matt reached into his gear stash and pulled out his SLR, handing another to Nancy and showing her how to shoot video while he fired off a barrage of stills. Meanwhile I lay on the board trying to wriggle into the tail. There were no instructions on this, so it took some trial and error. I realized I couldn't do it laying on the board and once, to my horror, it slipped away from me and into the water. My alarm was quickly replaced by relief as I noticed it bobbed just below the surface. I should have known Rei would have taken buoyancy into account when designing the thing. I then plopped into the water and tried to slip my pointed toes in from there. That succeeded instantly and I realized that I had been overthinking all along. The odd outrush of seawater as it was displaced by the volume of my legs and lower torso slipping into this custom fitted appliance was only the first new sensation of what would be an eye opening experience. The inside at first felt slimy, like some disturbingly lifelike fishing lures my father had. I remember as a small child finding them and picking one up only to recoil and shriek at the disgustingly mucous-like feel. I recalled how much he laughed as my mother tried to convince me that I had washed my hands enough and there was no trace of those disgusting things on my fingers, even though I was sure I could still feel the slime. This time, I reacted much better. It was still a startling and unpleasant sensation, but I just continued to slither into the thing and wriggled the top up to my sternum, where it fit snugly and literally seamlessly blended into the suit below my ribcage.
I could tell from Matt and Nancy's looks that even though they didn't have a great view, they were as startled as I was to see it blend invisibly into the suit for an amazingly realistic effect. I ducked down below the surface and gave it a little spin. It didn't take any time to get used to it, since it held my legs so tightly together, and the material quickly matched my body temperature, it was easy to forget that I had two limbs moving in unison and quickly felt like the tail was simply an extension of my lower body.
It was everything I'd imagined and more. The thrust I could get from the tail was exhilarating. I bobbed and weaved through the water and came up to the Kayak with a grin so wide it hurt. Matt and Nancy seemed to share my excitement.
“How does it feel?” Matt asked with a huge smile.
“Amazing!” I beamed. “Like I was born with it. I can't believe how quickly it just felt natural. And how easy it is to use!”
Matt beamed back. I looked at him and then turned to Nancy. “Let's shoot this. You guys ready?”
Matt raised his camera and Nancy just stared. I motioned for her to raise her camera. When she did I gave her a questioning look. Finally she gave me a sheepish thumbs-up. “Don't stop until I say. OK?” I said with a grin. They both nodded.
And I plunged below the surface seeing what this thing could do. I darted to and fro, around and under the kayak, then over to my board which had drifted a few metres away. I wasn't afraid of losing it because I knew it couldn't get too far away for me to quickly fetch it with this tail. I swam under the board and came up on the far side, resting my elbows on it, looking across to Matt and Nancy on the kayak. I then slowly let my lower torso float up under the board and rest below the surface, the dim silhouette of the tail faintly visible. I heard Matt laugh and knew he got the shot.
Then I got a really crazy idea. While resting on the board, I began breathing fast and deep, hyperventilating. I don't think they could tell from the kayak. I did a few poses with the board to keep them distracted, then when I began to feel lightheaded and on the verge of passing out, I knew my bloodstream was saturated and it was time. I filled my lungs with as much air as I could and dipped below the surface. I swam down, way down. As fast as I could until it really began to hurt, then I arced over and raced for the surface, seeing the outline of the kayak and surfboard against the sunlight through the water, I planned to come up about a meter from the kayak. I only hope Matt and Nancy were able to see me as I sped their way. I broke the surface about ten feet in front of the kayak, which was facing the beach, so I knew we'd have a great distant backdrop if this idea worked. I had enough speed to break the surface with a loud pop in my ears and found myself airborne – as hoped. I kept thrashing until I felt the water resistance give way and jacknifed to nose back into the water, arms tight to my sides. I knew this would hurt more, but I figured it would look far better, and the image would be worth the temporary pain. I kicked my legs back, hoping I wouldn't arc too far and land on my back. Luck was with me and I was straight as an arrow when I knifed back into the water.
I was really out of breath by then, so I twisted onto my back and broke the surface. Still swimming quickly away from the kayak, with my collarbone upward above the water. I let out a loud 'whoop' which got the attention of nearby surfers, and laughed with joy.
“Please tell me you got that?” I yelled to Matt and Nancy through my laughs.
They just stared at me stunned. Matt was frozen. Nancy nodded slightly.
“Still shooting?” I asked through my gasps. I was really winded but really hellbent on recharging and going again.
They nodded as if in a daze.
I played around with some arcs, not full in-air stunts, that was exhausting and stung more than expected when I hit the water with my head and face. I imagined I was lacing a shoe and just did a series of arcs, getting the hang of loud slaps with the tailfin as I disappeared below the surface. I tried to do that thing I'd seen dolphins do, thrusting themselves out of the water and falling backwards, their tails keeping their bodies almost entirely out of the water until, exhausted, (as I learned) they finally collapsed back below the surface. I didn't know if I actually got that move, but Matt and Nancy seemed quite excited by what they were capturing. After what seemed like ages, but was probably no more than 10 minutes, I was spent. I bobbed my head and torso above the water about five feet from the kayak, Matt and Nancy still shooting, and shot them a smile of satisfaction and exhaustion that looking back on it, seemed scandalously post-coital. I knew that from what was exposed, it just looked like me in the sexy swimsuit standing in about 5 feet of water. Then I sank down, stuck the tail up and let it disappear into the water. I had an idea in my mind's eye how that could look, especially on video. And 'nutty Nancy' bless her heart, did not let me down.
I bobbed back up and shouted “cameras down! I'm exhausted.” I swam over to the board and dragged it alongside the kayak. “Help me get out of this thing.”
Matt and Nancy were as helpful as they could be. Which wasn't very. I didn't want to tip the kayak and plunge Matt into the drink. I didn't think his cast would get wet, but it would be that much more unwieldy not to mention heavy, in the water. And if he fell out, I had no idea how to get him back in.
I gave up the struggle to remove the tail. I was too fatigued to wrestle with it, so I asked Matt and Nancy if we could just take five while I recharged. They agreed and bent down to study the shots on their screens. I propped myself onto my board, laying on my back and enjoying the warmth of the sun and gentle sounds of the lapping water.
I heard the staccato of shuttersounds and realized what Matt was doing. I was surprised but not annoyed. I just smiled, keeping my eyes closed.
I was absentmindedly sloshing 'my tail' in the water, since between my long frame and the extra length of 'the appliance', the board was nowhere near long enough to keep ALL of me out of the water. As delicious as it was to just bask in the sun, I reminded myself that we still had work to do. I thanked Matt and Nancy for giving me the time to rest and regroup, and told them that as soon as I got myself out of the tail, we could get back to work and they could get back to shore. Matt seemed really eager to get back to land. I don't know if that was because of his cast. It occurred to me that growing up in Montana, he might not be comfortable being on the open ocean a fair distance from shore.
I tried to take off the tail the way I put it on, but being in the water was not the way to get the tail off. Whenever I tried to wriggle out of it, I just propelled myself through the water. It was kind of funny, but also frustrating. I finally rolled myself back onto the board and tried to peel it off in the open air. I sat up and rolled down the top. The seal was so tight and flush, it was really tricky to get a grip on the top to begin to roll it down. I caught a grinning Matt photographing my struggles with the tail and motioning Nancy to shoot video of my plight. I finally managed to get the tail rolled down my torso, it was very thin and quite slippery. I'd get it rolled down to my belly button, then I'd slip and it would unroll back up my torso until I slapped a hand in its way to interrupt its 'reattachment'.
Matt made no attempt to hide his amusement at my battle with the uncooperative tail, and kept shooting fusillades of photos.
I finally managed to get it rolled down to my hips and was squirming to get it down past my backside, the fin splashing in the water, Matt laughing and clicking away and Nancy silently studying me through the viewer of her video camera, when all hell broke loose.
Suddenly I found myself underwater and felt myself being powerfully pulled down deep. Just as suddenly I felt myself flailing violently from side to side and was trying to figure what the hell just happened. I popped out of the tail. Or more accurately, the tail was violently jerked off of me.
Suddenly freed, I quickly darted for the surface and popped up like a cork. I turned to see a stunned Matt and Nancy, cameras still held in front of their faces while they stared wide eyed in my direction. But they weren't looking at me. I turned my gaze to see what they were staring at and caught a large shadow flailing in the water.
“Oh shit.” I said under my breath.
The shadow continued flailing and slowly chunks of the silicone tail floated to the surface.
I spun around in the water trying to locate my board. It was about twenty feet away. I scrambled for it, suddenly feeling how inadequate my two kicking legs were compared to the magnificent tail, which now floated in mangled pieces around me.
I was just about to haul myself onto the board when I heard Nancy scream. And the board exploded from under me. Actually it suddenly nosed up into the air and shattered under me.
I was as close as I was ever going to be, but the intruder's attention was on tearing up the board. I figured surprise would never be more on my side.
I folded my legs up to my chest and extended them like a piston. I was really glad I was a runner and had long muscular legs. When my tightly clenched heels landed between the dead dark eyes, I felt a crunch, and I knew it wasn't ME.
The shark was stunned. I knew my only chance was insane aggression. I had to deliver as many blows as I could before the beast finally came out of its daze and began to realize what hit it.
I remembered watching all those shark videos with uncle Kevin. I hated them. They were gory and violent and uncle Kevin couldn't get enough of them. I think what bothered me most was that I was sure uncle Kevin was always rooting for the shark.
As much as I despised watching them, I did learn a thing or two. The prevailing wisdom was that the shark was used to being the predator and was usually bewildered to find itself the prey. It seemed the only defense was an all-out offense.
I thought the shark was beginning to gather its wits. I gave it another strong heel-kick, this time right in the eye.
It thrashed violently and I suddenly was sure it was not going to go away.
The tail was shredded and bobbing all around me. The board had been shattered and big chunks floated around me, none large enough to keep me out of the water. I was screwed. I flashed on a scene in a movie I once saw where a guy was struggling to make his way out of a jungle after his plane crashed when he suddenly found himself eye to eye with a tiger. I suddenly knew how he must have felt.
Just as suddenly I had another thought. It was totally nuts and probably suicidal, but I figured I was totally screwed anyway, so a longshot was better than a guaranteed disaster. I smirked at the fact that the shark had no clue what I was about to do. As it swam under me I thrust out my legs and grabbed it, locking them around its torso, my knees in front of its fins like side pegs. I planted myself on top of it and clutched the dorsal fin behind my back like I was holding on for dear life on the back of a motorcycle. The only way to avoid being eaten by the tiger was to ride it.
This felt more like riding a bull. Or so I imagined. Since he was from Montana, I would have to ask Matt about that. If I survived.
The harder the shark thrashed, the tighter my legs viced around its torso. It swam deep and I thought I was screwed. But before I panicked and bolted for the surface, it must have decided this wasn't working and sped for the surface itself. It broke the surface and tried to slap me against the water to shake me off. I was so panicked I just clawed the tail tighter in my hands and squeezed my legs into its body with all my might. It plunged deep again and as it dove down I noticed exactly where my clenched legs were wrapped. Tightly around its gills. I think I was strangling it and had not even realized it. I wondered if it was so freaked at being choked that it would just flee quickly if I let it go. Or would it be so angry it would turn on me and tear me to shreds? I would have to decide quickly since we were diving deeper and I would soon be out of breath.
Before I could decide, I was thrown off the beast. It hadn't shaken me off. My legs were wrapped too tight for that. But this was much more violent. It felt like being T-boned by a car.
I was disoriented and knew whatever was going on, I had to head for the fresh air. I wasn't sure which way was up, so I curled into a fetal position and stayed motionless until I noticed which direction I was floating and began swimming in that direction with all my strength. I sensed a lot of motion and chaos around me and figured that at any moment I could be shark food, but I remained focused on making my way to the surface, since that was the only thing in my control.
My lungs were on fire but I finally broke the surface like a popping cork and gasped for air. The moment I became aware of anything beyond my heaving gulps of breath I noticed Nancy's shrieking screams. The Kayak was about 20 metres away. Nancy was staring at me in abject terror, camera still gripped tightly in her hands. Matt wasn't much more restrained. His eyes were wide as he stared at me, his own camera hanging around his neck. I looked down and was surprised and relieved to find that I seemed to still be in one piece, but there was a chaotic shadow play about 5 metres below me. There were a number of very large shadows tangling below me. I was thankful for the brief respite and chance to gather my wits, but still thought I was likely done for.
For lack of any better ideas, I began slowly, quietly gliding toward the kayak. There was no way I could climb on board without plunging Matt and Nancy into the drink, so it wasn't really refuge. Still, I thought maybe the large shadow might be a deterrent to whatever was tangling deep below my feet.
I yelled to Matt. “Use your camera!”
“Are you nuts?” he yelled back.
“Nothing you can do. Nothing I can do. Whatever happens... at least get a record of it.” I scowled.
“That's crazy!” He barked.
“I'm open to better ideas. That's all I can come up with.” I frowned.
He regarded me for a moment and reluctantly raised his camera.
I smiled bitterly. “You may earn your paparazzi wings after all.”
Matt let out scornful grunt. But he kept the camera up.
Nancy shrieked again and Matt gazed into the water.
“Oh shit!” He barked.
I looked down to see the scrum of shadows break up and two shadows head quickly in my direction.
“Just get the damned shot!”
“Wish it was with a gun.” Matt grumbled.
“You and me both. Next time. If there is one.” I said while treading water and waiting for whatever was heading my way.
I felt the wake hit my legs as the shadow brushed by me.
Nancy screamed again as the fin broke the surface.
I broke into a grin and barked a laugh as Matt stared at me with confused dismay.
Matt grew up in Montana, I have no idea what was going through Nancy's mind, but I grew up near the ocean. And I spent too much of my childhood watching shark videos with uncle Kevin. I knew the moment the dorsal fin broke the surface and I saw the shiny gray back beneath the it, what had happened over the last few frantic minutes and grinned with relief.
Matt stared at me. He was still freaked and perplexed at my sudden grin.
“That's not a shark!” I smiled as another dorsal fin broke the surface near it.
Suddenly the 'hit by a car' thing made perfect sense. I began laughing with relief, all the adrenaline bubbling out through my laugh like a case of the emotional bends.
The fins turned and headed in our direction. I caught Matt flinch, but could not curb my relieved laughter. The sudden spout from the blowhole jarred Matt and Nancy from their tense frozen pose. Quickly they put it together and the surprise and relief swept over their faces too.
My two protectors swam around me as I gathered up the bits of shattered board and handed chunks of silicone tail to Nancy who stuffed them into the kayak.
I ran my hand over them as they brushed beside me and I suddenly thought I knew what they were up to.
I saw the shadows of three or four other members of the pod a few metres away, but clearly these two had a plan.
“Toss me the tow rope” I yelled to Matt. He seemed confused why I wanted it, but dutifully tossed it into the water near me. I looped the rope around my waist and grinned to Matt. “Hold on!” I beamed at Matt and Nancy and held my arms out to my side as my two rescuers swam up next to me and I gently grabbed the base of a dorsal fin with each hand.
I thought the experience of playing with Rei and Andy's prosthetic toy was amazing, but I was humbled at the experience of getting a ride toward the shore from my two guardian angels.
They were swift and agile swimmers, we sped toward the beach at a mighty clip. I was gliding between my two guides, propped on a shard of surfboard, shoulders out of the water looking straight ahead at the quickly approaching shoreline. I heard the flurry of shutter clicks from behind and twisted my head around to see a grinning Matt leaning out of the kayak firing off shots of me and my two companions, his kayak being tugged in our wake.
Someone on shore must have noticed something odd at the kayak swiftly cruising toward the beach. Then I'm sure they saw the silhouette of the figure ahead of the kayak cutting through the water. I felt like a displaced figurehead on the bow of an invisible ship. As we got a few hundred feet from shore I felt my escorts ready to break off. I gave them a little rub and wiggle with my palms and let go as they broke away like aerobatic jet fighters peeling away at right angles. I had a good deal of momentum and low drag from the chunk of board I propped myself on. At some point the lower-drag kayak overtook me. I dove under and felt the kayak pass overhead, un-cinched the tow line and wrapped it in my hands, body surfing behind the kayak as Matt and Nancy paddled the last few metres to shore.
There was a rather large crowd waiting for us on the beach and I saw EMTs running from the parking area. I noticed lots of camera phones were raised as we waded out of the water.
A guy in orange trunks ran into the water as we nearly reached the shore. Since I was so tall, I was able to get my footing and begin walking the kayak in while rescue-boy was still making a big show of diving into the water to 'save us'. When he swam out to us I snarked. “Good timing Hasslehoff.”
He seemed stunned at my quip and stopped swimming... and made to stand with me.
And instantly sank below the water. Popping back up to the surface and staring at me with bewilderment. I just continued to wade in, towing the kayak. As we got a little closer to shore, he was finally able to touch the sand and walked with us.
“I just found out!” He kind of barked, kind of whined. “Some surfer came in and ran up to me screaming to call 911. He said there was some surfer being attacked by a swordfish or something. I grabbed my binoculars and saw a commotion and something really huge, but you were way way out. TOO FAR out!” He scolded.
“That was by design. We were doing a photo shoot and wanted to be away from any crowd.” I said with Katherine's patented deadpan.
The lifeguard took a better look at me and I sensed the lightbulb going on over his head. I'm not sure he knew who I was, but between my vaguely familiar face and the outrageously thin sparkly swimsuit, and the expensive cameras around the necks of my companions in the kayak, he quickly put together my photo shoot comment.
“Still, that was pretty far out. Were you attacked?”
I smirked at him and held up the shard of board I had glided in on.
He stared at the now obvious evidence of how violent the attack was.
“Oh my god! What the hell attacked you?”
“I think it was a tiger shark.”
“No that was no Tiger Shark. Maybe a great white, but even then..... it was really far out and I should have had stronger binoculars, but even I saw the size of that tail. That was NO tiger shark!”
Suddenly it all fit together. I burst a laugh before catching myself. I forced it down to a chuckle and shook my head. “No.... that was... um... me....”
He stared at me blankly as I pulled the kayak to my side and reached behind Nancy where she stowed the shreds of the silicone tail. I grabbed the mostly intact large tail fin and pulled it from the kayak.
I wish Matt had his camera up then, because I would really love a permanent record of the look on that lifeguard's face. I just shrugged and made an apologetic expression.
“...Photo shoot...” I repeated.
He just stared at me and the tail. I think he was trying to wrap his brain around the scene I hinted at. And failing.
“I don't think you were the only one confused by the tail.” I scowled slightly. “I'm pretty sure it was a tiger shark. And I think it mistook me for ….lunch.” I shrugged.
He just stared at me.
“You were both mistaken.” I said through Katherine's pencil thin smile.
By this time we were nearly out of the water. I dragged the kayak onto the beach as the EMTs rushed toward us.
“Who was attacked?” One said, alarm in his voice. They rushed to Matt who was struggling to extricate himself from the kayak. I smiled. He was really the one among us who did need the most assistance. The EMTs stared at his trash bag wrapped stiffened leg with confusion.
“He's keeping his cast dry. Could you check and see if he succeeded?” I shouted to them.
The EMTs were still mildly confused but they attended to Matt and Nancy while I watched with crossed arms from a few metres away.
“Who was attacked?” They kept asking. Finally Matt and Nancy paid attention to their repeated questions and stared at me. The EMTs spun their heads around to stare at me, arms crossed, giving the whole crazy scene a pencil thin smile.
“Oh, I'm fine.” I smiled dismissively, waving my hands up and down my body.
I think it was then the EMTs noticed the barely there suit and the alarmingly tall and familiar looking woman smiling to them. They were determined to examine me and be sure I was fine.
I kept them at arms length. Literally. I pointed out that all the arms and legs were intact, there were no bite or even scratch marks on my weirdly shiny body. I think it may have been some weird residue from the silicone tail, and I remembered arguing with my mom about washing off the icky feeling when I was a small child and had my first encounter with my fathers slimy silicone lures. They insisted I accompany them in the ambulance to the hospital for a thorough exam.
They didn't get the memo about arguing with Katherine Keller.
Eventually they had me sign a series of waivers refusing medical attention and even refusing to make a police statement.
“What? Are you going to issue a warrant for the shark?”
The cop shot me a confused look.
“What's the point? Don't you have enough paperwork or something?”
“I have to file a report. Ma'am.”
“Talk to the lifeguard then. He knows how to file those sorts of things.”
“We need a victim statement too.”
“Do I look like a victim?” I said to him, channeling that Katherine 'go ahead, cross me' attitude.
He shook his head. “I really need a....”
“Look. You need witness statements? Talk to the crowd on the beach. Everyone's dying to tell you their story. I'm not a victim. You think I'm a witness? My statement is 'I have nothing to say'.”
“But....”
“What? Do you want me to take the fifth? OK. Maybe I started it and the shark was the victim and I have nothing to say because it might incriminate me. Is THAT the statement you want to take???”
He shook his head, perplexed that I was being so difficult.
“Look. Everyone else on this beach is dying for their 15 minutes of fame. Pick someone. I've had more than my 15 minutes and just want to get back to my hotel. I've had ….kind of a full day....”
He scowled and reluctantly agreed to let me go, insisting on my contact information if the department needed anything more. I gave him Dennis' mobile number and knew he would deflect anything else the authorities tried to get from me.
Matt and Nancy were finally beginning to recover their wits.
“I think we've got enough for today's shoot.” I said in Katherine's deadpan.
Matt stared at me as blankly as Nancy. Oh, God. I hoped she wasn't rubbing off on him.
“What say we all just head back to our hotel?”
They nodded mutely. Still somewhat dazed.
Then a thought hit me and I scowled. I held up a finger.
“One thing first.” I muttered.
Matt and Nancy followed me silently while I took the salvaged shards of the board and walked toward the rental shop.
The shop guy saw us coming from a distance. Followed by the rather large crowd that surrounded us like a cloud since we made our rather unusual entrance back to the beach.
I was still a few metres away when I held up the largest chunk of board.
“So much for my security deposit.” I laughed walking up to his lean-to.
He gaped at me and the obviously torn apart board, seeing the curve of the bite mark at the broken end.
“What the hell happened?” He gasped.
I shrugged. “If I told you, you wouldn't believe it.”
He just stared at me and the large crowd. I beckoned Matt and Nancy from the crowd, cameras still around their necks.
“I don't even want to try explaining what happened. Can you guys help?” I smiled.
They just stared blankly back. Finally I rolled my eyes and glared pointedly at their cameras. Matt finally got it and stumbled up to the guy, scrolling through the shots on his back screen. Nancy saw what he was doing and joined him, fumbling with her own camera.
I saw the surf shop guy looking baffled, then startled, then alarmed. The crowd tried to press in but I gave them the Katherine 'death-glare' and continued to marvel at how effectively it worked. It was like a force field. Whenever someone would try to horn in, I'd fixate on them and they'd back off. I wondered if this super power was exclusive to Katherine or if I'd be able to harness it myself when I returned to life as Elsie.
The board shop guy wasn't speechless, but the sounds he was making didn't seem to be words. Still, I think anyone, whatever language they spoke, would understand him as he vocalized watching Nancy's video.
“So.” I interrupted. They broke off gaping at the screens to look up at me. “I obviously don't expect my security deposit back.” I grinned. “I think the right thing to do is buy that board.” I shrugged.
He surprised me and shook his head emphatically, grabbing the board from me and running his fingers over the bite marks. “No way! I'm keeping this!” he exclaimed. Then he looked up at me sheepishly “...I'll even refund your security deposit... if you'll do one thing.” he grinned.
I was a little anxious at posing for photos with the guy and his mutilated board. Not because of any shyness on my part or worrying about Katherine's reaction. I was ambivalent about posing in the really revealing swimsuit, especially since the whole point of the shoot was for an upcoming campaign for the summer swim season. I worried I'd be leaking glimpses of next years car model or something. The problem resolved itself when the surf shop guy sheepishly asked if I'd pose for the photo in a tee he brought out from his shop.
I had to laugh. First it was so large, it fit me like a dress. Of course on my tall frame, the XL men's tee only came down to my crotch, but it was far enough to cover Andy & Rei's still-secret swimsuit. I gladly agreed to pose for selfies and even a few professional shots Matt promised to email the guy to use in his shop with he and I posing with the mangled board, him beaming and me displaying awkward mirth wearing the “RIDE HARD” tee with his shop's logo.
Finally we were on our way back to the hotel. The day was catching up with Matt and Nancy, and the exhaustion was beginning to show on their faces. I began wondering if Andy and Rei were expecting their tail back. They DID custom make it for me, but maybe they wanted to add it to their office décor. I wondered how I would explain it to them. I needn't have worried.
When we got back to the hotel, Dennis and Mikey were pacing in the lobby.
“Oh my GOD girl! What the HELL????” Dennis greeted me with alarm from across the lobby, turning all heads. I just shrugged and waved my hand discreetly at my waist signaling him to cool it.
Dennis was having none of it.
“No. Just... NO.” he glared at me. “I just got off the phone with the POLICE!”
All eyes were riveted on us and I could sense the mobile phones rising. The lobby was not the place to be having this conversation. I just walked to the lift, eyes locked on my destination, ignoring Dennis, Mikey and everyone in the crowded lobby. I could sense Matt and Nancy following me like zombies, also ignoring everything around them, more out of shock than determination.
I entered the lift, shooting a glare that cleared the car as if I'd set off a firecracker. Matt and Nancy close in my wake. I turned and held the door, staring to Dennis in the lobby. He snorted and stormed to join us in the lift, Mikey scrambling behind him.
As soon as the doors shut, Dennis nearly shouted “...POLICE?”
“They wanted a witness statement.” I said matter-of-factly. That just agitated Dennis more.
“WITNESS???”
I shrugged. “I had nothing to say, and I was not going to go to the station and waste the afternoon.”
“WITNESS???”
“Exactly. Not a suspect. Not a perp. Just a witness. And I have nothing to say.”
“Witness to WHAT?”
“The photo shoot didn't go exactly as planned.” I said quietly.
“Oh, girl.... what did you DO???”
I scowled and looked him in the eye. “This time it wasn't me.”
Dennis just stared at me. I turned to Matt and Nancy. “Was it.” I asked. They shook their heads, still obviously dazed.
Then I thought about it and screwed up my mouth in an ambivalent smile. “....well, it wasn't entirely me....”
Dennis and Mikey just stared at me. Matt and Nancy gave me a different kind of stare. I just plastered on Katherine's poker face and regarded them back. No one spoke for a long, tense time.
Nancy of all people broke the silence, and for once the tables were turned. We all stared, stunned while she exploded at us.
“How can you be so sanguine? You were nearly KILLED?”
I shrugged and shook my head. “Nah. Probably just bitten. A limb or so at most. I'm too bony.”
She just stared at me, fury across her face.
“What is your malfunction???” she yelled, She walked straight up to me and started jabbing at my temple. “What the hell is going on up there? I know you don't do happy or friendly or apparently sad or even scared for God's sake!” Her face was so red I thought she was going to have an anyeurism. “So you only do angry. I get it. I still can't understand it, but I get it. All you do is angry. But still.... what the hell is going on up there that you ATTACKED A FUCKING SHARK!!!???”
Her outburst was so profoundly over-the-top, it took everything I had not to laugh at it. But looking at the shock on Matt's face and the stunned bewilderment on Dennis and Mikey's face tempered my mirth.
“You attacked a shark?” Dennis said, expressionless.
“You attacked a shark???” Mikey beamed at me. Then turning to Matt and Nancy “...please tell me you got that!!!”
I shook my head. “I did NOT attack a shark....”
Everyone stared at me. It seemed no one was buying it, but it also seemed that everyone had a different reason.
“I just fought back.” I muttered.
Dennis and Mikey went wide eyed, Matt reluctantly nodded, and Nancy just glowered with fiercely crossed arms.
We got back to our suite and I had Matt and Nancy show Dennis and Mikey the playback from their camera screens, my cousin and Katherine's P.A. were nearly as mute as my two kayak companions. I tried to ignore the four sets of eyes boring into me and keep things light.
“So, while the shoot didn't go entirely as planned, I think we got some good stuff.” I said airily. I was trying mightily to keep it light, but my companions weren't helping at all.
“Although now I'm thinking maybe less Vogue and Glamour and more Animal Planet and National Geographic?” I smiled sardonically.
All four glared at me.
“Look. I don't think the shark attacked me...”
Matt and Nancy both started to speak but I quickly cut them off.
“I think it was a case of mistaken identity. The shark mistook me for something else. Something more tasty.”
“Because of your tail.....” Matt muttered, nodding.
I nodded back as Dennis and Mikey were about to interrupt the moment Matt said 'your tail'. I quickly plowed over them. “It seemed very important to make it clear to the shark that I was not what he was expecting.”
“So you attach yourself to it like a barnacle?” Nancy barked.
“More like a rodeo rider.” Matt grinned.
I smiled back at him. “Yeah. That's how it felt. In the moment all I could think was 'ride the tiger'."
Matt nodded, grinning. “Yeah. I can see that.”
“You RODE a SHARK???” Dennis exclaimed.
“It's not as fun as it sounds” I shrugged. Matt grinned. Nancy glared.
“I was trying to figure how to ...ummm... dismount. But I lucked out.”
“Yeah, What did you do? That shark was freaking out, trying to throw you!” Matt laughed.
“Can I see your camera?” I asked. He pulled it away from his chest, strap still around his neck, so he could look over my shoulder as I scrolled through his shots. “....There!...” I smiled as I showed him the photo. He looked lost until I pointed it out with my finger. Matt barked a loud laugh.
“What?” Dennis and Mikey asked nearly in unison. Matt turned his camera around grinning and pointed to my legs digging into the shark nearly completely covering its gills.
“Oh my GOD girl!” Dennis looked at me with wonder and clear distress.
I shrugged. “I'd like to say it was deliberate.... and if YOU end up using this move in a screenplay..” I leered at Mikey “...make it deliberate!”
He grinned back and nodded.
“And wait.... what's this about a tail?” Dennis demanded.
“It's a LONG story.” I sighed. “NOW do you see why I didn't want to give a 'witness statement' to the police?”
Dennis laughed and nodded.
“So these two need to unwind for the night.” I cocked my head at smiling Matt and glaring Nancy.
“And normally after a day this eventful, I'd crave a good soak....”
I heard Matt snort.
“....but this time, not so much.... I just want to lie down.” I smiled wearily.
“You have a dinner with Mr Lehmann and the executive vice president of the music division...” Dennis started to say, but caught himself. “But I'm sure when I explain, they'll understand...” he shrugged. Then grinned. “Oh God. How will I ever explain?...”
Mikey cut him off, holding up his iPad. “Just send them this link.” he grinned.
It was a link to TMZonline with a montage of 'eyewitness' accounts of 'Supermodel vs Seamonster'. It was an insane montage of 'eyewitnesses' telling all sorts of crazy stories of me battling squids, flying fish, killer swordfish and other crazy things.... then someone's cameraphone video of me holding up the mutilated board with the surf shot owner.... it was wildly inaccurate and sensational, but I knew it would get me out of my dinner commitment. I would try to tell the real story to Dez the next day, and I chuckled that it didn't sound any more believable than any of the nonsense on the web.
I had hoped to sleep in, but Mikey woke me like a five year old on Christmas morning.
I scowled and wiped the sleep from my eyes while he kneeled next to me atop my covers nearly bouncing with excitement.
“...What?....” I grumbled groggily. “More shark stuff?”
Mikey just grinned from ear to ear shaking his head 'No' and thrust his iPad in my face.
It was an online video of the previous day's E.T.
“The industry's buzzing over confirmation of Desmond Lehmann's acquisition of film rights to Roman Slave epic Spartacus and the revelation that Hollywood's best-kept secret is true. Reached in London, Andrew Lloyd Webber would neither confirm or deny his involvement. Details are still quite sparse, but as for the hotly contested leading role, everyone is equally in the dark, but this time not for lack of information.”
They then cut to a clip of a pushy reporter jamming a microphone in the face of a grinning Tom Cruise declaring with a nod “I am Spartacus.” jump cutting to a sincere Ryan Reynolds admitting to an entertainment reporter “I am Spartacus” followed by a quick cut montage of half the leading men in Hollywood professing to the camera “I am Spartacus” with varying degrees of mirth, pride and sincerity.
I had to laugh with Mikey as the reporter said with utter sincerity “industry insiders are still trying to ascertain who in fact IS Spartacus....”
Mikey just grinned at me smiling, and scampered off to show Dennis. I rolled back into my pillow wondering if Dez or Eoin had seen this yet.
I curled back into my pillow, cocooned in the covers and trying to get back to sleep, but my mind raced. The previous days events had been too frantic and intense to fully process at the time, so it was rather easy to paste on a glib, airy, unflappable Katherine Keller demeanor. While I slept, I clearly must have at least begun digesting it, because I couldn't stop shaking and clutching my pillow tight as I curled around it. I tried to remember the words, so long ago, in Katherine's suite the night before the hotel when the women ...Mila... Mira....??? gave me the guided meditation that so successfully enabled me to relax and let go and inhabit my Katherine role. I really could use some help, but I tried to recall what she said and how she did it. I remembered the deep, cleansing breaths. I remembered the techniques to ignore the outside world and focus deep within, to find my comfort zone, my happy place, my safe place where all the dangerous things could never hurt or even disturb me.
It was a really poor job of calming myself, but it worked enough that I could finally cast aside my covers and drag myself from the warm safety of my bed.
“Thanks for letting me sleep in.” I smiled to Dennis as I padded to the breakfast station and he handed me my macchiato.
“No worries sweetie. I came in earlier and noticed you were.... still sleeping.... so I figured 'girl had a rough day, let her sleep in'.” He smiled warmly.
I knew instantly he saw my silhouette wound tight around that pillow and probably noticed my quivering through the covers. I felt my eyes moisten and quickly turned away.
“Thank you.” I said quietly. “I really needed it.” I nodded, my back to him staring down at my coffee.
I gathered my emotions and tamped them way down, fastened on my breezy smile, blinked away the glisten and turned back to Dennis.
“I'm good now. What's first?” I smiled as cheerily nonchalant as I could muster.
I could tell by his look that Dennis wasn't buying it. He took a moment and nodded to himself. I presume he realized as I did that the best course was to soldier on and just act normal until it once again became normal. I smiled quietly to myself and thought with bemusement that I never expected to miss Dr Dale's 'calming focus' shots.
“Mr Lehmann and Eoin both called earlier. They want you to call them when you woke.” Dennis said clicking back to efficient P.A. Mode.
“You told them I was sleeping in?”
He nodded.
“And they didn't ask you to wake me?”
Dennis stared at me and repeated quietly. “I told them you were sleeping in.”
I grinned at the thought of Dennis standing up to studio suits just so I could get a little longer to pull myself together. Katherine ...and by extension I... was so blessed to have him.
“Thanks.” I said. It was one simple word, but Dennis could tell its weight. He nodded with a smile.
“So, I guess it's time to face the music....” I sighed.
“I thought you weren't in Spartacus?” Dennis snickered. “Unless that's what Mr Lehmann wants to talk about....”
“I would never ever do that to Katherine!” I laughed. Dennis grinned back. “I would however do that to Eoin!” I said with a raised finger.
Dennis barked a laugh. I crinkled my eyes at him as I demurely sipped my macchiato.
It turns out Dez and Eoin both wanted the same thing. A brunch meeting poolside.
I kidded that I was not crazy about being that close to the water, but as long as I didn't have to go in, I would join them in an hour.
The shower was a relief. I hadn't even noticed that in my shock the other day, I had not even showered off the salt from the seawater. I was so anxious to sleep, I blanked on everything else. The refreshing body wash helped me get centered and feel more 'myself' ...or maybe Katherine... but by now the lines weren't so clearly defined. Well, the shower made me feel more 'normal' than I would have imagined. Refreshed and ready to dazzle Dez and Eoin poolside, I rummaged for Katherine's most revealing swimsuit. I'm sure someone at the pool had heard rumours about the 'supermodel and the seamonster' and I was determined to give them ample evidence that I breezed through it without a scratch. At least physically.
Katherine was always a head turner and I was pretty much used to that, but the ripple that rushed through the hotel pool as I approached Dez and Eoin seemed a bit more than the commotion Katherine usually caused.
Dez and Eoin noticed the stirring around them and broke off their conversation to glance around, standing and staring open mouthed when I approached.
Did I miscalculate with the swimsuit? Was it too much? By which I guess I really mean too little? I caught Dennis' eyebrow, but he seemed to calm and said nothing before I left for the pool. I think he knew I wanted to show off my obvious ...unscathed... appearance after the rumours of yesterday.
It was only as I approached their table that it occurred to me that maybe a sarong or cover-up might be more appropriate for waltzing around the hotel until I actually arrived poolside. Oh well, this wasn't the first time Katherine caused a stir. Just another notch on her belt.
“I thought you weren't planning on swimming?” Dez finally said.
I smiled and fished the tanning oil from my bag. “Not swimming. Sunning” I smiled. “I could probably brave the pool, but I'm in no hurry to dip my toes back in.”
“What the hell happened yesterday?” Eoin asked. “Was this another stunt?”
I shook my head. “Not on MY part. Just a photoshoot that ended up being more Animal Planet than Style Planet. The shark decided to crash the shoot.”
“There was an actual shark?” Eoin exclaimed.
I nodded. “The shoot didn't go as expected, but we got a LOT of stuff.... still trying to figure out what to do with it....”
Dez crooked an eyebrow but Eoin was really getting agitated.
“So it's all true??? You actually wrestled a shark???”
I shook my head emphatically. “No! Of course not! I didn't wrestle a shark.”
Eoin began to calm.
“....I just kind of.... rode it...”
Now BOTH of Dez's eyebrows rose and I saw the trace of a smile sneaking across his face. Probably due to Eoin's mounting alarm.
“Rode??? You RODE it???” Eoin nearly shrieked.
“Not for long. It ran away. But by then the surfboard was in shreds and the shoot had been completely derailed, so we just hitched a ride to shore...”
Eoin's brain was this close to a kernel-fault crash. “You... it ran.... how did you chase away... wait, what do you mean hitched a ride?”
“Look, it's easier to explain when you see the photos and videos. I'll send them to you on two conditions.” I smiled and caught Dez eyeing me in my peripheral vision.
“What conditions?” Eoin asked hesitantly.
“First.” I said, putting on my stern face and raising my index finger “No sharing. Your eyes only. These WILL come out, but they will be properly marketed.”
Eoin nodded. He understood.
“Second....” I smiled “before I let you see them, I need you to promise me one thing.”
Eoin shot me a curious look.
“Switch to decaf.” I said deadpan as Dez yelped a laugh.
Eoin shot me a perturbed look, but it morphed into a grin.
Dez cleared his throat to get our attention. “I'm as curious as anyone to learn the real story behind 'The Supermodel and the Seamonster'...”
Eoin snorted and shot me a guilty smirk.
“...but that's not why I invited the two of you here.”
“Spartacus.” I rolled my eyes.
“In a way, yes. The rights have been secured ….thank you very much.... and now the dance really begins.” Dez smiled. “No commitments have been made, but our corporate hosts have been making a full court press to clinch the deal for themselves. But since they do own us for Thornbirds, that is how they are applying the pressure. They've scheduled a celebratory luau to honor the creative sources behind the years ...maybe the decade's.... biggest hit.
“Well deserved.” I smiled and nodded to Dez while clapping my hands quietly in polite applause.
Eoin joined me and Dez bowed his head slightly in courteous acknowledgment.
“Thank you.” He said reflexively. Then he gave Eoin and me a hard look. “Thank YOU.....”
We both glanced at each other and blushed slightly.
“We make a good team.” I said quietly. Dez smiled at us.
“Yes you do.” He grinned.
“No. We THREE.” I gave him a long hard look. “If not for YOU.... NONE of this would have happened.” I smiled and swept my arm circling the three of us.
Dez caught my look, and his face did a ...thing. He nodded graciously and cleared his throat.
“Alright.... we three....” then his smile turned wicked. “So it is only fair that this command performance to celebrate the success of Thornbirds.... and corner us for hours of pressure to bring them on board for Spartacus....”
“The Musical!” I grinned. Eoin shot me a weary, overwhelmed look. Dez just chuckled.
“Yes. But I do wish you hadn't laid it on so thick. Andrew Lloyd Webber won't stop calling me.” Dez sighed with a grin. Then he regained his focus. “So. We're all invited....” and it was clear from his tone of voice that there was nothing voluntary about this invitation. “...to join our corporate overlords to be celebrated for all the money we made them.... and grilled on how we can make them more.” Dez smiled wearily.
Eoin and I looked at each other.
“What more do they want?” I asked Dez. I noticed Eoin nodding with me out of the corner of my eye. “They have a movie that is still playing in theaters... and will probably play midnite shows for the next decade.... they have DVDs and Collectors Edition Premium DVDs in the pipeline... PLUS the Original Cast album... PLUS the live concert video... AND the novelizations, comic books, action figures....” Something occurred to me and I turned to Eoin.
“Did you do the Altar Boy?” I asked. Eoin shot me an alarmed, bewildered look. Since he seemed clueless, I shrugged it off and turned back to Dez.
“What Altar Boy???” Eoin asked.
“The ...uh... bendable... nevermind... it's not important...” I made a waving-off motion with my hand. I heard Dez snort.
“No. Don't nevermind me.... it SOUNDS important!” Eoin was getting agitated.
“I'll explain later...” I brushed him off trying to get back on topic. I could feel his glare like a laser fixed on me. I turned to Eoin. “No. Really. I'll explain later, but right now I want to stay on-topic... Which IS....” I turned to glare at Dez. “After everything we gave them, most of which they were never expecting and some of which they didn't even ASK for.... what else could they want from us???”
Dez smiled a Cheshire Cat grin. “Just one thing....” His eyes crinkled as he looked from Eoin to me clearly trying to see if either of us could guess what the one thing was. He gave us a moment to figure it out for ourselves, then put us out of our misery.
He raised one finger and with a cynical smile, said “...More....”
Eoin and I looked at each other and groaned. Dez just laughed.
“They're business people. That's the only thing they ever want. And it serves you right because you both kept giving it to them. So now they want to wine and dine us and find out what else we can give them.”
I rolled my eyes and looked at Eoin who seemed to feel the same.
Dez laughed. “Don't worry. It will be fine. The pressure won't be on you. It will be on me. And I'll try to distract them with Spartacus.”
Eoin and I began to relax, and Dez's grin turned wicked. “All you have to do is decide what to perform.”
“What?” Eoin asked. I just nodded along with him. “I thought this was a dinner to celebrate US.”
“Luau.” Dez corrected.
“So they expect us to entertain at the party held in our honor....” I looked at Dez, who just returned my gaze with a jaded smile.
“Of course.” He nodded.
“What are they expecting?” Eoin asked wearily.
“Oh, not the whole dog and pony show. Just a number or two. A command performance for their exclusive audience. That's all. Kind of like what you did at the Sokolov's the night of the premiere.”
“Or maybe the number we did in Atlanta?” I smiled to Eoin, who turned bright crimson,
“I'm not so sure it will be that easy to find a breakaway priest costume here” Dez said with a raised eyebrow. Eoin and I glanced guiltily at each other. Dez knew about the naughty costume?
Eoin coughed nervously and I decided to steer the conversation from stripper-priest.
“There's so much stuff, we don't need to cover old ground.” I said to Dez. “Maybe Eoin and I could each do solos.... the suits would be happy because there would be more acts, and we could maybe do some stuff to show our solo chops.... and Eoin could show why he SHOULD be Spartacus.” I grinned.
Eoin groaned. And rolled his eyes. But he was smiling.
“Maybe you could do 'Call me Father'?” I raised an eyebrow to Eoin, who thought about it and nodded.
“I already know what I want to do.” I smiled.
Dez and Eoin eyed each other.
“....are you intending to ….share.... this with us?” Dez inquired.
I smiled. “Of course.” Then I went quiet in stoneface Katherine mode.
Eoin and Dez exchanged glances and turned back to me. I just held the smile and did nothing. When Eoin took a breath and seemed about to speak, I said “Tonight. At the Luau.”
Eoin and Dez exchanged glances. They knew it was pointless. They sighed with resignation and Dez said “Well. I'll see you both tonight. At the Luau.” And with that he rose and left.
Eoin stared at me. I sensed he was waiting for me to say something. Anything.
“So you're OK with 'Call me Father'?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“I'll ask my P.A. to find out who's doing the music and have Kirk fax them over our charts.” I said seeming suddenly very businesslike. Eoin seemed surprised at my change in demeanor, but nodded automatically.
“And what are you planning to do?” He grinned.
I looked back deadpan. “One of my solos.”
He tilted his head. “What do you have planned? What are you going to do?”
I shrugged. “You know the score. I only have three solos in the whole film. You broadway stars got all the juicy numbers. Not much opportunity to show off.” I shrugged.
Eoin thought about Katherine's solo numbers from the movie. He nodded. “Yeah. No real show stopper moments.”
I smiled in agreement. Then Eoin snorted.
“I'm really curious to see how you're going to stop the show.” He grinned. I gave him a poker faced shrug.
“Until tonight.” He chuckled quietly as he rose to leave. I gathered my things and made my way to a poolside lounge chair.
“And I haven't forgotten about that bendable altar boy.” he yelled from across the pool. And instantly regretted it as all heads turned.
I spent about an hour sunning poolside, just enough to get the trace of a bikini-line. Then I cajoled a beach towel from a hotel staffer and ambled back to my suite.
“Michael!....” I yelled as I came through the door. “Dennis???? ….all hands on deck... promotional emergency....” I smiled as I wandered through the suite. Quickly I was joined by a grinning, expectant Mikey and a quizzical and bemused Dennis.
I told them about the corporate ambush at the flash-Luau tonight and what I had in mind.
Mikey was gleeful but Dennis seemed overwhelmed.
“Sweetie, how many rabbits do you think I have stuffed into my hat?” he sighed with a smile.
“As long as you keep at least two, you should have an unlimited supply” I grinned.
He rolled his eyes and groaned, but he was laughing. I was still confident my guys could help me pull this off.
They didn't do it alone. Dennis recruited Andy Rei and Jamal and even called Mae, the girl who punked Eoin, to put us in touch with the people we needed to get this stunt done.
I did grab the phone from Dennis when he was talking with Andy to apologize for wrecking their awesome tail and gushing about how amazing it was until everything all turned into chaos.
Andy was gracious and seemed genuinely pleased to learn how much I liked it. I had Matt send his photos and Nancy's videos to them to show them what they bought with their money.... which was essentially Katherine's angel investor money. And to explain why I never returned the tail. They were impressed with Matt's work and amazed and appalled at the open water shoot. But Andy seemed delighted at the photos and videos of my trying out the tail, confessing that it even exceeded his high expectations. He even admitted that they had the templates and could fashion me another one if I wanted.
I seriously considered it. There wasn't much from Katherine's world I could possibly use once I started living my own, revised, life. But the prosthetic tail was such a delirious experience, I would not rule out asking Andy and Rei to fabricate another. Never admitting that it was just so Elsie could have a delicious souvenir.
What we needed for tonight's performance wasn't nearly as exotic. Still, it was a bit out of the ordinary, and required more than a little creativity and resourcefulness.
While Dennis and his crew were rounding up the supplies and going over the logistics for tonight's performance, Matt texted me asking if I had a few minutes to join him in the coffee shop.
This time I had the presence of mind to dress more modestly, and only received the usual amount of head turns as I made my way to the coffee shop.
I saw Matt at a far table, looking somewhat haggard. As I made my way over, I was approached by a handful of shop patrons. My Katherine glare repelled them like a stun-stick and quickly dissuaded others from trying. I usually felt somewhat guilty using this Katherine power, but today I just wanted to be left alone and wielded it mercilessly. A disturbing notion flashed through my mind. Was I becoming as jaded and misanthropic as the real Katherine? And was that an unavoidable consequence of the job?
I filed that thought away. It would need to be addressed. But right now I needed to talk with Matt, who was not looking so well.
“Hi!” I forced a breezy smile, which quickly melted to my genuine concerned face. “How did you sleep?”
Matt snorted and regarded me... searching my expression for something. I just clamped on that impassive, unperturbed Katherine face and hoped nothing slipped through. Apparently it worked because Matt seemed to give up examining me and cast his eyes back into his coffee cup.
“Kinda rough.” He said with a sardonic smile. “And you?”
“How's Nancy? Have you talked with her?” I hadn't intended to avoid his question, but I felt this was more important.
“She's pretty rattled. I think you shook her out of her rabbit hole.” He looked into space and I could see the wheels turning as he formulated his next statement. I waited patiently, knowing he was not finished. Finally, after a few seconds that felt far, far longer, his face quirked into an expression that displayed a jumble of feelings that ended up coming out like dark mirth. “You didn't just shake her out, you kind of threw a stick of dynamite down that rabbit hole.” He shook his head at the thought. “We talked a LOT. The only way I could get away from her was to tell her I needed to check on YOU.” He grinned. “She wanted to come along, but I told her one on one works best.... the way I talked with her.” He grinned sadly. “She couldn't refute my logic. Anyway, I think she needs some time alone to reflect on the things we talked about.”
“So she'll be OK?”
Matt saw my genuine concern. I thought Nancy tagging along on the photo shoot would be at most a minor annoyance. I thought I might give her a little shake now and then to jar her slightly out of her own tangled head. Using Matt's metaphor, maybe I'd throw a pebble or two down her rabbit hole to loosen her grip. I had never intended to traumatize the poor girl, and guilt over that was just one of the many things that was haunting me.
Matt flashed a rueful smile. “Well, the good news is the charging rhino you unleashed seem to have completely scattered all the little mice scampering through her mind.... and maybe one big thing is easier to deal with than countless little things.” He furrowed his brow. “Remember, I'm just the first year student.... SHE's the grad student.”
“AND cautionary tale.” I held my finger up with a gentle smile.
Matt returned my smile and nodded. “Yeah... Well, having said that.... I'm in no position to say, but my feeling is that she's been so badly shaken, she's finally ready to work all this stuff out with someone who IS fully qualified to help her. So, despite the WAY she got there, I think she's in a place where she will finally seek proper help.”
The relief swept over me like a wave, and I could tell by Matt's smile, it showed.
“And you're going to be OK?” I asked gently.
He nodded. “It'll be a process, but remember, this is the field I wanted.... I'm kind of familiar with a lot of trauma stories, most far more grizzly and ghastly than this.... so it lends some perspective. Although the ….visceral.... nature of actually living through something relatively minor is still far, far more ….powerful.... than witnessing a third party account of something far worse.”
“So the fender bender where you broke your nose from the airbag is more intense than watching a horrific plane crash on the news?” I ventured.
Matt nodded. “Yeah. It's a lesser assault, but on all the senses. It digs deep into your memories.”
I nodded. Then Matt slowly formed a sly grin.
“Which brings me back to the question you ducked. How did you sleep?”
I shrugged. “Not great. My mind wouldn't calm. I kept going over the day, trying to figure how I could have done things differently... from not playing with that tail, to not forcing you into that kayak for the water shoot.... to just saying no to the whole silly shoot in the first place.....”
“None of those would have been sensible choices without knowing how the day would end.” Matt said matter of factly.
I nodded. “Still, I couldn't stop thinking about it. And when fatigue finally did get me, I know I was churning it over in my dreams.” This was getting too sullen. I forced a grin. “So yeah. Not the best night's sleep. But I think it was necessary, and helped me process everything. I'll be fine.” I declared airily.
Matt just shot me a look.
“I'll be ….OK.” I smiled. Genuinely, this time.
Matt nodded. He seemed to believe me. And if HE believed my words, maybe I could start believing them too.
“So you'll sleep well tonight?” He smiled.
I shook my head, surprising him. “No time. Have a command performance for the corporate suits. Apparently this Spartacus nonsense has blown up and we're all being wrangled for a mandatory Luau.”
Matt shook his head, grinning. “Now who do you have to blame for THAT?”
I shrugged. “So, it's paste-on-the-permasmile, polish the razzle, amp up the dazzle, and put the WOW in Luau.” I said with over the top fake enthusiasm.
Matt laughed. “A starlet's work is never done, it seems.”
I put on a melodramatic pout and whined in my best Barbie voice “Fame is HARD!”
That actually made Matt laugh so loudly all heads in the coffeeshop turned in our direction. He squeezed my hand and gave me the warmest gaze. “Yeah. You'll be fine.”
He then pushed his chair back and hoist himself into his crutches “Nancy, may still need someone to help her find her way out of the woods, so I ought to go.”
“If they don't sell breadcrumbs in the giftshop, drop my name to room service, they're used to my requests.” I smiled.
“GoodBYE Katherine.” Matt chuckled. “Have fun at your Luau.”
I smiled and nodded as he left. If things went as planned, I would indeed.
When I got back to my suite, Dennis informed me that Matt wanted me to call him.
“No need. We just met in the coffee shop.” I smiled.
Denis grinned. “I just got off the phone with him. He seemed a little embarrassed.”
I rolled my eyes and called Matt.
“I'm still fine.” I smiled as he picked up the phone.
He laughed. “Jeez, I'm not that worried. No.... it's just... you sort of derailed me at the coffee shop. That wasn't what I wanted to talk about.”
“Oh, so you don't care how I'm doing after my near death experience?” I said with exaggerated offense.
“You're doing it again!” Matt chided through his laughs.
“I wanted to talk ….business.” Matt said with more than a little hesitation.
“Business?” I was surprised, but my overwhelming reaction was ….curiosity.
“Uh... some old contacts of mine.... uh... saw some of the coverage of the ...uh... phone videos from the people on the beach yesterday.... and noticed me in the background ...uh... with Nancy.”
“Um hmm....” I made a small ...'go on' sound.
“So.... they wanted to know....” Then he laughed. “Actually, they wanted to know a lot. What I was doing in Hawaii, what I was doing on that beach. Who that girl was...”
“Nancy.” I posited.
“Nancy.” He confirmed. “Actually, they had a million questions, but the real question, the only one that really mattered to them, was 'Did I have anything on The Supermodel and the Seamonster'”
“You DID have a camera hanging around your neck. That must have been a rhetorical question.” I laughed.
Matt laughed back. “I guess so. I guess the real question, although no one ever came out and asked it... was 'what have you got and how much are you asking?'”
“Business.” I smiled.
“I didn't give anyone a direct answer, but promised I would... I was working for you. For your fashion friends, I guess.... it's their material. I was on the clock for them. It's their stuff.”
I nodded. “True.”
I held the silence for a Keller-long time. I could tell it was torturing Matt.
“The material isn't yours to sell.”
Matt remained quiet. And I let him simmer in silence a little longer.
“This is why you sucked as a paparazzo.” I said flatly.
There was a pause while the stunned Matt grappled with how to react to my unexpected declaration. Then he exploded in a guilty laugh.
Good.
“Obviously, the stuff you got that would be more.... action scenes.... the blurry, swoopy, frantic shots and video.... well, they are decidedly NOT what you were hired to shoot. They are of NO use for Ads and fashion spreads.... so getting @reaLI to waive any claims to them should be pretty easy... Leave it to me.” I said, all businesslike.
“But they're probably worth a small fortune....” Matt objected.
“Not unless they decide to pivot and become a news outlet instead of a fashion house. Anyway, they can't use any of it without a signed talent release.” I said gently.
Matt snorted into the phone. “You would do that to them?”
“I would do that. ….FOR you.” I said quietly.
Matt seemed stunned. “I don't want to get you... I uh... don't want Katherine to piss off....”
I cut him off with a dismissive 'pffft'. “Oh, there's plenty of room left on the enemies list.”
I grinned to myself. “It was pretty full when I got it, but if I add to it, it's just more of the same.” I said breezily. “Anyway, I don't think it will make too many waves.... worst case, you won't get your full fee because you didn't complete the assignment.”
“Uh... because we were interrupted... by a shark!”
“Still. If they want to play hardball, you don't get a full fee.... I'll still make sure you get full photographer attribution... you get a pro-rated fee and you get full ownership of any unused material for... whatever use you choose.”
Matt laughed. “Yeah. IF I can get a signed talent release.”
I grinned. “I think what you'll be keeping could probably be considered 'eye witness news footage' all gathered outdoors in public. I think even if your subject balked.... which I don't see happening... you would have little trouble making a legal case for use of your material with or without the permission of the subject.”
Matt let out a sigh. “Yeah. I guess you're right. I guess I don't need your ...or anyone's... permission if I can make a case the material IS my property..... I had thought I'd need a signed....”
“I stand corrected.” I loudly interrupted. “THAT is why you sucked as a paparazzo!”
Matt laughed.
We agreed I'd 'work it out' with Rei, Andy & Jamal. Which wouldn't be an issue since the whole shoot was my idea and being bankrolled by Hauteshot's angel infusion. Matt didn't need to know that. Rei Andy and Jamal were more than happy to just get the 'fashion shots', and for the considerable buzz around the shoot which was getting them a fair amount of collateral publicity.
I did insist that Matt work with Dennis over how to market his material.
Dennis dutifully complied with my request, but he seemed quite ambivalent. I don't think he ever expected himself to be on the selling side of the paparazzi food chain. I pointed out that he knew the market and the players better than anyone else on our small team. I teased that this was his chance to make the parasite press pay, and no one knew better how much the market would bear, than someone who had been on the receiving end of the celebrity scandal machine. I think I made him feel a little better about what I was asking him to do. He wanted to help Matt make as much as he could on this nearly as much as I did. I also reminded him that Matt hadn't planned any of what happened... he just happened to be in the right place at the right time... with a camera. I almost had him convinced that it would be immoral to suppress the photos... but I began to feel I was overselling, so I backed off.
Still, I managed to assuage Dennis' ambivalence over selling the pictures to the sensationalist press.
Calming his dismay at combing through those often alarming pictures and videos, was harder.
I would frequently keep an eye on Dennis and Matt poring over his photos and videos. Whenever I'd see Dennis getting wide eyed or blanching at something, I'd interrupt them by loudly announcing “Still HERE.” And waving an arm from head to toe like a game-show model. “Still intact!”
I realized I was using that same disruptive distraction technique I first ambushed Eoin with on that morning show at the beginning of our North American tour.
Next time I saw Dennis and Matt look shaken staring at a photo, I cupped my hands to my mouth and shouted “Spoiler Alert! She LIVES....” with a smug grin.
That did it. Their dismay turned to nervous relief as they laughed along with me. I think I successfully derailed their emotional reaction going over those admittedly disturbing pics and vids.
Once I was sure Dennis and Matt were OK, I was free to huddle with Mikey and get back to planning our Luau stunt.
It wasn't easy, but once again my amazingly resourceful team of collaborators managed to make the improbable and hopefully unimaginable seem downright unavoidable.
##
I got a few hours sleep before getting ready for the Luau.
It occurred to me after everything I had put them through, it would be polite to invite Matt and Nancy to join us at the Luau.
“Nancy's already going.” Matt said with a chuckle. “I think her aunt is afraid to leave her alone after what you did to her.”
“Hey!” I protested. “She can't think any of that was actually my idea?”
Matt chuckled. “I don't think she knows what to think of you. Anyway, she's dragging Nancy along to the Luau whether she wants to go or not.”
“I'll talk with Colleen at the Luau. You said Nancy is doing better?”
“Not better” Matt said, “but you've definitely changed her playlist. I really do think this will be easier to fix. OK. Yeah. Maybe better.” he conceded.
“Can her aunt see that?” I asked uncertainly.
“Maybe not yet. But she will.” Matt smiled.
“OK. Nancy is already going. So. …..Wanna come?” I grinned into the phone.
“Should I bring my camera?” I could hear the smile in Matt's voice.
“I have every expectation that tonight will be MUCH less exciting.”
Matt laughed.
“But just as surreal. So yeah. Bring your camera. It's your cover for being in my entourage anyway, but I'm optimistic you'll get some …..good stuff.” I beamed.
##
Mikey and Dennis assured me we were all set for the corporate Luau. Dennis even bragged that he got the bar to stock Absinthe especially for me, but Avitae proved difficult to wrangle, so I would have to settle for plain water.
“Absinthe and agua is still A&A” I smiled. “Anyway, this time I'm planning on nursing ONE all night!”
Dennis smiled and nodded. “Still, it's affairs like this that prompted Katherine to come up with that tamper-resistant drink. I wouldn't let you go in there defenseless.”
“I already had Mikey working on a fallback.” I smirked.
“I told the event coordinator that Ms Keller had specific dietary requirements.” Mikey beamed. “Including a non alcoholic fruit based refreshment that she wanted to make available to everyone who chose not to patronize the bar.”
Dennis shot us a look. “Fruit based refreshment?”
I smiled “All totally vegan. Apple, pineapple, passionfruit, guava, papaya, apricot, orange. Here they just call it punch.”
Dennis processed this for a moment. I saw the grin slowly form across his face.
“Hawaiian Punch?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
“Here it's just punch. In Canada, they call Canadian Bacon 'Bacon'. In America they call American Cheese 'Cheese'.” I smiled.
Dennis rolled his eyes. But he couldn't suppress his grin. “So you had them stock the Luau with Hawaiian punch.” he snorted.
“Well, I didn't know you'd be able to score me A&A. I had no idea they had Absinthe in Hawaii.” I looked Dennis in the eye. “Have YOU ever seen a Hawaiian goth?”
Dennis laughed out loud. “There are a LOT of things I never expected to see. But since knowing you, less and less surprises me.”
We got to the Luau more or less on time, still, from the rambunctious crowd, it looked like it had been raging for hours.
“Welcome to the real shark pool, hon.” Dennis said quietly into my ear as we left the car.
“It looks more like a frat party than a Luau.” I observed.
“Bullseye. All these tightly wound type-a corporate strivers put on a loud shirt, stupid straw hat, pour some rum down their throats and morph into extras from all those bawdy teen comedies they loved as horny teens. Watch your ass.” He warned.
I nodded. Then Dennis shook his head and grinned.
“No. That wasn't an expression. That's a literal warning. These guys are out of control. A lot of the women too.” He flashed a jaded grin.
“Good to know. Shields up.” I grinned. Dennis gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder, slid his arm down around my waist and we sauntered into the chaos.
“THERE she is!....” Eoin proclaimed from across a sea of boisterous revelers. He pried himself from a gaggle of women who were virtually hanging all over him, fondling him like a coveted trophy.
“Sweetie!” I exclaimed loudly and held open my arms as he quickly scurried through the throng and fell into them.
“What the hell took you so long?” he whispered as he appeared to be nuzzling my neck.
“You seemed to be getting along rather well without me.” I whispered back into his ear. “Am I going to have to have you dusted for prints later so I know where to send my green monster?”
Eoin shuddered slightly. “My god. I thought they were going to eat me alive.”
I chuckled. “Don't worry. They wouldn't dare. They need you for Spartacus. For the moment, you have a stand-in.” and I motioned my head in the direction of the large boar roasting on the spit.
Eoin let out a small laugh. “Poor bastard.”
I nodded. “Yeah. His last film went over budget and underperformed.” I laughed.
“Thank God we're a hit.” he chuckled.
“Have you seen Dez, Colleen or Cyril?” I asked.
“I thought I saw Colleen with that creepy quiet girl. I think Cyril got lucky with a hula girl. I saw them sneaking out a few minutes ago. And Dez...... yeah, over there.” and he pointed to a large mob of people.
“I don't see any pitchforks, and the tiki torches all still seem to be on their stands, but still.... think he'd welcome a rescue?” I smiled to Eoin. He returned the smile and we tore into the drunken crowd like a coast guard cutter.
“Ah! HERE are our stars!” Dez loudly exclaimed as he glimpsed us through the crowd pressing in on him. The boisterous crowd turned and eyed us like hungry animals.
I felt Eoin falter and begin to slow down, so I pressed my palm into the small of his back and propelled him along with me. Pasting on a large smile and saying through my bared teeth “Remember. ...Rescue!”
“Oh my goodness. Thank you everybody! This is so overwhelming. You really didn't have to do all this!” I permasmiled gesturing at the large Luau spread. I knew they thought I was thanking them for doing this for us, when we all knew it was just an excuse for them to let their hair down and get unhinged in a judgment free environment.
The mob all smiled and raised their tiki mugs.
“Who's empty?” I shouted with a huge grin. “Next round's on me!”
And with that everyone lowered their hoisted drinks and stampeded to the bar.
Suddenly freed from his crowd of 'admirers', Dez smiled glancing from Eoin to me.
“You do know, this is an open bar event?” He flashed a sly smile.
I grinned and nodded. Looking at the throng accosting the poor bar crew. “I guess they forgot?”
Dez snorted. “Half of them probably don't even remember their own names.” He then turned to Eoin and me. “If you want to skip your performances, that's fine. It's not exactly an attentive crowd. No matter how hard you knock yourselves out on stage, no one will remember a thing the morning after.”
“That's why I brought a witness.” I cocked my thumb in the direction of Mikey and Dennis guarding a teetering Matt on his crutches from the drunken stumbling crowd. Dez saw the large DSLR around Matt's neck.
“Do you ever worry that you'll oversaturate the tabloids and they'll become sick of you?” Dez grinned.
I rolled my eyes.”Oh, God. If I thought there were even a chance of that I'd do whatever it takes to get them over their Katherine Keller fixation.”
Dez shot me a glance. He knew I meant it. If I could find a way to get the paparazzi off Katherine's back before she returned, I would do whatever it took. But we both knew that was a pipe dream.
“So,” Dez asked “...should we get your performances done before this whole event devolves into a giant melee?”
“Or an orgy” I muttered. Eoin snorked.
We all safely retreated to the crude stage area and prepared for our performances. Dez said something about Colleen and Cyril planning a duet, but that Cyril seemed to be M.I.A. And Colleen appeared to have her hands full with her niece and the drunken executives. Eoin and I quickly agreed that we could pick up any slack. Given the attention span of the crowd, shorter was better anyway. Since Eoin only had to get into his priest garb, we agreed he'd go first since I confessed I'd need a little more ….prep. That brought raised eyebrows from Dez & Eoin, but they quickly shrugged it off. I guess they figured they would find out soon enough.
The musicians at the Luau were quite good. They accompanied the orchestral stem Kirk sent along, and Eoin's performance of “Call me Father” was surprisingly true to the version in the film. Which really means it was a bit of a snooze, and could not hold the attention of the inebriated crowd.
As he left the stage, a bit glum over the lackluster reception, I tried to console him.
“Look at this crowd. Nothing's gonna move them short of Louie Louie …. or maybe Chumbawumba” I laughed.
Eoin smiled and nodded. “You seem pretty cheerful for someone who is going to face the same crowd...only even drunker the longer you take.”
“They're not the ones I want to entertain tonight.” I shot him a wicked grin and a wink. “Oh, by the way. You may want to leave the costume and collar ON tonight. It may help dampen the …ardor... of your admirers.”
He grinned and nodded, refastened his collar and slipped out to join the crowd.
Mikey helped wrangle my ...props... while I got into my costume.
I discreetly slid over to the musicians to confirm that they were on board with the plan. They grinned and nodded. They got Kirk's charts and the mp3 of the original song. They were clear on the changes I wanted made to the arrangement and had worked on it all afternoon. They assured me that I would not be disappointed.
“Remember” I smiled. “There is no such thing as over the top here. Trowel it on as thick as you can then trowel it on some more. OK?” They all grinned and nodded.
I beamed at them. “Alright then. Let's turn some heads!”
The orchestral opening from the MP3 Kirk sent blared over the sound system and a handful of heads turned, but most just kept to their drinking and talking even louder to get over the music.
But when the slide guitar came in where anyone who was paying attention expected to hear a string section, a few more heads in the crowd turned to the stage.
It was clearly, unmistakably recognizable as “Anywhere... from here.” Dez's none too subtle ...'tribute'... to Julie Andrews opening number in The Sound of Music. Only this was the plaintive song of the young shepherdess lonely on her distant ranch, pining for the exciting world beyond her limited vistas.
The number worked surprisingly well 'Hawaiianed up' with local instruments and an extremely pronounced Polynesian feel. I wandered onto the stage in my grass skirt and cartoonish coconut bra gently swaying to the rhythm of the ukelele. Wireless mic in one hand and a bamboo looking shepherds staff in the other, followed by our ...props. Eleven live sheep. I wasn't sure they would follow me onto the stage, but I acted like a shepherdess and apparently fooled them, because they just wandered along behind me. I put the mic to my lips and sang the number pretty much straight, only keeping to the beat of our new arrangement and swaying my hips like a hula dancer. I was beginning to get the drunken crowds attention. But the sheep were quickly getting bored. They just milled around the cramped stage. Mikey had blocked off their one avenue of escape once we all took the stage. I planted my feet firmly so I wouldn't trip over the milling sheep and was grateful the mic was wireless.
I played it absolutely deadpan. Between the swaying polynesian arrangement and the flock of live animals surrounding me, I could afford to underplay this. It did not take too long for one of the sheep to notice my grass skirt. And as soon as one noticed, the other soon followed...like... uh...
Well, if there was anyone still ignoring us, THAT got their attention. Confusion turned to mild alarm, but quickly it devolved into uprorious amusement while I tried to finish the number while my skirt was being attacked as if by a school of piranha. My demeanor went from anguished sincerity at the opening to escalating panic as I flailed at the munching mob, shoving them away with my staff, trying to hipcheck them while still keeping the hula sway, and seeming to actually conk one or two with my staff, although in truth, I pulled back at the last minute and barely even made contact, like a stunt-punch. I hoped I gave a performance that would have made Lucille Ball proud, and judging by the reaction of the audience, it was working as planned. They didn't need to know that we deliberately did not feed the sheep from the moment we picked them up for this performance. Or that the grass skirt was sprayed with a sugar glaze, just in case the sheep didn't take the hint from the fragrant fresh cut skirt itself. Maybe it was overkill. But it seemed to work. By the time the number was nearly done, I was soldiering my way through the song with escalating panic on my face and the sheep were working their way precariously close to the waistline. They were nearly done when I finished, so I discreetly released the drawstring and the next tug of a gnawing sheep pulled the entire garment off and into a heap they immediately descended upon.
I splayed my hands over my 'naughty bits' and scurried off the stage. Although if anyone had been playing close attention they might have noticed the small 'pineapple skin' thong I wore to accompany the coconut bra - Andy's inspired idea and fabricated on Rei's brilliant machine. I don't know who had the notion to put the pineapple leaves in a very suggestive place, but I applaud their devious imagination.
The reaction from the crowd was rather ….buoyant.
OK. They kinda went nuts. But I'll blame the alcohol. I tried to get back to Mikey and get dressed, but the crowd stormed backstage and I was clearly not going to make it.
A caterer was just beginning to set up a table near the roasting boar when I swooped in and stole the tablecloth out from under him, trying to wrap it around me like a sarong.
Dez and Eoin quickly came to rescue me from the mob and the three of us formed a wedge to slice through the crowd.
“Well, I'll never be able to hear that number the same way again.” Dez laughed.
“I hope you're not offended.... I just figured 'when in Rome'....” I shrugged with a smile.
Dez laughed and gave me a squeeze.
“And you even used real sheep!” Eoin laughed. “Didn't they have to CGI them in the movie?”
I turned to Dez who shot me a sly grin. “Apparently you get along a lot better with these than the ones we tried when filming.”
Oh crap. She didn't perform with real sheep in the movie?
I just looked at them ...um... sheepishly. “They weren't THAT well behaved.” I nodded down to the tablecloth wrapped around me. “I was supposed to have help. I thought we booked Babe to help with the herd....” then I turned and scowled in the direction of the roasting spit. “But it looks like the suits got to him first.”
Dez and Eoin laughed politely at my cynical joke, then Dez suggested that we power-mingle and slip back to our hotel before things got too wild.
Eoin and I fell back into the routine we developed for the first meet and greet. He would say unctuous things, I would appear distracted, disrupt the conversation with something random and alarming and we'd move on. I noticed that the rowdy execs were always trying to buy me drinks, whenever they'd ask what I drank, I'd reply that the bartenders know. So I was constantly being handed fresh absinthes. Well, not so fresh, because most of them were milky green. Oh my god. These guys really DID think they were in some horrible 80s frat comedy where date-rape was a punchline.
I had only planned to nurse one absinthe all night, but I kept dumping the tainted ones into the large punch bowl, since it seemed to be merely decorative and everyone at the luau was getting rum drinks from the bar.
I have no idea how many milky drinks I dumped, but it was a miracle the bar didn't run out of absinthe. How much did Dennis have them stock?
Even when I had a clear one I could politely nurse, it seems the moment my attention wandered, I'd look down at the drink in my hand to see it had turned cloudy. These guys were as skilled as pickpockets. And a lot less savory.
I managed to get through the night unscathed, while the crowd continued to get more drunk and rowdy. By the time they were ready to start carving up the boar, I played the vegan card, feigned squeamishness and excused myself back to the hotel.
I said my polite goodbyes to Dez and Eoin who admitted they were not far behind. It seems Colleen and Nancy had slipped away even earlier when it hadn't been half as rowdy. Dez assured me that at this point no one would know or care that the alleged 'guests of honor' had bugged out early. The mood had evolved from old R-Rated politically incorrect frat farce into full blown suits-gone-wild bacchanalia.
Our little group got home before midnight. On the ride back, Matt confirmed that he got a LOT of good stuff. Not just my performance, but some really over the top shenanigans by the drunken executives. He showed me some playback from his camera. Apparently I wasn't the only one dumping my drink in the punch fountain. Many disgusted females seemed to be doing the same thing. I didn't know if they had a litmus test like Katherine's, of if they just knew their loathsome coworkers too well and were being preemptive.
We all had a light midnight snack from room service and declared it a successful night.
Dennis woke me the next morning at 9.
“Can you take a call from Mister Lehmann?” he grinned. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and nodded as he handed me the phone.
“So now you know.” He chuckled.
“Know what exactly? Why Katherine needed a break? Why she's always in and out of rehab? Why the net is filled with pictures of her kneeing guys in the groin or crowning them with an empty liquor bottle? Why you brought me in to be her decoy?” I laughed.
“I guess I'd have to say all of the above.” he laughed. “I just wanted to make sure you survived the night unscathed.”
“Except for a few small sheep hickeys, but that was my own fault.” I kidded.
“It appears you left just in time.” Dez said wryly.
“Do tell. What did we miss?” I looked to Dennis and Mikey who was wandering into my bedroom staring at his iPad with such an evil grin on his face. “Do you mind if I put you on speaker? My P.A. Dennis is here and my cousin Michael. Since we all missed it, can you fill us in?”
Dez agreed and I turned the speaker up on my phone.
“Eoin and I stayed for the meal, but quickly the toasts became ….rather inappropriate... and we decided the politically expedient thing to do was thank our hosts and slip away. But we didn't get out before the event coordinator informed our hosts that the bar was being closed and the guests were shut off. That didn't go over well at all, and Eoin and I became concerned that we were not going to be out of there before the police arrived. Eventually a compromise was reached, I assume some ...private transactions... were made and it was agreed that the guests could stay and continue the feast and celebration, but the bar was not negotiable and the guests were shut off. So they had to resort to punch.”
“Oh, shit!” I snorked and dropped my phone, which fortunately landed on the bed.
I could feel the heat in my face and knew I must be red as a papaya... as red as that 'special punch fountain' I insisted on. I clamped both hands over the grin on my face and stared at Dennis and Mikey who both returned my devlish grin.
“Hello? Are you there?” I heard Dez's muffled voice from the crumpled bedsheets as I retrieved my phone.
“Yeah. Sorry. I dropped my phone. So you were saying.... how long did you guys stay?”
“Things had already devolved by that point, so we just headed back to the hotel. I got the distinct impression the argument with the management was the break between halves. The crowd seemed to be catching their second wind ready to resume the party, if only with punch.” He said.
“A nice Hawaiian punch.” I muttered, grinning to Dennis and Mikey.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I snickered.
“Well, maybe that was all for the best. Because it really felt like the night was ready to devolve into a melee like you said.” Dez chuckled.
“I think Eoin said melee.” I corrected.
“Oh. Right.” Dez remembered.
“I said orgy.” And I shared a wicked grin with Dennis and Mikey.
“Oh. Right.” Dez recalled with a chuckle. “Good thing they were given the punch.”
“I'm sure they were.” I laughed. I was having a hard time keeping it together, and Dennis and Mikey were only making it worse. “So can we expect any more corporate encounters or are we free to move on with the tour?”
“I expect after last night we'll be seeing little if any of our corporate patrons.” Dez chuckled while Dennis Mikey and I fought to stifle our laughs. “So relax, rest up. Well done last night and I'll see you on the plane tomorrow morning.”
I had just enough composure to bid Dez a polite farewell before ending the call and breaking into hysterics with Dennis and my cousin.
I joined Eoin and Matt in the coffee shop, and had Eoin brief us on 'what we missed'. I didn't let on that I had already been briefed by Dez, but wanted to see the expression on Matt's face if Eoin's description was anywhere as detailed as Dez's. I was not disappointed. If anything, Eoin's retelling was even more lurid and juicy, and Matt's expression was priceless.
“Now I'm wishing I'd stayed. I could have made a fortune with those photos!” he opined.
I shook my head. “Not likely. They weren't celebrities or politicians or religious leaders. Regular executives going berserk and acting badly? Not that rare a commodity, I would venture.”
Matt nodded and smiled. “Still, I'd love to have seen the aftermath. When all these folks who wanted to make like they were in their favorite raunchy teen comedy woke up the next day in someone else's underwear and no memory of the night before.”
“That's ONE sequel they won't be clamoring for” I laughed and was quickly joined by Matt and Eoin.
Eoin excused himself to 'seize the day' on our last full day in Hawaii. Matt and I lingered behind.
I squeezed his hand. “I'm really sorry you can't come along with us.” I said with my most sincere face, which then cracked a sardonic smile. “...but it is your own fault passport boy.”
Matt squeezed back. “Oh God. I don't think I could take the rest of the tour. We've only been here a few days and already I feel I've aged years.” he laughed.
“I warned you to buckle up.” I grinned, He just shook his head and smiled.
“You have a knack for understatement.” he chuckled.
We held the moment just a little longer. Each regarding the other.
“So you're heading back to Monterrey tomorrow? Everything is all set. Dennis called ahead and they're expecting you.” I smiled.
Matt wavered his head. “I was actually thinking of heading back with Nancy for a bit. She talked with her aunt and begged off the tour. I think she wants to head home and start getting things sorted out.” he smiled.
“That's a good thing right?”
Matt nodded. “I think so. Anyway, I can't go back to Toronto with her, but she got a ticket to Chicago then a flight to Toronto a few days later, so I figured I'd keep her company a day or so until her family comes to get her, they I'd fly back to California. ….if that's OK with you?”
“Your room's ready whenever you are.” I smiled. “It's good of you to keep Nancy company. She probably shouldn't fly alone.”
Matt cracked a sad smile. “That's just the thing. She's never alone. I didn't want her to fly with just the demons in her head to keep her company.”
I squeezed his hand tighter. “Wise.” Then I sat back in my chair and regarded him for a long while. It would have been awkward if he hadn't been doing the same.
“So, I guess this is it.” I smiled.
He shrugged. “You're still here for the rest of the day. Nancy and I don't leave until tomorrow night. It's not exactly the end.”
I nodded. “True. But there may be other people and it may be busy getting ready to ship out. This may be the last time we...” suddenly my mouth was dry and I was at a loss for words. I cupped his hand between mine. “Thank you....” I shook my head trying to take mental inventory, then I shook my head so he wouldn't notice the tears welling up in my eyes. I put my head down and regarded his hand in mine. Stroking his fingers with my thumb. If I looked at his hand I reasoned he couldn't see my tears. But of course he could hear them in my voice.
“Thank you for..... everything.” I finally choked out. Then I forced a smile and raised my eyes to his. “Go back to school and be the best shrink they've ever seen.... or if Nancy scared you off, be the best boob and ass man Hollywood has ever seen.” I pushed out a chuckle.
Matt pulled his hand from mine and brought it up to my chin. “Thank you.” he said, locking my gaze. “For the story I can never tell and the adventure I will never forget.”
I started an anguished laugh but he cut me off by leaning over the table and planting his face to mine in along languid kiss.
Oh crap.
I was stunned and torn and at a loss how to react.
I returned the kiss.
Screw it. I would deal with the repercussions later. I was taking the long way home, he was heading back to his life. Nothing would ever come of this. We would never see each other again. We just had this moment. I made it count.
Damn it.
It was sweet and tender and oh so melancholy and it was shredding me apart. We gently separated and he ever so ungraciously made a 'graceful exit', hobbling on his crutches while I stared at my coffee cup and fought mightily to pull myself together.
The people at the coffee shop were beyond gracious. They let me linger far longer than anyone should, and gave me the time to cobble myself together. The realization that I'd severely overstayed my welcome was my indication that I might be together enough to pull myself from the table and zombie back to my room, where I pretty much stayed for the remainder of our time in Hawaii.
Dennis saw my face as I came in and we didn't need to say a thing. He just scuttled ahead of me and turned down my bedsheets. He knew me so well, and I liked to think I kind of got him too. Katherine was so lucky to have him and I felt so guilty for keeping him while she was alone in Connecticut. I consoled myself with the thought that they would be back together in a matter weeks and suddenly became overwhelmed at the thought of saying goodbye to him.
My last day in paradise wasn't exactly stellar. I spent most of it wallowing in my own black hole of despair and the thought of everything around me ending. Of never seeing any of these people I had become so close to.... of never seeing any of them again. I took consolation that at least I still would have my cousin Mikey. Then I fell into an even deeper funk realizing that his goal was to return to L.A. and get a toe in the business, which seemed quite likely by now. That Greek guy really did seem interested in the project Mikey and Dennis pitched. And Dennis told me privately that Mikey really impressed NiNo, and he was pretty certain something would come out of that. I barked a bitter laugh at the thought that I would be all alone at home, starting a new life on my own terms. Quite likely with my family deciding I'm 'dead to them', while my cousin is back in California working side by side with Dennis on projects with Katherine and Costas and NiNo and Dez and God knows who else he met because I stepped into Katherine's world and he was by my side all the way. But he had a return ticket to that world.
It wasn't jealousy or envy. It was the bitter irony that a door had opened leading to promising possibilities for all but the one who opened it.
I was stewing in my own misery and Dennis, God bless him, left me alone with my dour thoughts. This was no way to spend the last day in paradise, but I did anyway and he had the grace to let me.
Well, mostly.
I spent most of the day wallowing in self-pity. It was late afternoon, or maybe early evening when I heard the gentle knock on my door.
“Sweetie?” Dennis asked ever so gently. “Can you come out?”
“Would you please go away?” I asked. I didn't have the heart to make anything a statement, let alone an order.
“No Hon. I'm afraid I can't. Can you come out please?”
I ignored him. He had the good grace to wait a long time before knocking again.
“Please come out? The doctor's here.”
Doctor?
I was devastated, but I wasn't..... I certainly didn't need a doctor. My morose self-pity was being displaced by resentment. Why on earth would someone call a doctor? I didn't need a doctor! My resentment turned to outright indignation and that motivated me to throw my covers to one side and leap from the bed to grab my robe and throw open the bedroom doors... which were never locked, so Dennis had been exceedingly courteous in letting me have my little petulant hermit moment.
My self pity had completely turned to ire as I stormed out into the suites living room to see Dennis standing with..
“Doctor Kari.... Kara....” damn I couldn't get it, and not just because I was stunned to see her.
“Janice. Remember?”
I nodded mutely. Suddenly there was a scramble in my mind as a thousand questions jockeyed for pole position in my speech center. But she beat me to it.
“Dale is unable to reschedule some prior commitments, so he asked if I'd come.” she smiled.
I cocked my head like a confused dog.
“Did you really wrestle a shark?” she asked. Her face showed a mixture of disbelief and wonder, since she had already shared with me her guilty obsession with Katherine's hijinx.
Dennis barked a laugh as I shook my head mutely.
“She just rode it.” Dennis laughed, relishing the bewildered look on Janice's face.
“It's a long story” I muttered.
“Still, it's one you'll want to hear.” Dennis laughed.
Janice looked at us, one to the other. She seemed to be trying to process things.
“Well, when word started to hit the nets, Dale and I talked, but he was sure it was just some Rashomon thing, with all the eyewitnesses saying something different. All crazy, but different. Then some photos and video started showing up on the magazine shows. And it was still crazy, but it was apparent that something had happened. Dale tried to reach you, but someone wouldn't put him through.” She shot Dennis a look that was disapproving in a mom way, but not actually angry.
“He was just protecting me. I had a rough night and he just... he just let me have the space.” I said quietly, smiling to Dennis, who for his part just nodded and blushed.
“That's what I told Dale.” She smiled at Dennis too. “And he DID give him the number of that photographer who took all those alarming pictures.”
“Matt.” I smiled. And the thought of him made me want to cry again. I quickly pivoted. “You remember him. ….from the ballgame? The USC student?”
Janice smiled and clucked her tongue. “Small world.”
I blushed.
“So he talked with Dale and agreed that it might be a good idea that you had someone to ….work through this... with.” she said gently. “Especially since he didn't have a passport and had to leave the tour at Hawaii.”
Oh crap. I was getting ready to blubber again. Damn it girl. Pull it TOGETHER!!!
“But he had some hard commitments, so he called me and asked a favor.” she smiled.
“Thank you.” I said in a small voice.
“It's my pleasure. ….and my delight.” she smiled. “I told you when we last met that I wouldn't rule out our paths crossing again. I had no idea how, but your journey has been so unexpected and so unpredictable, I really had a hard time believing it was goodbye...”
And I exploded into her arms clutching her tighter than emo Ani the Cheerful Tick, and buried my head into her shoulder with wracking sobs.
I'm sure I startled the hell out of her, but she took it amazingly well. She was patient while I regained my composure. We called room service and over dinner I spilled my guts out about my goodbye with Matt and my sense of approaching loss as the Katherine deception was coming to an end. I made it crystal clear, but she seemed to already understand that it wasn't the fame or the luxury or the excitement I was mourning but all the people I had come to know on this journey. And that they were the first ones... the only ones.... who ever knew the real me. And how devastated I was at the thought of them all being wrenched from my life.
I don't know how much Janice was being paid for this preposterous house call, but it wasn't nearly enough. She listened. She didn't judge. She showed immense patience and quiet wisdom when I'd stumble on an emotional gopher hole. She made it clear to me that I may be jettisoning Katherine's life in a few weeks, but I was not going to be abandoned. Not by her. Not by Dale. That had already been agreed upon with Katherine. Whatever collateral damage resulted from this extended ruse, they would be there to work through it with me.
She also took some blood.
“I talked with Dale.” she smiled. “Since there is a very short time until your Katherine role is over, I convinced him that getting some endocrine work started won't possibly disrupt the timetable.”
I thought I knew what she was saying, but didn't want to let myself believe it. I gave her perplexed face.
“You're not going to pop out a pair of boobs before you get to New Zealand” she grinned. “No matter HOW many hormones we give you.”
I smiled so wide it hurt, and I hugged her again. I saw her flinch when I came in, but she let me, and this time it was a gentle hug of gratitude, not a death-clench of abject despair.
“Thank you.” I whispered. “For this. For talking me off the ledge. For coming all this way.” I felt myself beginning to tear up again, but Janice's laugh snapped me out of it. I gave her a curious gaze as she just continued to chuckle at me.
“I'm dying to see your bloodwork, because if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were having your period right now.”
I laughed along with her, still wiping the tear from my eye and wrestling back a sea of conflicting emotions.
I saw Matt again the next morning as he and Nancy saw us all off at the plane. We kept it light and civil. We had already had our private moment. This was just the public scene we both had to play, and we got through it.
Nancy however was a different story.
“I really am sorry for dragging you along on that shoot.” I apologized as I clasped her hands together. “If I had any idea.....”
“How could you? How could anyone?” She shook her head and cast her eyes to her feet, but made no effort to wriggle from my handclasp.
“I thought you were....” she paused a long time, eyes still drilling through the floor, then re-started. “The way you....” another long pause. I sensed another rewind to the home tile and uncertainty which path to take. Finally she raised her head, regarded me for a protracted moment, and said quietly “you're not at all what I expected.”
“Good.” I simply said.
Yet again, my response seemed to throw her.
“Life is all about the unexpected. You have to be open to it and ready to deal with it.” I smiled.
Nancy smirked. “Like getting attacked by a shark?”
“A rather extreme example...” I smiled “...but OK. What happened... happened. There was nothing to do but instantly accept it and decide what to do with the sudden new reality.”
“So you attack the shark.” She tilted her head. At least she didn't seem as freaked out about it.
I shrugged. “I couldn't think of any good responses, so I decided to go for the unexpected.”
“Why?”
“Because everything else seemed sure to end badly and I had NO idea how that would go... making it the least bad option.” I made a small apologetic scowl. It was the best I could explain it.
“And you worked all of this out in... how many seconds?” She shot me a skeptical look.
I shook my head. “I didn't work anything out. No time. It was ….an impulse?... a reflex?....”
She wasn't buying it.
“Sometimes you just have to get out of your own way and live in the moment. Just... be here. ….Now... Just...” I shrugged. “...be in the moment. Stop overthinking. Just... live the moment.”
Nancy regarded me for the longest time. I found myself wondering if that thought had never even occurred to her. And wondering how that could be possible. It seemed so... fundamental.
Apparently she must have finished processing. A slow smile crept across her face and she nodded nearly unnoticably.
“Nothing at ALL like I expected.” she smiled.
“I get that a lot.” I smiled. “I like to think that's a good thing. Like peoples expectations have been ...broadened.”
Nancy nodded. “Well, I sure have a lot to think about.”
“Good.” I nodded with a grin.
Nancy smiled and nodded back, finally removing her hands. “Yes. Good.”
And I began to think this young woman might end up being OK. And maybe even learning to live a little once in a while.
After bidding farewell to those we were leaving behind in paradise, we shuffled back onto our posh chartered plane and settled in for the long jump to the Philippines.
Janice sat with us and once we were airborne, Dennis spirited Mikey away to 'talk business'. I was sure it was just to give us some privacy.
Janice Karidoyanes steepled her fingers and seemed to be studying me.
“So... How are we really doing?” she smiled.
“WE? I imagine your life has been turned upside down with this sudden house call” I smiled. Janice started to speak but I cut her off. “As for myself.... a lot better than last night.” I grinned.
Janice said nothing. She just waited. I knew what she wanted, but among the things I'd learned in all these months of 'being Katherine' was the power of the awkward silence. It seems Janice was just as comfortable with this game of chicken as I was. Finally, I broke a smile and continued.
“I kind of let myself get overwhelmed with inventorying all the things in my life that will have ended in just a few weeks. My head always knew it, but I think it finally reached my heart.” I grimaced.
Janice just nodded. Damn. She was just going to sit there and let me do all the heavy lifting.
“This morning it seemed easier to ...push those things aside... they will be what they will be no matter how much I dwell on them. I need to focus on what needs to be done now. And that is keeping up the razzle and dazzle for the rest of our roadshow.” I smiled slipping back into full 'gleeful twin' mode.
Janice frowned slightly. I think she was finally about to speak, but I cut her off with a raised finger.
“I was upset because all the people I've met over these couple of months... everyone I've come to know and l.. um... everyone who has come to know me ...even as I was coming to know myself... my honest self...” I couldn't help it. I swallowed. Hard. “...everyone... I will be saying goodbye to. And not only are we unlikely to stay in touch, we mustn't stay in touch once Katherine takes her life back. My cousin Michael... the only one I can stay in touch with, will probably be heading back to the states as soon as he finishes school. And he will likely be working with all the people I can't... uh... who have to pretend I never existed. And I will be home. Alone. Starting a new life from scratch.” I said quietly.
Janice wavered her head. “You won't be entirely alone. We discussed this at Dale's. You'll have people.”
“Therapists and specialists and such. I know. But it's not the same.”
“No. It's not.” Janice conceded. That caught me by surprise.
“You will in many ways be starting over.” She said calmly.
I nodded.
“Do you think you're the first one? History is full of people starting over. In fact it could be argued that much of history is about people starting over. As far as fresh starts go, you don't have it so bad.”
I thought about that and had to nod. “True. I speak the language... well, maybe a different dialect... that whole Mars/Venus thing....” I wavered my hand but Janice cut me off.
“You speak the language. No accent.” she grinned.
I grinned back, buoyed by her appraisal.
“I'll have money, so I can get settled and start building my new life without at least basic struggles like food and shelter....” The more I thought about it, the more I realized how fortunate I truly was.
“And do you really think you'll have that much trouble making new friends?” Janice smiled.
I shrugged. “I have no idea. I think the thing that worries me most is that people will notice how much I resemble Katherine Keller.” I scowled.
Janice just smiled. “Honey, I'd bet money people have been noticing that for years. That won't be anything new. AND it might be a little easier....”
“...since I will be living as Laura Claire.” I nodded. Janice returned my nod.
“And once the hormones start kicking in, and you start ...filling out....” she grinned “...well, once you start getting curves, the uncanny resemblance will start to ...soften. I suspect you will look far less like Katherine within a year than you ever did growing up.”
“But I'll still be freakishly tall.” I sighed.
“I didn't say you wouldn't still look like a supermodel” Janice laughed. “Just not so much like Katherine.”
I smiled wearily. I guess because of my size I would always attract attention, but I guess being mistaken for a supermodel was far better than the ways I attracted attention growing up.
“So, when we get to Manila can I have you for a few hours?” Janice asked.
“Uh. Sure... I guess.... what for?” My surprise was obvious.
“Just run some blood tests. Cheek swab. Maybe if we can work it in a DXA....”
“DXA?”
Janice shrugged. “Kind of like an x-ray or catscan. You lay there, we take a picture that can indicate your bone mineral density and body fat distribution. Just a baseline for reference during your endocrine workup. The whole procedure won't take a few hours. All you need to do is keep still and try not to be bored. But resist the temptation to bring a book. It tends to annoy the radiologist.” she grinned.
I laughed. “Sure. It'll give me time to think of how to wow our Philippines fans.”
“Hmm, maybe I should try to book a PET scan too. I'd love to see how that mind of yours works.” she laughed.
We rode along in silence for a while. When Janice finally spoke up.
“So that photographer of yours....”
“Passport boy.” I snorted.
“Yeah.” she grinned. “So if he actually had the documentation, he would have stayed with the tour?”
I nodded.
“All the way to the end? …to Australia?”
I blanched at the thought. “I... uh... I hadn't thought that far ahead.....”
She nodded. “I was surprised to see him traveling with you at all.”
I shrugged. “He had nowhere else to go. I already told you about how we met and how he was the one who helped me find Katherine.... then I saw him at the ballgame and sort of drafted him.”
Janice nodded remembering.
“The work he did there got him a gig with the crew for the soundtrack show.”
“The Hollywood bowl concert.” Janice ventured.
I nodded.
“The one Bianca DeMedici crashed.” she grinned.
“She didn't exactly crash.... I kind of felt I owed her after the ballgame, so we....”
“You mean YOU..” Janice smiled. I shrugged.
“Well, we, I …..she... yeah, it was a setup.”
“It sure looked real.” she grinned.
I shrugged. “Well, we wanted to keep the element of surprise, so except for the orchestra, who we needed for the number, and the security people to sneak her through, yeah.... no one else knew.” I gave a meek smile.
“So you brought that photographer on board for the show and you snuck Bianca DeMedici in to do a duet with you at the concert.” She raised an eyebrow.
I shrugged. “I felt I owed them both. And none of it was charity. Matt's photos were great and I'm sure a lot of them will end up in the CD or DVD or whatever they choose to make. And Bianca... well, you saw it....” I glanced at her expectantly, Janice nodded and grinned. “Well, she brought down the house.... and I think maybe she showed folks in town she can do musical comedy.”
“But you didn't bring Bianca DeMedici with you to Hawaii.” Janice teased.
“Are you kidding? Her wife would have killed me!” I laughed. “Besides, she has a film to flog AND a busy life. Matt, on the other hand, lost his track scholarship and was going to crawl back to Montana with his tail between his legs. Because it was the only option he had.”
“Until you gave him another.” Janice smiled.
I shrugged. “I'm not Mother Theresa. He's a good photographer. You saw his stuff. We put him to work.”
“I'll say!” Janice laughed. “Those shark encounter photos were everywhere... and I didn't see any duplicates. It looks like he sold something fresh to each outlet.”
“Good.” I smiled.
“So how much did he MAKE from peddling those?” she quirked a brow.
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Enough. I hope.” I muttered.
“Enough to go back to school, scholarship or no scholarship?” Janice's eyes were boring into me.
I shrugged. “Hope so. But first he's mending up.”
“Where?” Janice asked as if she already knew the answer.
“Uh. Katherine's. Just for a few weeks until he can get back into school.”
“Does Katherine know about this?” Janice asked. This was beginning to feel like an inquisition.
I shrugged. “Dennis said it was OK. She wouldn't care. He said she likely wouldn't even notice if he was still there when she returned.”
Janice shot me a skeptical look.
“I believe him.” I said. “He told me she doesn't even remember the names of her own house staff.”
Janice nodded. “Dale told me about that.” She shook her head, smiling with mild disbelief.
“I was in a position to help him out and I did. That's all. And I ….Katherine's company got a lot out of him too.” I pressed my case.
“So you don't have any ...feelings for him?” She asked gently.
I shrugged again. “Sure. He was a great help. I don't know what I would have done.... but NO... I don't have those kind of feelings.”
Janice's look said she wasn't buying it. “...for HIM?”
“Right. He's just a friend. He means a lot to me. But just as a friend.”
She nodded but her expression said 'riiight'.
“So you don't have feelings of ...attraction... for him.”
I shook my head.
“Or anyone.”
I felt the heat as I'm sure my face went red as an alarm beacon.
Janice sat back in her seat, flashing me a Cheshire Cat smile.
“Want to talk about it?”
I did NOT want to talk about it! But I knew from her tone of voice that I really didn't have a choice. So I spilled my guts about the Golden Greek, from our awkward encounter at the bar to Dennis catching me in the middle of that dirty dream. I knew I really had to talk this out with someone, and Janice seemed to be the best possible choice.
“Still. I'm not sure how much of my reaction was because I really may have had too much to drink...”
“May have? You said you had five absinthes.” she teased. “And the alcohol didn't get you aroused. It just ...reduced your inhibitions.” She smiled.
I shrugged. “I won't even argue that for the moment. Still. The encounter in the rest room... was I reacting as a female? ...or was I just reacting as a lonely person?”
Janice gave me a hard stare. “No one knows the answer to that better than you. So what was it?”
“Honestly I don't know.” I blew out air in frustration. “I was hoping you could tell me.” I smiled apologetically.
Janice shook her head with a knowing smile. “That's not how it works. You talk. I listen. Why don't you tell me?”
I sighed with frustration. “Was I aroused? ….yes... but again, I'm not sure that it wasn't just because it was the first time anyone... of any gender... seemed interested in me.”
Janice smiled. “And he was interested in you as a woman.”
I nodded. “That's what he saw. That's what he thought. He thought I was Katherine.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
“A little guilty. That I was leading him on. That I wasn't who he thought I was.”
“You felt guilty about him thinking you were Katherine.”
I nodded.
“Not because he thought you were female.”
I felt my face flush.
“And later that night. Your dream... did you react to him as a female? Or simply as a lonely person?”
I hung my head and somehow knew I managed to go even redder.
“So is it safe to say you were aroused by this gentleman?”
I nodded ever so slightly. My head still hung in my own mortification. Like a little kid who got caught when she tried to cover something up.
“Attraction happens.” Janice said airily. “So you're human. Deal with it.”
That snapped my head up to stare at her in disbelief. I was expecting at least a lecture. Her breezy dismissal of my guilty confession stunned me.
“That's it?” I was incredulous. “Just 'Attraction happens – deal with it'???”
Now it was Janice's turn to shrug. “Welcome to the world the rest of us have been dealing with since we were teens.” She smiled, but it was not unkind.
“Excuse me. I still AM a teen. At least for another 13 months.” I pointed out.
Janice softened. “I meant by 14 or so the rest of us have learned this awkward lesson.” Then she gave me a gentle smile. “But you're only a few years behind the curve. You're so mature, I keep forgetting your actual age.”
I nodded. I was so used to playing the 20 something Katherine, that I forgot my own age myself. Although, truth be told, I sucked at being a teen. My mum always said I was 'an old soul'. I think that was her polite way to say she knew I enjoyed spending time with her, curled up in front of the TV watching old musicals more than I did spending my nights socializing with my 'peers'... most of whom ignored me, except for the core few who actively despised me. I guess I never acted my age.
“OK.” Janice began. “We know you experience ….arousal... and ….desire....”
I sighed. “Stop trying to soft peddle it... Fine. I get horny. I admit it.”
She laughed. “Alright. No soft peddling. ...are you telling me this is the first time you've experienced arousal?”
I couldn't read her expression. I expected to see skepticism, but I only saw patient expectation. She was placidly waiting for my answer.
“Uh... for a guy... yes.” I mumbled.
“You've had feelings for women?” She asked. Again, her inflection betrayed no emotion. Not surprise or doubt or judgment... or anything.
I nodded. “There was this girl in school. Courtney Noyes. I was kind of obsessed her most of the school year. She was really pretty... her hair was always perfect and I don't think she ever even had a zit. She looked like she walked out of a magazine. She had amazing fashion sense and was always so together. And she was really really popular. She was always surrounded by her equally cool friends and they always seemed to be having so much fun.... I knew I was invisible to her, but I always wished that I could find a way to at least get her to ...notice me... and maybe say hello. I didn't expect her to dump Brian Mullins her rugby player boyfriend for me or anything. I just wanted her to notice that I even existed.”
Janice said nothing for the longest time. She just kept gazing at me.
“Who wanted this girl to notice?” She said quietly.
“I did.”
“Lorenzo Carlton or Laura Claire? Because the way you described it, it sounded like a high schooler from the lower social castes who longed to be one of the cool kids.”
I nodded. “....I guess there was some of that.”
“Who wanted to hang with the popular girls.” She said quietly, eyeing me.
I felt the heat in my face and could guess at the color.
Janice gave me a kindly smile. “You didn't say 'there was this smokin babe in school and I really wanted to jump her bones'”
My fingers flew to my mouth too late to cap the startled laugh after hearing those unexpected words come out of her mouth.
Janice continued. “You described this girl, her perfect hair, her perfect skin... I presume the 'out of a magazine' comment was a nod to her fashion sense...”
I shrugged. I guess so.
“And all the fun she was always having with her cool friends.... sounds less like teen lust and more like ….envy?”
I thought about it. I shrugged again with an embarrassed smile.
“I would go so far as to speculate that you didn't want to DO her... you wanted to BE her... or at least one of her circle.”
Once again, my face answered for me. There must be some way to control or override the blush reflex.
“So the feelings.... the attraction... you felt for this girl.... or any other girls growing up. How would you compare them to what you felt for that business guy?” She asked with a slight smile.
I knew it was a rhetorical question.
Janice just smiled. “I don't want you to answer. Just.... think about it.”
“For a moment I was afraid you were going to say sleep on it” I grinned. “And we already know how that goes!”
Janice laughed and squeezed my hand. She shook her head slightly.
“And all Dale's given you is blockers. I worry that when we actually get you on hormones, we may have to lock you in a convent!”
I blanched at the thought, and Janice instantly realized her little joke didn't go over as intended.
“You'll be fine.” she soothed with another gentle hand squeeze.
I relaxed.
“Horny, maybe. But fine.” she grinned. And my mock scowl assured her that this joke landed properly.
I called a little break so we could stretch our legs on the long flight. I introduced Janice to everyone as my personal physician, then joked that I suspected Doctor Dale sent her to keep me out of any future trouble.
I don't think most people realized I was joking.
Janice spent a good part of our flight chatting with Colleen McLagan. I know they talked about Nancy and I think they talked a bit about me. Whatever Janice said, it helped. Colleen was once again more relaxed around me.
Meanwhile I put my head together with Michael since Dennis seemed to be M.I.A, trying to come up with suitable mischief for our visit to Manila.
All those plans flew out the window when we landed and unpacked at our hotel. Dennis had been quite scarce on the flight. At first I thought it was because he was giving me some space to chat with Janice. But even after our talk, when she was sitting with Colleen, he remained absent.
Dennis excused himself as we were getting off the plane, saying he had an errand he needed to do and that we'd talk at the hotel.
This was really unusual behaviour, but everytime I'd express concern or ask if everything was OK, he would just brush it off with a laugh, saying it was the 'same old same old ...only more so'. I presumed it was Katherine business, and thought that with her due to return in a few weeks, she was running him ragged getting up to speed.
Michael and I were just unpacking when my phone rang. I was not surprised that it was Dennis.
“Katherine needs a favor.” He said awkwardly.
I was not surprised that it was Dennis. “Katherine needs a favor.”
“So what else is new?” I laughed. “Does it involve being auctioned off? Parading half naked in front of an auditorium full of people – and network TV cameras? Recording an album under her name?” I was joking, but Dennis' demeanor became even more shy and uncertain.
“Uh. This is kind of a lot more.”
All the while we were talking on the phone he must have been making his way to me because he burst through the door as he was finishing his last sentence into the phone. I began to sense it on the phone, but the moment I saw his face I knew how uncomfortable he was... being the one charged with requesting the favor.
I tried to make light of it and ease his obvious discomfort.
“If she wants one of my kidneys or lungs, I'm drawing the line.” I smiled.
He relaxed a little, and managed a weak smile. “It's not quite that bad.”
“OK.” I grinned. “At least that's something. So, what does she want?”
“A new proposition. Separate from this whole thing you're doing through Mr Lehmann and the studio. This has nothing to do with Thornbirds. It's a whole different thing.”
He must have read the confusion on my face, because he shoved a thick spiral bound book into my hands.
“What's this?”
“Katherine's request.” he said shyly. Then he rallied a bit. “I guess you could consider it more of a ….proposition.”
I was as baffled as ever, and it must have been plain to see on my face. He reached out and touched the book. Which it turns out, wasn't a book at all. It was a script.
“Katherine went out for this ages ago. They called her back a few times, but in the end went with someone else. Margot Robbie actually. So, everything is falling into place. Sets built, crews hired, shooting schedule booked. Then at the last minute, Robbie backs out. Claims she took a spill mountain bike riding and will need weeks of bed rest and months of physical therapy. There were widespread rumours that she was getting more and more unhappy with every script revision, and when she saw the final shooting script, she panicked and bailed. Lawyers and insurance folks sprang into action and are tangling over the injury and breach of contract, but the bottom line is there's a shooting schedule that can't be easily moved, and lots of money on the line. So they went back to the old audition tapes and.... Katherine gets called.”
“So she was their second choice? Like an understudy?”
“Hardly!” Dennis laughed. “No way she'd be anyone's second choice for Margot Robbie.”
I frowned. I wasn't clear why they were asking Katherine and why she was asking ME. Dennis looked at me and smiled somewhat wickedly.
“Obviously they offered it to others and were turned down. Meanwhile the clock was ticking and they were getting... um....” I could tell he was groping for a diplomatic way to put it.
“Like someone in her 40s who really wants a family, but the sand's streaming through the hourglass and suddenly the clerk at the office supply store doesn't look so bad?” I grinned.
Dennis grinned back. “Not how I would have put it.... but essentially, yeah. And there's very little time before shooting begins, and despite their best efforts at secrecy, the script has become more and more notorious with every attempted re-write.... SO... between their growing desperation, Katherine's one time interest in the project, and her greatly enhanced public profile since Thornbirds....” he sighed “They're dangling an insane amount of money to get Katherine on board. ...and fast.”
I raised an eyebrow. I couldn't be understanding him correctly.
“Are you saying, Katherine actually wants me to do...”
“She'll split it 50/50.”
I just stared at him. Trying to wrap my head around this offer. I think Dennis mistook my shock for reluctance, and continued to pitch.
“It's a ridiculous amount of money, and even her half split is more than she made for Birds.... if it's a stinker – and that's almost guaranteed – it's Katherine's reputation, not yours. And she doesn't care. It's not the first time she's done something simply for the money. You'll both be really well paid. But she needs an answer because they need an answer. Like immediately.”
“Can I at least read the script?” I asked. When Dennis said 'immediately' I got the sense he actually meant it.
Dennis shook his head. “Later. And if you say yes, you'll not only have to read it, but memorize it. So yes, you can read the script. But not now. No time.”
“But how will I....?” I began to plead.
“OK. Nutshell. The movie's called 'Hoosier Daddy'. Originally starred Will Ferrell but he pulled out when Margot Robbie did, so now Will Forte is starring as Charles Latimore IV – 'Chip' - an alum of a school like Notre Dame – that was one of the rewrites... Notre Dame got wind of it and threatened to sue.... anyway... spoiled frat kid at prestigious fictional school that's exactly like Notre Dame.. but not.” Dennis grinned. “Back in the day, he was a total party monster barely making grades to stay in school. Rich parents pay his tuition, but won't put a cent to his ...recreational pursuits. So he finds a ….unique way to make his rather heavy party budget.
Cut to present. Our boy has been taken care of by the old boy network... moving up the ladder to more prestigious positions in his dads or dad's cronies companies. He's not awful or evil or even lazy. He's just an unfocused, unmotivated, rich white guy getting carried along from one prestigious gig to another by the old boy network. Until his dad & friends come up with their next career move. Congress. They need a stooge in Washington and rather than hire lobbyists to sway strangers in congress, they decide it would be much more cost effective to put in their own lackey. He's too dimwitted and oddly naive to have any idea what's going on.
Since he is an amiable dunce, the braintrust surrounds him with the best political machine money can buy. Led by longtime political operative Mary Elisabeth Cavanaugh” Dennis nodded at me. I guess that was the Katherine role. “She's a savvy veteran of many political campaigns and a true believer in her causes. So when she sees this barely there child of privilege she's been hired to get elected, she loathes him from the start. He of course is oblivious. They're like oil and water. Typical rom-com. He's a laid back 'what me worry' type. She's a tightly wrapped control freak obsessed with order and absolutely HATES the unexpected. Over the course of the campaign, she's trying to dig up dirt on her candidate. Which is S.O.P. So if the opposition digs up any dirt, she already knows it and has a plan to deal with it. She's surprised to find no skeletons in his closet. In fact nothing at all in his closet. This guy has skimmed through life making almost no impact anywhere. She's disgusted at his banal pointlessness. Then she finds out how he made money all through college. By being the most proficient sperm donor in state history. He used his elite demographic – rich blueblood jock type attending prestigious school - to go from clinic to clinic, being a well paid donor and supporting his serious party habit.
Cavanaugh digs deep and finds out his ...'stock' is responsible for a staggering number of fertilizations ... she guestimates that he fathered close to 1300 children.... that she knows of. He of course has no idea and when confronted laughs remembering his 'genius idea' of masturbating for money. She is appalled at his amused response and apparent lack of understanding at what he's done. She finally can't take any more and snaps. She schemes to sabotage his campaign by inviting all of his 'illegitimate' children to finally meet their genetic dad at a big family reunion. Only it's actually a 'family values' rally she's staging for his campaign, secretly planning to destroy his candidacy and any future in politics the feckless fratboy may have. Needless to say, it goes hilariously awry, and contorts itself to a typical Hollywood ending.”
I smiled. “Thanks. That was way faster than reading the script.”
Dennis' mouth twisted into a smirk. “Girl, that script is such a mess, you could read it five times and still not know what the movie is about.”
“And Katherine wants to do this?”
“It's a sick lot of money. They're desperate and she knows it. She made them pay.”
“And she wants me to do this?”
“Well, you're still here, and they need it fast, and we can't very well have two Katherines traipsing around. A lot of folks think one is too much! Anyway, the movie's a stinker. There's nothing you can do to hurt it. What do you think?”
I was still hesitant. Still partly in shock over the whole crazy suddenness of it.
“You'll get to meet Will Ferrell..... I mean Forte..... and Brian Doyle Murray who plays his dad.... and lots of other stars... and your cousin will be green with envy.... AND.... it is a sick lot of money.”
“Will this mess up the tour?”
Dennis shook his head. “No. If they get Katherine, they will bend over backwards to accommodate her schedule. It does mean some crazy long days and a ridiculous number of air miles. You won't be getting much sleep.”
“Can I sleep on the plane?”
He nodded, grinning. “OK. You will be getting plenty of sleep. They'll supply a private jet to get you between tour and set. It'll probably be at least 4 round trips, and probably 20-plus hour days once you're on set.”
I looked Dennis in the eye. “Honestly. Do you think I can do this?”
He didn't hesitate. “In your sleep.”
“Was that a joke?”
He shot me a look, then his mouth twisted into a smile. “Not on purpose. Maybe more of a prophecy?”
“OK. Tell Katherine I'm in.”
Dennis smiled. “She already said yes. It's a crazy amount of money, so no was never an option.”
“So you tricked me into agreeing, but I never really had a choice?”
“I GOT you to agree, so you'd be doing it willingly. But yeah, no was never really an option. Worst case, Katherine would do it and YOU would be the one stuck in seclusion.” he grinned. “You'd die of boredom!”
I thought about it and couldn't be mad at him. Dennis had talked me into agreeing to do it of my own free will. And we all knew that Katherine was the irresistible force. What she wanted, one way or another, she would get.
“When do we...”
“Already packed!” he cackled as he scurried out of the room. “Plane's waiting” he called over his shoulder. “Take that script. You can read it on the plane.”
“You're going with me?” I asked as we rode to the airfield.
Dennis nodded. “At least this time. Katherine stipulated full travel & accommodations for herself and her P.A.” he did a little nod. “Anyway, Katherine knew you'd need all the help you can get to get up to speed.” he smiled. “I figured we could run lines on the flight to Toronto.”
“We're flying to Toronto?”
Dennis nodded. “For now. They're trying to move the bulk of the shooting schedule to Vancouver, but they were already locked into Toronto before everything went to......” He stopped short and shot me a contrite grin “....before all the changes... recasting the two leads and all....”
I nodded. “Well, I guess flying all the way to Toronto gives me more time to study.” I tried to flash an optimistic grin.
“That's the spirit.” Dennis smiled back supportively. “I think the scenes we're shooting are the initial meeting, the confrontation, and Mary Elizabeth working the phones discovering Chip's ….college job....” He whipped out an iPad and started scrollling. “Let's start on page 110 Scene 84 Larry and Chip enter Mary Elizabeth on phone”
And so began my crash course on 'running lines'.
Dennis was right. The script was nearly incoherent. I thought I was messing up my lines, but he admitted it wasn't me. What was on the page made no sense. I nodded and read it again, wondering how open the director and my costars might be to trying something different on the set.
I didn't ask how open they would be to changing things. Dennis and I thrashed through the pages on the way over and I got a couple hours sleep before we touched down and headed right to the shoot.
We had a very speedy meet and greet with Will Forte and Neil Jenek the director. We chatted briefly and it turned out none of us was the first choice for this gig. I laughed and said something to the effect that it takes off all the pressure, since none of us was who the money wanted.... so the worst we could possibly do was live up to their expectations. Will and I set off for wardrobe and makeup trailers while Neil went off to set up the first shot of our long shooting day. I got the feeling they were thinking about my quip and might be beginning to feel a little less pressure and a bit more ….possibility.
Our first scene was 'the big meeting'. I read it as written as did everyone else. After calling 'cut' Neil the director looked at us uncertainly and said. “Fine. ...next scene?”
I looked at him. “Are they taking film stock costs out of your pay?”
THAT threw him. “What? Huh? Um... it's digital, so there's no....”
“You don't even want to see a second take?” I shot him a look. “You got what you WANT? Or did you just get what you expected?”
He shook his head. “I.... um.... What? You want to go again?”
I shot a glance at my costars who looked at me and shrugged. Clearly they weren't happy with the scene, but I suspected they didn't see how it could go any better.
“I for one would like to try it again, if you don't mind.” I said meekly to the director while shrugging apologetically to my costars.
Neil sighed and said “Sure, why not?”
So we shot scene 85 take 2.
Only this time I kind of ignored the script.
Larry burst through the door, Will trailing behind him looking vacant and distracted, “And this is Mary Elizabeth Cavanaugh your....”
I was on the phone ad-libbing some sort of quiet conversation and throwing in as many political buzzwords as I could think of. I didn't even turn to look at them, I just held up a firm finger and made a loud “Ssssh!”
That stopped them cold. But they were both improv comedy veterans, so.... they improvised.
Larry harrumphed and said. “Miss Cavanaugh is a.....”
I spun and shot him the same Cyclops X-Men stare that stifled the giggles at the Ciregna champagne ceremony. He stiffened and sort of recoiled. I mouthed “ON ...THE... PHONE!” and continued the cheery conversation.
I heard Will Forte's snort, although I had my back to them both as I continued my fictitious phone conversation. I don't know whether that was actually Will smirking or his character, but it was effectively his character now.
He stepped forward and began to put out his hand to shake, I spun in my chair, still talking into the phone, and glared at him like an angry nun at a parochial school. A look and attitude I was well familiar with. I shot out my arm and pointed at the ground.
He stopped as if his feet had suddenly been stapled to the floor. Nearly falling forward from his previous momentum. He looked startled and bewildered as if I had some sort of telekinetic power that took him by surprise. My colleagues were brilliant improvisers and already the scene was infinitely better than our first by-the-book take. And we were only about 10 seconds in.
We milked the guys-trying-to-interrupt-me bit for about a minute more. I knew we were through when Will raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something and I irritably threw a stress ball I'd been getting more and more aggressive with at his face. I thought it would be a funny in-character move. I wasn't sure whether he'd duck it like a dodge ball or let it bean him for a laugh. It was just a tennis ball sized piece of foam after all.
He did neither. As it turned out, just as he was raising a finger and opening his mouth to speak, my toss flew straight at his mouth. He let it. And when it hit its mark, he held it in his teeth for just a moment as he shot me a stunned look - in character. He then spat it out at Larry with a look of disbelief.
We were totally off-script now and I knew we all were thinking 'this is working SO much better'. I kept ramping up my imaginary phone conversation to throw in ever more alarming buzzwords, leaving quasi-political speak behind and throwing in terms more often heard in scandal rags. It sounded like I was calmly collaborating to cover up outrageously sketchy acts by my political clients. Will and Louis – the guy who was playing Larry the campaign manager both caught what I was saying into the phone. Will shot Louis a curious yet concerned look and Louis just gave him a 'nah. No big deal' look and subtle hand wave. Louis cleared his throat. I sighed loudly and said into the phone. “NO. Trappers and the cold weather apparel trade have always been a bedrock industry in the congressman's district. He thought it was a convention of FURRIERS and by they time he realized the dreadful misunderstanding, the police had arrived. As always the press has an agenda and the real public scandal is the crucifixion of a dedicated civil servant by the corrupt media elites eager to steamroll over any decent citizen who stands in the way of their corrupt agenda. I have to go... someone just stormed into my office.” I chirped as I gave an exasperated eye roll in the direction of Will & Louis.
“CUT!” Neil shouted. A large grin on his face.
“Thanks for indulging me and going again.” I smiled politely.
His eyes just sparkled. “Are we good?” he shot a glance to Will, Louis and me.
I shrugged and they just smiled.
“We have a lot to do and not a lot of time to get it done....” I deadpanned to Neil, who smiled, nodded and setup the next scene.
It WAS a really long day. At one point I asked Neil if going so long was a financial problem with overtime and all. He shook it off.
“They are so far behind the eight ball already, it's all about not defaulting on the contract. Money's incidental at this point. They have a hard release date, and the checks have already been cashed. Whatever it takes. Whatever the finished product is.... this movie is getting made.”
He shot me a long look. “When they brought me in I thought 'they are really screwed... no way I can replace Adam MacKay.' And then I heard we lost our two leads.....” He muttered and suddenly realized what he'd said. He shot me an apologetic look. “Sorry..... it's just...”
I smiled. “I get it. I went for it. They didn't want me. They went with somebody else. A VERY different direction..... So I shook it off. It's not personal. It's just business.” I shrugged. Neil shot me a 'me too' look. I think he was sort of surprised that we were kind of bonding.
“So when they were ready to shoot, and suddenly found themselves without their two leads or their 'brilliant' first choice director..... I knew they were desperate.... and we talked.... not personal.... just business....” I shot him a pencil thin smile. “And I made them make it worth my while to come in and try to salvage this project of theirs. I assume you did too.” He just shrugged. “So while it seems like none of us were their first choice and we should be happy that they finally deigned to talk to us.....” I looked him in the eye... SO not a Katherine move, but crucial for this conversation.... “They need US a hell of a lot more than we need them.”
Neil's eyes went wide as he suddenly grasped what I was saying.
“So, if we decide to use the shooting script as mere …..improv fodder..... what are they gonna do?” I crooked an eyebrow.
“Why have we never worked together before Ms Keller?” Neil grinned broadly.
I shrugged. “Because none of us was anyone's first choice?”
He nodded and smiled wickedly. “As you mentioned.... no expectations... no pressure....”
“So the only surprises can be pleasant?” I smiled.
“Let's go find out.” He grinned.
It was a brutally long day, but I felt we got a lot done. I also think we all got on the same page. Maybe that's not the phrase to use, since nothing we did had any relationship to anything on the page. We used the shooting script as a bullet point outline of the narrative structure, but nearly all the actual scenes were pulled whole from our interaction in front of the camera. We knew our characters and where they needed to be at the end of the scene, but we invariably took an alternative – and much more scenic route to get there.
The cast and crew was really bonding into a little family. We quickly caught each others quirks and tells and soon picked up the ability to take a scene in directions we personally had never imagined, but which we divined from our colleagues in the scene.
When we wrapped this segment of our brutal shooting schedule, it was just after 4AM. I decided not to even try to sleep and head right for the airport to get the plane to catch up with the 'Birds tour. I figured I'd sleep on the plane. It was a long enough flight, I should be well rested by the time I started my 'day job'.
As I was gathering my things into the over the shoulder carryon, and leaving Dennis a voicemail about meeting for the flight back, Will and Larry came sheepishly to my little trailer.
“Hi guys” I greeted them cheerfully, but I'm sure they saw the curiosity on my face. “What's up?”
Larry hunched his shoulders and shuffled self consciously. It was Will who finally spoke up.
“I think we all came into this thinking '….it is a gig....' and we've probably all done worse...”
I crooked him an eyebrow. “Have you been checking up on me at Rotten Tomatoes?”
He blushed deep crimson and coughed a laugh. “No. No. I mean, we've ALL.... I mean, look... we were all someones second choice....”
“Second choice?” I cocked my head.
He blushed even deeper. I didn't want to torture the guy, so I deliberately broke the Katherine facade and gave him pure Elsie.
“You mean we were the only ones who returned their calls” I smiled gently. They both grinned at that.
“Well, all I meant was we went into this as something to ….just get through.... to get a check that would hopefully clear when the whole ordeal was done.” Will said sheepishly.
“But what we did today....” Louis started to say before Will cut him off
“That was NOT what we expected we'd be doing”
“That was SO much better!” Louis beamed.
“SO much better” Will agreed with a nod and a smile.
“You've upped our game Ms Keller. We already talked with Neil, and while they're relocating to Vancouver...” Louis grinned.
“...Because some DIVA needs to shave off a few hours of air travel” Will grinned
“We're going to reshoot the stuff we've already done. The scenes before you came.... to be a better fit.... with what we got today.” Larry smiled.
“Seems we're heading in a new direction...” Will grinned.
“No.” Louis put up a finger. “There WAS no direction before today. But now we've found a direction.”
“...and a feel and a rhythm to the story that just wasn't there...”
“...just wasn't here...” Louis said slapping his dog-eared shooting script against my dressing table.
Will nodded. “We've found our voice. We've found our way. Instead of something to get through, this is going to become a lot of fun.” he grinned broadly. “I can't wait to show you what we do.... with the other scenes you're not in.... until you come back in....?”
“10 days last I heard.” I smiled wearily.
“It will be a completely different movie by then.” Louis beamed.
“Great. Guys, it's been a real pleasure.” I said as I glanced at my watch and made for the door. “Just try and leave me a scene or two to steal when I get back?” I winked.
“As if THAT will be a problem!” Louis laughed. Will nodded, grinning.
I shot them a finger wave over my shoulder as I fought to hide my exhaustion and breezed my way to my waiting towncar.
All I wanted to do on the plane back was sleep. But Dennis was well rested and over-curious, so my exhaustion would have to wait.
'Well? How was it?'
I shot him a weary stare. “Can I tell you tomorrow?”
“No. You most certainly cannot! Dish girl. Was it really the steaming mess we thought? How was Will Forte? Did you meet Brian Doyle Murray? Was there anyone else famous there? How was the director? ...Who did they get to replace Adam McKay?”
“Neil Jenek” I groaned groggily. I just wanted to SLEEP.
“Never heard of him.” Dennis tossed off.
“Kinda the point. That's how they got him. Can I just go to sleep?” I near-whined.
“Soon sweetie. So how was everybody? Did you get along with everyone on the crew? Were you nervous? Oh my god, was that script as bad with the actual actors as when we ran the lines?”
“Oh god. You're sounding like my cousin.” I lamented. “Will you PLEASE let me sleep?”
“Just give me something hon. I'm dying to know. And anyway, Katherine is going to want to know. I figure I can email her while you sleep.”
I groaned my surrender. “Fine. Cast & Crew great. We bonded like we were all in high school detention . Very Breakfast Club. Alright fanboy?” I muttered with as much sarcasm as I had strength for.
“So that would make you ….Ally Ringwald?” He grinned.
“Maybe Molly Sheedy.” I wearily shot back. “So yeah. Everyone was great. I wasn't nervous. Like you said, there really was no way to make this worse, so the pressure was off.”
He nodded. “And you managed to get through that compost heap of a script? Did you have any trouble remembering your lines? After all we just...”
“We kind of threw the script out the window.” I half consciously muttered.
“WHAT?” Dennis' loud exclamation again snatched me from the threshold of blissful sleep.
“Yeah. You yourself said the script was a disaster. I just said it out loud.”
“Ohmigod!” He yelped. “What did they DO????”
I let my head roll back against the headrest and flop to one side so I could address Dennis. I no longer even had the strength to hold my neck up. “They all got nervous. Clearly everyone knew it, but no one dared say it. So I did.”
“So WHAT did they DO?” he repeated.
I shut my eyes. I was even losing the strength to hold up my lids.
“They just got all guilty and finally agreed. And they let me try going off book.” I was no longer even sure if I was speaking out loud or just dreaming that I was speaking out loud.
“Off BOOK? Oh girl. What did you DO?”
That must be why I was so exhausted. Dennis was getting more energized as I was getting more fatigued. He must be vampiring my energy somehow. I needed to sleep. Now.
“Took it somewhere else.” I mumbled in my exhaustion. “Worked.”
If Dennis had any more questions, I had no idea. I was OUT. And I slept until he shook me awake.
“Buckle up babe.” He grinned. “Time for your day job.”
I was finally feeling human again. I brought my arms over my head and curled in a lazy stretch. The film was slowly peeling for my brain.
“We're here? Already?”
Dennis barked a laugh. “Already??? Girl that's one killer commute! You're on your OWN from now on.” he grinned. “Since you obviously have things well handled.” He beamed with a twinkle in his eye.
I just blinked. Maybe he thought I didn't understand, but I was actually only trying to get the sleep out of my eyes.
“I emailed Katherine after checking in with some ….contacts... on set and got the whole story. I have to say after my email I think she's pissed at you.” He said with a stupid grin.
I did not have to fake my confusion.
“They tried to give her points but she put on the pressure and made them give her cash.” He smirked. “After my report from my spies on the set, she's thinking she should have gone for a cut of the gross. I think she thinks you cost her money.” He snickered.
I was mortified. “Ohmygod. I didn't try to cost her... how did I shortchange her?”
Dennis laughed. “She was sure it was a bomb so she insisted on cash. A sick lot of cash, but they wanted to guarantee less and give her a cut of the gross. Like everyone else. She was sure she was the only one who was going to come out ahead on this. But after reports we're hearing from the set, she might have made more if she had taken points. Like everyone else. So now, they're all likely to win their gamble while she's stuck with a fixed amount.”
I continued to stare at him while I processed this. “And she's pissed at ME?”
Dennis chuckled. “Really, I think she's pissed at herself for not thinking that somehow you could make this turd work and that points might have actually been a better deal.” Then he laughed out loud. “Of course she got even angrier when the producers asked her agent why she settled for a fixed fee and then came in and 'fixed the movie' ...their words.” Dennis clucked. He was enjoying this.
“So IS she pissed at me or not?”
Dennis shook his head with a smile. “Yeah. She's pissed. REALLY pissed. But it's only that you came in and 'fixed the movie' that was deemed so radioactive.... they had to pay her sick money just to do it. So she's only pissed at you for doing what she never imagined could be done. Which means she's really pissed at herself. She just doesn't realize it yet. But she will. She always does. It will take a few days.” He chuckled, shaking his head. I got a feeling this was 'old times' for Dennis.
“So am I in trouble?” I asked uncertainly.
“Nah. No. Not really.... Just be thankful you're on the other side of the planet. Katherine doesn't like being surprised. Or being wrong.”
“Is that why she's so often angry?” I asked with a sheepish grin.
Dennis smiled and nodded. “Girl, I told you waaay back.... you get her.” and he squeezed my hand.
I knew the storm would pass, Katherine would calm, and that I could still blow it. I had at least two more marathon sessions, and however inspired my costars seemed, it was possible none of us could save this film. And I wondered how Katherine would feel about that.
But right now, it was time to get back to my 'Day Job'.
The Philippines gig was cut short. We did some press interviews but no live events. It seems the movie was less of a cult hit and more of a lightening rod. Conservative Catholic groups were quite upset about the story of a priest who fathers an illegitimate child. But still, Eoin wasn't the one getting the death threats. It seemed there was a much bigger furor over the 'harlet' who tempts the priest to break his holy vows.
“These people DO understand, don't they, that we're actors playing roles?” I asked one of the interviewers, who just replied with a noncommital shrug.
“I didn't grow up on a sheep ranch. Eoin is not really a priest.” I said directly to the TV Camera.
“And Katherine is not really a virgin.” Eoin grinned.
I turned to him. “Not helping here.” I said, fighting mightily to retain Katherine's stone-face.
“It's all pretend. It's a story written almost a hundred years ago. We just retold it. With music. And dance numbers.” I said, still looking directly into the camera.
“And sheep.” Eoin added. Not as helpfully as he intended.
“Well, there were always sheep. Ours were just more ….choreographed.” I smiled to the hosts.
“Eat your heart out Bollywood!” Eoin crowed.
The interviewers finally interjected.
“Have you had incidents like this before on your tour?” she asked.
Eoin and I looked at each other. Was she talking about the death threats or the protests outside the theatre?
“Could you be more specific? What incidents?” Eoin asked our host.
“The death threats.... and the threats against the public appearance. Were there any previous concerns about a bomb at the theatre?”
“Not since the night of the premiere.” I deadpanned. Eoin snorked.
Shaking his head and struggling to regain his composure, he said “This is the first I've heard of any threat. Anywhere.”
I gave our hosts Katherine's polite smile. “We came here to work. And to share our little extravaganza with the lovely people of the Philippines. I must admit, it hurts to find we're not wanted.”
“Not by everyone.” Our host quickly cut in. Her co host jumped in as well.
“It just seems to be a few troublemakers who are making the idle threats.” He seemed almost apologetic.
I smiled politely. “I understand. But are the threats idle? The people handling security don't seem so sure, so we're locked down at our hotel until we leave. I haven't had this little freedom of movement since I was grounded as a child.” I said sadly. That was true. My dad grounded me over something silly. I think it was missing school. Uncle Kevin picked me up on my way to school and said my folks got me out of school for the day to help him. I sat and 'minded' the car while he and his mates did an errand. Before he dropped me home, he told me that I had in fact skipped school, and that if I knew what was good for me, I wouldn't tell my parents or anyone where I had been or what I had been doing.
That was the last time I had been grounded. And this very much reminded me of it. We were all essentially trapped in our hotel, but it seemed I ….Katherine.... was singled out.
“The ultra conservative Catholics are up in arms over the so called 'blasphemy'” Dez explained. “But it's gone beyond that. Certain ultra conservative Imams have decried you as a whore hell bent to despoil and destroy pious men of God.” He smiled wearily.
“You mean my ….Katherine's.... character in Thornbirds.” I corrected. He shook his head sadly.
“I don't think they know the difference. Or care.” he sighed.
“Well that's not fair! Eoins the 'victim' of my seductive charms?” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Temptation, thy name is woman.” Dez chuckled cynically. “Don't blame me. Blame Eve.” he laughed.
“Eve was framed.” I muttered.
“That's beyond my ability to fix” Dez laughed. “What I CAN do is make sure you're safe. And that means staying in your suite, hosting press who come to visit us within our secure hotel, and keeping a low profile until we jet out of here.”
“No problem.” I snorted. “Low profile is Katherine's middle name.”
Dez laughed, patted my knee, and left to mollify Eoin, Colleen, Cyril and the rest of the crew – none of whom had personal prices put on their heads.
I tried to take my 'grounding' with grace. I tried to think of myself not as a prisoner of my hotel – which seemed to be crawling with security people... I wasn't sure whether they were from our corporate parent, the local authorities or the hotel's management, none of whom I presumed, would want a violent tragedy associated with their brands. I tried to pretend we were 'ultra-VIPs', so important that the world came to us and we merely 'held court'. That was how I tried to frame this, to keep myself from going stir crazy. It wasn't terribly effective.
I found myself in the hotel's fitness center at four something in the morning. Unable to sleep and insatiably restless, I finally gave up the struggle and surrendered to the urge to take a run. I knew this wasn't another dream. First, I was fully clothed. Even if it was my skin tight running gear, it wasn't the least bit sexy, at least not to me.... so I knew it was no somnambulist fantasy. There was no sexy hunk, just a small cluster of sleepy security folks who grudgingly accompanied me to the fitness center.
Since we were the only ones there at that ungodly hour, no one protested when the security folks insisted on turning the lights down to barely-able to see levels.
Well, no one but me.
I knew my protest was futile, yet I felt compelled to make it for the record anyway.
Although the fitness center was on a high floor of the hotel, it had huge glass walls that gave breathtaking views of the city below. I did not think the zealots out to punish Katherine for her 'harlotry' were likely to do it with a sniper rifle, yet the security folks were taking no chances.
The irony of this 'dim all the lights' approach was that the LED display on the treadmill bathed me in illumination like a spotlight – made all the more noticeable in the otherwise near-dark room.
The nice thing about this ungodly hour of the morning was that I had the fitness center to myself. Well, just me and my unshakable security brigade. I knew it was their job to be awake and alert at this hour anyway, so I vowed to make the terrible shift more tolerable by chatting and joking with them while I tortured myself on the treadmill.
While I loved running in the open air, I always felt like a hamster on a wheel while running the moving belt on an exercise machine. Instead of watching TV like most treadmill fans, I chose to chat with my security detail. It was a very un-Katherine like thing to do, yet I justified it by figuring it was no less out of character than a 24/7 bodyguard squad to guard against the deluge of death threats.
I was really surprised when my security detail bolted away to accost a small group of people entering the gym. Who on earth would visit a fitness center at 4 in the morning? I mean who else would?...
After a flurry of tense inquisition, the visitors – well at least one of the small group, proved to the satisfaction of the bodyguards that they were indeed a valid guest and here to use the facilities. Jan, the head of the security detail still didn't seem too keen on being hospitable, but I interceded and the security folks backed down.
“Wow.” The dimly lit stranger grinned as he walked with me back to my hamster wheel. “I've seen heads of state who didn't have the security you do.”
I grimaced. “It all seems a bit over the top to me.”
As I once again began my run, the stranger laughed. “I'm surprised they aren't flanking the treadmill jogging in place like in a motorcade.”
“Don't give them any ideas!” I stage whispered with a grin. “I know they're supposed to be bodyguards, but they're really beginning to feel like just plain guards.... and I'm feeling a bit like a prisoner.”
He smiled politely. “Still it's no surprise. The usual loudmouths are talking trash and calling for their followers to wreak vengeance on you.”
OK. He recognized Katherine. I guess it would be hard not to. Our tour, and my face in particular, were all over the news, and on badly photocopied flyers with the price on my head.
“I've seen the movie. There's nothing offensive. ...religiously... offensive.” He looked at me nervously.
“So you're saying the death threats should have been from art critics?” I deadpanned.
He blanched, then blushed. I simply laughed.
“Would it help if I said it was all deliberate?” I grinned. He shook his head. I don't think he was buying it.
“If you say so.” He responded diplomatically.
I smiled and nodded. “Consider that the official story.”
He nodded with a smile. I think we were both on the same page, but we couldn't acknowledge it aloud.
“So what brings you to the fitness center at this ungodly hour?”
“Just got back. Finished playing a gig and I like to unwind before crashing.”
I shot him a raised eyebrow. “A gig?”
He laughed. “Yeah. I'm frontman for a group called satan's sideshow. We're kind of a mash-up of Marilyn Manson, Rob Zombie, Sleep Chamber, 9 Inch Nails... with a bit of macabre Alice Cooper burlesque thrown in. We bill ourselves as 'your parent's worst nightmare'. I do a very Marilyn inspired character named Shreckus Maximus.”
I smiled and nodded. “Nosferatu. I like it.”
“We do a kind of goth burlesque to industrial music. Lots of beheading, impaling, disembowling... very theatrical. Lots of acrobats, contortionists, interesting looking performers.... we really play up the old style side show aspect of it, with a very campy Svengalie horror movie vibe.” He laughed. “We even used to do a human centipede conga line number. Now we just end it with a musical parody of a black mass.”
“And I'm the one getting death threats?” I laughed. He smiled and nodded.
“Price of fame I guess. We're very niche. We're kind of the stand in for everyone who wishes the real Manson and Zombie and others would tour their cities and countries.... It's a living.” He smiled.
“So, Max?” I ventured.
“Brad actually. Brad Mitchell.” He extended a hand.
I smiled. “No offense but you really do look more like a Brad than a Max.”
“None taken.” he smiled. “Back when I was living in the states and trying to make it as a country singer, I never thought about a stage name.... but now... well, there was really no choice.”
“No. I suppose not.” I smiled. “Still how did you go from country singer to....”
“Marilyn Manson impersonator?” he smiled. “I was an aspiring country singer. Not getting anywhere. One Halloween I decided to go to a party someone I knew was throwing. There would be lots of music people there and lots of bands volunteering to play just to perform in front of some industry folks. I had already been typecast and dismissed by everyone in town, so some friends and I decided to mess with perceptions. I did the whole Marilyn Manson thing and my friends who were trying to get noticed as Alphonse Ballou's Bayou Boys got done up like extras from a George Romero movie and became my industrial back up band. We turned some heads that night!” he laughed. “Yeah, there were industry people there as I hoped, and we really sucker punched them. They had no idea how to react! We really pranked them. Afterward, I was approached by an agent who never would return my calls. He thought this idea had potential.... overseas. His exact words were 'big in Japan'.” He smiled. “My bandmates still wanted to try making it as a cajun blues band, but I thought 'it's a gig. It could be fun.' So we started working on what ended up as Satan's Sideshow revue.” He grinned.
“And I took a gig on a Dez Lehmann musical about a humble sheep herder and end up getting death threats. I must admit I envy you your freedom.” I sighed.
“Well, it helps that I don't remotely look like my stage persona” he smiled. “In your movie, you basically looked ….like you.”
“Yeah...” I nodded. “Gotta work on that....” I grinned.
“So...” Brad said, looking around at my security entourage, “You really are, in effect a prisoner in your own hotel?”
“Unless you can sneak me out as one of your sideshow troupe” I snarked.
He didn't laugh. Instead, he gave me a long hard stare for a good long time.
“That won't work. …..But maybe.... what's your room number?”
I told him. Knowing my security detail would not let him get near the front door.
“I have a germ of an idea” he grinned. “If there's anything to it, maybe we can get together and see the town.”
Reflexively I made a dismissive 'pfffft' sound.
We wrapped up our polite conversation and Brad went to the bench press to 'let off some steam'. A quick circuit of the leg press and rowing machine and he came over to bid me goodnight.
“I get so wound up onstage I would never sleep after a show. So instead of trolling for groupies or hunting down …chemical means.... I just work off the adrenaline at the nautilus and sleep like a baby.” He smiled.
I nodded. “Sounds like you have it licked. You should do a celebrity relaxation video. ….I mean a video for celebrities.... on how to relax without ending up in the tabloids, jail or rehab.” I laughed.
He laughed too. “That may be my next career, when being a 2-bit Marilyn Manson impersonator runs its course. …..More chance of becoming a fitness guru than a country star.” He flashed a laconic grin.
“The career chooses you” I nodded. “But only the lucky ones figure that out and are pragmatic enough to grab on tight.”
He gave me a long, appraising look. Finally nodding.
“Hmmph.... I never.... ….interesting point.” He went quiet, just gazing at me for a 'Keller long' time. Fortunately I was used to that by now and paid it no mind. He would speak when he had something to say. Finally he broke the silence, extending a hand, which I took and shook by the fingertips.
“A pleasure to meet you Ms Keller.” He smiled politely.
“Those who've seen me sweat get to call me Katherine.” I grinned.
He grinned back and nodded. “....Katherine.” He made a slight bow and backed away, still grinning.
“I'm serious about helping you escape. Now more than ever.” And with that he spun on his heels and strode out of the fitness center.
I shrugged it off and returned my attention to my running. If this treadmill was to be believed, I'd be halfway to Quezon if I were actually running in the real world.
I tried to tire myself out on the treadmill. Since my days were spent holding court with the visiting press and sitting still in a chair while various interviewers were shuffled in and out, I found myself struggling to deal with all the pent-up energy.
It didn't help that my cousin Mikey was constantly coming to me, sharing all the terrible violent things trolls were saying online about how they would deal with 'the whore of hollywood'. I tried to laugh it off.
“So I'm the whore of Hollywood? THE whore? Have these people MET Hollywood? Should I be flattered? Am I like Highlander? There can BE only one – and through extraordinary talent and determination, I'm it?”
Mikey laughed. “I think that should be your new branding statement. 'Putting the HO in Hollywood'”
I laughed politely. Under other circumstances I probably would have found it genuinely funny. If strangers all over the internet were not threatening to kill me in lurid, gruesome ways.
I wondered for a moment what Katherine's thoughts were about this. Probably relief that she was sheltered in sleepy Connecticut while I was drawing the ire and fire of the zealots and haters.
With all these thoughts, and nothing but time to sit around and let them stew, actual rest was becoming a problem. I had a passing thought that trying to stay out of harms way as Katherine was at least taking my mind off my inevitable meeting with my family when we wound down our tour with a swing through Australia. I still had no idea how I was going to break it to them. Or what I was going to do when the rest of the road company headed back to Hollywood and Mikey and I were left behind to return to our homes. I knew I was not going home. Even as L.C. I would have tried to come up with an alternative to moving back in with my mum and dad. Now there was absolutely no thought of that. But what I was going to do instead, I had yet to work out. I barked a bitter laugh at the thought that if one of the internet crazies did in fact succeed in slaying the Hollywood Harlot, at least I wouldn't have to worry about explaining to my folks. Then I wondered what Katherine would do, stuck in hiding in her safe house, as her public persona was quite publicly killed or even worse, maimed. Would she be stuck in hiding? Doomed to live out her days as a recluse? She might actually be fine with that. She seemed in no great hurry to regain her celebrity life. I had the sense she was more resigned to the fact that her respite was ending and my stint of 'doing her chores' would come to an end after the Asia tour.
Or sooner if the internet haters got their way.
So, with all these thoughts bouncing around in my head while I sat for unctuous celebrity press, is it any wonder I wasn't sleeping well? Maybe running myself ragged on the treadmill until dawn broke would help tire me out enough to sleep.
Apparently it worked, because Dennis had to wake me in his own passive-aggressive way. In this case, by waving a cupful of strong coffee under my nose like an ampule of ammonia to rouse someone who fainted.
“Come on lazy bones....” he cooed. “Say goodbye to dreamland and drag open those big green eyes.”
“Hnnnhh??” was the most I could muster.
“C'mon sweetie.” he gently purred. Then I felt wet droplets of ….something... tickle my face.
I finally forced my eyes open and struggled to focus on a mirthful Dennis, his mouth puckered with mock disapproval. “Time to wake up and smell the coffee.” He said flatly. “Or if you insist.... wear it.” and he flicked his fingers, again flecking my face with drops from the cup.
“Hey! I'm up. I'm up!” I insisted. Though I suspect I probably sounded barely conscious.
“Trust me babe, it's much better sipped. If you insist on wearing 'Rude Awakening by Juan Valdez' far be it from me to criticize your choices.” he grinned.
“Most people would just say 'Good Morning'” I grumbled.
“Alright then” Dennis grinned. “Let's compromise. Good AFTERNOON.”
“What time IS it?” I was still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“12:37”
“Couldn't you at least have let me sleep until 12:40?” I mock pouted, hoping to hide my surprise that everyone let me sleep so long.
“I've been trying to wake you since 12:30” Dennis grinned.
Finally my brain began to function and a jolt of adrenaline startled me awake. I sat bold upright causing Dennis to jump back, nearly splashing the rest of my morning macchiato on me.
“Ohmigod! Don't we.... didn't we.... have interviews?”
“Since 8:45.” he smiled. “Eoin, Colleen and Cyril handled them. The press was told you were conferring with security personnel over the whole death-threat thing.” he gestured dismissively. “Your being in too much danger to talk to the press will probably get you even more press.” he laughed.
“Thank you for that. And especially for letting me sleep.” I shot him a grateful smile.
Dennis waved it off. “Girl, you needed it. Glad you finally got some solid rest.”
I nodded. “So what's on for this afternoon? More interviews?”
Dennis shook his head. “No more interviews. There was a…. um...”
“What happened?” I reached out and placed a hand on his forearm.
He shook his head. “One of the TV crews with a reporter....” he seemed to be thinking how to say it. “I'm not sure of all the details, but according to Colleen, one of the sound guys was acting weird. Most of the reporters were annoyed that Katherine was unavailable, but this crew.... this guy... was really worked up about it. Someone tipped off security, then things got tense and weird. Rumour is they found some kind of weapon on him. Knife or something. Hearing different things. He was apparently a freelancer, the reporter and camera guy didn't know him, but he dropped the right names and said he was assigned to the gig so they didn't question it. The police are still sorting everything out. Now aren't you glad you slept in?”
“I probably could have taken him in a knife fight.” I scoffed. “Do you know how many times Mikey made me sit through West Side Story?”
Dennis laughed. “Singing and Dancing and shark wrestling have already done irreparable things to Katherine's reputation. I draw the line at knife duels.”
“Oh come on.” I protested with a grin. “Imagine the press if Katherine protected her cast and crew from a knife wielding assailant. I could put the 'shiv' in 'chivalry'!”
Dennis just rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was suppressing a smile. “Will you please shower and dress before the day is over already?”
I was enjoying a leisurely breakfast ….OK... I guess it was more a brunch, and feeling like a kid in quarantine while she got over the measles.
Yeah, that happened, and I never ever think about it, but suddenly being secluded in my hotel room reminded me of that. Even my mum seemed a little stand-off-ish, which kind of annoyed me as a kid, but which I fully understand now. That's being a parent. Standing by your sick child even when there's a fair chance that they could get you sick, and at your age it would be much worse. Unconditional love. It gave me pause and I kind of got clobbered by a wave of emotion thinking of the countless little things my mom did for me as a kid. Then the wave receded and I nearly got caught in the undertow when I thought of meeting up with her in a few weeks when we got to Brisbane.
I forced my mind elsewhere and realized why this felt like quarantine but worse, was that when I was sick I had been preoccupied by being sick ….and usually exhausted. But this time I was not sick. I was full of restless energy and just sitting around was making me stir crazy. Can you get cabin fever in an ultra posh hotel suite? I was beginning to think so.
The monotony was interrupted by one of the security people.
“Ms Keller. ….You have a visitor?”
Upon my raised eyebrow, she expounded.
“Another hotel guest. He says you met in the fitness center last night?”
The lightbulb went on in the thought bubble over my head as I smiled. “Actually I think it was this morning. Yes. Please, send him in.”
The security people flanked Brad as he was ushered into my suite. I flashed him a smile & motioned the security team to leave us. They did not seem enthusiastic about it, but our apparent familiarity seemed to lower their apprehension just enough to grudgingly leave us some privacy.
As soon as they left, Brad broke into a grin.
"Are you still serious about breaking out?" he whispered.
I nodded with a smile.
His grin grew wider. "I think I have a plan."
It was a preposterous plan. It bordered on 'zany'. As I listened to him explain it, eyes wide as he animatedly gesticulated, practically pantomiming the interplay of elements in his 'plan', I realized that animated was the perfect word to describe it. Chuck Jones could not have come up with a more unlikely plot for one of his classic Loony Toons. I remembered Mikey and his sister Meg dragging out the old boardgame Mousetrap on one of my visits as a kid. Something told me Brad played that game as a kid too... and loved it.
I caught myself cocking my head to one side like a skeptical bird, hardly believing what my own eyes were witnessing as Brad darted up, crouched down, traced objects in the air with his hands and generally mimed his way through the whole 'escape scenario'.
He finally finished his 'explanation' and plopped back into his seat with a stupid grin and an expectant stare.
“Well?” he beamed.
I could only stare at him in disbelief. Eyes unblinking while I replayed his whole outrageous 'plan' in my head. 'Keller-long' didn't begin to describe the pause. His hopeful grin never wavered.
“....So?...” he prodded, grin still plastered.
I finally blinked. After trying to digest the whole complicated scheme, I caught myself in a reflexive little head shake ….maybe 'rattle' is a better word... trying to loosen all the moving parts of the plan and toss them out of my brain. Who on earth would come up with a plan this complicated and inherently ridiculous. ….other than ME that is.... apparently the grinning idiot sitting across from me.
“I'm in.” I whispered with a smirk.
It took a while to coordinate, but it seemed I had nothing but time, now that even press interviews were off the table. I was able to talk Dez & company to let me do some video interviews via Skype, but even then my image in the screen was framed by the blacksuited torsos of two very imposing looking guards, dramatically reinforcing my suffocating 'security quarantine'. It took me a while to talk Lisa and Scott... the two security folks who most forcefully resembled central casting's idea of 'intimidating muscle' to flank me in the video, posed 'at ease' – but not too much at ease, each with their hands folded one over the other over their black jackets at their beltline like two assassins patiently awaiting their orders. I assured them that their faces would not be onscreen with me, just their ominous torsos and legs down to about mid thigh. I think I finally communicated what I was going for when they finally turned to each other with a slight smirk, nodded their approval to the other and turned to me with mischievous grins.
So, my 'house arrest' was reinforced by my Skype interviews far more dramatically than any of the in-person interviews ever were. I made a few more rounds of local and international interviews, expressing to interviewers on future stops on our junket the hope that I would be able to make my visits to their lands substantially more … 'free range'.
As for my 'great escape', I knew I'd need an ally on the inside. I knew instantly that my cousin Mikey was my only hope.
He didn't need much convincing, and as I'd surmised... he was more thrilled by the 'zany adventure' part of the scheme than the real and serious danger of the scheme. That is why I insisted that he not let anything slip to Dennis. I was certain he would keep me in my cage to keep me safe even if it meant me bouncing off the walls of my prison until we finally left the Philippines.
Dennis didn't have to wake me the next morning. I was up before even he was. I said good morning to my current pair of round-the-clock guards. I told them I was ordering breakfast from room service and asked them if they wanted anything. They were surprised at my offer but politely declined. I suspect they were looking forward to a real breakfast when their shifts ended in a few hours.
When the room service trolley arrived, it got the usual near-teardown my thorough security crew gave everything entering my suite. I kidded Rick & Pam – my current guards - that they were free to pick at my tofu bacon or vegan omelet to make sure no one was trying to poison me. They diplomatically demurred. I could tell by their expressions that they felt vegan anything was already too close to poison for their tastes. I suppressed my grin and hauled the now-cleared trolley into my suite.
A few hours later, when room service came to retrieve the trolley, Phil & Dawn, my next shift guards ventured into the suite to see if I was done with the breakfast cart. My cousin Mikey confirmed that the cart could go back.... as did the picked clean plates littering the top tray. He went into my room and wheeled it out to them... explaining to the security detail that I was currently in-dispose, but that the tray was good to go. No one questioned this.
Since my security detail was focused on preventing threats from getting IN and not remotely concerned with refuse leaving my suite, there was no inspection of the outgoing trolley. Or the escapee painfully folded into the covered area beneath the trolley.
The 'porter' fetching the trolley delivered it to Brad's room. As planned. He whipped up the linen covering the lower compartment and I spilled out, blissfully unfolding myself like a piece of masochistic origami.
“Welcome to the free world.” He grinned.
OK. Phase one worked. But I was still trapped in the hotel.
“Don't gloat yet.” I grinned. “We still have to get outside.”
“Piece of cake.” he grinned as he handed me the garment.
“I have my doubts about this.” I confessed as I unfolded the garment. “I'm a bit ….oddly proportioned.”
He grinned. “No problem. You just crouch down and fold up your arms so that the sleeves only go to your elbows. Keep your arms crossed and no one will notice the hands ….or no hands.”
“You really think this will work?” I crooked an eyebrow.
Brad shrugged. “One way to find out.” A slow grin crept across his face.
I rolled my eyes. “This is insane.”
“Like wrestling a shark?” he grinned.
“Not much choice there.” I spat.
“True. Here, it's your call. So, go back to your 'house arrest'?”
I sighed and pulled the garment on over my head.
The hotel had a vast international clientele, so very little raised an eyebrow in the lobby. Certainly not the family bustling out to 'see the sights'.
Brad – in traditional middle eastern garb, flanked by his 'children' and one of his wives, was utterly ignored by everyone in the lobby – including whatever covert security personnel were stationed to guard against threats to the Thornbirds cast.
Despite the knee-guards, I found walking with my shins bound to my thighs incredibly uncomfortable and was relieved once in the cab to unfold my legs and arms and get back to my normal abnormal proportions.
Brad grinned “See? I told you it would work.”
I shot him a glare “Only because no one expected anyone to try something so obviously stupid.”
His smile didn't waver. “Take all the potshots you want. It worked.”
I glowered. “So far.”
Meanwhile, back at the hotel, security finally twigged that their charge had escaped protective custody. Mikey acted as startled as anyone that I had 'busted out', though I'm not sure anyone entirely believed him. They grilled him mercilessly but he kept to the cover story, and even if they weren't convinced, they resigned themselves to the conclusion that grilling him was a waste of time.
Meanwhile, off-duty security crew were all called in and, as discreetly as possible, spread throughout the hotel to hunt for the missing subject.
So, when the towering figure in the burka wandered into the lobby and made a beeline for the revolving doors, it immediately drew all sorts of attention. First, while women in burkas were not uncommon in the hotel lobby, they never traveled alone. Usually they were in groups, and almost always accompanied by at least one male chaperon. The solo subject would have drawn attention even if they didn't tower over the crowd at well over six feet tall.
There was an instant flurry of radio chatter and a number of security teams converged on the lobby before the subject had halfway traversed it.
Noticing the sudden appearance of teams in identical nondescript suits emerging from every hall feeding into the lobby, the burka clad figure stopped, turned right and left and surveyed the lobby, then a heartbeat later, sprinted for the exit door.
The scrambling security forces struggled to speed across the crowded lobby, swerving around startled guests, vendors and visitors as they tried to intercept the subject at the door. Meanwhile, the subject in the burka was bolting for the exit as crowds parted to avoid colliding with this accelerating apparition.
Avoiding the revolving doors at the last minute, the figure darted to a fire door with a push-bar and exploded onto the walkway in front of the hotel. The pursuing security folks were still struggling to scramble through the exit doors and the figure in the burka extended their distance.
Until a black Mercedes skidded off the circular driveway cutting off the walkway and a team of black suited security folks spilled out to tackle the suspect.
Surprise doesn't describe their reaction, when to their utter stupefaction, the tackled 'suspect' ….buckled.... seemingly splitting in half as two Malaysian acrobats darted out from under the fluttering burka and bolted in opposite directions.
It was a stunning sight to watch the chaos as Brad and I crossed the lobby, he in his thobe and kuffiyeh and me under my burka, shins lashed to my thighs, awkwardly walking on my padded knees, our 'children' in tow. Actually, they were other diminutive members of the Malaysian acrobat troupe from Brad's macabre cabaret act who agreed to help us in our zany plan. With all the confusion in the lobby, no one noticed the nondescript family making their way to the taxi stand outside the hotel.
Once in the cab and on our way into town, the 'kids' helped unbind my legs and I unfolded as discreetly as I could, trying to avoid the attention of our driver. It was a great relief to be free to stretch my legs again, ditching the knee pads and pulling my trainers from my bag.
I don't think the driver paid us any mind while we headed to the market district Brad specified.
If he didn't notice anything in the cab, it was near-impossible not to notice when I emerged from our cab, having rolled down the excess fabric in the burka to cover me down to my trainers. There are very few 6'7” figures in Burkas wandering around Manila. And though I tried mightily to crouch, I still towered over most of the men and all of the women.
Still, I hoped we would manage to get some sight-seeing and a little souvenir shopping in before we drew too much attention.
Turns out we didn't even get a full hour.
While it was clear from the start that we stood out like a pimple on a prom queen, people seemed startled and unsure how to react to us, so we just went about our business surrounded by the bewildered crowd.
I bought a few quirky souvenirs that I thought Dennis, Mikey and Matt might enjoy. I also discreetly 'stole' one of the bounty flyers from a streetpole we passed while browsing the pushcarts, stalls and storefronts of the merchant district. As we continued to rummage around, I noticed the tenor of the crowd slowly change from confusion to quiet whispering and what seemed escalating malevolent attention.
We were wandering through a bazaar in Salcedo when I noticed the previously random crowd seeming to take on a singular demeanour. My old intuition when bullies were gathering and danger was imminent was blaring like a klaxon in my subconscious.
I spotted a boutique storefront and said to 'Tariq' (Brad) with a raised finger “Just one moment. ….come children....” and stepped inside.
Where I quickly tore through racks, the sense of impending dread growing ever stronger, I randomly grabbed an item off the rack and raced for the dressing room, children in tow.
The crowd was gathering in front of the store. There was an agitated murmur as various people kept pointing through the glass. The alarmed shopkeeper noticed the commotion and stepped outside to confront the growing crowd.
Even Brad noticed the alarming mood of the gathering mob. He pushed his way into the store and yelled “Ka.... wife... are you in here?”
“One moment!” I yelled from the dressing stall.
Brad turned just as I shouted “we're outed! Run!!!” And the drape of the dressing stall was ripped aside as the looming figure in the burka darted from it.
Brad startled for only a moment before using himself as a human shield to defend the fleeing figure, hurling himself into the startled mob and tackling everyone in his path. Quickly the sheer number of agitated locals swarmed around him, totally ignoring the impotent defender and making chase for the frantically fleeing figure in the burka. It took them no time to catch up and their surprise when the subject ...buckled... and split into two 'children' (actually diminutive Malaysian acrobats) who fled in opposite directions …. neither followed by the bewildered mob.... as the actual subject of their ire made her way out the service door to the alley behind the boutique.... curiously invigorated by the rush of once again outwitting a pack of bullies... and dashed off as fast as her freakishly long legs would carry her, clad in only her under-burka running gear and trainers.... with absolutely NO idea where she was or where she was headed.
If I had been thinking more clearly, I would have taken a moment and brought up a GPS map of my surroundings so I had at least some idea of where I was going, but the only thing on my mind was “RUN!!!”.
Sigh.... old habits die hard.
I found a fire exit and bolted into the alley behind the store. Fortunately, none of the mob had the notion to stake out the alley behind the store, and by now the surly mob was busy chasing the decoy. I chose a direction at random and poured on the speed. My only thought was putting as much distance as possible between myself and the mob. I ran through streets and neighborhoods, leaving the commercial bazaar district far behind and finally noticed myself running through neighborhoods dense with everyday people.... obviously residential districts... tenements teeming with people going about their lives.... and I quickly realized areas where people did NOT go for runs.... certainly not westerners.... definitely not female westerners..... add to that the fact that I absolutely towered over everyone in these neighborhoods and I was as 'under-the-radar' as a runaway unicorn!
I had ditched my original hostile mob but soon found myself attracting an extraordinary amount of attention simply by how out-of-place I was, running through these densely packed city blocks.
“Out of the frying pan....” the sardonic voice in my head said as I kept running as fast as I could and searched frantically for a new plan.
When I rounded the corner, I instantly saw my answer and thanked my lucky stars. I tore full speed for the front door, hoping it wasn't locked.
When I was growing up, it seemed churches never locked their doors. Recently, it seemed the world had changed and that was no longer a given. Fortunately my moment of dread at the prospect of locked doors was quickly dispelled. I darted inside and instantly realized my demeanour was far too agitated for this serene place. I struggled to quickly damp it down and made my way reverently into the cavernous cathederal. I reflexively dipped my fingers into the holy water and blessed myself, instantly flashing back to being 9 years old attending church with my sunday school class in preparation for our first holy communion. The memory of my crisp white suit was quickly preempted by the sound of my trainers squeaking on the worn, highly polished floor. I wrestled down the conflicting emotions and brought myself back to the here and now. Churches were sanctuaries.... refuges for those seeking safety from the violence and injustice of the secular world.
I knew it was just a matter of time before the crowd following the curious speedy stranger found their way to the church. I could try to argue 'sanctuary' to the mob, but I would much rather enlist the aid of a ….higher authority.....
When I saw the light on the confessional, I understood the unlocked doors on the seemingly deserted church. It was quiet and desolate. I imagined the priest in the booth browsing his kindle.... or maybe catching a nap.
I quietly made my way into the confessional. I tried to do the math on just how long it had been since I made a confession. I chuckled bitterly at the thought that I stopped at about the time I actually began having things to confess.
I heard the partition slide in the near darkness of the confessional and strained to make out the vague silhouette of the priest.
How to play this? I instantly decided to double-down on Katherine-mode.
“....Hi.....” I whispered, instantly confusing the priest behind the screen by instantly veering from the proscribed script. “....I have a confession.....”
He regrouped. “Uh. Yeah. Yes. This is why you're here...” and he began blessing me with the sign of the cross.
“....first.... I have to confess that I'm uh.... not Catholic....” I declared, resolutely in 'Katherine-mode'.
So much for regrouping. Even though I couldn't see it through the screen, I could feel his stare.
“.....I'm uh..... hiding..... I think I'm being chased by a mob and when I saw the church I immediately thought 'sanctuary'....” I said with a nervous laugh.
“What would make you think you're being chased by a....” he stopped abruptly at the loud bang of the front doors being violently wrenched open and the muttering mumble of a large group of people.
“....get off your knees.” He whispered, startling me. I don't know if he could see me or just imagined my bewildered expression. “When you kneel on the pad it triggers an outside light indicating the booth is occupied. Squat.” he whispered.
I mentally slapped myself. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that.
“I think I have a price on my head....” I whispered. “It's complicated.....”
“Sit still..... squat still.” I could hear the grin in his voice. I heard him get up and leave the confessional.
“Hello? …..may I help you?” I heard him call out to the obviously still distant crowd.
“We are looking for a woman. A very tall woman.... in very tight fitting clothing.... someone said she came in here....”
“Even if she did come in here ….and look around.... there is no one here but me... and God... this is a house of God..... take your hunt outside and do not desecrate the sanctity of this sacred place.”
“Don't tell us what to do priest.... this is not our holy place...”
“This is God's house! And there IS no Got but God!!!!!” he exploded. I nearly soiled myself at the surprising ….fury... of his outburst. There was a lonnnng silence..... “Leave this sacred place NOW before I tell your imam about the mob that descended to desecrate a house of God!” he thundered.
All I could hear was the faint shuffling of scores of feet. Eventually the curtain of the confessional drew back and I saw the sillhouette of a short, rotund priest.
“They're gone. You can come out now Ms Keller.” he smiled. He obviously caught my startle, his body began to shake as he chuckled. “It doesn't take a Sherlock Holmes to figure out who would be fleeing that angry mob.”
“Oh.” I blushed. “I didn't expect you to know.....”
“I read newspapers.... and watch TV.... and go to the movies....” he grinned. “....but don't tell my archbishop about that last part. It's not just the ultra-conservative imams who are offended and incensed.”
I nodded guiltily. “.....it was just a part.... it was never my intention to offend....”
“....and yet you did that dance number with the sheep....” he smiled wickedly. “Well, I believe in a forgiving God..... so it's not my place to judge.” he grinned. He was enjoying needling me and I couldn't really blame him.
“I think you're safe for the moment. But I suspect that crowd will just hang outside for a good long while to see if I was indeed harboring you and waiting for you to leave.”
“Oh, crap.” I muttered, then threw my hands to my mouth in mortification as I felt my face burn.
The priest broke into a grin. “Understandable. And forgivable. But please watch your language in this house of God.”
I nodded contritely.
“We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Father Paul Provenzano. Pastor of Saint Lucia's.” He extended a hand.
“Kath... “ I began to say and blushed “...well, you already figured that out Father Sherlock.” I smiled.
He laughed. “I like that. ….although I think my archbishop would disapprove.” he clucked gleefully. “So what brings you to this corner of our happy island? I thought from all the TV coverage you were sealed in a security bubble?”
I grinned. “You're not that far off.... The major difference between a panic room and a prison cell is which side of the door the key is on. At some point I noticed it was NOT on mine, so I made plans to ….sneak off.... and see the sights.”
“...and how did that go for you?” he grinned with a gleam.
I shrugged. “Not bad at first.... but at some point I think people twigged.”
Father Paul snorted. “Apparently you are the only person who had any notion that you could wander around incognito!” he chortled. “But still... what brings you here.... you're pretty far from the tourist traps....”
I shrugged. “When I thought I had been found out, I set out a diversion and snuck off in the opposite direction as fast as I could.... and I can be pretty fast when properly motivated.” I smirked ….hopefully with humility.
“Well, you are truly deep in the middle of nowhere now.... What's your plan?”
I shrugged. “Didn't think it that far ahead. Just wanted to avoid the mob.”
Father Paul laughed. “Honestly, I have NO idea what they would do if they actually caught you.... and I suspect they don't either. I think they're more like those dogs who chase cars, never imagining what they would do if they actually caught one!”
I smiled politely. “Perhaps.... Still, I'd rather not find out.”
He nodded with a lingering smile. “So. How do you plan to get back to your hotel?”
“I uh.... I hadn't given it much.... any.... thought....” I began to deflate as I heard my own words.
He smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “Don't worry. We'll sort this out.”
Just then we heard the door again and more murmuring of a large group of people. Father Paul scowled, nodded his head in a direction toward the front of the church “Go down there... there's a small hall to the right just before the altar. Wait for me there.” I did as instructed, glad that my dark running garb made me nearly ninja invisible as I crept along the wall in the dimly lit church.
“Yes? May I help you?”
“Oh, hi padre.... I mean no... you can't... there's no need for you....”
“We're just here to ….pray.” another voice said.
“Anyone for confession?” Father Paul asked. There was a general murmuring and I presume a collective shrug. “Very well. Perhaps later..... I'm headed back to the rectory and will leave you to ….prey.... in peace.”
There was a ragtag muttering of thank yous as the group ….scattered... throughout the church, settling in widely spread out pews, trying to discretely survey the cavernous space for anyone trying to hide in their midst.
When Father Paul rounded the corner to the hall he quickly scooped me up and quietly made his way to the end of the hall, where there was a narrow doorway with a steep spiral staircase. He went first and motioned me to follow. We rose up about a floor and came to a steel cage door with a rather serious looking lock and an even more stern “No Entry” sign. He fumbled for keys and quickly opened it, slowing when it started to squeak and gently opening it the rest of the way, he motioned for me to squeeze by him and re-locked the gated door from behind us. He motioned for me to continue up the stairs. We quickly came upon a small room filled with humming equipment racks and thick cables heading both up and down the walls. I paused at the sight but Father Paul quickly hurried me back up the stairs until we came to another small chamber with alarmingly large horn speakers and screened openings allowing us a 360 degree view of the neighborhood below.
Seeing my bewildered expression, he laughed and whispered. “This used to be the bell tower, but a dozen or so years ago we replaced the old bells with a more ….modern... solution. No worry about the bellman oversleeping or calling in sick.... it's all very high tech.”
“I can see. That's an impressive equipment room” I said quietly nodding down the floor beneath us.
He laughed. “Oh, no. That's what we did with all the freed up space. Mobile phone carriers pay us a tidy sum for this lofty location.” and he pointed to the cables snaking up the wall end through the ceiling above our heads. “So if there's someone you can call, reception should not be a problem.” he grinned.
I peered out through the screen and observed the large, antsy crowd milling about in the streets surrounding the church.
“I think I can get a rescue with little problem, but getting to them may prove tricky.”
Father Paul furrowed his brow. “Let me pray on that problem.... meanwhile, you have someone you can call?”
I nodded and fished the phone out of the pocket on the sleeve of my running jersey.
Dez was not amused and I could tell from the commotion when his conversation was clearly with me that he was in the room with Dennis, Mikey and God knows how many security people.
“Look. Yell at me later. Ground me if you must....” I stifled a smirk “I promise it will work next time... but right now, I just wanted to tell you I'm fine. I'm kind of hiding... and I could sure use a rescue. Could you send a car?”
Dez quickly made arrangements, I shared the GPS location from my phone and was assured that a security detail would be there to rescue me in 15 or 20 minutes. I assured Dez that I was well hidden and would be safe until then. He said he'd call when the car arrived and I told him that I would see it when it got here, since my hiding place had an unobstructed view of the whole area.
I'm not sure if he pieced together just where I was hiding, since my GPS would have clearly indicated the area of the church, and if he used satellite view he couldn't miss the towering steeple.
I reported on my phone call to Father Paul, who still seemed lost in thought …. or maybe it was prayer.
“They'll be here in 15 minutes or so.... any ideas yet on how to get from here to there and through that throng?” I scowled down at the milling mob ...which only seemed to be growing.
He shook his head, then flashed me a beatific smile. “Not yet. …..but have faith.” he grinned and headed back to the stairs. “Wait here. I've given that crowd enough time to poke around everywhere they can think of.... hopefully if any are still here it shouldn't be difficult to persuade them to go back to their homes and families.” He smiled.
“So these are yours?” I smiled. He nodded ruefully. “My Archbishop was none too pleased with your movie either, and while mildly disparaging the price put on your head, he made it clear how people could be offended and offered little defense of the film ….or its stars. ...So while I may be disappointed, I'm not entirely surprised to see my own flock joining in the....”
“Hunt for the harlot?” I snorted bitterly.
He blushed a shy smile. “Not how I would have phrased it... but...” he shrugged with a grin, then quickly regained his composure. “Anyway. They've had ample time to snoop around. Hopefully when I send them home they'll pass the word that you are clearly not here. With any luck that should help disperse the crowd.” And with that, he spun down the stairs.
And I had nothing to do but stare out the window and distract myself with my phone. It didn't take me too long to realize what a wonderful opportunity I had to grab a few selfies with an absolutely spectacular view.
No sooner had I started taking photos of the staggering view than we lost the light. I darted my eyes skyward and thought “OK. I get the message. No selfies.” then grinned at the thought of what I was doing, quickly giving a mental shrug and thinking, 'well, I am in a church.... what better place to have a conversation like this?' So, I did something I hadn't unironically done since I was about twelve. I bowed my head and ….I guess most folks would consider it praying.
I thought with gratitude about my life.... about the series of improbable circumstances that brought me here.... hiding out in a bell-tower... well, a former bell tower that was now a cleverly camouflaged cellphone tower, staring down at an angry mob milling around eager for someone to stone. I thought to myself how I'd made it out of all sorts of improbable fixes, never with a thought beforehand how it would work out, yet it always did. I took a deep breath and tried to reassure myself that all I needed was to ….keep faith.... that it would work out, and when my opportunity came, I would once again recognize and seize it. That thought surprisingly gave me great comfort, and I felt a sense of calm settle even as the skies outside became more dark and menacing.
Father Paul returned up the stairs. “They're gone. There were just a few stubborn stragglers remaining. I scolded them and sent them home.” he smiled. "Any sign of your ride?"
“Not yet.” I grimaced. “I'm sure I'll recognize it when I see it. I'm presuming a large black SUV or such.... these security folks have no imagination.” I forced a breezy grin.
Father Paul nodded and smiled politely. “Well, it's safe to go downstairs now.”
I smiled. “If you don't mind, I'd rather keep a lookout here. I'm hoping to find a hole in the crowd I can thread like a needle when my rescue finally does come.”
“It's getting really dark....” he fretted “...this time of year squalls can come and go out of nowhere... and they can be really....”
He was interrupted by the deafening sound of a sudden hard and violent rain. I looked through the screen and saw the crowd below darting for cover as a torrent of angry rain painfully pelted them. I noticed a pair of headlights as the black SUV, wipers batting furiously and futilely against the violent rain.
“I think my rides here!” I shouted, beaming. I watched it turn onto the road that led to the front of the church where people were still scattering in the street trying to find shelter from the heavy rain.
“Just in time!” He shouted grabbing my elbow... “We really don't want to be...”
I was blinded by the flash and felt like I had been kicked by a horse from the violence and power of the noise. I struggled to regain any of my senses, but they just would not come online. The first thing I regained was my sense of smell.... and I smelled something strong and acrid. Did one of those crazies bomb the church? I kept trying to blink my eyes back to working order. That was a hundred times brighter than any flash I'd ever experienced. Then I noticed the silence. Much as I strained, I couldn't hear a thing. I began to think I could hear the blood coursing through my veins and my rapid heartbeat, but that was it. The repeated tug at my elbow brought me back to earth. Though I could still barely see, I knew Father Paul was still trying to drag me to the staircase. Using the rail for guidance, I fumbled my way down behind him, still feeling quite dazed and ….numb? I don't know just what I was feeling, I just knew it was very, very odd.
By the time we got to the base of the stairs I was beginning to regain my vision. The odor was still strong in my nose. I saw Father Paul grinning as he pulled me through the hallway into the main church. Though my ears were still ringing I could hear him shout in my ear “THAT'S why you do not want to be in a steeple in a thunderstorm!”
“Jesus!” I reflexively exclaimed. Father Paul just grinned. “Maybe.... I'm sure that got rid of the crowd.”
“We could have been killed!” I startled. Father Paul just shook his head with a grin.
“We have the best lightning arrestors anywhere. The phone companies would not let anything happen to their valuable equipment!”
“But that smell!”
“Ozone. Yeah, we were inches from the strike, but it went right by us, down the much more attractive lightning ground.”
He grinned. “The people in the street were in far more danger than we were, just inches from first-rate lightning arrestors.” He hurried me to the door as my senses slowly returned to normal. He cracked the door and peered out to the SUV sitting alone on the rain drenched street. “You should have no trouble threading the needle now.” he smiled. He gave my arm a squeeze. “Go with God Ms Keller.” he smiled.
I think I surprised myself as much as him when I gave Father Paul a tight hug. “Thank you!” I whispered in his ear.
He returned the hug then quickly broke it and gently pushed me to the door. “Thank my boss.” he grinned eyes skyward.
“The cellphone company?” I cocked my head with a grin.
“Get out of here you heathen....” he grinned and gave me a gentle shove to the door.
I darted through the painfully hard rain and quickly made my way to the waiting SUV, eager to be heading back to the safety of my hotel, regardless of what chastisement awaited.