“You called earlier,” stated the dorm superintendent, appearing from behind a column beside the desk. His voice trembled like someone who had seen something so horrific that shock made it difficult to speak. “You wanted me to check her room.”
Ethan shook his head. “Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed. “Where could she be?” At odds with himself, he didn’t know what to do. His mind was in a quandary. Why couldn’t he remember what had happened? He saw the stage with Mila on it.
On seeing Ethan’s distress, the dorm super directed Ethan to a chair in his office. The officer followed, carrying his open notepad.
“Son,” the officer said in a low, controlled voice, “why the makeup?”
Ethan looked back at the cop and realized he was still in character. He ran his sleeve across his lips. “It’s not what it looks like, sir,” he replied to the officer.
“Why do you say that?” spoke the officer, staring at him. “What’s not what it looks like?”
Ethan thought for a moment before continuing. Had the dorm super said something about seeing him around earlier? “My girlfriend is not in her room,” Ethan said, keeping the tone of his voice level and controlled.
“Is that unusual?”
“Normally, no,” he answered. He had to be careful with what he said. He was being observed. Something had happened to Mila, but he couldn’t remember what. “But tonight, yes.”
“I’m listening,” said the officer in a no-nonsense tone. Ethan imagined the officer’s patience had more than run its course over the years when dealing with the shenanigans of spoiled university shits, wasting his time and Mommy and Daddy’s money.
“I’m part of the university’s theater group,” Ethan began, passing his hand through his spray-stiffened hair. “We opened our show tonight. My girlfriend, Mila, is the lead. She didn’t show.”
There was little else to add.
“And no one has seen or heard from her tonight?” the officer asked, seemingly more interested in what Ethan had to say.
“Not as far as I know.”
The officer jotted something in the notepad. He looked backed at Ethan without expression. “Your girlfriend’s name is Mila?”
“Yes, Mila Monahan,” Ethan replied. An image of Mila lying at the side of some road, crying his name as the lifeblood drained from her slashed throat, floated to the surface. He knew it wasn’t real, but he couldn’t help himself. The thought carried his emotions over the edge. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Sir, I don’t know what’s happened to her. I fear the worst.” He paused and then added. “She’s a free spirit, for sure, but her dream was acting. She wouldn’t have missed tonight for the world.”
“It’s gonna be okay, kid,” the officer said with a tight-lipped smile. “We’ll find her. These things have a way of working themselves out. It’ll be okay.”
The officer’s words did nothing to calm Ethan’s nerves or the churning that gnawed at his stomach.
“God, I hope so,” Ethan stated, lost and all but powerless to control where he was headed. “She means the world to me, sir.”
“I’m sure she does, son.”
The officer removed his cap—that lessened his dominant appearance—and asked Ethan when he’d last seen Mila.
“Just after lunch,” Ethan replied; it was all he could remember. “She was on her way to class.” He provided a brief description of what she was wearing.
“Do you have a picture?” the officer asked, closing his notepad.
“No, I don’t,” Ethan answered, cursing himself that he hadn’t pushed harder to get the photo he’d asked her for.
The officer left, saying he’d keep Ethan posted on their search. He left Ethan with a contact card and said, “If anything comes to mind, give me a call.”
With little else to say, Ethan left and headed back to his room. He couldn’t sleep. Robbie wasn’t in the room; somehow, Ethan knew he wouldn’t be. Things were mixed up, like he’d woken from a deep sleep and his brain was fuzzy. Despite the cold, he decided to walk around campus. Around 3 a.m., he returned to his room. Robbie was there and asleep.
Ethan woke him up. “Hey, man.”
Robbie grumbled, “Go to sleep.”
“I can’t,” Ethan said, moving to Robbie’s bed. “Mila’s gone.”
“What? What do you mean? She’s probably at a party. Go to bed, man.”
Ethan shook his head as he pulled off his coat. He turned on his bedside lamp. “No, Robbie, she never showed up tonight. It was opening night.”
“What?” Robbie cried, knocking off his blankets and sitting up.
“She never showed for the performance. She’s gone. MIA. Something’s happened to her. I just can’t believe she’d miss opening night.”
“You haven’t heard anything?” Robbie asked.
“Nothing. No one has.”
Stripping down to his underwear, Ethan lay down on his unmade bed and stared up at the ceiling. Each time he shut his eyes, he heard Mila crying out his name.
Shortly after 6 a.m., their room phone rang. Ethan jumped across the room, believing it would be Mila’s voice at the other end. Instead, it was Alexander.
“She’s vanished, Alex,” he said. “I’ve not heard anything. The police are looking for her.”
Alexander said little, expressing the same concerns running through Ethan’s head: something tragic had happened.
Robbie was standing behind Ethan when he hung up the phone.
“I’m supposed to give this to you,” Robbie said, frowning, passing a folded piece of paper to Ethan.
Ethan took the proffered page and opened it.
The writing seemed unmistakable, although something didn’t look quite right to Ethan’s eye. Mila’s name was written at the bottom, with a small star dotting the i. Mila usually dotted the i with a heart. The note read:
Ethan,
I couldn’t wait anymore. You’re right. I need to go where the action is to make it. I’m just playing here. I have to make it real. I’m going to New York.
Good-bye, my love.
Mila
After reading the note, Ethan nodded his head. It was hard to fight his disappointment, but his hope was renewed that she was alive. A good feeling crept in, but still he knew something wasn’t right … didn’t he?
It didn’t make sense. The note made it sound like going to New York was the only way to get what she wanted, but he couldn’t believe she would do it. She’d not spoken of it or even hinted. He wasn’t about to believe she really felt that way. Not a chance. But whether he liked it or not, it didn’t change the fact that he had a note in his hand.
“Thanks, Robbie,” he said. “I see it, but I don’t believe it.” He didn’t know what else to say.
It was eight o’clock in the morning.
Chapter 5
Real Time
December 1983
The officer Ethan had spoken with the night before called him back to the superintendent’s office in Mila’s dorm.
Ethan left their room in a hurry. His head was spinning. Robbie dressed and came with him. There were four police cruisers in the dorm’s visitor parking lot when they arrived; double the attention from his last visit. It couldn’t be good.
“Dude, it’ll be okay,” Robbie said as he pulled open the dorm’s entrance door.
“I don’t know,” Ethan replied. None of it seemed real.
The dorm super was waiting, standing beside the table outside his office.
“I need to ask you a few more questions,” the officer said, coming out from behind the column by the front desk. “Alone.”
Ethan nudged Robbie with his elbow and walked in the dorm super’s office.
The officer closed the door and pointed to a chair for Ethan to sit down. “This is a real tragedy son,” the officer began. “I’m so sorry.
I understand the girl was your friend.”
Ethan nodded, confused by the officer’s words of “tragedy” and “so sorry,” especially after the note Robbie had shown him earlier.
“I don’t understand,” Ethan said haltingly, looking into the officer’s face.
“It defies understanding,” the officer replied, “but we’ll find who’s responsible.”
Ethan shifted in the wood chair. Who’s responsible? he thought, It isn’t Mila? New York is her dream.
The officer’s gaze had dropped to the floor and then shot back at Ethan. “New York?” the officer stammered in surprise. “What do you mean?”
Ethan hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud. “She’s in New York,” Ethan replied matter-of-factly.
“No,” the officer replied, again seeming to adjust his words as he spoke. It discomfited Ethan. He added, “Why do you say that?”
“Because of the note.” Ethan’s voice faded as his thoughts began to collide.
“What note?” the officer asked, shifting his feet.
Silence followed as Ethan tried to put together how Mila could possibly be in New York without his knowing or why she would have left on opening night of Another Color Blue. But there was something else that didn’t make it seem real. “My friend showed me …” Ethan heard himself say and then stopped.
“Your friend who’s outside?”
“How would I know?” Ethan shot back, his voice sounding guilty.
“Because you said it,” the officer replied.
Ethan could feel the intensity of the officer’s eyes trying to read his mind. Ethan couldn’t concentrate. “I don’t know anymore. It was something I said to her once.”
The officer bit his lower lip. “Are you sure, kid?”
Ethan wanted to say yes but couldn’t. Things weren’t fitting together in his head. God, he missed her. After a prolonged silence Ethan spoke. “Can I go?”
“Yes, Ethan,” the officer replied, his tone again friendly. “Of course.”
In the days that followed, Ethan could not bring himself to believe that Mila had left for New York. It didn’t make any sense to him. For every question he posed to himself, he had an answer. Her clothes still hung in her closet. Would she leave without packing? And why a note? If she really left to chase her dream, she would have told him. And why would she leave before her big debut on the stage?
Ethan wasn’t satisfied. He wasted little time in checking out the ticket sellers at the bus station. He even went so far as to take a trip out to the airport to ask around, all to no avail. No one recognized a female of Mila’s description who’d bought a ticket to New York. Ethan knew it didn’t end there. Someone could have driven her, but that would be nearly impossible to uncover.
“This isn’t right!” Ethan uttered aloud, alone in the room he shared with Robbie. “I know it’s not right.”
The image of a bare bulb in a light socket, just like the light in Mila’s bathroom, kept returning to his thoughts.
And blood. Blood. Blood always seemed close now, but whenever he tried to see more, the images dissolved.
Chapter 6
Real Time
December 1983
To Ethan, the feelings expressed on campus for Mila’s disappearance were those of shock and disbelief—certainly beyond anything expected of a student’s dropping out of school and chasing a dream to New York City. It was a very difficult time for him. He was convinced, despite the lack of evidence—other than the letter, which he was certain had not come from her hand—that she was gone. He prayed for her but was incapable of explaining what had happened. Somehow, he believed, she would find a way to communicate with him. Her going to New York to chase her dream made sense to him. If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. Maybe she just couldn’t wait any longer. But it didn’t answer why she’d left without telling him or anyone else—that was a huge missing piece. Ethan only knew that she was gone and that he couldn’t bear her absence.
Still, he knew—as Mila would demand—that the show must go on. The theater group played to six sold-out performances in four days, exactly as scheduled. After the upset and disaster of opening night, Alexander led the cast in regrouping, first asking whether they should continue without Mila. It was unanimous to go on with the remaining five shows, each dedicated to Mila. Ethan was grateful but at the same time surprised, as dedications were usually reserved for those absent due to circumstances beyond their control. Mila had quit the show. The cast’s reaction fluctuated between a melancholy sadness and silent remembrance of their fellow actor, but perform they did.
It was most difficult for Ethan. Every word of every line seemed to bring Mila close but never touchable. He questioned whether it was right to put himself through such an ordeal. Time dripped by, as thoughts and vision melded together and produced a world only he could see and control, going in and coming out. Tears would roll down his cheeks during a performance, smearing his stage makeup. After one performance, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, looking like an Alice Cooper rip-off with mascara running down his face. With each sold-out performance, the local community’s support was astounding. Mila’s absence, sadly, seemed to generate more publicity than if she’d actually been there to perform.
At the beginning of their final performance, Ethan delivered a special dedication to his mentor, Mila, in which he vowed to carry her dream to the world and, God willing, allow her to attain hers. He stood straight and erect as he delivered the speech, holding his voice strong amid the tears rolling down his cheeks. His heart was in pieces. Mila’s absence was beyond his comprehension, yet he remained strong for her. She would never accept any thumb-sucking, sympathy-laden drivel. “Shake life’s foundations until it gives you what you want,” she’d told him on several occasions, even the night before leaving. The theater troupe’s final performance was magnificent; Ethan was truly inspirational to those who attended. He had found his place beside Mila and would do his all to bring her back. Her spirit was with them on the stage. Their performance tingled the senses and left the audience breathless.
Despite his attempts to deal with it, Ethan could not bring himself to believe Mila was gone. There was something unreachable, put away and inaccessible, that drove him to his wit’s end and kept the police listening. Did he have the energy and wherewithal to keep going? He vowed he would never stop chasing the dream Mila had inspired in him.
In the days and weeks that followed the end of the show, life on campus began to reshape itself, and Ethan found no new information on Mila. Many of those closest to her stopped talking to him. “She’s gone, Ethan. You have to let her go.” Ethan maintained that he couldn’t make sense of it. How could she make her dream come true by being invisible? It didn’t make sense.
During this time, her class friend Sean came forward about a phone call he’d received from her the night prior to her disappearance. Sean had been questioned by the police, but Ethan really didn’t understand why. Sean told Ethan they’d met at Charly’s, as Mila needed to relax; she was so uptight and nervous about the big performance. Under the scrutiny of police interrogation, it turned out that Sean had made up the story—there’d been no meeting—to keep the police on Mila’s case. Sean had an alibi—he was with a friend in the audience to watch Mila in Another Color Blue. Ethan didn’t see much of Sean after that and continued to believe Sean knew more than he admitted.
Ethan fought to finish his engineering studies. Machine-like, he worked an incredible schedule, determined to complete his year so he could go on to graduate. His anguish seemed to translate into intense focus on his studies. Mila was with him; each night he could hear her whispering his name, telling him to go on and never stop. Life would give him everything; he had to persevere.
Still unable to answer what had happened, he sought counsel at the university’s health services.
Ethan described the e
xtent to which he missed Mila. It was beyond anything he’d ever dealt with. She was with him. He often felt her presence beside him. There were times when he could almost reach out and touch her, only to have her vanish like vapor. The same sense of emptiness would overcome him as he’d experienced when he’d first learned of her disappearance.
“It’s a difficult time for you,” the doctor who saw him empathized at their first meeting. “It doesn’t make sense. Grieving for those we’re closest to is difficult.”
“I pray she’s alive and okay,” Ethan said, “but fear she’s not.” Pausing a moment, he then added, “And I’m helpless to do anything about it.”
“Ethan,” the health services doctor replied, “I would like to set up an appointment for you to meet with Dr. Katharine at the Royal Ottawa Hospital.”
“Okay,” Ethan replied. “But why, exactly?”
“It’s standard protocol,” the doctor answered matter-of-factly, “but after any traumatic event in a person’s life, it’s good to speak with a professional who can sometimes lessen the burden. Dr. Katharine is exceptional at what she does.”
Chapter 7
Real Time
December 1983
Initially, the police would contact Ethan by phone, ask him a few questions about Mila, and probe for anything, endlessly looking for clues. As time passed, the calls became less frequent; more often than not, Ethan was the one initiating them. Had they made any progress? Were there any new facts or clues? But the end result was always the same—if they uncovered anything, they’d let him know, and he should do likewise. The weeks became months, but Mila’s memory remained alive inside him.
Ethan and Robbie became much closer. They would do anything for one another. Their friendship helped Ethan become aware that certain people were meant to do certain things; that they were wired in certain ways—Robbie, for example, was gifted in math and science. Ethan would spend hours studying and completing assignments, but Robbie would hardly crack a book, yet he’d walk away with the top mark in the class.
The Actor Page 4