by Lee Taylor
The garden is lit with soft pastels. More white lights twinkle in the moonlight, like a thousand fireflies dancing to the music. I’m filled with emotion and decide to go with the moment. “I used to catch fireflies and hold them in my hand with just enough separation between my fingers to see their glow and feel their tickle, then I’d let them go and watch as they drifted back to their friends.”
“I’d have loved to know you then. Be your friend. Walk over to your house and call for you. ‘Can Carly come out and play?’ All starlight and curls,” Mike says as he reaches for my hand, and wraps his thin, long fingers around mine, encircling my fears. I feel myself letting go. Feel the tears blurring my vision. Will it be just for tonight or will this last? It’s supposed to last. Tonight, I can pretend. Like I used to.
I turn my head so that he can’t see my face, nestle down on his shoulder and say into his ear, “You were one sweet little boy. I bet every girl in school wanted your attention. Who was your very first love? Somebody with long golden hair no doubt, freckles and a dimple in each cheek. Did you ever kiss her?”
Mike hesitates for a moment, leans back and tenderly cups my chin. Stares into my eyes. “Yes…once. She had a face that I’d die for and a smile that colored my dreams.”
I’m beaming.
He continues, “She had tears in her eyes. I wiped them away with my sleeve.” He pulls down his sleeve and gently dabs under my eyes. “I kissed her,” he leans over. We kiss. I can feel myself blush with excitement. Can feel the heat. “And I told her, I love you, but she didn’t hear me.” He slips my hair away from my ear and whispers. “Can you hear me now? Tonight? I love you, Carly Rockett. Always have.”
“Me too,” I tell him. I’m so full of emotion, words don’t seem like enough. A girl up on stage sings something slow and bluesy. Mike pulls me in close. We stare at each other as if we’re each trying to understand what’s happening. Time passes. I want to tell him that I love him. Use the words. But I don’t. Maybe I won’t sound sincere. Won’t sound real.
Still staring at each other like the scene from Houseboat, Cary Grant, Sophia Loren, when they suddenly realize they’re in love. Is it the same song? Same kind of moment? Can’t really understand the words, can’t hear the music. My heart is beating too fast. But Sophia and Cary were fantasy. This is reality…isn’t it?
Twenty-five
We made love that night in my room, up against the dresser, wearing most of our clothes. Couldn’t wait. The kind of lovemaking that makes you crazy, makes you want to yell. Fast and intense. Where you’re going to die if you have to wait another second, another moment without that person on you, inside you.
That was the first time.
The second time we were on the bed, naked. We took it easy then, moving to a slower tune, lingering on a kiss, noticing each move, each sound of preference. Afterwards we slept, huddled together in contentment.
The third time was early in the morning, just as light sneaked in through the sides of the curtains. The fun kind of lovemaking, laughing at each awkward nuance, teasing with a look, taunting with a touch. Easy love. Joking about some funny thing you remember about the night before. The truly intimate kind. Lovemaking that you reflect on later during the day and shudder with pleasure over the memory of it. The dangerous kind, where it gets under your skin and you can’t forget it even when you need to, even when you have to or it will own you.
“We better get going,” I tell Mike as I jump out of bed naked and stretch like a cat while standing next to him. It’s the way I want him to think about me later. One last memory for him to take along, like a boxed lunch. “We’ve got a lot of work to do today. And once I get that video I have to get started on those phone calls. The reporters are going to jump through hoops to get their hands on it.”
While I walk into the bathroom, Mike sits up in bed. “I don’t know, Carly. This whole thing could explode. The Captain’s messing around with some pretty nasty characters. He told me they expect money out of this.”
“Wasn’t that what Speck and his boyfriend were playing with yesterday? Seemed like a lot of money.”
“I don’t know where that came from. They just had it. Brought it in with them. The Captain never said a word about it. And they had a shit-load of drugs, too.”
“So, I’ll get a TV station to pay for it. They’ll jump at the chance.”
“And then what? You going to hand some gang lord a stack of hundred-dollar bills? How’s that work?”
“Not my problem. My job was to get the camera, tape Speck in action—which you did for me, thank you—and bring the videotape out. That will all be done today. Mission accomplished. The rest, as they say, is history. Tiffany give you any problem about keeping the camera so long?”
“No. She’s been too busy to even ask for it. Do you really want to go back there today? You’re calm now. Happy even. More happy than I’ve ever seen you in months. Years. Maybe ever. I like you happy. Happy is good. Let’s keep happy and throw away sad. Why not take some time off? Vivian and I have a thing going. We’re in tune. We can handle the rest of the shoot. Go home. I’ll get the tape out and when I get home we can celebrate some more. I like the celebration part. Helps get rid of all the hate.”
I peek around the corner of the doorway wearing a towel, still brushing the last little bit of toothpaste out of my mouth, trying to remain sweet and calm. “I know you’re concerned, but I’ll be fine. Really. I can’t leave while the videotape is still inside. Once it’s out, I’ll be able to loosen up. Not now. Anyway, you’ll be busy for the next few days and no matter what you think this morning, you know Vivian is worthless anytime she’s around Arnold. You need me. Besides, now that you and I are sharing the same bed why would you want to send me away? I thought we were a team, a couple, Fred and Ginger, Bogie and Bacall.”
He doesn’t answer, instead he gets out of bed and comes into the bathroom. Walking past me, he steps into the shower and turns the water on. Mike doesn’t like to wait for the water to heat up. Likes the cold rush of it, wakes him up. He talks over the hum of the shower, “Fine, but I hope you don’t have any other plans for me. No more murderers to question in secret little rooms. No more sick answers to listen to. I’m done with all that shit. I want to forget about it now. Pretend it didn’t happen. I’d like the next few days to pass without incident. I can’t take anymore crap.” He pauses. “I want to be as serene as we were last night and this morning. This morning was very serene.”
I know he’s smiling, reflecting on the power of it all. “Can I depend on you? Or am I playing the chump? I don’t know. Once you get that tape in your hands, who knows what you’ll do. Why should I trust you today, when I couldn’t yesterday?”
I drop my towel and step into the shower with him. “Because I said so, that’s why.” I tease.
He smiles that little boy grin and pulls me in close. The water rushes over me. Warm silk. I’m at once aroused. Makes me feel all tingly and new.
“Yeah? Well, okay then. Whatever you say, Ginger,” he says and twirls me around.
Twenty-six
Can’t seem to shake all that lovemaking loose. I keep hitting the replay button in my head trying to figure out what it was all about. Why I’m feeling so good? Why I’m thinking about kids and houses? I find myself drifting back to various moments of the night and the morning and not paying much attention to the now. As if now is an intrusion. Who cares about inmates and movies at a time like this? We could be back at the motel, lying in bed, whispering romance. I keep watching Mike. The way he moves, walks, laughs, speaks. And how absolutely handsome he is: the curve of his neck, that prominent jaw, his soft lips. The way his face glows when he smiles, his muscular shoulders, chest, and his hands…those long sensual fingers, his soft touch. Maybe we can go back to the motel during our lunch break.
We’re in F-house, waiting around in between takes. I’m sitting behind a small table we set up just in front of the long ramp down to the showers.
Mi
ke’s been restless all morning. Pacing. Arguing with an AD. Guess all that sex has made him jumpy. Captain Bob approaches. “Afternoon, Captain,” I say, smiling. He ignores me. Maybe he didn’t hear me. “How’s it going, Captain Bob?” I ask, louder now, staring right at him, he at me. Still no sign of recognition. He continues on by. Probably has something on his mind. I’m anxious to find out when he’s going to pass me the tape so I can get it out of here. Drive back to the city. Make some phone calls. Set up meetings.
Vivian walks over to me carrying a stack of magazines. For some reason I don’t have the need to cringe every time she comes near. We’ve been having a conversation about some magazine that she loves called Country Living. She went off about an hour ago to get me a copy from her office. I guess she found more than one.
“Here we go,” she announces, carefully placing each one down on the folding table in front of us. “Sorry it took so long. Had to sort through a couple stacks to find my special issues. And look what I found. Some of these are my most favorite ever. My kitchen looks just like the one on page forty-seven of the May issue. As soon as I saw it, I knew I just had to have it.” She opens the magazine to the right page. I have to admit it’s a pretty nice kitchen: open cupboards, yellow and white tiles, wooden floors, window over the sink. Always thought there should be a window over the kitchen sink. A daydream window.
“My husband and I had to break out a wall to put in the window, but I think a woman needs a window over her sink, don’t you?”
This is getting pretty spooky. “Yes,” I answer, almost delighted by our being in sync. “And this is for you, Vivian. I thought you might like to hang it in your office.” I hand her an autographed picture of Arnold.
“Oh my gosh!” she squeals. “Oh my gosh! This can’t be for me. Oh my gosh!”
“Yes, Vivian. It’s even got your name on it, if you can read his writing.”
“Oh it does.” She stares down at the black and white 8x10 glossy. “This is so very wonderful. I don’t know what to say. Thank you so very, very much.” She gives me a hug. I actually hug her back. Feels kind of good. All this euphoria over a picture.
“You’re welcome, Vivian.”
“Oh, my gosh!” she says and clutches it to her heart.
I got the autographed picture this morning while she was off looking for magazines and I was thinking about what I could do for her. She’s been so helpful to us. No big deal. Just a little token.
Mike suddenly appears behind me. “We have to talk,” he grumbles.
I turn to look at him. At once, I can tell by the look on his face that something’s wrong. But then Mike always overreacts.
“Take a deep breath. Everything’s going to be fine,” I tell him and reach up to brush away his hair from his forehead. He pushes my hand away.
Mike turns to Vivian, “This is private. Would you mind?”
“Oh, dear me, no,” she squeaks, and picks up her precious magazines. “I’ll just put these back in my office where they’ll be safe. Carly, you can come by anytime and I’ll show you the September issue. It’s my new living room. And thank you again for the autographed picture of Arnold. I never could have asked him myself. You’re such a little doll.”
We watch her waddle off. When she gets a safe distance away, Mike scolds me. “I warned you not to trust him. It’s gone. Can’t find it anywhere.”
The words stick in my mouth, don’t want to say what I’m thinking. “What’s gone?”
He looks panicked. Never seen him so tight. He speaks with a deliberateness I’ve haven’t heard before, “The videotape is missing and the Captain’s suddenly playing dumb. Won’t even talk to me.”
My stomach tightens. Can’t believe what he just said. There must be some mistake. “What do you mean?”
“We kept it hidden in that room you were in, behind one of the old filing cabinets in a crack in the wall and now it’s not there. I even looked in the camera thinking that I must’ve forgotten to take it out, but no go. It’s just fucking missing.”
“Lower your voice. The Captain probably moved it. Maybe somebody was getting wise. I’ll go talk to him and straighten everything out.”
“Shit, Carly. Do you know how dangerous this is? I should have never agreed to this. What the hell was I thinking? Fuck!” Mike smashes his fist into the table. A couple people look over at him.
“Calm down. It’ll be all right.”
But he doesn’t change his mood. Instead, he paces.
I walk away, stumbling on my first step. Not quite sure of the next. Trying for certainty, finding only distrust and doubt.
The Captain and another guard stand in front of the doorway. They’re laughing, perhaps over a joke. They both look at me as I approach.
I nod to the other guard and ask, “Captain Bob. How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain,” he says still smiling from the round of laughter.
The other guard pats him on the back and announces, “Why should you complain with that promotion you just got.”
“You got a promotion?” I ask.
The Captain doesn’t answer me. Just smiles. His buddy continues, “Got hisself a big promotion. Assistant Warden over at Danville. A nice cushy job.”
“Congratulations. When did all of this come about?”
Still nothing from the Captain. The other guard continues, “Heard the news yesterday. Had no idea the man was bucking for a promotion.” The guard smiles over at Captain Bob.
“Good, that’s good. Ummm, I’m having a problem with one of my extras. Could I talk to you about it for a moment, Captain Bob or is it Major Bob now?”
“Sure,” he says but doesn’t move. There’s an awkward moment while the two guards wait to hear what I have to say. “Actually, it’s Mike who’s having the problem. Do you think you could come over and talk to him about it?”
“Maybe Jose here can help you. Have to report to Warden and sign some paperwork.” He pats Jose on the back, turns and walks away from me down the tunnel. I try to follow him, but Jose stops me after I pass the open side door. “I can’t let you through this way, Ma’am. You’ll have to go around, through the main office building.”
“But I need to talk to the Captain.”
“Sorry. Can’t let you go through.”
“But—”
“Sorry, Ma’am. Can I help you with something?”
I don’t answer. I watch as Captain Bob disappears through the metal sliding gate.
I’m dumbfounded by his reaction to me.
“Ma’am? Can I help you?” Jose repeats.
“No, thanks. I’ll just wait for the Captain to return.”
“I think he’s gonna be gone the rest of the day. Lotta red tape when you get a promotion.”
Turning around, I head back to Mike. Walking fast now. Anger in my pace, the taste of disdain in my mouth. I start talking as I approach. “Can’t get him alone. Won’t talk. He got some big promotion. Did you know anything about it?”
“No. He never said a word.”
“Made him a Major. He’s moving to Danville.”
“Danville. Fuck. This is not good, Carly.” Mike shuffles his feet and runs a hand through his hair. Tension turns his face crimson.
“Are you sure it’s gone? Did you really look?” I’m shaking now.
“What do you take me for?”
Pacing, I try to understand what’s going on. Try to deal in reason rather than panic. “Maybe he took it out last night. Had an opportunity and moved on it.”
“Carly, it’s too dangerous for him. Especially now. We’re the only ones who can get it out.”
I wrap my arms around my stomach, holding back the pain.
Mike says, “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Okay, let’s calm down. Maybe he just moved it or maybe the heat’s on him and we’ve got to hang cool for awhile. I trusted this guy. There’s got to be something to that, right? I’m a good judge of character. For now we should just wait. He’ll c
ome around.”
“Okay. Calm down.” He takes in a breath. “You’re right. He’ll probably come over and talk to us after he signs his paperwork. He’s just busy right now, that’s all.”
“Right. Let’s just concentrate on what we have coming up tomorrow. Give him a couple hours.”
“Okay, let’s see.” Mike rummages through some papers on the table, finds what he needs and starts talking again. That’s all it is now, just talk. “We need four or five guys to be sitting and standing around a couple tables. You want to handle that?”
“Yeah. Sure,” I tell him, but I’m not really listening to what he’s saying or what I’m answering. I have to leave. Have to find the Captain. Have to talk to him.
I take off. Mike calls out after me but it’s as if he’s down in a canyon somewhere and I can only hear the last echo. Not his real voice, only an echo. Not going to react to an echo.
Twenty-seven
I tried to get information out of some of the other guards about the Captain’s promotion, but they didn’t seem to know anything about it. After a couple hours of waiting around, I decided to wait outside in my car for him to come out. Eventually all the other guards came out, but no Captain
It’s late now and black as coal dust outside. I don’t like the night. Can’t see my blue sky. Like somebody dropped a curtain over me and I’m trying to peek out through a million tiny white holes. Suffocating.
Need another smoke.
I light a new cigarette with the butt of the last one. Been chain smoking for a couple hours now, getting more and more nervous, anxious. Can’t get out of the car. Not safe out there.
I drive around the parking lot, checking on his car. Still there. Been doing this on and off all day. Looking. Watching. Waiting. No Captain. Have to get out and ask about him again.
I park as close as I can and run to the Visitor’s Center. Nothing can get me if I run.
A guard who happens to know something tells me that the Captain left early today. Wasn’t feeling good. A buddy picked him up. Sometime just after the lunch.