Sheldon suddenly appeared. “What have you done?” he cried out to Teddy with his signature nasal censure.
“What does it look like, Shelly? Your assignment is being besieged by a sprinkler system.”
Teddy turned his attention to the sprinkler heads along the ceiling in the hallway. He heat up their sensors and set off the entire row.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Luke shouted as the sprinklers pelted them with zinging rain.
“Aghhhhhhh, ughhhhhhhh, aghhhhhhh!” Misty squealed. “Aghhhhhhh, ughhhhhhhh, aggghhhhhhh!” It was the chorus to the new hit song, “Luke and Misty Get Payback and More”.
“You’ll be sorry for this, Teddy Mulligan.” Sheldon bleated like a tattletale goat. “You’ll never be a keeper again as long as you exist. As long as you exist!”
Sheldon followed Luke and Misty into the stairwell as they clawed their soggy way down fifteen flights of stairs amongst the other disgruntled vacationers evacuating the hotel.
With everything set in motion, Teddy went back to check on Gracie. She was still on the telephone with her mother, who was insisting that Gracie hang up and check to make sure there wasn’t really a fire.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Mom. Just an annoying fire drill.”
“But, Gracie, it’s so loud. I can hear it all the way through phone. It sounds like you should take it seriously.”
“Luke left to go get ice. If it’s important, he’ll come back to get me.”
“Really, honey, I think you should go find out for sure.”
“No, Mom, I’m telling you, it’s just a stupid fire drill—”
“Well, do you smell any smoke or any…?”
Her mom’s voice cut-off and the line went dead.
“Mom? Mom? Hello?” Gracie reset the receiver a few times, but there was only silence.
Teddy had schazamed their connection—one of many benefits of being a keeper in a higher dimension. Cell phone connectivity, television reception, electricity, radio waves in the lower dimension? No match against the interference of cosmic energy from the higher dimensions, and especially useful when a keeper wants to send a message by turning on the radio when their assignment’s favorite song is playing, or initiate a phone call from someone their assignment was just thinking about.
Gracie moved towards the bedroom window. She glanced down to the street, lined with blinking red fire trucks, and suddenly realized maybe this was no annoying fire drill. She immediately thought of Luke. Gracie had no intentions of leaving the hotel until she found Luke. But unfortunately for Gracie, Luke had no qualms about escaping the hotel without his wife.
Still in her black tango dress, Gracie slipped on her high heels and exited her suite.
“Luke?” she called out into the abandoned hallway. She shouted his name into the stairwell, but only heard her own echo before doubling back into the hallway.
Suddenly, two fire fighters bustled through the southwest emergency door, carrying a frightened three-year-old girl in their arms. They flagged down Gracie with urgent directness.
“You, you there, lady,” one of the firemen called out. He was built like a gymnast, short and bulky with a trusting face and a direct tone. “You need to exit the hotel. We’re doing a fire sweep and everyone needs to be out.”
“But I need to find my husband—”
“Sorry, ma’am. Everyone’s gotta leave.” The fireman pressed the elevator call button and propped open the doors with his gloved hand. “He’s probably downstairs, looking for you.”
Gracie hesitated before reluctantly boarding the elevator.
“It’s okay. We’ve cleared the elevators.” The fireman sensed Gracie’s uneasiness and winked. “Fastest way down.”
The fireman’s partner, a young lanky kid, passed off the little girl to Gracie. “We found her on the fourth floor in the vending machine room. Separated from her mother. Take her down to the lobby and turn her over to the cops. They’ll handle her from there.”
The doors closed before Gracie had a chance to thank them. The elevator descended slowly, and the little girl isolated herself into the far corner of the cab before peering up at Gracie.
“So what’s your name?” Gracie knelt down to meet the child, face-to-face.
“Lily.”
“Hi, Lily. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. We’ll find your mommy, okay?”
The little girl nodded. She was an attractive child with china doll skin and bashful blue eyes. Then, unexpectedly, Lily gazed up at Teddy with casual familiarity. “Will he help, too?”
“Who?”
“Your friend,” Lily answered.
Gracie glanced around the empty cab. “Friend?”
Teddy stared down at Lily with a smile. “You can see me?”
Lily nodded, kicking up her foot into the air.
“Like an imaginary friend?” Gracie asked her.
“No, he’s real.”
“Tell her my name is Teddy. And that I’m her friend, too.”
“His name is Teddy. He’s your friend, too.” Lily repeated.
“Tell her that I like her a lot.”
“He likes you a lot,” she added, slipping her hand into Gracie’s.
“He does?” Gracie exclaimed, squeezing the child’s hand with a pleasant laugh. “Well, that’s certainly nice of him. What does he look like?”
Lily looked at Teddy closely. “He wears a red jacket.”
“Yeah? And what else?”
“And he smiles a lot,” Lily finally said.
Teddy burst into laughter.
“Really? Smiles a lot, huh? Well, I like friends who smile a lot.”
Teddy gazed at Gracie, cherishing the rare opportunity to talk to her directly. “And
tell her, Lily, that I like it when she smiles, too. But she doesn’t do it enough. She needs to smile more. Can you tell her that for me?”
“And he says,” Lily said with precious obedience, “that he likes it when you smile, too. So do it more.”
Gracie smiled wide and looked right at Teddy. In that moment, Teddy peered into her soul and knew they were meant for each other.
Suddenly, the elevator doors chimed open. Gracie and Lily exited into the hotel lobby, teaming with policemen and fire fighters.
“C’mon, Lily. Better if I carry you,” Gracie said, lifting the child into her arms.
A few of the police officers waved Gracie through the lobby and out the revolving doors. Gracie never once considered abandoning the child into their care. Instead, she circled out of the revolving doors and into discombobulated chaos. Apocalyptic red and white strobe lights flashed in eerie silence as throngs of fire fighters loitered outside the hotel. Crews of first-responders poured into the lobby, towing fire hoses and ladder extensions while others rushed outside, shouting new directives to their subordinates. Lily clung to Gracie’s body as a paramedic team with an ambulance stretcher pushed past them and through two parked fire trucks.
“Somebody get this lady and her kid on the other side of the tape,” bellowed the crusty senior police captain, pointing out Gracie and Lily with his bullhorn.
A strong hand seized Gracie’s forearm and escorted her around two squad cars and under a flimsy barrier of orange CAUTION TAPE. Gracie and Lily were absorbed into the crowd of curious pedestrians and nervous hotel guests. Babies were crying, couples were cradling each other, and whole families gazed and pointed up, trying to determine if they saw smoke ascending from the apex of the hotel. Everyone stood around in their bathing suits and pajamas, and business suits and evening dresses, waiting in anticipation for some directive from patrolling emergency personnel that would hint at the severity of the situation.
“Lily!” a woman cried out.
Gracie and Lily turned to the voice, just as the woman stole the child out of Gracie’s arms. The mother, hysterical with joy at the sight of her missing daughter, kissed Lily with repetitive affection and whisked the child away from the fluttering commotion. Gracie and Teddy’
s only good-bye to Lily was a rushed, reflexive wave as Lily’s mother carried her off through the herds of ebbing and flowing bodies.
Worrying about Lily had taken Gracie’s mind of Luke, but now, without the distraction of caring for a lost child, Gracie immediately wondered if Luke was trapped somewhere inside the hotel.
He wasn’t inside the hotel. He was ten yards away, attempting to shake Misty off his tail, who was trailing him and vocalizing her embittered rant of hysteria. Everyone within earshot turned their attention to the melodramatic scene unfolding between the scantily-clad psycho bitch and her half-naked boyfriend—including Gracie.
“I said, stay away from me, you stupid whore,” Luke belted out, lurching forward at Misty and threatening her with physical violence. “It’s over. You got that? Go find yourself another hotel and another pimp to pay for it. YOU GOT IT!”
“Luke?” Gracie said his name, stunned.
Misty and Luke turned mechanically to her familiar voice. Teddy watched them in anticipation. It was the moment he had worked for all night, the moment which would alter Gracie’s Destiny.
“Gracie—” Luke’s voice climbed octaves he hadn’t hit since puberty.
“What’s going on?” the question fell dead out of Gracie’s mouth. It was obvious what was going on. Luke was in his boxers. Misty was in her lingerie. They both were sopping wet and feloniously half-naked. Gracie’s eyes shifted from Luke to Misty, then back to Luke again. They looked like two traumatized alley cats caught in a torrential hurricane. Indeed, tomcat Luke had spent all his nine lives; his number was up.
“You told me you were getting ice?” Gracie barely whispered the words. Her porcelain face turned to ash, and her mouth frowned with despair. It was as if she was being tortured, slowly, deliberately, and without any hope of mercy. Gracie turned away and wandered towards the open road in front of the hotel.
“You stupid bitch. This is your fault!” Luke screamed at Misty. “Gracie! GRACIE!” He chased after his wife, grabbing her arm and stopping her cold. She submitted to him; he was physically stronger and she had no choice. But she only saw his mouth moving as she studied the beads of fresh water on his exposed chest. She didn’t hear his empty pleas or convoluted explanations about why Misty was also half-naked and wet, and staying in their same hotel on their honeymoon. When he let go of her arm, she wandered away again, first aimlessly, then towards the main beach road as if she planned on walking all the way back to Chicago.
“Gracie, please, honey, can you please just stop walking—” Luke was begging, pleading, even teary-eyed.
But Gracie ignored him, not out of infuriated conviction, but simply because she had insulated her consciousness—pushed it deep, deep down into a calm, quiet, protective place. She was still in her black tango dress. Two hours ago, she had been a happily married newlywed, enjoying a glamorous evening dinner with the love of her life. Now, she was discarded and destitute as she zigzagged through the middle of the dark dusty road that led to nowhere, except away from the man who she no longer wanted to be her husband. She only stopped once, violently pulling away from Luke before kicking off her stiletto heels. There were no tears in her eyes; instead, her body shuttered involuntarily in sharp, erratic intervals. Gracie was falling apart from the inside out, unable to cope with the reality of her situation, and it was the only time Teddy regretted his actions that night.
“Gracie, please, baby, please… Talk to me about this—“ Luke seized her hand and pulled her into his arms. Her lips were bitten red; she would not let him see her cry. Luke held her like a limp rag doll. She refused to look at him, no matter how much he gasped out his apologies and excuses. Then, she finally she tore away, crossing to the opposite side of the road, nearly stepping out in front of a cruising taxi that slowed as it passed the scene of a couple in turmoil.
“Hey, Gracie from Chicago!” the voice called out from the taxi’s rear seat window.
Gracie gazed at the stranger, blinking over and over as if she was trying to place the familiar face. It was Baldy Burt—of all people. She approached the taxi, carefully, slowly, and without concern for her disheveled appearance. Immediately, Burt recognized something was wrong—very wrong. He glanced at Gracie’s haggard expression and bare feet. “Everything okay?
Gracie shook her head, but she could not speak.
Burt peered back at Luke through the taxi’s broad rear window. Luke had flopped down on the side of the road where he sat with his knees cradled into his chest, holding his head like a broken man. “That your husband back there?”
Gracie glanced back at Luke, and nodded. Then she peered into the taxi. “You’re leaving?” she asked, noting Burt’s carry-on luggage.
“Yeah, my flight leaves tonight. Good timing, too, huh? It’s pretty crazy back there—”
“Can you take me to the airport?” Gracie interrupted him. “I need to get back to Chicago. Tonight.”
Burt looked at Gracie; she had no shoes, no purse, no money, nothing to call her own except her delicate face and her genuine need for his help.
“Please?” she whispered.
Burt didn’t know what was wrong or why Gracie needed to go back to Chicago. He also didn’t know why her husband sat dissolved on the side of the road. He only knew by the vacant look in Gracie’s eyes that he had no other choice. He got out of the taxi and held the door open for her, who slid across the taxi’s vinyl upholstery to the opposite side of the seat.
Luke suddenly jumped to his feet. As the taxi pulled away, he wailed into the air and shouted after her. Burt rolled up his window, a gesture of compassion as he saw tears rolling down Gracie’s face.
Blue Hair sat in the front seat of the taxi. She never acknowledged Teddy; she simply cocked her peacock neck back at Gracie, in tears, and shook her head. “Poor, poor, dear.”
Chapter Eleven
A keeper may give and receive assistance from his fellow keepers
The taxi driver coasted through the evening congestion of competing cabs, shuttles, and limousines before finally halting curbside at the airport terminal.
“Keep the change,” Burt handed the driver a twenty, even though the cost of the ride was less than half that. Gracie shuffled onto the curb and watched the taxi driver lift Burt’s luggage out of the trunk.
Burt bent down and rummaged through his carry-on bag. He retrieved a pair of aquamarine blue flip-flops.
“Here—” he handed the flip-flops to Gracie. “They don’t exactly go with your dress, but at least they’re something.”
Gracie slipped on the flip-flops and followed Burt out of the cab.
How about your coat? Teddy eyed Burt’s belongings.
“And take this, too,” Burt suddenly offered. “ Airports get kinda cold, you know.”
Gracie accepted the long black business coat. Its sleeves cascaded over her hands and its shoulders expanded beyond her slender frame, but she was happy to hide her revealing dress under its bulky protection. Burt lifted up the suitcases and headed through the sliding doors.
“I don’t have any money,” Gracie suddenly said, stopping on the edge of the curb, as if once she entered the airport, she could never go back. “I left everything at the hotel, my wallet, my keys, my credit cards—” Gracie’s voice thawed into desperation. She was waking from her haze, as if the frostbite around her heart was thawing from a pulsing numbness into a biting sting.
C’mon, I’ll take care of you, Teddy whispered.
“C’mon. I’ll take care of you,” Burt repeated with confidence and charged ahead into the terminal.
It was almost ten o’clock and the terminal was empty and quiet. The white-washed walls and neon lights illuminated its interior with the strength of daylight; only the slow gait of the travelers and the sparse activity at the check-in counters suggested it was night.
“Hi, I’m checking in for my flight out to Detroit,” Burt said, approaching an airport ticket agent at a near-by counter. “But we need to buy my wife a ticket back to C
hicago for tonight.”
“Well, I can put her on the red-eye flight,” the ticket agent said. “Last one out of Maui until tomorrow morning. Flight 177 to Chicago. Stops in Los Angeles. It’s leaving in an hour. Can I see your identifications, please?”
Baldy took out his wallet and slapped his license on the counter.
“My wife and I were staying at the Grande Maui Resort. They had a fire there tonight. It was total chaos, fire trucks everywhere, cops up everyone’s ass.”
The ticket agent raised his eyebrow at Burt’s colorful and unnecessary visual description. She was a fifty-year-old blonde, trying to be forty, and her perfunctory professional manner had long since been thrown into autopilot. Teddy glanced over at her overweight keeper, who sat on the edge of the conveyor belt like he hadn’t moved off his blubbery existence in over a century. Clearly, waiting around an airport for eternity had caught up to Tubby’s waistline.
“Look—” Burt stopped, shifting his eyes to the ticket agent’s name tag: nancy. “—Nancy. We really need you to help us out.”
“Well, Mr. Bassey,” Nancy chirped. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do much for your wife without some form of identification.”
Burt and Teddy glared at Nancy. Apparently, Nancy was going to be a stickler about Federal laws. “Look, we had to evacuate before my wife could get her purse and luggage out of our room. So she doesn’t have I.D. or nothing.”
“That’s the best story you can come up with?” Nancy’s keeper barked at Teddy.
“It’s the truth,” Teddy replied.
Tubby shook his head in disgust, his rolls of cosmic fat jiggled down from his chin to his feet. “She’ll never let you through security with a story like that.”
“Your wife’s traveling to Chicago, but you’re traveling to Detroit?” Nancy questioned Burt, exhibiting skepticism that the pretty young girl and balding unkempt bachelor were really married.
“See what I mean…?” Tubby huffed, towing himself up from the metallic ledge of the conveyer belt. Nancy’s keeper was a monstrous force of kinetic lard and it was hard to imagine that such a massive force was completely invisible to mortals in the lower dimension.
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