That’s not fer you ta decide, baby. Ya did the right thing. Cross my heart ’n’ kiss my earlobes. Let’s eat I’m starvin’!
Velvet sits with Brinkley and Clara on the floor, watching as they devour the Chinese takeout.
CLARA BOW
Hello. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I hadda keep my mouth shut ’til he did the pillow thing. My name’s Clara Bow.
She extends her hand to Velvet, who shakes it.
VELVET
Yes, I know who you are. The great movie star. The “It Girl” of the ’20s. It’s an honour to meet you.
Brinkley is unaware of their conversation.
CLARA BOW
Ah well, thanks. The movie business is murder, I can tell ya that much.
VELVET
I’m sure it is. You’re so beautiful. Um . . . How is it that you’re here?
CLARA BOW
Whaddya mean?
VELVET
I mean, how can you be here? Do you time travel?
CLARA BOW
How could I be anywhere else? I’m Brinkley’s special friend.
VELVET
So am I.
CLARA BOW
So that’s why you’re here?
VELVET
Yeah. That’s why I’m here. But he can’t see me.
CLARA BOW
What can I say, honey? He’s only got eyes fer me.
(pause)
Sorry fer askin’, but do you got uh disease or somethin’? How come yer hair is different colors? And you got bald patches. How come yer eyes look kinda funny?
VELVET
Um, no, I don’t have a disease. It’s a long story.
(pause)
Will you tell him sometime that I was here?
CLARA BOW
Sure I will. What’s yer name?
VELVET
Velvet.
CLARA BOW
Yer name’s Velvet? That’s the bee’s knees! I love velvet opera coats.
VELVET
Thanks. So do I.
Clara pulls open the bag of fortune cookies. She cracks a cookie.
CLARA BOW
(reads)
“You have the qualities to become a star.”
(throws it over her shoulder and snorts)
Ha! Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.
She cracks another cookie.
CLARA BOW
(reads)
“You will live a very happy life.”
(rips it up)
Bullshit! This stuff’s bunk! Read yours, Brinkley.
BRINKLEY
(cracks one and reads)
“You will find true love where you least expect it.”
Clara giggles and looks coy.
BRINKLEY
I love you, Clara.
CLARA BOW
That’s right, baby.
Velvet looks long at Brinkley. She reaches out and touches his face.
VELVET
(softly)
Brinkley . . .
CLARA BOW
Brinkley! Watch this!
She jumps up and runs across the room, begins to Charleston wildly beside Rita/Mother’s body. Brinkley forces a smile.
BRINKLEY
You’re a real floorflusher.
Velvet places both her hands on his face. She touches his hair.
VELVET
(softly)
Brinkley, I want you to know that I—
The pink-walled menace, my bedroom Hell, closed in around me tight as a fat fist as I sat, once again, in the middle of the carpet.
INT. DAVIE’S APARTMENT—LIVING ROOM—NIGHT
Brinkley looks around, startled at where he finds himself. The apartment is in boxes and Velvet sits on one by the window, her eyes at sea in the night. She wears a red velvet mandarin-collared dress, jewel-encrusted high-heeled sandals, a cloche hat and black lace gloves. Her make-up is artful and dramatic: Egyptianesque kohl-lined eyes and red lips. Davie paces, fiddling with his camera.
BRINKLEY
Velvet!
She does not hear or see him, and neither does Davie.
BRINKLEY
Velvet!
He moves to her, touches her shoulder.
BRINKLEY
Velvet, it’s me.
She does not feel him.
VELVET
(looking at Davie)
I don’t feel like having my picture taken.
DAVIE
What are you talking about? You always want me to take your picture.
VELVET
Not now.
DAVIE
This is our window shot. One last time before I go.
She returns her eyes to the night beyond the window.
VELVET
Don’t say that.
(pause)
Do your Groucho Marx.
DAVIE
(as Groucho)
“You’re heading for a breakdown, why don’t you pull yourself to pieces?” “Either this man is dead or my watch has stopped.”
Velvet smiles.
VELVET
More!
DAVIE
(as Groucho)
“Go, and never darken my towels again.”
She laughs.
VELVET
You’re better than the real Groucho Marx.
Brinkley crouches at Velvet’s feet, his hand resting on top of hers. He never takes his eyes off her.
VELVET
There any egg rolls left in your fridge?
DAVIE
Yeah. A couple.
She gets up and moves to the kitchen. Brinkley follows her, still holding her hand.
INT. DAVIE’S APARTMENT—KITCHEN—CONTINUOUS
Velvet, unaware, pulls her hand away from his when she opens the refrigerator, but he continues to stand very close. From the fridge she pulls a squashed carton, opens it and forces an entire egg roll into her mouth with the heel of her hand, then leans against the door, trying to chew. Brinkley picks up a homemade, real-potato Mr. Potato Head, who wears tiny pipe cleaner glasses and a red- and blue-striped tie. He picks up another, who wears a little satin evening dress cut on the bias. He fingers the material.
DAVIE
(O.S.)
Maybe I should go to New York instead. I wanna be in Kiss of the Spider Woman.
VELVET
(mouth full)
Its Broadway run closed a zillion years ago. Besides, you can’t sing.
DAVIE
(O.S.)
Fuck off.
Davie sings “Anything For Him” from Kiss of the Spider Woman, his voice off-key. Velvet stuffs another egg roll in her mouth, chokes. Brinkley rubs her back.
BRINKLEY
(softly)
Velvet, look at me.
DAVIE
(O.S.)
You finished in there, Miss Piggy?
VELVET
Fuck you.
DAVIE
(O.S.)
Ooh, testy.
Davie sticks his head in the kitchen.
DAVIE
Come on, Velcro Chenille. Picture’s up.
Brinkley stares at Davie, shakes his head.
VELVET
All right, coming.
INT. DAVIE’S APARTMENT—LIVING ROOM—CONTINUOUS
VELVET
Where should I stand?
Brinkley stands next to Velvet.
DAVIE
By the window.
Brinkley follows Velvet to the window, then darts into a corner when Davie points the camera in their direction. Velvet looks out at the sky.
VELVET
Full moon.
DAVIE
No wonder I’ve got cramps.
VELVET<
br />
PMS?
DAVIE
Full moons wreak havoc with my hormones, darling. Now, look straight at me. Fabulous hat, darling, fabulous hat. Trés Golden Age of Hollywood.
VELVET
Are you going to hang these pictures in your new apartment?
DAVIE
But of course, my dear. If they turn out. Okay, stand still. Don’t smile.
VELVET
Don’t worry. I won’t.
Davie begins snapping photos. Velvet’s doleful stare is steadfast and unblinking.
DAVIE
Relax. You look like a zombie mannequin.
VELVET
Maybe I should come to L.A. with you.
DAVIE
What would you do in L.A.?
VELVET
I don’t know. Handle your costumes.
DAVIE
They have studio people for that. Suck in your stomach. The egg rolls aren’t flattering the dress.
BRINKLEY
(softly, from the corner)
She’s beautiful, just as she is.
VELVET
Maybe we should each get one of those picture frames that record a voice message, so you can have a picture of me and a bit of my voice, and I can have a picture of you and a bit of your voice. But I know we’ll be talking on the phone.
Davie snaps away.
DAVIE
Tilt your chin up and to the left.
VELVET
Stop shooting.
He continues.
VELVET
Stop . . . Stop!
He lowers the camera.
DAVIE
What?
VELVET
Won’t you miss me?
He looks away.
VELVET
Davie. I’ll miss you.
DAVIE
Sure. Sure I’ll miss you, Velcro Chenille. You know I will.
(straining for humour)
I won’t have anyone to visit in the psych ward!
(pause)
I . . . love you. You know that?
VELVET
(softly)
Stay. Please stay. For me.
Davie looks at her. Neither blinks. Moments pass. Velvet pulls off her gloves, finger by finger. She undoes her dress, steps out of it. She is not wearing undergarments. She kicks off her sandals. From his corner, Brinkley watches, drop-jawed. Velvet moves toward Davie, wearing only her cloche hat. A marmoreal mask of almost-fear has settled over his features. When she reaches him, she removes the camera from his hand and sets it on the floor. He opens his mouth to speak, but she covers it with her hand. She touches his cheek, places his hand on her breast. Davie looks like a small, lost boy, terrified into stillness. Velvet backs him into a chair, pulls off his shirt, then his pants. He does not resist, nor does he help. Brinkley remains in the corner. Velvet lowers herself into Davie’s lap. He does not touch her, but sits straight and rigid in the chair, as on a throne: “The Emperor’s No Clothes.” She covers his eyes, places her mouth on his. Brinkley sits on the floor in a tight rocking ball, his face half-buried in his arms. His strange eyes glow like limelight, trained in unbroken beams on the couple in the chair. Velvet and Davie kiss for a moment, awkwardly; he is still not touching her. She bites down hard on his lip; he cries out and shoves her, but she hangs on and they fall to the floor. A heap of tangled, wrestling limbs, mouths that snarl and bite. Both Velvet and Davie’s lips are bloody. She pierces his ear with her teeth, he digs his teeth and nails into her shoulders. A victor with a mount: Velvet is on top, Davie is inside her. The Shadowman appears as Zorro. He points his rapier at Velvet.
SHADOWMAN
Whore! Whore! Whore! Whore! Whore!
Velvet shrieks. Brinkley gapes, shock and horror waging stiff competition for control of his face. In an instant, the Shadowman morphs, becoming the white-faced devil with long black nails. He moves at an oozing pace toward Velvet, his feet turned balletically outward, sleek as a wet panther.
SHADOWMAN
(hissing)
S-s-slut. S-s-slut. S-s-slut. S-s-slut. S-s-slut.
Velvet screams, rolls off Davie and crawls to the wall, curls up, clings to it.
DAVIE
What the—
SHADOWMAN
(advancing)
You fucking whore! Stand up, little girl. I have something to show you.
Velvet squeezes shut her eyes, plugs her ears, screams and screams. Brinkley trembles. Davie is shaking Velvet. She opens her eyes, tries to fight him off.
DAVIE
Velvet! Velvet! Velvet!
Velvet shrieks, punches him in the nose. Davie reels backward, holding his face. Velvet continues to scream.
SHADOWMAN
You little slut! You dirty little slut!
He clicks his pointed fingernails. Davie pulls on his clothes and runs from the apartment, holding his nose. Velvet covers her head with her hands. The Shadowman grabs her chin. Brinkley takes a deep breath.
SHADOWMAN
Do you want to die, little girl? Do you want to die? Would that be fun? Shall I kill you? Ooh, now that would be fun! How shall I do it? Shall I skin you alive?
VELVET
P-p-please l-leave m-m-me a-l-l-one. P-pleas-se . . .
Brinkley tears from his corner like a freed bat, grabs the Shadowman’s arm and jerks him away from Velvet. The Shadowman turns in surprise.
SHADOWMAN
Who the fuck are you?
BRINKLEY
I’m her friend.
SHADOWMAN
She doesn’t have any friends.
(staring at Brinkley’s streaky, falling-out hair and strange, glowing eyes)
What kind of freak are you?
Velvet still crouches against the wall, covering her head. She cries softly. The Shadowman backs Brinkley toward the opposite wall.
SHADOWMAN
Shall I kill you, too?
He clicks his fingernails. Brinkley shakes. The Shadowman grabs him by the collar.
BRINKLEY
Y-you g-get out-t of h-h-here. L-leave us a-a-l-lone.
SHADOWMAN
What was that? Couldn’t quite understand you, my boy. Do you speak English?
Brinkley winds up and punches the Shadowman in the jaw. The white-faced devil hits the floor, lies there in a theatrical heap. Brinkley is stunned, and looks from his fist to the Shadowman and back again. The devil staggers to his feet, holding his jaw. He shoots Brinkley a hurt, almost pouty look as he moves away.
BRINKLEY
You leave her alone! Don’t ever come back!
SHADOWMAN
Oh trust me, my boy, I will be back. I will be back.
The Shadowman disappears. Brinkley looks across the room at Velvet. She remains curled against the wall, hands covering her head, eyes squeezed shut. He goes to her, drops to the floor, puts his arms around her naked body.
BRINKLEY
(softly)
He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you. Open your eyes.
Velvet opens her eyes, casts furtive, terrified glances around the empty room. She lowers her hands. Brinkley wipes the tears from her face.
BRINKLEY
Please look at me. Please see me.
She stares in confusion at the empty room. He places a hand on her heart.
She looks right at him, but does not see him. He touches her face.
BRINKLEY
Velvet, I want you to know that I—
13
Dear Brinkley,
I was with you when you killed your mother. You couldn’t see me or feel me, but I was there. I stepped into my mirror and into your life. I watched you kill her. And then you started to laugh, and I did too—it was infectious. Sometimes murder leads to hiccups. But it wasn’t murder, not really.
You did the right thing. I met Clara Bow, the great movie star. I can understand why you loved her. Well, sort of. She’s a spitfire, that one. So time travel must exist. That’s kind of exciting. Too bad I had to come all this way to find that out.
I’m glad I got to touch you, just once. This place has its privileges.
Sincerely, Velvet
Dear Velvet,
You were the last person to touch me. The morning after I killed my mother, I was hit by a car. I am not sure what I would have done with her body—Clara hadn’t given me instructions about that, and I had gone to bed worried about it.
I saw you, I spoke to you, I held you. I stepped into my mirror and there you were. Your friend Davie was not careful with you. Your love for him was the most valuable thing he had. People should always be careful with each other.
I don’t think you have to worry about the Shadowman anymore. I had a bit of a showdown with him, and sent him into retreat. First punch I’ve ever thrown! At first he was a Zorro look-alike, cruel and taunting. Then he became the white-faced ghoul, the devil with long black nails. He came after you and you were screaming, of course you were, and so I punched him. He fell to the floor! When I told him to leave you alone, he disappeared. You looked at me, Velvet, you looked but you did not see me. What I would give to have you look me in the face, and see.
Yours very truly,
Brinkley
Dear Brinkley,
So you beat down the demon that stalked me! Thank you for protecting me. I hope you punched hard! Maybe the Shadowman is gone for good. And I have you to thank.
Davie was never careful about anything, or anyone. But he was loyal to me, and loved me in his way. I used to love it when he’d photograph me. At his best, he’d make me feel like a movie star, at his worst, well, you know . . .
I’m running out of paper. I still have some left, but so far it doesn’t seem to be magically self-replacing and so I’ve realized that I don’t have the freedom to blab. This must also be true of you. Unless you have extra legal pads, which I doubt. If you do, push some pages through. New development: voices. Can you hear them? They hurt my ears after the treacle-thick silence. I’m not sure yet what I’m listening to. A buzzing, a high-pitched beeping, a rustling. Comes in and out, like sounds from a damaged radio.
Sincerely, Velvet
Dear Velvet,
No paper to send you. I also must prune my thoughts. I heard a voice—female. Almost sounded like she was calling my name. Not sure. I shook all over. Fingers keep bleeding because I’ve chewed the nails down to the quick. Something worse: I saw my mother’s face in the mirror. I am curled up in a corner as I write this, afraid to go near the glass. I will stare at the whiteness outside the window while I await your reply. The mirror side of the room feels haunted. I can feel the cold needles in my spine. She always hated me. Why did I bother trying to love her?
The Delphi Room Page 17