Chloe

by McLeish, Cleveland

It feels so surreal. The idea that she created something that could germinate into a product coveted by multiple people is something she never would have thought herself capable of a year ago!

  She would not be surprised if there are dents in the armrests from how hard she squeezed the handles during takeoff. Plane are nerve wrecking! She was astonished by how heavy she felt during the process of ascending and then how her stomach practically floated up into her throat when the plane leveled out. She marvels at the mere idea that something so gigantic, and metal, can levitate in mid-air, suspended like a cloud as though it sails on light itself.

  Poetry aside, it is easily one of the most thrilling experiences of her life.

  “Alright folks,” the pilot says over the intercom above the distant hum of the engines. He has a calm, lackadaisical, systematic manner of speaking that lets her know this is perfectly routine for him. It helps ease the hammering of her heart. “Welcome aboard. This is your captain speaking. We just wanted to let you know that we have reached cruising altitude and the weather up here is pretty much ideal today. Feel free to move about the cabin. We should be landing in Atlanta in just under two hours. Have a good one and thank you for choosing us.”

  “Would you like anything to drink, miss? Or perhaps wine with dinner?” asks the flight attendant, wearing an attractive pencil skirt with a dainty pen and paper in her hands. Chloe is dumbfounded by the mere idea that they serve drinks, let alone food. The stewardess notices, adopting an understanding air. “There should be a menu in the seatback pocket,” the attendant says with a radiant smile.

  Chloe, whose stomach is in knots, declines the food, but does order a glass of champagne. It is fitting that she celebrates, in light of the fact she is on her way to meet with movie producers.

  The only thing that could make this trip any better is if James had been able to accompany her. But Chloe is a big girl and she does need to learn to do things on her own. She has failed to realize up until now how much his support and encouragement means to her.

  Being apart from him is akin to being bereft of a safety blanket.

  She is excited to be flying away from the grueling monotony that was her life before today and towards the independence of her passion. Her spirit soars as she mulls it all over. She will never have to work in Sandra’s super market again. She will never have to live under the same roof as her mother’s despicable boyfriends. She will not have to watch the world surrounding her roll around in the muck of the mundane.

  She is going places: big places!

  Throughout all this, she reminds herself to keep Christ at the forefront of her mind and thank him for his blessings in this endeavor. She has come so far. She can hardly recall the girl she used to be: clad in dark clothing and a permascowl. Her state of mind, that of a member of the gothic scene, seems so far away, so hard to recall. It feels like a dream: her life before serious writing. She has blossomed into adulthood.

  She has finally achieved freedom!

  Chloe has her second experience with luxury when she is shown to her hotel suite, complements of the film company. At first, she stands at the door: dumbfounded with a keycard in her hand. The immaculate room has a plush bed, big enough for two with large sumptuous pillows. There is a small den and kitchenette, furnished in creamy leather and speckled granite. The bathtub alone could probably accommodate three people.

  There is a wide window overlooking the city. She has never seen so many lights, twinkling together in a dazzling display, like stars.

  Chloe drops her bags on the bed, wandering around the suite and marveling at the amenities. She ghosts her fingers over the fluffy towels and the complimentary coffee filters. Even the toilet paper is folded with a triangular tab. It is all so posh and wonderful! Chloe comes full circle, back to the bed. She flops back with a thousand watt smile. She sighs contentedly.

  This is the beginning of The Life. She can feel it.

  •

  Meanwhile, back in town, James sits in the living room, trying to busy his mind with mindless television. He keeps checking his phone, waiting for a text from Chloe. Or a phone call. Something. Anything.

  In the other armchair, “I’m sure she’s fine, sweetheart,” Kathleen says after a sip of her evening coffee.

  “Yeah… I know,” he mutters with a sigh, settling back into the well cushioned ottoman. Unbeknownst to his mother, that is precisely what ails him. The idea that she could be so far away and still be fine without him is maddening.

  •

  The next morning, Chloe is to attend the big meeting. She dresses in a blouse and black slacks, wanting to appear professional with the upmost respect for these people, just like the day she went shopping for new clothing. She has a reputation to uphold now. She is a someone!

  She pulls her hair back into a ponytail and twists it into a bun. After pinning the flyaways and applying a spritz of hairspray to the up-do, Chloe inspects her reflection. She really does look different.

  Chloe catches a taxi to the office building where the meeting is scheduled to take place. She is greeted by a secretary and escorted down the hallway. After the elevator ride to the twentieth floor, Chloe sits down at a large table with a group of movie Producers, Directors and a few specially selected staff. Each of them have a copy of her screenplay. Chloe’s chest swells with pride.

  After introductions are made, they start to discuss Passion of the Cross with Chloe, who underneath her calm facade could not be more ecstatic.

  •

  It is Sunday morning. James sits at church in his usual spot, listening to his mother and Phil give the week’s sermon. He hears from Chloe sporadically and it is all he can do to cling to his sanity in her absence. He has always known that he needs her more than she needs him, but now that truth is oppressive.

  They have scarcely spent a day apart during their decades of friendship, except for when they were fighting. Even in that instance, it was torture. His faith is the glue that holds him together. All good things come to those who wait. All things work for the good of those who love God.

  •

  Discussions and settlements about royalties and contracts carry on for the next two weeks while Chloe is making adjustments to the script and her prized characters. These rather long-winded meetings are flanked by a proposed agenda and casting schedule. She spends a lot of time at the office, but there is nowhere else she would rather be than here. When Chloe sees the casting list, she is astonished to see several big names being considered for starring roles in the picture.

  •

  James stands at his desk, stooped over a newer blue print. He has both hand drawn sketches and computer printouts spread over the surface of his work space. There are scattered wads of paper tosses haphazardly over the floor too—projects that did not make the cut. He casts a fleeting glance towards the tiffany box on his bureau.

  James still has the engagement ring. Heck, to his knowledge Chloe has no idea that he plans to propose. She also has no idea that she already turned him down once. He still has the mind to ask Chloe to marry him. Now he needs the means. She is not going to be the only breadwinner in their relationship.

  That would drive him bananas.

  He is piecing together a portfolio to showcase his work to contractors and hiring firms. Chloe worked so hard to make her dreams come true. It is his turn now. Perhaps it is best that she is out of town at the moment. He can focus on his craft instead of on her. Though her image constantly preoccupies him, he finds ways to ignore it, or at least make her absence bearable. He wishes she was here for moral support, the way he has been there for her.

  He cannot stop thinking about the kiss they shared though—the kiss on the park bench the day Chloe received the infamous letter of interest. It was without a doubt the most thrilling moment of his life. And confound it all, he wants to kiss her again. He makes a mental note to do that the very minute she comes home, preferably when she steps off the plane. He’ll just waltz right up and plant one on her, in front of
everyone. It’s a statement that needs to be made. And if she gets mad, tough.

  James sits down to sort through the samples he chose and insert them into the appropriate tabs in the binder.

  •

  It is a dizzying whirlwind.

  If she is not writing, she is in a meeting or on the phone or attending another casting session where she tries not to unceremoniously gawk at the celebrities. The visions, visits from Patrick, and other odd episodes become a thing of the past. She rarely, if ever, thinks on them. The break is a breath of fresh air. It is a distant, unseemly memory that she would rather put as far behind her as she possibly can.

  Chloe is thrilled with the fact that the directors want her to work and collaborate as closely with them as possible in order to capture the original feel of the script. That being said, she is expected to be present during filming which means she will spend the next few months on location. She is excited to meet the cast and even more excited to see her product come to life on the silver screen.

  •

  Today, James has an interview with a contracting company. If all goes well, he could land an internship to shadow some of the accomplished architects before he takes on a few projects of his own. Maybe one day he will be able to start his own agency and manage his own pool of contractors.

  Above all else, he wants to make Chloe proud. He wants to make his mother proud too, but Chloe takes precedence, just as she always has.

  "So, Mr. James Jones," Hank Miller says from the other side of his mahogany desk. "Novelty name."

  James knows he is being facetious and probably trying to bait him into a retort, so he remains silent. They are both dressed in business suits with pressed slacks. Hank is a large, meaty man with big bushy eyebrows and a shining bald head. James swallows the urge to chuckle at the way his mustache obscures his lips, bent into a permanent blond frown, and again when he sniffs and wiggles his nose to stifle a sneeze.

  Miller looks over his application diligently. "Any relevant schooling?" he grumbles gruffly.

  Relevant schooling. James would love to thrill him with tales of his Lego days in kindergarten. "Bachelor’s in Architecture, sir." The man’s brows jump halfway up his forehead, exposing two sky blue eyes. James swears he is about to say something, but his only response is a low hmmm and then he resumes scouring through his credentials.

  "And what inspired you to apply here at Vector Industries?" Miller inquires lowly.

  "Well sir, yours is a very prominent corporation. I know a lot of folks who appreciate the care and craftsmanship that goes into your designs. I want to be a part of that tradition and help bring new, innovative ideas to the table." James smiles. Miller blinks his beady blues. The answer sounds rehearsed, but that is only because it is. He practiced for hours, preparing for a slew of questions. He wants this job.

  Badly.

  The man responds with a dutiful nod and another rough hmmm from his throat. Laconic. Intimidating. Efficient. James can tell he is a good boss who takes no bull.

  Miller moves onto his portfolio, his broad hands combing through the pages with gentility that belies their size. His frown deepens. He begins to glance between James and the carefully selected samples. He closes the binder brusquely.

  “One more thing,” Miller says. James fears he is in for a huge letdown until the man says, “… Why aren’t you employed yet?”

  •

  A few weeks later, Chloe is in a helicopter, being flown to a remote location in the southwest. When production begins, she can hardly contain her enthusiasm. Every one of her ideas is given due consideration and respect. Chloe has never felt so appreciated, so highly revered, except for maybe during her time with James.

  Every day, Chloe sits with the director behind the camera as he gives instructions to his actors and crew. He pauses between takes and transitions for scenes to garner her thoughts. At first, Chloe is reluctant to give her opinion. But as the days pass, she becomes much more comfortable with the cast and crew members.

  The story of Jesus’ birth to the day of his death and resurrection is thirty three years in the making. Chloe figures it is best to start at the beginning.

  As decreed by Caesar, whom ruled over most of the ancient world in that time, all people were to return to the city of their birth to register for the census. The census was a list of people and property claimed by each person. It legitimized one’s identity.

  In those days, the census was the only way to claim citizenship and maintain rights and social respect. If one did not register, he could be thrust into slavery or denied access to privileges reserved for citizens. It was important to go, which was why Mary and Joseph had to make the journey to Bethlehem, regardless of the fact that Mary was with child.

  The circumstances surrounding the baby in Mary’s belly were more than scandalous. Mary and Joseph were betrothed, but not yet married. In those days, a woman could be stoned to death for conceiving a baby out of wedlock. No one believed that Mary, a young teenage girl, was a virgin when she started showing symptoms. She was shunned and berated.

  Joseph, feeling betrayed and confused himself, agreed to marry her anyway. He still loved her in spite of the ugly circumstances. He, and everyone else, thought she was unfaithful to him. Only Mary knew the truth, in spite of sharing her miraculous testimony with her family who assumed she was lying to conceal her own mistakes.

  Before she was pregnant, an angel, a being haloed in white light and holy fire, visited her one night. He claimed that she was going to deliver a child. This puzzled Mary, as she had not yet known a man that way. The angel explained that the child would be divinely conceived and placed within her by God. He would be a king and the savior of all nations and she was to call him Jesus.

  He would be fully God and fully man—the Messiah destined to deliver the world from the filth of people’s wrongdoing, or sin.

  Joseph would not believe her until an angel came to him and delivered the same tidings. Only then did Joseph realize the significance of this event and his pre-ordained responsibility to keep Mary safe and raise the baby with her, as a family. Both Mary and Joseph endured great criticism and scorn from the people in their village.

  But now they had each other. And above all, they knew God was on their side too.

  Mary gave birth to Jesus in Bethlehem. Unfortunately, there were so many people in town to register for the census that they could find no where to stay. All the inns were full. An innkeeper, noticing Mary’s pregnant state, offered them a place in his stable. It was probably not a stable as we would think of it now, but more of a cave used to house animals. It probably smelled. It was probably filthy. No place for a king. But it was still shelter.

  The baby was born in this place, among livestock and feedstock. Jesus’ first crib was a manger, or less politely speaking, a feeding trough.

  Many strangers came to visit him, including shepherds and prominent men from the Far East, or Asia. They brought him rare and expensive gifts, calling him the Prince of Peace. Mary and Joseph were overwhelmed, as any parent would be, to be charged with the duty of safeguarding and raising the son of God.

  As time passed, mother and father became keenly aware that their son was not like other children. He had an innate sense, coupled with their own teachings, of what was right and wrong and good and bad. Jesus never sinned, not even in its smallest measurement. His words were kind and his thoughts were pure. His actions were flawless and free of any fault.

  More than once, Mary found Jesus conversing with priests—holy men and members of the temple—regarding the scriptures. His knowledge of God’s love was so profound and firmly engrained in him that none could contest it.

  He amazed many. And he would amaze many more.

  Joseph was a carpenter, meaning he worked with wood and made things like tables, stools, and chests. Naturally, Jesus grew in an apprenticeship to that craft. But his true talents were in teaching the scriptures and evangelism.

  By his early thirties, Jesus
had developed quite a following. He traveled the lands, proclaiming the sovereignty of God to any and all, dining with the dirty and downtrodden, and befriending the most unlikely people. Changing hearts. Performing miracles in God’s name. Impossible things, wondrous things. Giving blind men sight and the lame the ability to walk. Curing sickness and, on two accounts, raising people from the dead.

  During this time, he garnered twelve devoted followers who became known as his disciples. These men would play a critical role in the future of the Christian faith and its spread throughout the Roman Empire and outside world. Jesus was converting people by the thousands with each sermon. So many loved and adored him. Naturally, this made many of the holy priests very jealous.

  These priests, known as Pharisees, were obsessed with the law, and the mechanics of Christianity, rather than the blind faith in God and His wisdom. They did not believe Jesus was the Messiah or the son of God. In fact, they called him a blasphemer—A liar. A tainted, wicked man who was leading good people away from the Lord. His teachings were unacceptable and a blatant challenge to their power.

  In their haste to snuff out this flame that was quickly becoming an inferno, they hatched a plan to stop him once and for all. They started sending soldiers to hunt for Jesus and make an example of his followers. Great and terrible persecution of the Christians followed.

  No time could have been more convenient for Judas, one of the twelve disciples, to betray his master and teacher. He went to the priests and told them Jesus’ location, selling out the eternal king for a meager thirty pieces of silver. The soldiers came, arrested Jesus, and took him away for trial as a heretic.

  In that time, the law was upheld by the Romans. So, naturally, the priests took Jesus before their Roman governor—Pontius Pilate—on grounds of breaking the law and creating unrest among the people. Pilate, however, found no fault in Jesus. Which made sense, being that he had done nothing wrong. He decreed that Jesus be taken to King Herod for sentencing instead. By the same token, the eccentric and glutinous Herod found no fault in him either. This infuriated the Pharisees.