Looking for Garbo

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Looking for Garbo Page 18

by Jon James Miller


  “I have to ask.” I took my first tentative step since having passed out at her feet, shivered as I got my footing. “Why did you sleep with me?”

  Garbo turned from the porthole. She crossed her arms in front of her bosom and scrutinized me. She was so calm and collected—the illusion fully restored—that I had the false sense I was living a dream again. Then she raised two fingers to her lips.

  “Have you a cigarette?” she asked.

  I patted my breast pocket and found that I had. A pack courtesy of dear old Nick down in the gallows. I produced one for Garbo and searched Nick’s pockets for a match. I pulled a book of them out of his borrowed trouser pocket. They were from the Athenia’s Grand Salon. A raised image of the ship embossed in gold leaf on the matchbook’s cover. I did up the honors. Lit the end of Garbo’s cigarette held between those famous pouty lips. She inhaled deeply. The ember end of the cigarette burned brightly as I waved out the match.

  “Thank you,” she said and exhaled. “At first, it was Ingrid’s idea.”

  I recoiled with shock. Garbo smoked tentatively and watched my reaction. Then a muted noise from outside the ship diverted her attention. She turned to look out the porthole and became animated.

  “They’re boarding,” she said. “Please, hurry.”

  I had intended to leave. I really had. But my feet stuck in place. Try as I might, I just couldn’t leave without knowing.

  “But why?” I said.

  Though I already felt like yesterday’s news, I couldn’t let the issue be. What was I to her? To Garbo. The compulsion to know was beyond my control.

  “Please,” I begged. “I’ve got to know.”

  Garbo came charging from around the bed. I thought for a second she was going to clock me. Instead, she put out her cigarette in an ashtray adjacent to the night table. I swiveled to face her in time to see her open the night table drawer and produce the same handgun she had used to pepper my face with splinters. A warning shot I would not get again.

  “If I tell you,” she said, “will you go?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Sure, I’ll go.”

  Garbo turned to me. She pursed her lips and closed her eyes. Another sound came from outside the porthole. Then she opened her peepers and glared at me. I braced myself for impact.

  “The Nazis,” she said. “They’ve been suspicious of me.”

  “Suspicious?” I repeated, thick-headed as ever.

  Garbo grimaced. She put her gun in her purse and snapped the latch shut, threw it on the bed. Then she reached up and grabbed me by my arms, turned me toward the door.

  “Men,” Garbo said. “I needed to show I enjoyed their company.”

  Whoa. The night we had spent together. Our mystical transcendental union, had all been for show? I’d been a sexual shill. Put out to stud for the almighty mission. A flimflam orchestrated by Ingrid for the sake of Nazi stooges waiting in the wings. And I’d bought it hook, line and sinker.

  “So,” I said, hurt like a love-stricken puppy dog. “Our night together … it was all for show?”

  “What does it matter now?”

  I swung around to face Garbo. She backed away from me as if I’d gone bonkers. Yet not quick enough to evade me. I grabbed the Goddess in my arms. Pulled her to me and planted a kiss on those beautiful lips before she even knew what was happening. Then I pulled away and looked directly into her eyes.

  “I love you,” I said. “I’ve loved you ever since I laid eyes on you, the very first time, back in Los Angeles.”

  I looked into her eyes and for a second the flame in them wavered, like a wind had passed over them. Garbo pursed those full, red lips again. Lowered her chin and cast down her true blues. Just like she had the first time I’d seen her. Not that she’d remember, even though I had every reason in the world to.

  “Love fades,” she said her magnificent eyelashes fanning downward in slow motion.

  “Not mine,” I said.

  Garbo lifted her chin and opened her eyes wide open. Her expression registered surprise. Then a tiny smile came to her lips. We kissed again. This time she was right there with me. My face no longer hurt. As if her lips had the power to heal, I felt like a brand-new man. A man willing to do anything to keep her safe and out of harm’s way.

  We embraced, and I felt Garbo’s body melt into mine. Her strong, lean physique against me made me weak all over again. I put my chin on her shoulder and stared at her cupid lamp with a dumb grin spread from ear to ear across my face. He smiled back at me, as if to say “I told you so.” Score another victory for the little guy. For love.

  Then Ingrid’s face, her beautiful, beaten face flashed in front of my eyes. In front of Cupid.

  “Love was listening,” Ingrid had whispered.

  I pushed Garbo back. She looked up at me, tears in her uncomprehending eyes.

  “What, Seth?” she said.

  I put my index finger up to her luscious lips to shush her. Then I went around her to the night table. I reached down and grabbed the lamp. Lifted Cupid up to eye-level and scrutinized him. He stared back at me with that stupid, shellacked smile plastered on his fat face.

  “Love is listening,” I said aloud, then with both hands, smashed the lamp down on the night table. He broke into several large pieces. I inspected Cupid’s insides as Garbo came to my side. Found a foreign object glued to the inside of his chest. A metal object with numerous holes bore into its surface, wires leading out of it down into the central electrical cord. I yanked and snapped the wires.

  “What is it?” Garbo whispered as I held the thing up.

  “An electronic listening device,” I said and pocketed the thingamajig. “They’ve been listening to our conversation all along. I’ve got to get you out of here.”

  We got to the door, and no sooner had I opened it than Heinrich was there, filling up the damaged door frame. Garbo stared up into the mug of the swollen, broken-nosed brute. I could tell she was startled by the sight. No doubt taken aback by the man’s sheer massiveness. Garbo had been absent when Big Monkey and me mixed it up in her digs the first time round. Now my stomach soured at the thought of an encore performance of King Kong beats up the chump.

  “Heinrich.” I said. He smiled back at me as if we were old friends. Heinrich reached out for me, but I evaded his grasp. Before King Kong had me back in his hairy mitts, before I was dragged away kicking and screaming, I was going to cast a spell of my own for once. I improvised, reared back then threw a punch at Heinrich’s head. Caught him square in his twisted snout.

  Heinrich yelped, reached up with both hands to his honker and winced in pain. I pushed the brute out of the way, grabbed Garbo by the hand and made for the hallway.

  Then a huge hand grabbed me from behind. Pulled me by the neck and yanked me forcefully away from her. Only when Heinrich plucked me from Garbo’s grasp did I realize how hard she’d been holding onto me. Had held me tight in her embrace like only a true lover would. With all her might.

  But it was not enough. Garbo held her arms out to me as Heinrich manhandled me back down the hallway. Whatever they did to me didn’t matter now. I lived only to try and save the woman I loved. The woman I had inadvertently put in harm’s way, before piecing together what poor Ingrid had tried to warn me about. About love listening.

  The Athenia was rigged. Ingrid knew the entire ship was riddled with eavesdropping devices. Knew Cupid had ears in Garbo’s suite. Now I had to assume whoever was pulling the strings knew everything about me, Garbo, and Ingrid. Had heard every conversation, every last word. Every tender whisper between lovers. There were no more secrets.

  Garbo’s plan to kill Hitler was out in the open. Thanks to me, she was in more danger than ever before. But instead of fear, I felt an energy of purpose re-enter my life and limbs. I knew what I had to do, even though it sounded insane. I had to do the impossible, while there was still time.

  21. SPELLBOUND JAMES

  “Well?” Sarah asked, her eyes riveted on Seth’s face.
/>   “Well what?” Seth loved the attention the raven-haired nurse gave him. So did I. Who the hell wouldn’t?

  “You purposely left out the most important part,” she said, her tone of voice full of feigned annoyance. She turned to enlist me in making her point.

  I kept my gaze squarely on Seth. I didn’t want to give myself away as I already felt I was oozing puppy love through my pores. Plus, I was too busy enjoying the electricity our touching forearms was generating throughout my entire body. My nerve endings were on fire. My upper lip wet with perspiration from the contact high.

  “Garbo,” Sarah said, turning back to Seth. “When you kissed her, did she kiss you back?”

  Excellent question. When a kiss was all you had, was it enough to go on? Had to be, right? One kiss had made me fall for Sarah. One kiss could tell an entire tale all on its own.

  “Kiss and tell?” Seth smiled at Sarah. “I figured you’d be opposed to such rude behavior?”

  I scrutinized Seth, propped up in his bed on a wedge of fluffy pillows. He was winded and in pain, but his eyes were alert and animated as he gazed upon Sarah. He knew a good thing when he saw it. Thank God he’d forced me to open my eyes, too. Before it was too late.

  When Sarah had arrived in the room, in the middle of Seth’s latest chapter, she’d checked my pulse, listened to my heart, and taken my blood pressure and temperature. I felt shaky from her touch and shaken from hearing Seth’s whale of a tale. Then Sarah had dropped the bombshell—I’d been given my walking papers. I was being discharged from the hospital, and in a couple of hours, my status would change from patient to visitor. But I pitied the fool who tried to separate me from my newfound friends. Not after I had just met them. Not after I’d just fallen for Sarah.

  It was true that Sarah and I didn’t even know each other. I didn’t even know her last name. Had only just made love the night before. Met the first time the day before that. But I was sure what I felt was the genuine article. I’d been infected, for certain. For the very first time, I had a textbook case of being bitten by the love bug.

  Now off-duty, Sarah sat vigil with me, listening to Seth’s story. He was up to his old tricks, toying with us. Not giving anything away. The fucking guy was on his deathbed and still enforced a quid pro quo. I had to admire that, even though I dreaded where he was going next. Sarah shifted in her seat, breaking our physical connection. Immediately I felt my body begin to cool.

  “Excuse me,” a female voice said from the doorway. We all looked over in unison to an older nurse poking her head into the room. “Mr. Main, you’ve got a visitor in the lobby.”

  Thank god I had remembered Video Guy had given me his card the last time we saw each other, back in the snow storm where Martin abandoned me. God, that seemed like such a long time ago. Now the card that I’d fished out of my pants pocket was the ace up my sleeve. And I had bet my future on his help.

  “Thank you,” I said, and the nurse was gone. I looked at Sarah and Seth. Both gazed at me expectantly. Walking out on the most important part of a conversation wasn’t my idea of fun. Especially, when I was a featured attraction.

  “Hurry,” Sarah said and nodded toward the door. “Conduct your business, Mr. Main. Seth and I’ll be fine ’til you get back.”

  “No way,” I said, “am I leaving you two alone.”

  “Why?” Seth said and added some teeth to his smile. “Don’t you trust us?”

  I bit my lower lip. Seth knew how to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of watching me squirm. But I had a schedule to keep. He knew I had someplace to be.

  “Of course, James trusts us,” Sarah said, leaned in and planted a peck on my cheek. A lightning bolt traveled through my wires. I blushed then blushed again at Seth’s approving look. That hospital room could be such a fucking tough room sometimes. Tough and wonderful.

  I got up from the bed and walked toward the door. I wanted to turn back and ask some innocuous question just to forestall my departure. I used to do the same thing to my mother when bedtime came in the middle of an exceptionally good episode of Who’s The Boss. Took a pair of pliers and screwed the toothpaste cap on real tight. Steal another ten minutes of Alyssa Milano while my mom pried it off. She knew I had a little thing for Alyssa, but she never said a word.

  “Go,” Sarah said before I could even turn my head. Just the way Mom had. Tough room, for sure.

  I walked down the hallway toward the lobby, quickly passing Martin’s room. He was either too busy masturbating, on the phone, or both to notice me. Thank goodness. I wanted to keep our contact to a minimum until I had everything I needed squared away.

  I hurried into the little hospital lobby, scanned the waiting area, and found my gentle giant. When I’d called him earlier that morning, it was obvious he was surprised to hear from me. Especially when I told him where I was. And that I needed him to come to the hospital as fast as he could and bring his equipment.

  “What the hell happened to you?” he said as he got up from his chair and stared me up and down. I didn’t realize how bad I looked until I saw Video Guy’s face as he took in my pale blue hospital gown decorated with yellow baby ducks.

  I recounted the highlights of my life since I’d seen him last. Skipped over some of the uglier (and more personal) details and cut to the third-act climax of Seth and me landing up in the same hospital room.

  “So, the reason I called you,” I started, then decided to lower my voice.

  Video Guy leaned in, but still stayed far enough away to not catch the lunacy-inducing whatever-the-fuck disease I had obviously contracted. He cocked an ear from a respectful distance.

  “Listen, the reason I called you,” I started again in a whisper, “is that I need you to finish shooting Seth’s story. Without Martin knowing.”

  “Your asshole boss?”

  “Asshole ex-boss,”

  Then I remembered I’d forgotten to mention Martin was in the hospital too, only three doors down from Seth and my room. Video Guy’s face showed surprise as I connected the dots for him.

  “Okay,” he said, obviously game for my subterfuge. “So how do you wanna go about this thing?”

  “You can pass your stuff into me through our window,” I said. I explained how Martin seeing him walking down the main corridor with his camera equipment would probably be a dead giveaway. “Then I’ll help you crawl in. Sound good?”

  “Okay. But how will I know which window is yours?”

  I put a grateful hand up to his shoulder and felt a breeze on my backside. I smiled. Video Guy was willing to help me cover my ass on this one. The one time it really counted. In return, I’d make certain I never turned my back on the big guy like Martin had turned his back on me. Especially when my butt was still hanging out for everyone and their brother to see.

  “There’s a broken picnic table just outside our window,” I said. “Trust me, you can’t miss it.”

  Sarah had agreed to do whatever it took to help Seth and me. In return, I wanted to bring it into the end zone and do a little victory dance. But most of all, I wanted to make a connection. I’d always felt on the outside of society. Watched while other people got together and made things happen for themselves and for each other. Now I was in the thick of things, thriving for the first time I could ever remember. And it felt good.

  I’d asked Seth to bequeath his life rights to Sarah on camera. Remove any cloud on the chain of title to his Garbo story. That was a fancy way of saying Martin couldn’t steal the story and not give me my co-producer credit. She had no role in our production and possessing soul rights to Seth’s story would finally make Martin negotiate in good faith. I’d forced his hand with the one ol’ Seth had left behind for me.

  When I went back to my room, I stood just outside the doorway for a minute and watched Sarah and Seth talking. Couldn’t hear what was being said but I didn’t care. I was too caught up in watching them together. Watching her profile while she laughed at something he said. Watched the old man bask in her glow e
ven as he himself was fading.

  The same starburst special effect went off in my head every time I saw Sarah. My eyes tracked her the same way they had fireflies, when I had chased them as a kid on a dark, hot summer night. So earnest to grab a hold of the light, I’d fallen down an embankment, sprained my ankle and freaked my mother out. Unless I wanted to do that again, I’d have to find a way to keep my eye on Sarah and where I was going at the same time.

  I knocked on my own hospital room door, announced my entrance. Sarah turned to me and smiled, then rose from my bed. Seth was smiling too, though he wasn’t about to get up.

  “Everything okay?” she said.

  “Yup.” I looked at both of them, mums-the-word expressions all around. “How about in here?”

  “We’re good,” she said. “Guess it’s my turn now.”

  Sarah was referring to the part of the plan where she went to Martin’s room and distracted him while Video Guy waded through the frozen ocean of snow to our room. Odds were good Martin would never look out the window anyway. But I wasn’t taking any chances now. Except for exposing Sarah to LA’s number one menace when it came to a young woman’s virtue. But I was confident she could hold her own.

  Still, I was having second thoughts when Sarah motioned toward the door. I gently caught her arm by the elbow and stopped her. I needed her to know that what she was about to do was voluntary. Voluntary and disagreeable, though greatly appreciated.

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want.” I gave her my best stern stare. “If we get caught—”

  I already knew from my days back in L.A. that camera equipment entering a hospital was against HIPPA regulations. But when I told Sarah of my plan to shoot the rest of Seth’s story, she’d agreed to help, without hesitation. She was going out on a big limb for me. A limb that could break off at any moment and land us both in hot water.

  Sarah brought two fingers up to my lips. On contact, her fingertips sent a thunderbolt of adrenaline through my body. How did she do that? Sweet Sarah the Spellcaster. I was at her mercy.

 

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