by Smith, Skye
"Watch the movie. It's all on film."
"Good answer. I suppose they will rip these replacements off you, too. How can they say it isn't porn? Changing rooms are to the right. You can check your own clothes with me if you want."
She checked her own blouse and skirt but kept her new trench coat. It made her look sophisticated, despite the tired cliché it covered. She had no sooner stepped into the soundstage than Wendy grabbed her by the arm.
"They aren't going for it," Wendy said urgently, harshly. "You are in big trouble on this set, girl."
Her heart sank, then it rose again. Karen. She had points in this film. "Where is Karen Marshall right now?"
"Where you should be. The mock cave. You're in the same scene."
"And who's making trouble?"
"Head of personnel. He doesn't work for the company, of course. The company outsourced the back office last year. He knows nothing about the film business. He's just a clerk costing the company more than he's worth. Outsourcing never works. If outsourcing worked, why don't the outsourcing companies outsource?"
Maya walked away towards the set. What was Wendy on about? Outsource, what was that, some business buzz word? "Karen!" she called.
"Maya, come with me to my motorhome and grab some breakfast." She caught Maya by the arm and whispered, "I want more. When can I meditate with you again?"
"Maybe never," she whispered back. "I'll explain when we are somewhere private."
Karen had to shoo her assistant away to gain privacy. Maya looked down at the breakfast table and lost her appetite. It was coffee and Melba toast. She needed some Honey Nut Oatios. Eventually, she loaded some melba toast with butter and started munching.
Karen didn't eat and just sipped her coffee. "So why can't we meditate together again?"
"I am about to be ejected from the set."
"What did you do? Kill someone?"
Maya only just stopped herself from jumping guiltily. No one had mentioned a body on the trail from the day before. She gathered herself and went on, "I am an American. I don't have a work permit. Me working on this set is against the law."
"So, get a work permit."
"Some clerk in personnel says no. He wants me ejected from the set, and to destroy all the scenes I am in."
"Bull shit. Hasn't he seen the rushes from our wasp adventure? It's the most innocent and yet most horny scene shot so far. You're kidding, right?"
"I was told that my vampire scene would add a million to the box. That would have been a hundred thou in your pocket."
Karen picked up the phone and got the switchboard. "This is Karen. Find Warren for me and find him fast.
Ugh, Warren , you know, the producer. Find him and have him call me at this number."
There was a knock on the door. "Five minutes"
"Don't move," said Karen. "There's no use until we know if you are in the scene or not. Let them come to us."
The phone rang. "Warren. That scene we watched this morning?
That's the one. Scrub it.
Nothing to do with me, dear. Personnel has fired the other girl."
She held the phone away from her ear. "I know. I know. I have points, too.
Well, the cameras can't start until we know if the girl is on or off.
Yes, another delay. I thought you should know.
Thanks, sweetie. Bye-bye."
She put the phone down. "Well, some pencilneck is about to be shoved head first through a pencil sharpener. I hope this means the company finally sees the light about bloody outsourcers. They talk big and deliver nothing but invoices. They have no idea what business we are in."
There was a knock and a voice at the door. "They're waiting on set. What should I tell them?"
"Coffee time!" Karen yelled back. She was pacing. Agitated.
"Lie on the couch and I will sooth you," offered Maya.
Karen did not need to be asked twice. They unbuttoned both their blouses and pulled both their skirts up to expose as much skin as possible. Maya clasped her hands as if she were praying and felt her aura wake up. She bathed Karen in her aura to make her feel good.
She knew from Karen's breathing that she was becoming sexually aroused. She lost herself in her aura and tried to sense any from Karen, even a seed of one. She pushed one of her hands up under Karen's skirt and let it hover over her lower belly. Karen started to moan erotically.
There was something different. Yesterday, she had sensed a dark gray above her womb, now it was a lighter gray. She concentrated, remembering what Mister Li had inferred, remembering what the monk had inferred. The aura should be moving out from her chest and through her arms and into her hands. It became white, milk white with tones of floral. It started to become brilliant, and then she remembered the last time it had been brilliant. When she had murdered the man with the electronic collar.
Omigod, what was she doing? She fought her aura to regain consciousness. She pulled her hand back from Karen and grabbed her elbows. She pulled her aura back from brilliance. She felt herself passing out. She started to slump forward and she rested her head on Karen's belly to keep her balance.
"Oh, excuse me. I should have knocked," said a voice behind her. She twisted her neck to look around. It was Mike, the assistant director. She raised her head and looked at Karen, who thankfully was still alive. Very alive. Orgasmically alive. And then she thought of the look on Mike's face as he so quickly shut the door. Bugger. That would take some explaining, if he gave her a chance. She reached over and locked the door. Foolish not to have done it in the first place.
"Karen" she whispered softly, "Karen, wake up." Karen's eyes opened wide but she was not quite there. "I'm sorry. I used too much power. I think I overdid it. Are you all right?"
"Uh, yeah," the actress said slowly, "give me a moment". She felt down below. "Uh, I have to go clean up. You stay here. Don't answer the door or the phone until I come back."
Maya sat at the table and sipped some insipid tea made the American way without briskly boiling water. She much preferred the Canadian way. It tasted different. Not so weak and tasteless. Strong enough that you needed milk. Her mind was rabbiting on about milky tea, who cares? What had she just done? Why had she done it? It was so risky.
Karen came back looking stunned. "My period just started."
"That's too bad," commiserated Maya, "middle of filming and all. Do you need anything? Should I call wardrobe or someone?"
"No, you don't understand, I haven't had a period since my abortion in Texas." She looked at Maya and her eyes grew wide. "You did this. That wasn't an orgasm, was it? It was something else that felt like an orgasm."
"I'm so sorry. I am still feeling my way with this stuff. There's, like, no one to teach me. Oh, please forgive me!" Maya felt the tears welling up inside her, and wondered just what else could go wrong today.
"Forgive you, forgive you? I have to get this checked out." She grabbed the phone and looked back at Maya. There were tears trickling down the girl's cheeks. She put the phone down again and went over and took her into her arms. "You really don't understand, do you? If this really is a period, and not something else, then maybe I can ovulate. Don't you get it? I may be able to get pregnant."
"I'm so sorry," blubbed Maya, "I know it's a curse. I hate the pill. I hate my cycles. Sometimes I wish I was a man, like, just to be free of them."
Karen held her. Maya was so cold she was shivering, shaking. She lay her down on the couch and covered her with her coat. "Now it's your turn to lay down. Just relax while I make some calls." Karen picked up the phone again.
"Switchboard, this is Karen Marshall. Please connect me to a Dr. Shapiro in Beverly Hills. He is in the Century building, second floor.
Ok, I'll wait by this phone. Tell his receptionist it's urgent."
"I thought switchboards went the way of the dodo," Maya commented, hiccupping slightly.
"It's actually a privacy service. They filter all incoming calls, and do the work of connecting me to an
yone in the world."
"But you have a personal assistant."
"Yeah, but she is hired by the company to help while I am on the set. Do you know how many incoming calls and texts my service filters for me? Try hundreds a day. Most of them strangers. My assistant only filters people I know."
The phone rang, and Karen jumped at it. "Karen Marshall,
Oh hi Warren. What?
Well, authorize payment. Small potatoes.
I agree.
Okay. she is here with me now. I'll tell her. Ciao."
Karen sat down beside Maya. "Okay, you are no longer an employee of the Canadian subsidiary, you are now directly under the parent company in the US. They are hiring a lawyer in someplace called Blaine to do the paper work."
"Blaine is the first town in Washington state over the border," Maya said weakly. She felt exhausted and it wasn't even nine in the morning yet.
"Well, that makes sense. You are to go down to Blaine, sign the papers, and then bring them with you over the border and declare to Canadian immigration that your company has arranged for a work permit for you. Then show them your papers. They will stamp your passport, and you are in."
"So, do I have to do that all today?"
"Of course not, we have a film to make. Besides, the lawyer won't have all the papers together for about a week. What you must do today is go upstairs to personnel and give them your full name, US home address, and US Social Security number, and a bunch of other stuff. They will also give you a two thousand dollar check to complete your original work for the subsidiary as an extra. That was necessary due to our liability insurance policy."
"What you are telling me," Maya sat up, "is that I can now make this film legally, but by the time I am actually legal, the shooting will be over?"
The phone rang and Karen motioned to her to 'hold that thought.' "Karen Marshall.
Yes. Put me through.
Yes. Doctor, of course.
Sam. Listen, the most amazing thing has just happened to me. I just had my first period since I was seventeen.
I'll wait." She covered the phone and said, "He's reading my file."
She gave Maya an encouraging smile while she waited.
"Listen, about the work permit. It will only be for three months, and only for while you work for this company. There's another movie scheduled for next month. Get your agent onto it." She held up her hand and uncovered the mike.
"Yes, that was what I was always told.
But I am in the middle of a shoot.
Sunday? That important?
Oh. Okay, Sunday it is. At your office.
Okay, see you then." She looked long and hard at the phone.
"What? Oh, I'm sorry. It's none of my business," Maya excused herself.
"My doctor says it is possible but highly unlikely. Not after so many years. Things atrophy. He wants to fully check me out and make sure it isn't something else. You know. Internal bleeding from cancer or something."
She walked to the door and stuck her head outside and yelled for her assistant. Then she came back in and sipped her coffee. A head appeared in the doorway. "I have a doctor's appointment in LA Sunday at eleven in the morning. Please revise my schedule, yet again."
"Is anything wrong?" her assistant asked with true concern.
"Actually, everything may be very right, but it has to be checked out. Keep your fingers crossed." She saw Mike's head behind the assistant. "Mike, call the crew together. We are on our way. Crisis averted."
Maya pushed by the assistant and ran after Mike. She caught him and slipped her arm through his and walked beside him. "What you just saw back there with Karen and I was not what you think. Like, not even close."
"How do you know what I think?" Mike asked.
"She was having women's problems. I was showing her, like, a Yoga technique. We should have locked the door, but it started out as a simple technique, but when that worked, we went on to more specific ones."
"It's not important," he said softly.
"Well, it is to Karen and I, and we both care what you think." She let go of his arm and he kept walking.
Once he realized that she had let go, he immediately felt like he missed her. He stopped and turned around and offered her is arm. She took it. "So, it was not sexual?"
She lowered her voice because they were approaching the crew waiting to film. "Of course it was sexual. I told you it was women’s problems. But it was like, health-related."
* * *
* * *
MAYA'S AURA - the Refining by Skye Smith
Chapter 2 - In present day San Francisco
She had taken Karen's suggestion and wore her blouse and long flowing skirt overtop of a body suit, and had wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror. With the flowing Indian clothes and the shawl, she looked like a fortune teller. All she needed to complete the look was a scarf tied around her head and some plastic beads.
Up the stairs she bounded with tea and toast and cheese for Karen. She put it down beside her and then kneeled beside the bed and did a bit of meditation to bathe the expectant mother in a very soft aura. When she was finished, she crept out and down the stairs and out the front door.
She first checked the square where the demonstrators were still holding their vigil against corporate corruption. There were fewer demonstrators today, but more police. She doubled back to the coffee shop to see if Chuck was there. She found him sipping coffee with some of the guys.
"We figure this is the day," said Chuck. "There are a bunch of big police vans four blocks away. They are going to sweep in, arrest everyone, and cart them away."
"So what are you and your friends going to do?" she asked, looking around at the gay men around the table, all with camera equipment.
"We'll go down and stand on the sidelines and watch," said Chuck. "If there is any rough stuff, we'll start filming."
"Are you expecting rough stuff?" she asked. One of Chuck's friends had brought her a latte and she smiled and thanked him.
"From the demonstrators, no. This is a passive protest. They will just go limp and get arrested. They'll be finger-printed and held while their ID's are checked with the CIA, you know, in case they are raving terrorists. I doubt any will be held overnight." Chuck was checking his batteries. He had two cameras today. A large SLR and a small camcorder.
Maya waited with them and kept herself busy by reading the local paper. There was a huge colored photo of riot police pepper-spraying demonstrators in Egypt and a big letter caption that read, 'Egyptian police brutalize peaceful demonstrators."
A man in jeans and a denim jacket ran into the shop and called, "The cops are on the move!" Everyone jumped up, grabbed their cameras and headed towards the square. Maya hooked into Chuck's arm and went with him. With his limp they were dead last getting to the square.
The police now wore riot gear, like shields and protective armor and helmets. They were closing in on all sides. The demonstrators were just sitting on the ground waiting, and waving signs at the official press photographers.
Chuck led them up some steps and into a doorway. Even only three steps up, they had a much better view of what was going head. "Bastards," he said pointing to some men dressed like the students but all wearing ski masks. The police were letting them through their lines and into the square. "Agent provocateurs. They are going to break some windows and light some fires to give the police the excuse to attack."
"So who are they?"
"We'll never know, will we? Probably undercover cops. It would fit into their approved job descriptions."
"But that's not fair!" she exclaimed, "this has been a peaceful demonstration for days and days."
"We were expecting it. Look, see, they are being filmed." He put his camcorder to his eye and zoomed in on one of the ski-masked men talking to a police sergeant. "Looks like they've got their orders."
Sure enough, the ski-masked men started throwing rocks and pushing over mailboxes. They tip
ped over newsstands and set fire to the papers. The police propelled some smoking canisters into the demonstrators and then started moving forward like a wall. They ignored the masked men, just walking by them without arresting them for the damage.
"This is stupid," said Maya. She freed herself from Chuck's arm and went running up to the edge of the police wall. They had surrounded their first prisoners. Two young girls in sun dresses, probably high school students on a lark with their university boyfriends.
Maya grabbed one of the newspapers spilled from a broken newsstand and went to a policeman who looked like he was in charge waving the paper and its headlines at him. "Don't do this. Look at this paper. Do you want this to be a picture from San Francisco tomorrow?" The officer stopped, grabbed the paper and read the headline and then turned away from her and gave some orders.
As Maya watched, two other officers held up two canisters that looked like fire extinguishers. The officer with her paper turned to her. "Get out of here," he said, "unless you want to join those girls being pepper-sprayed."
Pepper-spray. The words hit Maya's mind like electricity. They were going to pepper-spray the girls. "No, you can't do that!" she yelled out, "they are in sundresses! They have too much unprotected skin! No, stop. NOOOOO!!" she screamed. It was too late. The two girls were being coated, not sprayed, but coated in pepper-spray. They were writhing in agony, trying to protect their faces.
She heard one of the police laugh and yell to his buddy, "See that? I almost blew her dress off with it. Right up her crotch." The one with Maya's newspaper had to shake the men to make them stop wasting the spray. He looked around and saw the cameras. He gave an order.
Maya heard him repeat the order when he turned to another group of police. "Smash those cameras." She began to run away. She ran as fast as she could with her skirt held high and her feet leaping across the rubble left by the ski-mask men. The picture of the two girls writhing was still in her mind. She did not want to join them in such endless pain.
She reached Chuck moments before the police. She climbed the steps and stood facing him. "They are after the cameras." She grabbed the small camcorder from him and shoved it under her skirt and held it between her thighs. Just in time. Two police were yelling at them to hand over the cameras.