by Chana Keefer
“Will I find what I seek?”
Does it exist?
I strive to grasp the phantom
Once more I missed…
Was it just clever words to complete a melody? I studied his face, such an inspiration and fantasy to me for most of my formative years. Sky reached out a hand and waved it through the flame as he continued with the chorus.
What’s it like to be Soulfull?
Satisfied?
Does anybody live there?
Hands fall to my side
They don’t know either
I’ll look elsewhere….
I didn’t know what it felt like to be empty inside. My parents had read Bible stories to us every night before we went to sleep and my earliest lisped ambition was not to be a nurse or teacher like other girls, but to be Moses, the one who got to go up on the mountain, all alone, and talk to God. I’d never been to a mountaintop but I felt close to God nonetheless and talked to Him about everything. Hurt and disappointment still happened, but I didn’t feel alone.
How did Sky feel about God? I was struck with guilt that my thoughts about him were all about me; how his music soothed, how my heart stopped in his presence, how sad I’d be when he was once more out of reach. The fact he might have needs or hurts had never entered my mind. Plus, surely the connection I felt with him through his music meant we were kindred spirits in other areas of life, too, right?
But Sky had what everyone wanted. Shouldn’t it follow that he was happy?
An unbidden parade of the young, beautiful, rich, and famous flitted through my mind. Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, Elvis, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix... The list grew longer along with a nagging fear.
But Sky was too smart to follow them. Right?
I looked again, past the thrill, past the music, past the swaying crowd. It took a concerted effort. He was a stunning picture with the fresh silk shirt aglow as if from the golden rays of a setting sun.
When I was a fourteen-year-old, struggling with frizzy hair and a tin grin, I heard the news of his romance and quick marriage to the Norwegian supermodel, Karina. She was an exotic beauty. I had been jealous of her with every fiber of my adolescent being and had secretly rejoiced when, two years later, the marriage had ended. Even then I hadn’t given much thought to the possibility of Sky having pain in his life. I was just glad she was removed as a stumbling block to my adolescent daydreams.
Sky’s face and body performed, pleasing the paying crowd, but what was it about the eyes? Where had I seen that look before?
Oh yeah: Disneyland. When I was five years old, after living every kid’s dream of too much candy and too many rides, I earned a spanking. As Mom splashed water on my red, tear-splotched face, I’d glimpsed in the mirror an empty-eyed girl with lop-sided pigtails staring back. Getting everything I wanted had made me miserable.
I was yanked back to the present as Sky leaned forward to blow out the candle. All went dark and silent a moment before the arena erupted with applause. The spotlights came back on for the band to wave and take a bow with Sky. Then they filed off the stage together.
The shock of overhead lights broke the spell and poof it was over. Sky was gone.
Marti ran toward me as soon as I stepped off the stage. “I cannot believe I am best friends with the girl who danced on stage with Sky,” she exclaimed. “That was absolutely the most romantic thing I have ever seen!” Marti always spoke with lots of italics, but now she pulled out all the stops. Finally, she paused to take a much-needed breath and gave me a quizzical look. “How can you be so calm? I would be absolutely dyin’!”
Luckily, she didn’t require an answer.
“So what do we do now?” Marti asked as we looked around at the milling crowd heading for the exits or talking with friends. A small group queued up to one side waiting for their summons backstage. I was receiving a few curious stares from those who must have connected me with the mysterious dancing girl. It could just as well have been wonder at my being so over-dressed at a venue where jeans were the norm. Jeans sounded extremely good at the moment. I wasn’t used to clothing that made breathing difficult and the high heels bit at my toes.
I plopped down on the stairs to remove the instruments of torture and massage my aching toes just as Wally’s voice broke through.
“Here you are.” He appeared more relaxed than I had seen him all night. “Jeremiah is asking for you.”
I made the introduction between Wally and Marti, she complimented his dancing, he kissed her hand, tucked it in his arm and they chatted like old friends all the way to the green room where Jeremiah showed off his new captive-in-a-jar—a long-legged spider. Marti let out a beautiful scream when she saw it and the normal order of things was restored. She was teasing, flirtatious and glib while I was amazed by her gift of charm. When Adam came into the room flashing his pirate’s smile, the two of them hit it off with a bang. Soon they lounged on the couch and perused pictures of his family, “Lucky boy! He inherited my good looks!”
And when Jake slid onto the couch beside Marti, Adam quipped, “Go away! I saw her first!”
She was a modern Scarlett O’Hara surrounded by attentive beaus. Some people just had it.
Wally came to my side. “Sky is stuck in the press room at the moment but will be free in a half hour. He hoped you could remain ‘til then.”
He rose to go, “Now, into the lion’s den,” he grumbled.
As soon as he left, my thoughts crashed in. I was excited and fearful and way out of my league. Marti could handle something like this, but not me. Forget the food. I needed air.
I abandoned my shoes and stepped into the hall but the passage was blocked. A crowd spilled into the walkway—notepads, cameras, and microphones held high, pushing and jostling like a swarm of piranhas in a feeding frenzy.
I moved closer and stood on tiptoe. Sky, with a fixed, fake smile, stood , withain the middle of the press (was that where they got the term?) while Chloe and a couple burly bodyguards attempted to provide a barrier for Sky as he posed, signed autographs, shook hands, and handed out pieces of himself on all sides.
He glanced up and I raised a hand in greeting. He smiled, just a brief acknowledgement, but one of the reporters noticed.
“Hey, you’re the chick who danced with him. What’s your name?”
The question caught me off-guard. “Esther… Esther Collins,” I stammered as a bright flash blinded me, followed by another then some pushy guy with spiky hair shouted in my face and a heavy foot stepped on my toes.
Wally’s voice rose above the din, “Guys, guys! She’s just a girl pulled from the crowd.”
I looked again toward Sky who had turned away and was laughing with another reporter. I did, however, intercept his glance toward one of the bodyguards who reached for my arm.
I was maneuvered through the wall of bodies that had materialized behind me. Only spiky-haired guy stuck by me, firing another question, something about my age, but a huge hand attached to a beefy arm reached across, halting spiky-guy’s forward movement.
He looked up at the hand’s owner and smiled. “Yo, Mr. T. No harm, no foul.” With that, he raised his hands in surrender and took a step back.
I was walking blind, hurt by Sky’s dismissal, feeling stupid for causing a scene and bewildered by the mob as we went down the hall and around a corner.
I finally looked up at the massive person beside me. He was the embodiment of the guy you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley—shaved head, tattoos decorating every inch of skin not covered by his suit of mobster black. Only the tie of neon purple on his broad chest broke the hit-man mold. If you can’t run from a guy like that, you make friends.
“Nice tie,” I said.
His face broke into a wide smile and a voice about two octaves higher than the growl I had expected said, “Why thank you!”
“I’m Esther.”
“I know. I’m Lex.”
“Where are we going?”
“Whe
rever you want.”
“Outside,” I replied readily.
“Will do,” he answered as running feet came up behind us.
“Wait for me!” Jeremiah said as he fell into step and struck up a conversation with Lex. They continued to chat as we dodged the busy crew loading the rumbling semi-trucks. So much for fresh air.
We progressed to the entrance Marti and I had entered a lifetime ago and Jeremiah discussed firearms and sports with Lex and the security guard who seemed downright friendly now that the weight of guilt no longer hung around my neck. I was glad Jeremiah was along to be chummy and talk about tough guy things since I was anything but conversational.
What had happened back there? Sky had acted like I didn’t exist. I hated that it hurt.
“Gotta go,” the hulky Lex informed after receiving instructions in his ear. “And your dad wants you inside.” He motioned for Jeremiah to follow.
It was sad and very final, although Jeremiah did make me feel a bit better by asking, “Why can’t you come with us?”
After a hug and a promise to attend their next Texas concert, Jeremiah headed back to his father. I schlumped out the door and into the shadows to gulp in the moist night air. Sitting, I swung my dirty feet off the loading dock. It was time to come back to reality. I’d collect an exuberant Marti and call it a night.
I peered up at the stars and the crescent moon. The huge clouds of a Texas thunderstorm were moving in. Good. They matched my mood.
A long, sleek limousine crept up to the curb by the exit. The seemingly deserted dock came to life as a camera-toting crowd materialized. I had the unsavory recollection of crows on road-kill when the metal door banged open to a small group of muscled bodyguards. I stood for a better view, catching a glimpse of Chloe’s glimmering hair and the tan of Sky’s shirt in the dim light as they rushed toward the limousine amid shouts and flashes.
The car door shut and the vehicle pulled away from the curb. I watched it creep through the emptying parking lot until it was two red points of light turning onto the busy street to be swallowed by traffic. The excitement was over. The mob grew as more people flocked toward the commotion but the security guard stepped away from his door-side post announcing “Nothin’ more ta see folks. Move along.”
I sat back down, disappointed and deflated but my pity party was cut short when a little brown car screeched through the parking lot, following the path of the limo. Wait a minute. I raced down the stairs. “Ohmigosh! That’s my car!”
The guard came down beside me, “Somebody steal it?”
“No. That has to be my friend driving. But why would she leave without me?”
“I can call it in so someone stops ‘er?”
“Oh Lord! She’d really panic then.” I pictured Marti getting pulled over for grand theft auto. “Better not. But thanks anyway.”
I opted to rush inside for answers. What a night. Now I was stranded.
The silent passageway further added to my panic. What was going on here?
A heavy-set security guard rounded the corner and blocked my way, “Miss! This passage is closed.”
“But I need to meet someone.” I began explaining the situation, but the guard was adamant.
“You’ll have to go around.”
“Look.” I attempted reason. “My car just drove away without me, I don’t have any shoes… ”
“I have to clear this corridor, ma’am,” he drawled.
This was ridiculous. No car, now Barney Fife was kicking me out.
“But why?” I heard my volume rise, “Elvis has left the building. What’s the big deal?”
“No reason to get excited, ma’am.”
“So-what-do-you-suggest-I-do?” I said through gritted teeth.
“That’s not my problem. Clearin’ this corridor, that’s my problem… ”
“I’d be HAPPY to clear your corridor if you’d just let me BY!” I shouted.
“Now ma’am, ya gotta be reasonable.”
Grrr. I don’t know what I would have done if, at that moment, Wally’s shiny head hadn’t poked out of a doorway down the hall.
The officer turned to face him, “I’m sorry sir. This young lady… ”
“Esther!” Wally’s face broke into a wide smile.
The guard faced me again. “I tried to tell her no one was allowed here.”
“It’s fine, Renfro. Esther, come with me.”
I pushed past my uniformed adversary to join Wally. Renfro, huh? He deserved that name. “I just watched my car drive away. What’s up?”
Wally seemed maddeningly less concerned than I felt the situation deserved as we descended a short flight of stairs. Soon we stood in front of an elevator in a low-ceilinged hallway.
“Am I glad you showed up! That guy was in-sane!” Now that I was good and keyed up, it was hard to calm down, “And why did Marti race off like that? Do you have any idea?” My rant fizzled as the elevator door opened and Wally entered some kind of security code into the panel, finally pushing a button marked “E.” What could that mean? Exit?
I wasn’t sure how many floors we descended, but I had the distinct impression we were a good deal below ground level when the doors opened and I stared into a small, pristine parking garage, empty except for a mid-size black limousine, not as large as the monster that had pulled away from the curb moments before, but still long and intimidating. The driver got out and opened the door to the backseat. I turned to Wally, “What’s going on?”
Before he could answer, the opposite door opened and Sky appeared. For one moment, my heart and brain ceased all function.
“What’s this?” He raised an eyebrow my way as Wally explained my dilemma “Renfro!” Sky gave a burst of laughter and adopted a Texas twang, “The Sheriff a’ this-here town!”
Wally also said something about how the “decoy” seemed to work. I was still pondering the meaning of that statement when he said, “I thought you might require a dinner companion?”
What?
Sky put an arm around Wally’s shoulders and drew him aside for a whispered conversation as my mind raced. Sky gestured my way and I heard him use the words, “schoolgirl” and ”not a good idea” as he shook his head at Wally’s whispered reply. Hey. A big, fat “NO!” was my line.
It was all the disillusionment I could stand for one night. “Uh, excuse me. I’ll call a cab. Problem solved.” I turned and began padding toward the elevator. “Do I need a code to work this?”
There were footsteps behind me but I didn’t look. Escape from humiliation was right through those metal doors.
“You’re not calling a cab.” Sky’s hand gripped my shoulder.
Even at that moment, my entire being focused on the warmth of his hand. Aargh. I jerked away with undue force as a door at the other end of the garage with a red EXIT sign above it banged open and two guys rushed through.
One, the spiky-haired guy from before, whacked the other on the shoulder, “Told ya!” The second guy raised a camera and the audible sound of a repeating shutter echoed from concrete walls.
Sky reached for my arm, his tight grip pulling me toward the car as Wally, shouting into his radio, trotted toward the intruders.
I attempted to pull free but Sky put his face close to mine and said through clenched teeth, “I’ll explain later. We have to go.”
I searched his eyes for a panic-filled split second, then climbed into the darkness of the waiting car.
CHAPTER SIX
We began to move and I turned for a last glimpse of Wally and saw Renfro, heavy girth bouncing, burst from the elevator and race toward the action. Man, he could move when he put his mind to it.
I nearly fell against Sky as the car negotiated tight, ascending curves.
“Sorry.” He reached across to latch my safety belt then secured his own. “Another peaceful night, eh Frank?”
In answer, the middle-aged man at the wheel glanced in the rearview mirror with a slight smile.
Sky introduced me to his
driver who answered with a nod. “There.” He turned to me. “Feel free to breathe.”
“Considering how I just broke the number one rule about cars and strangers… ” I tried to relax the body language. It didn’t work.
“I had no idea they were in town.” Sky grumbled to himself.
“Aren’t they just nosy reporters?”
“Hired, nosy reporters. Friends of an old… acquaintance.” He rubbed his eyes.
We stopped before a garage-style door and Frank reached out the window to punch some buttons. The door rose and soon we pulled out of a short tunnel into the night.
Frank spoke, “You’ll be expected at The Mansion, so… plan B?”
“Are we doing the whole ‘cloak and dagger’?”
“Probably not necessary. They were detained.”
Sky turned his attention to the well-stocked bar. “Would you like something? You look like you could use it.”
I gave a stiff, “No, thank you,” and looked out the window. My first time in a limousine and I was too miserable to care.
As the monstrous building faded away into the darkness behind us, it seemed we stood still while the world slipped past on a movie screen.
“Ya’ll can just drop me at that 7-11 up there.” I said, referring to the familiar red and white lights ahead.
“Ya’ll must be kidding!” he mocked. “Frank, let’s boot the lady onto the street corner, in her stocking feet no less, and toss some change at her head.”
“Look, I’m just trying to get you off the hook.” I gave him an icy glare. It was either that or cry.
It got very quiet in that car. I clasped my hands and stared down at the bare feet poking from under the velvet—dirty feet, like those of a homeless urchin. No urchin could have felt more pathetic.
There was a soft whirring noise as the divider behind Frank’s head rose, replacing the opening with black glass.