“Right!” Damion said. He seemed like he wanted to believe her, but he looked terrified.
“Don’t worry,” Gary said. “He wasn’t such a bad guy. He just wasn’t all that smart. If he is here; he is harmless.”
“I ain’t afraid of no ghost!” Damion said jokingly. “I better go sign in.”
“There is no sign in sheet tonight, Diane has an opening game or something,” Liz said.
Damion dropped his shoulders and sighed, “Oh, I hate that crap!”
Liz watched Damion step out of sight. She turned to Gary, “See what I mean. It’s not just me. I think Diane learned those games at Tupperware parties in the eighties. They’re terrible!”
“I know, but we have to role model with positive attitudes!”
“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have to play Tupperware and baby shower games.”
“New rules. She told me last night that she expected me and my entire stage crew to start joining the cast bonding games.”
“Ha!” Liz said. “I can’t wait to see how that goes over with the crew!”
The cast assembled on stage. Mark called the group to the piano. Mark was the music director for the show. The cast loved him, especially the females. He was a very good looking, charismatic and talented musician. This would be his second show with the Star Bright. His first show was the show that was playing the night Kevin was killed in the lobby.
“Gather around the piano everyone, Diane is going to be a few minutes late. She wanted me to start with a vocal warm up. Since most of the rehearsal tonight will be musical, I want to get a good solid warm up in before she arrives. If there are any running crew members still in here, Bill expects you to report immediately to the shop.” He waited as the cast gathered around the piano and the last of the crew members headed to the back.
Liz stepped up to the piano and watched Mark lay his fingers on the keys. He caught her staring and gave her a wink. It reminded her of the wink he’d shot her during her first lesson with him months ago. She felt her insides melt. Dang it, she thought. How does he do that?—every time. She glanced across the piano at Shayla to see if she’d caught the exchange. She had.
Shayla was claiming herself as Mark’s girlfriend, but Mark didn’t seem to be claiming anyone. Liz had what she called an ‘almost thing’ with Mark. They’d gone out for drinks together, but it never amounted to anything. His attention was something all of the girls were after and Liz almost had it. Shayla challenged her and Liz didn’t like the game. She sat back and waited to see how Mark would react to the whole situation. He reacted to Shayla with subtle responses but didn’t seem to be swayed by her aggressive nature. Yet, he remained cool and indecisive in his approach to Liz. She found it confusing. She was still exploring the idea of a relationship with Mark when Gary began to pursue her.
She never anticipated that Gary would be her choice until he aggressively made his intentions known. In contrast to Mark’s aloof nature, Gary treated her like his queen. The whole world seemed to stop when she walked into a room. She found Mark to be much more attractive but equally distracted. When her attention shifted to Gary, she was disappointed but not surprised that Mark’s attention immediately shifted to Shayla.
Mark never actually stopped eyeing Liz. She was glad he was still looking, but it terrified her. She’d never felt so conflicted and her lack of experience didn’t help. She spent most of her time during her college years working, rehearsing and helping her grandmother take care of her sick mother. There hadn’t been much time or interest in dating. Now it seemed to consume her. Gary gave her a friendship that she’d never known with a man. Mark stirred her physical desires, and it seemed that he was always on her mind or somewhere close by toying with her.
She separated Gary and Mark into two categories of men. Gary was safe and Mark was dangerous. She chose safe. It matched the essence of who she was. Yet, deep inside, she was questioning if dangerous was something more like what she really wanted.
She watched Mark flip his hair off of his forehead as he coached the sopranos up the scale.
“Okay, release the jaw, here we go ladies,” he said.
She glanced at Shayla again. It was sad how she’d become obsessed with keeping her first-place position with Mark. Her eyes were always darting about the room like a scared baby squirrel looking for signs of predators. She was a talented, committed and hardworking artist, but Liz noticed that her passion for Mark was taking priority over everything. Every movement, every calculated gesture, all of the words she spoke, the clothes she wore, the number of times she freshened her lip gloss; it was all driven by one purpose—Mark’s attention. It was clear to Liz that Shayla was completely lost in his existence, and she carried on as if the other girls should be jealous.
Liz would never be jealous of a girl who was imprisoned by a man’s spirit. Gary never had that effect on her. He made her feel the opposite. It seemed that in bonding with him, she was empowered by her own free will. It was exactly what she wanted. She hoped that was all she needed.
Mark grinned at her when she hit the top note of her range. The rest of the girls had dropped off several notes below. Shayla glared at him. He didn’t notice. He kept his eyes on Liz. She watched his grin extend to expose the dimples on both sides of his face. Shayla’s glare shifted off of him and onto her. It was a stark contrast to the pleasure Mark branded into her soul at that moment.
“Okay,” Gary called from the side of the stage. “I just got a text from Diane.” He held a sheet paper into the air. “She’s still running late and has asked me to have everyone sign in.”
Liz started toward the stage. The crowd rushed around her and she felt a hard push into her shoulder. She turned expecting an apology. It was Shayla. Shayla said nothing.
After the cast finished signing in, they stood quietly talking in small groups. Diane appeared from the back of the theatre. “Hey,” she called to Gary as she approached her table, “what’s going on here? Why are we wasting time?”
“I was just about to suggest a line reading for Act One,” he said as the cast came to order.
“About to? It is your job to keep the rehearsal’s productive in my absence!”
“Sorry,” he replied.
Diane plopped her prompt book onto the table and said, “I had a warm up game planned. We can skip that and move on. There’s no need to waste any more time.”
Liz watched Damion drop his eyes to the stage floor and smile. He mumbled, “Thank you sweet Jesus.”
“Sorry? Did you say something Damion?”
“No Ma’am, I was just saying a little rehearsal prayer before we start. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said. Several cast members around him giggled.
“I had to deal with some personal things, I apologize for being late. The next time I’m late, I expect that Gary will have an idea of what to do to keep you productive. Tonight—” Suddenly a frame from one of the gelled lights fell out of the ceiling and hit the floor in front of her. The crashing of the small frame on the floor was followed by a loud pop as the lamp’s bulb exploded.
“OH SWEET LORD!!!” Damion screamed and disappeared into the crowd around him. The rest of the cast gasped. “WHAT THE—!” Damion called out from behind the shoulder of one of the girls. “That ain’t cool! That—that right there, that is the Devil’s work!”
Diane didn’t move until Gary rushed over to her and picked up the gel frame. “I’m sorry about that. Somebody must have forgotten to close the safety shutter on the frame when they gelled the lamp. I’ll check all the lamps first thing in the morning. I’ll get a broom.”
Diane tried not to show her nerve. “Okay, if I can get everyone to carefully step off of the stage. Please be careful and step around the glass and gather at the piano. We need to work on the large group numbers.” She let out a deep breath as she finished her direction, “Mark, can you take it from here?”
“Yes Ma’am,” he said as he shifted his music book on the piano.
“There is nothing haunting about what just happened, Damion.” Diane said as she climbed into her chair behind the table. She kept her eyes focused on the prompt book and continued to explain, “The stage lights have sensitive bulbs. They will occasionally burst like that.” She glanced up at Gary. He was busy sweeping the stage. “Especially if the stage hands touch them. You have to be very careful not to allow any residue from your hands touch the bulb, or they will explode when they heat up. Whoever is responsible for changing that bulb gets two strikes. One for touching the lamp and two for not closing the safety on the frame.”
“Okay, Ms. Diane, if you say so,” Damion said as he looked up at the light bar before he carefully crossed under it. His eyes were as big as sunflowers.
“I say so,” she responded plainly and shot another look at Gary.
Gary started to respond but Eddie, one of the stage hands, burst onto the stage. He was pale and breathing hard.
“Did you guys hear that?” he asked.
“Watch the glass,” Diane called to him from behind the table. He bent over trying to catch his breath. Eddie didn’t budge. Diane called to him, “Eddie, Bill called for all stage hands in the shop tonight.”
Eddie lifted his head. “Sorry, I ain’t going in there until the lights come back on! The lights were flickering and they went out. After that, there was a huge crash in the loft. I swear it sounded like a motorcycle engine revved up. No one is up there!”
“Nope, nope,”Damion said. He leaped off the edge of the stage. He picked up his jacket from one of the empty seats and started to put it on. “Damion don’t do devils! I’m done! I’m done! Nope, no. Hell no!” The cast watched him walk up the aisle and out of the lobby doors still mumbling to himself. Just as quickly as the doors closed behind him, they opened again. He was still talking, “No, no, not alone; I’m not going out there alone. Not by myself.” He started back toward the stage, removing his jacket. He threw it in a seat. “I’m staying here!” He pulled himself back into the crowd around the piano and crossed his hands over his chest. “Stay with the people, stick with the peeps! When yawl are ready to go, I’ll be going with you. I’m good here! I’m good to stick with the people!”
Diane calmly called to Mark, “I don’t hear any music.”
Damion immediately started singing the opening number in a high falsetto at the top of his range. The cast burst into laughter.
16
Mary watched the dietician set Clifford’s lunch in front of him.
“I brought him a cherry pie, but the nurse snatched it right out of my hands,” she said.
The dietician grinned as she opened a small applesauce and a can of juice on the tray.
“Oh no,” she said. “They wouldn’t allow him to have pie today. Not after what he’s been through.”
Mary stared at Clifford’s tray as the woman scurried out of the room. “What in Sam’s Hell is the matter with this place? They call that dinner?” she said.
“It’s fine, Mary. It will do.” Clifford said.
“You have seen Jesus!” Mary said. “You’re blinded by some saintly state of mind. That is unacceptable! You poor thing. I’ll bring you food tomorrow. I’ll bring in more cherry pie too, but I’ll have to hide it from those vultures!”
“As wonderful as that sounds, you heard the lady, they’re not going to let me have cherry pie. That is off the list for a while!”
“That’s exactly what is making me madder than a hornet in a spider’s web. Look at your plate! They stole my cherry pie but next to that sorry excuse of a turkey breast, they gave you a roll, butter and applesauce. Same as an apple pie, if you ask me!”
“Hmmmm—I like the way you think!” he said.
“The trouble is, these people with all their rules and high fluting regulations are just trying to make things look right. The truth is, what you're eating is a poor man’s version of apple pie. I’m looking at flour, oil, apples, sugar, and butter—just need a sprinkle of cinnamon. It’s all the same stuff with an unhealthy dose of chemicals and preservatives. And, I’ll bet it is costing you more than a five-star restaurant to have that hideous excuse of a meal set in front of you.”
Clifford set down his spoon. “I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t even think of you. Have you had anything to eat today? I should have insisted she bring you something?”
“No, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset your meal. You go on and enjoy that. You need to eat! Maybe I’ll step out across the street and find something when you nap again. I’m fine now, I’ll go find something when you’re asleep again.”
“That won’t be long,” he answered. “I don’t know what it is they’re giving me but it sure makes me sleepy.”
“They’re probably giving you something to keep your blood thin. I think it’s what’s making you see things too.”
“The medicine makes me sleepy but, I saw Jesus for real; Kevin too.” He lifted his head and tilted it toward the corner of the room. “In fact, Kevin just walked in again. He says he totally agrees with you about the pie. He also wants you to know that the nurse lied to you. There is still a half a pie sitting in the break room. He said he just saw somebody cutting a slice!”
“Oh my Lanta!” Mary said. She leaped out of her chair and headed straight for the nurses station. She didn’t wait for the woman behind the desk to look up. “I keep telling you that man in there is over medicated! He is hallucinating and it just isn’t normal. I want to talk to the Doctor!”
The woman behind the counter stood up. She started to respond but was interrupted by a nurse who walked through the door behind her. She was carrying a small plate and poking a plastic fork into it as she made her way to an empty chair behind the counter.
“There’s still a half a cherry pie in there; if anyone wants a slice!” she said.
“Mr. Brown’s Doctor isn’t scheduled to stop by until later this afternoon,” the woman behind the counter replied. Mary was frozen with disbelief. “Ma’am?” the woman said. She struggled to get her attention. “Is there something else I can help you with?”
“No,” Mary said slowly. She was staring at the woman with the slice of cherry pie. “No, I’m sorry to bother you.”
17
Anna Marie left C. C. and Sons with more questions than she’d walked in with. The foster care system was complicated to begin with, but her unique situation was making progress nearly impossible. She sat in her car and reached into her purse for a dose of Advil. She turned the key and headed down the road in search of a soda from the nearest drive through. She needed a quick dose of caffeine, or it would only be a matter of minutes before she’d be experiencing a full-blown migraine.
She slurped the last of her drink as she pulled up to the house and surveyed the lot. The place was in desperate need of a paint job and a gardener. “Kevin, you have left such a mess on so many levels!” she said out loud as she thought of how he’d never taken an interest in the upkeep of their home. Her cell phone chimed in her purse. It was a text from Bill.
How did it go?
Not good. She texted back. Apparently, it is not as easy as it appears. The attorney says I need to turn in the cash for a full investigation before I can claim it. I also have a brand-new stack of paperwork to fill out from the agency.
Why?
First, they have to decide if it is legal money. After that, they have to decide who it belongs to. Whatever legally belonged to Kevin is apparently mine. Whatever legally belonged to Darci and Kevin is still hers. Nobody knows where he got the money. It is too much cash to deposit without an inquiry.
You said it was his gambling money.
I was only guessing, she wrote.
Hold on, a minute, I’ll call you,. he texted.
She walked into the house and set her purse on the sofa. The phone rang immediately. “It�
��s all so complicated,” she answered.
“I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be so difficult.” Bill said.
“The investigation could take a long time. I really need to get that girl out of foster care!”
“I know,” he replied. “Did you ask about setting up visits?”
“Yes, it is up to the temporary foster mother. If she agrees; I’ll get to see Annie as soon as Darci signs off on it.”
“I’m sure she’ll sign off.”
“Yes. I’m just worried about the time it could take to push that paperwork through.”
“Anna Marie, listen. I know you are anxious to see that little girl. I understand it, I respect it and I support it. But, I’m worried about you. You have to take care of yourself first and foremost. Let me ask you something, did you even eat today?”
“I did, but not enough.”
“What did you eat? Coffee doesn’t count.”
“Coffee doesn’t count?” she repeated. “Well, in that case—”
“That’s what I thought. You have to be good to yourself! You’re still going through a lot.”
“I’m fine. That little girl is going through a lot! Life has smacked me around, but I’m a big girl. I can see that things will eventually get better. I can handle it!”
“Children are remarkably resilient too,” he said.
“What she’s going through is more than remarkable. That child lost everything in one day. I saw him with her. From her point of view, he was everything a little girl could ever want in a father. She has no idea what a mess he was. Shoot, I’m a grown woman and I didn’t know!”
“That’s true,” he conceded.
“And, I don’t care if Darci is a crazy nut job or not. To that little girl, she was a mother. She was the mother who hugged her, made her lunches and took her to school every day. She braided her hair and read her bedtime stories. In a single day, her father was dead, and her mother was in prison. I can’t even imagine. I can’t—” She broke.
The False Exit Page 7