Mackenna on the Edge

by Djuna Shellam

  On an elementary level, Basic Training changed me forever, from how I view my place in the world to how I fold my underwear. Although I had the appearance and reputation of being a masterful “skate,” I still relied upon my superiors to dictate my every move—when to eat, sleep, use the bathroom, what to wear, what to say, when to say it and how to say it—and was exemplary in my training. Upon graduation from Basic Training, I was off to another world known as Tech School, and then off to Italy and real military life. Probably the most difficult lesson in my military training was learned at my first duty base: that most of my Basic Training and Tech School lessons must be quickly unlearned if I was to survive with minimal ridicule from my older and wiser compatriots.

  FIFTEEN

  “The Plaza, My Dear"

  Eve stood at the door of the dimly lit library and knocked softly on the doorjamb. “Hi… You busy?”

  “Huh?” Mackenna looked up from the computer screen squinting toward the silhouetted figure standing in the doorway.

  “Of course you are…” Eve’s face flushed slightly. “I mean, might I interrupt you for just a minute?”

  “Sure, of course. Come and sit down.” Mackenna motioned to a wingback chair nearest her desk, closed the laptop computer and sat back in the large leather swivel chair. “I could use a little break.” She yawned and wearily stretched her arms above her head.

  Eve crossed the room and sat on the edge of the chair seat and quickly took a sweeping inventory of the room. “Wow,” she exclaimed, “this is some room, isn’t it?”

  Mackenna nodded and drew a slow deep breath. “It was my father’s favorite room, and I… well, I’ve kind of adopted it,” she said as she absent-mindedly ran her hand over the brass tacks on her chair, remembering. “I’m finding it a pretty decent place to write.”

  “I love it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Actually, I just wanted to stop in and tell you I’ll be gone for a couple days—maybe more.” Eve threw her hands up in the air and smiled. “I completely forgot about a job I signed for three months ago. Can you believe that? Who forgets they’re going to be in a movie?”

  “Sure, I can believe it.” Mackenna rubbed her eyes and said, “It’s been just a little distracting these last few days. Where’s the shoot?”

  “New York.” Eve settled back into the chair. “It’s a small supporting part in a film—only about twenty lines.”

  “That’s wonderful! Tell me all about it,” Mackenna prodded.

  “Well, Francine Carter and Riley Landau are producing.”

  “You’re kidding! I know them both—Francine backed my first Off-Broadway and I’ve known Riley for about five years now.” Mackenna smiled wryly. “That was when she was still married, though—Francine, that is.”

  “Wow… small world, isn’t it?” Eve said, marveling at the coincidence.

  “Who’s directing?” Mackenna asked with mild enthusiasm. “Well, just tell me everything. I’ll be quiet.” She smiled.

  “All right. Well, Riley’s directing and Deirdre Collier… uh… oh…” Eve stopped suddenly as she remembered Mackenna’s history with Deirdre. Knowing their relationship ended badly, she felt a terrible case of hoof-in-mouth disease coming on. Eve practically murmured the rest of Deirdre’s name. “…Gunn is starring with William Allen.”

  “Oh.” Mackenna tried to hide the pain that crossed her face but was unsuccessful. “Small world, indeed.”

  “I’m sorry, Em… Mackenna.” Damn, she thought.

  “No, no, Eve, please. It’s nothing, really. I’m okay.”

  “Really? Okay… and I’m really sorry that I keep calling you, you know… Em. It’s so hard after all these years… to change, y’know. But I understand, and I am trying. I swear.” She didn’t really understand, not totally, but she saw Mackenna flinch every time she slipped and it wasn’t a happy reaction.

  “That’s okay,” Mackenna waved away the apology. No, it wasn’t okay, but what was worse? Hearing “Mackenna” coming from Eve’s lips or “Em”? Either name evoked painful memories for her. She compromised. “Whatever you can do —”

  “Ok, but…”

  “No buts.” Mackenna smiled. “Now, back to your part in the film—this is exciting, Eve,” Mackenna commanded somewhat seriously, redirecting the focus back to Eve where it belonged. “Do they have a distributor yet?”

  “I think Miramax is looking at it…” Eve searched her memory, looking upward to the ceiling, crinkled her face and then shook her head. “I don’t know for sure. But yeah, I am excited—that’s why I am just amazed I forgot about it. Silly me!” She slapped her forehead with her palm and laughed a little at the craziness of it all.

  “Well, when do you leave? Do you need a ride to the airport?” Mackenna’s voice betrayed her disappointment at being left behind—behind with her pain and her memories.

  Eve didn’t want to leave so soon. She could tell Mackenna was going through something emotional and felt uneasy leaving her by herself. Even though she seemed to function well enough in normal conversation and appeared to be holding down the fort, Eve sensed Mackenna was hanging on by a thread. What should she do? She couldn’t very well give up a part in a movie to baby-sit this woman—a woman she hadn’t seen more than half-a-dozen times in the past seventeen years. And yet, Eve felt compelled to respond in-kind to Mackenna’s benevolence in opening up her home to her in a time of need. She pondered Mackenna’s offer regarding a ride and her own dilemma for only a moment before making a decision. “Why don’t you come with me?”

  “What?” Mackenna was taken aback by Eve’s sudden invitation, and although a good part of her wanted to go—desperately—another part couldn’t fathom leaving. “Oh no, Eve…” she began clumsily. As she looked at Eve’s pleading eyes, Mackenna was caught in the throes of her own reluctance. Now was not the time to have to deal with Deirdre—she had enough Past on her mind right now. “Thanks for the offer,” Mackenna said gently. “But I need to stay here and, you know, keep my eye on things… and, write, of course.” She patted her laptop.

  “No… Are you sure?” Eve was disappointed and it was evident in her voice.

  “Oh, please don’t sound so let down, Evie.” Mackenna was startled at the ease with which she used Alice’s pet name for Eve. She stammered slightly as she tried to overcome the spontaneous familiarity. “I… I would love to… to go with you—it would be fun, but…”

  “But…” Bolstered by Mackenna calling her Evie, which sent a thrill through her, Eve decided not to give up without just the slightest effort and decided to prod Mackenna just a little bit. “No buts…”

  “But… I am busy, and you’ll be busy, too.” Mackenna continued tentatively. “You won’t have time for me, and I won’t have time for you, or sightseeing, or anything for that matter. It’s not that I wouldn’t love to get away from all this rock ’n rollin’,” she said in reference to the earthquake, “but I should stay and keep working—it’s been a long time. Since I’ve worked, that is,” she added quickly.

  “It’s not like you can’t bring your work with you.” Eve flashed her most charming smile. “A change of pace would do wonders for you, and besides…” She batted her eyelashes at Mackenna. “I’d miss you too much while I’m gone.”

  Mackenna laughed. “We’ve barely seen each other in nearly twenty years—have you grown so fond of me in just one day, Eve?”

  “Yes,” Eve said, her teeth clenched, affecting an upper-crust English accent. “Terribly fond.” Then, nearly pleading she added, “C’mon, pack up your laptop and let’s get the hell out of Dodge—even if you only come with me for a couple days, y’know?”

  “Mmmm…” Mackenna made a deep groaning sound as she contemplated Eve’s most tempting offer. Eve was right—a couple days away might do wonders for her mood. If only she could be certain of avoiding a run-in with Deirdre… Oh hell, Deirdre couldn’t make me feel any worse than I feel already. Besides, she’s already living with someone else�
� That didn’t take long…

  “Whaddya say, Mackenna? Will you join me on my adventure? Or will you sit here like a bump on a pickle? Choose your poison!” Eve grinned a wide grin followed by an enticing wink.

  Mackenna pondered for a minute then said with a resigned sigh, “Where’re you staying?”

  “The Plaza, my dear.”

  “Well, I believe my parents’ penthouse is currently on loan to one of Papá’s friends, but… I suppose the Plaza is an acceptable substitute…”

  “Yea!” Eve leapt over to Mackenna and gave her a warm hug around her neck, kissing her on the cheek. “To the Plaza! And girlfriend, are we going to have fun!” Eve’s demeanor suddenly changed to mock-serious as she added playfully, “And, of course, we’ll work, too.”

  “Of course.” Mackenna laughed softly while she prayed inwardly she wasn’t making a mistake. She thought it slightly absurd how difficult it seemed to be to make a choice between aftershocks and traveling to New York, but life lately was particularly absurd.

  “Thank you.” Still draped around Mackenna’s neck, Eve hugged her again and whispered, “I’ll make sure Deirdre Collier-Gunn doesn’t bother you.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that…” Mackenna quipped as she tousled Eve’s blonde curls and added with just a hint of trepidation, “New York City, here we come.”

  ~/~/~/~/~

  “I’ll have a cappuccino—decaf, please.”

  The Waiter turned to Eve and inquired elegantly, “And for you, Miss?”

  “I’ll have the same, but would you make mine a double?”

  “Of course —”

  “Oh,” Mackenna interrupted. “I’d like a double as well—and I’d also like sprinkled cocoa instead of nutmeg.” Mackenna looked at Eve invitingly and cooed, “Hmmm? Eve?”

  “Absolutely,” Eve agreed. “Me, too.”

  “Certainly,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly with your beverages.” The impeccably dressed waiter turned gracefully and walked quickly to the back of the restaurant, disappearing into the kitchen as Mackenna and Eve silently watched him with weary eyes.

  “How can he stand so ramrod straight?” Eve wondered, speaking in a hushed voice. “And at this hour?”

  “Got me—maybe he wears a brace.”

  “Probably a corset!”

  They both snickered.

  “Well, this place is really great. So suave. So is the hotel suite, and flying first class… God, I feel so spoiled.” Eve looked at Mackenna soulfully and added, “I feel special. Thank you.”

  “Nonsense, Eve—I mean you are very special…” Mackenna blushed slightly as she played with the lip of her water glass, running her finger around the rim. “What I meant was, you don’t have to thank me—I should be thanking you for getting me away from L.A. and all that…” Her voice trailed off as a high-pitched hum erupted from her glass, startling her slightly. “Well, anyway, thank you.”

  An awkwardness that seemed to reappear from time to time from the moment Eve arrived at Mackenna’s home resurfaced, but was immediately dispelled by the arrival of The Waiter carrying two large bowl-like cups of cappuccino on a tray.

  “Here we are—double decaf cappuccino with cocoa for you, madam,” The Waiter said as he set the large bowl-type cup before Eve and then to Mackenna, “And a double decaf cappuccino with cocoa for you as well.” He bowed slightly and said in a hushed tone, “May I get you anything else?”

  Mackenna looked to Eve who shook her head and then said with a tired smile, “No thank you—the check will be fine. Thanks.”

  They watched The Waiter walk away and again stifled their laughter. Their schoolgirl antics were interrupted by a sharp British accent.

  “Well, well—fancy meeting you here, Mackenna.” Deirdre’s emphasis on Mackenna’s name was punctuated with a casual flip of her perfectly straight hair. She waited patiently for her unannounced presence to be acknowledged.

  Startled, Eve and Mackenna looked up to see Deirdre Collier-Gunn with another woman, standing at their table where just seconds before only The Waiter stood.

  “Deirdre.” Mackenna replied dryly. Eve stared at the two women standing in front of them, both of whom were modelesque, especially Deirdre who was beyond stunning. Eve had only seen her in the movies and only once in person, which of course didn’t count because it was across a dimly lit room. She was amazed that Deirdre’s bigger than life aura on-screen actually survived the real world.

  Everything visually about her was perfect. Her shoulder-length hair was a shade of ash blonde that was so flawless it could be nothing but natural, and framed a face that was by all accounts without fault from the slightly upturned nose to the white-white perfectly imperfect teeth to the shapely lips. Eve was struck speechless by the magnificent being standing before her.

  “What brings you to the Big Apple, Ex?” Deirdre smiled coyly at Mackenna. Her large, bedroom eyes nearly glowed a warm hazelnut hue and were filled with mischief. Her date, however, was not amused.

  “She came with me,” Eve interjected. “I’m here for Smart Alex.” She held out her hand to Deirdre. “I’m Eve Magnusson.”

  Deirdre stood staring at Eve, then at Mackenna and then back to Eve before she limply offered her hand to Eve for a brief shake and said with insincerity, “I see, well, welcome aboard, Eva.”

  “Eve,” Mackenna corrected. “Just Eve, Deirdre.”

  Silence ensued as Mackenna, Eve and Deirdre’s date waited for Deirdre to introduce her companion to them; however, Deirdre simply ignored her presence and proceeded to invite Eve and Mackenna to a cocktail party in her suite Friday night—three days away.

  “Sure, thanks…” Eve began just as Mackenna declined the invitation. “No, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” she said, glaring at Eve, her teeth gritted.

  “Whatever…” Deirdre shrugged her shoulders with disinterest. “Well, we must shove off—we’re terribly late for a party in the Village. Come along, darling.”

  Deirdre turned abruptly and began walking away from the table toward the restaurant entrance with her mystery date in tow and sang out, “Ta-ta!” waving her hand in the air as she disappeared into the lobby. Left in stunned silence, Eve and Mackenna turned their attention from the empty doorway to each other. Eve grinned uncomfortably.

  “Well, so much for trying to avoid the devil,” Mackenna said through clenched teeth.

  Eve’s face filled with apology as her cheeks turned pink. “I know, I know…” She was embarrassed and looked quickly down at her coffee. “I’m a shit. It’s just that —”

  “I know,” Mackenna interrupted, “She’s hard to resist. And it’s business. I get it—I know those reflexes well.” She stared into her own cup as she debated the issue in her mind and quickly came to a decision. “We’ll go. I mean, we’ll go together—I mean, I’ll go with you. Are you okay with that?”

  “Sure, but… are you sure?” Eve felt uncomfortable about the whole situation and was prepared to decline the offer in order to protect Mackenna..

  No. Mackenna knew the party had disaster written all over it.

  “’Cause I don’t have to —” Eve continued.

  Mackenna sighed and then smiled weakly. “Actually, you do, and yes, I’m sure. We’ll go and that’s that. Let’s drink up and get out of here—I’m bushed.”

  SIXTEEN

  Goodbuddy

  By the time I arrived at Goodfellow Air Force Base I was a veteran of two and a half years in the military. I don’t know what I expected when I rotated stateside from San Vito Air Base in Italy, but Goodfellow,—or “Goodbuddy” as we called it—named after 1st Lieutenant John L. Goodfellow of San Angelo, a WWI pilot who died in France in 1918, wasn’t it. The most vivid memory I have of Goodfellow is my first, when an old bus from the base picked me up at the bus station downtown. As the aged dark blue, white-roofed Air Force bus drove me closer to the base and farther away from the little “big city,” of San Angelo, I became more and more concerned about my u
ltimate destination and what I might find upon my arrival.

  My concerns were justified, for upon passing through the base gates, I felt certain I was probably going to be depressed the rest of my tour. As the bus trundled slowly down what I now know as the main street—literally Maine Street—I drank in every horrifying detail of my dreadful new home. Yet, no matter how I tried to view my surroundings optimistically, I just could not get past the obvious. Goodfellow was small. And desolate. And just plain homely.

  I was assigned to the Base Information Office to supervise the base newspaper. After San Vito AB, it was a cakewalk as far as the required workload, but from a supervisory standpoint, it was a mess. The former shop supervisor obviously had one thing on his mind the whole two years he managed the paper—retirement.

  I had originally hoped for a challenging assignment that would fatten my resume for my imminent return to the civilian world, and my disappointment could not have been more immense. It was certainly a challenging assignment, but not even close to what I had in mind. San Vito wasn’t exactly the Pentagon, either, but it was a charming locale in Italy with lots of interesting local activity, so I was kept very busy. My job was to write to bolster the troops’ morale, and write I did.

  San Vito was also a Security Service base—part of the USAFSS—or what we liked to call the other Air Force. I never even considered Goodfellow as a possibility when I filled out my dream sheet for re-assignment. I always assumed my rotation would be to a much larger base. Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly. It didn’t occur to me that once in the Security Service always in the Security Service—in most cases, anyway, because of the security clearances we all had ranging from Secret to Top Secret. The Security Service had essentially one mission—to protect the U.S. and its interests from imminent or potential attack. The bulk of Security Service personnel were intelligence gatherers stationed on bases in remote spots around the world, eavesdropping on the airwaves with high tech equipment, collecting every bit of gibberish captured electronically.