Em wrinkled her nose. Stale beer, cigarette smoke, sweat, and the musty smell of sex. What a seedy little joint to be stuck in. And stuck she was—to the chair. She shifted and tried to stand, grabbed a fistful of her skirt and jerked it towards her. The skirt came free. She lost her balance and slammed into the floor face first. She tasted blood. Fuck! All the dangerous situations I'm in and the only time I get hurt is when I do something klutzy. She wiped her mouth with the edge of her skirt and ran her tongue around her teeth. None seemed to be loose, but she had cut her lip. Damn! She muttered and rolled to a sitting position.
“Here. Let me help you.” A hand appeared in front of her face. She looked up to see a woman in white smiling down at her. The beauteous face ... she half expected to see angel wings, a halo.... “He never should have left you here. I'll have a word with him about this.”
“No. Please. Don't say anything. It's alright. Really. I'll be fine.” Em accepted the helping hand and rose in one fluid motion. She brushed her skirt with her hands, and then ran her fingers through her hair. “Thank you.” She looked up. The woman was gone. The bar empty. She didn’t stop to think who it was she’d been defending.
*
She picked up the phone, dialed Tom's room. “Can you come to my office please?”
“What's up, Boss. You sounded worried and I don't mind telling you, you look like hell.”
She took a deep breath. “Do you believe in extraterrestrial beings?”
“Whoa, girl. Where did that come from?” She shifted in her chair. “I ... nothing. Sorry.
It was a bad dream I had last night. Spooked me is all.”
Tom frowned. “Are you sure you're not sick or something?”
She nodded. “Yeah, sorry to have bothered you.” She waved a hand at him. “Now get out of here. Back to the kidlets.” Her grin was wobbly.
Tom grinned back, but felt like cursing. He found Sue refilling her coffee cup in the staffroom. “She's not okay, is she?”
“No, and I don't mind telling you I'm worried sick. She asked me today if I believed in aliens and then seemed heartbroken when I said no. I thought she'd burst into tears then and there.”
“So what do we do?”
“I've called her family like you suggested last time we talked. Waiting to hear back.”
Tom squeezed Sue's shoulder. “Let me know as soon as you get word. I'll go with you to talk to them.”
*
Ron entered his dressing room weary but elated. This afternoon’s matinee audience had been particularly responsive and the cast performed on a high. The play was scheduled for a move to the Lincoln Center. There was talk of Tony nominations. It wasn’t until he sat down to remove his makeup that he saw her in the mirror behind him. She was sitting on the cot studying him intently.
“Em, you’re here.” Ron’s eyes lit up and his smile was wide and warm. “Brilliant Ron,” he mocked. “But I’m too happy to feel as stupid as that sounded.”
“I came to see your performance.”
“Did you like it?”
“You were wonderful as always, but I confess I didn’t understand the play at all.”
He laughed. “You know that most people would never admit something like that. You’re so honest.”
“Refreshingly or brutally so?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Can you stay for a while? I’ve got tomorrow off.”
“I know. That’s why I came tonight. If I go incognito, would you show me the sights?”
“I’d love to. Let me change and we’ll go to some trendy spot for drinks. Have you got something else to wear?”
“Em looked down at the dress that glowed. She often wondered if it cast a halo around her. Christ, she hoped not. That would make her look like some sort of religious figure. She gave the skirt a little shake. Tiny sparks flew off it and danced around her.
Ron laughed. “That sort of defeats the incognito, doesn’t it? We'll fix that tomorrow. Here put my coat on for tonight. Shame to cover such a beautiful dress.” Em did as he asked and he looked her over critically. “I don’t think anyone will recognize you and you just might make a new fashion statement.”
Em studied herself in the mirror. “I hardly think so. It’s a clever disguise. I’m not sure I want to look this frumpy though.” Em could have told him she didn’t need a disguise. With the blink of an eye, she could make them invisible if she wanted to. Caught once between warring cartels with no apparent way out, the ring had shown her how. But, Ron was having too much fun.
“Wait here. I have a better idea.” He was back moments later. “Try this.”
“A bit skimpy don’t you think?” He had found a dress belonging to one of the costume girls. It was a bit of nothing held up by the skinniest of spaghetti straps and barely long enough to cover her tush.
He leered and lunged at her, picked her up and swung her in a full circle. “Perfect for the New York hot spots. Very sexy.”
“Wow, I like the effect.” Em kissed him on the cheek and twirled in front of the mirror eyeing him over her shoulder. “But Ron, if the press take pictures of us how will you explain me?”
“I’ll say I was asked to entertain the producer’s daughter and I’ll try my best to keep my hands off you in public.”
“The producer’s daughter? The producer’s mother maybe.”
“Honey chil’, you are wa-a-a-ay too sexy to be anyone’s mother.”
Em felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes. But I am someone's mother. You showed me the stretch marks.
“Now put my coat on and go out the front.” He rolled up Em’s dress and put it in his carry all. “I’ll use the stage door and try to lose the reporters. Meet me across the street about half a block down to the right.”
They stopped for drinks at the Hudson Hotel and had a late dinner at Mooza’s in the Lower East Side.
They rose early the next morning to go to Ellis Island. Em cried when she saw all the suitcases. “Imagine all of your life packed up in one little case and leaving all that was familiar for the unknown. The courage it must have taken.” She read out loud the one quote that, in her opinion, neatly summed up the whole immigrant experience.
I came to America because I heard the streets were paved with gold. I learned three things after I arrived. The streets were not paved with gold. The streets were not paved at all. I was expected to pave them.
They were browsing in ABC Carpets, Em caressing the wonderful old wooden furniture when it happened.
“Yo, buddy, how the hell are you?” a voice called from behind them. Ron froze.
“Tony,” he muttered. “It’s too late to avoid him. What the hell do we do?” He turned his back and shielded Em from his friend’s view.
Em moved around Ron, smiled and extended her hand. “Hello. You must be Tony. Ron’s told me so much about you.”
“All good of course,” Tony quipped, grinning and ogling her at the same time, still holding her hand in both of his.
“Paws off,” Ron growled.
Tony looked at him sharply and then back to her. “I still don’t know your name beautiful lady.” He oozed charm.
“I’m Miracle Madame. Call me Em.” Tony’s mouth dropped open and he let go of her hand so fast she almost lost her balance. Ron looked at her quizzically. “He’s your best friend,” she whispered.
“Still….”
“It’s okay, honest.” She mouthed the word lunch. Ron nodded agreement. Em turned back to Tony. “We were about to go for a late lunch. Would you like to join us?”
Tony stared. “I … uh… if it’s okay….” Tony fumbled and looked to Ron who nodded assent.
*
I watched and fumed when Tony took them to a small restaurant in Harlem. Once he relaxed he was entertaining, interesting, and fun. Em laughed heartily at his wit. It wasn't fair. I could be funny too—for her. Then she jumped into her probing questions, even accepted some of his opinions. What did a dancer know about anything? Oh, Guardian! It was time I went to visit my parents or something.
I saw Ron puff up with pride because he thought he helped Em clarify her thinking through their discussions. Did he really think she couldn’t do without him? Hadn’t she mentioned me often enough? My parents were waiting. I'd sent a message that I would stop in, but I couldn’t leave Em high and dry with these two bumpkins. She might need me for something at any moment.
Tony made a great fuss, bowing and kissing the back of her hand gallantly when they parted.
Still Tony was a good guy and after all she was Em.
*
Ron opened the door to his hotel suite for Em, eyeing her curvy bottom as she passed in front of him.
“Tony's a hoot. Critical thinker. I can see why you like him so much.”
Ron grinned. “He's a good guy, no question.” He slapped her on the bum. “Enough about him. Time for a quickie before I have to go back to the theatre.”
“One sec.” Em flipped on the TV looking for the news.
Ron came out of the bedroom half undressed. “Hustle your buns, girl.”
Em stood frozen in front of the TV, her face a mask of horror and anger. “I don’t believe it. What the hell are they thinking? I told them, damn it. Fucking idiots! How can they be so fucking stupid?”
“Em, what the hell?” She sounded like a stevedore. He turned to the TV. The scene was familiar, bombing in the early hours somewhere in the Middle East. “… at each other again in yet another of the attacks and counterattacks that are making a mockery of the ceasefire.”
Ron held his breath. His heart beat wildly as he watched missiles exploding in flashes, lighting the night sky, illuminating the mangled wreckage of cars and buildings strewn with bodies and blood. Combat helicopters blasted the top floors of a building sending rubble flying in every direction. Clouds of tear gas floated in the street, tanks roared past crushing everything in their path. A car exploded spewing metal fragments onto the street.
The incessant pinging of gunfire drummed at his brain and there Em was, striding down the street—smack in the middle of it all. News reports had always shown Em in dangerous situations but never, never like this. Her dress was a beacon in the dark night air making her a perfect target. “Oh, Em!” Ron moaned. Unable to tear his eyes away from the screen, he cried out to her. “Oh, my God, Em! You’re going to be killed, be killed, be killed….” The words echoed ominously, endlessly.
The usually dispassionate voice of the BBC reporter bristled with tension. “Bloody hell! Miracle Madame has appeared out of nowhere, her dress a brilliant target, beckoning through the dark patches.
My God! She is walking directly into the lines of fire. She’s going to be killed.
“Oh noooo!” The announcer’s wail echoed in Ron’s ears. “I can’t see her. Is she still there?
The reporter gulped, mopped his forehead with the back of his hand, then suddenly recoiled and staggered back as if shot. “A man just exploded. His severed head bounced across the street; bloody bits of bone and flesh splattered in every direction. Nails and pieces of shrapnel too, I think. God, I can’t see. Where is she?”
Another bomb exploded and set a car on fire bringing unwanted illumination. The cameraman, having found her in those moments of light, moved to a close-up. She stopped in the center of the street and raised her arms. Slowly, very slowly, she made a full turn. The gunfire and missiles ceased, their thundering echoes reverberating, dying slowly, the howl of war dissolving into shards of silence.
Ron could see that she was speaking. He collapsed on the sofa and watched intently. Men poured out of the buildings on both sides and flocked around her. She spoke again and the crowd dispersed, absurdly peaceful, almost like a group leaving a stadium after a game.
Suddenly she was back, beside him, hugging him, demanding he hug her tighter, and tighter still, telling him she loved him, babbling incoherently, on the verge of hysteria.
*
Okay, this was a bit much even for me. I had to use all my power to protect her. She was reckless, acting without thinking. I’d have to have a little talk with her. Set some ground rules. Damn, she'd be dead before I could talk to her, if she wasn't more careful. I used all my power and pulled her from the scene. Sent her back to Ron. Made me mad to have to do so when all I wanted was to have her with me.
I turned my attention to Ron for a moment. He felt brittle, on the verge of breaking with the pain and distress. Mentor was beside me, watching; plotting a way to make Ronny boy feel better, no doubt. That made me even madder.
*
“Em, I was so afraid. Oh God, so afraid. I’ve never been that scared in my life.” Ron’s hold on her tightened. He felt her body shudder and fold in on itself. He held her up and massaged her back and shoulders. as he spoke, the words tumbling out on top of each other. “I thought you would be killed. I thought you would die.”
“That was the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done,” Em said. “But you know I can’t get hurt.” The quaver in her voice, the thin tinny sound didn’t convince him.
“Even so. Oh Em!” He held her even tighter, but she didn’t protest.
A long while later she said she had to go back.
“Em, you can’t. It’s too dangerous, even for you.”
“The fighting has stopped now. I’ll be okay. I promise. I’ve set up some meetings. I have to go. It’s my job.”
“No! Em, please. I’ve been fool enough to think I understood what you go through. Now I’ve seen, firsthand, the toll. How much more of this can you take?”
“As much as I have to. Ron, I have to.” She was gentle and chiding at the same time.
Ron sighed. “When do you have to go? Jeez Em, I hate sounding like a sulky child.”
“Soon, but I don’t want to leave you yet.” Ron called in sick, knowing his understudy would be thrilled to go on for him. They ordered room service, but the food went untouched.
“I have to go.” Em said.
Ron rose reluctantly and held out his hand. She took it and moved into the circle of his arms.
“I have to go.”
“I know Em, and I’m making it harder for you.”
*
Yeah, he was and she should have been angry with him but instead her heart softened. Women! But, would I want Em to be any other way. I liked that she was strong and soft at the same time. I liked that she was sensitive to his moods and needs. I wanted that for myself. That's what I wanted.
*
“I’m sorry,” Ron said. “If I had an eternity, it wouldn’t be enough time to love you.”
“I know.” She moved away from his embrace and took his hand. “They’ll wait for me,” she said, and led him to the bed.
Afterwards, in the blink of an eye she was gone. She had been standing, naked, smiling sadly down at him. Then she was gone.
*
“Man, you're one lucky bastard,” Tony said when he and Ron met at Jake's the next day. “Not to knock you or anything, but what the hell can you do for her? I mean she's Miracle Madame for Christ's sake.”
Ron closed his eyes. I am privy to her thought processes. I help her clarify her thinking. I help her bring the two halves of her life together. I am her refuge from her fears. I am her love, her heart, her soul.
*
Who did the bastard think he was? Me?
Then I heard Ron tell his friend that he felt blessed that Em had chosen him. Huh, Mentor chose you, you idiot.
I clamped down on that thought immediately, but Mentor didn’t seem to notice. She was focused on the two humans.
“Everything we see and hear about her paints a picture of perfection,” Tony said. “Is she really that flawless?”
“She says she gets cranky and bitchy but I’ve never seen it.”
“Have you seen her angry?”
“Oh, yeah!”
Mentor`s eyebrows rose. “She gets angry.”
“Yes,” I muttered.
“Good for her.” Mentor sauntered away whistling a jaunty tune