Mallory
walked into the room and beamed at John.
“You
just saw it, didn't you?”
“I
did.” She looked up at the ceiling, drawing her fingers through her
hair, trying to gather the many thoughts and feelings that swirled in
her head.
“So?”
“I'm
glad I went alone. I don't think I could have waited to talk about it
and I hate people who talk in movies.”
John
pulled back his blanket and patted the couch next to him. “So let's
talk. What was your favorite part?”
Mallory
dropped onto the couch eyes still up, still living through the movie
in her head. “The whole thing? Everything? I mean the emotion, the
focus on small conflict, the realness of it all.”
“Right?
It feels like life. But life as art. It's beautiful and terrible and
real and better than real.”
“Yes!
That exactly.” She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. “I
feel so good right now. I can't wait till he makes another one.”
John's
face darkened. “Well you know it'll be a while. It takes certain
things for a genius to do his work and selfish people never want to
make the sacrifices.”
Mallory
lifted his chin and and smiled at him.
“Don't
worry, babe. They'll do it. No one wants to live in a world with his
brilliance.”
~~~
The
room was dark except for a single light behind the three men sitting
at the table. That single light was sun bright and spotlighted a
young girl in a thin cotton sundress.
The
girl blocked her eyes and squinted at the men, but they were blocky
black shadows in the dark.
“You're
certain no one will miss her?”
“Her
mother, maybe, but she's no angel. We can paint it as an unfit parent
getting help from a wealthy, softhearted celebrity and then turning
on her benefactor. Plus, everyone loves those movies.”
The
girl couldn't tell which ones were speaking. Just that in the whole
time that she'd been in here two of them had talked about her like
she wasn't there and one never said a word.
“What's
he saving her from? Health problems? Poverty? We can't have...”
There
was more, but she didn't understand it. She looked down at her dress.
It was new. A yellow dress like for the summer time with a lady bug
on a leaf on it. She grabbed the skirt and looked at it closer. Cold
air blew on her bare legs. There were one, two, three spots on one
side of the ladybug and one, two, three, four on the other side.
She
was so busy counting she hadn't noticed one of the men had gotten
closer to her. The light was still behind him and he was bent over so
she couldn't see his face.
“What's
your name?”
His
voice was softer than the other men's. He was the one that hadn't
been talking.
“Myra
Jean Falloy.”
“Well,
Myra Jean. You're going to come with me. Isn't that nice? I make
movies and my movies make people happy. Making people happy is good
isn't it, Myra Jean?”
She
nodded.
“You're
going to make me happy, so I can make other people happy.”
He
held his hand out, the long shadow of it cut her in half. She
hesitated for a moment, thinking of her Mother. She hesitated, but
then relents. She is a child. It's her job to trust adults.
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