Chapter 31
Placed before a camera or a horde of fans, Lucy would be all smiles and giggles. Away from the camera, she was pure business. She knew for her to survive in the world of fortune and fame she would have to be shrewd, aggressive and unrelenting. The only commodity she had to sell was her body, her beauty and her ability to play a life other than her own. She understood instinctively that there were countless other women just as beautiful and flirtatious as she that would go to any length to occupy the position she had. Angelina saw both sides of her and was long since impressed and disgusted at the facade that was held up.
They went into an office where the personal assistant, Tyra Powers, was waiting. Tyra closed the door behind them. Angelina dropped her backpack next to a large leather chair that sat opposite the oversized desk and sat down, looking like an offending child about to be disciplined at the principal’s office. Tyra took the main chair and Lucy leaned up against the desk, the women looking down at Angelina. There was silence as the women eyed her cautiously.
“What’s up?” Angelina asked nervously.
“Seems you’ve had a rough week young lady,” Tyra said with a smile.
Angelina felt her tears coming, but restrained herself. “Yeah it’s been crazy.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were almost kidnapped and had your house burned down?” she asked, as if they could have magically averted the whole thing had they only known.
Angelina didn’t know how to answer the question — it seemed rhetorical. “I don’t know. I guess I thought my Mom would have told you, but didn’t think you needed to know all the details of the troubles I go through. I mean, you sent flowers — or someone did in your name.”
Lucy shot Tyra a look with a raised eyebrow. “Of course we did, but this complicates things here in many ways.”
“It’s not like it’s going to affect Sam’s life in any way,” Angelina offered.
“Oh, it does affect Sam’s life,” Lucy said assuredly. “You see Angelina, you have become the subject of quite some attention and this is something we can’t have. It’s not like we are not already hounded by the paparazzi enough as it is, but we have the security and organization to deal with it. You don’t.”
Angelina shook her head, not understanding why this was relevant. “I don’t understand.”
“Have you been following this in the press?” Lucy asked incredulously. “All having to do with you and your mother?”
“I saw some, but don’t follow it,” Angelina said quietly, lowering her head further, now really wishing this conversation wasn’t happening.
Tyra flipped the large Apple computer screen around so it was facing Angelina. She clicked on a window already opened to one of a hundred Hollywood celebrity gossip websites. Angelina’s jaw dropped and her eyes went wide when she saw her own picture under the headline OWL GIRL REVEALED. The picture was her in a bikini bathing suit from the Delia’s catalog released the previous year.
“Oh…my…Gawd!” she said and covered her mouth.
Tyra raised her eyebrows and began to unsympathetically read the article aloud.
The identity of the mysterious girl, who was the alleged victim of a kidnapping attempt in Griffith Park and reportedly saved by the miraculous intervention of a Great Horned Owl, has finally been revealed.
Angelina Russell, a fashion model 17 years of age, lived in the Hollywood Hills with her mother and attends the Immaculate Heart High School on Vermont. Just days after the failed kidnapping attempt, their house was bombed in a suspected retaliation. It was only through heroic efforts that she and her mother were able to escape the inferno alive. Rumors go undenied that Angelina has been disfigured and left permanently scarred from the attacks, both physically and mentally. The extent of her injuries is unknown at this time. She is currently living in protective custody and being shielded from even her closest friends. All requests for interviews and appearances have gone unanswered.
Her grieving friends pray for her each day as they worry the attacks, coupled with the loss of her father in a freeway accident last year, might have slid her into a deep depression from which she might never return.
“Her life has been turned upside down,” a close friend said. “We have been friends for so long and I have been there for her at every turn. I do hope she can recover, but I fear I might have lost her. It is clear she will never again be the Angelina we all knew.” The friend also spoke about Angelina’s love of hiking and swimming and told reporters that she recently broke up with her boyfriend, which will have only added to her trauma.
Angelina’s attacker, Malcolm Lyons, was arrested last night in an LAPD raid of a gang hideout. He is being held in custody without bail.
The article included photos of Angelina from her snowboarding trip last year. She realized immediately that the “friend” being quoted was Cassie!
Below the article on her was a photo of Lucy Curry from her last movie with the headline: Marital Disputes Threatening Lucy’s Career.
Angelina had overshadowed the Currys!
Lucy saw how distraught Angelina was to see her life being exposed to the world like this. “Hey, come on, that’s nothing compared to what they print about Thane and me,” she said, waving her hand at the screen and trying to make light of the situation.
“But I don’t want this attention!” Angelina blurted out.
Lucy shrugged, not seeing why this would be the case. “What did that kidnapper want from you anyway? I mean why target you? It’s not like your Mom has millions.”
“We think it was for my mom’s jewelry and some antique that reportedly is worth millions.”
“Hmm. Believe me, I know what lengths men will go to for stupid antiques. Thane buys meaningless things all the time. Just yesterday he spent a few million on some coin that is supposedly so rare the only other place you can find it is in some whatever Smith-something place.” She laughed and shook her head.
“You mean the Smithsonian, in DC?” Angelina asked.
Lucy shot her a glance, which told Angelina not to show her up. “Yeah, whatever. Now since when did you become a fashion model? Another surprise we didn’t know?”
Angelina rolled her eyes. “I’m so not a model, believe me. I got talked into accompanying a friend for an audition and they ended up giving me the part and since it was going to pay for us to take a snowboarding trip, I agreed. Nothing in me wants to be a model — not my line of work.”
Lucy seemed to take further offense to Angelina’s general undercurrent of disgust for the industry. “Well, for an amateur and a beginner, you’re not that bad.”
“Thanks,” Angelina shrugged.
Tyra crossed her arms and adopted her shrewd business-only attitude to cut to the point of the conversation. “Angelina, here’s the point: While this is going on and until it is long over, you aren’t going to be able to come here and be with Sam.”
Angelina’s jaw dropped again and she shook her head. “Why?”
“You have entered the media limelight. You are inevitably being followed and searched for. Your whereabouts are going to be found out about and if you are found to be associated with the Currys and especially with Sam, this is going to blow up so big, you will have no idea what hit you.”
“I already don’t have any idea what’s hitting me. Why can’t we keep things undercover as we already have it? I haven’t told anyone that I work here all these years. My Mom and I have kept it between ourselves!”
“We know how much this means to you and for Sam, but we can’t compromise when it comes to the security and the Currys’ public relations,” Tyra said, looking to Lucy for approval.
“I don’t understand,” Angelina said, thinking only about how this would crush Sam. He depends on me and with these doctors poking and prodding him, he needs me with him more than even his parents, she thought. “So this isn’t about Sam? You are already hounded by the paparazzi and photographed wherever you go, why should Sam be affected because I’m also in t
he news.”
“This is only till it blows over. These things are like bad weather. Give it some time and it blows over and the sun comes out and people forget entirely about the rain and thunder that passed.”
“So how long?”
Tyra shrugged her shoulders. “Kinda hard to tell and sort of up to you. You could take advantage of all this publicity, you know. Go on talk shows, tell your story, write a book. You’re very attractive and the nation would drink it up — ‘Young victimized Angel opens up her heart.’ You could make millions.”
Angelina cringed. “I’ve already made…” she realized telling them she had already made millions selling them a coin would be a mistake. “I’ve no need to make money and I don’t want any of this.”
“Well, whatever you do, you are forbidden to mentioning your connection to the Currys in any way or else you’ll be in serious trouble, as you know.”
“I’d never do that. You know you can trust me on that.”
“Yes, you have proven we can trust you.”
“So why can’t I be trusted to see Sam and keep it secret?”
Lucy spoke up, “It’s far too dangerous Angelina. You have no idea the extent these creepy people will go to find you and find out all about you. Your mom’s bank account and tax records and your trash will be all be searched. Your friends will be bribed and you’ll be followed. Thankfully the money you’ve been paid by us goes through an accounting firm so it can’t be traced to us. But you can’t be coming here for some time. And how long that will be is something I’ll decide.”
Angelina’s shoulders sank and she dropped her head. She had no argument and felt anything else she said would make it worse. “What’s gonna happen to Sam? I mean with these doctors?”
Lucy looked over at Tyra and there was a long pause. “He’s going to be fine. We’ve got the best doctors in the world working with him and they are going to do all they can. You shouldn’t worry about him.”
She spoke quietly, “I think he should be left alone. He’s fine as he is.”
“Thank you Angelina. I think I’ve told you before that I don’t need you to tell me how to handle my son.”
Angelina wished she hadn’t asked. Her grief turned to a rage inside her and she felt like screaming, but instead bit her lower lip and took a deep breath. How many times had conversations with Lucy gone like this? When Angelina raises her own children some day — be they obese, retarded, deformed or just normal—she decided long ago she’d love them for whom they are and allow them to be whoever they want to be. Lucy didn’t understand this — she was born with a stunning beauty that has made her a cultural icon and like royalty cultivating an heir, she expects her son to carry on her lineage. “You’re right, he’s your son and you can do whatever you like with him,” Angelina replied in resignation.
“Okay!” Tyra interjected and stood up before anything else could be said. “I think we’ve said enough. Charles will take you home. As we said, we’ll call you if we need you.”
As soon as she got in the SUV she turned on her cell phone and saw the several calls and messages she had missed, all from various friends. Two were from Cassie. She called her back and got her voice mail. She spoke into it.
“I can’t believe you sold me out to some trash slinging, sleazy, gossip website. And all for what — a few bucks? You have no idea the trouble you have caused me. I will never forgive you for this. You better return my clothes and jewelry and I don’t want to ever see you again!”
She hung up and crossed her arms in frustration.
“Quite a message to leave a friend,” Charles said solemnly.
“She’s no longer my friend.”
“No kidding. You’ve definitely made her your enemy now.”
“Whatever.”
Angelina was quiet the rest of the way home, brewing inside herself, trying to think a way out of the mess she was in. Her thoughts kept going back to Sam. Neil seemed trivial and irrelevant now, like a small child’s game. She felt a responsibility to Sam like a mother must feel towards her child and it tore at her that she was being kept from him due to circumstances out of her control.
She let herself into the Stanleys’ home with the spare key Lee had given her. The place was empty. On the kitchen counter was a message from her mom that she and Lee had gone down to the station to file some paper work and get reports she needed for the insurance claim. They would be home late and she and Neil could fix themselves something to eat. Angelina read between the lines that she and Lee were on a date and smiled to herself.
She wandered around the living room, inspecting various conversation pieces on the bookshelves and rummaging through a photo album filled with loose pictures — one of life’s incomplete personal projects. Somehow she felt like the Stanleys were already family as they were in many respects made for the Russells, filling a gaping void in their life. She had a hard time concentrating on the details in the photos as her mind continued to race on other thoughts. She needed to clear her head and try to get a grip on what was happening to her life.
She closed the album and went down the stairs to the ground floor. She went out on the back porch and sat on a deck chair, overlooking Glendale. The sun was on the other side of the mountain by now and she was thankful for the shade. Directly in the sun it must have been over 100 degrees.
The long view seemed to calm her, enabling her to feel like she could step outside her problem and view it from a more distant and rational perspective. She thought about how thousands throughout the city and possibly the world were right now discussing her name, viewing her photo, retelling various alterations of incidents. If what Tyra was saying was true, journalists and photographers were searching for her, digging up friends and records and looking for a glimpse of something that would satisfy the sudden thirst for personal knowledge that had been brought upon the people by her compelling story. Yet, here she sat outside an empty house, wishing she could talk to someone, share her feelings and try to make rationality out of the insanity that her life had become.
Neil was the first to arrive home in the middle of the afternoon and he found her sitting on the porch, looking out over the city. They made small talk, sitting there, hand in hand. She couldn’t explain the troubles with the Currys as it was confidential to she and her mother. She wanted desperately to talk about it with him and tell him everything she felt and what she wished she could do. She was sure he would be full of bright ideas and sound advice. Instead, they had to stick to things that her mind wasn’t on and this she found hard to do.
After she helped him prepare a quick dinner, he proposed they watch a movie. It was the right thing for her. She curled up in his arms and together they watched a romantic comedy starring Sandra Bullock. Neil watched in semi-boredom while Angelina laughed and cried all the way through. By the time it was over Angelina had created a small tissue mound on the coffee table. The spent emotions and warmth of Neil’s body had a calming effect and she felt herself relaxing for the first time all day.
Paula came home with Lee after a long dinner and drinks, appearing to have had a relaxing evening. She had kept her cast hidden under a light shawl and attracted little attention. Angelina helped her shower and get into her nightgown while explaining the details of the day at the Curry’s house. She and Paula discussed the events in detail, seemingly all out of their control. The news about Sam was the most depressing.
“That poor little boy,” Paula said, shaking her head.
“What should I do Mom?” Angelina asked, knowing her mother’s advice would be about letting the Curry’s do what they think is best and just accepting it.
“There isn’t anything you can do, Sweetie. He’s not your son. You have to remember that. His parents have every right to pursue what medical course they choose for their son and we can only hope it is with the best interests for the boy and that it is successful.”
“These people are monsters, though! They aren’t going to ‘cure’ him. They even tol
d me it was likely too late.”
“I know, I know. You told me all about it. Kids are put on psychotropic drugs by their parents by the thousands every day and who knows how many receive brain operations — it’s not unheard of.”
“In my craziest, most rebellious days you never put me on drugs.”
“No — I would never do that. I knew you would turn out okay. You were like an angel compared to me and my parents never gave me drugs. I had to outgrow whatever I was going through and learn from my mistakes.”
“So how do I get that through the Currys’ heads? Any time I mention anything it gets shoved back in my face.”
“Baby — it is best to not get involved and once this is all over on our ends and on their ends, maybe you will be allowed to go back to spending time with him and maybe he’ll be a different person. Maybe even able to see, who knows.”
Angelina hung her head, fighting back the feelings of utter frustration.
“Maybe, Sweetie, someday when you have a child, you will understand and it will all make sense to you.”
Angelina nodded solemnly and they climbed into the bed and turned out the light. They lay in the bed for some time, neither sleeping. After minutes had ticked by with neither having closed their eyes, Angelina looked over at her mother who was staring at the ceiling. “Mom, tell me what it was like to be pregnant with me.”
Her mom smiled, her eyes remaining fixed on the dark ceiling’s rough texture and shadows. “It was wonderful, Honey. It is a feeling that you can never truly describe. A mother is bringing to life another person and not any person, but one that is going to look like her and follow after her and…” she sighed, trying to find words to describe the feelings that had been brought back to the surface of her mind.
“When did you first know you were pregnant?”
“I knew the moment it happened. I didn’t even need to pee on a stick. I knew right when it happened.”
Angelina thought she already knew the answer to the question she asked next, but wanted to hear her mother say it. “Where were you when it happened?”
Her mother chuckled, a little embarrassed laugh. Then she was silent. A moment passed before she spoke again. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell you, but you have to promise me to never speak about this to anyone and you better not get any weird ideas from it either. I was a little out of control when I was younger and have a few regrets, you know what I mean?”
“Sure Mom. You’ve told me that before. I won’t tell anyone.”
“I remember the day like it was yesterday. The LA Riots started late April 1992 and there was chaos all over the city. Buildings were burning, gunshots were going off randomly, sirens were wailing nonstop, people were running through the streets and helicopters were buzzing overhead. Just nuts. Everything was nuts.
“I had gone to work at the jewelry shop, which had opened the year before and I was trying to get it off the ground. The riots weren’t nearby there at first, but then someone threw a brick into a neighboring window and nearby, gunshots were being fired. A fire was started in that Tai restaurant at the corner — you know the one we eat at occasionally — and I started to panic. Jeremy and I had been married for a few months and he was calling me nonstop to get out of there. I told him not to come get me as, being Asian, he was more likely to be attacked than I was. I closed up the shop and got out of there and drove all the way home with my head ducked low under the steering wheel.”
“Wow, Mom, this wasn’t the story I thought you were going to tell.”
“No, but it’ll make sense. When I got home we called friends, sat around the TV and waited. When the Dodgers announced they were canceling their weekend series with the Expos — which we had tickets to — Jeremy really got antsy.
“So, the next day, Friday morning — the first of May—we headed up the trail into the park, like you and Dad did so many times. We sat under that oak tree for hours, watching the fires burn across the city while helicopters buzzed over them. It reminded me of flies hovering over a dying animal. It was so sad. We didn’t want to go sit in our home and hunker down like the rest of the white folk were doing. We wanted to feel we were a part of it, like we were a part of the city’s pain, you know? We spent the whole day up there.”
“So you and Dad did it under the oak tree?” Angelina boldly asked.
Paula giggled and affectionately hit her daughter on the shoulder. “When you get married, honey, you will understand. Any minute away from your husband is torturous. Somehow the mood was right and after hours of talking, it happened. I don’t know. Like I said, I was a little out of control when I was younger.”
“So that was nine months before I was born?”
“Exactly. Strangely, I knew from that very day that you were with me. I could sense it, feel it. I knew and I didn’t know how I knew, I just knew. It was the weirdest and most secure and most amazing feeling. I knew you would be special. When I spent hours alone at home, I would sit there in the quiet, talking to you. And it wasn’t like I was talking to myself — I knew with certainty I was being listened to. Now, if I think about talking out loud like that, I would think I was weird or something or feel really strange. But, back then it seemed natural. Maybe that’s one of the things a mother-to-be goes through, I don’t know.”
Angelina was silent for a moment, digesting what her mother had told her. It made sense to her and answered questions she had had for a long time. “Thank you for telling me that, Mom,” she said softly. “It means a lot to me. I don’t remember it — I don’t think — but maybe one day I will.” Changing her tone, she turned over and accusingly asked with a big smile, “And on different matters, how was your date tonight, Mom?”
“Just fine,” Paula answered with a sheepish smile, “and how was yours?”
Angelina told her about the meal they cooked and the conversation they had and movie they watched. No detail was spared in describing how she felt about Neil, his charm, intelligence and sincere efforts to help her even though he knew nothing about the things that troubled her most.
Soon after they happily drifted off to sleep.