Chapter Five
Tracy’s perception of Tweedy Pines shifted now that she had the freedom to leave anytime she wanted to. She no longer viewed it as a prison sentence that she needed to endure and thought, instead, that the place was lucky to have her there. In the first few days back on the campus, almost every interaction she had was shaped by the fiction that her parents were dead, and her secret knowledge that they were alive transformed her experience into a farcical dream.
Her roommate Bethany Madher told her, “Hey, my mom really liked your mom. She says you should come over and hang out at the house.”
Tracy nodded, “Sure, that would be a good change of pace.”
Bethany texted her mom. Every girl on the campus had a cell phone, though the school had a policy against it. It seemed one of the important jobs of Tweedy Pines was to teach the girls that rules were for other people. The school had too many rules, silly rules about everything, and this actually forced the girls to break them all the time. Moreover, several of the girls on the campus were above the rules and actually untouchable.
Tracy found the topsy-turvy nature of the place, where the children of wealthy parents outranked the staff and teachers, very unappealing. Many of the girls in the school had been in private schools their entire life, and their families were members of the same clubs and organizations. The obsession with hierarchy and pecking order pervaded the entire school. Tracy couldn’t stand it.
Bethany’s family was in the rarefied heights of wealth and social rank, and her mother’s status as a popular celebrity made Bethany one of the members of Tweedy Pines royalty. She dealt with her status by ignoring the school as much as possible. She said, “C’mon, the driver is here.”
Tracy followed her out to the car. They had classes during the day, but most of the time Bethany didn’t go.
“Hey Joe, what up?” Bethany said to the driver as she climbed into the back of the white SUV. “Hey, can we stop at Whole Foods? I want to get some of those dried pea pod things. Yummers.”
“Sure thing, Miss Bethany.” Joe said. He was a middle aged man with gray and white hair and a heavy face.
“Joe. Stop it with the Miss stuff. I feel like Penelope Moneybags when you do that.” Bethany rolled her eyes. “Hey, this is my roomie Tracy Wells.”
Joe looked in the rearview, “Hello Miss… er I mean hi Tracy.”
Tracy waved at him. Bethany’s face was glued to the screen of her cell phone. Bethany apologized, “Tracy. My fam’s weird. Sorry for all this... stuff.” She waved around the car. “The house, you’ll find out soon enough, is like a fucking museum. It’s embarrassing. Joe’s a nice dude, but, like my Mom or Dad can’t just come pick me up? If we had a dog, they’d pay someone to pet it!”
They stopped at Whole Foods and the girls went inside while Joe waited in the car. Bethany loaded up a shopping basket with savory snacks and they left the store with a few bags full. Bethany gave Joe a bag of the crisps.
“Thanks, Bethany.” he said. They were his favorite.
“Don’t mention it. These are better than money on the inside. Now, we won’t end up as anyone’s bitches.” She smirked at Tracy.
“Please, Bethany, you know that language makes me uncomfortable.” He said.
“Such a thin skin! You wouldn’t last for a minute on the inside.” Bethany said.
The Madher’s mansion was in an old neighborhood in Shaker Heights. The house had a smooth stone facade and gothic spires and windows. The stones of the front walkway were from an old Roman Road and it led through a sculpture garden to the glass and wrought iron front doors. Bethany took Tracy a few steps off the path.
Bethany whispered, “Tracy, my dad’s weird. He can be a real creep. I mean a real creep. He’s home, now, just avoid being alone with him, alright? If you end up in a room with him, alone, just leave. Act sick or whatever.”
Tracy nodded and screwed up her face, “Wait, what do you mean?”
“He’s a gross perv.” Bethany said.
“Did he do anything to you? Does your mom know?” Tracy hissed. She was starting to be worried about what she was getting into.
Bethany shook her head no. “No, not me. Other girls. I’m not sure what happened, exactly.”
Tracy couldn’t tell if Bethany was pulling her leg or acting out a scene of some TV show or movie. “Are you serious? Don’t kid around about this shit!”
They continued on to the house. “Unfortunately, I’m not kidding. I really don’t know what happened, but he’s just weird, you’ll see.”
The Madher’s house was like a museum. Money had been piling up in the family’s businesses, private accounts, foundations, and charitable causes for generations, and a small fraction of the cash was converted to artwork and furnishings. Tracy looked around the foyer of the house and realized it was probably worth more than the entire Wells Farm.
The floor of the house was tiled in a dark charcoal black and dark black checkerboard marble. Thick handwoven rugs linked all the rooms and prevented the place from being an echo chamber. Bethany took Tracy to a room that was encased in stained glass. “Check this shit out. These were not humble people.”
The family history was enshrined in art deco stained glass murals. There was a little caption in the glass on each pane. Tracy started to read, but Bethany got bored. “It’s all a lie, you know?” Bethany said.
Tracy was surprised. “Which part?”
Bethany said, “The whole thing. I mean check out this dude,” she pointed at one of the figures. It showed a bearded man in shirtsleeves wielding a hammer against some stones and steel girders apparently building a factory. Bethany continued, “I guess he’s a great, great grand-daddy. Here he is building this factory with his sleeves rolled up. I studied the history. Not one of these people built a thing. Accountants and finance people at best, mostly just there. I couldn’t ever figure out where the money came from.” She shrugged.
Tracy grunted in vague agreement and looked around the windows. “So why lie about it?”
Bethany said, “Cuz it sucks to be so lame. Dad’s the same way. It’s like all the money prevents him from actually doing anything. He doesn’t know how.”
Tracy wondered, “But I thought he was down in Florida on a biology expedition. That sounds cool.”
Bethany rolled her eyes and said, “It’s all just an act. Always pretending to be doing something other people actually do. It’s life as a pile of digits. You’ll see it if you’re here enough.”
Heather Madher was wearing an exaggerated 1970’s style flamingo pink jumpsuit with bell bottoms. “Oh precious Baby!” She hugged Tracy tight and sniffled against her shoulder. “Your mom. I was just getting to know her better. A remarkable woman.”
Tracy thanked her and said, “It still doesn’t seem real to me.”
“If you need anything, I’ll do my best to help out.” Heather said. She clasped a hand to her chest and her costume jewels clanked.
Tracy said, “My Uncle’s taking care of me, now, but thanks.”
Heather wiped her eyes. “That’s good. Family is so important. You and your Uncle should join us for Thanksgiving. I’ll send you invites.” Heather threw an arm around Bethany and Tracy and they walked into a sun room. The wan light of late autumn filtered through the picture windows. Heather whispered, “It gets so dark in this castle. Can you imagine the people who had this built?” She got into character. “I say, good man, make it dark and dank as a proper castle. Can you make sure there’s a spot for bats?” She shook her head. “Good lord!”
They heard Charlie’s voice. He was talking with an entourage just outside the door. The meeting broke up and he walked into the room. Bethany elbowed Tracy. She partly expected a monster, or a man with devil horns to walk in through the arch, but Charlie was a normal man, with an unremarkable face, wavy brown hair, a casual sweater and khakis.
“Beth! Sweetheart!” he put his arms out. Bethany walked across the room and hugged him. “Is that Tracy?” he a
sked.
Tracy said, “Yes, sir. Nice to meet you.”
“Call me Charlie. I am so sorry to hear about your parents.” She scanned his face for any sign of perversion, but saw nothing. His eyes were just expressionless. He gave Heather a hug and a peck on the cheek. “Beth, did you give Tracy a tour?”
“Just the chapel.” Bethany said.
Charlie said, “Why don’t you show her around before you go?”
Tracy asked, “Go?”
Heather said, “We’ll head over to the soundstage for a while. Won’t that be fun?”
Bethany answered, “Yes, the soundstage is cool!” She was genuinely enthusiastic. “Let’s go do a quick tour.” She trotted out of the room and Tracy followed.
She led Tracy through the first floor of the house to a flight of stone stairs that led down into a basement. “I’ll spare you the home tour, but you have to see this room.” She trotted down the solid stone steps. They were cupped from many feet descending them for many years. Bethany said, “Check this out.” A stone archway was framed by a snake eating its tail.
“That’s pretty interesting.” Tracy ran her fingers over the stone. The doors into the room were black, shiny polished ebony laminated onto oak slabs. Bethany pushed the doors open.
The floor was composed of the same black and charcoal marble, but the seams were inlaid with a shiny metal and the arched ceiling had a flat, dull, and scaly appearance. Four stout black bookcases stood at the cardinal points of the room and a black stone pool was in the center. Bethany asked, “Isn’t it weird? Dad has meetings down here sometimes and they close off the basement from the upstairs.”
Tracy agreed. “Yeah, this is a really strange room. Some people like this gothic shit, though.”
Bethany said, “Yeah. All the drama, I guess. Let’s get outta here. The soundstage is cool.”
They ran back up the stairs and found Heather. She was packing up a gym bag and putting a few bottles of water in holders on the sides.
Joe drove them to a building in one of the dilapidated inner ring suburbs of Cleveland. An unremarkable warehouse building had been converted to a soundstage. Catering trucks and stars trailers parked in the lot were the only thing that gave it away. The logo of a defunct company was still on a sign in the front yard. “Gallows Cabinets and Interiors”
They walked into the building through an open garage door in the back.
A tall blond woman approached them. She looked angry.
“You bitch! How dare you show your face here again? Do you think you’re a queen just because you’re from money?”
“You!” Heather shouted angrily and pointed emphatically. “You! So self righteous just because you had to work to put yourself through college and take care of your poor, dear, sick mommy. So pathetic!”
The woman reared a hand back to slap Heather. She swung violently, but Heather blocked the blow and then gripped her wrist. The woman said, “She’s your mother, too!”
Heather sobbed. “My mother? That makes us…”
“Twins…” the woman said. They embraced, then started laughing hysterically at Tracy’s expression.
Heather’s eyes got big, “We should do a switcheroo. Can you mom these two? I’ll be you today.”
Bethany was grinning. She joined in on the act and hugged the blond woman. “Mom! I missed you.”
“Oh dearest Bethany!” The woman hugged her and kissed her. “How are you doing in school? Who is your friend?”
Tracy decided to join in, “I’m Tabitha. I’m an exchange student from Canada.”
Bethany said, “She’s OK, but she stole my boyfriend at the big dance.”
Tracy said, “And I didn’t even really like him, but I’m just such a bitch.”
The blond imitated Heather’s voice and mannerisms. “I’ll just have to get you two parts in this production. Charlie can pull some strings.”
They took seats near the center of the warehouse. Bethany said, “This part is sooo boring. It takes forever for anything to happen. Then they do it over and over and over.”
The blond woman continued in her role as Heather. “I’m going to do a big scene today. There I am.” She pointed at Heather. “They just finished this set last night. See the camera gantry. It’ll fly over the room then spin around and around through the wall. Thus the push-up bra to show off my rack. My tits aren’t really that big. But they’re nice.” She broke character. “I’m Meg, by the way.”
Tracy said, “Hi Meg. I’m Tracy. I go to school with Bethany.”
“My cellmate.” Bethany added.
There was a lot of activity all of a sudden and Heather walked onto the set and took her mark. She was still wearing her street clothes. The crew was blocking out the shot and she rehearsed her movements and timing. Some dramatic music played each time to help her keep the correct rhythm. After a few false starts, they attempted to put the entire scene together. The heavy camera platform orbited through. The whir of the electric motors was surprisingly loud.
“How do they keep all that noise out of the movie?” Tracy asked.
“This scene is no dialogue, all background music. Basically she’s eye candy, or maybe like a human art work. She’ll be all dolled up and in costume. It’ll take four or five hours to do this, and it might last thirty seconds in the film, or end up completely cut out.”
Tracy said, “Wow, that’s a lot of work for just thirty seconds!”
Meg said, “Speaking of work! Can you believe they’re changing my entire character? Now I’m Russian, have a Russian accent, and am the bad guy, but I think we’re still twins separated at birth. This is like the third rewrite! I’ll brb. Just be good once they start filming. Mute your phones and stay put, capiche?”
The girls both nodded. Tracy said, “This is pretty cool.”
Bethany said, “The people are cool. The whole process is dull, dull, dull. I had a scene in one of my Mom’s movies last year. I sat around all day--I mean literally a full day. I said my little line and did my little bit part. We watched the finished movie and the scene wasn’t in it.”
Tracy grunted in amazement. “I never knew it was like this.”
A voice boomed out on a PA system. “Quiet on the set. Places. Close that garage door, somebody…. OK. Go.”
Heather started to pose and hit her marks. She looked like a model on a catwalk. The robotic camera gantry whirred out over the room and the gantry arm arced toward the floor and the big camera rotated to keep Heather’s body in the center of the frame. Tracy and Bethany could see the images it was capturing on a big flat screen monitor. A group of people huddled around the monitor and camera control board.
The camera stopped suddenly. There was a murmur of activity. The director shouted out. “We need to move that mark, right where Heather’s standing now, back about six inches, let’s do it again!”
Tracy was extremely bored by the time they were on the fifth cycle through the scene. They now had it all blocked out and Heather went to change into her costume. Her stand-in walked through the scene to help them refine the camera motion further.
“Oh my god. I think I’ll chew my hand off from boredom.” Tracy mumbled.
“Yeah, it’s boring.” Bethany sighed. “I want to see mom in her costume once, then we can head out of here.”
Heather wore a skimpy black dress with a white bar down the side. She had tall spike heels and held a prop gun. Her hair was teased out into a modern looking version of a beehive hairdo. A small team of makeup people primped her until the last minute. Then they filmed the scene a few times, making small adjustments to the lighting, to her costume, and her makeup.
At a break in the action, Bethany texted her Mom. “Great job! We’re bored. Leaving.”
“Wanna go back to Tweedy?” Bethany asked.
“Sure. I guess so. That was cool. Thank your mom for me.”