The lightning flashes and reflected in his deep green eyes. She stared
at him intently, watching his every move. "We made it." he said, looking
into the clouds. A smile crossed his face and he turned to her. The
mountains surrounding them were much higher than the one they were on,
but this one was an accomplishment for both of them. The world lay at
their feet. The wind blew, chilling them both to the bone. She wrapped
her coat around herself a bit tighter.
"Malcolm?" she asked, resting a hand on his arm. "Lets go"
"No." She turned questioningly back to him. "You were brought here for
a reason." He said, pulling something out of his pocket. At first glance
it looked like a naraled stick, short, dark, coiled around a dark blue
glass rod. The darkness in the rod evaporated as it began to glow. First
slowly, and then gaining speed at every second. The light captivated her
and she stared.
"Malcolm." she said, enchanted. As the light reached out for her, she
stretched out her hands to meet its beam. But the feeling she got was
not that of pure enchantment, it was that of pain, loss, and pure
emptiness. She screamed as the world around her went black.
"CUT!!" a voice came in the darkness. "What in Blue Blazes
happened?!?! Rollie!!!"
Rollie Tyler sighed as he listened to Anthony Rozario bellow into the
vast darkness. "Jolly." he said snidely. "Find out what happened Ange,
I'll go talk to Mr. Perfect over there." He threw up his hands in
frustration and started picking his way across sound stage seven. The
lights came up again and the set looked like a zoo. One of the costume
people had tripped, knocking over the cloths rack they had been leaning
on, and a camera operator had spilled his coffee on himself.
Jeremy Collins and Leanna Cheskus sat atop the mountain, squinting and
shaking their heads in confusion. Picking their way down the set, they
made it there only seconds after Rollie. He acknowledged the two stars
and turned to the disgruntled director. "I'm pretty sure that..." He was
cut off by Leanna Cheskus.
"I really hope this...." she cast a look in Rollie direction "Setback
won't cost us too much time. I'm tired. I'm going to my dressing room."
Ange showed up at that moment and Leanna sent an evil glare in her
direction. "Fix that thing by tomorrow." and as though that was the say
all and end all, she walked off the set.
"By George Rollie! Do you have any idea how much this is going to set
us back? Have it fixed by morning or find another place to work. You've
sent Leanna of on a rampage...." he went to say more, but stopped and
collected himself. "That's it folks! I'll see you tomorrow at 8! Be on
time!" He looked back at Rollie and Angie and stormed off to their left,
leaving them in his wake.
* * * *
"The most I can figure," Angie Ramirez said from her work station at
the back of the van, "Is that somehow, water got onto the metal plates
in Leanna's gloves. The water must have created a surge that went down
the line to the fuse box and...."
"Pow! The lights went down." Rollie Tyler finished his young assistants
sentence. He pulled the van into the alley way leading to the studio and
parked. Pulling the doors open, he took the two boxes Angie was
carrying. She locked up the van and nearly slipped in the newly fallen
snow. The world was white and soft and feathery. She turned around the
nose of the van and ran into Rollie's back.
"What is it Rol?" she asked, peering over his shoulder. In front of the
door stood a girl, no older than seventeen, wrapped in a jean jacket.
She was shivering in ripped jeans and a flannel shirt, and the shoes on
her feet looked older than Rollie. He'd only been outside two minutes,
and he was already cold.
"Can we help you?" Rollie asked, taking steps toward her. She pulled
back defensively, and Rollie raised his hands in a show of peace. Her
dark brown hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, but pieces still
fell in front of her eyes. She looked like a pure brunette version of
Angie, only younger. The tall Australian cast glance at his assistant to
make sure that this girl wasn't actually her. Angie must have noticed it
too, because she looked a little paler.
She looked to Angie and stepped toward her. "Angela Ramirez?" she asked
quietly, as though her vocal chords were frozen. She flicked a piece of
hair out of her eye and looked back to the tired film worker. She had
startlingly green eyes, that almost looked self illuminating. One of
them was surrounded with a purplish bruise that looked as though it had
been healing for a few days.
"Ya...." Angie said Cautiously. "Why?" The girl relaxed slightly. She
offered Angie a hand.
"Morgan Ramirez. Tu no concas mi."
* * * *
The phone rang at Midtown south and Mira warily picked up. "Sanchez."
the response was terse, if only to avoid more false alarms. It hadn't
been a good day, and a call three minutes before she got off meant more
hours of hours and paperwork.
"Hey Mira!! It's Rollie. Look, I need a favor." she groaned audibly and
sighed.
"What is it this time?" she asked the Australian cautiously. "Dare I
ask?" what could possibly go wrong this late at night. Doesn't he
believe in sleep?
"Well you see..." he paused. "Maybe you should come down and see mate,
it would be a tad easier than explaining over the phone."He said, almost
pleading.
"Alright alright... I'm on my way."
"Thanks Mira. You're a pal." and with that he was gone.
Good Lord Above, she thought, deliver me from Rollie Tyler. She picked
up her bag from her desk and headed for the door, silently terrified of
what she would find when she got to the studio.
* * * *
She wasn't prepared for what greeted her when she got to the studio.
The van was parked outside, with lights on, and there were muted voices
coming from inside the loft. She was nearly at the door when a head
stuck out the window of the van and called her name.
"Hay Rollie, What's going on?" She asked, motioning toward the door,
"Did you get kicked out? Who's in the middle of the cat fight?"
"I'd love to be inside mate, but Ange is...well...." he paused, looking
for words, and then motioned Mira inside. "When Ange and I got back from
the set today, there was someone waiting for her." he directed the
detective to the computer console Angie was working at earlier. There
were names, and a few lines connecting them. "It's a family tree."
Rollie explained. "It starts following the line of people back to
Angie's grandfather, who had an illegitimate child, who got married and
then had children who got married and had children of their own." He
followed the line and met with Mira's confused gaze. "The girl in there
is claiming to be Ange's cousin. I've been following up on this in the
data banks, and it looks as though she's right. I can trace it back to
the Morgans parents."
"Morgan?" Mira asked, trying to understand.
"Ya, Morgan. That's the girls name. Well the name she gave Ange."
Rollie turned back to the computer screen and began following databases
again.
As the subject was cleared up, Miras expression turned from that of
confusion to that of shock. "Cousin?" she said, more in a confirmation
than a question.
"Or so she says. They're talking now." Rollie stopped her from walking
directly in. "Careful, her and Angie have been trying to communicate,
but Ms. Morgan Ramirez doesn't seem to speak any English. That's why we
need you." As he pressed the link button, he saw the whole family tree.
He blew out a breath of air and leaned back in his chair. "They are
related." The two of them walked from the van, locking it again, and
toward the brewery.
As they stepped inside, both Angie and the girl, now wrapped in a
blanket, stood. There was an awkward moment when no one said anything
and everyone was thoroughly uncomfortable. That was broken as Morgan
threw down the blanket and went to leave.
"Yo no debo venir aqui!" she said, looking from Rollie to Angie for
understanding.
The Fx specialist threw up her hands in exasperation and sunk down
into the sofa again. Resting her head in her hands, she sighed. "I don't
understand. It's hopeless." Ange said and again threw her hands in the
air. She knew that this girl was in trouble, but she couldn't tell why
or from who. She didn't know who had given her the black eye, and she
didn't know why she had come here now. To her surprise, Mira answered.
"Porque no?!" Mira said, looking at her. Rollie and Angie exchanged
understanding glances but let Mira work this one out on her own. The
girl looked to Mira, shocked.
"Hablas-tu espanole?" her hair fell over her eyes in such a way that
she could see, but no one could see her. She stuttered for a moment,
then looked to Mira for a response.
"Con flurdez" Mira answered, smiling. She turned to Rollie and Angie's
confused glances. "She asked if I spoke Spanish."
"Is she okay?" Angie asked, nearly tripping over her own feet to stand
beside Mira. She was kicking herself for not realizing that she could
have called Mira.
"Why is she in trouble?" Rollie asked.
"Estas- tu contento? Porque viene usted aqui ahora?" After a short
conversation, Mira turned back to the two anxious artists.
"She says there's someone after her. She came her from Spain a year
ago, and you are her only family. She was shoved on a plane with a paper
that said ‘Angela Ramirez, New York city' and that family tree. She
doesn't know who's after her or why." Mira summarized. Rollie had turned
up the heat, and she was getting hot. The detective shrugged off her
blazer and threw it on the counter. There was a long and awkward pause,
until Morgan began to speak again.
"Puis, que pasa ahord?" she looked to Mira, and after asking her a few
more questions, looked hopefully at Angie. Mira turned her translation
to Angie and Rollie.
"She doesn't want to impose, so if you want, she'll leave. But she
wants to know if she can stay here for a while. She has nowhere else to
stay." Morgan started to speak and Mira provided a running commentary.
"She says it will only be for a while, and she's offering to do all your
housework and chores, anything." with that Mira chuckled, and, at Angies
request, translated the cause of the laughter. "Please Cousin Angie?"
Angie blushed and told Mira to tell Morgan that she'd discuss
everything with Rollie. While the two artists discussed, Mira poured
herself a cup of tea, and Morgan rested her head on the counter beside
the detectives blazer. Mira watched the Spanish girl closely. She
fiddled with the ragged coat and scarf she wore, and she kept brushing
the hair out of her eyes, avoiding the blackened one.
Her story made sense, but something about it bothered Mira. Deciding it
would be easier if she wrote it down, she retrieved a pad and paper from
her blaze pocket. As she was doing this, her badge fell to the floor.
The moment Morgan caught sight of that, she backed up in fear. With
eyes bigger than saucepans, the girl headed for the door faster than
Mira could think. As soon as Angie and Rollie knew what was going on,
they were on their feet.
But it wasn't any of them who stopped her. "Well ‘ello there mate!
Where are you headed in such a hurry?" As Dingo helped the fleeing
Morgan to her feet, she struggled and protested.
"Let me go!" she stopped suddenly and clasped her hands over her mouth.
She saw Mira step towards her and turned to run, but only ran into Dingo
again.
Mira looked at her with realization in her eyes. "So you do speak
English. Why were you running from me?" The detective said turning the
girl toward the sofa and sitting her down. Dingo walked over to the
stools at the counter and sat down, watching the scene with a great deal
of interest.
Rollie was about to ask why he had come, when he was cut off. "Deal with
this Fire cat first." The older Tyler suggested. He left the situation
completely in the hands of his son, his friend, and the detective.
The girl sat, indignantly silent, arms crossed in front of her.
"Alright then." Mira announced,
"I can wait." The detective paced back and forth in front of the girl,
who didn't move a muscle. Mira crouched down if front of the girl,
questioningly. After flicking a piece of hair out of Morgans eyes, she
stood triumphantly. "Grace Sorenson." This time it was the girls turn to
protest.
"Hay!" She stood up abruptly. "How...." she let the question trail,
open-ended.
"I could never forget those green eyes. You were brought down to Mid
Town South a year ago for car theft. I saw you pass by on your way out.
Where's your friend?" ‘Grace' as she had just been identified was filled
with fear, and then fierce pride took over. Mira didn't realize what was
happening until it was all over, and Rollie and Dingo were standing over
her.
"What happened... Hay! Where is she?" Mira tried to stand, and then
realized she was lying on the floor. Her head was throbbing, and
everything was kind of fuzzy.
"She tripped you mate." Dingo interjected into her thoughts. "You fell
and hit your head on the floor. Then she jumped over the back of the
sofa and ran out the front door. You alright?" He asked cautiously. He
offered her a hand and helped her to a seat on the sofa.
"Where's Angie?" Mira asked, getting her bearings back.
"Angie chased her out the door. You were only down a minute, maybe
less. How are you feeling?" Rollie asked, making sure there was no
permanent damage to his friend. He turned to the door as Angie ran in,
out of breath. In her hand she held a ripped jean jacket, that was
covered with snow.
"She got away."
* * *
*
Mira had said she wouldn't be back. And after two weeks it looked as
though she was right. The snow had turned to rain and the temperature
had stayed above zero since. They had finished the shoot they were on
with no more flaws, and celebrated the rewards. The only hint of her the
girls existence was seen in Angies haunted eyes. She had been fearful at
first, and then just confused. Rollie continued watching her, just to be
sure that she was alright. Angie had continued to let her attention
wander long after the ordeal was over. To be honest though, Rollie had
no idea how he would have reacted if "Grace Sorenson" had claimed to be
his relative. Knowing his family, he probably would have just laughed
and welcomed her in.
This morning, Rollie had gotten a call about a new movie being filmed
in New York, and he had a meeting with the producers at three that
afternoon, to see if he could do what they wanted. He was just sitting
down with a cup of Earl Grey tea, when Angie came in on her
Rollerblades.
"Ange are you nuts? It's pouring out there." He said standing up and
walking to her.
"Ya, well.... It wasn't raining that bad when I left." She took off the
blades and backpack, and then went searching for the first aid kit.
Gingerly taking off her coat, she first looked through the hole in the
sleeve, and then at her elbow.
"Geez Ange, what happened? You're a mess!" He walked closer and took a
look at what had looked like a paint smudge on her chin. "Did you fall?"
"Ya.... I kinda hit a stick on my way here again. I got half way here
and then realized I forgot my backpack. I got my knee too!" she showed
him her knee and then proceeded toward the stairs. "I'm just going to
go fix this up. I'll be right back." He watched her up the stairs, and
as she reached the top, he called her.
"Ange?"
"Ya Rol, what?" She turned back to him just in time to catch the keys
that came flying at her. "What are these for?"
"Take a day off Angie. It's been raining since three this morning. It
was raining when you left this morning. You've been missing things. Take
a break." Rollie said, almost pleading. Angie stared at the keys in her
hands and then nodded.
"Thanks Rol." walked down the stairs again, and Rollie watched her
leave.
* * * *
Angie put the groceries down and slid the key into the lock. Turning
the key, her heart skipped a beat when she found the door wasn't locked
Calm down!! She scolded herself. You've been forgetting stuff all week!
Rollie even said so. She stepped into her apartment and was shocked to
see that it had been ransacked. It shocked her even more when she
realized the ransackers where still there. Panicking, she turned and
ran, stumbling over the groceries. She pressed the button on the
elevator, and getting no immediate reaction, ran for the stairs. She
heard the muffled shouts of people yelling behind her. Heart racing, she
pushed into the stairwell, and had made it two flights before someone
tackled her at the ankles. She fell, dragging her assailant after her.
When she stopped, her head was still spinning. She groggily looked up
and saw a fist, and then the silver glint of a knife, and then nothing.
