Black screens and wooden men dance amongst one another in a crowded room. Once the curtain is called the room is barren and empty and nothing seems to stick, no one seems to linger.
"Do you know what love is about?
Do you want to know?
Do you think you have what it takes?
Call 1-800-LOVEME
For secrets waiting to be unveiled
This program is brought to you by..."
She turned the TV off.
"Why don't you stay?" she asked him.
She lay there still on the bed, wrapped in black satin, one arm behind her head, griping her hair. Watching as he stood up and buttoned his jeans, buckled his belt.
"I think I oughta go, sweetheart."
He put the cash on the mahogany table with the green bankers lamp on it next to the door.
"I'll call you here, like usual." he said.
"You know, you don't have to do that anymore." she said, as she slid the cash back to him.
"We can go get dinner. I know a place, it's not far from here. It has the leather booths and Formica tables just how you like it."
"I don't think I oughta stay tonight, sweetheart. Alice is gonna start to wonder where I'm at and all."
"Well why don't you call her. Tell her you won't be home for dinner, that you got caught up at work or something?"
He looked at her with increasing concern. He noticed for the first time that her eyes were hazel, not brown. He wondered if he ever even noticed if her eyes were brown the first time, or if he had just assumed. There was more to her eyes now than he had ever wanted to see.
"I don't need her asking any more questions. I don't need anyone seeing my car here either. Start wondering why I'm parked outside a motel every Tuesday."
"We're miles off the interstate. No one's going to find us here." she said.
He threw the cash back down on the mahogany table. She watched it fall perfectly centered beneath the light of the lamp. It shone brightly, intentionally. She couldn't pretend it wasn't there.
The keys hooked to his belt loop on his blue all American jeans jingled as he walked out the door abruptly, slamming it shut on his way out.
She stood up dragging the satin top sheet from the bed with her to cover her bare skin, and pulled the drapes open. She grabbed the remote and sat down on the suede chair. She turned the television on, and listened to the sharp screeching, sound. The large black screen cut instantly to a vibrant color image. It was late night talk show hour. An interview with the star of the latest film was on. Her skin glowed from the light and her lips were a deep, rosy red.
"You are from a small town in Minnesota, correct?"
"Yes, yes, only about a thousand people actually."
"So how did you make it all the way to Hollywood?"
"Well, a greyhound actually."
The audience erupts with laughter.
She turned the TV off again, and reached over to the mahogany table. The one with the bankers lamp, the only source of light now that the television was off. On it was a phone. She dialed a number.
"Is it you?"
"Yes, yes I am."
"You see, I'm calling to..."
"I'm calling to make the call."
There was a man on the other end of the line. He spoke softly and slowly in a deep voice. He proceeded to ask her:
"Do you know what it means when you call this number? Do you understand the agreement?"
"I do."
"Then you know what the price is?"
"Yes."
"Well then, we will have it arranged.".
Then she heard a clicking sound, the sound of the phone hanging up on the other line. She kept the receiver close to her ear, her fingers gripping it tightly. She heard nothing.
Then, "errrr—errrr—errrr—".
She listened to the sound of the off-hook tone in fear. Like listening to tornado sirens or bomb warmings, only with nowhere left to take shelter.
Then the line collapsed into a thin, droning hum. The continuous sound of electrical frequency.
The same hum appeared again, now from the flickering purple and blue neon lights of a sign that read STAR MOTEL buzzing in the distance, off a freshly paved state highway.
A man drove with two little girls in the backseats of his car, one about ten years old, the other was six. After a long day of driving, a highway sign read, "Exit 0.4 miles for Friendly New Accommodations". He took the next exit, the twilight hour sky was beginning to darken, and he began to see the bright neon's of STAR MOTEL appear before his vehicle. He turned on his signal and pulled into the parking lot.
"Alright girls! We've made it."
The girls had dozed off already in the back leather seats.
The father got out of the car and stepped into the motel office and bought a room for the night. He got the key and walked back to the car.
"Girls, wake up. You've got to help daddy bring the bags inside."
The girls yawned and groaned and climbed out of the car to help him.
He unlocked the door to the room and it was dark. He looked for a switch but there was none. There was only a small green bankers lamp next to a phone on a mahogany wood table next to the door. He pulled on the gold metal chain hung from it to turn it on. The room had a peculiar quality to it. The walls were a freshly pained yellow, and the carpet was a bright rosy pink color. There were two twin beds side by side in the center, dressed in rayon green plaid sheets and blue quilted blankets.
The little girls came crawling in, rubbing their eyes with fatigue as they carried their small suitcases. The eldest daughter quickly noticed in the corner of the room the small, rounded screen, encased in wooden cabinets, with a large set of rabbit ear antennas sticking out on top.
"Daddy, look, a TV!" the youngest daughter exclaimed.
"Dad, can we watch it?" the eldest asked.
The two were mesmerized by the novelty of the object. It was something she had only seen in store windows and friends houses.
"Alright, fine, you two can watch something. Only for a little and then you have to get to bed."
The older daughter turned on the power and as the screen slowly faded on, she turned the golden rotary dial, searching for a signal. Suddenly, in black and white, she saw the soft and sensual face of a blonde on screen. She was wearing a tight dress that came down to just past her knees, revealing the small of her waist and the curvature of her hips. She was captivated by the image of a woman dressed this way she had never seen before. She watched as the eyes of the men followed the woman. Whenever she walked, the camera followed slowly, capturing nothing but the woman walking across the frame, in silence.
The younger daughter, confused by what was happening in the picture, asked:
"Can you tell us where we are going now daddy?"
"Not yet, sweetheart." The father replied.
"Why don't you two get ready for bed, it's getting late. Each of you pick a bed."
He walked over and turned the TV off.
"But where are you going to sleep?" the eldest daughter asked.
"Don't worry about it sweetheart.".
The little girls put on their nightgown pajamas and got in the covers. The father sat on the orange suede chair in the corner of the room until they both fell asleep. Once he thought they were, he walked over to the door, placed the key to the room on the mahogany table, and turned out the light.
The older girl remained awake. She watched her fathers shadow stand there before the door. For a long while, he stood, like he was waiting for something to happen, for someone to come. She was scared and confused, laying in bed, in anticipation. She wondered why and how he looked so unrecognizable to her now, in the dark. How it could be that someone she thought she knew so well she maybe didn't know at all.
Then, something finally happened.
The door began to creep open, and next to the shadow of her father appeared the shadow of another man. The other man pulled something out of his back jean pockets. It was cash. She watched closely as the man handed the cash to her father.
Wondering why this was happening and what her father was going to do, she watched as the man came closer inside the room, and the shadow that remained of her father faded completely into the black of the night, and he was gone.
A sharp scream cut through the room.
"errrr—errrr—errrr—"
She placed the receiver back on the hook.
Looking around at the room, the nicotine yellowed walls, the faded pink carpet. The large, black television on top of the dresser. The dresser that was leaning over slightly to one side with age. The queen sized bed that felt out of character, surrounded by empty space. There was two rectangular spots on the carpet on either side of the bed that were brighter than the rest. Where two beds must have been before, because the carpet hadn't faded from the sun as much underneath. The suede chair she sat on, that sometimes appeared orange to her in some lights, as if it once was. And of course there was only one source of light in the room, other than the television. The classic green bankers lamp on the mahogany table, nestled right between her and the door.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in sweetheart, it's open."
It was a man who called that out from inside the room.
It was the middle of the day, the sun shone in through the window open onto the rose carpet. Every few minutes you could hear the cars driving past on the two lane highway nearby. In the corner there was a blueish silver space age style TV, it had a oval shaped screen and sat connected to a low table housing a speaker that played the afternoon soaps quietly.
She came in wearing a short, green crepe de chine dress, with white pantyhose underneath. Her heels were the same shade of green to match, and a green leather clutch purse hung from her forearm. Her hair was blonde and teased, flipped out at the ends.
She smiled.
The pearly whites in her mouth charmed and blinded him, as it did to millions around the world. She was quite the charming girl.
When he looked at her smile, it was just like the first time. In that smoky and crowded piano bar. The smell of bodies, liquor, and cigarettes. She sang behind the microphone. Her voice projected throughout the bar yet she was overlooked and insignificant amidst the rowdiness of drunks, cramped into bars on rainy Fridays. No one noticed her but him. Now the whole world noticed her. The question now was whether or not she noticed him.
"Why did you ask me to meet you here?"
She looked around at the decade old furniture and the tacky pink carpet.
"At this shithole?" she asked him.
"I packed the car all up, I thought we could go somewhere, just you and I." he said.
"You know I can't just leave, I'm working on a picture."
"Not to mention the fact you just bring this on me by surprise, with no notice, no conversation about this at all." she replied.
"This isn't a conversation. We're going and that's all there is to it." he said.
"This isn't going to work. You know, I've been biting my tongue with you for a while, but this really hasn't been working between us anymore." she said.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not coming with yo-"
He pulled her towards him,
"I'm leaving-" she tried to say as she struggled to remove herself from his tight grip.
"You're not going anywhere." he said.
She noticed his suitcase open on the orange chair. Her gaze followed a trail of clothes strung around until she noticed something hiding underneath a shirt that was draped over the mahogany table.
He threw her onto one of the two beds in the center of the room. On top of the pink cotton sheets he wished to see her under.
She rolled over and pulled on the shirt strung over the table to see what was hiding underneath.
The man reached over quickly to stop her, but she was holding the shirt and had pulled it away.
The two of them looked over at the table where a revolver sat illuminated by the green filtered light of the bankers lamp that sat above it.
He pulled his shirt that she held around her neck to stop her, and grabbed the gun.
"Get away from me-" she shouts.
"GET AWAY!"
She threw him off of her and onto the ground.
He pointed the gun at her from the floor, shaking.
"You won't do it." she said to him.
"You don't have the balls to kill me.".
Shaking, he dropped the gun from his hands. The woman picked it up and pointed it at him.
"I'm leaving." she said.
"You'll come back." he said to her.
"No. I'm leaving you for good."
"Get up and get on that bed." she said as she pointed the gun at him.
He pulled himself up and stood in front of the bed with his hands in the air.
"You can't leave me, I made you.". He said to her.
He looked at her and didn't move, because he knew his words could hurt her more.
She looked at him standing there like a fool, and thought about what he had said. She thought about what he had meant to her. The way he looked at her that night, and saw potential. But all she saw now was a weight. A reminder of her old apartment, her old clothes, her old name. One of the things she had forgotten to get rid of on the way out.
She put her little hand around the trigger, and then suddenly-
"BANG!".
She watched as the pink sheets became speckled with red. The sound of a single car drove by, and the low sound of a woman crying to her lover came from the TV in the corner. There was nothing else to say. So instead, she walked away, and smiled.
"Bszzz-", the sound of the television hissed as it was turning back on.
There was a knock at the door.
No cars were parked outside. Not many drove down this way, and the roads are rough and bumpy. They haven't been repaved ever since they built the interstate closer to town. If a car drove by it would have been quite noticeable.
There was a second knock at the door.
"Do you know what love is about?
Do you want to know?
Do you think you have what it takes?
Call 1-800-LOVEME
For secrets waiting to be unveiled
This program is brought to you by..."
There was a third and final knock on the door.
This time, she knew it was for her.
She wasn't ready.
She wrapped the black satin sheet around her like a dress, and opened the door.
There was a friendly, usher looking man in a suit and tie.
"It's time." he said to her with a smile.
He took her by the hand and the room began to slip away.
The walls started to expand.
The faded oranges and yellows and pinks began to flush with vibrancy, into the warm hues alike to sunsets she remembered watching as a little girl in the Great Plains, coming off the western horizon. As if it was a reminder of the possibilities that existed to her back then, somewhere out there, where the land meets the sky in a beautiful crescent shape. Where the moon sits still amongst the stars that twinkle, and even if you can't see it on a particular night, you know it is still there, and if you are lucky enough to catch her full, it exists in your mind as one of those unforgettable memories of melancholy, looking back with fondness for times of freedom, of bliss.
The single bulb in the lamp and the dancing images reflecting off the TV started to illuminate brighter and brighter, until the whole room burst out of thin air, in a singular flash of white light.
Then there was applause.
The long, black, silk train of her gown trailed behind her as she walked out onto a stage.
"Ladies and Gentleman, STAR MOTEL!"
Tears overtook her eyes. She cried before an audience of thousands. Rows and rows of wooden men stood up before her, giving her a standing ovation. Then she started to smile. The room was so full, and so was her heart.
Then you know the price my dear, of what it means to be loved.
She had made it.
In the radiant brightness of the stage lights, there is still always darkness beneath it.
The sound emerged from somewhere in the dark. At first it was just that low pitched humming noise, coming from the lights and the cameras, and the sign buzzing outside. Then you heard it. You heard a rustling in the audience, and then-
"ACTION!"
The door slammed shut.
Her body entangled in the black satin sheets, as if she was performing a dance, alone in the room, was now frozen in place, and in time. There was nothing else for her to say, or wish. Blood seeped through the black satin, and began to pool beneath her.
But you could still hear it. You could still hear the distant and unrelenting applause, coming from the TV in the corner of the room. You could still feel it. The sound absorbed by the carpets, echoing off the walls. You could still see it. On the screen, in the sounds of electrical frequencies, the lights of neon signs. You can still see her, smiling.