Chapter Five #2
She scoffed at the accusation. Of course David knew when she was faking normal. He knew her because they had been childhood friends, and lovers, before ever stepping foot beneath a huppah to become life partners. He had promised her forever and then betrayed her.
“Why do you even care, David?” She spat out the words, the headache making her lose all track of herself.
He blinked, as if confused by the statement.
And then, quickly, straightened his back and returned to keeping things as they both had promised each other .
. . professional. “I care because I’m the doctor on set here.
I need to fill out paperwork regarding your accident yesterday, and if you’re experiencing a continuation or worsening of symptoms, then I need to know. ”
“Well, then,” she said, crossing her arms against her chest, fully lying through her teeth, “you’ll be pleased to know I’m fine.”
“Fine?” he pressed her on it.
“Yep,” she said, and tried not to double over from the pain. “Totally and completely fine.”
He pressed his lips together and lingered on her eyes for a beat too long. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up. “If you say you’re fine, then I—as the only medical professional on this set—am going to take you at your word.”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
He turned to leave. But seeing his back—seeing him walk away from her again—caused rage to bubble up from her belly. She couldn’t help herself. The words exploded from her lips. “That’s right,” she shouted. “Just leave! Just walk away . . . like always, David!”
His feet dragged to a standstill at her words.
A loud exhale escaped his lips, and his shoulders slumped a half inch.
She wondered what would happen next, if he would turn to face her and lob his own nasty attacks.
Or perhaps her words had done what she hoped and hurt him in return.
She wanted him to be standing there, unwilling to face her because there were tears in his eyes.
She was so angry.
At him. At the universe. At herself.
He seemed just about to face the accusation when the elevator dinged.
Evelyn took her chance, escaping through the hatch, ferociously pressing the button to close it after her.
All too slowly, the doors began to shut.
In the privacy of that compartment, she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, grateful for a respite from her swirling pain and memories.
Grateful that, for once, David would know what it was like to have someone walk away from him . . .
“Well, that was heartbreaking.”
Evelyn jumped and screamed. Flinging her eyes open, she twisted in the direction of the tiny voice, coming from behind her.
An adorable little girl, not more than ten years old, was dressed up as one of their Victorian carolers.
Evelyn immediately assumed it was one of their child actors on her way to meet up with others for lunch.
“Holy—” Evelyn clutched her chest and quickly revised her wording “—Scrooge.”
The girl raised one eyebrow. “Did I scare you?”
“Of course not,” Evelyn lied, and quickly regrouped. She stood taller, projecting a haughty air of confidence. “I just . . . didn’t realize there was anyone here.”
“Oh, I’m here.” The little girl stepped off the back wall. “I’m totally here all right.”
The girl came closer. And then, in a move that was totally uncalled for, slowly clapped three times directly in front of her face.
Evelyn cocked her head sideways. Well, that was rude.
Also, Evelyn couldn’t help but think, for someone who hadn’t gone through puberty yet, this kid had a ton of attitude.
No doubt this elevator run would necessitate a call to someone’s agent.
“I’m sorry,” Evelyn said, returning to her role as executive producer, determined to get a name. “Who are you again?”
“You don’t recognize me?” The child smirked.
Evelyn ventured a guess. “Caroler number three?”
“Hah!” The little girl laughed. “Nope. Try again!”
“I don’t know,” Evelyn said, attempting to humor her. “An extra for Tiny Tim?”
“Not even close!” The young girl was quite pleased with herself. She smirked, and then, wiggling her hips along with her fingers, teased Evelyn directly. “But I’ll give you a hint. There’s eight of us. And we come bearing lessons, one for every night of Hanukkah.”
Evelyn tiptoed back. “You’re . . . the first ghost.”
“Technically, the second . . . if we’re counting Marla.”
This couldn’t be happening. Evelyn was certain she was in the midst of some delusion.
“Look—” the little girl shook her head, forlorn “—I realize this is a lot to take in—first heartbreak, and all that. But, having done this thing ten thousand Hanukkahs before, there’s nothing, at all, to be concerned about.
I’m just here to take you on a slightly uncomfortable, sometimes distressing but totally necessary trip into your past. It’ll be over before you know it .
. . In the meantime, however, you can just call me One. ”
Evelyn squinted. “One?”
“Like the number. Like how one person in this elevator is being crushed beneath the weight of their own loneliness.”
“Are you really serious right now?”
“As serious as a sad and lonely future . . . all by yourself.”
“I get the drift, kiddo.”
“Not even a damn plant.”
“You know,” Evelyn snapped at her, “you are very rude for a little girl.”
Evelyn crossed her arms against her chest and took a step back from the tiny demon.
She was still debating her own sanity when she became aware of two major facts.
The first was that she didn’t recognize this child as one of the members of the cast. She was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger.
The second and far more disturbing realization was that the elevator ride, which should have been short, was taking forever.
Her eyes wandered up to the electronic numbers above the doors. They were spinning erratically, circling through floors and numbers as if the entire building had stopped existing on some metaphysical plane. She had to admit . . . it felt more than a little ominous.
The elevator came to a standstill. Slowly, the doors began to open. She gasped at the sight, at the impossibility stretched out before her. Whether what she was experiencing was real or not—or warranted an emergency visit to David—was still to be decided.