Falling Stars (28 page)

"So, she said no, she wouldn't zip up her skin. She sat there watching it stop and go until it finally just flowed and then she closed her eyes and waited. She knew that as soon as her body was permanently asleep, she could be off. She could be gone.
"And so she was, because when they found her body in the morning, she was already gone and they couldn't get her back."
"Look at her wrist," Rose said with a small gasp. "Is that scar what I think?"
"Yes, wait." Cinnamon said. She turned back to Gerta. "And when she was free, she came here?" Cinnamon continued,
"Yes, of course. She came home. But he was gone. too. His body was in the ground and he wasn't here to call her his Gerta Berta. She was happy and sad, happy and sad. I told her I would help her. I would always help her. Sometimes, she needed to be back in a body, you know."
"I think I'm getting sick," Rose said. "I don't know about y'all, but I think I want to just leave."
"Hold on. You don't know what this means yet," Cinnamon insisted. She turned back to Gerta. "So, you let her go into you?"
"Of course. She's my little sister. It wasn't her fault. What he did to her wasn't her fault."
"What did he do to her?"
Gerta's eyes grew small, suspicious. I felt my chest tighten. My heart was beating fast, but low, thumping like someone's fingers on a tabletop.
"She didn't tell you?" she asked Cinnamon,
"No. She couldn't do it. She said we should come to ask you."
"Poor Gerta."
"Right," Cinnamon said, "What happened to her? What did he do?"
"He made her his Gerta Berta. When she had nightmares and she went to him, he showed her how to forget them, but that wasn't nice. Her body lied again. Her body thought it was nice."
"Didn't she tell her mother?" Cinnamon asked.
"Oh, yes. Of course, my mother told her everything must be kept secret. Only whisper to yourself and never tell. Never
She looked about the room
.
"These walls are full of whispers, you know. They are like sponges, and if you press your ear against one hard enough, you can squeeze out some whispers."
"This is disgusting," Ice practically spit.
Rose turned away and hurried to the doorway of the living room, clutching her stomach.
Cinnamon stared after her a moment and then looked at us.
"You've got to transfer your fears, put your emotions into something constructive." she recited as if we were all training for a dramatic presentation. "None of us want to hear such things, but they happen."
"Let's get out of here," Rose urged from the doorway. "She's right. Cinnamon," I said. "What can we do for her?"
"We've got to do something," Cinnamon said with fury in her eyes.
She was remembering what had happened to her mother. I thought.
"Not tonight," Ice said. "Let's go. I've heard enough anyway." Cinnamon looked at me and I nodded.
"They're right. We should go."
"Okay. We'll come back to see Gerta," she told her. "Will you tell her that? Tell her we like her and we want to help her go shopping,"
"That's very nice." she said. "She'll be happy to hear that." She turned toward the wall on the right and just stared,
"Cinnamon," Ice urged, tugging at her arm.
Cinnamon backed up and we all started for the door. Just as we walked out. however. Nxre heard a door slam below,
"Oh, no. Madame Senetsky's back, or it's Laura Fairchild,' I said.
We froze and listened to the footsteps below. They were getting louder and approaching.
"Back out the window," Cinnamon said. retreating.
"But the door will be unlocked. She'll know someone came in here," I said.
"Or she'll think she just forgot to lock it," Cinnamon said. "C'mon. We don't have time to argue about it."
We closed the door softly and hurried back into the bedroom. Gerta was still sitting the same way, staring at the wall. She didn't seem to hear us. We went to the window. It, too, had been locked, so we had to open that and go out, closing the window behind us and hurrying off the landing and down the stairs to my room.
"Ms. Fairchild is going to figure it out," Ice warned as we all descended. "The door was unlocked and the window was unlocked,"
"Gerta could have done the window. Just keep cool and reveal nothing," Cinnamon fired back.
We stepped on the landing and
I
opened my window so we could all crawl in. Just as we did, the lights went on.
Rose cried out. I gasped. and Cinnamon and Ice turned with surprise.
Standing there with a big, fat smile on his face was Howard Rockwell.
"What are you doing in my room?" I cried,
He wasn't fazed at all. He stood there, cocky as ever with that arrogant smile, his arms folded over his chest, and leaned against the closed door.
"When I came home and found none of you about, I began to check your rooms. This was the last and just as I stepped in to look. I heard the racket on the fire escape and waited. So, what are you, a bunch of burglars?" No one spoke.
"You had no right coming into my room without my permission," I fired back at him.
"Really? And I suppose you girls have a right to climb the fire escape to the rooms above?" he asked, his eyes lifting toward the ceiling.
"This is trespassing," I charged. He shrugged.
"And what you're doing isn't? We were all told what was and wasn't off-limits here."
He shrugged.
"I suppose you could always tell on me. Ms. Fairchild and Madame Senetsky would call me on the carpet and I would have to describe this scene, I guess. Whatever you want. Maybe we should march down to Ms. Fairchild's quarters right now. What do you think?"
He started for the door, put his hand on the knob, and turned.
"Well?"
"You're a real bastard. Howard," Cinnamon said.
"Is there any other kind?' he countered. "So, what will it be, girls?" he asked after we all looked at each other. "Am I going to be brought in on this or do I have to conduct a more elaborate investigation? Is Steven in on it?" he added quickly.
"No. Steven is not poking his nose into our business. thank you," Rose said.
"That's his choice. I have more of an inquisitive mind. It's part of what makes me a good actor."
"No, what makes you a good actor is your ability to be two- faced," Ice said.
We all laughed. Howard's smile wilted.
"What's going on here?" he demanded. 'And don't give me any junk about Honey's love affairs."
The three of us looked at Cinnamon. She considered and then nodded.
"Okay, Howard. Well tell you all of it, but if you say anything to anyone else. you'll make big trouble for yourself as well as us, believe me," she warned.
He suddenly looked more worried than arrogant.
"So, if you still insist on knowing..." she continued.
"I insist," he said.
"All right," she said, and she began to tell him everything.
"
I want to see her' he decided when Cinnamon concluded.
Rose, Ice. and I sat on my bed and let Cinnamon relate the story. Howard sat in the chair and listened, looking from her to us every once in a while to be sure what she was describing was not something she was making up on the spot. Our glares, half angry, half interested in his reaction, affected him.
"You can't see her. Howard. As far as we know, they don't take her out of the house. They don't bring her downstairs, unless it's done very late when we're all asleep or something," Cinnamon explained.
"I'll just go up when you go up again," he decided.
"Who said we're going up there ever again?" Ice asked him. He smiled, looked from her to the rest of us, and nodded.
"You will. I can see it in your faces. Well," he said, rising and pondering. "I have to admit this is very interesting, more interesting than I had
imagined."
"If you do anything, say anything, we'll all get thrown out of here. Howard, including you, now that you know it all!" Cinnamon emphasized.
He shook his head. "I doubt it."
"Why?" I asked.
"From what you've told me, the last thing in the world our Madame Senetsky would want is this story leaked to the rag papers. No, if anything, should we be found out. I think we can expect the best possible treatment. Maybe we will make sure we're found out, in fact. Our careers may move faster than we all think." he concluded.
"You're sick. Howard. You're that ambitious that you would try to blackmail Madame Senetsky and use poor Gerta," Rose flared at him.
"All's fair in love and war, they say. and you've heard Madame Senetsky's speech about being in continuous battle, continuous competition. There are many, many talented people out there. girls. There are probably a dozen girls on this block and the next who sing as beautifully as you do. Ice. Go down to Broadway and look at the line of dancers competing for a Broadway opportunity, Rose. And the number of openings for positions in orchestras isn't exactly overwhelming. Honey. As for us. Cinnamon, you know what the competition will be like."
"Is this the great Howard Rockwell the Seventh or Eighth admitting he is not God's gift to the theater and therefore guaranteed to win the Tony Award?" Cinnamon quipped.
"All I'm saying is, when it comes down to it, whatever you can use to your advantage. you use. It's the same in every business, every field of work."
"It isn't for my father," I said. "We don't blackmail people to get them to buy our corn."
"You would if it came down to whether you would sell it or not," he insisted with confidence.
He turned to Cinnamon and glared at her with a face that could stop a charging tiger.
"You're going back up there very soon. and I'm going with you.," he said. "I want to see all this for myself. Then I'll decide what we should do, if anything."
"It might be impossible to get back up there. Howard," Cinnamon said, her voice revealing a certain degree of retreat. "If the window is locked and if we can't get up through Madame Senetsky's..."
"We'll find a way," he said confidently. He looked at the rest of us. "No one say anything to Steven. He's unpredictable," he said.
He turned to the door and opened it. Then he turned back to us,
"Isn't it nice how well we're all getting along? Trust. girls. It's all a matter of trust."
He laughed and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.
"How can someone so good-looking be so coldhearted?" Rose wondered.
"Didn't you ever look at a cobra? They're beautiful, but deadly," Cinnamon replied.
She started for the door. Ice and Rose followed.
"It's almost as if life is a series of stages, one curtain lifting to reveal another and then another and another," Cinnamon said. "Until you reach the final curtain, take your bows, and leave the stage."
"Hoping you'll hear applause," Rose added.
"Instead of boos and catcalls," Ice followed,
"Good night, sweet ladies, good night," Cinnamon said. We all hugged and they left.
I stood there alone, the whole evening ringing in my ears.
Later. after I had gone to bed and my head rested on my pillow, I turned toward my window and gazed out at the night. It seemed to me that a dark shadow flew by and up.
Gerta, I thought, returning to her body.
Surprisingly, the idea didn't chill me. It brought me comfort to know that even someone as desperately alone as Gerta could find a way home.
She wasn't there yet. Not yet.
Maybe we could help her, which in a strange and wondrous way would help us as well.

The following day it was impossible for us to concentrate on anything. I should say, with the exception of Howard, and of course Steven, who had no reason not to do his usual good work. All of us girls looked like we had slept on a bale of hay, whereas Howard looked as rested and chipper as ever. He seemed to take pleasure in our discomfort. too. I could see he liked having the upper hand, especially over Cinnamon, who didn't come back at him with her usual biting quips whenever he criticized one of us or ridiculed something we had said.

The only time we were all alert was when Ms. Fairchild appeared. She surely had discovered the unlocked door and the unlocked window in Gerta's apartment. Would she dare to interrogate all or one of us about it, since none of us had brought up any questions about Gerta or made any remarks? Or would she assume that Gerta had opened the window and she had left the door unlocked herself?

Her eyes, like some searchlight, moved slowly over our faces, lingering, it seemed to me, the longest on mine. I was usually uncomfortable with the way she looked at me as it was, much less now. knowing I was trying to appear innocent. Ice and Cinnamon especially, but Rose as well, were better at putting on their masks of deception. They had lived with and among people whom it was necessary to fool.

Rose often talked about Evan's aunt, how cold and cruel she was to him. He had shown her methods he often employed to confuse and deceive her, the best one being his manipulations of his own trust funds. Because of the way Ice's mother was, she often had to keep things hidden from her so she wouldn't take out her anger on Ice's father. Ice had even kept her pursuit of singing something of a secret from her. In many ways, she told us, her mother was competing with her, fighting age desperately and "practically blaming me for her gray hairs and wrinkles."

Cinnamon readily admitted many times that she had made lying and deceiving a science in her home and in her world. She described her grandmother as a tyrant in the house who had to be deliberately misinformed in order to keep the peace between her and Cinnamon's mother.

"Madame Senetsky is right." she once said with a bit of sadness in her voice, "we are always performing."

Well, if that was true. I knew I wasn't good at it. Trust was more than a word in my home. It was closely tied to love. And when Grandad was alive, any deception, no matter how small, was considered a crack in the moral fiber that made our fortress against evil and Satan that much weaker.
I
didn't think my nose would grow, but when I was younger, he had me convinced a lie breaks out like a pimple and is easily discovered. so I was not very good at being deceptive and conniving.