Tales of the Ragoon, Kate's Movie Star (6 page)

Sadly, she looked through her meager
collection of dresses and skirts. She really needed to update her
wardrobe, she thought. She found a blue skirt and a white blouse
that wasn’t too wrinkled. Runyon drove her to school, even though
she insisted that she could ride the bus. As he was dropping her
off at the parking lot on the south side of the high school, he
seemed to look at her oddly.

“Have I got something on my face,” she
demanded.

“No, you’re fine,” he said.

He hesitated as if he had something more to
say, but then he shrugged.

It was her first official day as a senior.
There were no upper-class men or upper-class women above her. She
noted with pity (and a little smugness if the truth be known) the
bewildered stares of the freshmen class. Kate was not in the
popular crowd, but neither was she a pariah. She was just an
average senior girl who was looking forward to her last year. Next
year, she was hoping to go to Merced Community College.

She didn’t have a lot of friends, because she
didn’t socialize all that much. Her responsibilities at home at
always precluded that. She couldn’t remember the last time that she
had gone to a party. But she didn’t have a lot of enemies either.
Well, not exactly. There were a couple of girls in the popular
crowd who seemed to enjoy picking on her. But Kate could usually
dish out as much as she got.

Her first class was Creative Writing in
English. She liked that class, and she liked the teacher. She liked
math and history too. Social Studies class wasn’t bad. She didn’t
care for Biology or Chemistry. Guiltily, she thought about the
Spanish class that her father had wanted her to take. Maybe, she
would take Spanish in college.

The first day was mostly a breeze except that
it was boring. Every teacher had paperwork for their students to
fill out. You would think that they would have this on the net by
now, she thought. PE was her last class, so she didn’t have to rush
her shower to get to her next class. Runyon hadn’t said anything
about picking her up after school, so she expected to ride the bus
home.

As she waited for the bus, she did not notice
two girls approaching.

“Geeze, I wondered if that was you, Kate
Garcia,” she heard.

She turned and saw the two girls that she
liked least, Veronica Crossly and Bettie Denton. Veronica and
Bettie lived in the higher priced area of Livingston, in a block of
newer upscale homes. They always made sure that everyone else knew
it. To be fair, there were plenty of nice friendly down-to-earth
kids from that section of town. Veronica and Bettie were not
them.

“I didn’t recognize you without jeans,”
simpered Veronica. Bettie giggled.

“Veronica. Bettie.” Kate said their names in
stiff acknowledgement.

Both girls looked at each other and giggled
in a manner that suggested that they knew something that she did
not.

“That’s an interesting outfit,” said Bettie
with false politeness.

“Yes, I think it’s cool that you shop at
places where they help out the less fortunate,” agreed Veronica. “I
mean, that’s so ecologically correct.” The girls giggled again.

Involuntarily, Kate took a half step back.
They had touched on the one area where she was extremely sensitive
and it hurt. She had never had a mother that was interested in her
clothing or who had helped her learn to apply makeup. She knew that
she had a very limited sense of style. And there was the fact that
her family didn’t have a lot of money to spend on clothes.

“Of course, that skirt is a little frumpy,”
suggested Veronica acting sympathetically. She took a step toward
Kate.

“Dowdy,” agreed Bettie loudly. “Salvation
Army?”

They were drawing a crowd, Kate realized.
Some of the other girls were watching. She noticed sympathetic
faces on some, but they did not try to intervene. No one wanted to
become the brunt of Veronica’s and Bettie’s emotional bullying.
Others watched with interest, like hyenas around a lion’s kill.

Her face burning and her heart pounding, Kate
desperately wished for the bus to suddenly arrive, so that she
could get on it. Veronica and Bettie had their own cars, or maybe
they were waiting for their boyfriends. They did not deign to ride
the bus.

“Hey, Baby, sorry to keep you waiting.”

Later, Kate would wonder at the immense
relief that she felt when she heard that voice. She turned just in
time for Runyon to plant a quick kiss on her lips. He drew back,
and then he draped an arm casually around Kate’s shoulders. He
looked at the other girls.

“Hi,” he said as they stood there gaping in
astonishment. He gave them his trademarked smile.

One of the bystanders gasped. “You’re Runyon
Silverstar!”

“Yes, I am,” he replied, and his smile
gleamed even brighter. He looked at Veronica and Bettie again.

“So, who are your little friends,
Sweetheart?” he asked innocently.

Kate’s heart was slowing down. She looked up
at Runyon.

“They’re nobody,” she said.

“I’m Veronica Crossly,” Veronica tried to say
as she was elbowed back by a crowd of surging girls.

Veronica’s voice came out as a drowned
stammer. Bettie didn’t even try to introduce herself. She faded
back, her face looking as if she had eaten a rotten lemon. Both
girls found somewhere else that they needed to be.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m actually meeting
Runyon Silverstar,” a young girl said.

“I loved you in, ‘I Married a Beach Bunny,’”
gushed another girl.

“I can’t believe that you didn’t get the part
in ‘MacKenzie’s Rock,’” said another girl in a mournful tone of
voice. “What were they thinking?”

“Yeah, you would have been so right for the
part of Duque.”

There was a chorus of agreement. There was
more chatter, and then in a brief moment of silence, a young girl
spoke.

“Are you and Kate dating?” she asked
timidly.

Before Kate could answer, Runyon said with a
wink, “Well, you know how it is. We have to keep our relationship
quiet for now. Discretion is important in these situations,
right?”

There was a chorus of agreement and a lot of
‘ooohs,’ and ‘ahhhs,’ and a ‘holy cow!’

Kate rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure,” she said
sarcastically. “We’ll be setting the date any time now.”

If she thought that would dampen their starry
eyed images, she was sadly mistaken. All round her, the jaws of
stunned young girls dropped. Then there was another round of
‘ooohs,’ and ‘ahhhs.’

“I was just kidding!” exclaimed Kate. Next to
her, Runyon gave the girls a wink and ratcheted up the volume of
his smile.

“Oh, of course,” replied one of the girls,
and she gave Kate a knowing wink of her own.

Runyon began to move away, his arm still
draped around Kate’s shoulder. He promised that he would be around,
so that he could sign autographs at another time. The crowd moved
with him until he and Kate reached his car. Runyon got Kate seated
and then, using only a tiny amount of force, got into the car.
Reluctantly, the crowd of girls parted, so that the car could move
away.

Kate didn’t say anything on the drive home.
She was still stunned by the event. Runyon parked on the street.
They sat there in silence for a few moments. From the corner of her
eye, Kate noticed Runyon drumming his fingers on his thigh. Then he
spoke.

“Are you mad at me? For butting in? Or maybe
for suggesting that I was like, you know, your boyfriend or
something? ”

Surprised at the question, Kate turned toward
him.

“No, I’m not mad,” she said. She looked back
down at her hands. “That was nice,” she said softly. “Thanks. No
one’s ever done something like that for me.”

“Well, I mean, I couldn’t exactly punch those
two girls.”

Kate giggled.

“Good. I’m glad you’re not mad. Your jeans
are dry. Go put some on, so we can go clothes shopping for
you.”

Kate head snapped up. Her eyes narrowed.

“Clothes shopping?” she asked in a tight
voice.

“Yes, clothes shopping. Kate, I’m sorry, but
those girls were right. That skirt is frumpy and dowdy. I should
have never let you wear that.”

“You shouldn’t have let me wear this skirt?”
Her eyes were dangerous black pits.

Runyon heard the warning in her voice, but he
ignored it.

“Yes, I’m responsible for you. For now, I’m
like your guardian. The Ragoon said so. What if they decide that
I’m doing a bad job of being your guardian? Do you think that they
have Hollywood studios on the moon? We are going clothes
shopping.”

All the way to the mall, Runyon had to endure
a biting rant from Kate. For some reason, it didn’t bother him at
all. He was feeling rather cheerful. She complained and grumbled,
but he made her try on dress after dress, skirt after skirt, and
blouse after blouse. Finally, he was satisfied. He took the items
that looked best on her to the sales counter.

“That will be one thousand one hundred and
four dollars,” announced the clerk giving him a fish eye.

“What? That’s crazy! No way, I’m letting you
spend that much on me, Silverstar,” proclaimed Kate.

Runyon ignored her and handed the clerk his
debit card. When the clerk saw the Ragoon hologram, she quickly
became much more polite, one might say even fawning. She quickly
completed the transaction. Runyon listened to Kate complain all the
way to the car. Once in the car, she lapsed into brooding
silence.

Finally, she spoke. “Am I your, Galatea,
Runyon? Are you Pygmalion? You probably didn’t think that a poor
small town girl like Kate Garcia would even know about a play by
George Bernard Shaw. Is that was this is? Ever since I told you
about my Mom, you’ve been acting different. Poor motherless Kate.
Is that what I am to you?” She lapsed back into silence.

For minutes Runyon just stared at the road as
he drove.

Then he said, “My mother is a whore.”

Stunned, Kate caught her breath. Her eyes
widened as she stared at his profile. Whatever Kate had been
expecting him to say, this was not it. Kate had no idea how to
reply to this announcement.

Then Runyon explained in a voice that was
seemingly devoid of emotion, yet with a manner that somehow Kate
already recognized, from her brief acquaintance with him, was
painful.

“Not legally,” he said. “It’s just that if
you want to marry her, you need to meet her price. She will
negotiate a little. She’s been married nine times, so far. Each guy
gets a certain amount of time, for a certain amount of money. It
doesn’t have to be in cash. She accepts jewelry, especially
diamonds. A painting that she envies might do. Once, she accepted a
villa in the south of France. I call it prostitution by
marriage.

“Remember back when lessies and gay guys
couldn’t marry? I was just a kid then. I used to wonder why they
let my mother get married again and again while two old ladies,
living in the wilds of New Hampshire who loved each other and had
lived together for decades, were forbidden to take out a marriage
license.

“I imagine you know her or about her. The
media, and everybody who works for her, calls her, ‘The Lady’. I’m
supposed to call her that too. She’s not crazy about people knowing
that she has a kid.”

He glanced at Kate. “See Kate?” he said with
a humorless smile. “Now you can think, ‘Poor Runyon. He has a whore
for a mother’.” His voice had become derisive.

“So, ‘The Lady’ is your mother,” Kate stated
slowly while thinking about it.

The title referred to a famous aging movie
star. Kate had read about her. She was one of the rich and famous
who were regularly featured in what was left of the sensational
press. Somehow, that seemed to explain Runyon a little better to
her.

Still, when they arrived home, she was hoping
that her father would not allow her to accept the purchases from
Runyon. Her hopes were quickly dashed.

“Well, he is responsible for you Katey,” her
father said apologetically. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for you to
wear a dress once in a while.”

Her brothers just snickered at her.

In the following week, Kate discovered that
she had suddenly become one of the most popular girls in school.
Everyone wanted her to come to one of their parties, “and bring
your boyfriend, too.”

And her new clothes didn’t hurt. At first,
she had vowed not to wear them, but after a while she decided that
it just would not be fair to all of the hardworking designers,
manufacturers and shippers who had managed to deliver such lovely
items to a backwater like Livingston. She decided that she would
just have to endure the sighs and compliments from the other girls.
And she would have to endure the envious looks from girls who had
taken such pleasure in deriding her.

Runyon continued to pick her up after school.
That usually caused a traffic jam, and the administration called
her in to complain. She promised to talk to him. That proved to be
futile.

One afternoon, she watched as one of the
teachers approached. Sighing inwardly, she waited for the expected
complaint. Instead, Mrs. Doolittle had a request.

“Do you think that your boyfriend could be
persuaded to help out with this year’s talent show production?”
Mrs. Doolittle asked. “It would be such a great motivation to our
students if they were working with a real live movie star. And if
it was Runyon Silverstar, I’m sure that our female students would
be especially motivated.”

Kate didn’t bother trying to explain that
Runyon was not her boyfriend. No one believed her anyway. And it
didn’t help that Runyon usually kissed her in front of everyone
when he picked her up. She had been meaning to talk to him about
that. Somehow, she always forgot.

She was dying to ask him more about his
mother too, but she hadn’t worked up the nerve yet. She told Mrs.
Doolittle that she would pass on the teacher’s request.