Life Blood --IV---Page 13

"Yeah, well, sometimes we all need to lean back and take a
fresh run at things." I called to Rachel, who came trotting over,
spaghetti sauce still on her face, and picked her up. I felt at a loss
about what to do. Tell Paula her daughter had a younger brother
in the Village, and she might fall apart. "I was actually curious
about something. Do you know anything about Rachel's birth
mother?"

"I don't want to know. It would disrupt my life. And my peace
of mind." Her eyes acquired a kind of sadness mingled with
anxiety. "I'm reconciled to the fact she probably got into some kind
of trouble, may not have exactly been Nobel Prize material, but
I'm a big believer in nurture over nature. That's why I write books
for kids. So I think Rachel's going to end up being a lot more like
me than like her real mother."

Brave words. But I'll bet you anything the story of Rachel's
mother is a lot more complicated than you imagine.
        I glanced at my watch, the hour pushing four-thirty. Time to
call it a wrap. Besides, if we shot any more today, the crew would
end up on overtime, and David was getting increasingly nervous
about my extra costs.

I also needed a little downtime to reflect.

"Look, I think I've got enough footage to work with for now. Let me just get the release signed take this film downtown, and get it processed. Maybe we can come back for another shoot when I figure out exactly where this is going."

"Anytime. Just give me some notice and I'll try to have the place cleaned up more next time."

"Don't worry. I like it to look real. Just sign the release and I'll
take it from there." I was about to set Rachel back on the floor
when something caught in my sweater. Looking down, I realized it
was a tiny charm bracelet, with two little medallions on it. One was
a little red plastic likeness of Pocahontas, the Disney character,
and the other was a silver face of a cat, long and stylized. And on
the back, those curious lines and dots again, only these were
arranged differently from those on the one Carly's boy Kevin had.
        "Paula, what's this? This cat. Where'd you get it?"
        "Oh, that." She smiled. "She was wearing it when I got her, on
 a little silk cord around her waist, under her diaper. They told me it
was a gift from her real mother, a keepsake. Sort of breaks your
heart, but the way they said it, you want to keep it forever. . . ."

At that moment Erica was just plugging the phone back in,

and the second she did, the old, black Panasonic cordless began
to ring.

"Hang on a sec," Paula said. "Let me get that. My agent is supposed—" She'd picked up the phone and was plopping back onto the couch. "Hi."

Then her look turned blank. "No, of course not." She fell into
an uncomfortable pause, looking around at everybody. Then she
continued. "Nobody's contacted me." She halted again, her face
white, and stared directly at me. I abruptly sensed that I was the
topic of the conversation. "Sure I'm sure. . . . Yes, I remember

signing. . . . Don't worry. I'd have no reason to. . .    . Okay, sure, I'll

let you know."

She clicked off the phone and looked up with startled eyes. "It
was somebody who said they worked for Children of Light. She
wanted to know if you'd contacted me." Her face collapsed. "You.
She asked me specifically about you. By name. How did—?"

"I have no idea." My hands were growing cold. Had Carly told
them about me? Why would she do that? "Anyway, you handled it
okay."

Which made me wonder. If Children of Light was such a

perfect organization, why was Paula so frightened she

immediately felt compelled to lie, to swear she hadn't broken their
rules?

"Right." Her composure was slowly coming back. "Look, now
that I think about it, why should they care? It doesn't make any
sense. They got their money." She turned to me. "Let me have
that release."

She seized the paper and endorsed it with a flourish.
        My pulse was still in overdrive, but I hugged her, then
 signaled the crew that shooting was over for the day.
        "Okay, everybody. Time to wrap."

The gang immediately began striking the lights and rolling up
electrical cords. They would take the equipment back downtown
and deliver the film to the lab, while I would head home. It had
been a long day and lots of thinking was needed. Besides, it was
starting to rain, a dismal spatter against Paula's grimy windows,
as the gray spring afternoon had begun darkening toward sullen
evening.

"Listen, I enjoyed this." Paula had taken Rachel in her arms and was stroking her blond hair. "I really love talking about her. She's changed my life."

I gave her another hug. "You're great. And you're going to be wonderful in the film." If I used her. The whole thing was getting unnerving. "You have no idea how much you've helped." Then I said good-bye to Rachel, who responded with a perfect "Bye, bye" through her haze of spaghetti sauce.

Okay, get the superintendent. Crank up the freight elevator. Get out of here.

Scott Ventri, key grip, took charge of handling the gear,

dictating which equipment got loaded on first. I watched long

enough to make sure everything was going okay, and then I

joined Arlene, old friend and queen of outrageous makeup, on the other elevator.

"You notice it?" she whispered. The door had just closed.
        "Notice what?" I knew full well what she was talking about.
 But it just felt too bizarre.

"Those kids could almost be twins. That little boy last week, and this girl. They look just alike. It's spooky."
        "Guess their parents couldn't figure out what was causing
those pregnancies. So they just kept having more babies." I decided to try to insert some humor, deflect the conversation. "Maybe we should tell Paula and Carly."

"Very dumb." Arlene bit at a long, red, false fingernail, a

perennial habit for as long as I'd known her. "We should mind our own business, that's what we should do."

"Works for me. But it also proves we were smart not to shoot
any footage of the kids. The whole world would realize
something's funny." Then I had an idea. "Want to come downtown
to my place after we unload? Have some deep thoughts over
what all this means?"

First the kids, then the call. What was this guy Alex Goddard,
whoever he was, up to? Definitely time to talk to somebody. . .
        "Gee, I'd love to," Arlene was saying, "but I can't. I gotta go
out to Kew Gardens for my mom and dad's anniversary tonight.
Their thirty-fifth, can you believe? Of course, I was a very late
baby." She blinked her dark, languid eyes, as though rehearsing
the line for a downtown club.

"A miracle of modern fertility science, right?" Shit. Arlene, I need you.

"Right." She giggled, then seemed to study the flashing lights
on the elevator's control panel. "God, those kids, they're too good
to be true. I'd love to have one like that." She impatiently pounded
the number one a couple of times, perhaps hoping to speed our