King of Her Desire

31

A lot happened that day on the set—I'll get to that. But between scenes each of us had to do all these TV talk shows. That was a trip.

They split up a long list between us, so we were all appearing on different shows at different times. And I had fewer scenes that day, so I was on more.

Only I wasn't actually on the shows, right? We did them long distance. Lots of them, from all over the country and even some foreign countries.

That was hilarious, when they only spoke English to say your name. I'd hear, "Blah, blah, blah, blah, Shoshoni King, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, Indigos..." and then some applause or something, if they had an audience.

It's kind of like Zoom, except you're in this room with a big TV camera with a red light that turns green when you're "on air." So the video and sound quality are perfect.

And you're talking to millions of people. Only, you can't see anyone.

You're wired for sound, so you can hear the host(s) talking and laughing and asking you things. And there's a monitor off to the side, but you're not supposed to be looking at that.

It's kind of like making a phone call—that's how I finally thought of it. Except you have to look at the camera. And I would kind of glance at Elliott and Gerri and Ben over by the monitors sometimes to see if they were smiling or laughing or looking concerned.

I loosened up gradually. They weren't asking me anything deep or controversial. We were "kids" on a new TV show, so they just sort of cooed at us, mostly.

The only thing I didn't like was how they kept asking me about living in shelters and things like that. They made it sound all heroic, the classic "rags to riches" story when all I'd done was hang out with Elliott on a beach.

But this one time, I decided to tell them something I told you once. About how it felt when people snatched their kids away from us at that playground at McDonalds because we hadn't been able to bathe for a few days.

They played it back to me later, and I heard myself say, "You just feel like there's this big party everyone is invited to but you. Like you're not welcome in the world, period, really—you're not as human as other people or something. And you feel like it's your fault, but you can't figure out what you did wrong, you know? Or why some kids have houses and parents who work and keep them safe—I'd tell my little brothers and sisters they were just as good as those kids, but deep down, I didn't believe that myself. It seeps into you. It kills your spirit."

All I remembered was how Elliott and Gerri went all still and sad in the face. And Ben ran a hand through his hair and walked away from the screen, too—that's why I looked over there. Because I saw him move out of the corner of my eye.

Even the guy behind the camera got weird. I mean, he'd been concentrating on the camera and sound and stuff mostly, but he made eye contact after I said that. Almost like he wanted to apologize.

And it sort of made me angry. Because I didn't want to be pitied or seen as some kind of inspiration or whatever.

I felt like this friend I had, who was blind. When someone on the street stopped to tell him how brave he was, he'd bark something like, "I'm not brave, I'm blind! Do people clap when you cross the street?"

That's kind of how I felt, too. It didn't feel noble or heroic just trying to survive day after day. It just felt good to eat or sleep one more time. Or to get that assistance we'd applied for, finally.