Starchela in LA

Chapter Eighteen: A NEW CHAPTER

Chapter Eighteen - A NEW CHAPTER

I come out of the sleep, slowly. Don't want to leave, though nothing much is happening. Just a dream: I'm back at home, on the back porch, yellow leaves on the trees. My mom is there, although she isn't my mom in the dream, just some woman. I'm just standing there, not waiting for something to happen, not being threatened or excited. Just resting. In other instances, when dreams reach this plateau, I just will them over. Once I get the feeling this isn't going anywhere, I make myself wake up. Not this time. This time I'm happy to just let things stand still. But I feel it drift away, get thinner. The porch is sailing away, the trees fading. I start losing my grip on the dream.

I come into the room, into my bed. It feels heavy, whatever part of the day it is. It's a new day, no doubt. A new day in LA.

"Good morning, new stuff. Good-bye, dream," I Tweet. Time to recharge my handheld - I obviously forgot last night.

Last night. We got back from the hospital after Rashad got patched up. We returned to the battlefield that we called our apartment. The window was still busted and the door kicked off its hinges. We didn't give a damn about caution or safety, we were beat. We went to bed. I think Rash may have gone to bed in our "common room," to protect us for the rest of the night. Well, he's stalking Natalie, so what better excuse, right?

I needed this sleep, 48 hours into my LA adventure. I've been attacked by a panther, assaulted by a deranged jailbird, offered the position of heiress to the queendom of Hollywood, and seduced and betrayed by a dream boy (Shane). All in a day's work. Two days, really - but they tend to bleed together due to a lack of proper differentiator, i.e. good night's sleep. Man, I tend to use very complicated phrases when being sarcastic/out of my depth.

I roll out of bed. It's lunch time already, so I've neglected another day in school. UCLA is the least of my problems - I'll just petition Evangeline Lilly to use her pull with Miranda Elizondo. Actually, I have more important things to talk to Miss Lilly about.

I come out of my room on the way to the bathroom. The "common room" is deserted. If Rash spent the night here, he took off on his managerial duties.

Something gives me pause. I stand in the middle of the room and look around. The window's blown out where he flew through it. The door is hanging limply to one side. Various debris lie about. Something's missing, something important. There was something in my dream. I can't put my finger on it. I was standing on the back porch of my parents' house, like I'm standing here now. There was somebody in the dream. It must have been my mom - who else would be standing at her porch? Why was that important? It wasn't. It's something here that's important. Something is missing. Something we left here... last night... in all the confusion... The doll. The voodoo doll!

I look around the room. I don't find it. Last night Chandra told me that Natalie's husband (ex-husband!) made it for her in prison, and gave it to her as a sign of his surrendering to his love for her. I rip through the entire room: I toss pillows and overturn chairs, open drawers and check behind ottomans. The doll is gone. Rash could have taken it when he left this morning. Anybody could have wandered in last night while we were at the hospital. Or the (ex!)husband could have come back and taken it, his butt not being so gracious after Natalie's spurning him last night.

Crude. I don't even know if it's a real functioning voodoo doll. Before the last two days, I would have laughed in the face of anyone who even considered the thought of a real functioning voodoo doll.

I come out of the apartment building wondering how to get in touch with Miss Evangeline Lilly, the reigning queen of Bel Air. I didn't even knock on Natalie's door, she probably needs sleep even more than I did. And Rash was not in his crib. So the doll issue being put on hold for now, I must find a way to contact my mom's twin sister. There are important things I need to talk to her about.

And wouldn't you know it, the Maybach is parked in front of the building. Torquevald Nordon emerges from the driver's door, all 7 feet of him.

"Good morning," he growls in his Scandinavian accent.

"Can you take me to my aunt?"

"That's where we're going."

I hop in the back seat. It's amazing how familiar and cozy it feels, like coming home.

We drive through Westwood, hit Sunset, dive into Bel Air.

"The path to unknown future weaves through a maze of well-known alleys," I Tweet.

That lonely woman I'm going to see is powerful enough to protect me and my friends from the crazy (ex!)jailbird. My friends are Natalie, Rash and Shane. I will admit, they have their flaws, and they may not even think of me as their friend. But I'm sticking with them. I'm staying in this town however stressful it tries to be.

The Maybach stops at the front door. I jump out. Torquevald Nordon points the corner of the house.

I run there. Beyond the corner, a lawn stretches out. Under a parasol, Miss Evangeline Lilly is having her lunch by herself. I march to her.

"Let's do this," I say. "I'll take the job."