In part two of this episodic psychological thriller, Nicole Jeffords. convinced that healer, Victor Goodlove, who disappeared ten years earlier is buried under her studio, continues her search for him, contacting old patients all over Austin and dis...
We were there for two hours, long enough for us to consider remaining in Brasov overnight instead of driving across the Carpathians to Bucharest where we had a prepaid hotel. But darkness didn't fall till nearly nine o'clock, so we decided to stick with our original plan. I could have stayed with Maria, my dublura, for hours, perhaps even days. Some of it was the visual of seeing someone who looked exactly like me, almost like watching a movie of myself drinking a cup of tea, getting up from a chair, petting the dog, laughing, wiping tears of emotion from my eyes. It was freaky. Maria had the same olive skin tones I had, her hair grew in the same way, her build was the same (muscular with sloppy posture), her hands and teeth were just like mine, as were eyes, nose, mouth; even our style of dressing was similar. That was why we couldn't stop laughing. George and Eddie grew restless, but we could have sat there looking at one another forever.
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Nicole (left) & Maria
Our lives, however, had been completely different. Maria had grown up in Bucharest, daughter of a doctor and a journalist. She'd studied medicine, but her career had been side-tracked when she got a bit part in a film and decided to spend the next few years as an actress. Then came marriage and babies — she had two daughters, Andra, thirty, and Sabina, thirty-three, who lived in the States — and when all that was over, she went back to her original field and trained to become a midwife. "So in that way we are different," she laughed. "You are a writer and painter. Other than mimicking people, I could never do anything creative."
"She lies," Andra said. "My mother can sew — she taught me how to make clothes. She can cook like no one else. And she has a way with plants." I glanced around the room. It was true: the floral arrangements were brilliant. "She also makes her own — how shall I say? — remedies. Like for stomach ache and arthritis."
"How about face creams?" I asked, looking at Andra's flawless skin.
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Andra
"Yes, that, too."
Maria listened and smiled. She knew only a few words of English, but she took one of my wrists and placed her fingers around it. Oh the energy that was transmitted in her touch! Then she stood and gestured that I should follow her into a room beyond the kitchen. And there I had what amounted to an almost life-altering shock.
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