Archeia's Atheneum (The First Shift)

Episode Twenty: "Did You Hear That?"

Deloris Cooper's train of thought abruptly ended, and the after taste of confusion lingered with her as she asked, "Hear what?" Ms. Mortenson was craning her head to see down the back hallway, where the restroom was. It was dim back there, but not so much that something could hide easily in the shadows. Deloris looked down the hall, then back at Mortenson. Ms. Cooper was warned about this behaviour, but only now did she begin to grasp her client's eccentricities. "Is everything alright?" she asked in earnest.

"Yes--I'm sorry," said Mortenson with anxiety, "What were you saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything. You were telling me about the director and how-"

"His wife sent me a letter. Maybe it's not such a good story," Ms. Mortenson decided. As the woman sipped her champagne, Mrs. Cooper thought of her mother's late morning drinks--and how she was grateful there was no little Mortenson's to witness that weak-minded sort of behavior.

"Shall I do the other hand?" Deloris asked, gesturing to the hand with unpainted fingernails. She wanted the job to be over of course, but at that moment, she wanted to change the subject even more. Talking to Mortenson often felt like opening Pandora's Box, and Deloris wanted none of that. Save that work for more qualified people, she thought. But Mortenson wasn't a box filled with monsters, she was a person filled with feelings--just someone who needed what all someones need. Besides, Pandora's Box wouldn't be rediscovered for another fifty years.

"Actually, it's alright. Maybe another time."

"Are you sure...you're due on set in half an hour--we're already late as it is."

Mortenson looked away. "It's alright," she said before turning back with a beautifully painted smile. Deloris didn't want to argue her task's conclusion, even when she thought she should. Mrs. Cooper just packed her things and let the woman walk her to the door. When she was out the door, and about to start down the porch steps, Ms. Mortenson asked something that grabbed her attention. "Do you know why women and men are meant to be together?"

"Gosh, I don't think I have the answer to that."

"Women and men are supposed to be together because one day we're not going to be here, and they have to appreciate what they're going to lose."

"Ms. Mortenson, are you sure you're ok?" A childish pout contorted the actress's face in response.

"Just because your child isn't with you doesn't mean you're not a mother," Mortenson said, "plenty of mother's had their babies taken from them."

Deloris was quite speechless. The actress shut the door after that--never to be opened by her again. Mrs. Cooper, whom would die twenty-three years later of lung cancer and as a mother of two, was the last to see the actress alive. I do hope that woman gets the help she needs, she prayed, she's running a loose chain.

***

She locked the deadbolt, then turned to go, then looked back to see it was locked. She sat at her vanity again, a nice plain one--with no obnoxious lightbulbs lining the mirror, overexposing everything. The woman had turned off all the lights. Closed all the shades. Unplugged all the wires. How could she go to the set like this? The voice was bad today, and it would interrupt the work. They would make her face weak when she smiled. The director would get angry. She really didn't like it when he got angry. I'll call Joey, she thought--but quickly reconsidered. What would he think, what would he do? Joey hadn't been told about the voice...and he never would know--not truly. He'd have a mind to put her in the jacket again. She could hear in him.