Invisible Threads--Chapter 31

Writer's Note: Please read the previous chapters and prologue of Invisible Threads before reading this.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Gary's dislike of the victory lap around the green room had morphed into hatred. They led him around the room, deliberately ending at Harriman. The cameras were focused and everyone waited for the hug or the congratulations or whatever fake emotions were about to be presented. Harriman stuck out his hand.

"That was good." Harriman gave no smile nor made any effort to put any positive emotion into his voice.

Gary shook the proffered hand. "Thanks." He just wanted to get this over.

Al sat in the booth and looked at her computer monitor watching the countdown clock in the upper right corner. When Fisher went down on the stage and yelled, "The voting starts...NOW!" the clock began and ticked steadily down. The software gave the audience five minutes to vote and then locked out everything that came after. As soon as it hit zero, Al could click the Results button and see the votes being tallied as they came in.

She didn't care about anything other than the top two. It had to be the two magicians. They were the story. Although she hated messing with the voting, she would make changes if the audience got it wrong. But they didn't. The clock ticked down to zero, and Gary Richardson and Jim Harriman were in the top two slots.

Al turned in her chair. "Okay, places for Presentation. Home stretch, everybody."

***

The final Presentation scene felt redundant and anti-climactic to Gary. The dramatic pauses remained ludicrously long while he stood on the stage sweating and waiting for it all to be over. Even the audience seemed tired as the third-place contestant was eliminated and sweaty hugs were shared all around.

It was just him and Harriman. They were on a break while the contestants were wiped off, given water, and powdered. There was nothing to be done for Gary's sweat-matted hair.

Gary heard something from his right and turned to see no one looking at him but Harriman. "Did you say something?"

Harriman's eyes were lifeless. "It had to come down to this."

"To what?"

"To the two of us. You and me."

"I don't understand."

Harriman shook his head. "I had everything lined up. It was all there. And then you had to show up. God just had to say 'Screw Jim Harriman.' Just for the hell of it."

"God is just a construct people use to explain the fact that we can't define all of the variables controlling the world around us. It's not real."

Harriman's energy seemed to drain from him. "I wish that were true."

Al's voice boomed over the intercom, "Final run. Places."

Gary watched as Harriman's back straightened and the big smile returned. Out in the crowd, interns were cajoling the crowd to make more noise. One of the stage crew ran out onto the stage with her hand held up for the countdown. "Five... Four... Three..."

Fisher was on her mark in the middle of the stage with Harrison to her right and Gary to her left. A red light appeared on the camera in front of her. "And here we are. We have two firsts. One, a magician has never been in the top two of Superstar. And two, we have never had two magicians as the top two. But only one will be the next Superstar!"

She paused as the interns in the crowd again riled up the audience.

Fisher looked out over the audience in one of the many dramatic pauses that would punctuate the next few minutes.

Gary was bored but tried to stay focused on what was happening around him rather than slipping away inside his mind.

Fisher looked down at the judges and questioned each of them about how the year had gone and the talent levels they had seen. They, in turn, spewed the same verbal pablum as always.

Gary took a peek into the extraverse. The anomaly was nowhere to be seen. He squinted into the audience but could see nothing but black silhouettes. Maybe Cherie had changed her mind and was sitting out there in her usual spot in the balcony? He began to drift into his own thoughts when Fisher's voice rose.

"And now, this year's Superstar Champion is..."

And she waited...

And she waited...

And she waited...

Gary really hated this part.

"Gary Richardson!"

Harriman shook his hand and exited quickly while confetti fell from the ceiling. The confetti stuck to the sweat on his face. Rubbing just pushed them around and he had to try and pick them off one by one while lights and cameras and lasers went off all around. His shirt was stuck to his back and felt clammy. The audience cheered and the judges came up. There was more hugging that just served to mingle his sweat with that of theirs and all the while he felt alone and awkward amidst the noise and brouhaha.

When it finally stopped, he was taken back stage and given a schedule for the following day when he would be meeting with producers, signing forms, and getting his photograph taken. His back was then patted and he was told to go out, celebrate, and have fun. He nodded, made no effort to smile, and did none of those things. He went back to the hotel.

Al sat quietly in her chair in the booth and let the stress drain from her body. The taping was over but the theater and the room around her were far from silent. Tear-down was a noisy affair and everything they got done tonight was that much less they had to do tomorrow. But she wasn't listening to any of that. She was just being still. The manic, frantic, crazy part was over and she could just sit and listen to all of the sounds around her as a single mass of white noise.

"Ms. Parker?"

Al really didn't want to open her eyes but no one on her staff or in the crew would call her Ms. Parker. It could only to be the police. She opened her eyes and it was the detective. It took her a moment to place his name, "Detective Janus, how can I help you?"

The detective smiled slightly. "I don't suppose that you could call all of your contestants back and have them stay here while we interrogate each one of them again?"

She knew that he was being tongue-in-cheek but answered seriously: "You would have much more ability to do that than we would."

"Yes, ma'am. But most of your contestants have already left the city. And I believe that by the day after tomorrow, everyone associated with the production will have left."

"Unless you can legally detain them. That's correct."

"Without warrants, there's not much we can do on that front."

Al digested that information. "Are Lacy's parents still in town?"

He nodded. "They had a local mortician pick their daughter up from the morgue this afternoon and I believe that that they're returning to Minnesota tomorrow."

"What happens next?"

"It's murder, so it remains an open case-"

She interrupted, "But the odds are pretty slim that you're going to catch Lacy's attacker."

"I wouldn't make a prediction like that but Las Vegas has about 100 homicides a year. We had two more over the week-end and police resources are limited."

She wanted to be outraged at this but felt nothing. "I see."

"We may be contacting you in the future for further assistance."

"I'll help in any way that I can."

He turned and paused at the doorway. "I'm sorry."

She nodded and watched him leave.

She looked at the three other people working in the booth, "Guys, I think I'm going to take ten. Why don't you go through the tear-down list and get things started." Her left knee popped as she stood and she limped the first couple of steps as she exited the room.

The auditorium was filled with activity. That was good but tonight it repelled her. She wanted isolation. A wave of shivers washed over her body and she felt her arms start shaking from the elbows down. She made it to the conference rooms, stepped inside one of the smaller ones, and closed the door. There was a small table, four chairs and a tray on the table with a pitcher of water and four glasses. She took one of the glasses and poured a splash of water into it. It was tepid.

Lacy was no kind of daughter to her. Lacy had been her assistant and prot She had promised Natalie that she would tell Lacy her value and the potential for her future, but the production schedule had carried her forward like a tsunami and the moment for that conversation had never come.

Al didn't want or need a daughter. She wanted a protnot progeny. She wanted someone to teach. Someone who would allow her to know that when she decided to hang it up in a couple of decades, there was at least one person in the business who knew how to do things the right way. That is what Lacy was. Lacy was the future. And now that future was gone. And Al had never let her know.

She waited for the crying or the laughing or the screaming to begin. But nothing came. She sat in silence for about three minutes, which was as much idleness as she could tolerate. She left the room and headed back to work. There was a lot to get done.

***

Gary was not able to concentrate. He would be able to focus for a few moments at a time. But right when he felt that he might make some headway in his equations, his thoughts would become sidetracked and he would end up mindlessly clicking through the Internet.

A knock startled him from his revery. He got up and opened the door to find himself looking at the top of a head. A bald head. And underneath the bald pate was a man that was unknown to him.

The man looked up. "Gary Richardson?"

"Yes." As soon as Gary said the word, he knew that he shouldn't have volunteered it.

"My name is Randy Wilcox and I'm a talent agent here in town. Here is my card and a brochure. If you need representation, I am available."

"Okay."

Gary shut the door. Breathing deeply in response to the sudden, unwanted intrusion. If Cherie had been there, the agent would have left at a run with his tail between his legs. But Cherie had left from the green room over seven hours ago.

He did not have a single photograph of her on his phone. That seemed a pretty egregious oversight. How did he not think to take any pictures of her? But there was always social media. He sat at his computer and brought up her Facebook page. She hadn't updated it or probably even looked at it in months but it had pictures of her from college. He clicked through them and found one that was a close-up of her face when she was smiling. It was a good picture. He almost smiled himself before remembering that she was never coming back.

He thought of a line from an old Star Trek episode. I guess I will delete the appropriate program.