Two Birds, One Feather: The Lives and Times of Lorewyn & Rhianyn in America

by C. J. Pearson

“Yellowfeather, no… you’re too close!” She yelled, forgetting about using Lorewyn’s alias in public. She likewise began running into the street…

  …But it was over in a flash. Lorewyn just wasn’t quite fast enough, or the distance for her to cover was just a bit too great. The Roadster hit Edie head on. Edie flew up on the hood of the car, bounced once, then landed hard on the pavement. Lorewyn slammed into the side of the vehicle an instant later, not quite in time to push her friend out of the way. The driver of the Roadster cursed loudly, then put the car back into gear and started tearing off again.

  “Stop!” Lorewyn yelled after the driver. “Stop, you son of a…!”

  But he was already racing away down the street. Rhianyn quickly diverted and started chasing after the hit-and-run culprit on foot. It was no use, however. Not even an Elf can catch up to a speeding automobile.

  Lorewyn was kneeling beside Edie, tears in her eyes. “Edie!” she gasped, looking her over carefully, trying to see if there was any hope. It took a second, but Lorewyn quickly realized that she was still alive… barely!

  Some people in the area had seen what had happened and were running to the scene. A couple were saying to call for an ambulance, others were trying to get a description of the Roadster and its driver. Lorewyn was just there, next to Edie, trying to comfort her and keep her calm. She needed help. She needed medical attention.

  And then she gasped for air, looking up at Lorewyn. She tried to say something. Lorewyn shook her head. “Don’t try to speak. We’re getting you help… we’re getting…”

  This can’t be happening, she thought. The cycle just never ends! Accidents, tragedies, illness, death!

  Edie’s eyes began to close. Her pulse was weakening. She only had seconds left. She was dying. Help couldn’t arrive fast enough. There was, in fact, only one kind of help right now that could save her… and it was quite close indeed.

  Forgive me, Lorewyn said in her mind. But I have to do this. I can’t let this woman die like this! She placed her hands on Edie’s temples, preparing to channel some healing magic. Rhianyn had just come back from trying to run down the Roadster. She moved through the people who had gathered, now seeing Lorewyn on the ground next to Edie, her hands on the sides of her head…

  “Yellowf… Ariel!” Rhianyn exclaimed, knowing exactly what was about to happen, correcting her name usage this time. You damned S’trysthyl! She cursed in her mind. You and your enormous unrelenting heart!

  Rhianyn had to act fast. She suddenly pointed down the street. “Look! The Roadster’s back! We need to get him!” It was a lie, but she was hoping those gathered would look away. A couple did, but Lorewyn had already activated the healing magic.

  A soft glow emitted from her hands, bathing the head and shoulders of the dying woman next to her in a dim golden colored hue. The effect was clearly visible and the people around saw it, gasping in astonishment. Rhianyn lowered her head, closing her eyes, exhaling deeply. It was too late.

  The effect only lasted for a few seconds, but it was sufficient. Edie would be okay. She would live. However, about twenty people nearby had seen the whole thing. They were starting to talk, to point, to marvel.

  Rhianyn had no other choice. She moved in, kneeling beside her wife who had completed the healing magic and was a bit weakened from the effort. She took Lorewyn in her arms and helped her up.

  “We need to get out of here, right now,” she whispered to her, and began walking with her to their car, still parked a few yards away.

  “Wait!” one of the onlookers exclaimed. “You can’t leave! That… thing that happened, that… light! What was that?!”

  “Are you some sort of magician?” A woman asked. Then she turned to Rhianyn. “Is she a magician?!”

  “No, she’s no magician!” Rhianyn yelled back. “And neither am I! You didn’t see anything. Just stay with that woman, make sure she’s okay!”

  A few people tried following Rhianyn as she was escorting Lorewyn to their car. Rhianyn quickly got her wife in the passenger seat then turned abruptly to the people around her, trying to press forward. “Go home, all of you!” She called out. “It’s over! You saw nothing! Now, stand aside!”

  Rhianyn hopped in the driver’s seat and fired up the engine. With a roar, she sped away as fast as possible, being mindful of the onlookers, not wanting yet another near-fatal accident. There was no other option. Rhianyn didn’t have the spell energy by herself to do twenty memory wipes… and the logistics of it… a nightmare!

  “Oh, Yellowfeather,” she exclaimed, looking over at her wife in the seat next to her, now exhausted but slowly regaining her senses. “I love you so, so very much… but sometimes you can be the most foolish and reckless Elf I’ve ever known!”

  ***

  Rhianyn had the car packed and ready early the next morning by the time Lorewyn awoke from a very deep reverie. There was a brief discussion, but the choice that had to be made was obvious. There was no disputing it. They would take whatever they could fit. It would have to be sufficient to start over again.

  Rhianyn had left a note for the apartment manager and last month’s rent. She had checked anonymously with the hospital in Manhattan and had learned that Edie was fine and would be released by the end of the week. She gave no notice at the club, nor did she try to track down how much information about the “healing” last night near Carnegie Hall had been spread, and what sort of rumors were flying around. There simply wasn’t time. They had to get out of the city as fast as possible. Ariel Archer and Rachel Selinger would have to disappear, new identities taking their place. Time would mend, eventually. People would forget, so long as there wasn’t anything left behind to remind them, like a former editor turned Mission volunteer, or the ‘Lady Raven.’ And it would pass into urban legend and tall tales, like similar incidents had done in the past.

  “She’ll likely stay here in New York now, I suppose,” Lorewyn theorized. “With Ariel Archer gone, she’ll stay with the 21st Street Mission. She’s alive, but now she’ll skip out on her big opportunity.” She just looked at Rhianyn, her expression wilted. She found herself leaning into her wife’s arms. “Blackbird… what have I done? Again… what have I done???”

  “You did what you felt was necessary,” Rhianyn responded, holding her. “You followed your heart, as you most always do. That big, generous, loving, worn-on-your-sleeve heart that I adore more than I can express to you. We take actions, you and I both. We make choices. We live with the consequences. That’s what we do. And being that we’re joined, and have been for a long time now, we share in the consequences together. That’s a life shared. That’s marriage. That’s love.”

  They hit the Brooklyn Bridge, making one final drive through Lower Manhattan before passing into New Jersey, and then driving west. Lorewyn was very quiet, just looking out the window most of the time. She saw Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, their initial welcome committee when they first arrived, nearly a decade ago now. Lady Liberty was still there, holding her torch up high, bidding all those who came to these teeming shores a heartfelt salute… and a sincere wish based on a promise… a promise that wouldn’t necessarily be fulfilled the way one might expect.

  She saw the construction of the newly-designed and emerging Empire State Building, still about six months from completion. It was still a work in progress.

  “A work in progress,” she whispered to herself. Rhianyn, who was driving at the moment, heard and turned to look at her. Lorewyn perceived her attention. “We’re still works in progress, aren’t we, Blackbird? Despite all we’ve been through and how long we’ve lived, there’s always something new to learn, isn’t there? And still mistakes to be made, and still opportunities to get back on our feet and try again”

  Rhianyn just smiled at her. “Life wouldn’t be very exciting if we always had the right answer or didn’t have to grow in some way… wouldn’t it?”

  “No,” Lorewyn chuckled. “I suppose it wouldn’t.” She was quiet again a while lon
ger, not speaking until they were driving through Hoboken. “The Big Apple,” she mused. “I’m going to miss New York… our first taste of America. Nine years here. Do you think we bit off a bit more than we could chew?”

  “I think we left the core intact on this one, Yellowfeather,” Rhianyn considered. “And I know we planted a few seeds as well. Some good seeds too. I like to think they’ll take root and become some pretty meaningful trees, don’t you?”

  “I hope so,” Lorewyn added. “I guess I just feel as if we had to leave with less than what we arrived with, that’s all. I suppose that happens when you have to leave under duress, because of a decision that was made.” She looked over at Rhianyn, some regret in her expression. She was still feeling guilty about it.

  “My love, it comes down to how we quantify it,” Rhianyn offered. “Did we lose material wealth during these past nine years? Yes. Did we have to make sacrifices in leaving the way we did? Yes. Are we somehow poorer or worse off as a result of that? Honestly, I don’t think so. You got a chance to help launch some authors’ careers and to make a difference in the lives of a lot of people who really did suffer loss as a result of the Crash. Plus, you saved the life of a nurse and social worker! Don’t forget that for a second, as guilty as you might feel for making an impulsive decision. The reality is that you saved a life. You’ve saved lives before, including mine. And I wouldn’t be a very good ‘Jew Princess’ as that mook in the club called me a few years back, if I didn’t quote the Talmud and remind you that whoever saves one life, saves the world entire.”

  Lorewyn laughed. “Oy vey, right? And what about you, Blackbird? How do you quantify it for yourself?”

  “Well…” Rhianyn thought about it. “I got to spend the past nine years singing in clubs and other venues in front of people who for a short time got to listen to music, to forget about the troubles of their lives for a moment and experience something magical. And I got to spend these past nine years with you… sharing a new place and life with you, being taken up the Adirondacks for my birthday with you, and being your wife. And Yellowfeather, as far as I’m concerned, those things make me the wealthiest Elf who’s ever existed in any realm!”

  “Good seeds indeed,” Lorewyn stated, smiling and taking Rhianyn’s non-wheel hand, holding it in her own for a moment, then kissing it lovingly. “I guess you’re right… we’re leaving New York a couple of rich-ass broads, aren’t we?”

  Rhianyn laughed. “Damn right we are! Think about it… the Byzantine Empire took a couple centuries to reach its height. We forged a small empire in the Empire State ourselves in less than a decade.”

  “Small empire… I like it!” Lorewyn agreed. “You think the Golden State is ready for two new empresses?”

  Rhianyn took a turn in Newark, following the road to Trenton and accelerating a bit. “We’re gonna find out, aren’t we?”

  PART II: OF STARS AND STUNTS, ABOVE AND BELOW (1931-1959)

  * * * *

  CHAPTER 9

  “Your work on King Kong doubling for Fay Wray was excellent… we still have people here at the studio talking about it and cursing me for letting Hughes produce it over at RKO. But want I really want to know is how you got into stunt work in the first place. I mean, not to sound out of line, Miss Chambers, but a girl as pretty and talented as you are? I’d think you could have your choice of anything out there besides offering up your body to the gods of Hollywood. And again, no offense.”

  The man who had just spoken to Lorewyn was in his early 40’s, dark haired with a mustache, and sitting behind his desk at Warner Bros. Studios in Burbank, California, smoking a cigar as he chatted with his new prospect.

  New York… California… the smoking in confined closed spaces doesn’t seem to change, Lorewyn thought, always mindful to regulate her breathing best she could in these situations, and secretly but hypothetically devising schemes in her own mind for causing the downfall of the American tobacco industry.

  The misogyny’s getting a bit better, though. Lorewyn was keenly aware of this and observed that a decade ago, most men in a position of influence like Jack Warner wouldn’t have even bothered with the “not to sound out of line” or “no offense.” And to his credit, he sounded pretty sincere when he said it too.

  With her almost six-foot slender physique, long silvery blonde hair, and captivating hazel green eyes, Lorewyn… or Alivia Chambers as she went by now… was indeed a pretty face, and with her fabricated resume based on actual skills and experience as her previous incarnation, Ariel Archer from New York, plus her brief time already in Hollywood as an executive assistant, Warner’s remarks were spot on. The sudden move into stunt work was, however, a story that deserved some explanation.

  “Well, Mr. Warner,” Lorewyn replied, “that’s something of an interesting tale… and I’m rather surprised you haven’t heard it through the gossip-laced grapevine we have around here in the motion picture business.”

  “Jack, please,” Warner clarified, inviting her to use his first name. “And yes, I have heard rumors about Hollywood’s newcomer stuntwoman… they’re essentially unavoidable. But I’m not one for tabloids, and I tend to distrust sources once they’ve been filtered several steps beyond the original first-hand account. So, I’m asking you directly. Tell me the story, if you don’t mind.”

  Lorewyn laughed at the journalism reference. “I’m not a fan of tabloids either,” she commented. “And I have some first-hand source experience with that! Well, Jack, and if I can call you Jack, then please feel free to call me Alivia… or just Liv… that seems to be a favorite, I was temping as a studio assistant at RKO. It was just a job to help pay the bills, you know. It was lunch one day, and I was walking across one of the back lots, on my way to meet someone who was on the job for Mr. Hughes as well. There were some horses with their trainers, and one of the horses was clearly agitated, perhaps not broken properly, I’m not sure. But very upset and giving the trainer a difficult time. The horse broke loose, spooked by something I guess, and started galloping out of control across the lot. The trainers started yelling, but the horse was running, and a lot faster than they could obviously. I was in the horse’s path, sort of, barely ten feet from where its course would lead. I’ve been around horses, had some experience growing up on a ranch in Colorado. I just impulsively took off, intercepting the horse, and leaped on its back, bringing it to a stop, calming it down, and returning it to the trainers. They saw what had happened, and after a few well-meaning Calamity Jane jokes, I was referred to RKO’s production team for King Kong. Pauline Wagner was supposed to double for Wray, but she got sick during the filming of a critical scene… you know the one… the Empire State Building? I’m a blonde, and I had just shown that I could handle physical scenes. So… well, the rest as they say is history.”

  “History indeed,” Warner remarked as Lorewyn finished. He put his cigar down in the ashtray for a moment. “History is good; we need history for sure. But the reason I wanted to talk to you today, Miss Chambers… Liv, rather… is because we have some present and future to discuss as well. You’re not under contract with RKO, correct?”

  “That’s correct,” Lorewyn said. “I was only temping. My work on the film was covered under the temp duration… the production division didn’t follow up with me afterward for some reason, and as such, no contract with the studio was ever offered.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Warner stated. “Existing contracts always make things trickier. So, here’s the deal. Warner Bros. has made a lot of films. We’ve got a lot of films in the making now, and I’m sure we’ll keep making a lot more down the road. Hollywood’s big business. You know that, I’m sure. Even with the PCA trying to crack down and enforce the Hays Code now, studios are putting out motion pictures like crazy! We have some great actresses on contract here… Joan Blondell, Ruby Keeler, Glenda Farrell… some real stars. And we have some good stunt-doubles too… but they’re all guys. Now, RKO, Paramount, Universal? They got a couple ladies on contract to d
ouble for their big-ticket actresses. You know what that means, right?”

  Lorewyn thought for a moment. “They have to pay more money?”

  Warner chuckled, picking up his cigar again. “I like your style. It means those studios get to cast their leading ladies in roles that are riskier, that require more action. Howard Hughes can cast Katharine Hepburn in a film that pushes the line on possible injury because he’s got a woman on his payroll that’s hired as a double. He can’t afford to have Hepburn laid up for a month during production because of a mishap during filming, although to be fair, Hepburn is one tough cookie and could probably handle it… but you see my point, right? If you have women doubles on contract, you can take the risks and make the films that break new ground, Hays Code or otherwise.”

  Lorewyn nodded, understanding. “So… if Warner Bros. had a stunt woman on contract, someone like… me, for example… you could make a film starring Joan Blondell and put her in a more precarious situation, because she wouldn’t have to handle the scene… her double would.”

  Warner smiled in satisfaction, taking a puff on his cigar. “You got this show business thing down like a pro,” he said.

  “Ain’t no business like it, right?” Lorewyn said in return.

  It was 1934. Lorewyn and Rhianyn had been living in Southern California for just over three years by that time. It had taken some getting used to, coming from nearly a decade in New York. For one thing, it was always sunny. Well, not always. Sure, they had a few cloudy and rainy days here and there, but nothing like New York. And no snow during the winter either. Their 1928 Model A worked fine for the two of them… for a while. They found a place to live in the Magnolia Park district of Burbank, running essentially the same “we’re sisters” gambit as they had in New York, only this time amending it to “cousins.”

  But then, both of them got jobs working for Hughes in some capacity, Lorewyn as a temp at RKO studios, which led to her gig on film with King Kong, and Rhianyn as a test pilot when Howard Hughes opened his aircraft company in Glendale in 1932. The “one car” model wasn’t working anymore.