“So that explains the sudden interest in old coins,” she grinned, flipping the coin into the air.
He shrugged before nodding toward the little booth. She turned and headed toward the busy gentleman in the bowler.
“What can I get for the pretty lady?” the man asked, shaking a cup of pencils, “We’ve got pencils, stuffed animals, shirts, postcards, and souvenir books. I’ve got cigarettes, candy bars, and even two leftover newspapers.”
“I’ll take both of those newspapers and how about… two postcards,” she said, placing the silver dollar on the counter.
“Twelve cents is your total, and…” he said, fishing the change from his drawer, “Eighty-eight cents is your change.”
Eddie grinned as his mother tucked the purchases under her arm. She handed the change to Eddie just before she noticed the brunette from the dance hall. The slender beauty was propped against a light post smoking a cigarette.
“I believe your secret admirer has followed us,” she said, “But don’t look. Let’s go ride the White Lightning.”
“You do realize the White Lightning is a roller coaster, don’t you? And you realize these aren’t lame coasters just because it’s the 20’s,” he said.
“Are you suggesting I’m too old?”
“Well, you are forty-five,” he reminded her.
She slapped him with the rolled up papers and headed toward the coaster.
* * * *
Brooksie would be a good name. Louise Brooks was sometimes referred to as Lu Lu or Brooksie in the nickelodeon reviews. The name Lu Lu left a bad taste in her mouth, but Brooksie sounded “New York”. Nena Brooks. Nena was her sister’s name, so Nena Brooks it would be – but you can call me Brooksie.
Just please don’t mistake me for someone from Hollywood. Not Louise Brooks or that missing actress – Patience Webb. No, Brooksie was just another lost soul in Silver Falls.
She stood near the entrance of The Whip and pretended to watch the people as they were hurled around the sharp turns. No matter how many times they went around, it always seemed to bring about laughter or screams. Every few moments, she would glance beyond the ride and watch the line of the White Lightning.
The man and his mother were waiting in line. They would probably be the next riders once the coaster returned.
Prior to getting in line, the lady took the newspaper she bought from the souvenir stand and hid something inside. Then she slid it into the bushes where no one could see. Brooksie was certain now that these people were here for her. Someone would come by later for the message hidden inside that newspaper.
Brooksie casually walked toward the White Lightning as the cars returned to the Lightning Shack. This would be her opportunity to see what his mother hid in the bushes.
Once the mother and her son were out of view, she dashed for the bush. Brooksie reached into the bush and pulled out the paper. The roller coaster train was now sounding that familiar clickety-clack of its ascent up the first hill. Brooksie placed herself between the White Lightning and the newspaper. She didn’t need them looking down from the coaster and seeing her with the paper.
She opened the paper to discover not one, but two newspapers. Lying atop the bold picture of her were two postcards displaying the Crystal Pool. She flipped the cards over and was surprised to discover no writing on them.
Where was the secret message?
She sat down on the nearby bench and fanned out both newspapers, trying to shake out the hidden note. There was nothing at all. She finally resigned herself to fold the papers up again. The White Lightning was already speeding along the tracks nearby, accompanied by those excited screams.
Just before she rolled up the paper again, she looked at the picture on the front page. It was one of her sad expressions. People seemed to like that photo because they claimed she looked so natural. They never realized the irony of their statements.
“Can I have my papers back?”
Brooksie jumped and looked up at the mother.
“I – I…” she stammered, never quite able to find words when she was frightened.
“My name is Eddie and this is my mother Jean,” the man stated, reaching out his hand to her.
She looked at his hand for a moment, judging his intent. Her eyes then moved up to meet his. She wondered suddenly where such a beaming smile could come from. His eyes even smiled with the upturn of his lips.
“Brooksie,” she mumbled, offering her hand.
He took her hand just by the tips of her fingers and then kissed it foolishly like Paul used to. Paul loved imitating those crazy British actors who thought they were so classy and sophisticated.
“Brooksie,” he repeated, “You look like a Brooksie. That’s a cute name.”
She caught the implication immediately. Though she still wore an expression of fear or confusion, Eddie continued to smile.
“I’m going back to the Wisteria,” his mother said, nodding down at the newspaper in Brooksie’slap, “Don’t forget our papers.”
He turned to his mother and started to say something.
“I need to be leaving,” Brooksie said, rising from the bench and handing the newspaper to Eddie, “It was… It’s nice to meet you, Edward.”
“No,” he blurted, causing her to pause a moment, “I mean… no, it’s not Edward. Eddie is short for Edmond, but I prefer to be called Eddie.”
She turned to him and finally smiled. His mother was already halfway to the Wisteria and this man hadn’t even noticed. She brought her face close to his and heard him inhale a quiet gasp.
“If I say your name is Edward, then it’s Edward,” she replied, drawing back and looking into the eyes of the strange man.
She watched him as he held her gaze. His reply would tell her more than she could have discovered in the five minutes of following him. She worried for a moment that there would be no reply at all. His eyes weren’t just holding hers, but they were somehow looking deeper. This was suddenly much more than a staring contest.
“Then Edward it is,” he said, breaking free from her stare and quickly turning toward the midway.
Shocked by his reply, and even more shocked by the audacity of his departure, she coughed. Perhaps she would have coughed anyway due to the amount of cigarettes she had been smoking, but she didn’t think so. Edward had shocked her. Her mouth hung open as she turned her head and watched him stroll casually toward the dance hall.
She observed as a postcard tumbled from the folded newspapers under his arm. He didn’t seem to notice as he proceeded toward the ballroom.
“Edward,” she mouthed, then finally calling to him, “Edward!”
He didn’t hear her through the mixed sounds of the carousel, the rollercoaster, and the cacophony of squeals and laughter of the park’s patrons. She shook her head as she started toward him. Something had occurred that seriously bothered her and now she knew exactly what it was. The mysterious man had looked into her soul and figured her out instead of the other way around.
This wasn’t the way that the world turned. She was the one who could always figure out anyone. She was the one who didn’t bow to the ways of the world. The world bowed to her.
She knelt down and picked up the card. Then she ran toward the Wisteria where Edward had just gone. As she approached the door, she was startled to hear the Charleston being played in the dance hall. Upon opening the door, she was astonished to see dozens of people dancing the Charleston out on the dance floor. Was the world changing all around her?
Edward was standing just a few feet in front of her watching the wild dancers. She walked over to him and held out the postcard.
“You dropped this out there, Edward,” she stated.
A smile of surprise lit his face as he looked at her. He never even glanced down at the postcard as he took it from her hand.
“Thank you, Brooksie. I’d ask you to dance, but… well, I don’t know how,” he said with a shy grin.
“That’s good because I’d rather not dance anyway,” she
said, crossing her arms and scanning the dance floor, “Is that really your mother out there?”
Edward laughed and nodded.
“She just… she doesn’t seem to fit in. Her crowd usually shuns the new dances and the new styles,” she said.
“Yeah, she’s a little different,” he said, watching her slowly become the star of the show.
His father wouldn’t be too happy about the number of other men attempting to join his mother. After seeing the way the dance floor lit up with excited dancers, the band promptly flowed into a fast-paced jazz song.
“I’ve gotta get out of here,” she grumbled, turning toward the door.
“Wait,” Edward said.
“Yes?” she said, turning to him.
He sighed and then shook his head. The words wouldn’t come.
* * * *
“You’d laugh or think I was crazy,” he said, walking down the midway beside her.
It was funny how she turned people’s heads. The first few times he looked at her, he just saw an old-fashioned woman with an old-fashioned hair style. Then when he looked closer, he started to see the beautiful woman that she was. When he saw the depth of her brown eyes, the shape of her face, and the fullness of her lips, he remembered the words of Rich. These were real people and they were beautiful at times. These were people that could attach Eddie to this world permanently. That’s when he decided to leave her as quickly as possible. He agreed to the name she gave him and rushed away.
Yet she followed him. Other people kept propositioning her to dance as she stood there next to him, but she shooed them off with a simple “beat it” or “scram”. The other men were enthralled by Brooksie, yet here was Eddie trying his hardest to get away.
Now they were walking under the midway lights toward the main entrance. She seemed to be holding in a question while they walked and when she finally blurted it out, he wondered how to answer.
“It’s not a hard question to answer. Just tell me what you saw,” she said.
He paused at the light post and then turned to her.
“I saw a real person. It’s one of those crazy thoughts that just tumble out and hit you like a brick,” he said with a shrug, “Imagine if you were walking along and you happened upon a crying child. You may not have any idea why that child is crying, so you just walk on by. But if you stop and see that child as a living person, you might be startled to see that the child is truly hurting and it doesn’t matter why. What matters is the pain or the need for comfort.
“I told you that you’d think I was crazy. When you’re unprepared for that… I don’t know. When it hits you, you just get shocked into seeing people in a different light.”
“Did you see anything else?” she asked.
She was fishing for something and he had no idea what it was. There was a constant fear in her eyes that he didn’t understand and perhaps that’s what she was looking for.
“I saw a beautiful woman who was afraid. Of what – I don’t know,” he said, “If you were hoping to find a prophet in me, I’m sorry to have failed you.”
She appeared to breathe a sigh of relief. Then she looked out toward the parking lot, but her poignant gaze settling on nothing.
“So, that leads me to ask… why did you run?” she asked, “If you saw a beautiful, frightened woman…”
“Am I in trouble for something? Are you like an undercover cop?” he asked.
She laughed as she drew out a flat metal case from her handbag. For a moment, he truly expected it to be a set of handcuffs. She opened the shiny case, revealing five cigarettes.
“No, I’m definitely not a cop,” she said, taking a cigarette from the case and then offering him one.
He waved a denial and watched as she lit the cigarette with a match.
“I ran because I was engaged to be married at one time,” he said, figuring perhaps that a portion of unrelated truth could appease her, “I found out that she loved someone else for nearly two months and I never even knew. I was a blind, ignorant, stupid sap. I think after something like that, running becomes a whole lot easier than it used to be.”
She nodded, smoking the cigarette like she was the most dignified woman in the universe. He wondered if they knew about the health warnings regarding cigarettes yet.
“It can change your outlook, that’s for sure. Some people get hurt like that and they can run for miles,” she said.
“So what brings you to Bethel Lake Park?” Eddie asked, “Do you live around here?”
She shook her head and then gave Eddie one of her piercing glances.
“I got hurt and I ran for miles. I ran for miles and miles until I finally ran out of gas,” she said, flicking her cigarette onto the ground, “I was good at filling the tank now and then, but I guess I stupidly forgot.”
“You literally ran out of gas?” he asked.
She nodded with a curious grin.
“About a mile down the road,” she said with a chuckle.
“Wow,” he said, “So what happens next? How do you get your car back?”
“I paid a gas station attendant five dollars to walk a can of gas to my car and then drive it here. It should be somewhere out in the parking lot now,” she said, “A 1927 Dodge Brothers Six.”
“And you trusted-”
She laughed, shaking her head, “I knew you were going to say that. After almost 2400 miles, I needed to get away from that car. If someone steals it, then so be it!”
“2400 miles?” he gasped.
“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone. It’ll bring about too many questions that I don’t want to answer,” she said, “Speaking of which, you’re becoming more trouble than you’re worth.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“It means that…” she said, shaking her head and looking down at the ground, “It means that I kind of enjoy talking to you. And talking can get me into trouble.”
She peered up at him, catching his subtle nod. The silence that filled the moment was almost satisfying.
“I was thinking the same exact thing,” he replied, “I really enjoy talking to you, but like you said - it could cause some problems.”
A smile tugged at her lips. Perhaps they shared a common fear – a fear of vulnerability. Even in the midst of a nice moment, they both realized when it was time to cut it short and move on.
“You should go find your mother,” she said.
“And you should go find your car,” he replied.
“Do you think you’ll…” she started.
“I’ll be here tomorrow night at 8:00,” he replied, “Will you be…”
“Eight o’clock at the Wisteria.”
“I’ll look forward to it, Brooksie.”
“I too, Edward,” she replied, stressing his new name.
4
June 2009
“Whatcha got there?” Carl asked.
“Just an old newspaper,” Eddie said, “I found it in my house.”
Not entirely a lie.
“Did you hear about the layoffs? They cut two VPs yesterday while you were out sick,” Carl said, “You’re lucky they didn’t cut you. What’d you come down with anyway – the new house blues?”
“Sort of...” Eddie said, not really listening to his cubicle partner.
“You admit it?” Carl gasped, punching Eddie in the shoulder, “You called off over-”
“No, man. I didn’t hear what you said,” he replied, rattling the newspaper in front of him, “I was reading this article about prohibition. The cops raided two underground bars in Silver Falls yesterday – well, uh… I mean, not yesterday…”
“How old is that paper? It doesn’t look old,” Carl asked, peering over his shoulder.
“It’s probably a reprint made to look like an original from 1928,” he said.
He closed the paper and started to fold it when he saw the headline on the front page: “Movie is put on hold while the search for Patience Webb continues”. Below that was a picture of a
beautiful blonde.
He read the article beneath it:
Patience Webb was two days into filming her latest movie “Dottie’s Diner” when she disappeared from the set. She vanished more than two weeks ago and no one has yet come forth with any information regarding her whereabouts.
Police Chief Robert Mitchell stated that they are now searching for Webb’s agent Lowell Barnes. Barnes was the one who reported her missing on June 10th. Although he was questioned extensively in the beginning, new discoveries about their relationship have surfaced. While foul play wasn’t considered probable in the beginning, new information has led investigators to consider this a possibility.
If anyone has information leading to the whereabouts of Barnes or Webb, they should contact the Los Angeles Police Department in person or by telephone at Main 3435.
Eddie glanced at the picture again and saw something familiar in those eyes. There was something about the sad, downward slant of her eyes that strongly resembled Brooksie.
“How far is it from here to Hollywood?” Eddie asked.
“Hollywood? A couple thousand miles, I guess,” he replied, “Why don’t you Google directions or go to Yahoo Maps?”
Eddie set the paper down and logged onto the internet. He quickly navigated to the Yahoo Maps site and set the coordinates from Hollywood, California to Silver Falls, Ohio. After a few seconds, he was presented with the extensive sheet of directions. At the bottom of the page, it stated “Trip Distance: 2381.06 miles.”
“It’s Patience Webb,” he whispered.
Saving Brooksie Page 4
