The Ayatollah's Money

by Richard Dorrance

  Chapter 25 – Great Day

  Laleh sat on the granite steps of the Charleston Library Society and watched people walk up and down King Street. Some of them walked with a purpose, and some of them strolled without purpose. She felt more kinship with the latter than the former, and that was because she was, at present, without an abiding sense of purpose in her life. This didn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying life; just that she wasn’t doing much to make the world a better place. She still was staying at the June’s house and hanging out with them, spending a lot of time with Shim, which both of them liked, and meeting a few of the June’s friends, like Gale the Mouth and Little Jinny Blistov. Both of them were a riot; so different, and yet they got along well together, Gale giving Jinny shit nonstop, and Jinny teasing her back in spades. When she felt the need to be by herself she took the dog for a long walk. It wasn’t as good for the dog as when Shim was house-sitting, because he used that as an excuse for not laboring at the new book; but it still was pretty good, because Laleh liked to explore her new place by herself, just her and the dog. When she didn’t feel like walking, she would leave the dog at home and go to the library, sitting inside in one of the big overstuffed leather chairs, or sitting here on the steps, watching the flow of traffic.

  Everything about Charleston was new and weird for her, even with Gwen and Gale teaching her about its customs and traditions and history. Gale was a fashionista of the highest order, and she had made it her mission to raise Laleh to that lofty height. When Gale had met Laleh, and seen Laleh’s figure, she had said, “Oh my God, when I get done with you, the Charleston men are going to go positively insane. Are we going to have fun.” And Laleh had to admit, it had been fun. The first time they had gone shopping, Gale had had to suss out Laleh’s financial situation. She did this by holding a slinky silk dress up in front of her and making her look in the mirror. Laleh liked what she saw. Gale then held the price tag up for her to look at, which said $1895. Laleh said, “Ok,” and Gale never looked back after that.

  The shopping expeditions with Gale had taught Laleh something about her money. It wasn’t that important to her, so she didn’t think about it much. Gale thought about Laleh’s money more than Laleh did. When Laleh wanted something, she bought it, and that’s it. She paid a lot of the restaurant and wine bills she racked up with the Junes, and then forgot about being able to pay them. She hadn’t expected this when she planned the theft back home. She knew then that she needed money to leave home and make a new life for herself; and she knew she wanted to stick it to the symbol of everything she hated about her culture. She didn’t know at the time that she would end up with the $100 million. She figured a guy like The Aya would have a bunch socked away for a rainy day, and that was what she hunted for, and she had found his secret account. When she saw how much was in there, she was shocked. But she said to herself, if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing right, and she had swiped the whole enchilada. Now what? What to do with the money? What to do with her time? What to do with her future? She leaned back, put her elbows on the second step above the one she sat on, and closed her eyes. She let her mind drift and filtered out the sounds of the street below, the kids yelling, the rubber tires on the road, the rap song leaking out of the windows of a passing car. Something nagged at her, something she’d seen a week ago, something that was very new to her and represented something she knew little about, but that intrigued her. She couldn’t remember if it was something Roger had said, or something she had seen on one of her long walks with the dog around the historic district, or maybe something she had seen on TV. That was a trip, American TV. It was the only thing that made her think maybe the The Aya was right when he called America the devils playground.

  Her memory ticked from one thing to another, one place to another, one dialogue to another. It wasn’t something someone had said, like Gale or Jinny. It wasn’t something she had seen on a drive outside of town, and it wasn’t something she had read about in the newspaper or on her computer. What was it? Keeping her eyes closed, she stopped thinking, and let visions sweep through the memory banks. Click. There it was. It was a place. A room, a really big room, and she was sitting on a chair elevated above the floor of the room, and up in the high ceiling were rows of big lights. Next to her, also sitting in a chair, was Gwen. Click, there it was, an understanding of the vision. It was The Hall, the theater Gwen had taken her to twice and where she told her about the two productions she and Roger had done there over the last three years, a ballet and a rock opera. Gwen and Roger owned The Hall. That was it. That was what she wanted to do; something in The Hall. A production. But what? She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Gwen’s number.

  “Hi Hon. What’s up?" Gwen said.

  “Can you meet me at The Hall. I have to see it. I have to be there.”

  “Why. Anything wrong?”

  “No, I just want to be there, and talk with you about something.”

  “Shim didn’t ask you to marry him, did he?” Gwen was only half joking.

  “What? Get married. Now. Good god no. I just escaped one prison.”

  “I won’t tell Shim you said that.”

  “Will you meet me?”

  “Yes, half an hour. Shall we have a picnic?”

  “What’s a picnic?”

  “See you. I’ll bring the booze.”

  It took Laleh twenty minutes to walk from the library to the theater, where she waited for Gwen, who showed up ten minutes later, dog in tow. The dog was happy to see his friend, and Laleh was happy to see Gwen, and everyone entered through the side door and and sat down on the stage, the women in chairs and the dog at their feet. Gwen turned on the lights and the air conditioner, and put a Renee Fleming CD on the sound system. She said, “What’s up, girl?”

  “I’m not sure, but it has to do with this place. I like it, the vibes.”

  “There’s been a lot of action here recently, and a lot of creativity, and a lot of famous people have stood on this stage. There are vibes here.”

  “People like who?”

  “Well, like Catherine Deneuve, the French actress, and Mikhail Baryshnikov, the dancer and actor, and Pete Townshend, the songwriter and musician, and Renee Fleming, the opera singer, and Paul McCartney, and David Gilmour, the guitar player, and Christine McVie, the songwriter and singer, and Alicia Keys. Half of them for the ballet and half for the rock show. Lots of action, including a few episodes of guns being waved around. It all was lots of fun.”

  “Was Stirg here, too.”

  “Yes he was.”

  Just then someone banged on the stage door, and Gwen let in two guys from McCrady’s Restaurant. They carried in three large wicker baskets, and promptly set up a picnic dinner on two of the large folding tables they brought out from the wings. There were white table clothes, china plates, cutting boards, and Riedel wine glasses. It wasn’t the first time these guys had set up a dinner on the stage in The Hall. They poured glasses of burgundy, opened containers and spread the food on the platters and boards, and left. Gwen said, “That’s a picnic. Hungry?”

  Laleh was somewhat hungry for food and very hungry for the wine. They ate a little and drank a little, and then Gwen repeated her question, “What’s up, girl?”

  Laleh poured herself a second glass of wine and said, “I think I know what I want to do here. Here in Charleston. Now.” Gwen nodded encouragingly. “I want to make a movie. A film. Here.”

  “Here in Charleston?”

  “No, here. Here in this place. The Hall. It’s got the vibes. It’s talking to me.”

  Gwen looked around the theater, back at Laleh, and poured herself more wine. This was unexpected. A refugee from Iran, never been out of her country, never been to the States, didn’t know what a picnic was, wanting to make a movie inside a small 800 seat theater. “How are you going to make a movie in a place like this? What kind of movie?” She didn’t ask, 'Have y
ou ever done this before?'

  But Laleh read her mind and answered, “No, I’ve never done this before. But there’s lots of things I’ve never done before, that I think I will do in the future. Like, maybe, get married. But not now. Now, I’m going to make a movie in here, if you’ll let me. I can pay for it.”

  Gwen didn’t ask any more questions, she just waited for Laleh to gather her thoughts. She waited, sipping her wine, for Laleh to tell her all about it.