Ronald had played her other son, Steven, a lawyer for Hope Falls municipal courts. He was successful and a ladies man. Ronald was much the same in real life. She remembered their brief fling when he had started on the show, but they decided they were better suited as friends. He was like her son in real life too and they got along famously. She loved him with all her heart. That is why it almost killed her when he died. Four years after Stacey's death.
She had not known that he had a Lifetime Contract until after. She wished she had known, but what good it would have done was beyond her. The scene they had been doing that day revolved around Ronald's character. He was chasing down a mugger that had stolen some of Sylvia's jewelry. Miriam had watched from the side lines as the scene was played out on the set in front of her.
They had erected an alleyway, complete with fire escape and rough brick walls. The mugger ran into the alleyway and Steven had rushed in behind him. "Give me back my mothers belongings!" Steven had bellowed.
"Never, chump!" the mugger had replied, going deeper into the alleyway, into the darkness at the back of the set. Shadow covered him.
"Than I will take them back!" Steven yelled, "Here I come!"
Miriam had recalled from reading her script that the sounds of a scuffle would play out and Steven would come out of the darkness clutching the jewelry, bright in the lamplight. That did not happen however. What she heard instead was a muffled curse.
"What the hell are you doing?" Ronald yelled out of character. "That's not in the script!"
"Ronald?" Miriam whispered. She heard no reply and decided to try again. "Ronald?" Ronald!"
"Miriam," She heard the relief in his voice. "Thank god, Miriam, help me here. He's got a-"
There was the sound of a fight and than the soft sound of something slicing cloth. Miriam heard a grunt, another grunt and a sharp intake of breath. She heard a moan than, a soft, whimpering moan and it sent a shiver down he spine.
She watched as Ronald crawled out of the darkness, leaving a trail of blood behind him. He dragged himself along the ground, obviously in great pain. The mugger came out from the darkness behind him, a large silver knife held high like the moon. His arm descended and he stabbed the knife deep into Ronald's back. He withdrew the blade and stabbed Ronald again, and again and again.
Seven times in all, he had been stabbed.
Blood poured from the fresh wounds and she cold see a trickle of it coming from Ronald's mouth. For one, brief moment, his eyes met hers. Understanding was there. He knew what had happened. And with one final breath, his life left him. They had murdered him
TWENTY NINE
Miriam Survives a Crash
Miriam woke with tears on her eyes. Something had woken her. She sat in bed for a few minutes before she heard the click click click of her doorknob being jiggled. She waited until the noise stopped before she went out to her foyer. A white X was on the peephole again. She could see nothing but could hear no one outside her apartment. She
waited a few moments before opening the door.
At her feet was another box wrapped in crinkly black paper. Her name was on a white card that had been taped to the top. She picked it up and brought it inside, locking the door behind her. She looked at Caroline's picture on her nightstand and wondered what would be inside the box this time.
She opened the card first. Inside was a blank white card with the following written inside in a rough script
I am glad you survived the crash. Talking can be dangerous to your health. They have ears everywhere. Tread carefully, do not let your fate be like his.
Miriam shivered and watched as a snapshot of Ronald fell to the ground. Who was this mysterious X and why had he or she chosen to help her? If that was what they were really doing. She felt as if she were being threatened. The picture of Ronald smiled up at her from the floor.
Brushing a tear away from her eyes, she pushed aside the black tissue in the box and withdrew a small, white music box. She studied it for a while, listening for ticking. Deciding it was too small for a bomb, Miriam opened the box and stared inside.
THIRTY
Miriam revisits a death
Miriam opened the music box and listened to the soft tinkling as a sweet melody washed over her. The tune sounded like Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue, but she couldn't be sure.
Inside the music box was a folded piece of paper. She took it out and unfolded it carefully. The paper was white this time, to match the music box she supposed. On the paper were the following words:
A gift from me to you, from one friend to another. Trust in me.
Miriam threw the music box against the wall. "God Dammit!" She screamed.
It still played as it sailed through the air, as if the music was trailing behind it like a kite. When it hit the wall, it cracked and thumped to the floor but it kept right on playing its sickeningly soft melody.
She was sick of games, sick of people watching her, listening to her. X was apparently a friend, but he or she was just as bad as Howard and those behind the Lifetime Contracts. She was tired of being jerked around, of being played with like a puppet. It took a lot to piss Miriam off, but now her blood was beginning to boil.
Why would they kill off those with falling ratings? She didn't understand. What was the purpose behind it? Lifetime Contract my ass, she thought. She doubted that it was to keep the actors on the show if they were able to kill them off so easily.
She had been wracking her brain since this entire ordeal had begun and still couldn't think of an answer that satisfied her. Looking at the picture of Ronald, her thoughts turned to Jack. Sweet Jack. She had had a fling with him too, when he had started on the show but it had been intense and brief. He had played her husbands close friend Michael Malloway, a doctor at Hope Falls Hospital.
She had seen the rewrite, five years after Ronald's death and her blood had turned cold. She had no scenes to tape that day, but they sent all the actors the scripts anyway so that they could keep track of the stories.
Miriam recognized the blue pages right away.
*
… (INT: MICHAEL'S CAR. He is on his cell phone, rushing down a dark street, rain is hitting the windshield like needles, making it hard for MICHAEL to talk over the noise. He is yelling into the phone to his wife SHEILA)
MICHAEL: What? Darling I can't hear you!
(We hear SHEILA over the cell phone.)
SHEILA: I said, are you coming home now? It's raining pretty hard outside.
MICHAEL: I'm coming home now, sweetheart. It's just a little rain.
SHEILA: The radio said there was zero visibility.
(MICHAEL looks at the window wipers slapping away the rain, but he can not see anything in front of him but lights.)
MICHAEL: It's alright darling, I can see just fine. I'll be home soon.
SHEILA: I can't wait honey! You've spent so much time at the office lately!
MICHAEL: I know darling, but that will change, I—
(There is the sound of car horns blaring and MICHAEL screams as a truck slams into the passenger side door. His body is crushed on the impact, blood sprouting from where a piece of shattered window slices into his neck. SHEILA is still on the cell phone.)
SHEILA: MICHAEL! MICHAEL! TALK TO ME MICHAEL! MICHAEL!!!!!! GOD DAMMIT ANSWER ME!!!!!
*
She had arrived the next day and had seen the crushed car. They had smashed the drivers side door with another car they had on set waiting in the wings. The full on impact had killed Jack instantly. She had seen the blood on the stage floor before they had a chance to clean it up.
It was than that things had changed for Miriam, that she had realized that they were serious, deadly serious. It was no longer like some kind of game; instead it was s poisonous secret.
She made a vow than that her fate would not end up like Jacks, like Ronald's, like Caroline's. Otherwise, all their deaths would be in vain.
And Miriam didn't think she could do that to Caroline.
T
o Toby.
She watched the sun slowly begin to rise on a new day in Burbank. Today, she would put on another mask on top of all the other ones she wore and her battle for her life could begin.
THIRTY ONE
Miriam becomes someone else
"Oh, dammit, Nai!"
"Hold still, Miriam, I'm trying to put this shirt on you."
"You don't have to rip my arms off doing it, you know." Miriam said. She was huffy from lack of sleep. "And for Gods sake, can I open my eyes yet?"
"No can do girly girl." Susan said. "We want your new identity to be a surprise."
"I'm beginning to hate surprises." She still had not told them about X. That was one surprise she was keeping to herself. Even she was still entitled to a few secrets.
She knew she should tell them, but they were worried enough as it is. She didn't want to increase their worry over something that might be trivial.
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Susan asked. Miriam could feel the bristles of her make up brushes slide across her face, across the prosthetic nose that would be blended into her skin. Her eyes felt heavy with fake, dark lashes that famed her eyes like
spiders legs.
"I lost it somewhere after we ended up seat belted into an upside down car that had just rolled down a hill." Miriam said dryly. "You were both there, in case you forget." She sobbed, "Oh, god, God, when I think of how close we came to-"
"Must you bring God into everything?" Susan said, cutting her off.
"What do you mean?" Miriam asked, putting a hand to her throat. She never liked being reproached.
"Well, it's `Oh God, this, oh God that, why have you forsaken me, oh God, oh God." She smiled, though Miriam could not see it. "You sound like you're having an orgasm."
There was a snort from behind Miriam as Naomi burst out laughing. Soon, her she was bending over, laughing so hard that her face was as red as a tomato.
Susan was laughing too, which earned a grimace from Miriam. "It looks could kill now, Susan, if looks could kill." Miriam said.
"Oh, darlin'." She said with a flick of her curly brown hair. "That's no way to talk to the woman responsible for making you so beautiful. Besides, with your eyes closed, you can't look at me, so I'm home free!" She laughed softly.
This made Miriam smile. Naomi, for one, was glad to see it. It meant that Miriam had not lost all hope, that she still saw a light at the end of the tunnel, if she was able to find humor at such a dark time. She loved her friend like a sister and would kill for her if she needed to. She would do anything to protect her.
"Do you think we should let Miriam see what she looks like now?" Naomi asked. There was a lilt in her voice, an uplift. It made Miriam excited.
They were in Susan's posh home. She lived in an old brownstone apartment building that specialized in luxury apartments. Susan's was a little made of bright spaces, shiny, honey colored wood floors and bright open windows. The walls were painted a different color in each room. In the bathroom, the walls were a soft, rust colored red. There were mirrors on one wall, from one end to the other, which ran along the top of a long countertop. Susan's make up was spread out, in an organized fashion, along this surface.
"Nah," Susan said. "I don't think she should be allowed to see, seeing as she's been such an butt head."
Miriam made a noise of protest. "I have not been an butt head."
"Oh yes you have." Susan said.
"I am the least but head-like person I know."
Naomi snorted. "Tell it to the judge." She said. "And open your damn eyes."
Miriam took one look at herself in the mirror and let out a squeal of delight.
"Like it?" Susan asked nervously.
"Like it? I LOVE IT!" Miriam said. "I'm not even the same person."
"That was kind of the whole point." Naomi said.
"I do good work." Susan said and looked at Miriam. She was indeed a different person.
Her hair was glossy and shiny red. It tumbled down to her shoulders in lose curls, the hair just brushing her shoulders. Her eyes had been transformed into a startling green, the blue of her eyes hidden behind contacts. Her complexion had been made paler, gone was the sun kissed skin. Even her nose had been hidden with the prosthetic. Susan had wanted to slim her face down. Her lips were a stunning dark red. They looked pouty and glossy in the vanity mirror lights.
"God, how did you this?" Miriam whispered, looking at herself.
"God had nothing to do with it honey." Susan said with a smile.
"You look incredible, Miriam. Oops," Naomi said with a giggle, "I mean Sabrina…."
Miriam touched her face, looked at her lips, her eyes. "I'm beautiful." She whispered.
"You already were." Naomi said.
Miriam flashed her a look of thanks in the mirror. "I look fabulous. I even look like a Sabrina. I think I've always looked like a Miriam, but now…now I look like someone else."
"You're voice should be different." Naomi said.
"It should?"
"Well, yeah, think about it." Susan said, looking at Miriam in the mirror. "You don't want anyone to recognize your voice, do you? Talk deeper, sultrier. You're pretty, so most people won't really be listening to what you're saying." Naomi and Miriam glared at her. "What, it's true. Haven't you ever seen people's eyes glaze over when
they're talking to you? It happens, I tell you, it happens."
"How's this?" Miriam asked. "Is this deep enough?" Her voice sounded like a smoky, intelligent Marylyn Munroe.
"That's perfect!" Susan and Naomi said together. Sabrina White was born.
THIRTY TWO
Miriam practices being Sabrina
"What you gotta work on," Susan said, "is your walk."
They were in Susan's large living room. Its hardwood floors gleamed like mirrors and Miriam could see herself in them. "My walk?"
"Well, if you're going to fit in, blend in, be a super spy, you can't walk like Miriam, you have to walk like Sabrina." Susan smiled. "You'd be recognized. We have to assume that we're all being watched."
Naomi blanched. In her hand was a large tumbler filled with scotch. "Do you think we are?" She sounded nervous. "Do you think we're being watched right now?"
"You can count on it." Miriam said. "Oh, God!"
"There's that orgasm again." Susan said.
"Shut up," Miriam retorted, "I'm just so worried. It isn't just my life I'm fighting for; I'm fighting for yours now too."
"Do you think they will try to kill us?" Naomi asked.
Both Susan and Miriam turned to her. "Hello?" Susan said. "Naomi? You were in the car with us, remember?"
"Oh, yeah." Naomi smiled weakly and took a large sip of scotch. "Right."
Miriam shook her head and prayed for strength. "I just can't believe that they'd throw away three lives to get to one, so easily."
"Well, believe it." Susan said. "After today, there is no doubt in my mind that we're dealing with pros."
"They've had seven other people to kill." Miriam said. "Practice makes perfect."
Miriam looked down at the stiletto heeled, brown leather strap sandals that were part of her ensemble. She wore some of her new clothes. A chocolate brown suede skirt that dropped to the knee topped by a low cut poets blouse. Her legs were bare. "I feel
naked in this."
"That's the point." Naomi said. "We tried to dress you younger."
"But I'm a…forty year old woman."
"And I'm your monkey's uncle." Susan said after Naomi snorted.
"You, forty, that's hilarious!" Naomi giggled.
"Shut up Nai." Miriam said.
"Walk, Miriam, walk." Susan instructed. Miriam walked towards her. The heels hurt, but she got the rhythm of them soon enough and liked the sound of them clicking on the hardwood floor. "You are not a…forty year old woman, but a twenty five year old red head. Take a look at yourself."
Miriam took a look at herself in Susan's full length mirror and saw no trace of Miriam. Instead, she saw a pa
le faced red head. She had actually done it. She had actually done it, with a little help of course. And now she had her soft, sultry, sexy voice.
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