by Tom Holloway
“Nine billion give or take a few million. You could be one of the richest women in the world.”
Anna’s mother and Nikki are shocked, yet Nikki recovers fast, laughs, exclaiming to Anna, “You go, girl!”
I looks away, my eyes wide, tearful, then I feel full of anger. I whisper to myself, “Henry, Henry, you are so wealthy, just as you said. I said I never wanted your money. I want you for my soul mate. Don’t be stupid! You can’t pay me off. Please come back to me.”
I hear the older Mr. Beagle talking, and I try to tune back in; he is saying, “Miss Summers, also…” He hesitates. “We have been in touch with the president of the United States and John Jacobs, letting them know we represent Henry in any legal issues and, with your authorization, we would like to represent you also, in the event of any issues.”
There is dead silence. I am not looking at them, and then I react. “Yes, I am sorry. Seems logical. That works for me. Do you have any way of contacting Henry?”
“No, not like a phone. We have a laser beacon we turn on at the top of his building. He sometimes responds. We will turn it on for you if you want. Of course you have full joint ownership of the building, and you can turn it on without us.
“Last item, Miss Summers. My daughter is a big fan of yours, and she will be in LA sometime next month. Would it be OK for her to call on you? She is the same age as you. I thought you might need some company. Don’t answer now; when she calls, just let her know then. There will be no hard feelings if you are busy.”
I smile. “Of course she can call me. She is welcome to stay here, too. Don’t worry about the beacon. I am hoping Henry will contact me.”
Chapter 37
Possible Move to New York City
I see John Jacobs every day; he is becoming like a brother. He goes out to get groceries, does laundry, everything needing to be done. Other people could do this running, but John feels this is far too personal; he needs to be the one to care for me. It is too difficult to protect me if I go out. Thousands of people gather for the chance to see me. Photographers and camera guys and their news trucks, they are all also aggressive, anything for a photo of me.
He tells me, “The media people are everywhere, camped out, roaming around, searching your background, checking everyone who ever had contact with you. They are frantic for information on you. Much of the reporting is gossip or just not true. If there’s no news, they make it up.”
I have been in the house for four weeks, with no outside contact and refusing to watch the news, as it’s too embarrassing. Everything I ever did is under media scrutiny, from my being born to the first day of school to my natural father—every event and every person I ever talked to. They all act as if they’re close to me, yet most of them I never even met. All the photos taken of Henry and me, for example, by private citizens at the zoo or people on the bus in London, are worth huge amounts of money. These people are being paid for these photos.
I do not answer any phone calls. There are too many calls to respond to, so I gave up. The Secret Service answers every one, tracing every one of them. Thousands of calls come in daily.
I ask John if it is OK to call my business agent, Jeanie Cox. He says he will hook up a secure line since foreign countries may be hacking my calls. Finally, a day later, I call Jeanie.
“Jeanie, it’s me, Anna, your long-lost friend you never call.”
Jeanie, talking fast, excited, responds, “Anna, my God, is it you? I can’t believe it!”
She continues, “My god, I’ve called you every day for a month, ever since the day. I can never get through; it’s constantly busy. I thought maybe your phone was off the hook, and no way will your Secret Service let anyone visit you. The president of the United States is easier to see than you. You have the entire US Army out there. And there are thousands of people wandering around, trying to get a glimpse of you. I think they think you married Jesus. Saying that, did you marry him? Are you pregnant?”
“Oh brother, where did you get that from?” I reply.
“Anna, someone saw you coming out of a doctor’s office, and a reporter bribed the receptionist. You know how it works. Vegas odds are three to one you are pregnant. Same odds he’s coming back. Maybe not good odds if you want him back.”
“Why do people care?” I retort.
“Anna, are you kidding? You are a legend in your own time. Every single person on this planet knows your name. You are the most famous person ever. Henry coming to Earth is like Jesus coming! You are like the Virgin Mary, except not a virgin. They are naming babies after you and Henry, and video games are named after you. Every country in the world wants to know what you know. By the way, how was Henry in bed? He is hot—good taste, girl. I would not kick him out of my bed. Does it work like every man’s equipment, or did you have to help him?”
Angry, I exclaim, “Jeanie, I am close to hanging up!”
Jeanie, talking faster, sounding anxious, responds, “Lord, please, don’t hang up! I’m sorry. I am just giddy that I’m your agent, and everyone in the world wants you. You have any movie you want; all the talk shows across the world want you, willing to pay massive amounts of money. You are a shoo-in for the Academy Award nomination, and probably the award, too. Since there is a possibility Henry is coming, per your invitation on the day, the Academy Awards will be the highest rated show on television, thanks to you. By the way, this is brilliant on your part. And, by the way, every foreign country will be there—the top guys, not just ambassadors. They all think Henry will come. You are his woman; some say you are a princess from another galaxy hiding out here. Henry rescued you.”
“Anna, even the pope wants to talk to you. Something about the Gabriel thing you talked about on the London bus intrigued him. You were being taped, and on video the two of you looked real close. You looked horny. He is handsome, even if he is an alien. The girls of the world are cheering for you. And if you get tired of him, there are fifty million women who will take your place. Did you ride on his starship, no pun intended?”
“Jeanie, hush. You are on some kind of high! Calm down. I can’t talk about any of it. This phone conversation is probably being taped by at least fifty wiretaps. What do you mean by the day?
Jeanie acts surprised, exclaims, “What? You know, the day; it’s the day Henry came down from his starship, guarded by his soldiers, all of them with halos, looking like God’s angels. The day you told him he better come back, and he said he would try his best. The day he gave you the locket, which is now worth millions according to the talk shows, if anyone could get it off of you. It was leaked that you wear it twenty-four hours a day, and it will grant wishes.”
“If it granted wishes, don’t you think I would be asking for them?” I say, “What do you think?”
“Anna, I think the whole world is nuts. Everyone is curious, though. Another question for you. Remember speaking in an alien language, saying good-bye to Henry? They have it on tape. He said ‘Calabra,’ and then you said it back. What does it mean?”
A long pause; nothing is said. I am too shocked to respond. Finally I say, “This is absolutely nuts. The world has become a crazy place! It is not a big deal. On the day I said ‘Calabra’ to Henry I was saying good-bye. It means ‘May the divine light embrace and guide you’!”
Jeanie lowers her voice, talking slower, “Anna, that is more than crazy; that is godlike! Does Henry heal people? This is a lot better than Jesus! Please tell me!”
I laugh, retort, “I am glad I don’t have to talk to all the people you talk to, much less listen to them.”
Jeanie replies, speaking much slower, in a low voice, “Honey, I’m serious now. Be careful! Actually, you need to know, the world has become dangerous; something more serious—you don’t know this—did not come from me. You remember James Algeir, your old flame who turned into a jerk? He was saying some pretty weird things about you and Henry to some reporter, and then Algeir disappeared. No one has heard from him since. The reporter has also become real quie
t. As you know, your stepfather disappeared. There are others in other countries, just gone. They all have some connection to you or Henry. Some think it’s the government hiding something, and they are behind it, kidnapping these people.”
She continues, almost whispering, “Sweetheart, of course nobody, me included, talks about Iran. I don’t have to tell you, as I figure you know everything there is to know. Maybe that’s why they guard you; maybe it is really a prison. On the other hand, don’t leave there. I am not kidding; there could be millions of people who would come to see you, anywhere you would go, to go there just for a chance to see you. Just to touch you. Some think you can read minds, something you did at a dinner party. That you’re telepathic. Henry supposedly gave you the power. Are you telepathic?”
Silence, no response from me.
Jeanie waits for me to answer, finally smiles, knows her answer, and adds affection in her voice and now feeling her confidence back, quickly saying, “Darling Anna, I don’t think this—yet, just so that you know, as a heads-up. Some think you’re an alien, too, and maybe immortal. They say you also have the ability to heal yourself. When you were at the doctor’s, he noticed you had a blood chemical content different from any human, and you instantly repaired yourself; the needle mark just disappeared right after he gave you the prenatal vitamin shot.”
She continues, “The doctor told someone who then told reporters you might be immortal. Of course he is not talking to anybody now.”
Anna, be careful, they might dissect you. You are safe because they are afraid of Henry, really afraid. They do not think he is human, and they wonder about the baby. Some say it is the best thing that could happen for Earth; some say it’s the worst. As long as they are afraid of Henry, you probably will be fine. By the way, apparently Henry said if anything happened to you, the accountable parties would suffer a thousand deaths. He could do it; who could stop him?”
She continues, talking fast again, “Be careful, girl. Let me know when you’re ready to come back to work. Everyone wants you, millions of dollars. Of course, wait until after the baby is born. You have that glow, the one-in-the-oven glow. I will be at the Academy Awards, too, sitting five seats behind you. You will be showing. The ticket cost me thousands! Worth every penny. I love you! If you talk to Henry tell him I love him, too. Got to go; bye, sweetheart!”
John Jacobs is knocking on the door. He does not stop and opens the door. Coming in, he says, “You look tired, Anna. Are you feeling OK?”
I grin. “Yes. John, who needs a father with you around? I was just talking to my business agent. She says my career is taking off as long as I have an army to protect me.”
“Anna, that’s just the right thing to talk about. Thanks for bringing it up. We need to move you to Henry’s New York penthouse; it’s much safer. Henry said it is like a fort, and the energy source works for the drones, or the slips. Most of the slips protecting you have gone into hibernation, with no energy source. Henry’s slips are the most serious defenses we have to protect you. I think your locket is your primary defense against other aliens, although I am not sure. I am sure you are safer there, also safer from a human threat. It is humans we worry about. Just think about it, as I think we have time, though not a lot. Maybe move next month. I know you don’t want to go, but just think about it.
“Anna, something else: Judy and the kids could come out and visit you. The kids are out of school. I know you are lonely. Might be fun for you, change of pace.”
“Yes, I would like that; I adore your family. Just give me some dates. They would stay here of course. Also, I know you would tell me, but you have not heard from Henry, have you?”
John sadly responds, “I am sorry, Anna. Nothing.”
I shake my head, hear my mother calling for dinner, then say, “John, have dinner with us.”
John says, “Sorry, no time. I have a meeting with the Pentagon, a conference call. Thanks! Next time. By the way, are you still practicing with my second gun, the nine millimeter, the Walther? You might need one someday.”
I respond, “You will be proud of me. I practice every day. I am actually good with it. I like using it, too, sort of makes me feel good, can’t explain it. I want to buy one.”
Chapter 38
Issues
The dinner is wonderful. My mother always comes through for me. Over all the years she has protected me, loved me no matter what. She never said a critical word about Henry, nothing about getting pregnant, as in how stupid it is. Nikki is the same, just fantastic, really my best friend, just fun and good to everyone I know. I feel blessed.
Mother and I clean up the dishes together. We laugh and joke.
“Anna, it’s been weeks now since the doctor’s appointment. Are you due to see him at the sixty-day point?” asks Anna’s mother.
“Yes, Mother, next week, on Wednesday. Are you coming?”
My mother beams, “Yes, you cannot prevent me, looking forward to it. My little girl having a baby, can you believe it? You are two months pregnant, with seven to go, and I will have a grandson. I think it will be a boy. I know Henry is not here, yet could be worse. At least you will never have money problems, and you never need to work again. My grandson will be able to go to good schools. I am so happy for you, and my grandson, too.”
She continues, “By the way, I think you are showing just a little, although no one will notice. You are still in good shape. The daily workouts and swimming keep you looking good. You are a beautiful girl, and I am so proud of you. If Henry never makes it back, you will be fine. Nikki and I will always be here for you.”
I smile, then walk over to where she is sitting and I hug my mother, telling her I love her and I am very lucky to have her.
She smiles, looking up at me: “Anna, also, is John Jacobs still giving you gun-shooting lessons? I agree with him; you need to be able to defend yourself. You are a target now. There are some wicked people out there. I think Sam was involved with the Mafia. He knew it was dangerous, yet he was pulled in, trapped, even forced to do things. I am not sure all that happened, as he never said; he did not want us to be part of it. I worry it might have cost him his life.”
My mother continues, “Anyway, we all need to get out of this house. This will be the first time you have been out of the house since the last doctor’s office visit. I suppose security will be tight as usual. I guess John and the rest are planning a military campaign to get you there. No matter, it will be good to get you out of here. Nikki and I are both coming.”
I respond, “Yes, Mother, it’s a major deal. They are evacuating the streets between here and the doctor’s office. It will be partially lined with troops. I am not sure all this is necessary. Why would anybody hurt me?”
Looking at my mother, I laugh at her expression as if I have lost my mind, and then say to her, “Hey, I am getting good with the gun John loaned me. Maybe at some point I can take care of my own security.”
My mother laughs, too, saying, “Anna, by the way, I got a call from someone named Anthony saying he knows you and Sam. He had some information for you and said to call him. He had a heavy New York City Italian accent, almost hard to understand him. Do you know him?”
“When did he call?” I ask.
“Yesterday. Why, who is he?” Mother replies.
“He is Luca Deforleo’s son,” I reply.
“My God! Do you think he has information on Sam? Please call him right away,” Mother exclaims.
In a heavy New York accent, he says, “Anna, thanks for calling me back. I am Anthony Deforleo, Luca’s son, a friend of your stepfather’s. I know ya! I know you’re famous, too. I guess we are introduced now—by phone.” He laughs. Then there’s a long pause. I don’t respond, regretting I called him.
He quickly says, “Don’t hang up. Just so ya know, we have your stepfather; he decided to take a little vacation—with us. Please tell your mother. To be up front with you, his life depends on us. Ya know about me, right? Ya know who I am, and you know my father
? Your papa was our partner, our buddy; he has been for years.”
I am now anxious, really alarmed, not sure what to do. Damn! If only Henry were here. I say, “All right, what do you want from me? Do you need money?”
“Anna—‘Na’—of course not; ya got me wrong, absolutely not! No worries, I just want a visit. I won’t bite you. I am taking my corporate jet to LA today and thought we could hook up. I can tell you all about your father. He suggested I call ya, wanted you to meet me. And, my first time there, maybe you show me around and we have a good time. Ya end up having a little time out of that prison you are in.”
No response from me.
Anthony continues, “I think we could be friends, maybe more. I’ve seen your movies, and I’m sure lookin’ forward to spending a little time with you. I guess ya know about me, too. I’m famous, too, just in a different way—like notorious!”
No response from me.
Anthony laughs a wicked laugh, saying, “We are goin’ to get along great, Anna. What if I pick you up at five thirty, your place? We could go out to dinner and see where the evenin’ goes. I am up for anything. Afterward we could go back to your place. I don’t have a hotel reservation—figger I don’t need it. I thought I might stay a few days with you, so we can get to know each other—maybe really well.” Laughing, he says, “Ya knows what I mean. Your papa needs you to do this, if you know what I mean. I will tell ya all about him. I know your mother is worried, too, needs to know.”
I hesitate, saying nothing, a little tremor going through me, and then fear in my stomach. I feel sick.
Anthony says, “Are ya there, Anna? Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” I reply. “I hear you. Tonight at five thirty is good. I will make reservations at a good restaurant, and I will meet you there. You need to get a hotel reservation; you will not be staying here. I expect to hear a full report on my stepfather.”
Anthony says, “No problem. Don’t bring anybody if you want me to talk about your father. Ya can make it a really expensive restaurant. I’m treatin’.” He hangs up.
