The Future Scrolls

by Fern Michaels

  “Hmm. How about some television?”

  “Oh, Danielle Arnold from the Brooklyn, I thought you would never ask! Can I watch some trash?”

  “What?!”

  “At home Papa will not allow me to watch the television. He says there is nothing but trash on the tube.”

  “Well, for once I agree with your papa.” Dani laughed as she picked up the TV guide.

  “Right now you don’t have much of a choice. You can watch a Seinfeld rerun, the news, or Walker, Texas Ranger.”

  “Whatever,” the child said airily.

  Once Maria was settled in the small, tastefully furnished living room, Dani beat a fast retreat into her bedroom. God, what was she going to do with this kid? Was she telling her the truth? She nodded to herself. The child just wasn’t telling her all of the truth. In the morning she would call the airlines and make some inquiries and then she would call customs and, if need be, she would call the United Nations. It wouldn’t be too much of a problem to take the day off. At least she would have a long weekend to decide what to do with Maria. Monday she would have to be back at work. Lighting another cigarette, she decided to close the drapes. As she looked out into the night, a lonely feeling washed over her. Dragging her thoughts away from things that could never be, she looked down into the quiet street. Across from her apartment building, two men posed nonchalantly in the doorway of the opposite building. Something in their manner appeared out of whack. One of the men looked pointedly upward. Inexplicably, Dani stepped behind the drapes. Too many old Bogart movies, she chided herself. Still, she didn’t reveal herself for a second glance, for at the back of her slim neck was the light, icy touch of fear.

  Dani removed her knitted pantsuit and slipped into a green terry robe. She smeared some cold cream on her face and tied her hair up in a knot on top of her head before she brushed her teeth and hung a week’s worth of clothes back in the closet. Her tasks finished, she marched into the living room. Maria looked at her in awe. “Will you be beautiful when you are finished?”

  “You can bet on it,” Dani answered sarcastically. She had to be smart, too, Dani sighed, shaking her head.

  As Dani suffered through two additional hours of inane television, Maria basked in the light from the eleven-inch screen. The more stupid the program, the better she liked it.

  Promptly at ten, Maria was sent into the bathroom and the set was turned off.

  “There’s an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet,” Dani called to the child’s retreating back.

  The sofa bed made up with extra blankets supplied from the stuffed linen closet, Dani fluffed up the pillows and sat down to wait. When Maria emerged from the bathroom, her hair was piled on the top of her head and her rosy cheeks were covered with a creamy white substance. “Will it work for me?” she questioned. “I would like to be beautiful when my papa sees me.”

  “Honey, you are already beautiful. You don’t need trappings,” Dani responded warmly to the solemn face.

  “What is this ‘trappings’?” Maria asked curiously.

  “Just some American slang,” Dani smiled, making a mental note to speak only the King’s English to this strange child.

  “I adore the American slang,” Maria said, bouncing on the sofa bed. “My friend Anna and myself bought the American slang dictionary and the nuns confiscated it from us one night. But,” she added cheerfully, “I did learn quite a lot first.”

  “What did your papa think of that?” Dani asked dryly.

  The girl’s face clouded momentarily. “He was not too happy. He wants me to grow to be the perfect lady.”

  “Don’t you want to be a lady?”

  “Absolutely not! I have the wish to be the go-go girl,” the child answered seriously. “Do you know how to go-go, Miss Arnold?”

  That should set Papa on his ear! Dani smiled to herself but answered soberly, “I’m afraid not Maria. I lead, for the most part, a very dull life.”

  The innocent guest looked crestfallen at her words, but perked up immediately. “Then will you teach me to swear?” At her hostess’s horrified look, she hastened to explain, “I would not say the words out loud, Miss Arnold. I just want to know them in case of emergency.”

  And that, Dani muttered to herself, should set Papa on his other ear. “Actually, Maria, in this dull life I lead, I don’t swear either. Sorry. Now come on, under the covers and I’ll tuck you in. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.” Quickly, she bent to straighten the covers and to give the child a quick peck on the soft, smooth, greasy cheek. Maria threw both arms around her neck in a stranglehold and gave her a smacking kiss on the lips.

  “I think you will be the best friend ever, Miss Arnold, next to Anna,” she added loyally.

  Dani gently disengaged herself from the child. She withdrew a tissue from her robe pocket and wiped Maria’s cheek, forehead, nose and chin. “Now you look truly beautiful,” she laughed. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

  “Oh, I will sleep, Miss Arnold,” Maria sighed happily. “The monk of Mendeneres will protect me . . . and you, too, Miss Arnold.”

  Three

  Dani climbed wearily from her comfortable bed, feeling like she hadn’t slept at all. Glancing in the mirror, she groaned. There were deep purple smudges above her cheekbones. Her heavily lashed eyes looked dull and lifeless. Trudging back into the small bathroom, she peered into the mirror again.

  Maria poked her head around the corner of the door. Her small face registered shock at Dani’s appearance. “Perhaps later in the day it will work,” she comforted.

  “What will work?” Dani snapped.

  “That stuff you put on your face last night before you went to bed.”

  “Go!” Dani shouted imperiously. “Don’t talk to me till ten in the morning. I’m a bear. Now scoot.” The child backed away from the door and scuttled to the unmade sofa bed. Eyes downcast, she sat with folded hands.

  Mulling over the words of her new friend, Maria sighed. Why did it take older people so long to get together in the morning? She looked around the small living room at the bright, colorful furniture, rich browns and deep tones of gold with bright orange pillows. Deep, comfortable chairs and a fireplace. Suddenly the phone pealed in the kitchen. Miss Arnold had closed the bathroom door, making it clear that she didn’t want to be disturbed. Maria would have to answer it and take a message. She wouldn’t interrupt that secret time in the bathroom a second time for the world. “When I get older I certainly don’t intend to glue and paste myself together in the morning,” she muttered to Bismarck as she marched into the kitchen. Bismarck added his agreement by curling up at her feet and purring contentedly.

  “Hello,” she said softly.

  “Dani?”

  “No, this is Maria. May I help you?” she asked cautiously.

  “Maria, huh? Well now, that depends on what you had in mind,” came the deep-voiced reply. “Is this 555-7732?”

  “Just a moment, I have to look. Yes, you have the right number. Did you wish to speak to Miss Arnold?”

  “Well now that I’m on the line it wouldn’t be such a bad idea—that is, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” the voice chuckled warmly.

  “Well,” Maria hedged, “it is not exactly convenient. Perhaps you would care to leave the message. I would see that she receives it as soon as she puts herself to . . . What I mean is, I will see that she gets the message.”

  The voice chortled. “She’s putting on her war paint, right? By the way, just out of curiosity, to whom am I speaking?”

  “I am Maria Magdalene Mendeneres. And to whom am I speaking?” Maria asked coolly.

  “I,” the voice replied huskily, “am Stanislaw Stashvitsky. But you may call me Stash. All my friends do. If you’re a friend of Dani’s, then you’re a friend of mine.”

  “Thank you. And you may call me Maria. Now as to the message . . .”

  “Never mind that message jazz, just bang on the door and tell Dani to get the lead out. I don’t
have all day. I have an establishment to run.”

  “Ah, Mr Stash . . . should I repeat the message exactly?” Maria asked in a jittery voice.

  “Verbatim, kid. You’ll be doing me a big favor if you hop to it right away. I have a lot of irons in the fire today.”

  “Very good, Mr Stash. I shall attend to it immediately.”

  Maria tiptoed into the bedroom and rapped softly on the bathroom door. “I am sorry to disturb you, Miss Arnold,” Maria all but gurgled, “but there is this . . . this person on the telephone who says to deliver to you the message immediately.”

  Dani opened the door and peered at the child standing in front of her. She didn’t fail to see the dancing eyes and the merriment the little girl was trying to conceal. She waited.

  “The message is . . .” Maria giggled, “is to get the . . . the lead out, he doesn’t have all day and he has an . . . establishment to run, and”—she groaned as she tried to stifle her laughter—“he has irons in the fire.”

  Dani smiled. “Did he say his name was Stash?”

  Maria nodded. “And he has the most scrumptious voice. Is he your unrequited love?” she whispered conspiratorially.

  Dani laughed. “Afraid not honey. Just a very good, dear friend.”

  Maria looked crestfallen. “Does that mean he will be around to pick up the pieces? I read that once in a romance novel. Anna’s older sister buys trashy books and Anna managed to sneak one to class.”

  “No, that isn’t what it means,” Dani said crossly. “And stop worrying about my love life. Romance novels yet! Why aren’t you reading Goose Bumps or Nancy Drew?”

  “Love is so much more interesting,” Maria chirped, as she perched on the kitchen chair stroking Bismarck, who was nestling in her lap as though he belonged there.

  “Hello, Stash, how are you?”

  “Fine, and yourself. How’s it hanging, Dani old girl? Did the Clarence Darrow of tomorrow get off all right last night?”

  “Yes,” Dani replied, her voice brittle. “And thanks for the use of your car.”

  “Anything for you, Dani, you know that. What say we take in a movie tonight? Dinner first, of course. Bring your friend.”

  “My friend happens to be all of ‘ten-and-onehalf’ years old.”

  “So, I’m charitable. Bring her along.”

  “Not tonight, Stash, but thanks for the offer. I will take a rain check, though.”

  “Dani, how about something a little more definite ? Like, when are you going to see all my sterling characteristics and realize I’m the only one for you? I’m yours, just ask me.”

  “You are an outrageous flirt. One of these days I might take you up on the offer and then what would you do? Someday, you’ll be standing in the right place at the right time and there, looking at you like you were the only man on this earth, will be the one for you.”

  “Promise, promises,” Stash chuckled. “OK, I just wanted to know if everything was OK. I have to buzz off now. I’ll drop by in a day or so. Tell the kid I said goodbye.”

  “Thanks, Stash. Stop in anytime.” Dani replaced the phone and watched Maria squirm on the chair, her head cocked at an angle.

  Unable to control herself a moment longer, Maria asked excitedly. “If he isn’t your love, why isn’t he? He sounded so . . .”—she searched for the right word—“delicious!” she said triumphantly. “Just delicious!”

  “Actually, delectable is a better adjective.”

  “I adore the way he speaks,” Maria babbled. “Shall I meet him? What kind of an establishment does he operate? And what exactly does get the lead out mean?”

  “He runs a coffee shop of sorts. But he has a lot of sidelines. He has a boat he charters for fishing parties and, when he has nothing to do, he plays the guitar. And ‘get the lead out’ means to hurry up. And before you ask, he looks like a Viking. He is also one of the nicest people in the whole world.”

  “How magnificent. I cannot wait to see him. But” she added loyally, “there is no one as handsome as my papa. Women turn to stare at him all the time.” She watched Dani carefully, waiting for her reaction to this statement. She was disappointed. “Perhaps you should consider this Stash as an alternative to your unhappy affair. What I mean is, you are unhappy, are you not? I saw you cry yesterday and there appears to be nothing around here to make you unhappy. Perhaps I may be of some assistance to you. In the romance Anna and I read, the lady did not sit by the phone waiting for it to ring. She went out and made it ring.”

  “What?” Dani shrieked. “What kind of story was that?”

  “This lady went out and met all kinds of men and gave them her phone number and then they all started to call her. They called her a hooker. I think it had something to do with the number of phones she had in her house. She had so many calls that the first phone was always busy. But,” she added unhappily, “I did not get to finish the story because Anna lost the book. Actually I think Carmen, a friend, took it when Anna wasn’t looking.”

  “I thought you said you went to a convent school,” Dani choked.

  “I do,” Maria said happily. “Oh I just love it here,” she said, dancing around the kitchen holding Bismarck in the crook of her arm. “What shall I do to help, Miss Arnold?”

  Dani sighed. “Well, for starters, why don’t you call me Dani? After all, anyone that sleeps on my sofa bed, wears my nightgown and eats my food, not to mention taking care of my cat and giving free advice to the lovelorn, should be allowed to address me as Dani.” She held out her hand and Maria offered hers, and both shook hands solemnly.

  “Does this mean we are the good friends?” Maria asked, beside herself with happiness.

  “Yep. Friends. You are now one of my best friends. So set the table. That’s what friends are for.”

  Dani removed a bag of frozen waffles from the refrigerator and popped them into the toaster. She poured blueberry syrup into a small saucepan and heated it. She then plugged in the electric percolator to prepare her caffeine fix for the day. “Do you want milk or juice?”

  “I’ll have Pepsi Cola,” Maria responded.

  “You’ll have juice and like it,” Dani said, pouring a small glass.

  Maria grimaced, but accepted the juice and the plate of steaming waffles. “But this is very good,” she said, munching thoughtfully. “You do very well without a maid.”

  Dani grinned. “It’s a question of survival. I like to cook. This is nothing. I can whip up a gourmet meal in nothing flat. As a matter of fact, I intend to write a gourmet cookbook some day,” she said proudly.

  Dani poured herself a steaming cup of the fragrant coffee and sat down. “I think we need to decide what to do with you. Do you have any suggestions?” At Maria’s negative nod, she continued. “Then we had better start with the airport and your luggage. Next we’ll go to the embassy. From there, if we have no luck, we’ll send a cable to your grandmother. Does that meet with your approval?”

  The child chewed industriously. “Yes, Dani. I cannot imagine what happened to my papa. He must be very worried about me.”

  “Why didn’t you just wait at the airport? You could have had your father paged. Perhaps he was just late arriving at the airport.”

  “But Dani, I did wait. For three hours I waited. Something must have happened to my papa. He would never have been three hours late. He is very punctual, and he demands punctuality of others,” she said seriously.

  “Did you think to call the embassy yourself ? Didn’t your grandmother give you any instructions before you left?”

  Maria shook her head. “Grandmother was in bed with a severe attack of the rheumatism. Felix drove me to the airport and pinned the note to my coat. I felt like a baby,” she grimaced.

  Dani smiled. “I agree. You are a bit big to have a note pinned to your coat. I’m surprised that you didn’t take it off.”

  “I did,” Maria grinned in disgust. “Actually, I removed it three times and three times I pinned it back on.”

  “Come on. We�
��ll leave the dishes and do them when we get home. Get your coat and I’ll get my jacket. It’s windy out.”

  Bismarck watched as Dani and Maria slipped into their coats. He continued to glare at them, his long tail swishing furiously, knowing he was going to be left alone. Slowly, so as not to catch Dani’s attention, he lazily stalked over to the door and stubbornly placed himself directly in their path. Through half-closed, yellow glittering eyes he measured their movements. Just as they were about to leave he stretched his long body across the threshold and closed his eyes tightly.

  “Come on, Maria, your hat looks fine. Let’s get out of here before Bismarck notices.”

  Maria ran to the door breathlessly. “I’m ready, Dani.” Then seeing Bismarck, she fell to her knees, a worried frown pinching her pretty features. “Oh, Bismarck, are you ill?” she asked soothingly. “Does your stomach feel funny? Dani . . . hurry, something is wrong with Bismarck!”

  “Well, I guess you didn’t hurry fast enough, Maria; the jig is up. Bismarck caught us getting ready to leave. You can’t come with us, Bismarck,” Dani said sternly.

  “You mean there is nothing wrong with Bismarck—he is just playacting?” Maria questioned, a look of appreciation for Bismarck’s talent evident in her face.

  “I guess we’ll just have to let him out, so he can visit his light o’ love over on the vacant lot around the corner. Otherwise, we’ll have a tug of war trying to pry all eighteen pounds of him out of our way.”

  Upon hearing Dani’s conviction that he would be allowed to make his rounds that morning, Bismarck stretched, pulling himself to his feet as though waking from a sound sleep. Casting Dani a disdainful look, he waited for the apartment door to open and followed both girls out into the hall, then waited with them for the elevator to take him to the ground floor. Once out on the street, they parted company, Maria with an exuberant wave of her arm, Bismarck with a quick flick of his bushy tail.

  The ride to the airport was mixed with “oohs” and “aahs” on Maria’s part. Dani leaned back against the seat and wondered what she was going to do with the child if she wasn’t successful in locating “Papa.” She had to return to work on Monday. Her job at the publishing house, where she was a junior editor, was a necessity if she wanted to survive. Besides, she knew if—when—she wrote a gourmet cookbook, she would stand a good chance of being published if she managed to stay employed in the industry.