Mackenna on the Edge

by Djuna Shellam

  “But it’s pretty damned obvious Deirdre has a huge drug problem—and chances are she probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow, okay? What she said didn’t mean anything and…” Eve’s voice trailed as she realized it did mean something based on Mackenna’s flinch. She added quickly, “It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s just… I… I understand… and… God, Mackenna, you don’t have to leave,” Eve pleaded, desperation evident in her voice.

  Mackenna stopped what she was doing momentarily, and though she was obviously addressing Eve, refused to look at her directly and spoke more to the room in general. “Eve, aside from the fact that I was completely humiliated in front of several of my peers and potential future employers,” and you, she thought. “I just don’t want to be here anymore. I came here to forget about… certain things. Instead, I was reminded of them ten-fold tonight—in front of a hundred or more people—and by Deirdre of all people. Jeezus. I need to go back where I feel safe and… I…”

  “Then don’t go alone, Mackenna—let me go with you.”

  “No.” Mackenna shook her head. “You’re working and besides, I need to be alone right now. I have work to do and I need time to finish… sorting some things out.” Mackenna continued to pack, carefully arranging clothing in the soft black canvas travel bags.

  “Like Alice,” Eve offered gently.

  “I told you, Eve, I’m not going to talk about her, so don’t bother, all right? I’m getting out of here and there’s nothing you can do or say to make me change my mind. I’ll pay for the room until you’re finished shooting so don’t worry about that—and your room will be waiting when you come home.” Mackenna stopped packing.

  “I’m not mad at you, Eve. You’re important to me, but please don’t talk to me about things I don’t want to talk about right now or I will be mad. I’m not staying and I won’t talk about her. And I absolutely do not want to talk about Deirdre and what happened tonight. I don’t want to talk about anything,” she reiterated as she began, once again, to pack.

  “This whole thing was a terrible idea and I knew it. I should never have let you talk me into it. It’s not your fault—it’s mine.” Mackenna stuffed the overflowing clothes into the last bag and yanked the zipper closed with purpose. The violent sound of the large, heavy duty metal fastener declared Mackenna’s unwavering intention with a vengeance. Eve’s gut cramped.

  Mackenna continued talking as she first put on her long black cashmere winter overcoat and then hoisted the strap of the largest bag onto her left shoulder, the weight of it tilting her slightly to one side.

  “I’m not blaming you and I don’t hold you responsible in any way for what happened tonight, Eve, but it was just a bad plan from the beginning. Dammit, I knew it.” She grabbed the other bag, balancing out her frame. Mackenna began walking toward the door, avoiding Eve’s wide, hurt filled eyes and said, “I’ll see you when you get back.”

  She struggled only slightly with opening the door despite the awkwardness of her burden, such was her determination to get on her way as soon as possible. Midway through the door, however, Mackenna turned slightly back toward Eve and muttered, “I’m sorry,” before rushing out of the room.

  Eve was dismayed, incapable of movement or speech as Mackenna pulled the door closed behind her. She slumped onto the bed and tried to think about the recent events, wondering how everything got so completely out of control—and so fast. She felt as if she had just suffered through another devastating earthquake. Eve fought back tears of frustration. She had failed Mackenna miserably, she knew that, and had awful visions of how everything that just happened might affect her, especially if she was bent on facing everything alone. Damn.

  Eve put her head in her hands and tried to think of a plan of action. A quick solution. She was hard pressed because she knew if she didn’t hurry, Mackenna would be long gone—and then what? Eve didn’t even want to think of the options. No, after Deirdre’s not-so-charming soliloquy it was very clear to Eve what had been troubling Mackenna all this time.

  It was a shocking revelation—Mackenna’s secret about Alice—but not surprising given the circumstances surrounding Mackenna’s and Alice’s ill-fated relationship. Eve realized it finally explained Mackenna’s awkward hesitancy regarding her own presence and whatever feelings had emerged between them. Oh god, it was all becoming too clear.

  Eve felt completely powerless to stop the inevitable train wreck hurtling toward Mackenna with the speed of sound. She had to do something. She couldn’t convince Mackenna to stay—that was pretty clear by Mackenna’s obvious absence—but maybe she should just dump the film and go with her. No, Eve decided finally, Mackenna wanted to be alone and Eve wasn’t about to disrespect her wishes.

  The minutes ticked by with Eve becoming more and more desperate in her thought process, wracking her brain for some solution that wouldn’t leave her frantic for Mackenna’s safety. Something that might even help Mackenna in some way. It wasn’t that she felt she owed Mackenna anything after her extreme kindness in her own hour of need, and it wasn’t because of their past connection through Alice. Though both circumstances carried some weight with Eve’s resolve to rush to Mackenna’s aid, the real weight, the overwhelming weight was more of a feeling—a darkness—that was becoming darker by the minute. Eve just wasn’t yet able to grasp the significance of it. It was similar to how she felt shortly before the earthquake, and before the accident, and before nearly every significant event in her life. It was a feeling she never completely understood, but in the past, she never realized until after the event that how she felt prior to it might have some relevance. This time, she felt a strong, overwhelming compulsion to actually do something—and right now.

  But she couldn’t think. Time was running out and she was having difficulty managing her thoughts. Nothing was clear. Eve’s most immediate concern was to keep Mackenna from the edge—the edge in Mackenna’s case being alcohol or worse. Mackenna never said as much, but Eve knew from the past that it was something Mackenna had unsuccessfully battled before. She knew the consequences for Mackenna succumbing under the present circumstances could be fatal. Was it still a problem for Mackenna? Eve didn’t know, but just the idea of that possibility was driving Eve frantic, making it nearly impossible for her to conceive of an immediate solution.

  What if Mackenna was already on her way to the airport? Could she manage to catch up with her and if she did, what could she say to her? Please stay? She had tried that tact already and it clearly wasn’t successful. Give me an hour to convince you why you should stay? Well, it was way too late for that, Eve conceded. No, Eve reminded herself, she needed to concentrate on the crux of Mackenna’s flight. Deirdre or Alice. Was it Deirdre, or what Deirdre said about Alice?

  Eve began to pace, looking at her watch every fifteen seconds, as she searched her mind for clues. It couldn’t be just Deirdre, especially after her revealing and damaging commentary about their life together, even though Eve’s first impression was that Mackenna was crushed by Deirdre’s departure. But as for Deirdre’s horrifying revelation—even though it explained so much—Eve just couldn’t and wouldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to, but all roads undeniably led to it. True, Deirdre was obviously under the influence of one substance or another, but what she said didn’t seem to be the fabrications of a fried brain. No, what she said was the rantings of someone who had been terribly hurt herself.

  Eve glanced at her watch again. Shit. No matter how she tried to look at it, Eve knew it was true about Alice—everything Deirdre said, and didn’t say, was sadly and obviously true. She had to accept it, despite wanting to find some other explanation for Mackenna’s sudden flight.

  Yes, yes, yes—it was all about Alice. It was Alice and only Alice. Alice. Of course. That was it! The answer she’d been searching for. Eve’s heart began to race as she ran to the bureau, almost driven by an invisible energy, yanked open a deep drawer and began digging furiously through her clothing. She pulled out a stack of several books, pawed
through them as she looked for one in particular and upon finding it, hurriedly, but carefully, placed the remaining books back in their hiding place and then bolted toward the door, book in hand.

  18.2

  Eve pushed her way through the lobby doors of the hotel just in time to see Mackenna pull the back door of a yellow taxicab shut. She vaulted down the steps just as the vehicle began to slowly pull away from the curb, only to stop again for traffic. “Wait!” she screamed, and then at the doorman, “Stop that cab! Please… It’s an emergency!”

  The puzzled doorman looked at the woman standing before him—out of breath and obviously having a crisis of some sort.

  “Please! Help me! Stop that cab,” Eve begged. “It’s a matter of life and death!”

  Overcome by the sincerity and desperation in Eve’s voice and manner, the doorman finally blew his whistle and began to run toward the cab, waving his arms with Eve following close behind. Just as the taxicab began again to pull into traffic, the doorman rapped on the passenger window and frantically motioned for the driver to stop. Mackenna’s head turned swiftly as she at first stiffened with alarm, only to relax somewhat at the sight of Eve who was at the heels of the doorman.

  The vehicle came to an abrupt stop as Mackenna hesitantly rolled down her window. “What is it, Eve?” she asked, annoyed. Her eyes appeared tired under the street lights, puffy and rimmed with red from crying.

  “I couldn’t let you leave without…”

  “Eve, I’m leaving and that’s final—I thought I made that clear.”

  “You did, you did, but —”

  “JFK, driver. Please.”

  The taxi driver put the car in drive and began again to pull from the curb.

  “Wait!” Eve screamed. “Driver, please…” she begged. “Mackenna, please, please, please, just listen to me for a second, all right? One second.” Eve stared into Mackenna’s eyes.

  “Driver, wait” Mackenna conceded. “Okay Eve, I’m listening.”

  Eve thrust the book through the window, holding it out for Mackenna who merely stared at it. At that instant Eve wasn’t sure why she was there, why she even thought the book would help and found herself frustrated and at a complete loss for words. Mackenna quickly became impatient and glanced nervously in the driver’s direction, prompting Eve to quickly explain.

  “This book is really important to me—and I think it could be to you, too. I’d like you to read it before… Well, maybe it can help you somehow… I don’t know. I don’t know. It just occurred to me you might find something in it and… Oh god, just please, read it—if you want. Okay? Here.” Eve again pushed the book toward Mackenna. “Just… be careful with it, Mackenna. Okay? It really means a lot to me—everything sometimes—it’s not easy for me to give it to you right now, but I think it’s so important for you to read that I… I’m willing to take the chance.”

  “Eve…” Mackenna tried to push the book back at Eve.

  “No, no, I want you take it with you. You don’t have to read it, but if you want to… please at least look at it before…”

  Eve looked directly into Mackenna’s eyes again, this time searching for even a hint of what she suspected Mackenna’s motives for leaving were. Their eyes remained locked for several long seconds before Eve continued. “Just don’t do anything drastic before at least looking at it.”

  “Eve, I don’t know what you’re talking —”

  “I know, I’m sounding somewhat cryptic and maybe I don’t even know what I’m talking about, but I’m just asking you to look at it. Please.”

  Mackenna merely nodded and finally accepted the book, which she placed in the black bag beside her, shoving it in between clothing.

  “I’ll see you when I get back, all right?” Eve’s voice revealed her doubt.

  Mackenna nodded without commitment.

  “Okay,” Eve conceded regretfully. “’Bye.”

  Eve attempted a half-hearted wave as the yellow cab cautiously crawled into traffic and headed for the airport. She shivered. Whether it was from noticing for the first time since running outside without an overcoat the bite of the winter temperature, or the bad, ever-darkening feeling she wasn’t ever going to see Mackenna again, Eve couldn’t be certain. Either way, she was miserable.

  NINETEEN

  Giant Leap

  The first time I met Alice Irene Hollywell I can safely say I fell immediately in love with her. It wasn’t difficult to do. She was girl-next-door beautiful, gregarious, funny, charming, warm and extremely likable. I loved everything about her. Her friends called her Hollywood, in part because of her last name and partly because she actually was from Hollywood, California. Her father had been a B-movie actor and her mother still worked for one of the major Hollywood studios, which made her even more Hollywood-authentic and deserving of the nickname.

  I, too, came to call her that sometimes as she and I, over my first few weeks on Goodfellow, grew to be best friends. We practically grew up next door to each other in California, but found we had as much in common as we had not in common.

  Alice was everything I had ever wanted to be; moreover, she was everything I thought I ever wanted in the person I hoped to be with the rest of my life. Unfortunately for me, my feelings and my desires weren’t Alice’s—not exactly. The majority of the time I was with Alice as her friend, I can easily describe as being the most painful in my life up to that point. Eventually, as we became lovers, though, my time with her was the most wonderful in my life. Historically, good times in my life have been brief, and my time with Alice was no exception. She made choices tha

  “Dammit!” Mackenna stopped typing mid-sentence and flung back into her father’s chair, resting her head against the leather back. She was stuck and felt herself slipping closer to the edge of the abyss that still seductively beckoned her. Not only could she not bring herself to write about Alice with the fluidity and honesty that had flowed so easily in her earlier autobiographic writing, but she couldn’t even keep her mind focused on what she was doing. Despite being in the protective cocoon of her own home, everything and everywhere she looked seemed to remind her of Eve, and it was nearly driving her around the bend. Back in the safe haven of her home in Bel-Air, where she hoped to escape from the real world, and specifically, the reality of Eve, she was failing and failing miserably.

  Upon returning from New York, Mackenna’s low spirits had lifted considerably, but as the hours wore on, her mood once again began to rapidly slide. She again had to force herself to venture into the library to pick up writing where she last left off in New York, but even after dragging herself in and sitting for two hours mentally wrestling with herself before turning on the computer, her mood wasn’t improving.

  She was undeniably depressed; but worse, after nearly twenty years of self-imposed sobriety, Mackenna was craving the comfort of alcohol in the worst way, and she felt the familiar spinning sensation where she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

  For some reason, alcohol was Mackenna’s own personal demon she had battled since shortly before the horrible incident eighteen years earlier. Although she maintained strict abstinence in regard to alcohol, she didn’t abolish other drugs from her life because they never attached themselves to her psyche like alcohol did. Admittedly, there was a time when cocaine became a vampire of sorts for her, but that was a different type of addiction altogether, created by the drug itself and not her own desire to drown her pain. For her, even opiates such as hashish and opium were recreational—social vehicles that somehow lacked the damaging, addictive nature of alcohol. But even the so-called recreational drugs eventually lost their appeal to her to the point where, ten years earlier, she began to pass them up without even thinking about it. Even cigarettes, despite her occasional cravings, were more easily tossed by the wayside in exchange for a healthier lifestyle.

  Still, in spite of adopting a more restrictive diet and a somewhat relaxed version of the New Age body philosophy, her recent mental state was d
riving her straight to her nemesis—The Demon—and she didn’t know how to stop it. Sometimes she allowed herself to acquiesce to the old wives tale that the Irish and liquor couldn’t and shouldn’t mix—that that was the explanation for her weakness. But she knew it was more than that. It had to be. That was how she had made it through eighteen years of alcoholic sobriety, by not accepting the easy explanation that she was genetically weak—a pre-destined drunk.

  Now, however, it was difficult if not impossible for Mackenna to just brush aside the premise of that odious tale, when she was filled with such a craving to drown her emotional pain she could hardly stand it. Right now she felt like a junky, but the monkey on her back wasn’t a drug she needed to stick in her arm, or a powder to snort or a pill to pop. No, it was much more dangerous and luring than the most dangerous of drugs: it was a past begging her to indulge once again to keep it hidden, a present hiding from the past and a future riding on the outcome of all of the above.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  “Is everything ready?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Then let’s go,” Mackenna said very business-like. She immediately handed two black bags to the young steward as she gave destination orders to her Captain. She glanced quickly around the luxurious mega-yacht and then went down to the master suite, followed by the head steward, where she would ride out the short trip to Catalina by taking a nap. At least she would try. She instructed the steward to leave her bags on the king size bed, asked to not be disturbed when they reached the island, and then politely dismissed him.