Keeper of the Moon - By Harley Jane Kozak Page 0,55
to Sailor.
“The guy sat next to her at lunch on the set, and they went out for drinks that night. Which she needed. A drink, I mean, because of having to work that close to water, you know? And the guy was really sweet, she said, and at first she thought he just wanted to do something nice for her, get her some auditions. But then he was calling her like three or four times the next day, wanting to date her.”
“But she didn’t tell you his name?” Sailor asked.
“No. She didn’t want me to Google him. We had this thing where we’d tease each other, like I threatened to call him up and say, ‘Dude, she’s just not that into you’ if I heard her talk about him one more time. So what I think happened was, the night she died, I think she agreed to meet him for a drink, just to let him down gently. And then, you know, he—did what he did to her. That’s what I think anyway, but I was out all day at a rehearsal for Jumpers, the play I was doing at school, so I have no proof, plus I don’t even know the guy’s name. So that’s why the cops blew me off.”
Declan looked at Hank to see how he was taking all this, but his attention was on a pair of small, well-worn pink skates lying in a shoe box. He put his hand over one skate, covering it completely, and Declan could imagine him putting the skates on tiny feet, lacing them up with big beefy fingers, tying double knots. Be careful, he would have told the little girl before sending her off onto the ice.
A few moments later Sailor was saying her goodbyes, and she and Declan walked down the street in silence. After a time he said, “You did well. That wasn’t an easy interview.”
“That sucked,” she said. She was as subdued as Declan had ever seen her. “How did you find Hank?” she asked.
“The tabloids found him. I know people who own the tabloids. It wasn’t hard.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Want to tell me what went on in the Council meeting?”
“Give me a few minutes. I don’t want to think about those people now.”
“There’s a surprise.”
“Don’t be sarcastic with me just yet, Declan. I’m too sad to put up a fight.”
“All right, we’ll fight later.”
The daylight was dissolving, growing less harsh. A smell of orange blossoms hit them as they walked. The old neighborhood was filled with citrus trees, the branches reaching out over picket fences to the sidewalks. Sailor dodged one, leaning into Declan, and he put his arm around her without thinking.
“I’m imagining Ariel on the beach all day,” she said softly. “Ten, twelve, fourteen hours, no trailer to escape to because she’s just an extra or a day player. But she’s an Elven, so the sound of the surf is terrifying, and no one understands except another Elven, but maybe she’s the only one, so she hides how hard it is for her. She tells herself how exciting it is to be working on a movie set, how cute she looks in her bikini. She thinks, ‘It’s just one day’s work, but it could lead to something bigger. I just have to be the absolute best, brightest beach volleyball player there ever was. It’s what I’ve dreamed of all my life.’ But time moves so slowly on a film set, and no one cares about the comfort of a day player. And when they say, ‘Moving on’ or even ‘That’s a wrap,’ she’s so relieved she can barely stand it. And some nice man, some Other, he offers to buy her a drink, he recognizes her as Elven, he knows what she’s just been through. And she’s so happy to be able to tell someone just what it was like, and he understands, he knows what it is to dream of the movies, to want to act so badly you’ll do anything. You’ll hide your terror of water, you’ll do things that are dangerous, bad for you. And he becomes her friend just by listening to her, and then telling her what she wants to hear, that she’s good, she’s special, she’s got the look, the talent, he could see it right away, she’s destined to be a star, and he can help her.”
Declan pulled her in close, and she didn’t resist. It seemed the most natural thing in