IT TAKES A THIEF


She stole his Celebrity.

He saw The Celebrity first, an Oscar winning writer who’d gone on to critical acclaim in TV. Most people probably wouldn’t recognize The Celebrity but he did and his mistake, the forgetting to turn on the alarm and make sure the back door is locked, was he told her. In truth he barely knew her, only as an acquaintance, and he’d dismissed her as rather dull with her Lands End wardrobe and Keds sneakers. He had no idea she would absorb his confidence and immediately stand and walk over to The Celebrity. He watched in amazement while phrases like “I’m a big fan of your work” wafted across the grass. He froze in hopes that if The Celebrity looked over, he would be absorbed into an immobile tableau.

After a minute or two The Celebrity left and she walked back to where he sat. “Well!” she chirped, “That was a good connection for networking!” Her voice was unnaturally high and pinched like a spokesperson on TV for Technical School. His first instinct was to ignore her like you ignore a fly in the car until you open the window and it just flies away. But as he stared at her cartoon smile, he imagined her head bursting like a pumpkin on a road. He saw her hair begin to smoke and her Spinster Bob combust like a hornet’s nest. His eyes would widen as the pig’s blood dripped down his shoulders and the gym doors slammed shut. He searched his body for scars he could use to recall pain and use the pain to take him away from her and her satisfied grin.

She was not playing The Game and for that he would banish her from the kingdom. There was no excuse for living in LA and not knowing how to play The Game. It was the most accessible game in town, Celebrities being as common as slot machines in Vegas markets. He felt ignoring the Rules, especially the Rule of Restraint, takes you out of play, off the field. After all he had faith in Rules, without them we would all just be crazy fans wearing chicken suits up in the Nosebleed Section. Without Rules, he could not depend on anyone and would never throw them the ball again.

Her satisfaction made her mistake worse, she was almost gleeful over her delinquency. Hell, he thought, she probably broke Rules all the time. Don’t tailgate, it will not get you there faster. Don’t reach the register not knowing how you want to pay. Do not ever approach a Celebrity (anyone can do that), attract The Celebrity so that they approach you. Chancier, he knew, but the payoff was greater and he felt closer to the Truth, if there was any Truth to be found. He’d test Reality, bringing to the table his conceptions, images and ignorance of someone’s Celebrity and compare them to who they were at that moment with him. He was challenged to take a Flat World and transform it into a Sphere. Approaching The Celebrity like she’d done only reinforced Life as a Plate and he resented her lack of imagination.

The next day she came over to him. “I wonder if Alan has been here today?” Alan, her closest friend now. Let me call Alan and ask him. Maybe Alan will want to see that movie. Alan, are you there? It’s me, pick up! He steeled himself to turn and startle her by screaming, “ALAN WHO? ALAN I POINTED OUT YESTERDAY AND YOU TALKED TO FOR THIRTY SECONDS? THAT ALAN??” Instead he looked away, her comment thudding to the ground at their feet. Cheater, he thought. Spoiler. Flat World Map-Maker.

“Look at the light on the hills”, he finally suggested. “Isn’t it perfect?”

He didn’t know if she looked or not but after a moment of silence she stood and said goodbye. Shortly someone sat next to him. “The light here is amazing, isn’t it?”

He turned to see who it was and smiled. “Fucking wild” he replied.

The man extended his hand. “Hello, my name’s Alan.”

1:14:33 PM    sro home /