The Second Messenger By FireWire

Story No. 10

A man is sitting in the waiting room of a psychologist's office. At the urging of his new girlfriend, he volunteered with her to participate in an experiment involving a molecular process which occurs continuously in all animals: the second messenger's amplification of the first messenger's signal to a cell in the body.

A woman opens the front door and walks into the waiting room.

"Hi. Are you here for the molecular communication study?" she asks the man.

"I'm the man. I'm early. Didn't want to take a chance on the traffic. My girlfriend is on her way.”

"I'll be right back,” the woman says and walks into one of the adjoining rooms.

She comes back wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard. “Are you Walter Wembly?"

"Yes.” He hands her a completed questionnaire which she attaches to the clipboard.

"I'm Rachel. I'll be administering the study.”

"You're young for a psychologist, aren't you?"

"I'm not a psychologist. I'm a technician. I assist Doctor Weaver when she conducts studies. Follow me. We have to calibrate the sensors.”

They walk down the hallway, enter a room containing a table and two chairs, and put wide bracelets on their left wrists.

"I was expecting to be wired all over with stick-on sensors,” Walter says. “What's the deal?"

Rachel holds up the clipboard and reads, “This study is designed to measure a particular molecular relay in the brain. This relay occurs when the first messenger, a neurotransmitter on the outside of a brain cell, sends a single, extraordinarily powerful signal to the second messenger, a receptor inside the brain cell. The second messenger amplifies that signal throughout the cell by creating a cascade of molecules.”

She puts down the clipboard.

"I don't get it,” Walter says.

"The doctor wants to measure the degree of correlation in the brain between love-at-first-sight and the emotional excitement that follows. Sort of like putting a match to the fuse of a rocket tube and watching fireworks light up the sky. That's why a bracelet is used. It's hard to fall in love with someone covered in sensors.”

"Oh,” Walter says.

"Normally the doctor supervises the bracelet calibration, but she's not here yet. Each session averages half an hour and six couples are participating today, so we'll calibrate the sensors in the bracelet to prevent the study from being delayed.”

"OK.”

Rachel picks up the clipboard and reads, “To Calibrate the Bracelets:

Step 1: Each staff member looks at the other in silence for one minute.

Step 2: The staff members converse for five minutes.

Step 3: Verify the level of bracelet readings fall within the listed levels on the wall chart.”

Walter chuckles. “Now, I get it. I have one minute to light the fuse and five minutes to explode the rocket.”

"This is just the calibration process. The actual study session has several procedures with various time lengths.”

"I don't need a lot of time,” Walter says. “Love-at-first-sight is love-at-first-sight.”

Rachel stares at him.

"Your eyes tell me you don't believe in love at first sight,” he says.

"I don't recall ever experiencing “love-at-first-sight.” Or second sight. Or third sight. With me, love takes a while.”

Walter shakes his head. “You've led a sheltered life.”

Rachel lays the clipboard on the table. Taking a stopwatch from her lab coat, Rachel says, “It's time to calibrate the bracelets. We will begin the one minute of staring at each other now.”

She starts the stopwatch.

After 40 seconds, Walter winks. Rachel bats her eyelashes. Walter chuckles. Rachel smiles.

Stopping the stopwatch and starting it again, Rachel says, “Now for the five minutes of conversation.”

"For a woman who has led a sheltered life, that was a quick comeback,” Walter says.”

"I'm a stage actress. I'm used to ad-libbing.”

"An actress. What a coincidence. I'm a producer.”

"What kind of producer?"

"TV commercials.”

"I watch TV at night. Do you have any running now?"

"Actually, I work with producers. I'm learning the art. As soon as the right opportunity comes along, I'll start producing.”

"I'm kind of in the same situation. I'm playing minor parts and two of the plays I've written are under consideration for production.”

A period of silence follows, before Rachel asks, “How long have you been working with producers?"

"Seven years.”

Rachel looks at him. “Seven years! I have been acting in school plays since I was in the seventh grade. In the eighth grade, when the teacher said I couldn't play a lead because I wasn't right for any of the parts, I started writing plays to make sure I had a part that was right for me. I didn't wait for the right part to come along.”

She pauses.

"I have to admit it's been difficult in the two years since I graduated from college. Going from a star player every year in high school and college to a bit player is hard. Going from writing plays that were produced every year in high school and college to plays that are always under consideration is hard. On the other hand, I'm not waiting for the right opportunity to come along. I know I have the talent to be a success, and I want to be a success, so I'm on the street everyday knocking on doors.”

She pauses again.

"By now you should know how to produce a TV commercial and have contacts in the industry. Make a commercial and shop it around.”

Walter shakes his head. “To have a commercial written, hire a production crew, and hire actors costs a lot more than I have. I haven't even been able to think of a story line that will sell. I'm going the producer-for-hire route.”

After several moments, Rachel says, “Here's a storyline for you that doesn't even have to be ad-libbed. A man drives his new Corvette out of the dealer's showroom and stops at a light in the city. The car behind him taps his bumper. The man is steamed. He throws open his car door and leaps out—ready to punch out the driver who bumped him.”

She pauses to let Walter get the picture of events. Then she says, “As the man turns to face the car behind him, the camera shows the expression on his face changing slowly from road-rage to confusion. He glances to the left, then to the right, and then back towards the car behind him. Suddenly, he turns to the right and sprints across the street while dodging honking cars. He enters a shop, emerges seconds later with a bouquet of roses, sprints back across the street, dodging honking cars, and comes to a full stop beside the car that bumped him. The camera shows the man's smiling face. Then it shows the man slowly handing the roses forward. The camera moves ahead of the offered roses, upwards along the body of a woman in shorts and a crop top. It stops at the smiling face of a beautiful woman.”

After a few moments, Walter says, “Sounds kind of goofy. Who would buy it?"

"City floral associations.”

Walter is silent.

"You have a nice face and build,” Rachel says. “You can be the Corvette owner, and I'll be the beautiful woman. Get someone who can film, and you'll have a commercial to sell.”

Rachel looks at the stopwatch. “Five minutes is up.”

She tears off a corner of the sheet of paper on the clipboard, writes on it, and hands it to Walter.

"Call me when the commercial is ready to film.”

A month later, in the early evening, Rachel is in her apartment reading the BackstageJobs. com want ads, when her phone rings.

"Hello.”

"May I speak to Rachel Lee please.”

"This is Rachel.”

"Rachel, this is Anne Stanley. I am the Executive Vice President for Human Resources at Hollis Industries, a 32 billion-dollar company. Are you familiar with our company? Some of our consumer products are Elite refrigerators, washers and dryers, Samson air conditioners, and Sinsu TVs and electronics.”

"I'm familiar with all those brands.”

"Good. Hollis needs your assistance for a short time tonight. I would like to come to your apartment and explain. Since time is of the essence, we will pay you well for a few hours work.”

"How much?"

"$30,000 . . . cash in advance.”

"Come on over.”

"I'm standing outside your door.”

Opening her door, Rachel sees an attractive, middle age, woman. Rachel invites her in, and they sit down on the living room sofa.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Anne says. “Here's my card.”

Rachel takes the card and looks at it. “What can I do for you?"

"As I said on the phone, the time available for your assignment is extremely short. In fact, it must be completed within the next four hours, so I will be brief. If you need more information, you can ask questions when I'm finished.

Rachel nods.

"Two days ago, you were hired by Executive Productions to hand out brochures at a convention for the International Association of Helicopter Manufacturers. During that convention several members of Hollis' AirCat Helicopter team saw the owner of Stark Industries literally watching your every move. He was not only watching, but taking pictures or videos of you with his cell phone. From what we know of him, and we know a lot, his behavior was so completely out of character that one of the team members initially speculated Mr. Stark was high on cocaine.”

Anne pauses.

"A connection exists between Stark Industries and Hollis Industries that isn't public knowledge. The owner of Stark, Paul Stark, and the owner of Hollis, David Hollis, are first cousins who have never spoken to each other because of a 70-year, bitter family feud in the extreme. Stark Industries is a conglomerate with product lines similar to Hollis, but is located in Germany and is slightly larger than Hollis. Both Mr. Stark and Mr. Hollis are young men who recently inherited ownership of their companies. As individuals they share common interests and have similar personalities. Mr. Hollis is in his early 30s, married, and an active sportsman who plays tennis and golf. Mr. Stark is in his late 20s, single, plays tennis, golf, and soccer. Both men are reserved when dealing with people outside their family and close friends, which is what brings us to you.”

Ann looks at Rachel. “Are you with me so far?"

Rachel nods.

"Mr. Hollis admires Mr. Stark as a person and as a businessman. He wants to end the feud since the cause is now irrelevant after 70 years and involves neither of them. But, because of the intensity of the feud, Mr. Hollis has not had a way to offer the olive branch in a way that might be acceptable to Mr. Stark.”

Rachel holds up her hands. “Let's stop right now. I don't do anything illegal, illicit, or immoral. Not even for a quick $30,000.”

Anne opens her briefcase and takes out a small white envelope. In a soft voice, she says, “All Mr. Hollis is requesting you to do is to hand this envelope to Mr. Stark and tell us what he says after he reads the note inside.”

Rachel hesitates.

Anne hands the envelope to Rachel. “Mr. Hollis said, if necessary, you could read the note since only Mr. Stark will understand its meaning.”

Rachel opens the envelope and reads the brief note.

"Mr. Hollis is right. I'll deliver it.”

"Are there any questions?"

"What does Mr. Stark look like? More than a thousand people were at the convention, and the building was huge.”

Anne hands a brown envelope to Rachel.

Rachel opens the envelope, takes out a picture, and stares at it in silence for several seconds.

"It will be a long time before I forget that face . . . The moment we looked at each other across the floor I turned my eyes loose and, for the first time in my life, told them: “I don't care who he is. Just bring him home!"

After a brief pause, Anne asks, “Are there any other questions?'

Rachel looks up. “Can I keep this picture?"

Anne's limo stops at the entrance of the German Consulate. She tells Rachel the Consulate is hosting a German film festival which Mr. Stark is attending, but that he is flying to Switzerland that night, so Rachel must give him the note and get an answer within two hours.

Inside the Consulate Rachel sees a floor plan showing the rooms where different events are being held. She notices a small empty side room with two leather chairs and sofa and a wall rack holding magazines and newspapers. She closes the door to the room and begins spinning her web.

Rachel walks slowly through the various rooms of the Consulate.

A lot of noise and people. Good. I have to see him first and the crowd gives me the advantage. I'll catch his eye and disappear. She feels a tap on her arm.

"What are you doing here?” Walter Wembly asks.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel replies.

"Waiting on Allyson.”

"Who's Allyson?"

"My new girlfriend. She's a model and originally from Germany. She hopes to make a connection tonight that will get her in the movies.”

"Is Allyson a German name?"

"I don't ask questions. She's beautiful and speaks English—that's what counts. And she was impressed by our commercial. I keep it on my phone to show people. In three months, that four hours of fun we had is going to turn into a cash cow.”

"Just remember,” Rachel says. “Don't give that video to anybody— and I mean nobody—before it's broadcast on TV. If you do, I'll wring your neck. Do you understand?"

"Hey. Give me a break. I'm not stupid.”

"I hope not.”

"Listen,” Walter says. “I want to talk to you about getting together to make another commercial.”

"I can't talk now. I'm on a mission.”

"What kind of mission?"

"A secret mission. See you in a bit.”

Rachel walks slowly from room to room looking for Paul Stark.

There he is. Listening to an invitation from a sexual siren who is wearing more money on her beautiful body than I'll make in a year. Not good. He's not smiling. Good. Move in closer so he can see me. Got him! He’s in my power.

Rachel continues through the crowd until she is out of the room. She walks swiftly back to the side room, she opens the door, turns on the light, finds a magazine with some pictures, and sits down on the end of the sofa.

A short time later, she senses Paul entering the room, but she doesn't look up.

After several seconds, Paul says, “Pardon me.”

Rachel looks up, but doesn't say anything.

Paul smiles. “I recently hired two private investigation firms to find you. The stars and planets must be aligned tonight.”

Appearing puzzled, Rachel asks, “Have we met before?"

Visibly taken aback, Paul is at a loss for words for several moments.

"What I meant was that I saw you at the International Helicopter Convention on Tuesday. When I looked for you near the end of the show to introduce myself, you weren't there, so I had hoped for a second chance. And here it is.”

"I left before the end. I was supposed to leave midway, but I stayed over a little.”

He chuckles. “I'm surprised you didn't leave before midway.”

"What do you mean?"

"I have a video from the convention I believe you will find amusing. Would you like to see it?"

"Sure.”

He gestures to the couch. “May I?"

"Certainly.”

Taking his cell out of his coat pocket, Paul sits down beside Rachel. “I was taking pictures of . . . a helicopter when I saw this.”

Rachel laughs several times as she watches the video.

Paul replays the video. “The panic in your eyes as that guy suddenly tries to put his arm around your shoulder and misses tells the story. I must say you were very nonchalant as you took his hand off your breast. As you can see, whatever you said to him when he apologized left him smiling as you walked away. Shaking her head and chuckling, Rachel says, “Things like that happen to me so often when I'm solo at clubs or working public events that by now I know the signs of an impending advance and walk away—fast, but that one blind-sided me.”

"Paul Stark,” Paul says extending his hand.

Rachel takes his hand. “I know.”

Releasing his hand, she takes the note from her purse and hands it to him.

"This message is for you.”

Surprised and confused, Paul takes the note and looks at her.

"Go ahead and read it. It's good news.”

He opens the envelope and reads the note.

After a brief pause, he looks up and slowly nods his head. “It's time.”

Paul gazes at Rachel's face several seconds before looking back at the note. “Let's go upstairs to an office. I'll write a reply for you to take back.”

Rachel and Paul exit the elevator on the third floor and walk down the hall to a door with an oval mirror. Paul looks into the mirror and the door opens. As he sits down at the desk in the office, he gestures for Rachel to sit in the chair in front of the desk.

Putting the note on the desk, Paul writes a brief message on the back of it. He hands the note and envelope to Rachel.

"Take a read,” he says.

She reads the note. “Looks OK to me.” She laughs. “They certainly won't shoot this messenger.”

Paul laughs.

After putting the note in the envelope, Rachel puts the envelope in her bag.

They look at each other in silence until Paul suddenly looks down at his watch. After several seconds, he looks up.

"How much does a messenger make these days?"

"$30,000.”

He looks down at his watch again and mumbles, “Can't delay the flight.”

He looks up. “$90,000. It's in that safe.” He glances towards the safe against the wall. “$100 bills.”

Thinking he doesn't believe her and is making a joke, she chuckles. “Three times the normal messenger rate. It must be some message. Who is it for?"

"For one hour . . .

Paul realizes in horror what words have just come out of his mouth and turns his face away from Rachel.

Rachel is not smiling. “$90,000 . . . For my body . . . For one hour. Well just for your information,” she says,”$90,000 is way too much and one hour is way too short.”

She pauses.

"Look at me. I want to tell you something.”

Paul looks at her.

"I was only being coy earlier this evening when I pretended not to recognize you. You have been in my thoughts constantly from the moment we first exchanged glances at the convention. For the first time, a single glance ignited emotions so overwhelming that they consumed me within seconds . . . but now those emotions are gone . . . never to return.”

She stands. “Ever.”

Paul watches her walk from the room and close the door.

Staring at the door, his heart is devastated by an unrelenting, unforgiving grief. A sad, unhappy, beautiful face trying to be brave is the only thing he can see. He knows that face and those eyes with no emotional defense against his impulsive betrayal will be with him forever. He has ruined it for both of them. No words will right the wrong he has done. No words will bring her back . . . but words are all he has.

He stands up. He must tell her that for the first time in his life he too was overwhelmed by the same consuming emotions.

He walks swiftly to the door and opens it. He must tell her his eyes had not lied.

Standing near the stairs, Walter and his new girlfriend, Allyson, are surprised to see Rachel coming down the stairs. They walk over to greet her.

"Hi Rachel,” Walter says, “This is Allyson. She was impressed by our commercial.”

Allyson nods. “It was cute.”

"Thanks,” Rachel says looking at Allyson. “Please forgive me for not staying to talk to you and Walter, but something unexpected has come up. I must leave immediately.”

Watching Rachel walk quickly towards the entrance of the consulate, Allyson says, “She has been crying.”

One evening, less than a week later, Rachel is grocery shopping when she receives a call. The caller ID shows “Regal Stdos".

She chuckles. Maybe I'm about to be discovered.

"Hello"

"Is this Rachel Lee?"

"Yes.”

"Rachel, my name is Roger Thorenson. I'm a film director with Regal Studios. Do you have a minute to talk?"

"Sure.”

"I'm casting for an actress who can project a particular set of emotions with her eyes. A video I received from your agent indicates you are the person I'm looking for. Even though the video was short with no audio, and although your face shows for only a few seconds, the impact of your eyes is immediate. So much so, that if you are interested, I would like you to take a screen test as soon as possible.”

Rachel laughs. “Of course, I'm interested, but I don't have an agent, and I've never submitted a video to anybody in the movie industry. Unfortunately for me, I'm the wrong Rachel Lee.”

There is silence for a few moments.

"Rachel, the video shows a young man slowly raising a bouquet of red roses with an outstretched arm. As he is raising the bouquet, the figure of a woman appears, beginning with her shoes until the bouquet is raised and the woman's face appears. The scene ends with a close up of the woman's eyes. Those are the eyes I'm looking for.

He pauses.

"Those eyes penetrated my psyche. We were alone and you said to me, “You have hit the jackpot. I am all that you could possibly imagine and more . . . and . . . I'll do anything you want.”

He pauses.

"Does the video sound familiar?"

Silence.

"Rachel are you still there?"

"I'm still here. That's me in the video, but you heard those words because you wanted to hear those words. My eyes don't say those words. I practice monogamy. Even when I don't have a boyfriend, I practice monogamy. If you understand that, we can continue. If not, we stop.”

"I didn't mean to suggest anything of that nature,” Roger says, “I'm married with three daughters. What I meant was your eyes have the strong screen power I need for my movie. You say you don't have an agent?"

"That's correct.”

"Then the whole situation is strange. This morning I received an e-mail from a top-tier Italian agent, Rolli Cellini. The subject of the e-mail was “These are the eyes you seek.” The message was your name and number, and the only attachment was the video. No background on you or resume. I'm casting for a second lead. Do you have acting experience?"

After Rachel signs a form making Rolli Cellini her agent, Roger Thorenson directs the movie with Rachel in it. When filming ends, Rachel returns home.

While waiting for the movie’s release, she agrees to write and make commercials with Walter and Allyson. Not sure if the movie will bring work in Hollywood, Rachel continues to seek a career on the stage. With assistance from a German casting director, Allyson receives a full scholarship which allows her to attend drama school. Walter produces and markets the commercials.

However, just as her movie is ready for release, Regal files for bankruptcy to avoid an unfriendly takeover, and the movie is shelved indefinitely. A month after the movie is shelved, Rachel receives a call from Roger.

"Hi Rachel. This is Roger. A highly unusual situation has come up. All I can say is you are one lucky women. First Rolli Cellini discovers you, and now Sara and Ira Bloch, two of the best screenwriters around, send me a script they want me to produce and direct for this year's film festival on the condition you play the lead. They have a funding for the entire project including advertising from a private foundation which makes us independent of Regal.”

"What's the screenplay about?"

"It's a film noir written especially for you . . . and your eyes.”

"What's the film's story?"

"It's about a woman who seduces a successful businessman and then destroys him and his career.”

"What kind of story is that?"

"It's a story about an evil woman in the film noir tradition that was big in the 1940's. The Blochs' think, given today's corrupt corporate environment, it's time to resurrect that tradition. I'm going to send you the script. I am excited about it. It's right on target, but needs an actress able to push a man to his emotional limits. Without you, the movie won't be made.”

The finished film noir exceeds all expectations. Both Roger and the Blochs feel it is a strong contender to win the film festival. Rachel is concerned it might win and typecast her to play evil women for the rest of her career. She obtains the name of the foundation which funded the Blochs' film and calls the main number. She asks how to apply for a movie grant and is connected to the foundation's cinema coordinator who tells her she has to submit an online application.

With the film festival just months away, Rachel is desperate. She goes to the foundation, gives her name, and asks to speak to somebody in the cinema department. She is surprised when the cinema department's director, Wilson Smith, comes into the waiting room, sits down in the chair beside her, says he is familiar with the Blochs' grant, hands her his card and an application, and suggests she send the completed application and screenplay directly to him.

After writing nonstop for three days, Rachel has a play script which she thinks will do the job of a screenplay. She delivers it in person to Mr. Smith who says the approval and funding is up to the foundation's Board of Trustees.

Two days later, she is astonished when FedEx delivers a letter signed by Mr. Smith saying the Board has awarded her a fully funded grant with the only stipulation being that the foundation be given a copy of the film before its final release. Energized and self-confident as a result of the foundation's award, she calls Walter and tells him to come over to her apartment because she has big news for both of them.

Seated at the kitchen table, Rachel hands Walter the foundation's envelope. He opens the envelope and reads the letter.

"Congratulations,” he says handing the letter back, “but what has it got to do with me?"

"Do you remember I told you when I'm acting, the character I'm playing transfers her inner feelings and emotions to me so I can bring her to life.”

"Vaguely. Reverse mind control or something like that.”

"Well, Eve, the nasty woman I played in that last film, is still with me. I can't get her off my mind. She keeps intruding. So I'm going to exorcize her, by playing a decent, ethical, honorable, virtuous woman.”

Walter looks down at the tabletop and is silent.

"We've been making commercials for more than a year. It's time to take it to the next level and make a movie. You can produce it, which is what you are doing now with our commercials. I'll cast and direct which is what I'm doing now. Over the years, as a stage writer and actress, I've met a lot of talented amateurs with a lot of resources who will consider being part of a festival film project as an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Walter looks at the ceiling.

"Walter, this movie will be entered in the category which is limited to a director's first or second feature film. It will be a level playing field.”

Walter looks at the floor. “We know how to make a TV commercial. We don't know how to make a movie.”

"Look at me Walter. There is something you should know.”

Walter continues to look at the floor.

"In a week, Allyson will finish drama school. You and I have attended her plays, and I've rehearsed with her, so we know she is ready. The first door she will knock on will be the casting director in Germany who got her the scholarship. There is a reason he calls her on a regular basis to talk about drama school and her commercials. It will be an open door for her.”

Rachel pauses.

"In two months, she will be in Germany making a movie, and you will be sitting in the U.S. watching TV. With her personality and looks, the moment she smiles, temptation will put his strong, warm arm around her. Believe me. I've been there. It's just that way in that environment.”

She pauses.

"My film is an opportunity for her here at home. I'm going to offer her the part of my rival which I feel certain she will accept. If you want to move up with her, Walter, you have only one option.”

After submitting her film to the festival, Rachel feels guilty. She has betrayed Roger and the Blochs after they had supported her in every way possible. She calls Roger and explains the emotional pressures that caused her to make another movie. Roger said making movies is a business. She had given 100 percent to make his film a success and that was all that was expected of her. He would relay her concerns to the Blochs and was sure they would feel as he did. Since this was Rachel's first festival, he suggested they all meet in the festival's lobby two hours before award ceremonies begin so they can sit together.

As planned, Rachel, Walter, Allyson, the Blochs, and Roger meet in the festival lobby. As they are talking, a man joins the group.

After shaking hands with Roger and the Blochs, the man turns to Rachel, extends his hand and says, “Rolli Cellini. At long last we meet.”

Taking his hand, Rachel says, “And at long last I'm going to find out how you got my video and what caused you to send it to Roger.”

Rolli smiles. “In the international film industry, I am well-known for discovering the unknown. I knew Roger was looking for a pair of woman's eyes, so when I saw your video I immediately e-mailed it to him.”

"But how did you get the video? It was a proprietary TV commercial my partner and I were holding pending the broadcast date.”

Rolli smiles. “I received it on a flash drive in the mail with an unsigned note about Roger's search for a pair of eyes.”

"From who? I didn't send it to you.”

"The return label said “Dieter Kohl.”

"Hey,” Walter says. “That's the name of the guy who got the scholarship for Allyson. Right Allyson?"

Allyson nods. “He's the casting director for a German movie company.”

"Valkyrie Studios,” Rolli says, “and Dieter is one of the casting directors.

"That guy that connected us with Dieter must have given it to him,” Walter says. “What was the guy's name Allyson?"

"Paul is all that I remember. I don't think he gave his last name. After we all came to the conclusion, correctly of course, that I needed to go to drama school before I could become an actress, Paul said he had a friend who was a casting director for a German studio. He called Dieter on the spot, introduced me, asked him to recommend a drama school, and put me on the phone. All I can say is, I hope I meet Paul again someday so I can thank him for changing my life.”

Giving Walter a sharp look, Rachel asks, “When did all this take place?"

"A long time ago,” Walter says.

"I remember” Allyson says. “It was at the German consulate. The night of the German film festival. The night Rachel and I first met"

Looking directly at Walter, Rachel says, “Paul Stark. How much did he pay you?"

"Nothing. To do something while Allyson was talking on the phone, I showed him the commercial. He got hung up on the ending and replayed it a bunch of times. Finally he asked me if he could have it. He promised to delete everything but the ending—but I didn't give him your name.”

"I'm sure you told him everything there was to know about me—right down to my bra size,” Rachel says harshly. “I'm asking you for the last time: How much did he pay you?"

"Well, since it is so important to you, I gave it to him because he said, 'Please.' After what he had just done for Allyson, I knew I could trust him.”

"Paul Stark's promise can be relied upon absolutely,” interjects Rolli. “We all should be thankful that this young man chanced to meet Paul and to give him the video. Somehow, Paul discerned the potential of Rachel's extraordinary screen presence from the screen of a cell phone and gave the video to me to launch into the sky, bringing fortune to each of us.

Rolli pauses.

"However, I am puzzled. Why didn't Paul have Dieter offer you a screen test since his company owns Valkyrie?" He smiles. “But I'm not complaining. I’ve discovered another unknown.”

As the group walks into the theatre, Rachel asks Sara Bloch, “Do you know why Wilson Smith's grant stipulated me to play the lead in Eve? He never mentioned or alluded to it during our conversation.”

"It's also a mystery to me, but you can be sure Wilson had nothing to do with it. It was all Maria's work.”

"Maria?"

"The Performing Arts Foundation is her foundation and her money. She personally selects the foundation's projects and signs the checks. Wilson screens the cinema grant proposals and filters out the frivolous. Wilson - Maria that is - approached us with the grant already in place and funded. The timing was perfect since we were looking for work, and a film festival was just the venue for the film noir Ira and I had been talking about for quite a while.”

"Who is Maria?

"Maria and her husband, David, are extremely wealthy and generous patrons to all the performing arts, although it's difficult to figure out what motivates their selections because they operate behind closed doors.”

"What's Maria's last name?"

"Hollis.”

The festival's Master of Ceremonies, Jean-Claude Brialy, begins the award ceremonies by announcing the judges have requested a change in the usual sequence of awards due to an “unusual situation.” In response to the audience's immediate murmurs, Jean-Claude shrugs his shoulders and begins the ceremonies.

The sequence of awards proceeds as normal until Jean-Claude opens the envelope with the name of the Best Actress. Instead of a card with a name on it, the envelope contains a sheet of paper and a second envelope. Perplexed, Jean-Claude reads the sheet, looks up, and smiles.

"The judges” Jean-Claude says, “have combined the awards of Best Screenplay, Best Director, Best Actress, and Best Film into the two elements which are eternally in conflict: evil and virtue. During this festival, as everyone in the audience knows, the American Actress Rachel Lee materialized into the world for the first time. First as evil in the film “Eve” then as virtue in “The Vision.” These two polarizing films demonstrate the compelling attraction each of these elements has when they appear in human form on the screen.”

Putting aside the sheet of paper, Jean-Claude begins to open the second envelope. He pauses. Looking out at the audience, he asks, “Which will triumph: the eyes of evil or the eyes of virtue?"

But Rachel is not listening. Her frowning face is staring at the head in front of her, but not seeing it.

So it was you all along. Always seeking to soothe my troubled heart. Giving me the wings to fly. Even though I owe you everything, you never asked for anything in return. After telling you that you were the one I had been waiting for, I threw up barrier after barrier against you until all you had left was your testosterone to tell me that you loved me. I threw up barriers because I didn't know what love was. But now I understand. You kept the flame burning, and as soon as I can touch you my darling, I will light the fire.

Rachel is startled to feel a nudge from Roger. “Rachel. Your film won. Smile. Stand up. Applaud.”

Standing and turning slightly to smooth the back of her dress, Rachel glances at the seat behind her. Relief surges through her body clearing the emotional channels for excitement and happiness to come storming in at the highest level as she turns to face the only thing that matters to her.

For Paul Stark, his clapping hands stop in midair as he instantly understands the invitation in her eyes. For him, time and place disappear as he joins her.

The second messenger had arrived.

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