18 - Cleopatra: Queen of De Nile

Lilah felt as though she had no more drifted off to sleep when a firehouse alarm went jangling loudly in her left ear.  The abrupt shrill startled her from a deep sleep and had her head flying off the pillow with a squeak of distress. She blinked wide, pained eyes, both disoriented and panicked.

What is that noise?  My alarm doesn’t sound like that.

The phone jangled again and, whipping her head painfully to the left, she finally registered that it was coming from the bedside table.   

“Ohhhh God!” she groaned, her body protesting at the sudden movement.  There was an aching throb that threatened to blow out her left temple and her right kidney cowered when she stretched an arm out for the receiver.

She wasn’t able to get close enough to the circa-1978 desk model phone, and was forced to roll onto her left hip, which sent a waterfall of unintelligible grunts and groans spewing forth.  They were incorporated into no less than half a dozen new-and-improved swear words.

Mother-monkey-fucking-rat-assed-son-of-a-Lord-have-mercy…

“Hello?” she finally gritted into the telephone.

“Good morning, Ms. Bennett,”a cheerful, Turkish voice greeted her.  “Please accept my apologies for disturbing, but we have an envelope just delivered for you here at the front desk.  When you are ready to receive it, please stop by and inquire for Husni.”

The pass for today’s show.  Tony.

It was a strange cloak of gloom and anxiety that settled over Lilah, placing a dull gray filter over the brilliant daylight lighting her room. 

“Would it be possible to have someone slide it under my door?”  She wasn’t ready to venture out of the safety of her room, but was anxious to see what Tony had sent.  It might help with her decision of whether or not she could go.

Upon receiving Husni’s jovial agreement, she replaced the receiver in its cradle and carefully eased back onto the mattress, anguish making her face feel longer than usual.  She was standing in front of the brick wall at the end of Avoidance Street much sooner than she was ready for.  It was time to choose a direction.

After the group of men left her lying in the courtyard last night, and she had a chance to come back from her slightly delirious thoughts, Lilah used the collar of her dark t-shirt to mop away the rivulets of blood at her neck.  Pulling the soft cotton into double-duty as a bandage, she applied direct pressure to the wounds and discovered that the cuts weren’t all that deep.  It was only a short time before the blood ebbed to nothing more than a sticky trickle.

Satisfied that she wouldn’t bleed to death in the next ten minutes, Lilah continued to ride the wave of pain-free adrenaline with gratitude.  It allowed her to effortlessly rise to her feet, dust off her jeans, find her silky orange parcel and hurry out of the courtyard. 

From there, it was though some unseen GPS guided her steps.   She had no trouble finding the street she’d been searching for in the first place, and, in less than fifteen minutes time, Lilah was safely back in her hotel room.  Along the way, she received a couple of odd glances, but no one asked any questions of the woman with the blood-stained shirt and neck. 

Maybe it wasn’t an unusual sight in this part of the world.

Lilah numbly stripped her clothes away as soon as locks on the room were secure.  She walked into the hot shower and soaped both her hair and body without thinking anything of importance. There was a passing thought about the difference between water-pressure in Istanbul and Dublin, but that was about it.

It was over.  She was alive and safe, and she didn’t have to think about it anymore.  And she wouldn’t.

Denial. That was Lilah’s coping mechanism, and she had crafted it into a fine art form.

It was why she never once considered calling or e-mailing any of her friends about the incident.  It was what had allowed her to towel-dry her hair and ignore the heart-stopping sounds of other guests in the hallway.  It was what had her nonchalantly implanting marshmallowy ear buds and firing up her feel-good playlist of Bon Jovi songs.   

Bounce, Have a Nice Day, Everyday, Misunderstood and Keep the Faith were the tunes that filled her ears for the rest of the night, rocking her back into her blessedly isolated safe haven.  The place where her only neck worries were that of keeping good elasticity throughout her forties.   The place where nothing existed outside of iTunes and the freshly stockpiled Kindle app on her phone. 

Yes, there was the niggling voice at the back of her mind reminding, “You can’t stay hidden away here forever.  You still have to go back out into the streets of Istanbul by yourself, if for no other reason than to get out of here.”

She knew that.  She did.  But dwelling on it wouldn’t have gotten her through the night. 

Bella Andre and her multi-book series about the fictional Sullivan family…  That got her through the night.  It was well after four a.m. before Lilah’s eyes drifted shut, allowing her to dream about nothing but carefully choreographed happily-ever-afters.

This morning though – she checked the clock and found that it was nine a.m. – Lilah didn’t have the luxury of hiding her head in the sand.  Well…  she did, but there was at least one bit of reality to deal with first.

Her stomach growled with an angry demand to be added to that reality to-do list, but she ignored it.  She hadn’t eaten since having breakfast in Dublin yesterday, but food wasn’t important enough to shed her cocoon of denial. 

Tony, however, was. 

Lilah sighed and threw back the covers, intent upon having a shower.  Technically, she probably didn’t need one, but it was all part of the wake-up process.  Mornings were her favorite time of day, but they were made that much nicer by a hot shower.

When the spray rained down over tender spot on the left side of her head, Lilah was grateful for the less-than-impressive water pressure.  She glided tentative fingers along her scalp, and discovered a fair-sized goose egg over and behind her ear.  It was probably responsible for the headache trying to bloom to life. 

Deciding she’d best take a quick inventory of the rest of her aches and pains, she gently probed along her jawline and neck. 

Each leg of the upside-down ‘L’ that branched from beneath her left earlobe was about four inches long.  The cuts hadn’t been all that deep, but they were wide enough to feel the thin scabs that kept them from bleeding. 

Lilah wrinkled her nose with annoyance.

Rat bastards.  If this shit keeps up, I’m going to be wearing turtlenecks year round.

Completely disregarding the hollowness the thought created, Lilah denied the prickling in her eyes and decided to give the cuts another thorough cleansing.  It would prevent infection and, hopefully, minimize the scarring.

She found another tender spot under the left side of her rib cage, but couldn’t twist far enough to see if there was any visible damage.  She did, however, find a lovely grapefruit-sized bruise on her left hip.  The approximate color of an eggplant, it looked sick against her porcelain-pale skin.

Enough.  You  bruise like a banana and have a new bruise every other day.  At least you know where this one came from.

Grabbing the shampoo she lathered her hair and hummed a couple of verses to “It’s My Life” and tried to decide what to do about the show tonight.

Right now the thought of going to the hotel restaurant seems like too much trouble.  Do you really think you’re going to be able to force yourself into social butterfly mode while locking away everything that vaguely resembles an emotion?  If you do go, he’ll think you’re nothing more than a life-sized Jell-O mold.  It’s not like you have much personality to start with.

It would be a good distraction, though.  She didn’t have that many books left to read, and the television stations held no interest for her.  Keeping her mind occupied all day and night was going to be a stretch. 

Besides, she may never get another opportunity to go backstage like this.  With Tony.  Honestly, the longer it went, the sillier she felt for having this compulsive need to see him work.  What was she expecting?  The angels to sing and the heavens to open when she found what she was looking for?

Wouldn’t matter if they did.  You have to get there first.  By yourself.  Through a bazillion scary, smarmy Turkish men who may decide you’re rude for no apparent reason.  Or you could take a taxi.  That’s twenty-five minutes with one man who may take offense to you.  That could drive you wherever he wanted and no one would be the wiser.

She frowned as the last of the soap suds swirled away.  That… was a problem.  One she wasn’t sure of how to resolve. 

Was she better off staying trapped in the hotel, slowly going crazy at the ‘forced’ confinement?  Better off than if she took a risk on the opportunity of a lifetime? 

Is a life of regret a life worth living?

Snapping the faucets to the off position, Lilah suddenly felt lonely.  There was no need to share her story from the previous evening, but she wished for someone to point out the line between caution and fear.   Maybe to even convince her she was brave enough to do what she wanted to do?

Or just to remind you why you want to do it.

Wrapping one towel around her head and another around her body, Lilah walked out of the bathroom tucking a terrycloth corner between her breasts.  The timing sucked to talk to Joanna or expect Morgan to be up for an email, but Angel should be around.

A manila envelope caught Lilah’s eye, deterring her with its yellow tint contrasting starkly against the dark area rug in front of the door.  Her name was scrawled across the front in a heavy black ink, and she wondered if it was Tony’s handwriting.

Bending to retrieve it, she noted that it was a little bulkier than an ordinary envelope.  The reason for that was revealed when she ripped open the end and slid the contents onto the bed.  Inside was a Bon Jovi Greatest Hits Access All Areas laminated pass, but the source of the bulge was the lanyard clipped to it.  The only other item on the bed was a folded sheet of paper.

Bluegrass -

I’ll be at the stadium by 10 with the crew.  Your name is on the guest list at the back gate, so come whenever you want. If you want to talk to me, be there before 5.  Make sure you dress cool.  It will be hot under the stage.  If you run into problems, call.

-      TBJ

She slowly turned the pass over, looking at it front and back, wondering how many of them were floating around in Jovi World.  There were probably more than she realized, but they were still scarce as hen’s teeth, and she held one in her hands.  The laminate was an undeniably cool treasure, but, for her, it wasn’t so much about the pass itself as what it represented. 

It was tangible proof.  This was her destiny.  This was her fate. 

She just had to find enough backbone to step up and claim it.

Don’t forget this isn’t all about you. 

No.  It wasn’t. 

She reached for her phone and fired up the email app.  Lilah was almost certain of her decision, but she could still use a healthy shot of moral support – and a little human contact.

July 8, 2011

TO: aussie_angel

FROM: misslilahjane

Angel,

I'm only hours before having my persistence pay off.  My Access All Areas pass is in my hand, and my name is on a guest list at the gate.  Tony is inviting me backstage.  For real.  He's going to be waiting at the stadium so I can spend the day with him.  What's the problem, you might ask? 

I'm terrified.

Any advice for someone who has clearly lost their frickin' mind? 

xoxo

Tapping the Send button, she lightly dropped her phone to the bed and contemplated the serious issue of what to wear.  He had told her to dress cool, and she had packed for warmer weather but her tank tops weren’t options.  If she was to have any hope of avoiding questions, she couldn’t leave her neck exposed that way.

Foraging in the bottom of her suitcase, she found the shirt she almost didn’t pack – a sleeveless black turtleneck.  It must have been a premonition that had her stick it in there at the last minute.  Whatever the reason, it would serve her purpose.  Topped with a lightweight blouse and paired with black capris, she only hoped the outfit wouldn’t give her a heatstroke. 

Tossing back a couple of ibuprofen tablets to battle the persistent headache and other odd pains, Lilah checked her phone, wondering about transportation options to the stadium.   She was pleased to find Angel had already sent a response to her neurotic plea for support.

July 8, 2011

TO: misslilahjane

FROM: aussie_angel

Oh, Li-Lee.  Have you forgotten the reason you have traveled all over Europe?  Yes, I know you love the band, but this is your moment.  THIS is what you've come to do.  You're not terrified.  You're just nervous.  It's healthy. 

Wait!  I thought this was going to be a little backstage glimpse before the show.  But, you're spending a whole day with him??!  Eeeeee!!!  I'm convinced that as soon as you set eyes on Tony, those butterflies will calm right down.  You are about to have one of the best days of your life, my friend. You can do this!  Keep calm, enjoy your well deserved day and take notes for me.  Ok, forget the notes, but try to remember the details.  I'll be needing a full report.  :)

And if you can sneak a photo of TBJ's big brother, I'd greatly appreciate it.  *smiles sweetly*

!!!!!!!!!!

<3

That sweet smile of Angel’s got her every time. Lilah put a hand to her grumbling stomach and laughed, reluctantly vowing that she would try and get a decent picture of Jon.  If he would allow it, that is.