Lucy Read online

  The woman clasped her hands in front of her, and a pained expression crossed her face. “That is so touching, Lucy. And I think you’re exactly right.”

  The show lasted only a few more minutes. The woman seemed to be rushing to a place where she would never arrive, hurtling across space in her little biopsy of a living room. Lucy said goodbye and was led back to the greenroom, where Amanda and Jenny waited. Amanda threw her arms around Lucy. “You majorly rock, Luce. You were awesome.”

  They were led to the front door of the building and out to the street where the limousine waited. As they emerged, a crowd of people pushed in, shoving papers at Lucy, trying to ask questions. She stopped to sign autographs, but the limousine driver urged her into the car, and then they were off to the next show.

  Sitting in the car between Amanda and Jenny, Lucy said, “I’m having a hard time getting my mind around this.”

  “You’re a star. Get over it.”

  Jenny didn’t look as elated. “I’m hoping it protects you.”

  As they quickly discovered, fame was a chronic condition for which they knew of no immediate cure. One moment, Lucy was an ordinary teenager, caught up in the trivialities of life in high school. The next, she was swept up in a whirlwind of publicity, television shows, and interviews.

  Lucy lost track of time, but she did remember the sea. She had never seen it before. They checked into a hotel called Shutters, which was right on the beach in Santa Monica. The room that Amanda and Lucy shared had sliding glass doors that opened onto a patio overlooking the water, and that first day, Lucy and Amanda hastily dressed in their bikinis, Lucy in yellow, Amanda in blue, and went screaming into the surf, where they played like two slick dolphins for most of the afternoon. Then, in the slanting red light, they lay in bed. Lucy was reading to Amanda—“and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the fig trees in the Alameda gardens yes”—when Jenny came in with the first offer in her hand.

  Amanda, of course, made fun of it. “It’s a cool idea, I have to admit,” she said. “How about a self-help book called Getting in Touch with Your Inner Ape? Then you can follow up with a video called The Jungle Girl Workout.”

  But Lucy was remembering that even before she could read, she had loved books. She had carried them around and hoarded them. Then she remembered when her father was teaching her to write, holding the pencil and looking at the page and thinking about what a monumental thing it was to write. To write a book seemed so essentially human. To place a mark on a surface that could then move someone to laughter or tears. Only a human could do that. If she could write a book, a real book, then no one could ever say that she wasn’t human enough.

  Lucy crisscrossed the country with Amanda and Jenny and wound up back in New York for photo shoots with Teen Vogue and Rolling Stone. Then they were at the airport again, heading home at last. As they waited in line to pass through a security checkpoint, people gathered around and asked for autographs.

  When they reached the magnetometer, the functionary of the Transportation Security Administration smiled and gave Lucy a thumbs-up. He was about to wave them through when an officer whose nametag said Stockton stepped in.

  “I’ll handle this, Gomez,” he told the man, who stepped back from the magnetometer. Lucy could see that Stockton was obviously the higher-ranking male in the hierarchy.

  Stockton stepped through the magnetometer toward Jenny and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we can’t let her through.” And he pointed at Lucy. The man he called Gomez was watching with a pained expression.

  Lucy and Amanda looked at each other, then behind them to see if perhaps Stockton were pointing at someone else.

  Jenny had been smiling and chatting with a fan before Stockton spoke. Now she stopped, a puzzled expression on her face. “What do you mean? Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we can’t let her through. All animals have to be caged and put in the luggage compartment.”

  Jenny laughed, thinking that it was a joke. But there was no humor in the man’s face. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, ma’am, we don’t joke here. I can’t let her through. You’ll have to see your airline representative and make proper arrangements for transporting animals.”

  “Hey, boss, come on.”

  “At ease, Gomez. I’ll handle this.”

  Gomez turned away. “I’m going on break.”

  Lucy and Amanda moved up beside Jenny as a crowd of people gathered around to see what would happen.

  A woman in her forties in a business suit stepped forward, her face red, and addressed Stockton. “You moron,” she said. “This girl is more human than you are. Let her through this minute.”

  Stockton lifted his hand and motioned to a police officer. “Remove this woman, please.” Then he turned to Lucy and whispered, “You’re an abomination before Christ. You should be put to sleep.” He looked so unhappy. Lucy felt sorry for him.

  The police officer stepped forward and positioned himself between the angry woman and Stockton.

  “I’m a lawyer for the city. You touch me and you’ll be cleaning toilets for the rest of your career.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, you’ll have to leave now. You can’t make a disturbance here.”

  “I’m getting on an airplane. I’m flying first class.”

  “No, I’m afraid you’re not. Not now,” the policeman said. “You cooperate, you might catch a later flight.”

  Lucy and Jenny and Amanda watched with wide eyes, scarcely able to believe what was happening. Now the crowd rose up and began shouting and booing Stockton. Several other guards rushed into the fray, and some of them began to radio for help. Jenny lifted her phone and took Stockton’s picture, then turned to the girls and said, “Let’s go.”

  As they retreated, the crush of people parted. They slipped away from the checkpoint and moved toward the outer doors of the terminal. Police and TSA guards were closing in on the chaotic scene from all directions.

  “What are we going to do?” Lucy asked.

  “I don’t know. But we’re not going to get arrested.”

  Jenny led them outside into the clouds of exhaust by the taxi stand.

  “You okay?” Amanda asked.

  “I guess. He called me an animal. And I guess I am.”

  “You’re a person. And he was wrong.”

  “He was a religious nut,” Jenny said. “But we don’t want to fight that battle here.”

  “But how will we get home? I want a shower. And some grapes.”

  The dispatcher at the taxi stand hailed a cab, and Jenny told the driver to go to the other side of the airport where the private planes were. “We’re going to do a little high-class hitchhiking. I did this once in Kinshasa.” Sitting between the girls, she took their hands in hers. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

  Lucy could see the cab driver eyeing her in his oversized rearview mirror. “Hey,” he said, “you’re that, uh, monkey girl, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. Ape, actually.”

  “Same difference, right?”

  “Not really. Apes don’t have tails.”

  “Yeah?”

  “That’s right. Do you have a tail?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  “And neither do I. Also monkeys go along the tops of branches on all fours. Apes swing under the branches.”

  “Hey, I never knew that,” the cabbie said. “Say, you sound pretty smart for being half ape.”

  “Yeah, I have all sorts of talents.” Lucy began to cheer up, seeing that Jenny and Amanda were watching with growing pleasure as she toyed with the cabbie.

  “Yeah, like what?”

  “Well, I’ll make you a bet. Is that your lunch there on the seat beside you?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Well, if I can tell you what’s in the bag, we get our cab ride for free. How’s that?”

  “Deal. But you gotta gimme uh autograph.”

  “Deal.” Lucy already knew
what was in the bag, but she sniffed the air for effect. “Hmm,” she said. “Let me see … Today you’re having a ham and Swiss cheese sandwich on pumpernickel with mayo, yellow mustard, and onion. There’s also a container of coleslaw in there. You have an apple. And something with chocolate—wait. I’ve got it: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. I can’t tell what the drink is because it’s in an aluminum can.”

  The driver pounded the steering wheel and guffawed loudly. “Holy smokes, you’re right!”

  “See? It pays to get in touch with your inner ape.”

  As he pulled up to the general aviation facility on the other side of the airport, he turned around with his trip log in his hand. “Wow. So, how about that autograph? My wife’s gonna get the biggest kick out of this. She saw you on the Oprah.”

  As they entered the general aviation lounge at LaGuardia, the pilots and passengers stared and then followed their progress across the room.

  “I think you’re being recognized,” Jenny said. “That’s good. Amanda, do you want to do the honors? You’re nice and articulate.”

  “Do what? What are we doing?”

  “Asking for a ride to Chicago. Someone who’s going west must have a few empty seats.”

  Amanda glanced around the crowded room, biting her cuticles. Then she took Lucy’s arm, cleared her throat, and spoke in a stage voice. Drama club paid off. “Ladies and gentlemen, do you recognize this girl?” Now all eyes were on them. “This is Lucy Lowe. You may have seen her on TV.”

  A few people said hi or waved. They all looked puzzled.

  When Amanda explained what had happened, there were disapproving murmurs in the crowd.

  “So we’re here to find a kind soul who’d be willing to take us to Chicago. You’ll not only get the rare opportunity to meet and talk to Lucy in person, but you’ll have a heck of a story to tell.”

  Silence fell. No one moved. Lucy could feel their tension. They were all confused and fearful. The lounge was a bright, nondescript room with a terrazzo floor and an acoustic tile ceiling that held recessed fluorescent lights. A service counter stood at one end, attended by two women in uniforms. An elderly lady dressed in a purple suit stood with some effort and crossed to them with a magazine in her hand. “Excuse me,” she said to Lucy, “but I was wondering if you would mind autographing this for me.” She had bright green eyes and a beautiful smile. “For my granddaughter.” A star sapphire winked at her neck.

  “Not at all,” Lucy said, taking the magazine from her. It was Time. Lucy’s face was on the cover with the headline “What Does It Mean to Be Human?”

  “What’s your granddaughter’s name?”

  “Holly.”

  Lucy signed the magazine and handed it back. The woman smiled and squeezed Lucy’s hand. Lucy looked down. The old woman had beautiful hands. They reminded Lucy of Leda’s, the skin as delicate as paper.

  “Can you give us a lift?” Amanda asked her.

  “I would, dear, but I’m afraid I’m merely a guest on the airplane, and in any case, we’re going straight to Rome.”

  “Thanks all the same,” Amanda said, and the woman returned to her seat.

  People came and went as the private jets taxied in and out, and gradually the lounge emptied. It seemed that the rush hour was over. Lucy and Amanda sat slumped and sullen in plastic chairs, listening to their music. Jenny returned from the restroom and sat between them, patting their hands. “Hey,” she said brightly. “We can always go home on the train.”

  Lucy perked up, taking her ear buds out. “Oh, could we? I’ve always wanted to ride on a real train.”

  “We could.”

  A businessman with a briefcase entered from the street side accompanied by two pilots. They approached the service counter, and one of the pilots began filling out forms. Amanda rose to intercept them as a small white jet was just pulling up beyond the wall of windows. Lucy turned to look because the engines sounded different from those of the other jets, louder and with a whistling tone above the roar.

  Jenny got up and joined Amanda at the counter. Lucy watched an elderly man and woman descend the stairs of the small jet that had just landed. A younger man, dressed in jeans, came down behind them. They entered the lounge and approached the counter. For no reason that she could explain, Lucy now joined Amanda and Jenny at the counter.

  “I’d gladly take you to Chicago,” the businessman was telling Amanda, “but my company doesn’t allow it.”

  “I don’t think our insurance would cover you,” one of the waiting pilots said.

  The elderly couple now stood at the counter waiting their turn, accompanied by the younger man. “I understand,” Jenny said. She turned to the girls. “Well, maybe we will take the train.”

  The couple had moved up to the counter as the businessman and his pilots stepped away. The man was small and unremarkable in his appearance. He could have been the janitor reporting for duty. He wore the sort of gray cotton slacks and shirt that someone would put on for a Saturday afternoon of puttering in the garage. His gray hair was uncombed, but his gray eyes were clear and sharp. He and the younger man stood at the counter, engaging a young woman in a conversation about fuel.

  The elderly woman was tall and thin with gray hair that hung straight to her jaw and tapered down toward her neck, which was cabled with tendons. She had dramatic lines around her mouth and a prominent mole on her left cheek. Her eyes were remarkably blue, and she looked around her with an air of alert curiosity. Lucy’s attention was on the woman, and sensing it, the woman turned to her and smiled. Lucy smiled back. Jenny and Amanda had caught wind of it, and they now turned to watch.

  The woman stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m Ruth Randall. I recognize you.”

  Lucy shook her hand. “I’m Lucy.”

  “Yes, of course.” She reached out and touched her husband’s back. “Dear. This is the girl who was on the news.”

  “Just a moment, sweets.”

  “That was a terrible thing they did to you at the airport,” said Ruth Randall. “It’s all over the news. It’s sure to embarrass the agency.”

  “This is my mom, Jenny, and my friend Amanda. Mrs. Randall.”

  “Ruth, please.” They shook hands.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Jenny said. “We’re trying to get home to Chicago.”

  “Yes, of course.” The men had completed their business and turned from the counter. “This is my husband, Luke, and our pilot, Roy.”

  Luke beamed at them with a jolly smile. “Don’t let those TSA guys get you down,” he said. “Airport security is BS. Just a jobs program. We live in New Mexico. Chicago’s right on the way. We’ll be happy to take you.”

  “That would be so generous of you,” Jenny said.

  “Sometimes it makes me ashamed to be an American these days. Come on, lemme show you the Saberliner.”

  “What’s a Saberliner?” Amanda asked.

  “It’s that jet there,” Luke said, pointing.

  “I’ll just use the ladies’,” Ruth said, and walked, strong and erect, across the bright room, her white tennis shoes squeaking on the polished floor. A few minutes later, when Ruth had returned, Luke picked up two of the suitcases, the pilot picked up the third, and the group emerged into a bright and windy day and crossed toward the waiting airplane.

  “Wow,” Amanda said, “I’ve never been on the tarmac before.”

  “Don’t say ‘tarmac,’” Luke said. “There’s no such thing as tarmac. It’s called the ramp, dear.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault. Every time a reporter talks about airplanes, it’s tarmac-this and tarmac-that. Buncha knuckleheads.”

  They ascended the stairs to find themselves in what appeared to be a small but comfortable sitting room. The décor was ivory colored with dark wood accents. The windows were large for an airplane, and the interior was bright. On either side of the aisle were two cream-colored captain’s chairs facing each other across a table. There was a couch against
the rear bulkhead.

  “This is great,” Lucy said.

  “It’s so kind of you,” Jenny said.

  “Yeah,” Amanda said. “This most definitely does not suck.”

  “Sit wherever you like,” Ruth said, indicating the chairs. “We’ll have some refreshments once we take off.”

  Amanda and Lucy sat across from each other in the starboard chairs. Jenny and Ruth took the other two.

  “What about Luke?” Lucy asked, watching Roy retract the stairs and secure the door.

  “Oh, Luke flies the plane. Luke and Roy.”

  Indeed, the two men were already seated and preparing to go. A moment later, they heard the whistle of the engines powering up. It was much quieter inside than out. Ruth leaned across the aisle and patted Lucy’s hand. Lucy looked over at her and smiled.

  “Like my husband says, don’t let those TSA guys get you down. We’re Christians, dear, and I always believed that there was a God, and that he made people to be good caretakers of the earth and all its creatures. As I grew older, I wasn’t quite as certain of all that. I mean, look at the world. And I also learned that if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it’s probably a duck.”

  “Duck?” Lucy asked.

  Ruth laughed. “It’s an expression. It means that you seem like a perfectly lovely young lady, and that’s good enough for me. I would no more go looking into your genes than you’d go looking into mine. I always believed that what people do in the privacy of their own jeans is their business.” They all laughed and then sat listening to the whistling roar.