CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

THE TRIP TO LA was difficult. After checking plane reservations, we realized the best route was to take Sioux Falls to Denver to LAX. A pity Sioux Falls was a four-hour drive from Elder. And with the security measures in place, which demanded we get to the airport two hours before our flight, we ended up leaving Elder at three in the morning. Aja didn’t mind. While I drove, she slept the whole way across half the state.

Our layover in Denver was three hours. I was exhausted by the time we got to LA. But Sleeping Beauty was full of energy. After we checked into the Century Plaza, the hotel Paradise Records had booked for us, Aja wanted to go to Disneyland.

“The sun sets in two hours,” I said after calling my parents to tell them that we had arrived safely. They already knew about the audition and were beyond excited. I continued. “We can go tomorrow, after the meeting with Richard Gratter. If you want.”

Aja was walking around our two-room suite, checking out all the nice touches. She’d already eaten the heart-shaped chocolates the maids had left on our pillows and raided the minibar for a ginger ale.

“I want what you want,” she said.

“Gimme a break. You may have the Big Person in your head but I think I know you pretty well by now. You have your likes and dislikes like everyone else.”

Aja stopped to stare at me. “I like what you like. That’s it.”

“Are you saying you honestly don’t have any personal desires?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not true. Those chocolates you just ate—you liked them.”

“I did. They were wonderful.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I enjoy everything.”

“Every minute of every day?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“But you’re with me. You chose to be with me. Surely you must get at least a little extra pleasure being with me than, say, Mike or Dale.”

“I love being with you. I love you.”

She had never told me that before. It was silly how much the three little words meant to me. Or maybe it wasn’t so silly. Every poet, every songwriter in history, was forever trying to convey how magical those words could be. I shouldn’t have been surprised when my heart beat faster.

But I was surprised I’d never said the words to her.

“I love you,” I said.

She smiled. “That makes me happy.”

I should have quit while I was ahead.

“But my question remains—do I make you happier than you usually are?”

Aja shook her head. “I can’t answer that question. It has no meaning to me. I . . .” She struggled for words. “There is no Aja. How can there be when I don’t have an ‘I’?”

“You have no individuality at all?”

“Not as you understand it.”

“But you’ve said that at certain times, like when you healed Mike, you acted as an individual. That’s why you got sick.”

“For moments, especially when I’m with you, I’m not just the Big Person. But even if a glimpse of what it means to be ‘Fred’s girlfriend’ comes, the Big Person still dominates.” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I’ve upset you.”

“No,” I lied. She loved me, great, but she didn’t exist, not as a human being. How was I supposed to take that? “It’s just hard to imagine what it’s like being you. Can you describe your moment-to-moment state? In a way a Little Person like me can understand?”

She considered before switching to a wicked smile. She pointed to the suite’s bathtub. It wasn’t technically a Jacuzzi but it was big enough to fit several couples and it had water jets.

“Later,” she said. “I’m having one of those ‘Fred’s girlfriend’ moments. Let’s take advantage of it.”

• • •

Hours later, after we’d made love, ordered room service, eaten more than our fill, we lay in bed watching a movie neither of us cared about. It was then my cell rang. It was Janet; I wasn’t surprised. I’d called earlier and left a message on her voice mail: “I know what Bo did.”

“So Aja couldn’t keep her mouth shut,” Janet said. “I should have known she’d talk.”

“Aja never said a word. I figured it out on my own.”

“Right. After all these years you suddenly had a flash of inspiration.”

“Talk to Bo if you don’t believe me.”

Janet snickered. “That ain’t going to happen.”

I sat up in bed, Aja watching me.

“Are you saying you’re not coming back?” I asked.

Janet was a long time answering. “I can’t.”

“That’s crazy. You’ve got to finish out the school year. You can stay at my house. My parents would love to have you.”

Again, she took forever to respond. “No. Then everyone would know. And that’s the last thing . . .” She struggled to speak. “I hate that you know. I hate how you must see me now.”

“Janet, you did nothing wrong.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Janet . . .”

“I have to go. I’ll call you.”

“Wait!”

She hung up. Feeling sad, I tossed my cell aside. “I know you have a strict privacy policy when it comes to those who come to you for help. But since I already know what’s hurting Janet I was wondering if we could talk about it.”

Aja took my hand. “You feel for her.”

“What I feel like is a fool. That Bo sexually molested her and I didn’t know. Especially when all the signs were right in front of me.”

“It happened when she was young.”

I felt awkward. “Do you know exactly what happened?”

“Yes.”

“Did she tell you or do you . . . just know?”

“I just know.”

I shook my head. “Damn that Bo. Walking around like he’s the greatest dad in the world. Like nothing in the world means more to him than his daughter. I can’t believe I fell for his act.”

“It wasn’t an act. He loves her.”

“How can you say that? Do you know what that kind of abuse can do? It can wreck a person for life.” I stopped. “I feel like killing him. I’m not joking—I’ve been thinking about it. Sneaking into his house at night, knocking him out, driving him out to the country, burying him alive. Pretty sick, huh?”

“You’re not a violent person.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

“Hurting Bo won’t help Janet.”

I looked at her. “Can you help her?”

“Not now.”

“Why not?”

“She doesn’t want my help.”

“I thought that’s why she spoke to you about her father.”

“It was.”

“Oh, I get it. Janet was too proud to ask for your help. That’s no surprise.”

“No. She asked.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Aja squeezed my hand. “Words cannot heal Janet.”

“Can the Big Person?”

Naturally, I waited for Aja to say yes. Hadn’t she told us again and again the Big Person could do anything? But she remained silent.

• • •

Paradise Records sent a limo to pick us up. Their headquarters were in Beverly Hills, fifteen minutes from the hotel. A pretty blonde met us at the entrance and escorted us to Richard Gratter’s office—a corner suite with floor-to-ceiling windows. It was a clear day and we could see the ocean.

The boss kept us waiting. But he sent along two VPs to keep us from bolting: Marc Kroff, who was in charge of marketing; and Jimmy Hurt, who focused on finding new talent. Jimmy told me at the start he’d loved my demo and the footage of Half Life playing at the Roadhouse.

“The sound quality wasn’t very good on the video,” I said.

“Who gives a damn about that?” Jimmy said. “You had the audience eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“Thanks. Our band is pretty tight.”

“Your band is okay and they’ll always be only okay,” Marc said. “It’s important you understand that up front. You have the voice, you have the looks. And it’s our understanding you write all the original material you play?”

So much for Paradise signing the whole band.

“That’s true.” I fiddled nervously with the jump drive in my hands. “I brought a new demo. I improved the first three songs and added a fourth.”

“Save it for when Richard gets here,” Jimmy said.

“Did he hear the original demo?” I asked lamely.

Marc smiled. “I can say yes if that will help you relax.”

Richard—Mr. Gratter—walked in half an hour later. Because he’d been close to Clara and her husband, I’d assumed he’d be old. But he appeared to be an incredibly fit fifty. His brown hair was long and stringy with streaks of gray. He wore his shirt open to show off his Hollywood tan; it looked like he’d gotten it during a partial eclipse. He had a friendly smile but his gray eyes were as cold as coins. He said all the right things but I could tell he was a bottom-line kind of guy. If I signed a deal with his company and didn’t make money on my first record there wouldn’t be a second one.

“I hear you have a demo,” Richard said finally, settling into a seat behind a huge desk. “How long is it?”

I stood and handed it over. “Sixteen minutes, four songs. The last one might be the strongest.”

“Why didn’t you put it first?” Jimmy asked.

“Because I’m from South Dakota,” I said.

The three of them thought that was funny and laughed. Richard slipped the jump drive into his computer and turned up the volume. The demo started with “Rose,” which had always been a favorite with our audiences. It was a basic love song about a guy who’s getting rejected. As it played, none of the executives looked too impressed.

The next two numbers were rock ballads. They started with me on acoustic guitar before the drums and electric guitars upped the amps. By the time song number three was done I knew I was finished. Richard was staring out the window and Jimmy and Marc were looking anywhere but at me. It didn’t matter if the two VPs liked the demo. If their boss didn’t, I was out the door. The only ammunition I had left was “Strange Girl.” I closed my eyes as it started to play. I felt sick to my stomach.

Strange girl

Where did you come from?

Where have you been?

Strange one

You’re so full of secrets

I can’t see within

Strange girl

You move so softly

Across the stage

My eyes can’t leave you

I’m hiding backstage

You’re a closed book

I can’t read a page

Strange girl

Where did you come from?

Where have you been?

Strange one

You’re so full of secrets

I can’t see within

Girl, it’s okay

If I can’t solve your riddle

As long as you stay

My heart feels troubled

You’re slipping away

Strange girl

I’m just your lover

Who’ll never discover

What you keep covered

Hidden inside . . .

The song ended and the room was silent. Aja nudged me and I opened my eyes. Jimmy and Marc were smiling. Richard was still staring at the sea but slowly he turned his chair in my direction and I saw he was laughing.

“Shit! That was brilliant,” Richard said.

I shrugged. “I like to think so.”

Richard leaped from his chair. He began to pace. “I want to get that song out before Christmas season. I can put you with a young producer Jimmy found. The guy’s a genius—he’ll get what you’re doing. Name’s—what’s his name?”

“Ralph Varanda,” Jimmy said.

“Yeah, Ralph,” Richard said. “He’ll rework your song a million different ways but don’t let that scare you. The guy’s obsessed with having tons of shit to mix. It’s just a process he goes through.” He paused. “You got an agent? A lawyer?”

“No.” I patted Aja’s arm. “But I’ve got a cool girlfriend.”

Richard liked that. For the first time he checked Aja out. “I bet you’re the one who inspired that song.”

Aja smiled but didn’t reply.

Richard frowned on top of his smile. “Hey, you look familiar. Wait, you’re not that chick they’re talking about on YouTube? The sexy healer?”

“This is her,” I said. “She’s a strange girl.”

Richard stabbed a finger toward us. “Perfect! We’ll put her in the video with you. We’ll have her heal someone on camera. The public will love it.”

I frowned. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Richard said.

“Aja, she’s kind of shy,” I said.

Richard studied Aja. “Think about it,” he said.

“I don’t—” I began.

Marc stepped forward, interrupting. “Fred, for us to do a deal fast you need to get representation. I can recommend a dozen agents you can speak to. Just be sure to choose the one you trust the most. And we’ll need you back here within ten days. Ralph has a break then. It’ll be a perfect time to put you two together in the studio. How does that sound?”

I stood, pulling Aja to her feet.

“It sounds wonderful,” I said.

• • •

That night, an hour after turning out the lights in our hotel room, I found myself sitting in a chair by the window looking out at the city lights. Except for a trip to Honolulu with my parents when I was a kid, I’d never been to a major city before. The size of LA staggered me, and the fact that it was after midnight and the streets were still busy with cars and pedestrians. Back home, even on the weekends, it was hard to buy a cup of coffee after eleven.

Of course I gazed at LA with rose-colored glasses. I’d just arrived and already it was offering to make me a star. It seemed too good to be true, which made me worry that it wasn’t true. I knew enough about the business to know that even if Paradise Records recorded “Strange Girl” and brought it out right away there was no guarantee it would hit the charts and change my life. Ninety percent of songs died the week they were released. A contract for one song meant nothing, I told myself.

Aja stirred in bed. “Can’t sleep?” she asked, her voice drowsy.

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

She pulled herself up on her pillow. “You’re worried your dream is still a dream?”

“You reading my mind?”

“I read it once when I met you. That was enough.”

I had to smile. “Then you know I’m afraid to be happy.”

Aja yawned. “All human beings are afraid to be happy.”

“We are. How come you’re not? What makes you so special?”

Aja sat up all the way. “I’m not human.”

“Are you an alien?”

“I told you yesterday, I’m no one.”

“And that lets you be everyone?”

“Yes.”

“You know, I don’t think it will matter how long we’re together. I’ll never really know you.”

“Is that a bad thing? You love mystery novels. You told me it’s your favorite genre, along with science fiction.”

I stood, wearing only a bathrobe, and walked toward the bed, sitting on the side. I took her hand. “I love a mystery story I can solve. But you and your Big Person—you keep saying you’re beyond words. What kind of story could anyone write about you when all he or she has to work with are words?”

Aja stroked my hand. “You write about love in your songs. And love is every bit as mysterious as the Big Person.”

“Is that true?” I asked.

“Yes. If you were forced to label the Big Person, you could call it absolute love.”

I leaned over and kissed her forehead. “So you’re love incarnate?”

“Yes.”

“You love everyone equally?”

“Yes.”

“And yet you love me more?”

“Yes.”

“Now you’re contradicting yourself.”

“Who cares?” She lifted my hand and kissed my fingers. “Talking about the Big Person always leads to paradoxes. That’s why I took so long to tell you about it.”

I stroked her hair and gazed into her eyes, which reflected the colored lights of the city outside our window. I felt so much love for her right then I feared I would explode.

“Tell me what you are experiencing right now,” I said.

“I wish I could.”

“You say the Big Person is infinite. Are you infinite this second?”

“Yes.”

“Are you bigger than this world?”

“Yes.”

“The solar system?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it like, Aja? Tell me?”

She gestured to the window, to the few faint stars visible above the glow of the city. “The stars are all there, inside me. And the whirlpool of a million galaxies—they float inside the ocean of love that gave birth to them and to me. When I became no one, when I dropped the silly idea that I was limited to a body and a mind, I became that ocean. I see the stars backward and forward in time. I see them being born. I see the worlds circling them. The people living on them. And I see them dying at the end of time, only to be reborn again.”

I was beyond astounded. What she was saying was impossible. That was clear. No human being could experience what she was describing. But what was even more clear was that she was not exaggerating. I felt it as she spoke. Her words had the naked power of truth.

“Tell me about the creatures on other worlds,” I said.

Aja grew thoughtful; her gaze turned inward.

“Some look like us, most look very different. No two worlds are exactly alike. But every world, no matter how alien or strange, is part of a vast mosaic that floats on an ocean of love. Here I’m only talking about the physical worlds. There are dimensions beyond those you can see with your eyes. There are the realms of the gods, the lands of the demons, the vast kingdoms of the angels. All these places are spoken about in ancient scriptures but somehow people have forgotten that they’re true.”

“What are angels like? Have you ever spoken to one?”

Aja grinned. “I’m talking to one now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were an angel before you were born as a human.”

“Really? Were all people?”

She shook her head. “The people on this world come from so many different places. It’s the reason it’s so hard for them to get along with each other. But when it comes to angels—there are only a few on earth.” She took my hand and pressed it to her heart. “You’re one of them.”

“If I’m an angel why am I so horny all the time?”

Aja laughed. “There’s nothing the angels love more than love. That’s what makes you such a hopeless romantic. That’s why you were so quick to chase after me.”

“Because as an angel I recognized you were a goddess?”

I meant it as a joke. But she nodded.

I went to speak, to ask another question, to take advantage of what was clearly a rare opportunity to get her to talk about herself. But I could think of nothing to say. Not only could I not find the words, I couldn’t find the thoughts. It was as if my mind was a candle she had blown out with the staggering admission of what she was.

Aja pulled off my robe and pulled me into bed. We didn’t make love, not again, but she held me inside a living image of what she had described. I saw other worlds. I saw angels and demons. But most of all I sensed all around me the ocean of love she had told me was beyond the worlds. It was inside as well as outside. It just was, forever and ever.

And I knew I was nothing but a child standing on the shore of that ocean, carefully dipping my toes into the water before dashing away each time a foaming wave washed ashore. All the time, though, I realized Aja was the sea; and no matter how much I loved her, and no matter how much I wanted to believe she was mine, she would forever remain the sea. While I would have to wait until the child in me was old enough and wise enough to dive into the ocean and to swim out to where she lived. Beyond the stars, beyond the worlds, beyond time.

It was so wonderful and yet so tragic. Where I stood was limited. Where she existed was unlimited. There were tides in her ocean that ebbed and flowed. An unexpected prompting had brought her to Elder and into my life. The pull of another current could take her away, to places I could only imagine.

Aja may have been able to hold on to me, but I would never be able to hold on to her. As I drifted off to sleep in her arms, I felt sorrow amid my joy. A faint and yet distinct foreboding that our time together would soon come to an end.