Chapter 13 - Sudden Death
“Hey!” Claire was startled by a soft shout. She froze for a moment, not sure which direction to run. Auggie had to set the timer a few minutes ahead when he set LOKI back so Claire would have more time to correct her mistakes. “Aren’t you that Claire girl?” she could hear her fifteen-year-old mother ask innocently. Claire turned to see her mother, holding a paper grocery bag on the side walkway.
She knew she must have just left her mother and grandfather dumbfounded at the grocery store.
“Well?” Her mother’s eyes were wide and round, completely lacking the creases and wrinkles Claire remembered so vividly. She longed for this teenager to morph into her sixty-year-old mother, if only for a minute, just so she could tell her what to do or at least that what she was about to do was the right thing.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were talking to me,” was the only thing Claire could come up with. “Well your name is Claire, isn’t it?” was her mother’s curt reply.
“Actually, it’s Clarisse. Only my aunt calls me Claire, I hate it.” Claire couldn’t figure out why she was telling her mother yet another lie. She always wished her name was Clarisse because she thought Claire was such a plain name. All Claire could think about was Marilyn and how she wanted to be anywhere but right there at that moment, so she started to sidle toward the backyard. Every step was one step closer to Marilyn. Claire’s thoughts were interrupted by her mother’s next question. “Why do you hate it?” she asked, still looking wide eyed. Not able to think straight, Claire’s simple reply was “Claire is a fat girl’s name.” Her mother starred at her future daughter mysteriously as if she were thinking “o.k., it’s a fat girl’s name and you’re fat, so isn’t it fitting?”
Claire didn’t know what to say, she just knew she had to get out of there so she just ran.
Disaster avoided, she bolted up the back hill as her timer counted down to destiny. Panicking, Claire accosted the nearest cab and headed straight back to 12305 Fifth Helena Drive. As she stood once again in front of the last destination of her idol, Claire announced, “Cursum Perficio.” Her voice was louder than it should have been as Claire realized the echo she had heard earlier was actually her own voiced doubled. As Claire stood in shock, unable to move, she could see her alter ego from the previous timeline swirl around, Claire ducked just in time. She could see herself standing on the front stoop. Then Claire from the first timeline ducked into the front bushes. Marilyn and what must have been Larry’s backside could be seen entering the house.
Claire then carefully watched herself retreat to the backyard. Auggie had warned her this could happen, but she never imagined what it would be like. To be on the outside looking at yourself is a rare and frightening opportunity. Claire followed herself around back. She knew she couldn’t risk any contact with herself, but she didn’t know what else to do, but wait and watch.
Claire watched herself confront Marilyn, begging her not to commit suicide while Marilyn stared at her like she was a nut. Being on the outside, she could see just how crazy she must have seemed to Marilyn. She watched herself run off to the woods after Marilyn called for help.
She saw Bobby Kennedy and Peter Lawson come and go. Dr. Greenson also showed up and departed. She saw Eunice, Pat and Maf Honey walk past the patio windows several times each. It was approaching midnight and Claire’s timer was once again running down. It was the moment of truth. She carefully snuck around the back of the house and across the street to hide in the neighbor’s bushes, waiting for herself to make the biggest mistake she’s ever made in her life…again.
A street light flickered as Claire saw the dark figure darting around the side of Marilyn’s house followed closely by her own chubby, dark figure. She could have sworn she looked right into her own eyes for just a moment before the ‘other’ Claire turned around and darted in the opposite direction to check on Marilyn. A car was fast approaching on Claire’s right as a cold blooded killer was sprinting directly toward her. In that moment, Claire’s fate was sealed. “Fix it,” she repeated to herself. Before the words were completely out of her mouth she could feel her feet moving underneath her. Her eyes were now locked with Tony Piccelli’s as the two were barreling toward each other on a collision course.
Tony stopped in his tracks, startled by the twin of his pursuer. He swung around to look behind him but saw nothing. As he turned back around he saw the flash of headlights and felt a hard jolt in his chest like he had just slammed into a brick wall, or rather a brick wall slammed into him. Claire flew through the air as she pushed her idol’s killer out of the way of the speeding car. She just saved the life of a man she despised. A man who, in five minutes, would kill her idol. Dazed, as the car sped by, Tony pushed an equally dazed Claire off of him and stumbled to his feet. Cringing in pain, Claire looked up in time to see Tony sprint off once again, in the wrong direction. “Wait” she whispered then gasped. “Wait!” she managed a shout. The killer ignored her.
Claire managed to get to her feet and started limping in the direction of the killer. “Wait!” she shouted again. Realizing it was going to take something mightier, she screamed “Tony Piccelli! Stop right there you stupid mother fucker!” She slowed to a stop as she saw the hitman do the same.
As she bent over to catch her breath, she heard, “Who the fuck are you?” His voice was squeaky and frightened, thick with a New York accent. Catching her breath, Claire approached the lackey. Staring wildly at the doppelganger that just slammed into him for a second time, Tony shouted “Stay back you crazy broad!” Claire knew she had to take control.
“Shut up, keep your stupid fucking voice down,” she said authoritatively in her best New York imitation accent as she grabbed him by the shoulder of his shirt and pushed him into a thicket of trees and bushes. “Do you want to get caught you stupid mother fucker?” If I say fucker one more time, she thought. Her stomach churned as she searched for the right words.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked a second time.
“Who am I?” Claire echoed. Who am I, she thought. “I work for the same people you work for, you stupid shit.”
“Oh yeah, a broad working for…” his voice trailed off as he turned his head in the other direction. He was too late, though. Claire saw her earlier self disappear out of the corner of her eye. Tony blinked and turned his attention back to the only Claire left. “O.K. who’s your boss then, toots?”
“What kind of a moron do you think I am,” she was thinking on her feet, “I say the boss’ name and I sleep with the fishes.” Sleep with the fishes, what a ridiculous term, she thought as Tony stared at her in agreement. “And so will you, if you mention this conversation to anyone” that had a nice ring to it, she thought. “Listen, the only one supposed to be sleeping with the fishes is the blonde,” Claire said as her heart secretly sank. “You have a job to do.”
She thought pushing Tony out of the way of the car would be enough to set things back on their previous path. She wasn’t counting on him being spooked by double vision. “What the hell are you doing here then,” Tony persisted.
“I’m here to make sure you do your job ya moron, what do you think I’m doing here? The boss bought a little insurance policy on this job,” she continued, “and it looks like I got here just in time; get a little case of scaredy cat, Anthony?” Scaredy cat? Oh God, he’ll know she’s lying for sure she thought.
“Hey, who you callin’ scared?” Tony asked as he puffed up his chest in protest. You, you moron, she thought. “I ain’t never let the boss down and I ain’t gonna start now. Stay out of my way, bitch. Tony Piccelli is a professionalist.” With this new found case of high and mighty, Tony headed back toward Marilyn’s house.
Claire watched her destiny walk away into the night. She knew she should follow Tony, and make sure he did what she told him, but it wasn’t in her. She just helped the man that was going to murder the beautiful Marilyn Monroe and she didn’t know how she was going to live with he
rself. Fix it, she thought, right what once went wrong.
She worked up her courage and reluctantly headed toward Marilyn’s bedroom window. When she arrived, Tony was already gone. She could see the beautiful Marilyn lying on her bed, naked, partially covered by a white sheet. Her majesty was still awe-inspiring. As Claire stood and stared at the corpse of her idol she thought about her conversation with the old Marilyn. “Who were you to decide whether or not I should have died, kid? You God now?” Marilyn’s angry voice echoed in Claire’s ears. “You still have a chance for redemption. Go back, Claire. Go back and fix it.” Redemption, Claire thought.
“Is this redempt…?” she said out loud. Before she could finish the question, her very being was shaken with the force of hurricane winds. 1962 was disappearing forever as Claire was transported back to her own time.
Auggie was standing in the den with a huge smile on his face. His smile quickly turned into a frown when he saw the look on Claire’s face. “What’s wrong, Claire?” he almost shouted. “Everything, Auggie, everything.” Auggie looked horrified. “I have a lot to tell you and you’re not going to like it,” Claire said with concern. “But first, I have do something,” she said urgently as she ran to the attic.
She threw old boxes aside with a little too much aggression. After about a minute, she found the box she was looking for. It was old and dusty with the word “SHOES” written on top. Claire sat down on the attic floor and opened it like a kid would rip through wrapping paper on Christmas morning. She threw out several pairs of baby shoes and dozens of pictures until she got to the photo album labeled “Mexico, 1986.”
Claire opened it with the most trepidation anyone could ever muster. This time there was no giggling at old pictures. She breezed past pages and pages of her sixteen year old counterpart posing at various Mexican landmarks until she came up to the page she was so desperately searching for. “This is it,” she said hopefully as she turned the final page, wishing, almost praying for what she needed to see. “Please, please, please,” she begged.
There, against the black background, was the family photo, and right in the middle between a smiling Kathy and a smug Claire with her tongue hanging out, was her brother, Matthew. He was looking at Claire, smiling with his arms crossing his chest just as Claire remembered. A sigh of relief passed her lips. “What’s going on, Claire?” came Auggie’s voice from behind her. She swung around.
“What do you know about Marilyn Monroe?” she asked, relieved.
“The Marilyn Monroe expert is asking me about Marilyn Monroe?” he replied.
“I promise I’ll tell you everything, just please answer a few questions for me, Auggie, it’s important.” Seeing the seriousness of her request, Auggie obliged.
He told her how Marilyn died in a probable suicide in the sixties. When she asked about the Kennedys, his concern mounted but he explained how the president was assassinated in 1963 and how his brother’s assassination followed in 1968. Claire asked about war in the Middle East. The Gulf War and the war in Iraq were the only ones that came to Auggie’s mind, but they were in their proper time frame, much to Claire’s relief. He told her about her life, her mother, her brother. Auggie patiently shared details that he thought Claire should have already known. His brow never un-furrowed as he awaited Claire’s explanation.
Auggie stood in the attic doorway with a great look of concern on his face. “Come, sit,” she invited. There, on the attic floor, as Auggie listened attentively, Claire fulfilled her promise. She told Auggie every last detail, some for the second time. Same Auggie, different time. He listened attentively, frowning at various points, but mostly just listening, completely silent. Claire told her story, carefully gauging Auggie’s facial expressions. Listening for every sigh, watching for a slight shaking of the head or shifting of weight. When she was through, they sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Claire was still clutching the picture.
“Well, you know what we have to do then, Claire,” was Auggie’s subtle response.
She had just told him that she lied to him, disobeyed his wishes and risked changing the entire world and all he could say was, “you know what we have to do.” Auggie didn’t yell, he didn’t get angry and he didn’t blame Claire. They turned and headed toward the attic door on their way to the den to destroy LOKI and the terrible power that went with it.
As Auggie led the way, Claire trailed behind, talking one last look at the picture she was still clutching. “Fix it” she said and smiled, just a little because she knew she had.
As she turned out the light to the disheveled attic she heard Auggie exclaim “Hurry up, CLARISSE!” Claire stopped in her tracks.
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