11 Familiar Faces in Unexpected Places
If you want to advertise, Times Square is the place to do it. 1.6 million people walk through there every day, and only about 276,000 actually work there, making the rest tourists or people who just want to hang out. The place got its name because it used to be the HQ for the New York Times. It is the most chaotic, mind boggling, and amazing place in the entire world. There are movie posters the size of the buildings they're stuck on. Broadway is mentioned on every billboard. People are sitting in the middle of the road, drawing caricatures and selling toasted almonds and stuff.
There are screens artfully cut for advertising, making the square a walk-in commercial. A man wearing only a pair of underwear and a cowboy hat walks around playing a guitar that blares THE NAKED COWBOY. I saw a car for the Jekyll and Hyde restaurant with zombies sticking out of the windows, and wondered if Melody would take me there someday.
We walked by a man with a box hanging around his neck. "Obama condoms!" he called. "Get your Obama condoms here!" Someone stopped him and handed him a twenty, and the man allowed them to pick six condoms from the box. On one corner, there's the Hershey's store, proclaiming every single sort of chocolate they sell in a crazy array of light-up signs. Across the street from it is the M&M Company, with a giant screen displaying all their wares.
At the head of the square is a building with shining glass windows, and on the side of that building is where the Ball is. 500,000 people gather every New Year's to watch that Ball drop. I wanted to be one of them.
We met up with Tall Guy in front of a place called Bubba Gump Shrimp. A long time ago, I saw the movie Forrest Gump, and was thus able to make the connection between the movie and the restaurant. Alex, Ayla and I were softly singing "Fireflies" when we saw him. "Hey," Melody greeted. "You said in your text that you found them."
"Not exactly," Tall Guy corrected. "I think I found where they are, though." He pulled out his phone and handed it to me. "Are those your parents?"
I stared at the picture on his phone. "Yeah!" I cried. "That's them! Where did you see these?"
Ayla peered over my shoulder. "Those are only pictures of them," she pointed out.
"Dr. Keel said their names were John Steed and Emma Peel," recalled Tall Guy. "He seemed to be hiding something."
"How do you know?" Alex tested.
"I'm a former FBI agent," Tall Guy answered. "Believe me, I can tell." He handed Melody a piece of paper. "Here's the address. Text me if you need anything."
"Thanks," Mel said. "It was just him, right?"
Tall Guy nodded. "He had a gun, though. I could see it in his pocket. Be careful, especially with the kids." He waved. "See ya." As he walked away, we caught a few notes of the Owl City song before he disappeared into the crowd.
"Bye," I said.
Melody unfolded the paper and swore loudly. I expected people to give her disapproving stares, but everyone continued with their day. Guess in New York, what with the Obama condoms and such, no one cares if you cuss. "What's wrong?" Ayla asked.
"Where this guy lives!" Mel hissed angrily. "It's high end New York. The fact that Mike got in there is worth a medal and induction to the hall of fame. Damn."
"Is high end New York hard to get to?" wondered Alex.
"Extremely," Nancy answered for Mel. "My grandmother lives there, and even then it's a pain."
Mel paused. "Your grandmother? Really?" You could see the thoughts connecting behind her doe brown eyes. "This could be good."
"Yay, scheming!" Ayla and Alex cried. "We've got a plan!"
***
Steed examined Emma's bullet wound. "Well, it stopped bleeding," he commented.
"Good," Emma replied. "I was beginning to think I would need that blood."
"Are you certain you feel alright?" he asked.
Emma smiled. "Don't worry, John. I'm fine." She stroked his face. "Has that brilliant mind of yours come up with an escape plan yet?"
"I'm actually considering waiting for Emery to show up," he admitted.
"We can't let her risk her life like that!" cried his wife.
"And we won't. She won't do it alone. Emery isn't stupid," Steed said. "I have complete confidence in her. Although I'm not too keen on missing out on the action." There was a loud crash above their heads. Steed looked up. "It sounds like our friend Keel is on a rampage."
"Your friend," she corrected, "not mine. I never liked him, you know."
"You met the man once!" Steed exclaimed. "You didn't even remember meeting him until now."
Emma shrugged, and winced at the pain in her arm. "Whatever. It doesn't matter."
There as another crash, followed by a furious yell. Keel came stampeding down the stairs, waving his gun. He shoved his hand through the bars and grabbed Emma. The barrel of the gun was against her head. "I need to shoot something," he growled.
Steed was on his feet. "There's no need to shoot her," he reasoned. "She's done nothing."
"Are you sure?" Keel asked. His eyes were unfocused and terrifying. "She married you, didn't she? It would give me great pleasure to see your face when I blow her brains all over the floor."
Emma froze and swallowed hard. "So just out of rage you're going to kill a woman? Is that how you function!?" she asked in a panicked voice.
"Do you want her to live, Steed?" Keel spat. "DO YOU!?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Steed. "Please, don't pull the trigger!"
Keel licked his lips like a madman. "Then get on your knees and beg," he hissed, pressing the gun deeper into Emma's skull. "Beg, John Steed!"
Immediately he was on his knees. "Please don't shoot her," he said. His eyes were fearful; there was no way to wit his way out of this situation. "I'm begging you, don't shoot my wife."
Keel licked his lips again. "Do you mean it, Steed?"
"Yes!" Steed screamed. "Don't shoot her!"
"Would you give your own life for hers?" Keel demanded.
"Absolutely," Steed replied.
Keel cocked the gun. "Give up your job, your life, and leave your family?"
"Anything," he whispered.
Emma gasped in pain as Keel pushed the gun even harder. "Never see her or Emery again?"
He said, "As long as I knew they were alive."
Keel hesitated, evidently surprised by how far Steed was willing to go for the safety of his family. He yelled in rage, took the gun from Emma's skull, and shot her in the leg instead.
Emma yelped in pain and crumpled to the ground, sliding down the bars. It hurt a thousand times more than the shot in her arm. The bullet was embedded deep in her leg, and her nerves were on fire. Tears of agony welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face. She was afraid to move her leg, aware that every motion sent a bolt of pain through her body.
Steed was at her side, ripping open her pant leg and using the fabric to dress the wound. Under his breath, she could hear him muttering curse after curse to Keel, damning him to hell and making a clear point of wanting to be the one to send him there.
"Are you alright, dear?" he asked, but he didn't look in her eyes. He was too focused on stopping the blood. "I would try to get the bullet out, but it went too deep. That damned bastard," he swore.
"I'm fine," Emma gasped. "I'll… I'll live."
Steed looked up and met her tear glazed eyes. "I'm afraid that if this keeps up, you won't live past the end of this week."
Emma forced herself to swallow the second bout of sobs she felt coming, in order to speak in comprehensible words. "Don't ever say that, John," she said fiercely. "We'll make it. Love conquers all."
"If only this were a fairytale," Steed said wistfully. "Then I would be tempted to believe those words."
"What makes you think this isn't one?" she questioned, successfully putting the pain out of her mind.
"If this were a fairytale, you would be the princess of some country with an unpronounceable name, Keel would be an evil sorcerer, and I would be on the outside, a prince, riding on a white stallion to save you. Possibly slaying a dragon on the way in." Steed grinned. "Instead, we, the king and queen, are held captive by a former knight, and our princess has teamed up with the court jesters and dragon in order to find us in the concrete jungle. Not what I would call a fairytale."
Emma looked thoughtful. "I agree. And Melody would love the comparison to a dragon."
"Exactly why I picked it," he said, his eyes sparkling. "And because dragons are soothed by music."
She punched him, weak and playful. "They are not, and music would only excite Mel. I'm certain that if she had music playing while she fought, she'd never lose."
He nodded knowingly. "Like me, right?"
Emma pulled him close and kissed him deeply. "Yes," she breathed in his ear. "Like you."
***
Melody whistled. "Damn, girl!" she cried. "Who the hell is your grandma?"
We were standing at the spindly gates of a house perched on a hill, the driveway winding from our feet and up to what was probably a million garages. The house, from where I was standing, looked to have about three stories, lots of rooms, and possibly an indoor pool.
"My grandmother was a Broadway star," Nancy said tersely, indicating that it wasn't something she was proud of. She pressed the buzzer, the dread clear on her face. "Grandma?" she said into the speaker. "It's Nancy."
There was a crackle. "Nancy? Oh, darling, darling, come in, come in! Here, here, I'll open the gates."
As the gates opened, Nancy turned to us, her gaze intense. "Whatever you guys do," she warned, "do not sing anything from Chicago, Rent, The Lion King, or any other Broadway musical you happen to know. Please? It's for the sake of our sanity."
***
Nancy's grandma's house was absolutely stunning. It had a Beverly Hills quality expected of movie stars, but much more cheery. The floor had an echo, but an incredibly welcoming one. The walls were covered with pictures and such.
The woman of the house herself was draped in a dress that resembled a window curtain, with feathery boas embracing her frail figure. She danced down the steps, beaming, and pulled Nancy into a well-rehearsed hug. "Nancy, Nancy, darling!" she cried. "Oh, I'm so very, very glad to see you! Who are your friends?" she asked, peering around her granddaughter.
Nancy looked awfully uncomfortable. "This is Melody," she introduced with her eyes on the ground, "Alex, Ayla, and Emery."
Alex, still acting the gentleman, stepped forward with his hand extended. "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs.…?"
"Call me Grandma, deary," she fluffed. "All of you. I've always wanted a lot of grandchildren!" Grandma whipped her boa around her neck, and I wondered if the feathers tickled her nose. "Come, come, let's go to the dining hall. We simply must eat something delectable. There is cause for celebration!" She spun around and whisked us through an enormous door and into the dining hall.
The dining hall was huge, with a table meant for fifty in the center. Chairs were lined up at the sides, as if they were expecting a banquet. A giant chandelier hung from the ceiling, weighed down with so many glimmering diamonds that I was afraid to sit directly beneath it.
"Lisa!" called Grandma. "Lisa, darling, we have guests!"
Out of a door on the side of the hall, a head poked out. "Guests?" the head repeated in an accented voice. "There is need for me to cook?"
"Yes, yes, sweetheart!" Grandma told her. "Bring us those cookies until the actual meal is ready."
Lisa came bustling out of the kitchen, and from her face I could see that she was Asian. "I make good cookies," she informed us with a smile as she set an enormous tray on the table. "You like, I promise." Lisa winked and hurried back into the kitchen.
The instant the plate was set on the table, Mel's hand shot out like an arrow and captured a handful of cookies. She ate one and, making sure Grandma wasn't watching, shoved the others in her pockets and down her shirt. Alex and I stared at her, but all she did was grab another and eat it.
Nancy began chatting politely with Grandma, while Ayla stuffed a particularly big one into her mouth. "Fery goof," she said in a muffled voice.
Alex shook his head. "In no way am I eating anything you say is good," he said firmly. "You could be pulling a prank."
With a roll of my eyes, I reached out, took a cookie, and nibbled it. It was the greatest cookie I'd ever eaten, still warm from the oven, with creamy milk chocolate chips and sweet dough melting in my mouth. "Oh, Alex," I said heavenly, "you don't want these. These are so horrible. Better let me eat all of them." I made a grab for another.
Alex lashed out and snatched the one I was aiming for, and, like his sister, managed to shove the entire cookie in his mouth. "Liar," he managed, bits of food flying out his mouth.
"So, darling, darling," Grandma said to Nancy. She now had a glass of champagne or something else specifically age twenty-one and up in her hand and was sipping it gingerly. "You didn't come all the way here just to pay a social visit, did you?"
Nancy hesitated, and took the opportunity to eat a cookie or two. "Well," she swallowed, "I'm here because of her." She pointed at me.
I jumped at being addressed, and suddenly became aware of how much of a slob I looked with cookie all over my face. Paranoid, I wiped it off my face with the back of my hand, straightened my posture, and looked Grandma in the eyes.
Grandma arched an eyebrow. "Emily? She dragged you here?"
"Emery," I corrected. "And I didn't drag Nancy here. She insisted on coming."
"For what?" Grandma quizzed, sipping that drink in such a dignified fashion that I was going to go crazy.
I shifted my weight uncomfortably. "Personal reasons," I said simply, aware of my face going red with the white lie. Dammit! Why was it so hard to lie!? Even little not-the-whole-truth lies. I simply couldn't do it!
Grandma eyed me skeptically over her glass, her white blonde hair reminding me of one of the pictures Dad had on the mantle.
"L-look," I stuttered, "we need to get to this one house in this neighborhood. Can you help us?"
She pursed her lips, her cloudy blue eyes evaluating every aspect of my being. Finally, she said, to Nancy, "How about Cathy?"
Nancy groaned. "No! Not Cathy!"
"Who's Cathy?" I inquired.
"My sister," Nancy answered. "The wonderful Cathy Gale."
Ayla, Alex, and Mel gasped in unison. "The Cathy Gale?" Ayla asked, awestruck.
"The one and only."
We spun around. Leaning against the frame of the enormous doors was a very beautiful woman, with long blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She wore a leather suit similar to the one my mom had that Nancy had worn, along with (woe and behold) kinky boots. She smiled mischievously.
"Hi Cathy," Nancy mumbled, not looking at her sister.
Cathy ignored her anyways; she had eyes only for me. "Would you look at that?" she said rhetorically. "Never thought Steed would settle down, but the proof's right in front of me."
Nervously, I brushed my hair behind my ear, a habit I'd learned from Mom. "People say I look nothing like my dad," I told her.
Cathy snorted. "I'd recognize Steed anywhere," she laughed. "And he's in your eyes."
I was about to point out that I had my mother's eyes, but then I realized that wasn't what she meant at all. Personality. She could see his mind and mannerisms in me. I gaped, unsure of what to say. "Thanks?" I said finally.
Then it hit me. Cathy Gale was the girl from the photo! That's why Grandma looked familiar; they were related! I felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner.
Confidently, Cathy slouched off her post at the door and came to stand beside her sister. Now that they were next to each other, I could see slight similarities; the shape of their noses, the curve of their eyes, small things like that. "So who are the other munchkins?"
"Alex and Ayla," the twins said proudly.
I swear, for the briefest instant, Cathy blanched, but then she was normal so quickly I wasn't sure if I had really seen anything. However, I caught Melody's eye, and she had seen something, too.
"And I'm Mel," Melody introduced. "I know you, you don't know me, we'll get along fine."
Cathy met Mel's brown eyes with a glare, but she changed expressions so fast that I couldn't really remember if these sightings were real or not. "So, what do you need me for?" Cathy asked nonchalantly.
"My parents," I said automatically, earning a scowl from Nancy. "They're being held captive somewhere around here." I met her eyes fiercely. "You worked with Dad for a long time. You must help."
Delicately, she picked a cookie from the plate and took a small, ladylike bite. "For one," she began after she had swallowed, "it was a very long time ago that I worked with him, and I've been out of the act for a while. Besides, seeing Steed again would be… awkward."
Melody snorted. We all turned to look at her, but her eyes were glued to her phone. "Awkward," she chuckled. "That's hilarious."
"I don't see anything funny about it," Cathy said sharply.
She put her phone away, laughing lightly. "Why don't you admit it?" Mel said. "I mean, no point in keeping secrets." Shaking her head, she placed her hands on the twins' shoulders and pointed at Cathy. "I've figured it all out, kids. Mrs. Gale here is your mother."
Uh oh. If there was ever a bad time for the truth, it was then. The twins collapsed to the floor, gaping, and Cathy started yelling at Melody. Nancy just about had a heart attack, while Grandma looked absolutely appalled.
Mel paid no attention to Cathy's screams. Instead, she began pacing. "And," she continued, "while we're at it, why don't you admit why it'd be awkward to see Steed?"
We all looked at Cathy expectantly. She was using the table for support, and looked on the verge of tears. "I, um, had… romantic interest in him for a while."
"And you made the mistake of letting him know," Mel finished for her, pausing in her walk.
Cathy nodded, biting her lip.
Mel resumed her pacing. "And, if I'm not mistaken, you never got over these affections for him, right?"
She sunk into a chair, nodding.
"Where do we come in?" Ayla asked. Desperation was shining in her eyes. She was so close to knowing the truth about her parents, and I couldn't blame her for being hopeful.
Although, if this was going where I thought it was going, I had two half-siblings and one very angry mom. Panicking, I spoke up. "So, um, did she, uh… seduce my dad?" I questioned Mel.
Everyone sat bolt upright as I said this. If that was what happened, it would tear my family apart.
To my immense relief, both Mel and Cathy shook their heads. I could breathe again. "No," Mel said certainly. "The twins are the same age as you, right? And if I know Steed, he would be a very faithful lover." She gazed at the twins. "Besides, look at their eyes. If they were Steed's, I'm pretty sure they'd have blue eyes."
"So who's the father?" Cathy spat. She was on her feet, right in Mel's face. "C'mon, Sherlock, who fathered the kids?"
"Someone in the Ministry," Mel answered. She ran a thoughtful finger across her mouth. "Let me think; you were upset about Steed, took some guy into the janitor's closet and boom! Your Eggo is Prego." Smirking, she placed her hands on Cathy's shoulders. "You didn't even know he'd married," she whispered. "Loved him for years after you lost contact, didn't cha? Seeing Emery here just about gave you a heart attack." Mel gazed into her swimming blue eyes. "Still love him," she stated.
Cathy sank into the nearest chair, her shoulders shaking with sobs, but none of us dared comfort her. Here in front of me was a woman who was still in love with my father, crying because of him, and what was I supposed to do about it? Sure, I felt bad for the girl, but… Dad loved Mom so much. I didn't want to see them any other way.
*AN: Yes, a sobbing lovesick Cathy. She's not the strong character she used to be, not here.*
