Authors: Lara Parker
snow, only a rolling green lawn that fl owed to the cliff s above
the sea. It was a warm summer night fragrant with the perfume
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of dozens of rose bushes that lined the walks.
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“What happened to the house?” he said in astonishment,
looking over at Jackie, but she was speechless and merely gazed
at the spectacle with her mouth agape.
Lights were strung across the grass and hung in the trees
where tables were arranged around a canvas dance fl oor. Music
wafted from out of the doors fl ung open to the warm night air,
and there seemed to be people everywhere, strolling in groups of
three or fi ve, the men in slim suits and the girls in gauzy dresses of every color of the rainbow.
David drove to the entrance and stopped the car beneath
the stone portico.
“What the hell is this?” he said to Jackie. “Where are we?”
But she had already opened the car door and, drawn by the fes-
tivities, was walking across the gravel toward the ballroom.
David hurried to follow her, afraid of losing her in the crush of
people who were talking in loud voices over the music and
sometimes breaking into peals of hysterical laughter.
“Jackie, wait. We should go back.” He looked behind him at
the car parked under the portico and it seemed to radiate glam-
our and luxury, its long green chassis gleaming under the many
lights. But it was not the only one. Automobiles lined the drive-
way in rows, some even fl ashier and more elaborate than the
Duesenberg, ivory, and yellow, or glossy black, all tall rectangu-
lar chariots, each one more beautiful than the last.
When he turned again, Jackie had threaded the crowd and
was headed around the back of the house. His mind a jumble, he
crossed the lawn strewn with tables and waiters moving among
the guests with trays of hors d’oeuvres and glasses of pale gold
liquid that he guessed was champagne. He saw Jackie reach over
and take a crystal goblet as the waiter bowed to her. Jostling
people aside, he caught up with her, terrifi ed now, and completely disoriented. “Jackie, wait. Stop. We have to get out of here!”
She turned to him and her face was glowing, her eyes lively
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in a way he had never seen. “Why? It’s lovely. I’ve never seen
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anything so lovely.”
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“But . . . it’s wrong . . . I think we went the wrong way. We
need to go back to the car.”
“Oh, David, don’t worry. It’s exciting! Something brought
us here. We might as well enjoy it. Come on, let’s explore. Look!
Look at the green house! It’s completely diff erent!” She grabbed
his hand and raced across the wide lawn scattered with linen-
clothed tables and chairs, of couples drinking and eating pâté
and jellied salad, and led him to the giant steel structure where
every glistening pane of glass was intact. Lit from within with
strings of lights, it loomed against the sky, its steel arches nearly invisible within the glittering casing.
“It’s magical,” she cried, opening the front portal. “It’s like a
jungle!”
Th
e interior was lush and overfl owing with enormous leaves
and dark green trees blooming with pink and purple fl owers
exuding a tropical fragrance. Th
ere were oddly shaped cactus,
and rows and rows of orchids.
“Th
ere must be jaguars hiding in the foliage,” she said,
laughing when she saw parrots in the high branches. She looked
like a daguerreotype from another time standing among the
fl owers in her fl apper dress. Th
e air was thick with perfume and
moisture, and when David looked at her, he was torn between a
desperate fear for their safety and a strong urge to lose himself as well in the excitement of the moment. She seemed to sense his
anxiety, because she took both his hands.
“Don’t you see?” she whispered. “Th
e spirits who were try-
ing to contact us.”
David felt a shiver. “What do you mean?”
“Th
ey’re here!”
“Jackie, I— I don’t want to connect with any spirits.”
But she cried, “Th
e pool!” and he stumbled after her. He
barely recognized the brick building. Th
e columns were a vivid
white and the facade was painted green and silver. Inside, a
dozen or so guests in one- piece bathing suits were diving off the
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sides or splashing in the blue- black water. Screams of delight he
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thought he remembered from his terrifying trespass only a few
weeks earlier echoed off the walls, and he was astonished to see
a girl creep up behind a boy who was preparing to dive and shove
him into the water. He remembered the hands on his back, and
he was nearly suff ocated by the thick aromatic air, as the mist
rose off the water and the wet arms and legs of the swimmers
glowed in the lights.
Th
en without warning, a few of the swimmers stepped out
of their suits and with giggles and sharp cries jumped naked
into the pool, laughing and splashing one another with joyful
abandon. “Can you believe it?” Jackie cried, not out of incredu-
lity but out of enchantment. “It’s another world! Another time!”
David had long ago realized that Jackie could merge with
what ever world she inhabited and the more mysterious or bi-
zarre it was, the more seductive it seemed to her. She was prone
to black moods, but she could also be swept away on a manic
high of hysteria that left her without any control. And this was
uncanny and disturbing. Was it a dream? A vision? He walked
to the edge of the pool and was crouching to feel the water when
he felt two hands on his back pressing fi rmly, and he jumped up
and whirled around. Jackie was giggling. “Scared you, didn’t I?”
Exasperated, David pulled her out the door of the pool house.
“Jackie, what ever it is, stay with me, I don’t want to lose you.”
But even though he tried to keep hold of her hand, she broke
away and ran back toward the garden, only to stop beside a wait-
er’s tray to grab another oversized glass of champagne. David,
feeling now like a faithful puppy, caught her again at the back
veranda standing in the bustle of whispering, murmuring, and
hysterically laughing people. His head was spinning with bewil-
derment.
“Jackie, we have to get out of here. I’m afraid.”
She sipped her champagne, then looked up at him with her
bewitching eyes. “But I don’t want to go. I want to stay here and
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enjoy the party. You go,” she said, “and leave me here.”
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He was stunned by her remark and watched her turn and
walk toward the dance fl oor where orchestra members in white
tie and tails were playing on a raised stage— strings, oboes,
clarinets, and drums. Th
ey exploded into a jazzy tune and sev-
eral people began to dance— wild vigorous steps that defi ed
gravity.
Baby face! You’ve got the cutest little baby face!
A golden- haired girl was in their midst, her slippered feet
fl ashing, her graceful body twisting in what he remembered was
the Charleston. She wore a dress that appeared to be made en-
tirely of diamonds, a beaded fringe that shimmered when she
moved. Th
e dress hung on her naked body and was caught in
the back by a single strap that left her delicate backbone ex-
posed to below her waist. Her neat bobbed hair accentuated her
long neck and smooth skin, and, with her arms fl oating out
from her shoulders and a delighted grin on her face, she shim-
mied parts of her body, her hips, her chest, making the fringe
leap in frenzied agitation.
A boy in pressed white pants with his hair slicked back
jumped on the dance fl oor, grabbed her around the waist, and
picked her up and twirled her. She squealed in surprise, but as
soon as he set her down, she leapt back into the frenzy. Close by
her side, Jackie was not as skilled, but she watched the girl’s
movements and soon was duplicating her jerky, contorted cho-
reography, her eyes glazed with happiness. As David watched
he felt his throat tighten. He had no idea what to do.
He found himself drawn into a crowd of men wearing
starched and pleated white shirtfronts and bow ties that perched
at their throats like the wings of birds. He caught a few snatches
of their conversation as he wandered among them, but they made
no sense.
“Th
at’s nothing! A worker climbed out on the top of 11 Wall
to make some repairs and everyone thought he was going to
jump.”
“What? Th
ey thought he was a suicide?”
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“A crowd gathered because they expected a riot. Th
ey called
the cops in case the bankers and the brokers decided to duke it
out.”
Th
e men all laughed and took swigs of champagne, then
looked about the party as though it had been staged just for
them. One of the men lifted his glass in a toast. “And here we
are, still makin’ whoopee and getting away with it, by God.”
“Not everyone,” said one of the drinkers soberly. “Th
e other
day I saw a man on the street with his hat in his hands, begging
for a handout. I realized I knew him.”
“Too bad, but even Capone said the stock market is nothing
but a racket. And as the song says, ‘Th
ere’s nothing surer. Th
e rich
get richer and the poor get poorer—’ ”
“Attaboy! Ain’t we got fun?”
Th
en the group wandered off toward the back of the house,
still talking among themselves, their conversation unfathom-
able to David, just as the orchestra broke into the song as though
on cue.
In the mornin’, in the evenin’, ain’t we got fun!
David moved through the crowd. Th
e women were jeweled
and feathered and fl aunted tiny fur wraps even though the night
was balmy. Th
ere was a fragrance of apple blossoms and newly
cut grass, and the cicadas and tree frogs hissed as though keep-
ing time with the band. Th
e music tumbled through the night
air with horns and a jazzy piano, songs he remembered from the
Twenties:
Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fl eas do it . . .
Catching her fi nally at the edge of the dance fl oor, David
cried out, “Jackie, please, come with me back to the car.” He
looked around at the turbulent party, couples bopping up and
down to the jazz orchestra in the ballroom, raucous laughter
pouring across the lawn. “Let’s just drive away and see what hap-
pens. It brought us here. It ought to take us home.”
“Oh, David, go away!” Her eyes blazed.
He grabbed her hand and felt relief at having hold of her
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rather than chasing her shadow. His heart seemed about to
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burst. Th
ere was a sharp pain in his chest when he tried to
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breathe, but he held on to her, and he looked for the green auto-
mobile parked in front of the entrance in the long line of elegant
cars that all together resembled an exotic museum of outdated
vehicles.
At that moment, the girl in the silver dress appeared under
the portico with a tall man, someone he knew.
“Look! It’s Quentin!” David cried with enormous relief.
Maybe it had all been some kind of crazy pageant.
“Who?”
“It’s my cousin, Quentin. Come on!” Running over the lawn
with Jackie’s hand in his, David shouted. “Quentin, wait!”
Th
ey headed for the car but stopped because Quentin was
already inside it unfastening the convertible top and pressing in
back. Th
e girl sang out, “Oh, marvelous, Jordon’s brought the
Doozie round!” and fl ushed with excitement, she sprang behind
the wheel and started the engine as Quentin leapt over the pas-
senger door and slid in beside her. He caught her up in an em-
brace and kissed her deeply, his arm about her slim waist and
her willowy body arched against him.
“How can it be Quentin?” cried Jackie. “He looks the
same—” But she gasped as she grabbed David’s arm and caught
his eye. “David! It’s the portrait. He never aged!”
“I know, but . . . he’ll help us, won’t he?” David said, and
called, “Quentin . . . ?”
Jackie said, “Shhhh,” and pulled him back into the shad-
ows.
Quentin and the girl were embracing in the front seat of the
car, and it seemed rude to interrupt them. Quentin slipped his