Chaplin’s hand had crept above my knee just as I heard a high pitched scream from the tiers behind us. The woman who shrieked must have read my mind as I was about to do the same to stop his lecherous groping. When I turned in the direction of the commotion above I saw four burly men carrying a sagging form towards the lobby. A tall brunette in a sequined gown walked haltingly behind the group. The dimmed theater lights faintly reflected off her dress as she disappeared behind a curtained doorway. The movie stopped rolling and the organist had arisen once more to soothe the disquieted crowd. It wasn’t until I faced forward in my seat that I realized Claudette was gone.
Chaplin was chatting to someone on his other side when I tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me Charlie, did you see my sister leave?”
He looked at me and raised his famous eyebrows. “My dear, did you say you were going to heave? Champagne does that sometimes.”
I shook my head. “No, I asked if you saw my sister leave.
He answered nonchalantly. “Yes, I saw her slip out of here right before all the yelling began. It looked like she was following a small man, an usher perhaps.”
I gathered my things to leave when he clutched my wrist to stop me. “Why don’t you stay a while and finish the movie. We can go back to my hotel room later and order some real cocktails.” He swirled his champagne glass and knocked it back in one gulp. “No more of this fuzzy French shit.”
I stood abruptly and extricated myself from his hold. “Honey, I’ll be right back. I need to go powder my nose.”
Chaplin shot me one of his famous twisted grins and slapped the chair beside him. “I’ll save your seat.” I could feel his eyes all over me as I escaped down the stairs. Two lascivious Charlie’s in one night were one too many.
I hurried into the lobby and ran into a sea of people surging towards the bar. Caught in the gridlock I bobbed along amidst the crowd unable to reach the front door. As I was swept forward I heard snippets of conversations all around me. Most folks were talking about the man who’d collapsed. Apparently, Adolph Spreckles, Jr. and his wife Alma had just settled into their seats when he slumped forward. Two buxom women in chiffon and crepe chattered as I waited for a chance to bolt. A strapping redhead leaned towards her friend and whispered out loud. “Well, I can’t imagine anyone calling their husband “sugar daddy,” even if he was a sugar baron. It’s simply vulgar. Eunice, did you know that Mrs. Spreckles posed in the nude? Her husband was twice her age.”
Eunice, the smaller of the two, made a face like she had smelled something sour. “Mildred, you always know all the delicious details. Look at that tart crying crocodile tears while they stuff her poor dead husband into the back of that ambulance.”
Suddenly energized, I reversed my direction and elbowed my way past the mass of tuxedoed men and corseted matrons. I finally reached the exit and passed by Mrs. Spreckles on my way out. She stood by watching and weeping into her silk handkerchief. I couldn’t help but feel badly that she maligned by gossips whom she had probably never met. Our eyes met for a moment and I gave her a sympathetic nod as I walked past.
Once outside I was dumbfounded and at a loss. Where was Claudette and who was the mysterious little man in black? It wasn’t like her to leave me high and dry especially under these precarious circumstances. Somehow though I knew instinctively that she’d left a clue behind. As quickly as the thought materialized I saw a small white card lying on the sidewalk. I retrieved it from the ground and smiled already knowing that it was Mr. Harry Lapin Blanc’s business card. Fortunately, Claudette had dropped this breadcrumb for me to follow. I asked the man at the theater’s taxicab stand to hale me a cab and I didn’t wait long. An old Ford taxi chugged up and I slid into the backseat. “Take me to 329 Liddell Street and please hurry.” The taxi pulled away from the curb and I turned back once to glance at the fading Castro theater. I knew that I would see it again in real time, or should I say, reel time?
The cabbie adjusted his mirror so that I could see his eyes. “Hey lady, just so you know Liddell is in an iffy part of town. You OK with that?”
I leaned forward and spoke to him over the seat. “I’ll be fine and thanks for your concern. I’m trying to find my twin sister and her friend. I know this is a shot in the dark, but did you see a tall blond and a short fellow in a black tux in front of the theater? It would have been about a half an hour ago.”
He slapped the dashboard as if to get my attention. “I thought I was going batty when I saw you on the sidewalk. You looked just like the pretty blond dame I dropped off about twenty minutes go. Sorry, I didn’t mean to get too personal. I let her off in some alley near Liddel Street and she was with a small ghost of a guy. You were wearing a different colored dress so the puzzle pieces didn’t match up. I notice these kinds of things in this business. Who knew I was actually seeing double. Twins, right?”
I gave him a weak smile and nodded. “Listen, it’s important that you drop me in the exact same spot where you left them off. I must find my sister as soon as possible.”
The cabbie adjusted his hat and tapped the steering wheel. “You got it, lady.” He remained silent for the remainder of the ride, until he took a sudden left turn and the car rolled to a stop. “Here ya go.” He stuck his hand out of the window and pointed. “When I dropped those two off they went under that archway over there and ducked into that brick building. Be safe now.”
I leaned into the car and paid him the fare plus a generous tip. “Sir, you are an observant man and the only normal person that I’ve talked to all tonight, aside from my sister. I am so grateful.” He tipped his hat and sped off into the night.
Lidell street was dark and deserted but I wasn’t afraid. I inhaled deeply and tried to regain some composure before I searched for my sister. A line from Grateful Dead’s song, “Truckin,” Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been, spontaneously slipped out of my mouth like one long moan. I sing when I’m nervous, old habits die hard. As I knocked on apartment number 329 I spoke out loud to myself, “Mr. Harry White Rabbit you had better be home.”
I noticed the door was painted in red enamel and that the same Chinese symbol from Li’s “Shanghai” entryway was positioned above it. I wasn’t sure if seeing it here was a good thing, but before I had a chance to contemplate further the door opened. Standing in front of me was a very petite and pale man. Before I could say anything he waved me in. “We have been waiting for you Paulette. Quickly get inside, hop to it, hop to it.” He reached up and tugged me through the opening then slammed and bolted the lock. “Claudette is fixing us some drinks in the kitchen. Come sit down, sit down.”
Lapin-Blanc invited me to take a seat on a compact sofa then he perched on a footstool nearby. I surreptitiously glanced around the room for details, clues, or any indictor as to why we had ended up in his apartment. Every square inch of the room was filled with furniture, books, paintings, pillows, figurines, and objets d’art exraordinare. When he spoke he scrunched his nose which made his two front teeth appear even larger. His words were accented with a slight lisp. “I see that you are admiring my collection.”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about since everything he possessed seemed to be a collection of sorts. “Ah, Mr. Lapin-Blanc I’m just curious how...”
He quickly cut me off. “Paulette, don’t be so formal, no formalities here. Please, you must call me Harry.” As he gave me a friendly scolding he nervously took off his glasses and swiped them clean with a cocktail napkin. It was then I noticed that his eyes were rose colored and I mean the iris part. A politically incorrect thought popped into my head, albino midget. Of course, I let it pass and tried not to stare.
Thankfully, Claudette appeared with a tray of drinks and placed a martini in front of me. “Well, hey sis, glad you could join us.” She faced Lapin-Blanc and handed him a drink. “Harry, I hope you don’t mind that I added a spot of cranberry juice, I know how you love the color pink.” I caught my sister’s eye momentarily and she raised an eyebrow in response. She also had prepared a tray of crackers and cheese with a side of vegetables. I was ravenous and could hardly contain myself from devouring the entire plate. I took a handful of each before passing it to my right.
Claudette squeezed in next to me on the sofa and we sat mashed together like Siamese twins. We lifted our glasses and toasted, “Cheers Harry.” Our drinks were consumed in two gulps. She immediately poured us seconds from the perspiring pitcher of cocktails that rested on the wooden coffee table. After a few more sips I felt blanketed in a warmth of euphoria, anesthetized by the velvet hammer known as a vodka martini.
My sister was ready to resume an earlier conversation. “Harry, I don’t know if we can ever unravel this time travel conundrum but you said you might be able to help us.” She turned to me. “Harry said he knows who the players are in this game.”
I watched closely as his nose went into non-stop twitch mode. “What kind of game are we talking about? What players?” Harry appeared agitated as he furiously rubbed his delicate hands together. My ex Vince had the same nervous tic. He'd also over anxiously rub his hands like a madman when the Lakers or some other team he liked were about to score.
Unfortunately, Harry ignored my question and changed the subject completely. “Yes, yes, I know all about your troubles. It began in Chinatown, I’m absolutely sure of it now. Listen, I’ll explain later, later is better. I want you both to get some rest. I’m sure the drinks have made you sleepy. I promise to tell you what I know tomorrow. I insist that you stay the night as my guests. I have a room ready, let me show you the way.”
Since we didn’t have anywhere else to go so we agreed to stay. Claudette and I wanted answers but at the same time we were completely exhausted. My body felt so weighted down I could hardly get up. My sis pulled me off the sofa and I followed behind as Harry led the way. She turned and whispered softly. “What difference does another day make?” I shrugged and didn’t argue the point.
The darkened hallway smelled of mold and decay. I prayed he wasn’t taking us on an underground route to bunny hollow hell. Harry had lit a candle and the meager flame reflected our gloomy shadows on the walls as we walked in single file. I swallowed my panic as the passageway to the back of the house became smaller and stuffier. I held onto the back of Claudette’s jacket so we wouldn’t be separated. Harry finally stopped and opened the door to a bedroom. “This room is ready for you, clean and ready for my twin guests. I have extra blankets in the closet if you get cold. Old houses do get drafty even in the summertime, no need to open the windows. Sleep well tonight girls and I promise by tomorrow you will have a much different perspective when....
Harry had set the candle on a dresser and shut the door in mid-sentence. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dusky lighting, I saw my sister sit down on something low. I waved my hand around the room. “Well Alice, I think we’ve done it now. We have literally and figuratively gone down the proverbial rabbit hole. I'm sure a conversation with the talking doorknob is next. This place reeks like a root cellar.” I tried to peer through the only window but the gesture was useless as all I could see was blackness.
Claudette patted the place next to her. “Come over here and lie down. I’m feeling really sleepy and kind of dizzy. Let’s crawl into this bed and get some sleep. We have earned it.”
Out of no where I felt woozy and light headed too. The cocktails and food had eased my hunger but this was a new sensation. We peeled back the sheets and climbed into the double bed. I pulled the down comforter up to our necks and turned onto my side. Automatically, we moved closer together for warmth just like we did when we were children. Claudette grabbed my hand. “Are you alright? I know this place bothers you. Close your eyes now and sleep tight. I am right here... here I am.”
She was asleep before I could answer or even tell her goodnight. I started to do deep breathing exercises to relieve my anxiety. To keep my sanity intact I tried not to entertain the thought that we could be sleeping in a burrow. Anything subterranean sent my mind reeling. For the second time this evening I prayed, but this time the prayer was for merciful sleep. As the only source of light snuffed itself out, I fell asleep and went directly to dreamland. Later, it felt like my body had turned upside down but I hadn’t moved. It was really warm now, and although my eyes were closed I sensed it was getting lighter outside. I curiously watched as kaleidoscopic swirls of snowflakes drifted by and dissipated before landing. I heard a women singing and her powerful contralto vocals easily penetrated the walls. I struggled to wake up and heard my own voice shout out loud, “White Rabbit. Yes, that’s the name of the song. Hey, turn up the sound!”
Someone draped a damp towel on my forehead. I heard a man talking to me from above but I couldn’t open my eyes yet. “Harry, is that you? I reached next to me for Claudette but she wasn’t there. “Claudette, where are you? If I don’t get out of this rabbit hole I’m going to scream.”
A soothing hand patted my shoulder. “Calm down, take a deep breath. Your sister is on the cot next to you. I think you got a hold of some really strong hallucinogens . Did you bring your own stuff or did someone give it to you at the concert?”
I pulled the rag off my forehead and looked at the person who had their hand under my head. “Ah, I’m kind of freaked out. When I went to bed last night I was at Harry Lapin Blanc's house on Liddell Street. I have no idea where I am now or who you are. I don’ t even know what year it is.
Standing over me was a man wearing a pair of jeans, black P.F. Flyers, and a white doctor’s jacket with a stethoscope hanging from his neck. He had brown shoulder length and a neatly trimmed beard. “I’m Dr. Jeremy Wright and you miss are in San Francisco at the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane concert in the park. It’s 1969, remember? This is the Emergency tent on the Polo Field. We take care of all the folks who are tripping out on crazy drugs.”
I looked around the room and sure enough I was inside a large white tent. There were several other casualties scattered throughout moaning at the unforeseen. I sat up and found Claudette lying on a cot an arms length away from me. She was asleep on her side with the sheet kicked off and was no longer dressed in head-to-toe satin. As I took in her new wardrobe I realized we had somehow overnight moved about forty-five years into the future. On her feet were a pair of leather sandals and she wore a rumpled muslin Mexican dress with embroidered flowers stitched across the bodice. Two yellow daisies were tucked inside her headband and a smeared peace sign was on her left check. After the first earthquake when we landed in Chinatown of yore, I’d wished that we were in the 60s. I think my wish just came true.
I gently pulled on Claudette’s hand. “Hey, wake up hippie chick, you are not going to believe this one.” While I waited for my twin to regain consciousness another song popped into my head. Ironically it wasn’t music by the Dead or Jefferson Airplane. It was a song by Grand Funk Railroad and I nervously hummed the first few lines out loud.
I'm your captain, I'm your captain,
Though I'm feeling mighty sick.
Everybody, listen to me,
And return me, my ship.
I'm your captain, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
I'm getting closer to my home ...
I'm getting closer to my home..
