10 comments/ 13533 views/ 14 favorites The All or Nothing Game By: thomcats THE ALL OR NOTHING GAME Eva converged with Fate at a crucial point. She got a terrific offer, and now she was on her way to her life's adventure! She was to join the world tour of Julian Woolfe!! One man's loss is another man's gain as they say. Eva Sanderson knew that, but the harsh reality of it was nonetheless hard to accept. And as always, in moments of crisis, she went back home to Granny to talk it over with her and get her advice. Back home was in South Dakota, somewhere on the endless, grassy plains between the James and Missouri rivers. When she asked the driver of the bus between Madison and Huron to stop in the middle of nowhere, he looked at her with curiosity and had a question on the tip of his tongue. But she looked at him noncommittally, standing close to the door with her small suitcase in her hand, just waiting for him to open it. So, without any comments he let her out, and she climbed down onto the road and watched the bus disappear in the distance in a cloud of dust. A great silence fell over and around her, and she sat down on her suitcase to wait patiently for Granny or whomever Granny might send along. The fields, gently billowing in the soft breeze, stretched forever around her touching the horizon at all the points of the compass. The sky was light blue and slightly hazy. Eva closed her eyes a bit and thought about Granny. She wondered how many times she had prompted the old woman to move into something more convenient and easier to manage than that farm out on the plains. "Never!" Granny had replied vehemently. "I've lived here all my life and my family before me. And, mind you, I'll die here too. They'll have to carry me off this estate." And that was always the end of the discussion. Deep down Eva was happy that Granny persisted somehow because Eva looked upon this place as her real home. This was what came to her mind, when out in the world, and this place was where she longed to be whenever she was in trouble facing the dire realities of making life work. It hadn't always been her home, of course, but still for such a long time that Eva couldn't remember living in another place although she was told stories of her childhood. She had come to stay with Granny when she was three years old at the moment her father had left the family for good; the father being Granny's youngest son and therefore making her Eva's paternal grandmother. Eva didn't know why her mother had chosen to go to the family of her husband instead of her own family when caught in this trauma, but as with all things that concerned her mother, it was muddled, shrouded in questions and secrets, and Eva didn't care to find out why. If she didn't remember anything about her father leaving her life, the memory of her mother breaking up and disappearing out of view was all the more vivid and painful. Eva was close to six years old when she one day overheard a heated discussion between Granny and her mother. "I realize that there isn't much I can do to persuade you to think over your situation and make another choice. We've talked about this now so many, many times. But I just want to let you know that although I might not be able to keep you from making a mess of your own life, I will never let you ruin Eva's! You may go and do whatever you want, but she stays here!" Eva couldn't hear what her mother had answered -- only the shrill tone of her voice - and then how the two women had started to shout at each other. Not wanting to hear more of the awful argument going on, Eva put her hands over her ears and ran out of the house and into the barn to hide. A few days later her mother approached her with awkwardness and tried to explain that she was "only going to be away for a couple of months and that there was this big opportunity, which she couldn't miss out on . . . and of course she would come and pick up Eva as soon as everything was settled and her future secured." This was now twenty years ago. Eva had turned to Granny, hiding behind her skirts and refusing even to talk to her mother, and from that moment on Granny was the only relative whom Eva ever came to accept, the only one she ever trusted completely and the only one she ever cared for and whose judgment, in all that was hard to deal with, was like the verdict of King Solomon out of the Bible. That was why Eva was on her way to Granny now. And Granny had never let her down. If it wasn't for Granny, Eva knew that she might even have died the way her own parents had died eventually. Coming this far in her roaming thoughts, Eva always closed a door inside. She knew that it was a matter, which she hadn't fully penetrated and which was so filled with pain that she couldn't really touch on it yet. Eva knew that Granny was aware of this too, and Granny had refrained from talking about it save for the mere practical details, which were necessary to know and to deal with. Since Eva hadn't had any opportunity to get to know her father, the news of his death and the implications of it only had to do with the silent sorrow Granny harbored. Eva mourned with Granny and lamented that she couldn't feel any real feelings when confronted with her father's death. It might as well have been that of a distant relative. Her father had died the death of a mercenary soldier in a meaningless war somewhere in Africa. Eva's mother had survived him with more than ten years and was eventually found in a pad in San Francisco, dead from a heroin overdose. Over the years, Eva had received a couple of mails from her mother and once even a telephone call. These sparse contacts had only enhanced her feeling of loneliness and being left to look after herself, and it made her believe even more firmly that she was the only one, who could chisel out the future. But again, she knew that without Granny, she wouldn't have made it through these difficult times. She felt a wave of warmth and love wash over her when she thought of the old woman. Lost in her memories, Eva almost missed the first sound of a vehicle approaching her. When she was a child and was waiting at the side of the road for someone to fetch her, she had amused herself to find out how long it took for the car to reach her from the moment she spotted it. Now she saw a cloud of dust in the distance and heard the engine of the old Ford very clearly. She laughed quietly. She knew that it was Granny herself coming to pick her up because no one cared to drive that rickety old car but her. Eva was on her feet before the car had come to a stop and she ran towards the woman, who disengaged herself from the wheel with some difficulty. They hugged and performed a little dance on the road, and they could almost have fallen to the ground if Eva hadn't stopped them in time. "It's so wonderful to be back again..." "I've missed you so much these months . . . " They spoke breathlessly at the same time and began to laugh. At last they managed to look at each other fully and composedly. "You've really been gone so long this time," Granny said and then started to look Eva over, scrutinizing her. "You've lost even more weight since I saw you last. You're not eating properly in New York!" "Oh Granny! Don't worry, everything is fine and I'm fine!" Eva laughed. "Come on now, let's go home, we can't stand here in the middle of the road. The sun will be setting soon." And so they went to the car and started their way to the farm, a drive Eva knew would take them around half an hour. She had done it so many times before, as for example during every weekend of her school days. When she started school, she had gone to live with her uncle Marshall in Huron. Marshall was Granny's oldest son and a lawyer with a blooming business in the city. Granny always said that God gave all the mirth to Eva's father and only left the gloom for Marshall. But Marshall was a pillar of strength and Eva knew that neither she nor Granny would have coped without him and all the help he had provided when Eva's parents died. Eva also knew that Marshall took care of all legal business tied to the farm, which was a great relief for Granny. "Have you had any news from Marshall recently?" Eva asked, thinking about him now. "Yes dear, everything is fine and he sends his love. He might come with the family for the weekend, but it's not fully decided yet. That depends on how much work his present case in court will burden him with." "Ah!" Eva exclaimed. "Granny, I don't know if I will be able to stay over the weekend. You see, that depends on the decision I have to make. And Granny, that is what I need to talk to you about. But not here in the car, not now." "On the contrary," Granny replied. "Here is as good a place as any; we won't be disturbed by anyone." And so Eva began to unburden her mind to Granny on the decision that might change her life forever. Actually, it all had to do with work. The line of work Eva had chosen for herself. Or maybe it would be more accurate in telling of her passion because sometimes that word was a better description. Eva was but a child when she displayed a talent for working with colors, and when no canvases were around to use, she used her own face and that of anyone, who complied to be transformed into a clown, cat, fairy or monster; all according to the whim of the artist. Eva was never in any doubt that this would eventually be her vocation, and she had applied to a college in California where she could pursue her talents and become the makeup artist she wanted to be. The practice was the fun part. Eva teamed up with another student, Janet, who was perhaps even more daring in her choices of color and hairstyle than Eva was herself, and together they offered to do makeup jobs in small theaters and for young aspiring Hollywood stars and charged nothing for their services. Janet's big break came when she fell in love with a country musician. She went off with him to Nashville and eventually landed a top job there, doing the makeup for a TV show. Eva used to marvel at reading Janet's name in the credits at the end of its episodes. Eva's life wasn't without romantic involvements either, but nothing left a lasting impression on her. In fact, she didn't want to tie herself down. She wanted to go east, to New York, and try her luck in the theater business. She knew of course that she hadn't made it easy for herself. She could only guess at the number of makeup artists in the area and how they all waited for that big chance to turn up, which would bring them instant fame and recognition. But she persisted and finally got a steady job as an assistant at a TV station, making people ready for the camera and their live interviews and also doing the makeup for the news anchors. Eva was satisfied with her life. She supported herself and didn't have to ask anyone for help. She even managed to get hold of a small flat in Brooklyn in a quiet area, which felt very far from the bustling city across the bridge. Eva met Janet now and then, especially when Janet visited New York with her fiancé, the musician. Janet confided that she had consented to follow the band on their next tour if she could manage to get time off from her TV show for a couple of months. Eva wondered a bit at the restlessness in her friend, but at the same time she understood that Janet maybe didn't want her man to go away for such a long time without her. After all, who knew what temptations he might meet on the road? Janet wouldn't want to find out. Yes, Eva understood, but she didn't discuss it with her friend. Life on tour seemed to agree with Janet. She became known for her very good work among the pros in the trade, and before Janet knew it, she was the one in demand and not her fiancé. This proved to be a source of tension, which their relationship didn't hold for in the end, and eventually they drifted apart. Eva got the details by and by as they dropped in through mails and telephone calls. In the meantime, Janet was a rising star in her line of business. Then, one day, their lives converged again in a fatal way. It was this development Eva wanted to discuss with Granny. "You see Granny," Eva began, "Janet called me the other day and had a proposition for me. And I don't know if I should take the job or not." "Janet, yes," Granny mused absent-mindedly, keeping her eyes on the road. "How is she these days? As busy as ever?" Eva didn't answer directly, but continued her story. "Janet has really been eating life with a silver spoon! She got this terrific offer and should have been on her way to her life's adventure. You see, I heard that she was going to join the world tour of Julian Woolfe!!" "Who?" "But Granny!!!" Eva was really exasperated now. "Of course you must have heard about Julian Woolfe! He is a superstar from Britain and he's been at top billing for the last couple of years by now. "Eva dear," Granny broke her off with her most infuriating innocence. "I haven't the slightest notion whom you are talking about. You must know that I only listen to the radio in the evenings and then only to the local news..." Her voice trailed off as Eva started to laugh. "Granny, my sweet, lovely Granny, don't pretend innocence! Ever since I helped you tidy up your drawers, years ago, I know that you keep newspaper clippings from your faves at the time. So if I say that Julian Woolfe today is what your Mario Lanza and Enrico Caruso were at the time. Then you might get it." "Hum!" Granny muttered. "But Mario Lanza never went on a tour!" "No, that's right because it wasn't done that way in those days. It was almost enough to show up outside Grauman's Chinese Theater in Los Angeles. But today, it's vital to reach the fans in person, all of them. So all of these super artists are going around the world almost endlessly. Look at Bob Dylan! Do you think he'll ever stop now?" "Hum!" Granny said again because Bob Dylan was at least known to her. "Well, so Janet was to go on tour," Granny continued. "Is that what you are telling me? And you use past tense. So what happened?" "She called me last Sunday from the hospital in Nashville, which is still her base you know, and said that she had been operated on! She broke her right leg in no less than three places when she slipped on the wet tiles by the pool in her gym and fell onto the stairs leading down to the water. She was rushed to surgery, and it was successful she told me. But she'll be out of action for the rest of the year. Of course, the only thing that's important to me is that Janet can walk again. I'm so sad for her. But then she started to talk about this situation and the work she had been offered with Woolfe. She told me that she had already been in contact with Maryka Vollerhofen, who is Julian Woolfe's personal assistant and the one with all the decisions in her hand, and Janet recommended that they sign me up instead. I was told to expect a telephone call from this Miss Vollerhofen the very next day." "And she called too. She sounded very formal on the phone I must say. And I guess that I was a bit colored by all the stories I've heard of her. Being the tiger and bully that everyone has to pass before gaining access to Julian's person, and how she guards him with her life. Maybe half of it is true, and the rest is the usual crap, but one fact remains: any person who is to work closely with Julian Woolfe must be approved by her." "I tried to sound casual and interested at the same time, and I told her that I needed around two days to find out if I could manage to get out of my present obligations so I could join. She said she understood that I needed some time to make arrangements, but more than two days she couldn't wait. And Granny, this was yesterday. So I have to give her an answer tomorrow. And if I accept, I will fly to Fort Lauderdale the day after. So you see! I might not be able to stay the weekend after all. But I so need to talk this over with you. Please don't answer now. Let's talk seriously about it later on, after dinner." And Eva fell silent. Granny patted her arm softly and conveyed all the comfort that Eva always needed. Granny didn't have to tell her that all would be well in the end. Eva would never doubt that in Granny's presence. She had a fear though in her heart because she didn't know for how long Granny would still remain a vital presence in her life. "I've cooked your favorite chicken supreme for dinner," Granny ventured instead of launching into any reflections on Eva's tale. "We'll eat as soon as you've freshened up." And they spent the rest of the journey in silence. ********** It was a lovely dinner and, as usual in Granny's place, a rather lively affair. One would think that she lived a quiet and almost lonely life out there on the plains, but nothing could be farther from the truth. Although Granny was a widow from before Eva ever came to live with her, her house had always been full of people. Three farmhands had always been present on the estate and one of them was now married and had a small family to support. His wife helped Granny in the kitchen, and the children filled the house, the stables and the barns with life and laughter, and Eva guessed that they regarded Granny the way she had done herself already from the start, as a pillar of strength and an endless source of real goodness, care and love. Left alone with Granny in the spacious living room, Eva lit a fire in the big fireplace and went to fetch the coffee. "Granny, here's the thing . . . " Eva called from the kitchen. "Miss Vollerhofen told me that if I accepted the offer I would have to join the full tour. There would be no breaking off and leaving in the middle. And she also told me that however sorry she felt for Janet under the circumstances, she didn't consider Janet an option any longer. Again, if Janet couldn't be available for the whole period, she was out of the game. And I don't know if Janet is aware of this. I guess so. She's been in this trade for a while, and I think she knows the rules. But still, I'm so split and torn by this fact! I feel as if I'm stealing her job and her position. What shall I do, Granny? Please tell me what to do." "My sweet," Granny said, "the most important part is one you haven't touched on yet, have you? I mean, what about your present work? You have a job to go to every day -- well, almost. I know, since you work nights, you get a couple of extra days off in between. But you must have taken into consideration that if you jump on this bandwagon you'll have to quit." Granny's face had now taken on a serious expression. Eva hid her face in her hands. "Yes," she whispered, "I have been thinking of that. I know that if I decide to commit myself to this tour I have to quit my present job. First of all, I can take some vacation time of course. You know as well as I do that I haven't had a proper break for two years now, so I've accumulated some days. But I'm not gonna lie to my boss. I can't lie about anything, not even a white lie. I'll ask for my vacation days, and if they want to know the reason why, then I'll tell them. And if they want to sack me then, fair enough. From my own point of view, I'm sure that I'll know within a week if I'll stay on the tour or not." Granny shook her head a bit, and now she looked sad. "Eva, my little girl, you have no idea of how much of both your mother and father that I see in you at this very moment. The same urge to do what one has to do. And I guess I won't be able to stop you, as little as I managed to stop them; the only consolation being that your quest at least contains elements of reasoning and substance. And perhaps you will make a success out of it. As for your friend Janet, you must know deep down inside that she wouldn't even have mentioned you to these people had she felt jealousy towards you for taking her place. No, as far as I can gather, she is really giving you a precious gift, an opportunity that would never have come your way otherwise. And if you are only thinking of her, the choice must be an easy one." The All or Nothing Game Eva slid to the floor and buried her head in Granny's lap and as Granny gently caressed her head they were both silent for a while. "I'll go then!" Eva looked up, almost defiantly, and they hugged again for a long time. "You'll have to teach me how to keep track of you, that Internet thing, you know . . . " Granny said after a while, and Eva cried and laughed at the same time. ********** That is how Eva came to stand in front of the meticulously groomed and flawless beauty of the woman called Maryka Vollerhofen. They were in a room in one of the larger hotels in Fort Lauderdale, and Eva kept looking over the head of the other woman at the milling life among all the slick yachts in the harbor outside the window. They had just signed the contracts and were now engaged in a conversation, which was meant to be leisurely and relaxed. "You must call me Maryka," the woman insisted. "No one uses surnames here you know." And she smiled; a smile that never reached her eyes. Eva understood that this was not just pleasantries. It indicated what tone Maryka expected the present setup to have. It also indicated how Eva was to meet Julian Woolfe himself eventually although that was never said in so many words. Eva was not unfamiliar with Maryka's career if one could call it that. Being of Dutch descent, she had met Julian in England when his career was on the rise. She had since then been working close to him for almost all the time he had hit it big. There were rumors telling of a brief affair many years ago, and - if that was true - it said something about the woman, who stayed on after it was ended to manage the career of her ex-lover. Rumors also had it that she was worse than any bodyguard when it came to shielding her charge from "unwanted" attention. The fact remained however that Julian accepted having her around and depended deeply on her to take care of all the practical details in his life. Thus, Eva concluded in her mind, it was indeed vital to be on good terms with this lady. "Let's go and see if we can find Julian so that you can be introduced and he can let you know how he wants you to work with the upcoming shows." Maryka rose, ending the conversation. They went along the corridor on a carpet that was so thick and luxurious that their feet made no sound. It was an almost eerie feeling, and for a little while Eva felt as if she was wrapped in an unreal dream. But she was soon to be recalled to the present. Outside a door further down there were two men positioned, one sitting down and the other standing up. Eva realized that they must be Julian's bodyguards. And at that moment it sort of hit home for the first time that she had moved into another world. Her own life seemed very far away all of a sudden. Maryka said something to one of the guards in a low voice; he opened the door and led them into a small hall with yet another door, which hopefully led to the part of the building Julian occupied. Eva didn't know that such hotel suites even existed. Maryka knocked on the inner door, and Eva heard a voice answer on the other side. Then she was unceremoniously ushered into the presence of the man himself. Julian Woolfe certainly didn't look like a superstar at the very first glance. He lounged, rather carelessly dressed, in front of the TV and had apparently been watching one of the numerous talk shows, which ran uninterrupted on the TV channels in the hotel. He put down his teacup and rose when they entered. At first he looked briefly at Maryka and then he concentrated his gaze on Eva. And he smiled - that wolfish grin Eva knew from so many photos. She took in all of her impressions in one breath: that he wasn't as young as his photos wanted to convey, that he had small lines in his face, which made it more interesting than those buffed and retouched plastic versions of him, which were spread everywhere around town for the moment, that he had extraordinarily beautiful features with high cheekbones, a prominent sharp nose, a full and sensitive mouth and above all those mesmerizing almost steely eyes, which seemed to penetrate her now. "Julian dear," Maryka murmured behind her. "This is Eva Sanderson, who has so graciously accepted helping us out now that Janet Birkman isn't available any longer." Julian raised his eyebrows and extended his hand for a greeting. When she took it, she felt that it was warm and strong. "Where do you come from?" was his first and rather unconventional question. Eva was taken aback and felt confused all of a sudden. "South Dakota," she answered and could have bitten her tongue when realizing that New York would have sounded so much better under the circumstances. His grin widened, and he started to walk around her. Eva's discomfort and uncertainty rose with each step he took. What kind of survey was this? Would she have to accept to be subject to it? She heard him click his tongue twice in small, almost inaudible, appreciative noises. "Wow," he laughed, "I had no idea of that so much style and elegance could come out of that place." Eva couldn't prevent an awful blush from traveling to her throat and cheeks. And anger came too. "You evidently haven't been there, I can tell . . . Sir," she added in a measured tone before she even had time to think of what she answered. And at the same time she experienced seeing what he saw. A slender, almost delicate woman with fair skin and just a hint of freckles, long auburn hair, loosely tied in a careless knot at the nape of her neck, soft full lips, prominent eyebrows giving character to her face and liquid violet-blue eyes. His appreciation was evident and he also seemed amused by her talking back. "No offense, no offense!" he touched her shoulder lightly. "And by the way, if you 'Sir' me one more time, you'll be out of here before you even have time to say 'I'm sorry.' I'm Julian and you are?" "Eva!" she said taking his hand, which he offered again as if signing a peace contract. She felt that the awful moment had passed. She was approved of and now she could laugh too. Maryka made a small cough behind them and brought them back to the present. "Julian," she said, "what time do you want Eva to turn up before the show? Since this is the first time, you may want her to come a bit earlier perhaps?" "Yes I'd say," he replied, and the laughter left his face to give room to the professional. He turned again to Eva. "I will be on stage at around ten in the evening so it'll be fine if you could turn up at half past eight. Better let someone show you the premises. You've been backstage on a set like this before?" The last bit was a question. Eva shook her head and Maryka intervened. "Don't worry Julian; I'll take care of this. Eight thirty this evening she'll be in your dressing room." When the two women left the room, after having said their good-byes, Eva reflected on Maryka again. She wondered to herself how many times Maryka had said those words: "Don't worry Julian." There must have been countless needs for it. ********** Maryka asked one of the young roadies, Martin, to take Eva around the stage -- both back and front. Eva was really in awe of its construction, rising high above her head like a complex skeleton of steel. Hundreds of workers were crawling around it to get the lines, wires, electricity, light and sound in order for tonight's concert. The sound check had already begun, and Eva could see that the musicians in the band were milling about the stage, testing their equipment. "Let's take a moment to meet the band," Martin ventured. "They could do with a break." So together they climbed the stage. Eva had read countless articles about them and had heard them play too, partly on audio recordings and partly from live sessions on TV. It would, of course, be a totally different thing to hear them live. It was a thoroughly international band Julian had put together when he started touring again some years ago. But however disparate they seemed as personalities when they entered the stage they became a tight-knit unit. Steven Macintosh from Philadelphia was one of the two guitarists -- the hot and trashy one according to Julian. Steven had become the spokesman for the group, more or less self-appointed. The others didn't seem to mind but were rather happy to let anyone with his verve deal with all the practical details. The second guitarist was Klaus Schiller from Berlin - the poetic one as Julian had once described him. When let loose -- and he often was -- he would climb heights with his instrument, lost to the world. The bass was played by a phenomenon in the music world, Daren Ndolo, who originally came from Nigeria but had been living in San Francisco for years. Daren was a natural on rhythms. He could pick up the most intricate one imagined and get it into his fingers and body within a take, never to forget it again. It was as if it was built into him, and he was a source of endless fascination for Julian. Daren was the solid rock the band was leaning on; with him present, getting the perfect beat from the start, everyone felt safe on stage. Cooperating closely with Daren to complete the exquisite rhythm section, which was the trademark of Julian's present band, was the drummer Bo Lassiter from Jamaica. And lastly to enhance and put that shimmering touch to the music was Rupert Hain on synth. Rupert was from Manchester in England and had worked closely with Julian since the beginning of his career. He knew exactly what Julian wanted and not many words were wasted on explanations or intentions between the two of them. Steven was approaching and met them halfway. He looked with curiosity and apprehension at Eva and broke into a little improvised welcome speech when Martin introduced her. Steven brought her to the band. "Eva now?" Klaus said with his slight German accent as he focused his soft, almost sad eyes on her. "Well, as long as I don't see an Adam in tow, I'm confident that this is gonna be swell." Eva flashed a smile towards him and turned to Daren, marveling over the almost statuesque musician in front of her. He would make an excellent model for her to paint! Daren seemed to feel her appreciation because he flexed his well-trained body a bit extra for her to the great amusement of the others. The elegant Rupert Hain bowed ceremoniously over her hand and pretended to blow a kiss on it, and Bo Lassiter drummed up a small fanfare on his instrument. "Well guys," Eva called out to them as she was on her way off the stage with Martin, who was already backstage, "I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you -- and I don't mind that at all!" She lifted a hand in the air, made the V-sign and was greeted with appreciative whistles and a cacophony of instrumental noise. Eva realized soon enough, when entering the backstage area, that it was a good idea to get some knowledge of the place in advance because without any guide she would soon be lost. Martin pointed out all the different stairs and doors and explained to what area they belonged and led to. Eva asked him to concentrate on how to find her way to Julian's dressing room in the fastest manner because that was to be the only essential thing for her to know in the beginning. She would have an hour and a half with Julian during this first session before the show, and she would have to be at hand when he went off stage for a break, helping him to touch up his makeup and hair if needed. The rest of the maze, which made up the backstage, she would have to learn about later. Martin agreed with her and showed her in detail how to get to Julian's room in the best and quickest manner if she came from outside. There were security checks, which she would have to be prepared for, several of them, and she must always be sure to wear her pass card fully exposed at all times. He clicked his tongue in admiration when she showed him her new one. "AAA" was printed on it, which was short for Access All Areas, meaning that she belonged to the few individuals on the premises, who had full access to Julian's person. As they talked and walked around the stage the sun started to set, and the place was soon to be filled with an audience full of anticipation. A loudspeaker boomed over the arena, announcing that it was time to leave the front of the house, and Eva thanked Martin for the guided tour as everyone started to withdraw backstage or leave the venue to come back later. "If you want to," Martin said and looked shyly at her from the corner of his eye, "I can show you a marvelous spot to watch the gig from. I mean, you don't have to sit around in the dressing room all night, do you?" Eva raised her eyebrows and smiled in pleasant surprise. "Oh! How nice of you. Can it be done? And we won't be in anyone's way? And can I quickly get back to Julian's place when I need to?" Martin laughed at all her eager questions. "No prob at all. When you're done with all that makeup stuff and he's on his way out here, I'll be waiting for you behind that big loudspeaker and from there I'll show you where to go. Okay?" "Okay! Yes! Thank you." They parted company because Eva wanted to get a bite to eat before the evening started. She hadn't eaten all day and all of a sudden she realized that she felt famished. ********** It was nearly eight thirty in the evening when Eva returned to the arena. The atmosphere was now totally different from what it had been earlier during the day. Now it was charged with electricity, a seething pot of anticipation and common yearning. The band, which was to introduce Julian, was already at work, and Eva felt the whole stage vibrate with sound. She hastened towards Julian's dressing room and had to pass three security-checks before she found herself in the area where it was situated. She knocked briefly and entered without waiting for an answer. After all, they had made an appointment for this exact time. And he was waiting for her. They greeted each other, and Eva put her small suitcase down on the floor. She felt nervous, she had to admit that, but she also knew that as soon as she started to work, she would snap out of that feeling. He looked her over quietly and expectantly. "First of all," she said, "I want to know if there is something in particular, which you wish me to concentrate on?" "Nope," he smiled teasingly, "I'll leave it all to you tonight. Let's see what the result is like when you've finished." So, he was going to challenge her? Well, he could try! "All right," she smiled, "fair enough. What will you wear tonight?" He pointed at the costume displayed on a hanger in the room. It was a bright yellow jacket and equally bright yellow and white striped trousers. "I see," she said, "yellow is not an easy color, but we'll manage that too." Then she moved around him to get in front of him, between him and the mirror so that she could look directly at his face and hair. And all of a sudden her gaze was a different one; now she looked at him in a totally professional way. It was as if he sensed this because he relaxed in the chair and extended his long legs on either side of her. She took care to look at all the details this time, the flaws and the features which needed enhancing. She moved around him and swept a big towel around his chest and shoulders and then she put her fingers into his hair -- the first time ever that she touched him in anything but a formal way. Then she let her supple fingers slip along his scalp, massaging his head slowly and steadily. He wasn't prepared for this, but reacted as everyone had done before him when treated to her initial massage. "Mmmmmm . . . " he murmured involuntarily and let his head fall back against the rest. "Good," she encouraged. "That's what it's for, to relax. That's the best thing before any session. It brings the blood into circulation and unwinds all the tension. Even if we only have an hour to do your makeup in the future, I'll always start off with a quick massage." She could see a look which almost looked like regret in his face when she stopped, but he made no comments about it. Instead, she quickly started trying out a base color for covering his face, both with his own skin in mind and with an eye on what he would wear. She worked with speed but not in haste as she kept looking at his face, but she didn't see Julian; she saw a face to build up and paint. All the while he had his eyes fastened on her with enormous concentration, but he didn't try to meet her eyes. She accentuated his prominent cheekbones and sensitive nostrils and applied a daring eye makeup for him. She outlined his lips before painting them, and she could see them quiver slightly when she drew the line around them with her soft pencil. She had a very special mascara, which she wanted to try on him. She was quite aware of that he often displayed his androgyny and wanted to stress this feature a bit more. The innuendo between his looks and his actions would not be lost on his fans; she was sure of that. She drew back and surveyed the result. Not bad. He looked like the alluring wolf she wanted to convey to the audience. Lastly, she turned to his hair. It wasn't common that makeup artists did hair too, but that was one of the special features in her training and maybe why she had landed this job in the first place. She sculpted his hair and yet made it look as if he had casually drawn his fingers through it. It must look natural, she thought. Before finishing off, she asked him to cover his face with his hands while she applied the hairspray and then she was done with him. She moved behind him and asked him to take a look. And now their eyes met in the mirror. He nodded slowly. "Mmm, I like it! Good. What have you done to my hair? It looks different?" "It's a special spray to be used in spotlight. It brings out the color of the hair and lets it shine with a light of its own. Up there on stage you'll look almost translucent, generating your own light. It mustn't be too much, just a touch of it, you know." "I have one reservation," she added. "I haven't been able to see what these colors on your face will look like in the spotlights, and I won't know until I see you out there," she smiled. "You'll watch the show?" "Yes!" There was no idea lying about that fact. "From the wings." "Where will you be standing?" "Oh, I don't really know exactly where. I'll have someone to show me how to get there, but I promise you that I won't be in anyone's way, and I'll be here when you need me again." "Oh, that's all right. I think it's a good idea that you should watch the show. You'll know the basics then, so to speak, and I'd recommend that in the future. Very good idea." "By the way," he added lightly after the briefest of hesitations, "who's going to show you where to stand?" "A guy called Martin, one of the roadies I think," she answered, still intent on not making the truth fancier than it was. "I see," he added after a brief pause and evidently the matter was closed for him. He rose from the chair and flung the towel and also the dressing gown he had been wearing aside, only to reveal that he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath. He had a body like a Greek god, all smooth and shiny, muscles rippling beneath his flawless skin in a measured way. Eva took a step back and couldn't help widening her eyes at the sight of him. She didn't want to show him that she had reacted, but now it was too late. And she also observed that he had noted it from the corner of his eye. She collected herself quickly though. "Well, I'm done with you! I guess you want to let the dresser in. I'll see you before the encore." He moved and faced her directly, focusing his deadly charm on her; the one he otherwise usually sent out over an audience of 40,000 spectators. "Enjoy yourself! See you later, Eva." She felt as if she'd been hit by an invisible thing when she heard him use her name. It was personal in a way that hadn't been necessary. But she smiled widely. The All or Nothing Game "Yes! I will! I'm sure of it." And then she hastily left the room before anything else could be said. ********** The general feeling backstage was one of elation. Everyone seemed charged to the maximum. Eva found Martin fidgeting at their meeting place and he seemed anxious about getting on the move. "I thought you wouldn't turn up," he breathed as if it was necessary to keep the conversation clandestine. "Look, I want to show you something before we go to the stage." He took her by the hand and brought her over to a big announcement board near the stairs, which led to the dressing rooms. It was a plastic board where the written messages could be erased and replaced by new ones, just like in school, but not quite as big. "Here," he said, "you can always see what's going on for the night. All 'surprises' are listed here because to us they mustn't be surprises. You can see exactly where they are planning to take the break and what numbers they'll do in the encore and so on. And if there are any guest artists, their names will show up here too. He usually does 'Standing Alone' before the break, preceded by 'Slaughterhouse.' But this way you'll never have to guess and be in doubt, you can always plan your evening." "Thank you!" Eva laughed. "My self-appointed guardian angel!" she added teasingly as he tried in vain to hide his blushing. But soon they had other things to think about. A giant roar from the audience on the other side advised them of that Julian must have entered the stage at last. So as not to miss anything, they hurried up onto the elevated platform and hid from view behind a giant spotlight unit. Eva looked out in total exhilaration over the billowing mass of human bodies, which seemed to move forward as one entity when Julian strode out on the stage. From where she was standing - she was at the extreme left of the stage -- she could also see one of the giant screens clearly. This was going to be a good position to view it all from. ********** The concert lasted two hours in all. To Eva it could have gone on forever. Her own crucial moment came when she had to be back in Julian's dressing room just before the encore. It was a funny feeling being in the room alone, waiting for him, but she could follow the action on stage even there. A small monitor on the wall was broadcasting the show to his quarters so that he was constantly updated on what was going on up there on the stage. While waiting, she heated the damp towels she had brought along and took out some powder to use to take the shine away from his face. There wasn't going to be time to redo anything, only to repair and freshen up. She saw that the dresser had put out a new T-shirt for him to change into. It was evilly green and would stand out, no doubt, on stage. She contemplated the almost aggressive note he had chosen for this particular evening and wondered if it changed or if this was the "mood" of the present tour. But soon enough there was no more time to think and reflect as she saw "Standing Alone" drawing to its close, which meant that they would soon be down here, all of them. The band also had their dressing rooms nearby but not directly linked to Julian's. Clamor and footsteps told her that they were on their way. The security guard threw the door open, and Julian came into the room with a rush, instantly bringing it to life with his presence. He greeted her briefly, but seemed occupied in a way that didn't invite conversation. He stripped his wet jacket off, and she handed him a damp, warm towel to wipe his body with. His semi-nakedness didn't bother her this time because she knew what to expect. He pulled the fresh T-shirt over his head and slumped into the chair in front of the mirror. She looked closely at his face, scrutinizing him, and went about retouching it here and there, finishing it off with a thin film of powder just to get a fresh look back again. Then she brushed his hair and set it with another cloud of hairspray. He looked ready to go on stage again, but wasn't evidently prepared for it quite yet. He lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke greedily. Still, they hadn't uttered a word to each other; which was fine with Eva. She wasn't here to chat, she was here to work, and if he wasn't in the mood to talk then it wasn't for her to initiate a conversation. She went about packing her things together and was almost ready to go when she heard him clear his throat behind her. "Having a good time?" he asked "Yes!" She nodded and smiled at the same time. "It's . . . totally fabulous." She didn't know what more to say. But he was already on his way out of the room, flashing a quick smile in her direction. When he had gone, she hurried back to Martin, who was still positioned on the platform and they enjoyed the encore together. When it was all over and the lights had gone down, it was as if reality emerged again from the transformation the concert had created. Everyone was still elated and laughter and shouting filled the air. "Come on," Martin urged her. "Let's go out with the others for a beer or something." Eva hesitated; she was so tired by now that she was almost shaking. This day seemed to harbor the happenings of four, and all she really wished for was to flatten out in bed. "Oh please, come on. It's sleeping-in time tomorrow. We're off to New Orleans then, but not until the afternoon," Martin pleaded and at last she gave in, thinking too of the impression she wanted to make on her new friends. They might think that it was impolite and supercilious of her not to show up for her first after-show party. So she left the venue with Martin to join others from the crew and the band, who were now waiting outside the gates. She wasn't at all prepared for the great commotion going on out there. Several TV crews had turned up with their heavy equipment, trying to catch a glimpse of Julian for an interview. She could see him standing beside the car, which was to bring him back to his hotel. She could also see that he was in the company of Maryka. The bodyguards moved about restlessly, and behind the fence, on the other side of the street, the fans tried to claw their way up towards the best position for taking photos and perhaps to get an autograph if the object of their attention deigned to consider that. But Julian ducked into the black limousine as soon as he was ready and in a flash the car was gone. "We've heard of a great place with Mexican food and cold beer here in Lauderdale," she heard a voice say behind her. When she turned around, Klaus and Steven were grinning at her. She laughed and nudged Martin. "Let's go then," she called out, and together they hailed a couple of taxis and were soon off into the velvety dark Florida night. To be honest, Eva didn't remember much of the night. When she finally got back into her hotel room -- situated in a much more modest environment than the luxury palace Julian shared with Maryka -- she only heard a humming noise in her head, a grand mixture of laughter, conversation and late-night jamming, which the band had treated the little restaurant to. It had been so great. She was happy that she had decided to join in but also hoped that she had been coherent and not made a fool of herself. Klaus had said something about drowning in her violet eyes, and Martin had raised his voice a bit, but other than that Eva was quite convinced of that she had been accepted as part of this setup, this almost living entity, made out of all the individuals, who worked in a giant effort on a night like this for a common goal: to make this fairy story come true for the baying crowd, who would live with the memory of the incredible show for years to come. ********** The weeks that followed were strange, hard, hilarious and unreal. Eva realized soon that she still had a lot to learn about this surrounding, her new universe. There were a lot of unwritten rules to take into account. She couldn't address Daren, who was married, in the same way as Steven or Klaus, with whom she could flirt at her leisure. Rupert Hain was unreadable, not unlike Julian even, and she took care to be sophisticated and elegant in his presence. Bo was the hardest to reach. She had an inkling that he was on some stuff or other because he wasn't present. However, this was one of those things, which wasn't discussed. Bo did what was asked of him on stage and with brilliance too, and as long as he did that, Steven said nothing about it, especially not to Julian. Martin had of course fallen in love with her; she knew that without asking. He kept "bumping" into her at all the odd hours, asked her out, proposed plans for them and jealously guarded the platform where they still kept watching the shows together. Eva was very fond of Martin, but she took great care not to involve herself personally with anyone. Life here was complicated enough. She found out too that she wasn't alone in experiencing that rehearsing/working in the presence of Maryka was something to endure rather than to look forward to. Eva couldn't really put her finger on the unease that the woman caused when she entered a room. And she often did so unannounced. Eva hoped though that her discomfort in the presence of the other woman didn't show as she really went out of her way to be pleasant and forthcoming. Above all Eva realized that she had a lot to learn about Julian. She was soon made aware that "change" was the key word here. No show was like another, and this created both tension and elation in the set. And the fans were made to sweat, especially in a place where Julian performed more than once. Since no one would know what the theme would be for the two or three nights in question, it was imperative to get tickets for all of them. It put a demand on Eva too. Should she prepare for a hot and sexy night like the one in Fort Lauderdale or was it going to be one in a subdued, almost sad mood or yet again was it to be a romantic, sweet night? The show in New Orleans, for example, definitely fell into that category. He had chosen to dress in a shirt with lace and smart black pants and kept wooing his audience with long chats, acted out from the front of the stage, where he sat, legs dangling and talked intimately to the ones in the front row, who were snake-charmed by him to the point of oblivion. In the break after the main show and before the encore that night he entered the dressing room happily humming a nursery rhyme. "Lapping it up, lapping it up," he crooned while she arranged his hair and put a spot of rouge on his cheeks. She learned to bring along all her supplies. There was no relying on whether a chosen idea would be operable the next night. It was as if Julian delighted in teasing them all to stand in attention to his next whim. She could almost picture him there in his hotel room at night, planning mischievously for the next show. Eva thought that she would grow tired of watching the concerts, but the opposite happened: the more she watched, the more interested, excited and exhilarated she got. She realized that he changed his presentation of a song to suit his present mood. Thus, "Slaughterhouse" could be incredibly sexy and as explicit as when she first viewed and heard it, but also viciously cold and evil on other nights. "Finding You" could sound a bit sad and sweet, but could also be done as a mournful ballad. "Rosary Mornings" was at times delicate and weird -- with Klaus going through the roof on his guitar and Rupert painting the background in cloudy silver -- and on other occasions it came forth as oddly sinister. Eva never stopped marveling over how Julian brought out different aspects of the song for each mood he chose to interpret it in. Seeing so much of him as she really did also gave her a perspective on the man himself, which she hadn't had before. She began to realize what a true artist he was and what a thoroughly genuine professional. He never missed out on what could be gained from a particular situation or an impromptu happening; he took it all in his stride. But his extraordinary instinct in this field also prompted him to demand the utmost of his collaborators. He wanted them to be not more than one step behind. For Eva this meant that she had to sound him off each time she met him, not knowing "who" would be there to meet. And she lived in a perpetual emotional field of high voltage. There were nights when he was accessible and interested in what she was doing, asking endless questions both about her person and her work. He made her laugh and he put her off at the same time. Sometimes she got angry with him for using this kind of switch in his approach to her. She didn't want any kind of relationship to him other than professional. But he tried treacherously and constantly to find the crack in her armor and make her lose her balance. Eva wondered why he felt compelled to do so, but of course she didn't ask; that would have been admitting that she had an interest in him beyond her work. Sometimes it also happened that he was in a terrible or difficult mood. And then Eva had to use all her skill, instinct and persuasion to save the situation. She had around an hour to make him ready for stage, literally; and at times that meant in mind too. She worked on him in silence, looking at his stern face and clenched mouth, and she took care to prolong the initial scalp massage on such nights and that often did the trick. As if the touch of her hands in this soothing way was the only remedy for whatever ate him up from the inside. And more than once she was rewarded in seeing how he relaxed and how his face cleared before her eyes. She could venture to start some small talk then, to ease up the situation further. Otherwise, she always let him decide whether they should talk or not. But sometimes his mood seemed beyond repair, so to speak, and then the inevitable moment happened. One that couldn't have been anticipated. One night -- they were playing ST Louis in Missouri, slowly working their way over the continent towards the West Coast -- when Eva was on her way to the dressing room area, she heard loud, angry voices from the stairs, and when she entered the corridor she saw them all out there, shouting at each other at the same time, Julian, the musicians and Maryka in the background, trying in vain to pour oil on the troubled waters. "I don't want to do this shit tonight! I didn't put the list together like this . . . " "So what do you want to play tonight then? You have to tell us! There's only an hour to go, I need to have some inkling . . . " "Come on everyone, there must have been a slight mistake, we must be able to come to an understanding, please let us be sensible . . . " Again, that last sentence was from Maryka, who was trying to calm everyone down. Eva remained standing at the entrance in silence, waiting for the outcome, the minutes ticking by. Finally, they all moved upstairs to the big board, where tonight's set-list was posted, and Julian started in fury to erase songs and put up other choices instead. Steven made equally furious notes on a piece of paper. The air was charged with electricity to the point where one could almost smell it. After a while, Julian was finally done. He threw the pen down on a nearby table and went downstairs to his room. Eva followed him hesitantly. Well inside, he went up to the mirror, his back towards her. She put her things down and went for the towel. "I don't want any head massage today," he said through clenched teeth. As if he couldn't bear to be touched. "Okay," she answered, "fair enough. Could you please sit down in front of the mirror?" He turned around and faced her, anger still visible in his face. "What does it take to make you crack? You're like a porcelain doll or something?!" "Why would you want me to crack up? What purpose on earth would that serve?" And for the first time there was a hint of passion in her voice too. He smiled then for the first time during the troubled night as if he had gained a point, looking like a street urchin, who had managed to snatch a wallet from a passing target. He slumped into the chair, and she moved in front of him, up between his legs to come close to his face, but before she had time to apply the foundation she had on her fingers already, he caught her hand in midair in a tight and close grip. She reacted instinctively, trying to withdraw, but he flexed the muscles in his thighs, trapping her that way too. Eva felt her heart start to beat violently. "Let me go!" she whispered, still calm. "You're a dangerous one," he replied, savoring the words with relish, smiling now almost softly, with gleaming, steely eyes. "I thought that danger spelt J-U-L-I-A-N," she retorted and felt him relax as he let go of her. "Now, will you please sit still until I'm finished, or you will be very late for your entrance." He snickered smugly, closed his eyes and let her begin with her work without any further interruptions. The show that followed was something out of this world. It was as if the charge of the conflict had transformed itself into energy, which everyone brought onto the stage. The audience seemed to feel it too. The response was massive. Half way into the second hour, Julian all of a sudden started to strip on stage. He tore off his T-shirt, threw it behind him and moved to the front of the stage under the glaring lights, exposing his bare chest to the crowd below which went absolutely wild. Eva had never seen anything like it. They surged forward in a movement in unison and a roar rose. Eva saw several people faint and carried out of the arena. Julian grabbed a guitar and started on "Pretending To Love You" and the crowd groaned in response. The next number, "Slaughterhouse," was an act of shared intercourse. He thrust his pelvis forward and touched his sex and the audience responded with a deep sigh. When it was time for the break before the encore, Eva waited in the corridor outside the rooms and heard them on their way down, screaming, hollering, laughing, up somewhere so high that she didn't know what was needed to take them down again. The earlier quarrel was forgotten and had been transferred into wild elation. All of a sudden they were all around her and she became confused and caught in the wild sensation, swept away by their feelings. In the middle of it all, she felt Julian grab her hand, not hard or powerfully this time, but with a kind of possessiveness and urgency, which she couldn't resist. He put her hand against his sweat-drenched chest and held it there. "It's swelteringly hot out there tonight -- feel it!" He held her hand against his skin for a fraction of a second too long. She noticed it, but she didn't withdraw this time and saw that he took it in. She also saw from the corner of her eye that Maryka, who was also present, made a note of that moment of eternity. Then he let go of her and they all rushed into their dressing rooms. Eva followed Julian and they went hastily about their business. Not a word was uttered on the incidents of the evening. They worked quickly and efficiently and soon he was out on the stage again -- this time to soothe them all with one of his greatest ballads "Love is Bondage." Eva realized that she couldn't keep from being influenced too as tears filled her eyes when he sang, and she saw many in the audience weep openly. He ended the show with another extremely moving and powerful song, "Let It Come." And the audience didn't want to let go of him, they roared and stamped and shouted until he appeared for one last time and finished off with a magnificent "Standing Alone." Then it was finally over. Eva didn't want to join in with any post-show celebration although everyone tugged at her and tempted her. She was so upset deep down inside that she needed space and time for herself. She wanted to get away from it all. Rushing through the corridors she came face to face with Maryka and met the gaze of the other woman for a short moment. She could see that Maryka looked at her with searching, weary eyes, looking for answers in Eva's face. But Eva hastened on, not wanting to engage in any sort of confrontation and soon she was back at her hotel and fell exhausted on the bed. A while later she was fit enough to go into the shower and let the water wash all the tensions away. Wanting to see if Granny had mailed today, she switched on her laptop and opened the mailbox. Granny hadn't, but another mail popped up, and she saw with great surprise that it was from Julian.