Dead Stars (52 page)

 

Thank you, & I love to keep up with the Kardashians & I love your show & ALL your shows there are so many I have LOST COUNT!!!!!!!!

 

Sincerely,

 

Telma Belle Ballendyne

 

P.S. I have more than enough money saved, I believe my mother has put away for me monies from various sources to the tune of $100,000, I wanted to tell you this so you could tell the doctors that I am not a fly-by-night (which used to be my Dad's favorite phrase or sobriquett) or charity case & can pay them their full fee. Glod Bless.

. . .

The day had exhausted her.

She kept circling back to the taboo, the unspeakable.

In the week that followed the meeting in Century City, it was explained how the mistake had been made, the vague mechanics and diabolically shifting sands of it. (The parts that Gwen was able to understand only made it worse.) The most pressing thing she wanted answered was how long they'd been aware of their mistake. They said that their findings had been confirmed only a week before disclosure; though Gwen had no reason to believe
anything
they said, this she chose to accept
.
Now it was up to the hospital to learn from the incident so it wouldn't happen again—new safeguards and protocols, mandatory seminars for doctors and nurses, required classes for radiologists. The time would come when insurance paid whatever it was going to pay, & everyone moved on, everyone but Gwen. There would be no mob of outraged parents in the streets demanding justice, because Telma wasn't
their
child; not the child of the brilliant, winning, idiosyncratic oncologists; not the child of the superb, bosomy nurses, each at the top of their game, drenched in compassion. The RNs gave Telma
and
Gwen their hearts, and she knew how mortified they would be upon learning of the secret horrors perpetrated on their mascot, their soldier, their—well,
yes
—baby girl.

Telma hadn't been born to
any
of them and they owed her nothing. They went home at night to their families, the children they'd so carefully raised and kept safe from harm. For a long while, Telma didn't come home at all. She roamed the
peed onk
hallways with her dog, spreading good cheer, climbing every mountain, dreaming impossible dreams. She made her nest in that deathstar place, a mutilated pig-tailed Phantom of the Operating rooms, a roving Dora the explorer of strange- and sinister-smelling corridors, of cubbyholes housing exotic, pitiably young inhabitants, each one dying or healing from rarities, each with readymade story & fate, they captivated her because now Telma was one of them, only she was stronger, she was braver, the
New Girl
, brave new girl in a brave new world.

All these years Gwen had grown to believe she was a reasonably tough mom, a worthy adversary for the cause. Only now had she begun to realize how terribly matched she was, not against the disease but the rampaging medical superheroes, each one more confident than the next of the proposed course of action. What a charade! What a fool she was to be exhorting them from her ringside seat!
Why did I embrace the diagnosis so quickly, so deep? How dare I! Would I have just rolled over if they said the same things to
me
? If I got double-teamed by
vultures
who said they needed to cut off my tits & needed to do it
FAST
or I might die? Would I have been so awed? so cowed & resigned? She didn't want to think about this anymore because it was too much, she would have to learn some technique, train herself to permanently deepsix what was too shaming, damning, overwhelming, too suicide-baiting. It made her want to die and that was the one thing she could
not
do, not as long as Telma was alive. There was no use indulging in the repetitive argument, that was a form of madness, searching for balm where there was none, Gwen knew that Phoebe or anyone really would just keep telling her it wasn't
her fault, none of it had been, she was being irrational, that she did what any mother would have (tho she'd always know in her heart that it wasn't true), if you Googled pediatric onc Telma's whole team would be on the very first page, they were world-class, they were unimpeachable, they were legendary. There was no use because after a while you become a bore and people rightfully began to shun you, all you had left was your therapist who now was really nothing more than a paid friend, since therapy had gone by the wayside, there could
be
no therapy for you anymore, you were cooked, you were done, you had graduated, into Hell. She knew people would grow tired of her, and the ones that hadn't run or disappeared completely would practically stage an intervention asking her
begging her
to please think about Zoloft or whatever pill it was that would help during this tough time. (Translation: help
them
by making her less of an insane needy bother.) “This tough time”! After the intervention they'd go home, those repelled soon-to-no-longer-be friends she'd been abusing, home to the kids they guarded even more closely now than before, having had the enlightening experience of coming across the highway accident of Gwen's cautionary tale, moving slowly by in their vehicles, taking in the guttering flares & mangled metal, their children wide-eyed in the backseat, eyes glued to windows, thank God this did not happen to me––––––––well, thought Gwen, at least it isn't like losing a child to a pool drowning, you turn your back & it's over, those marriages never survive because the parent who wasn't home blames the one who was—o thank god Max wasn't alive! for this! Thank god Max never saw them do this to his baby! At least that was
something
to be grateful for. And didn't Eric Clapton's—didn't he fall—from a window––––––––––––––
NO!
NO NO
NO
,
Gwen
HATED
when she started doing that, trafficking in others' grief to benumb herself, hated that more than
ANYTHING
, it made her feel cruel, astringent, monstrous––––––––––––––who
knew
what those same friends & families said in the privacy of their homes . . . there was probably a whole group of them (in reverie, Gwen doubted if they'd even be aware of their same-held opinions because it just wasn't the sort of thing to openly gossip about or exchange notes, a kind of primordial superstition would prevent them from giving voice to what happened at the accursed House of Ballendyne, especially when you had kids of your own, it would be pretty near taboo) who murmured/pillowtalked with their spouses in those intimate moments before sleep, I really don't think I would
EVER
have let that happen to my child, I don't care
WHO
the doctors were, I'd have gone to the ends of the Earth . . . Then the husband might say in that male way, “That woman was asleep at the
FUCKING WHEEL
. There is just
NO WAY—
” or maybe if he was the husband of one of her dwindling circle of BFFs, maybe for a minute the BFF would rally to Gwen's defense and say “Hey c'mon now hon that isn't fair” but the retort would be limply politic because in actuality she would agree with him but couldn't let on, so she mounted a little technical defense of Gwen, her BFF-to-soon-no-longer-be, because as a mom & still-technical-BFF it was just the karmically correct thing to do. Yet the wife's minuscule effort would do nothing to obscure the fact that both instinctively knew in their secret husband-wife/mom-dad language (their twins, Telma's age, asleep two walls away) that “Hey c'mon now hon that isn't fair” translated to “Of course she was asleep at the fucking wheel, she's no different than one of those moms who drown their kids in the tub, she's
NUTS,
I just can't say that about my friend because I'm superstitious about bringing energy to it, about something then happening to our own kids,” all of that unspoken, or spoken, but in code, it would be so obvious, the wife's affirmation of a truth told that she shared but dare not express, also not a rebuke to hubby but a way to say let's hush now and go to sleep, let's not call the wrath of anyone's god, & the husband would cease his banter, he'd shot his macho family-protecting Papa Bear wad, her signal that it's time to spoon, he'd hold her from behind in solidarity & gratitude that it didn't happen to
them,
to
their
family, holding her in quiet holy gratitude and respect for her loyalty & commendable discretion, that's just how a great wife and stand-up friend's
supposed
to act, & they'd fall asleep like that spooning, husb and wife and unmauled children, whereas Gwen would toss and turn, husbandless, with her deformed Tel———

. . .

She xanaxscrolled through the
CHANNEL MENU GUIDE
: news, news, infomercial,
Cheers
in Spanish, sports sports sports,
House
, Kardashian, Kardashian,
Hell's Kitchen
. Some anchorperson was offering tips on how to explain political assassination to your kids. Julian Assange was hosting
SNL
—no. Can it be?
Maybe that's Bill Maher. But why would Bill Maher be hosting SNL?

She scrolled down, down, down . . .

Michael Douglas and Laurence Fishburne were on Jimmy Kimmel. Everyone was in high antic spirits. Everyone was laughing, everyone was rich, everyone was cancer-free. Jimmy Kimmel kept saying let's talk about your movie, why don't you want to talk about your movie, & Michael said I don't want to talk about it, ain't even a
movie
yet, we're still shooting. Jimmy Kimmel said something & Gwen missed it & Michael's response was
Don't be an asshole,
they bleeped out
asshole
, & Laurence Fishburne was laughing so hard (he hadn't said anything the whole time, he just laughed) that Gwen thought he looked stoned off his gourd. The audience was having a blast, they already loved Michael because of his cancer victory, his comic humility about it, his elegant courageousness, the model of how everyone dreamed they'd handle their
own
diagnosis, they loved that he didn't drop by the show to sell something. Gwen caught herself thinking,
Wouldn't it be funny if Michael didn't have cancer too? That would be so nice for Telma, to have a friend that went through the same thing
then stopped herself. Trafficking again . . .

Jimmy Kimmel got serious & said he understood that Michael had brought along a very special friend who was backstage. Michael said that's right, she's in the wings. He said he was hosting a fundraiser at the end of the week, the Courage Ball, they raise money every year for kids with cancer, & his friend was going to be the guest of honor.
She's got a helluva voice too but she's not gunna sing tonight, not for the kind of money you people offer.
She came all the way from Canada to be here. Jimmy Kimmel said he met her before the show, she's a very special girl, then he asked Michael if there was something
else
that made her special. Michael said yes, she's the youngest breast cancer survivor in the world
the audience gasped and applauded then cut short their applause, to save it
for her
she was diagnosed at 2½ and had a modified radical mastectomy at three
the breath of the audience got choppy with that awful detail, a kind of groan and the taking back of the groan all at once, in decency & respect for the little girl because the audience didn't want her imminent arrival to have any air of spectacle, this child deserved being met at her level, with decency & respect, they didn't want to subject her ears to carnival sounds, because she was Everychild.
Then Michael, with playful irritation said,
Jesus, can we bring her out already, Jimmy?
The audience laughed & out she came (holdng Mom's hand) in her
dear
pink glasses, with her bear called Bear, in her party dress and hair done up atop her head, the audience
awwwww'd
like they do when animal experts bring out perfect tiny lorises, tiger cubs (& baby bears called Bear), they melted & stood on their feet as she clambered onto the couch and into Michael's arms.

EXPLICIT

[Reeyonna]

Subterranean Homesick Blues

Not

feeling well. Physically depressed, emo-depressed. Shit spiritual. Doesn't leave her room. Rikki brings melty Yogurtland. Rikki craigslistbought a new used motorcycle, where did he get the bread. ReeRee only eats Rocky Road. Rikki picks up Rocky Road from 7Eleven when he doesn't feel like riding over to Y-land on La Brea, she likes Ben & Jerry's but it's
ice cream,
I'm like 200 lbs overweight,
can you please just go to why can't you please just go to Yogurtland?
When he delivers the ice cream he tries to cheer her up but she hates that he's so wasted.
You're gunna die on that bike and your baby will never know you.
She can thank big brother for that. What an asshole. Loser.
Looser.

. . .

YouTube tripping. Kat Stacks talking about how she fucked all the brokass niggers in youngmoney. Kreayshawn talking about Kat Stacks being a ratchet ho. A slideshow tour of Beyoncé's million-dollar Mercedes van. (It has a shower and toilet.) ReeRee still couldn't believe Brody Jenner was the ½brother of all the Kardashians,
everyone
in that family was famous. Reeyonna
hated
that she'd been born this way, Lady Gaga should have written a song not about people who were born different but about people who were born to remain
nothing
until they died. She used to think she could never get famous because she had no discernible talent, tho look at Kim, Khloé & Kourtney. But even
they
had talent,
major
talent, it was just harder to say what it was, & that was part of the mystique.

She cried herself to sleep after watching 3½ hours of Kendall & Kylie Jenner and Janet Devlin. There were hundreds of videos Kylie and Kendall uploaded, karaoking to Nicki Minaj, they made funny videos in their bikinis with their friends from different exotic places, jumping around & laughing, so beautiful were their bodies, sometimes they did the videos from their room which was bigger than her mother's house, they were always in front of the cameras, they were growing up on camera, it was a natural thing for them, like a second language, you could tell they were in Paradise, she wanted so much to be a Kardashian. Janet Devlin lived on a beautiful farm in N Ireland like Rapunzel in
Tangled/
her castle, she had long beautiful straw-red hair too & one day she flew to Liverpool for
The X Factor
auditions and became immortal. It was
exactly
like Bella Swan, Reeyonna had that same nightmarish feverpitched painful
yearning
in every fiber of her being for the elixir of fame, she wanted to be a Kardashian or Janet Devlin, she wanted to suddenly be inside their bodies, it was the same yearning she had for Vampire Life & the elixir of immortality when she saw her 1st
Twilight
at 12 years-old—OMG she'd watched
every single one
of the Kendall Kylie Janet Devlin YouTubes, Janet sang all of her songs in a small room of her isolated country home, millions & millions of people watched, you could see cars in the window whizzing by & the reflection of herds of goats in the glass. OMG when she sang that Regina Spektor song
Us . . . . . . . . .

I'll never be famous I'll never be thanking stadium fans for not giving up on me never be saying FUCK Y'ALL to my h8trs, I'll never even HAVE h8trs, I just want to die!

. . .

She got an email from a company that stored the blood from your baby's umbilical cord.

It's nature's own insurance

The umbilical cord delivers nutrients and oxygen to your unborn child and contains specialized cells with great potential to generate healthy new cells and aid in the treatment of numerous diseases. As a result, more and more parents are opting to collect and store their child's cord blood.

What were they even talking about?

. . .

Rikki's fosterdad called. Jim never presses, only
suggests
. He's cool & methodical, a retired engineer. Rikki said he used to work on rockets. Jim says,
You know there's a bed waiting for you here, Reeyonna. Your privacy would absolutely be respected, I make you that promise. No unexpected visitors & that means you know who. Dawn & I will make sure of that.
Ree just couldn't say yes, she knew it was only her stubbornness, she knew that staying with Jim & Dawn was the best idea, probably the best place to be at this
time
, the best place for her new little family. To get the help & support she needed. Cause Rikki sure as shit wasn't going to provide it, he couldn't even get her fuckin yogurt. Reeyonna said haltingly,
Did she say anything about the cameras?
She kind of thought he knew or she probably wouldn't have mentioned it. Jim said,
She wasn't too thrilled. If you wanted to hurt her, mission accomplished. But I think your mother understood why you did it from your point of view. That doesn't excuse or minimize it, Reeyonna, but she said she understood. Anyway, none of my business. I just called to say what I said—& I'm glad you picked up!
Reeyonna thought it was cool Jim didn't bring up the cameras until she did. She said,
Yeah, and it's funny I
did
pick up because I haven't really been using my phone like at
all
.
Jim said,
I just want you to know that my wife & I are offering you sanctuary. For our grandchild . . .
ReeRee said,
I'll think about it, Jim, thank you, let me think about it,
knowing she wouldn't.
We all
said Jim
just want that baby to be healthy, that's priority number 1.
Reeyonna said,
Absolutely, & thank you Jim, you've always been so great. I'll really think about it, OK?
(Knowing she wouldn't, that the weed of her pride prevented her.)
We don't want him or her growing up to be a gypsy because his mom was wandering around
(engineer humor).
Jim, I have to get off now.
He said,
All right, Reeyonna, thank you for hearing me out. We're here for you, for you & Rikki & the baby.
She said,
I know that, Jim, & I really appreciate it. You've always—you & Dawn—you've always been so good to me, so fair. You're like the parents I wish I could have had. How is Dawn, is she doing OK?
(Some awkwardness there for Ree.) Jim said,
Dawn's fine, doing well, thank you for asking.
(ReeRee knew about Dawn's troubles thru Rikki.)
And how are you?
inquired ReeRee, suddenly Our Miss Manners of selfless telephone etiquette.
You
doin OK?
Jim said, Me?
Can't complain. I woke up this morning & said, Welp I'm still on the right side of the dirt, guess I'll make a pot of coffee.
ReeRee laughed. What a sweet man. She had a pig for a mother and an asshole father who sent her postcards on her bdays, it was so interesting to see there were good parents in the world.
Rikki said there was a court date
set for the adoption.
Jim said,
Yup. We're finally going to make the boy legal.

A few more lobs & volleys, then:

– Reeyonna, will you do me a favor?

– Totally.

– I've got a money order for $500 with your name on it.

– No no! Jim, that's OK——

– It's from Dawn & she wanted me to give it to Rikki to give to you. So that's what I'm going to do.

– No really Jim you've given too much al—————

– Now here's the favor. You said you'd do me a favor.

– OK, yes. I will. What is it.

– The
favor
is, you have to accept Dawn's money order & say thank you.

– That's the favor? she said with a half-smile.

– Yup.

– OK. That's
so sweet
.

– That's terrific. Dawn will be very glad. Now you take care.

– I love you. And please say hi to Dawn. And thank her for the money order.

– You bet I will.

– I'm going to write her a little note. I'll give it to Rikki.

– She'd love to hear from you. It's not
necessary
, but I know that she would.

– I love you, Jim.

– You take care now Reeyonna. (
Hangs up
)

. . .

Tom-Tom started hounding them (again) about the rent. She wanted like
two-thousand-dollars
. Fucking outrageous.

They had a week to pay. To make things worse, Tom-Tom told Reeyonna she had to switch rooms with Bolt so he could have the bigger, nicer room (tho of course Tom-Tom didn't put it that way). Which pissed ReeRee off because it was just a bullshit powerplay, the dude-ho always slept w/Tom-Tom anyway. When Ree protested now no one
else
was paying rent, Tom-Tom said that her
brother
was, & that being her
s,
Daydream Believers
were exempt. Reeyonna said
Hey put me in the cast, you can just say I was a
Teen Mom
reject,
Tom-Tom thought about it for about a second before saying no. ReeRee couldn't understand why not, she thought it was a totally rad idea, maybe the best she'd ever had.

Tom-Tom said she was getting
lots
of responses from potential bad news bears & soon the temple on the Mount would be filled with righteous
loosers
. To date, she had just-a-
gigolo
Bolt (who Dr Phil joked had a screw loose);
Intervention
Dr Phil; a baker's apprentice from
Cake Boss
(coming next week from Portland); a kid from Season One of
Bait Car
who just got out of jail on grand theft auto, said he got time off for bad behavior
hawhawhaw
and would be Greyhounding from FL as soon as he could clear it with his probation officer; & a retired ticketing officer from
Parking Wars.
T
²
was still thinking about letting the Alaskan dyke with a semi-moustache who crashed her rig in
Ice Road Truckers
join their crew, she had to admit from their phone conversations that the chick was a hoot. She said the truckers called fuel “motion lotion.” Tom-Tom said, Hey, we call it crank. But gimme some.

Tom-Tom was having a big romance with this creepy gel'd hair guy she met at that lame convention. His claim to fame was getting cut from the final round of auditions of a reality show about mostly menopausal women who hired hardish-bodied, orange-tanned manwhores for sex.
Barf.
(Reeyonna watched one of the episodes with Rikki, there was a married couple who got off having the husband watch his wife get fucked, only the husband didn't seem too happy about it, R&R couldn't even
believe
seemingly somewhat normalish people were agreeing to put their twisted shit on camera. Showtime probably had to pay them, Rikki thought maybe like $20,000.) Of course being the
looser
that he is, loose Bolt wasn't actually
in
any of the episodes, being featured instead on
Gigolos Behind the Scenes Online
(onscreen time: 1 minute 48 seconds) throwing a hissy fit when they said pack your sixpack & your ding dong, amigo, cause you're
leaving Las Vegas
. How fucking lame was that?

Apparently Bolt was Tom-Tom's new exec prod. Supposedly he had all these
connects
, people who owed him favors and such. Rikki said Tom-Tom told him Bolt arranged for a crew to come next week & shoot footage of house hijinks. Tom-Tom wanted them to film for 3 days—the more footage she got, the better the pilot would be—she was putting together what they called a presentation reel but said she'd be happier if she could complete a 22-minute pilot.
Do you think the camera crew's gunna do it for FREE, Reeyonna? You know what nobody seems to be fucking cognizant of? Nobody is cognizant of the fact that
NO ONE BUT ME
is even supposed to fucking be
STAYING
here, which is what I promised Cherokee. I don't
BREAK PROMISES
, I keep my
WORD
, I
WILL
make it up to her, that's between
ME AND CHEROKEE,
that's
PERSONAL BUSINESS.
But I need you to be
COGNIZANT
that if you're
NOT PAYING RENT
then
TECHNICALLY
you are just a
SQUATTER
here & you can just go
SQUAT
& leak yr
PEE
someplace
ELSE
. Fuckin cloggin up the frickin
TOILET
with yr freakin
NAPKINS
.
DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE NOT, YOU ARE! YOU ARE! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY, I KNOW THAT YOU ARE! YOU'RE FUCKIN CLOGGING THE TOILET & YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT PLUMBER VISIT TOO,
$349! . . . you should just
MOVE BACK TO RIKKI'S,
he told me his parents have been asking you to do that, well that's
EXACTLY
what you're gunna have to frickin do if you don't come up with no fuckin
SKRILL
. And don't start
CRYIN
and shit, OK? Cause I don't have any
SYMPATHY.
As Bolt likes to say, All god's children don't get free lunch no more, due to
BUDGET CUTS
. Hahahahaha.