On Christmas Eve, Aggie woke up on the floor of a partitioned two-car garage. She was still wrapped in the blanket. There was a band of fading light at the bottom of the garage door. The day was ending.
A door in the partition was open. A man walked by wearing a bathrobe, smoking a cigarette.
“Can we get this going, Ozrin? I have a dinner–” he asked someone.
Aggie could see another man, behind a video camera that was on a tripod. Larry Ozrin.
“Just let me set the exposure here–” he answered.
“You’re not gonna show my face–” the bathrobe man warned.
“No one cares about your face, Don.” Ozrin replied.
“Cause I have a call-back on a pilot next week…” Don rambled on as Ozrin looked up and saw Aggie in the doorway.
“OK kid, come here.” He ordered Aggie.
Aggie stepped into the other half of the garage. In one corner there was a mattress on the floor, lit by a Home Depot work light. A sheet with a petunia pattern stretched across it. A video camera was pointed at the mattress.
Aggie looked around. There was no way out. She put her hand in her pocket and felt around for the little blue feather. She found it. She put it in her mouth and swallowed it.
“OK” she told Ozrin and walked toward him.
There was a song in the sixties by one of the famed “wall of sound” Phil Spector girl groups, the Shirells. The song was “Leader of the Pack”. To quote that song, “Get the picture? Yes, we seeā¦”
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