Daniel Price - Slick

The conversation devolved from there. It got so silly that Madison couldn’t translate anymore. Unlike EyeTalk, the poor girl wasn’t built to handle the relentless back-and-forth between me and her mother. Soon she was laughing so hard, she had to escape to the bathroom to recuperate.

Jean and I were left alone, smiling but not laughing. She kicked up her bare feet, leaned her head against her fist, and stared at me with lingering malaise from our Saturday tryst. This is lovely, Scott, but I can see you still have problems. Of course I had problems. What the hell did she expect? She claimed we had some profound cerebral rapport, but what if I wanted to explore her mind and her body? She claimed she was inviting me in, but what if the seat I wanted was already taken? What if I didn’t want to spend the rest of my days coveting another man’s wife and stepdaughter?

I matched her stare, but her frustration couldn’t hold up to mine. It wasn’t fair to tease me with her perfect wit, her perfect warmth, her perfect child, this perfectly wonderful domestic scene, and then pack it all up at the end of the day. I was loving them on the clock, renting them out like a pair of hostesses. If that was all I got out of them, this was all they got out of me. I may have been lonely, but I still had pride. Worse for Jean, I still had Harmony.

I raised the volume of the television, then sat forward and lost myself in the show. It was 6:45. The fourth commercial break had just come to an end. This was the part where Larry took calls from the audience, the part that worried me the most. I trusted Larry. He only threw softballs. Who knew what his viewers were waiting to hurl?

He introduced the first caller: a fast-talking man from Nyack, New York.

Hi. Harmony, first I want to say how sorry I am for all the terrible things you’ve been through .

Over the course of the hour, out of the corner of my eye, I watched Harmony grow more and more comfortable in front of the cameras. But now she seemed a little off balance. She furrowed her brow and cocked her head. She was hearing the caller through a tiny earpiece. It took some getting used to.

“Uh, thank you.”

My question is, uh, don’t you think you’re sending out a bad message to other rape victims by not cooperating with the police? I mean you’re asking for money, but don’t you want justice?

I could see Alonso’s jaw tighten. He desperately wanted to jump in and tear this guy a new one. Harmony remained perfectly level. At some point her proper grammar had reemerged, but she wasn’t trying. She didn’t even seem to notice.

“I understand where you’re coming from, sir, but I’ll say it again: I don’t need to see him go to jail. Jail’s not going to make him a better person. Jail only makes people worse. And his going to jail isn’t going to help me sleep better or live better. Look, money is justice. Anyone who tells you otherwise probably has more money than he needs. And if you think that’s a bad message…” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. I never asked to be a messenger. I gotta do what I think is best for me. But you’re entitled to your opinion.”

I leaned my head back and yelled. I could hear the spirit of Ayn Rand yelling back: She’s magnificent, Scott! How did you find her? Just got lucky, ma’am. Just got lucky.

Madison rushed back downstairs. “What happened?”

“This woman is unstoppable!” I bellowed through a screen of artificial rancor.

She giggled. “Who, Mom or Harmony?”

“Harmony,” I replied, taking a quick peek at Jean. Having given up on me, she once again lost herself in Alonso’s novel. But she did witness my odd cry to the heavens. I met her quizzical look with a childish raspberry. She shook her head, then signed to Madison.

“Mom says you’re a troubled individual.”

“Sit down. We’re watching again.”

This time Madison sat down on the floor, in front of her mother. Clapping with glee, Jean undid Madison’s ponytail and began running her fingers through her daughter’s long mane.

“She loves untangling my hair,” she said. “She’s a real freak about it.”

“Your mom’s just a freak.”

“What did Harmony say to make you yell like that?”

“I’ll explain later. Just watch.”

I’d already missed the second call, but considering that Harmony had deferred to Alonso, it must have been a legal question. The third caller was a woman from Ottawa, Ontario. She had a soft, unsteady voice. Larry had to tell her twice to go ahead.

Hi. Uh, Harmony. My name is Jenna. I just wanted to start by saying that… I think you’re very brave to come forward like this .

She chuckled. “I never planned on coming this far forward.”

I know you didn’t expect this much attention. But still, you took on a famous person with a lot of money and a lot of resources. That’s not an easy thing to do. I.. .

Larry edged the woman on. What’s the question?

I was in the same position as you. I was…I was raped by a man who… He hurt me pretty bad. And I was too afraid to come forward. This man was very well respected in the community and… I just couldn’t find the courage to do it. I couldn’t do what you did. And I’m a lot older than you .

The caller was crying now. Harmony bit her lip and gazed down at her ceramic mug.

I guess my question is how? I mean, this only happened to you eight weeks ago. It’s been almost a year for me, and I still can’t… I still don’t even know how to handle it. Harmony, you’re an inspiration to me. How did you get so strong?

Although the average viewer couldn’t tell, the woman was disconnected. It was something producers did when a caller rambled on too long. In this remote-control world, when Nielsen boxes measured ratings in ten-second intervals, uncomfortable beats were a business hazard. As dramatic as the whole scene was, Harmony had only five seconds to reply before Larry gently pushed things forward. She almost missed her window.

“It’s an act,” she replied with a trembling smile. “This whole being strong thing is just an act for the cameras. But I’m glad you fell for it, ma’am. I’m hoping someday I’ll fall for it too. Maybe we’ll both trick ourselves into being strong.”

Magnificent. She was more profound than I could have possibly imagined. She was a prodigy. Wünderkind .

Madison was less impressed. “You think that call was for real?”

“I have very little doubt.”

“I don’t know. It sounded like a plant to me.”

She was getting under my skin, but it was my own fault. I was the one who brought her backstage and showed her all the ropes and pulleys. I’d hoped that Madison’s new enlightenment would make her less cynical, not more so. Either I was failing her as a mentor or she was just too damn young to cross the curtain. This was a problem I’d have to address.

At 6:53, something happened. Larry paused, expressionless, as he listened to his producers through his earpiece. You’d never tell from his level face that he had a heavy decision to make and a split second in which to make it. But he was a seasoned veteran of the business. In retrospect, he did what any broadcaster would have done. And there were consequences for others — lots of consequences for lots of others — that he couldn’t have possibly known about.

He simply and innocently introduced the final caller as “Los Angeles, California.”