Bruce Wagner - I Met Someone

“Hardly.”

“And because I’m so… codependent , I got worried about you .”

“How so?”

“That people would say, Are you serious? You know, Why? ‘Why on earth would she…’ ‘—Oh man , from Edward Snowden to her ?’ You know, from this… revolutionary —to… famous-mom-searching-for-long-lost-daughter Lifetime movie — that people would think you were slumming or sold out . That it would ‘damage your credibility’—”

“I’m not concerned.”

“—because you were bitten by the ‘celebrity’ bug. Seduced!” Laura laughed and Dusty got embarrassed. “I’m sorry! I know! I’m crazy. But this shit does go through my head.”

“I get it. But I don’t think you should trivialize what you’re up to, the journey you’re beginning. The search. People will always have their… perceptions. I’ve never cared what others might think of my work and my choices. I can take care of myself.”

“I know!” she blushed. “I know you can! You’re Laura Poitras!”

“Look. Here’s the deal. I like to film all kinds of things. I can’t control what people think of me, or my work. I want to make the movies I want to make. So after we spoke, I thought: hmmm . Okay, that’s kind of interesting. I let things come to me and, when they do, I pay attention. The truth is, Dusty, you’re one of the most political people around, always have been. What you did by coming out — and coming out when you did — took an insane amount of courage. You’re a warrior. And I really remember that moment. It was a huge one for the culture and a huge one for me personally. A lot of things shifted in my life because of what you did. That’s why I’m here. And I have a feeling that what you want to do now is just as brave, just as powerful, just as healing — just as political , in its way — and that got my attention. Whether I can do this logistically or timewise is something else, but let’s see. Does any of that make sense?”

“Yes,” said Dusty, eyes welling with tears. “Thank you.”

—

“Wow,” said Allegra.

“I know,” said Dusty.

“So how long have you been planning this?”

“I wasn’t really ‘planning’—you mean the documentary?”

“I mean, trying to find her.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I think… I was just running —I ran, ran, ran, for so many years. It’s… complicated , Leggy. And I know I never talked about it that much with you, because I couldn’t. With anyone — but Ginevra.”

“Which is perfect. I knew you needed your space, so it’s not like I’ve been waiting—”

“I know that,” she said warmly. “I really do. And I really, really appreciate it, babe. It was so important, for me not to feel that pressure. I don’t know,” she said, touching Allegra’s cheek. “It’s all so mysterious, right? But everything’s mysterious. Right?”

“Might just be time to visit Marilyn’s bruja , huh,” said Allegra.

Dusty laughed and said, “ Oh my God, yes. And have Laura film it!”

“We could show it at our own festival — Burning Woman!” They laughed, and it took the edge off. “So, how are you going to begin? I mean, to look?”

“Livia’s quarterbacking, as they say . And no one knows —not Jeremy, not Elise, no one . So you gotta zip it, ’kay?”

“Of course! Oh Bunny, you are so brave , I love you so much .” They held each other then Allegra said, “Did Livia say how long it would take?”

She shook her head. “I don’t even want to think about it. I mean, we might not even be able to…”

Allegra let her wife’s words trail off. “Did you — do you have any… like, information?”

Dusty didn’t feel like getting into it, so she lied. (Plus, she didn’t want things to sound bleak.) “Just the hospital and the time frame — I mean, Liv has access to — she’s gonna start exploring what social services were happening back then — agencies or whatever… it was the sixties! Did you know she used to be a private eye?”

“ Livia? Are you serious?” she said, with a shocked smile.

“Yes! A P.I. — private investigator. Still has her license.”

“Oh my God, she is so Miss Marple!”

“Isn’t that amazing? I friggin’ love it.”

“And it’ll be for HBO or Netflix or what.”

“You know, I’m not sure. I want to say probably HBO? But part of me doesn’t want to get ahead of myself. I mean, it’s kind of something not so much on my mind right now? I don’t want to jinx it! I’m totally feeling superstitious.”

“I can’t even ,” said Allegra. She reached over and stroked Dusty’s flat stomach. “Butterflies, huh. You’re a butterfly girl, huh.”

“ Beyond. But they’re not really butterflies … they’re more like doves or bats or—”

“Cats! Does Bunny have kitties in her tummy?”

“With claws . No: hawks . Bunny has a belly full of baby hawks.”

“Goshawks and eagles — little eaglets . Prob’ly some in your womb too, huh.”

“Yup. That too.”

“Tumblin’ around. Like she’s in there kickin’ again. Mama’s coming to find her and she knows and she’s startin’ to kick .”

“I’ve had diarrhea for days.”

—

Bed: Leggy iPads while Dusty coasts on 25 mg of Trazodone HCl, woozily meditating on her life.

Standing on a Greenwich Village balcony, age nineteen, surveying the windswept nonstop cerulean world. That jazzy sunkissed time of firsts: her first play— The Miss Firecracker Contest , and first big-city love affair — a latina , ten years older (Mark Morris dancer). Her face twitches as she drifts and dreams. How blessed she has been, how blessed she was —again! ( My precious baby will be born anew. ) Journeying, journeying, journeying … she envisions her daughter, their first embrace upon reunion. Though not wanting to think too much about how Aurora will look in present/future time: the color of her hair or how she wears it or how she’ll dress for their meeting or the shape of her eyes or if they have the same freckles, moles, and skin tags or if she likes the same music or where she’s been living all these years or if she’s married or divorced and remarried… didn’t want to overthink. And so, with her oblivious wife screen-scrolling beside her, Dusty flew back on R xwings to primal NYC scenes: all the tumbled, deflowery moments enshrined in a rush of scent and weltered sound — first subway ride, first fireworks, first sighting of a stinky Oh my God, is he dead? sidewalk vagrant… first crazy blizzard, first concert (Prince), first Central Park nighttime mouthfuck. She literally saw a bank getting robbed one day, and on another, Yoko leaving FAO Schwarz. And Robin Williams shooting Moscow on the Hudson , hey!…

Hey? Say what —now she’s quit the Greenwich balcony, and hears a clamor of soft voices. Music? Ahhh : dance party in Brooklyn. No… New Orleans? Liam and Livia and Marta are there, and… Martin Luther King ? WTF! Now someone’s shaking her. Uh oh. Stop—

The clattering chorus becomes a single voice: Allegra’s.

She blinks open her eyes. Her wife’s hand is on her shoulder.

“Dusty, Dusty! It just said online that your mom died.”

—

Soon after, a nurse from Sea Bluff called the house to inform.