* * *VIDEO # 2
Outside MAX’S house. Surveillance black and gray, video hazy. Static angle down on doorway. Obviously from a fixed security camera. We see nothing but the doorway for a moment.
TITLE: ARRIVALS AND DEPARTURES
GIRL appears at door. Her face has been pixelated to obscure her features. She is wearing a sun hat. She leans into the intercom. She pauses for a moment, then pushes the door open.
CUT TO: SAME DOORWAY AGAIN.
Exact same shot of still entrance. The door opens and GIRL exits. She pauses, puts on her sunglasses, and walks off camera.
CUT TO: SAME DOORWAY AGAIN.
GIRL enters the frame, no sunglasses. She pauses, opens her purse, and takes out a compact. She checks her face, touches her hair. She returns compact to purse and presses buzzer. She waits, looks directly at camera, and waves. She rests her hand on the doorknob and then goes inside.
CUT TO: SAME DOORWAY AGAIN.
Entrance is empty for a few seconds. The door opens and GIRL exits, rushing right off camera in an instant.
CUT TO: SAME DOORWAY AGAIN.
END TITLE: A MINAMAX PRODUCTION
Two Weeks from Leaving
Saturday.
Mina had to go to work today.
Lorene called her early, waking her. She sounded upset, but Mina pretended not to notice. All she could think about was no Max today. Instead she would have to cover the lunch shift at the restaurant. She would have to get it together and smile and be the face of calm and confidence. She had lied to David about having to work and now she really did have to work.
Lisa had to go to work today.
The twins could not be left with their father on Saturdays. He slept in and by the time he was up and about, the children had been awake for hours. In his misery and exhaustion, he had no patience. Mrs. Brenshaw was feeling ill today and couldn’t baby-sit even for a few hours. Lisa decided she would take the children to Lorene’s. She’d let them play in the living room and watch TV while she cleaned. This was not allowed by her company. But she couldn’t leave them alone with Mark.
Lorene did not have to go to work today.
She canceled her appointments and her session with Beryl at St. John’s. She would stay in bed and do nothing. She would let Mina handle everything and sleep in.
She would perhaps spend the day under her sheets, in the dark, trying to be still. She was contemplating some self-touch therapy when she heard the door unlock. She froze under her sheets, and then she remembered Saturday morning the cleaning woman, Lisa, came. She wouldn’t have any peace, not even one morning of it. She put on a chartreuse vintage silk kimono painted with tiny Eiffel Towers and black velvet Chinese slippers with sequins. She went down the spiral stairs intending to ask Lisa to cancel today’s cleaning. In the living room Lisa had her two five-year-olds, each grasping one hand. They were a boy and a girl, and Lorene watched as the heavyset woman arranged them on her couch with their toys in front of her large TV. Lisa had on a T-shirt that said “California” in looping cursive letters, with a stylized palm tree punctuating the finala.
“Mom, it’s much bigger than our TV,” the boy said.
“Yes, it is. Now, you guys watch cartoons just like at home. Don’t touch anything. Sit right here and afterward we’ll get ice cream.”
The children nodded and smiled and were already too occupied with the TV to bother with their mother any longer. When Lisa turned away from the kids and saw Lorene, she nearly fell back.
“Lorene. I didn’t know you were here.”
Lorene waved at her, smiling.
“I’m playing hooky today, Lisa. Are these your children?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll take them home right now. I couldn’t geta sitter, so I brought them. I’ve never done that before, but I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal. I should have checked with you. I’m so sorry.”
Lorene shrugged and looked at the children, mesmerized by her TV.
“It’s all right. They seem like well-behaved kids. What the hell. What are they, twins?”
“Yes. It’s OK? Are you sure?”
Lorene shrugged.
“Yeah, just go ahead and do your work. I’m going to have some coffee.” Lorene sat in her kitchen sipping coffee and watching Lisa do her routine. It was strange to watch a stranger clean your house. Lorene felt oddly fascinated. It was embarrassing, really, but in truth she found the company comforting. It distracted her from herself, and she didn’t mind sort of thinking about someone else.
“You do a good job, Lisa. You’re very thorough.” Lisa sprayed the oven with oven cleaner, then readied the bucket and mop for the floor.
“Thank you. Your house is pretty easy. It doesn’t seem like you even live here sometimes.”
“I guess you can tell a lot about someone from cleaning their house.”
Lisa scrubbed the countertops. She looked at Lorene in her silk kimono. Lorene finger-combed her blue-black hair, pushing the ends forward so the curl cut against her cheekbone. An inward glance at an old photo of Louise Brooks that Lorene had permanently etched in her brain inspired this early morning primping. Lisa shrugged a shoulder up to her cheek to move her hair out of her steamy face. When that didn’t suffice, she lifted one wet yellow-glove-clad hand and brushed her hairback with the peek of forearm where the glove stopped. Still it was in her way.
“I think there are these people who analyze these things— what a person’s trash says about them, their dirt, the kind of debris they create. I think it’s supposed to be quite telling,” Lorene said.
“Yes, I guess so. If you really think about it, but I’m not sure why someone would. Basic things. Whether they have kids or not. What they eat or don’t eat. Whether they entertain or not.”
“Come on, more than that. What music they listen to, what books they read — or if they read. What clothes they wear, and how much they spend on clothes.”
“You have a lot of beautiful clothes.”
Lorene nodded.
“So what do you think? I mean, you’ve cleaned my house for a couple of years now. What conclusions have you drawn?” Lorene hated herself for asking; she turned every situation into an exercise in self-contemplation. Her favorite subject, herself. Lisa looked at her oddly as she continued scrubbing.
“I don’t know. Do books and clothes really tell you all that much about a person? I wouldn’t know much from that. I think just talking to you now is more about you than all the stuff I clean in your house.”
“How so?”
“That you seem more like a person in a movie than any person I’ve ever met. Everything about you seems so — I don’t know. So arranged.”
Lorene smiled at this. “Yes, that’s true. Rehearsed for some performance.”
“And you are aware of this. It kind of pleases you, I can see.”
Lorene took out her first cigarette of the day. She caughtLisa glancing at it, and Lorene made a bit of a show of lighting it.
“Well, isn’t maturity about recognizing who you are and running full-throttle toward it?”
“You’re not messy.”
“It’s either maturity or glamour. I haven’t figured out which one yet.”