Emmy And Me

Gathered in the rehearsal studio, it seemed like a lot of people. In the last six months we'd only convinced fourteen strays to join our new little nation, but in that room it was plenty.

"I called you all here to tell you what happened last night. A few of you know, but it is important to clear up all the details, so here we are," I announced. "Last night, your queen Emmy De Lascaux and her band The Downfall performed their first big public concert. Emmy appeared before over a thousand people, many of them writers and reporters.”

I waited for everybody to quiet down, then continued. “The concert was a huge success, and Emmy is well on her way to presenting a positive image for you guys among the daylighters. It was originally my plan for Emmy to put herself in the public eye as much as possible. I felt, and she agreed, that this was the best way to introduce the Night Children to the world of the day."

Continuing, I explained "We always knew there was a possibility of danger for us, but we felt the risk was worth it." Looking at the faces around me, I mostly saw agreement. "We took this risk for you. Not for me, and not for Emmy, but for you," I said, looking every one of the strays straight in the eyes. "So you could live your lives as you wished, and not have to hide any longer. Has it been working?" I demanded, again making eye contact with every single one. "Is your life better now than it was before?"

There was no need to clarify what I meant by 'before'. They all knew exactly what I was getting at, and almost all nodded in agreement.

"There is no going back," I stated. "This is a revolution against the old ways, and we are the revolutionaries. You," I said, pointing to each and every one, "are revolutionaries."

Taking a moment to let my words sink in, I continued, "Revolutions are wars, and wars have battles. Last night we had our first and second battles. The first battle was your queen Emmy performing on that stage and winning the hearts and minds of the people who don't know of the Children of the Night. People who don't know how or why Emmy is different from them. Emmy is not hiding from these people- she is putting herself out there for all of them to see, and see that she is special, and different can be good. Emmy won that battle last night,” I said, and pulled out the copy of the morning’s newspaper folded open to show the entertainment section's headline. “Emmy stuns- The Downfall is for real,” it said in big black type.

“The Downfall showed in grand fashion that they are not just another YouTube sensation. Emmy De Lascaux, the band's leader, proved that she is more than exotic looks when she wowed a capacity audience at The Red Lantern last night. If those critics who doubted her talent could have seen the way she had the crowd wrapped around her midnight black fingers...” I read out loud to the strays.

“You see? Our plan is working,” I said, and again, made eye contact to make sure everyone was paying attention and understood. “And that was the first battle. The second battle came after the show was over. When we were alone, Emmy was attacked by Prince Marfan and his man.” I had instructed the guys that helped last night not to say a word to anybody else, so this was a surprise to most of the people in the room, and their gasps of surprise let me know my gag order had been followed.

“They injured her badly, intent on punishing her for going against tradition and the old ways. They were about to mutilate and disfigure her when I got there.” Looking around, I saw that everyone in the room was riveted to my every word, and had no idea of the extent of Emmy's injuries.

I reached into the inside pocket of my coat and drew out Marfan's strange knife, with its handle that curved forward and blade that curved back. I pulled it from its sheath and held it up above my head so everybody could see it, and said “This was the knife that he planned on carving Emmy up with.”

The effect was immediate. Every single one of the strays, even those who'd helped clean things up the night before, took a step back in horror. To my dismay, little Jassie broke out crying at the sight of the knife and the knowledge of what it was capable of doing in Prince Marfan’s hands.

“This knife!” I repeated for emphasis, holding it high. “But I got there in time, and I took it from him, and I killed him with it. His own knife!” I said, stabbing an imaginary foe for emphasis, and believe me, my theatrics were working. Everybody was completely and utterly wrapped up in my story. “Then I turned on his bodyguard and I beat him to death with my bare hands!” I made a fist and waved it in the classic 'put up your dukes' style. “My own bare hands,” I repeated, my voice low and menacing.

“This is what happens to those who try to take from me what is mine. Emmy is mine. My lover, my partner, my queen.” I looked around, giving every single person in the room a long, cold stare. This moment was key, and I knew I had to make it pack a wallop. “Emmy was in my shadow, and no one gets to harm anybody under my protection. No one. Is that clear?” I demanded, and everybody responded that it was completely crystal clear.

I waved the knife to get their attention again, and once again looked them all in the eyes. “Do you know who else is in my shadow?” I asked, trying to make my voice as chilling as possible. It must have been working, because they were all shrinking back, not wanting to say a word, just shake their heads.

“You are,” I said, answering my own question, waving the knife to indicate everyone in the room. “All of you are. Do you know what that means? It means I would do the same if any of you were attacked. You- Max!” I said, suddenly singling out one of the men. “Are you in my shadow?”

Falling to his knees, the elderly man cowered. “Please!” he begged. “I am in your shadow, oh queen!”

“Yes, Max, you are,” I said gently, and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “And no one, ever, is going to hurt you, or they will have to face me,” I added in a much harder tone, tapping my chest with the tip of the knife.

“Sana, are you in my shadow?” I asked of the young woman.

“Yes! Yes, forever!”

Continuing around the room, I asked each one to reaffirm that I was their queen, and they all did without the slightest bit of hesitation. They were all so intimidated by this point that I could have told them all to have coronaries and they probably would.

“Excellent. I only have one more question,” I said to the group. “What will you all do for me?”

Everybody started shouting their answers, so I pointed to Michael. “Anything you wish,” was his answer, and all the rest nodded in agreement.

“That is what I wanted to hear,” I said, and nodded my head as well. “Because I have some very important new rules to follow. The first and most important rule is keep your eyes and ears open. Prince Marfan found Emmy, even though his territory is half a world away. He took us by surprise, but I think someone must have known he was in the area. Any one of you would have told me he was here, but we know of at least a dozen more Night Children living in the Bay Area that have not chosen to come under our shadow. I want to know if any of them are hostile to our goals. I want to know if any newcomers enter the region, especially any of high rank. So what's rule number one?” I asked the group, and they are responded with some variation of 'keep your eyes peeled.’

“Rule number two. Our business is private. Anything that has to do with our little revolution here,” and I indicated all of us were in this together, “does not get told to anybody else. Nobody. If anyone asks anything, what will you tell them?” I asked, pointing at Hakan.

“Nothing, my queen!” he stammered, trembling.

“That's right, nothing. Do. Not. Tell. Anyone. Anything. About. Our. Business.” I looked around to make sure that everyone understood perfectly. “What if a friend from work asks?” I asked, looking at Sana.

“I won't tell them anything!” she said quickly.

“Good.” Pointing at Jassie, “What if a police officer asks?”

“Nothing!” she squeaked, terrified. I felt bad about putting the young girl on the spot, but I had to make sure she understood I was the highest possible authority figure.

“What if Emmy's mother asks?” I directed at Michael, who had distinctly been elevated to number two spot in the hierarchy somehow.

“Emmy's mother?” he asked, puzzled by the thought. “Queen Lascaux? I don't know...”

“Nothing!” I yelled. “You will tell her nothing about our business! This is our business, not hers! None of you will tell anybody anything about what we do, is that clear?”

Shocked to be yelled at, Michael went down on his knees in a placating gesture.

“Get up,” I said, my voice gentle. I pulled him to his feet, and asked “Is it clear now? Nobody tells anybody anything. If anybody needs to know anything, anything at all, either Emmy or I will tell them.”

“What about Donny?” Sana asked.

Realizing I hadn't thought about his level of involvement, I answered “That's a very good question. I'll have to talk to Emmy about that. I think it's O.K. to talk to him about general Night Children things, but don't tell him any specifics about our revolution right now, until we get things sorted out with him. He's my best friend, and a very good friend to all of you, too, but he doesn't understand what it means to be... he's not in my shadow, and I'm not sure he wants to be. Until I get that sorted out, don't share any specifics with him.”

“Third rule,” I announced. “Be safe. I don't know if they will send somebody to look for Prince Marfan, but we have to assume they will. I don't want anybody out after dark by themselves for a while. If you see anything that makes you uncomfortable or seems suspicious, don't ignore it. We have to be extremely vigilant. We know, because they will be bound by the old ways, that any of our enemies will only work at night. This means that the day belongs to us, so we need to remember that the daylight means safety, and it is our strength.”

Everybody nodded that they understood, so I continued. “Jassie is the most vulnerable of us, so it's crucial she's never alone. If she's not with her father, she'll have to be with Emmy and me. If that's not possible, with Sana and Donny. I hate that we have to think this way, but for now, it's better safe than sorry.”

“This is our revolution, and like any revolution, we’ll be facing resistance. We are strong!” I declared, once again holding Marfan’s knife up high. “We must be vigilant, and we must be unified. We are all in this together.”

Seeing agreement, I continued, “Why are we doing this? Why are we revolutionaries?” I asked the group.

“For better lives for us, and for our children!” spoke up Michael.

“Exactly,” I granted. “Have our first small steps made our lives better?” I asked. “Has the leadership that Emmy and I have provided made things better? Has living in the open been a good thing?”

“Yes, my queen,” answered Michael.

“Has it been easy, giving up the old ways?” I demanded.

“No, my queen. It has been difficult to change a lifetime, to change old habits and fears,” he answered for the group.

“Change is inevitable,” I declared. “What is important is for us to make the changes in our favor, and that’s what we are doing. Although things may get harder for us soon, now is the time to show our resolve! We will not lose this fight!” I felt I’d gotten my point across, and everybody was on board with the program and willing to fight to keep their gains.

To involve everybody in the discussion, I asked them as a group to start thinking of things that we could do to strengthen our position in case of further aggression, and while everybody was talking I got Sana to help me bring in the food I’d picked up for the meeting. We all ate and talked, and I gave more info about Emmy’s condition.

For me, the most emotional point of the evening came when Jassie gave me a big, long hug.

“What was that for?” I asked.

“For saving Queen Emmy,” she answered, choked up.

I knelt down to put myself at her eye level, and said “Prince Marfan will never be able to hurt anyone again, Jass. Never again. I didn’t want to kill him, but he gave me no choice. But do you know what?” I asked, my voice gentle.

When she shook her head that she didn’t know, I told her “I would have killed him if I had been there to save you, too.” I took the knife out again and showed it to her. “Jass,” I said, “this is the knife he cut you with.”

She recoiled in terror, but I took her hand and laid it on the handle of the knife. “I will do whatever you want with this knife. Do you want me to destroy it?” When she shook her head no, I asked “What should I do with it?”

“I want you to keep it,” she said, her high voice surprisingly steady. “I want you to keep it and put it somewhere you can see it all the time. So you know that you are stronger than him. You are the strongest.”

“That’s what I will do, then. I’ll let it be a reminder that it is my duty to protect the people in my shadow,” I said, putting the wicked blade back in my jacket pocket. Jassie hugged me again, as hard as her little arms could manage. She wanted to let me know as clearly as she could that I wasn’t just her queen, but her hero, too.

Michael watched the whole scene between us, and when Jassie finally let go, he said “That night in the alley, accepting Emmy's shadow, I was afraid I’d failed Jassie,” putting his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “But now I know it was the best thing that could have ever happened to us. Thank you.”

The sincerity of his admission was almost too much and I felt a bit choked up by it, but I managed to get myself under control before I responded “That means a lot to me, Michael. Thanks for telling me that.”

Later, back at the hospital, I told Emmy about the meeting. I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to remember any of it because of the painkillers, but it was important for me to keep her informed anyway.

“You are my hero,” she mumbled as she drifted off.

Sitting in the chair next to the hospital bed, I was deep in my classwork for calc when the ER doc from before stuck his head in. He saw I was there and Emmy was asleep, so he seized the opportunity. “Um, I hate to bother you, but I just came off shift, and I was hoping I could talk to you about...”

I sighed, knowing what he wanted to talk about. “How about we go get some coffee?” I suggested.

“Sounds good. The coffee here is grounds for a malpractice suit,” he said, only catching his unintentional pun when I smirked at the word “grounds”.

“Yeah, well,” he said, chuckling. “There’s decent coffee at the cafe just around the corner, if you don’t mind being away for a few minutes.”

“No, it should be O.K.” I agreed, leaning down and kissing Emmy’s forehead. “I’m going out for a few minutes, babe. I’ll be back in just a little bit,” I explained when she opened her eyes a bit. She nodded that she understood and drifted off.

Dr. Ames led me to a small cafe next door to the main hospital building. We got our coffees and sat down at a table in the corner by the window with a lovely view of the parking structure across the street.

“You said that your partner’s condition is genetic,” Dr. Ames began. “I’ve looked through the literature, but I can’t seem to find anything like it at all.”

I looked at the doctor, debating with myself how much I could tell him. He was a large teddy bear of a man who was somehow calm and reassuring even in the middle of his duties in the E.R. With his graying ponytail and wire-frame glasses he looked like an aging hippie, even in his hospital scrubs. He seemed honestly curious, and I have to admit it seemed as if I could trust him with at least partial information. I mean, it was all going to come out sooner or later anyway, right? Why not start with him.

“Well,” I began, trying to get my story together. “Emmy’s skin color is genetic. It’s a hereditary condition.” He started to say something, but I kept going on. “But it isn’t some kind of birth defect or anything like that. Her coloration is typical for her ethnic group.”

“I’m sorry, you say this condition is common in her ethnic group?” Dr. Ames asked, puzzled.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I meant that she belongs to an ethnic minority that is very small- maybe fifty thousand of them worldwide, but the numbers are just a guess. And this ethnic group is all colored like her. That’s their normal pigmentation.”

Dr. Ames leaned back in his seat, a disbelieving look on his face. “If there really were that many people that looked that way surely I’d have seen them before, in photos if not in person.”

“They hide,” I tried to explain. “They’ve been the subject of persecution for ever, so they’ve learned to hide really well. They typically wear makeup to hide their true skin color and only interact with the wider society at night, when it’s harder to spot their difference.”

Looking as if he just caught on, he grinned. “You almost had me there,” he laughed.

Seeing that it was going to take some proof, I pulled out my phone and showed him some of the pictures I had of various strays.

“I personally know over a dozen here in the Bay Area, and know of maybe a dozen more that live here.” I showed him a shot of Donny and Sana waiting in line for a roller coaster at Six Flags. “This was taken a couple of weeks ago.”

Dr. Ames scrolled through the pictures, zooming in every now and then to look more closely.

“This is incredible,” he mumbled to himself. Finally he handed me my phone back and commented “Your partner is the only one with white hair. The rest all seem to have dark hair.”

“Yeah, she’s the only one like that. I guess it happens sometimes that one of them is born with the white hair. It’s considered lucky.”

“So, back to my earlier question. Why haven’t I seen anybody like this before?” he asked.

“Like I said, they hide. They hide really well. One of them could be here in the cafe with us and we wouldn’t be able to tell if they had their makeup on.”

“They aren’t hiding in your photos,” Dr. Ames objected.

“No, they aren’t,” I agreed. “Emmy’s parents brought her up out in the open. They figured that it was time to try to integrate into society and not to hide any longer. Emmy and I have been convincing some of these others to ditch the makeup and come out of hiding, too.”

“This is incredible,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee, only to realize it had gotten cold while we talked. He made a disgusted face and stood up to get the two of us fresh cups. When he returned, he asked “Do you think I could meet some of them?”

“I’m sure it could be arranged,” I answered, pleased at how well he was taking it all in. I took a sip of the fresh cup and asked “Um, I don’t want to seem rude, but I have to ask. Why do you want to meet them?”

“Honestly,” he responded after giving it a moment’s thought. “Curiosity, I guess. It completely blows my mind that these people could hide so well that they could remain virtually unknown in this day and age.”

“Well, actually, that’s why Emmy’s parents chose to break with their culture and live out in the open. They’re convinced that they, as a group, won’t be able to hide much longer anyway, so they’d better get used to the idea of being out in the open.”

“I can see that,” Dr. Ames agreed, nodding.

“Emmy and I have been doing what we can to convince others to come out of hiding, and it’s been slow. I mean, it’s going against their cultural traditions from farther back than anybody can remember, so it’s a big shift for them. Emmy was raised that way, but for the rest of them it’s an incredibly frightening prospect to expose themselves.” I paused for a sip of coffee and found the picture I wanted on my phone. “There have been some successes, like the couple in this picture at Six Flags. Donny and Sana are living together and planning on making a life together. The little girl you saw in some of the other photos was living with her father in hiding, homeless and scraping by, living in an abandoned building in the East Bay. Now he has a job and she’s going to school for the first time in her life and making friends who don’t care that she looks so different.”

“I guess you’ve had some setbacks, too,” Dr. Ames acknowledged.

I understood he was talking about Emmy’s visit to the emergency room, and I had to agree. “Yeah, well. We knew that when Emmy put herself in the public eye with her music that she might draw that kind of attention. It was a risk that we knew we had to face.”

“She could well have been killed,” he said, his voice gentle and compassionate. It made me like him even more, so I decided to share some more information with him.

“Emmy’s family is very influential in their society,” I said. “They see it as their duty to bring their people out of the shadows, no matter what resistance they might have to deal with.” I sipped my coffee, then added “I knew this when I proposed to her. I knew it, and told her that I would do whatever I could. Honestly, although I hoped there wouldn’t be any violence, at the same time I can’t say I’m too surprised. I just hope that there isn’t any more.”

“I saw your little press conference this morning,” the doctor said. “You were quite impressive. You were clear; you weren’t emotional even though it was obvious you were quite angry. You stated the facts and didn’t speculate on motives, leaving it up to the listener to draw their own conclusions. It was very well done. You handled yourself better than most professionals. You look young, but you seem very mature,” Dr. Ames said.

“Thanks, I guess. I’ve never really had a problem with public speaking, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you? I’d guess maybe twenty?”

“Emmy and I just finished our freshman year at Stanford. In a few months I’ll turn nineteen,” I told him.

“You are amazingly mature for your age,” Dr. Ames mused. “I wish my kids had your level of maturity, and they’re ten years older,” he chuckled.

We sat there for a few minutes, when a thought occurred to me.

“Doctor,” I started to say, but he interrupted me.

“Jake,” he said. “Please, call me Jake.”

Liking him even more, I continued. “Jake, then. My name is Leah. Anyway, I was going to ask, do you have a practice outside of the hospital? The reason I ask is that I’d like to find a doctor for these people, a doctor who would show some sensitivity to their situation.”

“I don’t have my own practice, but I do put in a couple of days a week at a clinic down in Hayward, if that helps.”

“I was hoping for more of a private office type thing,” I confessed. “Most of them have never been to see a doctor in their lives, and even a small clinic might be very stressful for them.”

Thinking about it for a minute, Dr. Ames finally said “I can understand that. Let me see what I can do. I may be able to set something up.”

“If it makes any difference, if money is an issue, I’d be happy to do what I can. I can rent an office, if it’s necessary, or something like that.”

Surprised, Dr. Ames asked “You would rent a doctor’s office for this?”

“Well, yeah, if it helps.”

“Rent in a medical professional's building is extremely expensive. Typically it’d be a year lease, and you’d be talking about twenty-five hundred or more a month.”

“Well, and you’d need some staff, even if it was just a single nurse, right?” I asked, thinking about the numbers.

“You’d do that? We’re talking about a minimum of forty, fifty thousand a year!” Dr. Ames asked.

“Sure, if I had the right doctor, who would also have to be paid to make it worth his time,” I agreed.

“How much money would you be willing to throw at this?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I hadn’t even given it any thought up until just now.”

Leaning back, Dr. Ames asked “So, I guess you have money?”

“Um, yeah, we do,” I confessed. “Enough for something like this, no problem.”

“I’ll tell you what. The free clinic I volunteer at could use all the funding it can get. If you could steer some of that money in their direction, I can make certain that any of these people gets a private consultation. It might have to be outside regular hours, though.”

My respect for the guy went through the roof for turning away cash like that in favor of helping the poor. “Yeah, that could work,” I agreed. “If I write them a check for, say, a hundred grand, do you think that would be enough?”

Jake’s eyes bugged out of his head at that, and he nearly choked on his coffee. “You’d drop that kind of cash…” he spluttered.

“Yeah, I would, if I thought it would help. I’d write that check right now if you thought we could work something out,” I explained. “As I said, these people hide, and one of the things that they just don’t do is seek medical attention. We need to bring them into society, and that means checkups, shots, and all that. So yeah, if you could arrange it so the clinic could open after hours on certain days for them to come in, I’d be happy to make a donation.”

“You know what? I’ll make it happen,” Dr. Ames said. Taking out his phone, he said “Give me your number. I’ll call you and let you know all the details. We also have a dental clinic, which might be a good thing for these friends of yours, as well.”