Ghost Time

some plants and the most outrageous view of Paris? She steps outside, one morning, waking up, and watching her do that, just that bit, your first thought is how fucking good it is to be this girl, excuse my French , she said. I was putting a pillow under my head, but then I almost fell off her bed, I was laughing so hard. But Mel was on a tear: Then Violaine turns back inside, and you see her vanity with her perfume bottles and her jewelry, and there are gorgeous shoes everywhere, and records and books and magazines….
    Listening to Mel, it really felt like she was giving me a tour of this girl’s life, and I could see it, but all I could think was, Where is this all coming from? She goes, Oh, and it’s slow, and sexy, and the whole film follows her exploring all these bars and jazz clubs in Paris, and that’s how we learn what she’s running from, starting a life in Paris.
    I go, You’re right, it’s genius. Violaine is running from her past by going back in time. Clever, very clever, and Mel goes, Of course: Violaine is a revolutionary, a Marxist. I go, What kind of Marxist hides out in the Louvre, wearing five-inch heels? Mel said, Ohmygod. She goes, Why, a Miuccia Prada Marxist , and I had to laugh. Wait, wait—there’s our title , she said. The Prada Marxiste! she said, clapping. Can’t you see it, Thee? And I could, too. It was like a brainstorm, only stronger, the way she was describing everything. I could see all the pictures in her head just like it was a movie.
    Okay, but wait, I said. How do we figure it out, whatever it is she’s running from? And she goes, I don’t know. What matters is that her life—Violaine’s life is… different than ours. I mean, can’t one teenage girl in this world create a charmed life for herself that we can all dream about and share? Doesn’t someone get to escape reality and live an incredible life somewhere, in some dimension, even if it’s only for a couple hours in a movie theater? Because if that’s not possible, how else are we going to get through all this, you know?
    I didn’t say anything, thinking it over, and then I just had to ask again, But what’s she running from? Mel goes, Something awful she did , and I go, Give me an example of something so awful she could have done that would make her run away all the way back in time? Mel goes, I don’t know. Maybe she screwed around on her boyfriend and got pregnant from another guy and she had an abortion and then her boyfriend found out, and he was completely devastated—. Okay, easy, I said, holding up my hands, not at all prepared. I’m just saying , she said, and I go, I know, but that’s pretty intense. Mel goes, Well, there has to be a clear motive why she would give up her entire life and go back in time. Because the thing about time travel is, there’s no guarantee she’ll make it back to her old life ever again. There might be no way back to the future, you know, so it’d have to be something pretty intense, right? Maybe she’s traveling in Ghost Time, I said, thinking about what it could be, what a person could do that would be so horrible they’d leave their own time forever, and Mel perked up. What’s Ghost Time? I didn’t even realize I’d spokenout loud. Nothing, I said, smiling, trying to think of what to say to change the subject, but I couldn’t think of anything. It was okay, though; she left it alone. I don’t know how Mel knew, but I could see on her face that she knew it was something to do with Cam. Sometimes she’s really good at knowing when not to ask a question—not often, but that was one of those times.
    Knox knocked and stuck his head in the door before I even had a chance to say come in, so annoying. Then, on second thought, I said, Knox, you’re just in time, actually, and he looked curious, smiling, included. I said, We’re working on a script about a completely gorgeous girl who goes back in time, changes her name to Violaine, and lives in Paris in April 1968. And being a cop, you’d have some idea, so, the questions is, what is something so awful that a girl could do that she’d go back in time, never to see anyone she loves, the people she most loves in the entire world, ever again? He smiled, sort of chuckled about that one, because there I was, trying to bring him in and share, which is what he wanted more than anything, to be included. On the other hand, he deemed the entire situation completely fucked up. So.
    Let me ask you this, he said, and