One Door From Heaven

when she'd been young and French and adored-and Audrey Hepburn.
        What a wonderfully unpredictable world it is when being shot in the head can have an up side.
        That was Geneva's line, not Micky's, an argument for optimism when Micky grew pessimistic. What a wonderfully unpredictable world it is, Micky, when being shot in the head can have an up side. In spite of an embarrassing moment of confusion now and then, it's delightful to have so many glamorous and romantic memories to draw upon in my old age! I'm not recommending brain damage, mind you, but without my quirky little short circuit, I would never have loved and been loved by Gary Grant or Jimmy Stewart, and I'd certainly never have had that wonderful experience in Ireland with John Wayne!
        Leaving Aunt Gen to her fond memories of John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart, or possibly even of Uncle Vernon, Micky left by the front door. She didn't call "Good morning" through the open window, because she was embarrassed to face her aunt. Although Geneva knew that her niece had missed two job interviews, she would never mention this new failure. Gen's bottomless tolerance only sharpened Micky's guilt.
        Last evening, she'd left the Camaro's windows open two inches; nevertheless, the interior was sweltering. The air conditioning didn't work, so she drove with the windows all the way down.
        She switched on the radio, only to hear a newsman describing, in excited tones, a government-enforced blockade affecting a third of Utah, related to an urgent search for some drug lords and their teams of heavily armed bodyguards. Thirty powerful figures in the illegal drug trade had gathered secretly in Utah to negotiate territorial boundaries as Mafia families had done decades ago, to plan a war against smaller operators, and to devise strategies to overcome importation problems created by a recent tightening of the country's borders. Having learned of this criminal conclave, the FBI moved in to make mass arrests. They were met with an unusual level of violence instead of with the usual volleys of attorneys; the battle had been as fearsome as a clash of military factions. Perhaps a dozen of these drug kingpins were now on the run with highly sophisticated weaponry and with nothing to lose, and they posed a serious threat to the citizenry. Most of these details had not been released by the FBI but had been obtained from unnamed sources. Crisis, the reporter said, using the word repeatedly and pronouncing it as if he found those two syllables as delectable as a lover's breast.
        When it wasn't about natural disasters and lunatics shooting up post offices, the news was an endless series of crises, most of which were either wildly exaggerated or entirely imaginary. If ten percent of the crises that the media sold were real, civilization would have collapsed long ago, the planet would be an airless cinder, and Micky would have no need to look for a job or worry about Leilani Klonk.
        She punched a preset button, changing stations, found more of the same news story, punched another button, and got the Backstreet Boys. This wasn't exactly her style of music, but the Boys were fun and likely to facilitate her hangover cure.
        No news is good news - which is true no matter which of the two possible interpretations you choose to make of those five words.
        Cruising up the freeway ramp, remembering Leilani's term from their conversation the previous evening, Micky said, "Proud to be one of the twelve-percenters," and found her first smile of the day.
        She had three and a half hours before her interview, and she intended to use this time to get Child Protective Services involved in the girl's case. Last night, when she and Geneva had discussed Leilani, the girl's predicament seemed irresolvable. This morning, either because time brought a better perspective or because too much lemon vodka followed by chocolate doughnuts inspired a measure of optimism, the situation seemed difficult, but not beyond hope.

Chapter 34
        
        LEILANI KLONK, dangerous young mutant, decided that few things were more inspiring than the bonding that occurred when an American family gathered around the breakfast table. Only the night before, Mom and Dad and daughter might have been fussing at one another over who had left the lid off the peanut-butter jar, might have been in disagreement about weightier issues such as whether to watch Touched