Hollywood Hills

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Once she got started, she couldn't put it down. Eli's thesis didn't read like any academic paper she'd ever read or heard of. Certainly, there were some obscure words and notions, as well as a few inscrutable theoretical patches written in the densest Academese, but it otherwise read as clearly and cleanly as any thriller or mystery novel.

Which is what it truly was. The thesis was long, nearly two-hundred pages, and analyzed portions of a thirteenth-century manuscript called Regensburg IX, for want of an actual title, which purported to chronicle the existence and activities of an ancient demon, or angel, that had dwelt upon the earth for many ages.

The first third of the thesis dealt with the manuscript itself, its history and its provenance, and that part was a thrill all its own. The anonymous work had been penned by a single hand, yet it was in three languages, and its style suggested no fewer than three authors took part in drafting it. The parchment on which it was written carbon-dated to somewhere in the thirteenth century, but its language, style, and diction absurdly suggested both a much earlier and a later date of composition. The story of the manuscript's ownership was downright notorious. Over the last eight-hundred years, it had been in the hands of a veritable murder's row of priests, princes, pagans, and patricians ... and even one wealthy nineteenth-century pornographer.

The subject matter of the manuscript was even more bizarre. According to Eli, it was one-part memoir, one-part interview, and another part a diatribe against the political order of the day and the heavenly order of the universe. Much of the story it told, in the voice of the angel/demon, was a history of the universe deeply at odds with the traditional Christian cosmology. It was fantastical and beautiful, both at the same time, and all of it thrilled her. Parts of it troubled her deeply.

She spent the better part of a day and night going over the thesis, spellbound, and, during the next weeks, went over it all again and again. She even dragged along her tablet to Vancouver and reread it in the slow moments during her three days on set. It filled in all the cracks in her life, the moments in which she had nothing else to do, few though those were at that time.

When she wasn't messing about with Eli's scholarly writing, her life had otherwise been a whirlwind. Nearly all her furniture was gone, auctioned off at a price she thought low but with which she was satisfied. She already had considered and rejected offers for both of her homes, had built a tentative budget for her life in the country, and had even developed some ideas and plans about how she might make her future living.

During that time, she thought of Eli often but scarcely saw him. Though they spoke on the phone or via text almost every day, her schedule and his hadn't coincided, save for a single short visit for coffee ten days before. It was why she was so excited to see him today. She was so eager, in fact, she could scarcely stand in one place.

And, yet, when he arrived at just before 7:00 in the morning, she met him in the driveway with the greatest dignity and aplomb she'd ever mustered. She was proud of herself for it and even had the fortitude to tease him casually after she tossed her bag in the back and took up her usual seat on the passenger side. They were taking another trip to the greater Lompoc metropolitan area.

"Hey, old guy, you heading to Lompoc?"

"I am, and I'm a registered sex offender. Want some candy?"

"Thanks, just the lift this time." On an impulse, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. For a moment, she thought he might turn into the kiss, but he didn't.

"Things must have gone very well in Vancouver."

"What? Can't I just be happy to see you?"

He said nothing, only smiled.