It was a glorious day on the set. Little Katie Holmes was sitting on a pouf, having her hair dressed and chatting with the older girl wielding the comb. Her brother had just returned from two years in the Peace Corps, where he'd been sent to one of the remotest corners of Africa.

"And he also brought me back a carved bowl that's supposed to be magic. It's a Love Vessel. Anything you serve in it becomes a love potion."

The girls giggled together. Katie loved filming outdoors. Today, they were working on background shots in the green, rolling hills of central California. It was the California of happy cow fame, and Katie looked forward to riding the black and white pony they were using in the next shots. Tomorrow, they'd be back inside the trailers again.

"You should bring some of those so I can see them tomorrow," Katie told Ginger, the hairdresser.

"Well, some of them are kind of rude, like those statues of the men with the big, um, you know," she giggled madly. "They're this tall, see, but they stick out to here!" She held her fingers apart.

"Oh. OH!" Katie exclaimed, and giggled into her hands. "Maybe you should bring one of those to show Ron over there."

"I'll bring a couple of items that my brother swears are magical. Oh, Geoffrey's waving. I think they're ready for you now."

The next morning, Ginger handed Katie a plastic bag as she plopped down on the pouf to get her hairdo rearranged.

"What's this?" she said eagerly, pawing through the bag. "Oh, is this the Vessel of Love?" She extracted a bowl, slightly larger than a cereal bowl. It had lusty animals and couples burned and carved into the wood in an intricate, erotic design. "Hmmm, I can see how the love potion idea would arise from this."

Ginger snickered. "Arise. You said, 'arise.' Heh heh heheheh heh." She used her best Beavis and Butthead imitation. Katie bounced on the pouf, she was a little crackling ball of energy. "And what's this?" her hand swooped into the bag and drew out a shrivelled piece of dried animal. Inspecting it closely, she spotted little fingernails embedded in the flesh. and she realized she was holding an amputated monkey's paw.

"Oh my god!" she shrieked, and spasmodically flungit across the makeup counter.

"No!" yelled Ginger, diving at the paw to snatch it up before one of the crew members got hold of it. She looked at Katie apologetically as she stroked its black and white fur. "If I lost this, my brother would never forgive me," she explained. She held it up and eyed it closely. "Grotesque little thing, isn't it?" she commented. "Nigel says it's a wishing paw. Whatever you wish for will come true. It's supposed to come from this one species of rare monkey that drinks blood. The people sincerely believe in it." She moved to put the monkey hand in her pocket.

"No, wait," Katie said. "I want to make a wish on it!" She giggles girlishly.

"Well, okay," Ginger hands her the paw. "Just be careful what you ask for, and how you ask for it. Be specific, is all."

"Okay," Katie replies, smiling sweetly and letting her gaze linger on the poster of Tom Cruise taped to her closet door. Then she squinches her eyes shut tight, and clutches the monkey paw to her breast. Suddenly she jumps, and the paw falls to the floor. "It moved!" she cries. I felt it move when I made a wish!"

At Katie's request, Ginger puts the paw away, out of sight. It really makes both of them a bit uncomfortable. After a few minutes, Ginger gives Katie a nudge with her shoulder. "Well?" she demands. "What did you wish for?"

Katie giggles as her eyes slide toward the poster of Tom Cruise. "Oh no, you di'ent!" cries Ginger gleefully. "I hope you were specific enough, Katie."

"Oh, I was," she hides her grin behind her hand. "He will fall madly in love with me, and I will have his baby. If this thing works, ooooh! He's MINE!"

"Did you wish he'd marry you?" Ginger asks. Katie looks blank. She doesn't remember.

The two girls spend a bit of time indulging in earthy humor, as raunchy as girls of that class are likely to get.

With a "bye!" and a swing of her shining hair, Katie is gone for the day. Something is bothering Ginger. Her brother had said something about the paw, that a warning came with the wish. The warning, what was it? Something about not getting what you wished for in the way that you'd expect. Oh, well, there was no point in mentioning it to Katie. After all, it was just superstitious nonsense anyway. Ginger dismissed the monkey's paw from her mind. It did not come to mind again until Tom Cruise turned Oprah's couch into a trampoline for the delivery of his declaration of love. And of course, by that time, it was too late.

(Of course, you have to be familiar with the story, 'The Monkey's Paw' by W. W. Jacobs to get this. It occurred to me that the recent pix of her not looking so well or happy suggests the type of relationship the Monkey's Paw was likely to offer)

--
--barb
Chaplain,ARSCC
xenubarb@netscape.net

"Imagine a church so dangerous, you must sign a release form before you can receive its "spiritual assistance." This assistance might involve holding you against your will for an indefinite period, isolating you from friends and family, and denying you access to appropriate medical care. You will of course be billed for this treatment - assuming you survive it. If not, the release form absolves your caretakers of all responsibility for your suffering and death.

Welcome to the 'Church' of Scientology."

--Dr. Dave Touretzky Peter Alexander

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