Vacation in Naples

I.-3

Niki could already hear the girl’s whiny voice. Jesus Christ. Of all people, why did she have to get this assignment? Maybe she just happened to run into Anna at the wrong time.

She pulled her iPhone from her pocket. She would use the voice recorder in the phone to get the interview down. Suddenly, she felt as if the memory of her trip had been blown far away. She was plunked back down in a different world, her old world, where people did not lie around with tropical cocktails under beach umbrellas in bikinis and straw hats, and their greatest dilemma was not deciding which dinner option to choose on the cruise ship. As this idea slid into her mind, another one followed in its wake. The memory came to her like a cool, gentle breeze. She saw the image of herself very clearly, on an unfamiliar island in a little bungalow. A voice began to sing and when she heard it, she felt shivers down her spine… It was the voice of Carol Santos, or her incarnation, but actually, Niki had no idea who that slightly hoarse, deep voice belonged to… Carol Santos could see memories: the memories of others. She could, supposedly, instinctively alleviate pain. On her own little island, she had the ability to make the painful memories of others disappear. Santos was born in the beginning of the 1900s and allegedly heals even today… unless it’s her mysterious “incarnation” who has taken over in the meantime. Many still make the pilgrimage to the Caribbean in an attempt to seek out Carol Santos and find her reportedly existing “island of happiness.” According to accounts circulating on the Internet, some succeed in locating her; while on her Caribbean cruise, Niki also managed to find her way to this enigmatic island where Carol, or the successor who might be carrying on her legacy, helped a few chosen ones let go of their distressing memories. Niki stood among them, and though it was an unbelievable story she merely wanted to investigate for an article on debunking a legend, the magic worked on her too.

Niki was jolted back to reality and realized that the memory must have become rooted deep inside her, because she was no longer angry with Luca Lengyel, or even Anna for giving her the assignment. The cool breeze of memory departed and a cluster of heat began to glow within her. She didn’t understand what was happening, and in order to overcome her bewilderment, she leaned against the railing in the stairwell. She browsed the news on her phone, scrolling absentmindedly, until something caught her eye: Two Hungarian men had been taken into custody in Italy while attempting to import several dozen dogs with fake papers. According to the article, some suspect that the dogs would have been skinned for their fur. Niki shuddered. Could such a thing be possible in this day and age, in a civilized European country? The thought gripped her and would not let go, even after she hurried down the steps to conduct the commissioned assignment.

The dog. Of course. Luca had a dog, just as Niki had predicted to Anna. The interview would run its course exactly as she’d described, and except for a few minor details, the girl would probably be the same as all the others.

Niki stepped into the studio, and a dog scuttled out to greet her. Then, she heard a female voice.

“Marzipan! Come back here!”

The dog had thick, golden–brown fur. It was adorable as it pranced back into the studio, shaking it’s little bootie. Niki followed the dog and couldn’t stop thinking about the article she’d read back in the stairwell. In the studio, two women were trying to choose between various colored backgrounds. Voices could be heard filtering out from somewhere deeper inside, and the dog headed straight for a back room.

Luca Lengyel was an average girl with blonde hair. At first, Niki thought she was one of the staff. Luca sat cross–legged on the floor in blue jeans, a gray sweater, and sneakers, deliberating between outfits the stylist was showing her. The dog hunkered down on the floor beside her and licked her hand gently. Luca smiled at the dog, then looked up at Niki.

“I’m here for the interview. Nikolett Ladányi,” Niki said, introducing herself.

Suddenly, she didn’t feel so repelled by the situation anymore. Meeting face to face had flipped a switch in her mind.

“You’re Nikolett Ladányi?” the girl’s eyes lit up, and Niki felt embarrassed, so she just nodded. “I’ve read your articles on the net about that bastard. The one who forced girls into prostitution.”

“Umm… yes.”

“I was happy when I read that they’d finally caught him. I’m glad they sent you for the interview, though I don’t much feel like talking about myself… but, well… whatever,” she mumbled, and pointed to a stunning, sky–blue blouse. She turned to the stylist and said, “that one looks nice.”

“This is for a March issue. The color is a bit out of season. It’s too wintry, but let’s try a series in it anyway. Maybe you could try on this warmer, peach color,” she said, showing Luca a body–hugging top. She turned towards the clothes rack and removed a skirt which – in Niki’s opinion – had a strange, bell–shaped cut. “This would go perfectly with the top.”

Niki watched as Luca got dressed and sat down in the make–up chair. Now would be the perfect time to conduct the interview, but she hated when the make–up artists and the hair–stylists eavesdropped. Sometimes they even offered their two cents or asked questions… So Niki just sat around and watched. She was surprised that Luca knew her name and that she’d read the series of articles published about Verbovszky on the news site where Niki was a regular contributor.

As she sat there watching the girl, she was trying to figure out what was so unique about her. It was so odd seeing popular models without make–up. They were usually ordinary–looking; some might have been described as “interesting” rather than beautiful. Luca had a pretty face, but it wasn’t anything special. Niki didn’t think the model was any prettier than she was, though she’d never really given her appearance much thought. While she sat there playing with the dog’s ears, she realized that the best way she could quickly learn about the girl was to read what others had written about her on the net. She pulled out her phone and typed Luca’s name into the search bar.

There weren’t too many hits, mostly images of catwalks and magazine covers. Niki was stunned by how gorgeous this ordinary–looking woman looked as a cover girl. She kept scrolling and found two snippets of news from 2010, two years ago.

Model Awakens from Coma

The twenty–eight year–old model, Luca Lengyel, spent six years in a “waking coma” following an accident. Recently, she miraculously regained consciousness and left the institute where she was treated. She was found residing in London, but her agency would not allow interviews, claiming that the model was still recovering from the psychological impacts of her experience, and would therefore be removing herself from public appearances for a while.

Niki looked at the photos of Luca from her prime. Niki never would have thought she was thirty. She looked much younger, her face hardly creased by age. She seemed more like a schoolgirl than a woman.

And in a coma for six years?!

She found a few more articles about Luca in English. Niki was surprised to see that the model worked for a foundation based in England offering legal advice and support to vulnerable girls. The short article presented Luca as a representative of the foundation, and she explained how Ukrainian girls were promised modeling jobs abroad. Upon arrival, their “agents” forced them to work as prostitutes in England. Niki looked up at Luca and thought maybe this interview would be interesting after all.

Niki kept up her guard in spite of her interest. As an ex–PR manager she had a hard time letting go of her prejudice against stars. But when she thought about this attitude, she felt ashamed. She was usually so open and combatant, so why did she hate glossed–up, vacuous interviews? There was no denying that a reporter was just as much a player in the interview–game as the subject. The end result depended on both of them.

“Did you remember everything after you woke up from the coma?”

“No. I thought I did, but… I needed time to regain my memory. And my feelings especially. A huge void opened where my emotions had once been, and I had to fill it with content again. I had to acknowledge that I’d worked as a model in the past, and it was a lifestyle much different than the one I deem acceptable now,” the girl explained.

Her make–up was now wiped away and the photo lights in the studio were turned off. She’d used up half a packet of face wipes before she succeeded in rubbing off all the foundation. She looked attentively at Niki, while the dog lounged at her feet and rested its head on her shoes.

“So you mean that your personality changed?”

“No. I don’t know… Things I used to think were important aren’t anymore.”

“Do you remember the accident?”

“No.”

“Nothing at all?”

“I’d rather not talk about it. Everything changed after. I spent six years in a coma, and my parents were probably the only ones who believed in my recovery, though they didn’t have much to go on. And when I finally did regain consciousness, it never occurred to me to go back to my former life.”

“But now you’ll be appearing in Mademoiselle.”

“Yes. Someone talked me into it, convinced me to talk about the person I am now, and about my work. I’m especially pleased you were the one who came, because I know you are receptive to a topic very important to me right now,” said Luca slowly.

She began telling Niki about the girls she’d helped out while working at the foundation. She explained about deceived girls who were promised modeling work abroad and were then forced to work in strip bars or even as prostitutes instead. The foundation’s job is to help these women find their way back into normal life, where there are no modeling jobs. They are offered a chance to learn a new language or to take part in various other types of vocational training with the help of subsidized funding.

Well, this is turning out to be a PR–interview after all, probably financed by the foundation, Niki thought. No problem, just as long as Luca tells some stories.

And she did. She told her stories with such conviction that the alarm bell in Niki’s mind started clanging: This woman knows what she’s talking about because she lived through it… either that, or she experienced something very similar. She couldn’t let go of the thought that Luca might have been a victim too. She spoke in a neutral tone, but her lips drained of color as she related the stories of Hungarian, Romanian, Ukrainian, and Czech girls who had been tricked… She seemed outwardly calm, but defiance and pain cried out from her very being. I have to ask, thought Niki.

“Did… did something similar happen to you?” she interrupted. Luca stiffened, clearly unable to move or speak. The silence was nearly palpable. “It’s okay,” said Niki finally. You don’t have to say anything, you know that.”

The girl nodded and answered only yes or no to the questions that followed for the next few minutes. The right moment had passed. Niki knew that she should press on, ask questions, encourage Luca to say more… to tell her story… it’s what she would have done with anyone else, but with Luca, she would have felt ashamed. If the interview turned out boring, so be it. Niki wouldn’t compel anyone to talk about how they’d been r***d or forced to work in a strip bar if they didn’t want to open up.

Perhaps out of gratitude for letting the topic slide, Luca told her that she lived in London with a Hungarian young man and that both of them were on the right path towards making their dreams come true.

A little while later, Niki was back in Anna’s office.

“How did it go?” asked the editor–in–chief before turning to the topic of Niki’s next assignment.

“It could have been better. But I’ve got enough for a one–page piece.”

“I really wanted to get her. If this turns out well, maybe her friend will agree to an interview too. It would be a huge deal if we could put her on a cover. She talked Luca into doing this interview, so maybe she’d let us talk to her too.”