Just Rebecca

(Part 1) [This week's "As the Pegasus Flies"] Rebecca was always the young one, the kid sister, the one teased and picked on, the one not allowed to join in with the older girls. Talked down to, not taken seriously--sometimes she felt downright invisible! That was her lot in life. Even now at this tea party at Reader's Digest she was the protege, the intern, the ingénue. She wasn't even given a cup of tea. At a tea party! Well, she wasn't a kid anymore. She wasn't as innocent or naive as people thought. And she was beginning to realize she had the one thing these busybody women didn't have: Youth. This thought empowered her. While she was climbing the ladder, these old biddies were on the way down. Or, at best, they were treading water (to mix metaphors). She was the future. She could make it work for her. But, first things first. Old Hag Mary had this laundry list of chores for her to do. Rebecca had to suck it up--for now. She knew her day would come. Patience. Patience.

(Part 2) Rebecca left the tea party holding the list, now slightly crumpled after she had a brief hissy fit when she exited the room. How was she to learn the ins and outs of publishing by picking up Mary's dry cleaning? It was hard enough for a woman to get ahead without other women holding you down. Well, one day women would rule publishing, and Rebecca intended to be a part of it. And she wouldn't be mean to her underlings! She intended make her first million by the time she was 30, 35 tops. Publishing was SO lucrative! Near the Rotunda, she turned a corner without looking and slammed into Lila Wallace. THE Lila Wallace. "Oh my god, Mrs. Wallace, I'm so sorry." Rebecca went to smooth out the front of Lila's business suit, but Lila stopped her. "No need, Miss...?" "Just Rebecca." Lila bent down and picked up the list Rebecca had dropped. She asked, "What's this?" "A 'to-do' list from my boss." Lila read the list. "Nothing on here pertains at all to publishing. Dry cleaning? The vet? This won't do. Follow me, I have something I want to share with you: My vision for the future of publishing." With a quick glance back over her shoulder, Rebecca followed Lila to her hidden office three floors down. Once there, a butler appeared and offered Rebecca a cup of tea, which she gladly accepted. It wasn't a Lipton tea bag either, but exotic Lapsang Souchong. Lila said, "So, Just Rebecca, this is what I need you to do..."

(Part 3) "Wait here," Lila said to Rebecca, then walked through a secret tunnel behind her bookcase and into DeWitt's office. (They had separate secret offices, just as they had separate bedrooms.) "We got a live one," Lila said to her husband DeWitt. "How old is she?" DeWitt asked. "Twenty-two. Just out of school. A real ingénue." After DeWitt consulted his dictionary, he said, "Do you think she'll do it? Can she do it, physically?" Lila said, "She's a perfect candidate." Lila went back through the tunnel and sat down behind her desk. She excused the butler, and when he was gone, she said, "Rebecca, my vision for the future of publishing is that the industry will be run exclusively by women." "That's my vision too!" said Rebecca. Lila continued, "The Max Perkinses, Hemingways, and Fitgeralds have had their day." "Is Mr. Wallace okay with this?" asked Rebecca. "Well, that part he doesn't know. But he is on board with the rest of my plan--the part I need you to do." Rebecca felt a little worried now. "And what's that?" she asked, fiddling with her necktie nervously. "Have you ever heard of cryogenics?" "No, what is it?" Lila said, "It's a new process the government is experimenting with. They freeze your body, then thaw you out at a later date. My friend Walt Disney is considering this. I plan on doing it myself, right here beneath the RD building. I will be revived in the year 2011, emerge from my chamber, take the elevator upstairs and reclaim my company. I have many ideas for the future of publishing that are too advanced for the current technology." "And what do I need to do?" "You, my dear, are going to be my chamber mate." "Your what now?" "My partner. You'll be my right hand when we awaken in 2011. You'll be the heir I never had." Rebecca asked, "What about Mr. Wallace?" Lila laughed an evil laugh. "My dear, he's a MAN! There is no room for him in my plan." Just then DeWitt came through the tunnel and grabbed Rebecca with his big paws, and began to drag her to the cryogenic chamber. "But I hate the cold!" Rebecca shouted. "Help!" Lila laughed again. "See you in 2011," she said.

(Part 4) [The conclusion to this week's "As the Pegasus Flies"] Rebecca was thrown into the capsule and strapped in by DeWitt. Before she knew what was happening, the door slammed shut. DeWitt peeked in at her through the round glass window; it was hard to read his expression. He took one last look, then disappeared. A moment later she heard a hissing sound and the chamber began to rapidly fill with cold air. She called out, but it was useless. Then...nothingness...not even dreams...time no longer mattered...years passed...She opened her eyes. The hissing again, this time slowing down, as if something was deflating. She undid the straps, reached a finger out and scraped some ice from the glass window. She half expected to see DeWitt's face again. She released the door, and it opened slowly, grudgingly. She stepped out into a room that now looked and smelled dusty, stale. Old. Could this be 2011? She saw another capsule and rushed over to it. The door was ajar, but there was no one inside. Had Lila gone through with her plan or not? Was Rebecca alone? She went to the bookcase and tried pulling several books before the panel opened. Then she was back in Lila's secret office. She left there and took a freight elevator up to the ground level and came out near a gym. A man with glasses said hello and handed her a flier printed on good quality color paper. Not interested in joining a gym, she continued, hoping to find someone else to talk to. She went up a flight of stairs to the next level. The building looked deserted. No art on the walls. No people bustling to and fro. She turned a corner and saw a man carrying some packages. "Excuse, me, is this still Reader's Digest?" "We just moved to White Plains. I'm here picking up the mail." Rebecca said, "Is this 2011?" "What--the year?" he asked. Then, "Whatever you're smoking, gimme some. It's 2010, you're off by a few months." Rebecca wondered if Lila could still be alive if she didn't freeze herself too. She considered saying to the man, Take me to your leader. The man said, "I'm going to White Plains now if you want a lift." "Sure, thanks." On the drive, Rebecca learned that Lila had died in 1984, DeWitt in 1981, and the company was now under new ownership. Walt Disney was cryogenically frozen and buried beneath the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland. "If you're looking for a job, I still may be able to get you a summer internship," the man said. Great, she thought, back where I started. She'd just have to begin again, work her way up. Patience, she told herself. Patience.