Maxene, stunning star of the silver screen, I love you. You are luminous. Your skin glows. There is a burnished sheen to your hair. You are beautiful. You are also beguiling. A complex personality with an amazing acting range. I loved you in 1938. You played a Polish prostitute who hides a Jewish family. I cried when the bullet pierced your skin. I liked you far less in Star Escapade. You were in a boxy spacesuit for most of it. Yes. I admit I was yearning to see more of your skin. And then you played Mata Hari. God. You were impeccable. I’ve seen all your movies. Many times over. And over.
I’m plotting to abduct you. I have no choice. I can’t stand us being apart. I’m not an impressive man. I know this. But I know you would fall in love with me. I’m not ugly. I fix cable lines. I do well enough that I could support us.
It’s October. You’re in Miami for a film premiere. You are staying in South Beach. I drive from Orlando. I wait outside the theater. I knock your chauffeur on the back of his head and pull him out. I put on his clothes and wait. Two hours later you enter the limo. I can see the glint of your silver heels. I rush to the highway.
“Where are we going?” You look confused.
“Don’t be scared. I’m taking you to live with me.” You still look confused but say nothing. When I arrive at the shed in the swamp I pull you out. I don’t see fear in your eyes. This makes me excited. I think you really want to be with me. I serve you soup. You won’t eat.
“Eat,” I say. You will not open your mouth. I get angry. You are fighting making a home with me. I try to pour soup down your throat. Your eyes get large and then I hear a sizzle. Your limbs flail. You slump forward. I notice a line on your back. I press my fingers against it and a small flap opens. You are full of circuits. I’m scared, then appalled, then angry. You’re a robot. Who’s controlling you? I get this mad idea that whoever is controlling you is who I really love. I leave you by the side of a road and call the Miami Sentinel. The next day the whole world knows you’re a robot. The scientist who created you emerges. She’s plain. Ordinary. Mousy hair. Mousy eyes. She is Maxene. Maxene is her. I begin making plans to abduct the scientist. I think I love her.
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