Saving Marlilyn

By Christy Cauley

If you could travel back in time to save someone’s life, would you do it? Whose life would you save? These were questions Claire Callahan asked herself. "Yes," was her first answer, and "Marilyn Monroe" was the second. But she forgot one tiny question, “What about the repercussions?”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christy Cauley
• Release date: Jul 20, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452446875

Christy Cauley

Christy Cauley, M.Ed., has a bachelor's in communications and a master's in education. She has been freelance writing since 1997. She writes articles, short stories, poetry and has been published in three books (other than her own). She was a movie reviewer for Westsider Magazine and Movie Mania. She was also a bi-weekly columnist of “Old Wives Tales” in the Harrison Press. Christy was the editor-in-chief and writer for Shock Value Music Magazine and continues to write freelance articles.

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Disclaimer: Although some of the characters in this book are based on actual people, these accounts are purely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. The depictions of historical people should not be taken as an accurate account of any person's life.

Saving Marilyn by Christy Cauley

28,179 words

ISBN-13: 978-1-4524-4687-5

© 2011 Christy J. Cauley www.ChristyCauley.com

As always, I owe this book to the most amazing husband a woman could ever ask for, Joseph Cauley. He designed the cover, provided hours upon hours of technical support (yes, he knows how to build a time machine – theoretically anyway) and has always been my number one editor. This book would never have been possible without you. My life would not have been possible without you. I love you dearly.

Special thanks to my friends and family for their support and encouragement. Thank you as always our nephews, Jeremy, Jason and Justin for making our house a home!

Dedicated in loving memory to our children,

Gwendolyn and Gabriel Cauley (www.GwenAndGabe.com).

Chapter 1 – Loki

Claire Callahan and her husband, Auggie, were at their usual positions, both in front of their respective computers. The twenty-first century had sprung nearly a decade earlier and they were the poster children for new technology. Every technical gadget that a middle class family could afford graced their living quarters. In the 90s, they were the first family on the block to have a computer, the first with internet access, and so on. Now their house looks more like the headquarters for Microsoft than anything else. Most of these high-tech decorations can be attributed to Auggie’s testosterone-driven need to have the latest and greatest everything, but Claire enjoys all of the amenities just the same.

Claire is average height and built solid like a brick wall. At thirty-something, she has friendly, emerald green eyes with the beginnings of tiny lines on the sides that crinkle every time she smiles. Her hair is short, brunette, and perfectly sculpted into a wedge like the one Dorothy Hamill sported when she won a Gold medal in figure skating during the 1976 Olympics. Claire was six then and she dreamed of gliding on the ice at 70-miles-per-hour while the breeze sent ripples through her hair. Unfortunately, her butt was always too big for those little figure skating outfits, so she settled for softball instead. She wasn’t the best player, but the friendships she forged meant more to her than winning or losing. Boys weren’t falling all over themselves to date girls on the softball team, but it kept her butt from getting any larger, so it was win/win.

Claire is a claims investigator for Brentwood Insurance. She longs for big cases, like investigating the death of a client to see if the claim of death of natural causes was actually a murder-for-hire plot hatched by the client’s spouse, but in reality she was buried in case after case of minor auto and house insurance fraud investigations. During her last case, she spent 12 hours staked out in her car taking pictures of a man through the bay window in his living room. He was playing games on a PS3 that he claimed was stolen during a burglary. Claire often found herself bored by the tediousness of her job.

Auggie is tall and fair with a sweet, dimpled smile and crystal blue eyes like the shallow part of the ocean drifting onto a Hawaiian beach. He dons a perfectly trimmed beard and moustache that bear a striking resemblance to Commander Riker on "Star Trek, the Next Generation." He has the hands of an artist, small and soft, but his feet are like an NBA player’s, at size fourteen-and-a-half. He wears the same pair of shoes with almost every outfit. They’re plain black sneakers with no laces and no brand name. He even wears them to work. Auggie is a materials engineer for the government. He hates shopping for shoes. In fact, he hates shopping for anything except gadgets and gismos. His love of technology began in high school. He came to school early to set up equipment that would be used for the day and stayed late to put it away. Auggie was an absolute AV geek.

Auggie is from Encino, Claire from Sherman Oaks. They met in college at UCLA. She was a criminal justice major, while he was an engineering student. They married soon after graduation and neither wanted children. When Claire’s parents told them they were moving, Claire jumped at the chance to buy her grand parents’ home. It was one of the oldest houses in Brentwood. Anyone else would have torn it down and built a cookie-cutter mini-mansion on the property. Claire refused to allow that to happen.

Together, she and Auggie were the ultimate geek couple. From the "Star Trek" decor in the living room to the collection of sci-fi movies in the family room, and shelves upon shelves of books in the den, they are nerds through and through. Auggie spends hours online playing multi-player games while Claire chats away on the Internet or updates her blog on MySpace. Even when they are offline, they’re usually still in front of their computers.

On this day, Auggie was playing a first-person shooter while Claire was chatting in MM Fans on Yahoo. They donned headphones to shield one another from their musical choices. Auggie was bouncing his head up and down to Frank Sinatra while Claire was listening to her favorite Marilyn Monroe CD for the ten millionth time. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, she mouthed, while typing away in cyber oblivion.

Marilyn Monroe was an idol to Claire, but more than that, she was a way of life. To Claire, Marilyn Monroe represented all that was beautiful in the world and everything that Claire wished she could be. Claire always thought about her own athletic build, her tough exterior, and her tomboyish personality as a detriment. She considered her looks to be Plain Jane at best. Anything and everything that made her who she was, she either didn’t like, thought could be better, or just plain hated. She believed that all of those failings could be demolished if she could just be more like Marilyn.

What do I like best about MM? Claire read to herself. Her way with people, she typed in the chat room. Most of the regulars responded, LOL, because they thought she was joking. Come on, Claire, surely you jest, offered Wonky4U. I’m totally serious, began her reply, "Men wanted her and women wanted to be her. It wasn’t just because of her looks. She had both genders eating out of the palm of her hand. Confident in her explanation, she sat back and watched the debate continue while continuing to lip-sync Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend," in harmony with her CD.

I agree with Claire, began SluttyGirl4U2nite.

Claire, she thought to herself, Why did I tell these people my real name? Claire was named after her great-aunt who had passed away very young while giving birth to a son. Claire always resented being named for her. It seemed more like a curse than a compliment. So you’re saying I’m doomed to die young? she asked her mother about her choice of names. Her mother, being the old fashioned, carry-on-the-family-name type was insulted by the suggestion. It’s possible that being her aunt’s namesake inspired her determination not to have a family, the very thing her mother wanted most for her. The topic of children was always the main source of most of their arguments.

Claire hated how ordinary her name was. CL-AIRE! her fifth-grade homeroom teacher would yell in the worst nasal voice you can possibly imagine. The sound of it always sent shivers up her spine. Claire always wanted something different, like Rain, Cassidy or Christyanna; something original that no one else had. Even Clarisse would have been an improvement. That’s the name she gave on the phone when she was pretending to be something she wasn’t. "Yes, this is Clarisse," just sounded so much more mature, and less athletic. The ultimate would have been Marilyn, of course, after her idol, but alas, she was just Claire.

As she scanned the letters of her name on the screen, the demons in her