Scarecrow’s Dream by Flo Fitzpatrick Read Free Book Online Page A

took flight. My messenger through time. I watched him soar across the Henry Hudson Bridge, as my mind played back what I knew wasn’t some hallucination. It was a real memory.
    I’d met Shane Halloran. Kissed Shane Halloran. Back when I was alive. From the moment I’d seen him, I’d been in love with him.
    And still was more than forty years later.

Chapter Four
    Addie was home, sitting on the couch watching Sheridan Falls —which I’d left in the DVD player—while she spooned chocolate fudge brownie ice cream straight from the carton. No bowl or thinking required.
    I knocked on the door so she’d know I was in the room before announcing, “It was Shane Halloran.”
    She didn’t bother to ask what I was talking about. Smart woman. “I am somehow not a bit surprised. But then, I live with a ghost, so not much surprises me. How’d you figure it out?”
    I told her about my flashback to 1972 and the day I met Shane in the park. “Sadly the experience didn’t last very long. I wasn’t able to force any other memories, and I stayed in the park for three hours. Do you suppose I needed the eagle to run interference for me? He took off right after I returned from memory land.”
    “Oh ye of little faith, I have something just as good as an emissary eagle. Even better. The Internet. It’s search time. Prepare to be impressed.”
    “Far out! I keep forgetting about all the gadgets of the twenty-first century. Um, no offense, but since I’m impatient to know more about Mr. Halloran, and may I emphasize now ,let’s hit the computer.”
    “I live to serve. Let’s check out Mr. Halloran. I’m as curious as you are.”
    Addie placed the ice cream carton back on the coffee table. I picked it up and began devouring what remained. She got her laptop computer humming, then took us to a website called IMDB which apparently provided access to all things cinematic. She typed in Shane Halloran and within seconds brought up his profile.
    Adelaide read aloud. “‘Shane Halloran. Six-foot-two. African-American and Irish heritage. Curly black hair. Blue eyes.’”
    I corrected her. “Excuse me, change to piercing, inky-midnight-blue, as in melt-your-bones-into liquid-should-be-illegal-midnight-blue eyes.”
    “Oh my. The girl doth indeed got it bad.”
    “She doth. And she did. But go on.”
    She continued, “Born Shane Matthew Halloran in Ballybrack, Ireland in 1941. Father a schoolteacher who died right after World War Two. Mother, Renee Martine, originally from New Orleans, was a retired actress who performed at the famed Abbey Theatre in Dublin.” She scanned down to the next paragraph. “Mom must have pushed Shane into the business when he was a toddler or something, because he started acting in school productions before performing in professional theatres all over Great Britain from age ten on.”
    Addie coughed. I handed her what was left of her soda and she took a sip before returning to the bio. “Shane caught the eye of a major film director when he played Romeo opposite a white Juliet in a—and I quote—‘daring mixed-race production of Romeo and Juliet in London’s West End in 1956’—holy shit, he was fifteen—and was subsequently given a co-starring role in his first film in 1958 called Harlem Nocturne , based on the life of singer and comedian Bert Williams.” She glanced in my general direction and remarked, “interesting. Also says he almost didn’t get the part because he was too handsome and Bert, while an incredible talent, wasn’t touted as a looker.”
    Note to self: find that movie. Another note to self: find all of Shane Halloran’s movies.
    I scooched down the couch so I could peer over Addie’s shoulder at the website. I stared at the three photos of Shane and could almost feel that kiss again. The site listed fourteen movies, including Sheridan Falls and Miracle of the Catacombs, some baseball flick called Strike Three , and his two most famous, Circus Maximus in 1962, and a