Something was odd. Dan looked over at his neighbor's garage. The door was open, and trash cans were spilling out onto the driveway. It just wasn't like Kyle to leave his doors open. Raccoons are such a nuisance in this neighborhood. He walked over and noticed the paper on the lawn. This was just a little out of the ordinary. Kyle ran every day, and always stopped for his paper. He also never left the front door open.
Kyle was a theatrical tech designer, and was always working with sound or lighting projects in his home studio. These projects often required silence or darkness, and for that reason, and the raccoons in the woods bordering their back yards, he had developed the habit of buttoning up the house quite tightly unless he or Jeannie were outside in the yard.
Dan knocked on the frame of the open door and called inside to see if anyone was home. Just as he was about to call out to see if everyone was ok, he saw Kyle lying on the floor in the doorway to his studio. A small pool of blood had formed beneath Kyle's head. His face looked battered. His arm was bent back at a hideous angle, and there was bruising anywhere not covered by clothing. Kyle had been beaten in his own home, and left without aid.
Dan quickly dialed 911 on his cell as he called out for Jeannie. He managed to restrain the adrenaline pumping energy through his veins long enough to give the 911 operator all the information he could, then raced from room to room to ensure that she wasn't also lying beaten in another room, needing his help.
She wasn't there. Dan had barely completed his sweep of the house when a police car pulled up in front of the house, lights blazing. An ambulance followed closely, and while the EMT crew attended to Kyle, the police questioned Dan about what he had found. As Kyle was rushed to the emergency room, one question reverberated in everyone's mind, Where was Jeannie?
Fade To Black
Kyle and Jeannie met in college. They were both enrolled in theatre programs in drama schools in NY, right in the heart of one of the most active theatre communities in the world. She was studying to be an actress, learning how to create the illusion of a story on the stage. She was wonderful, but somehow she had difficulty taking direction, and much preferred to give it. Her teachers noticed this, and noticed how creative her ideas could be. They began to groom her for a career as a director or in theatre management.
Kyle was into the back stage magic of the theatre. He didn't have to create illusions as an actor did, he created different realities through sound, lights, effects and his set designs. He made it so the actor's job was easy for an audience to believe. Kyle was immediately recognized as brilliant. He was one of those rare talents who understood all the aspects of technical theatre, and was as comfortable designing a lighting look as he was a sound plot.
They met when they were both hired to do a summer stock project up in Connecticut the summer after their junior year. Jeannie was brought there as stage manager for her mentor and professor, who had just been hired as the director for two of the company's four summer productions. Kyle had worked there for two previous summers as a house electrician, but this year had become the assistant lighting director, and had the opportunity to design one of the shows. Working closely together the two were instantly attracted to each other. These would be there first of many productions together, both as students and later as they built careers in the field.
Jeannie was a slender, willowy vision, with a killer smile beneath her deep brown eyes. She was deliciously curvy where it counted, but without a speck of extra weight. Her long tanned legs poked out from the shorts she always wore, and her tops were conservative enough to say "Please behave...." while just revealing enough to say "I may have a surprise for you."
Kyle was dashingly handsome. He was an avid runner, claiming his best ideas came during his morning roadwork once his brain was cleared of the mish mash of day to day distraction. He looked like he worked out regularly, but really didn't need to. The day to day lifting and climbing he had to do was a perfect replacement for the weight training his friends advocated. He was fit and trim, and reasonably sure that if he kept doing the work of realizing his plots even when he was the designer, he would stay that way for life.
They had spent two weeks of hollering at each other from remote corners of the theatre, focusing lights, aiming special effects speakers, and calling cues before they finally got to sit down with each other. They had to program cues into the lightboard, and while they sat together became increasingly friendly. When they had finished, Jeannie leaned over and kissed Kyle on the cheek, saying how much she enjoyed working with him, and that he made her job something to look forward to every day.
Kyle kissed her back, only not on the cheek. She responded, and their little tete a tete in the control booth became rather heated. The theatre door below opened and slammed as the director came in and called to them.
"Kyle! Jeannie! Are you finished yet? We need to lock up!"
They quickly straightened themselves out, and came down from the booth.
"All done, and you're going to love it!" Jeannie answered as she scampered down the stairs well ahead of Kyle, intent on hiding their little tryst
They began to look for opportunities to be together, but as the production began its run, time became precious. Jeannie rode every day with her prof from her apartment in the city, while Kyle was staying at home, a short drive in the other direction. One night, Jeannie's prof wasn't coming to the show, but staying in the city to celebrate his daughter's birthday. Jeannie would be in charge, but had no place to stay. Kyle offered the guest room at his home. No one else was there, as his parents spent summers up at the Cape, so there was plenty of room. Jeannie was delighted. She didn't really they would need a lot of room. One bed would do.
