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"No," he said, "but don't worry. I promise I won't let anything happen, Rain. I promise," he said, he pleaded. I wanted to push- him away. Everything told me I had to, but the passion that raged in me wasn't much less than what was driving him.

He entered me. I gasped.

"Randall!" I cried. "We'll get into trouble and I can't afford another bit of it!"

He moved quickly and then he pulled out and spent himself on the bed, between my legs, moaning. I waited for my heart to stop flailing about in my chest so that my blood would cool and slow its flow. Then I touched his hair and waited for him to catch his own breath.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm such an idiot. Leslie and Catherine wanted to give me some rubber Johnnies, but I was too embarrassed to take them. I should have gotten my own. I'm such an idiot."

"Rubber Johnnies?"

"That's what they call them here," he said and I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. I started to laugh harder and harder until tears spilled from my eyes.

He lifted his head and smiled at me.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said, sitting up and reaching for my clothes. Then I started to laugh again.

He laughed, too, although he didn't know

why. He thought I was just laughing at the funny name for a condom.

I wasn't really laughing. I was crying with a smile on my face. I was so lost. Even when I was making love, I felt so lost.

Until I knew who I was, until I stood up proudly and said my name; until I could look into the mirror and see through the mask, I wouldn't be able to feel anything, I thought, not the way all this should be felt.

When I stopped laughing and just wiped tears from my cheeks, Randall stared at me, confused.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"I'm sorry. You're upset with me. I' m such an idiot."

"It's not you, Randall."

"Then what is it?" he asked.

"It's the big lie," I replied.

"What big lie?"

"Me," I said. "To be or not to be, remember?" He shook his head. "I don't understand."

I hesitated and then I pulled the blanket over myself and began, and as I told him my story, my true story, it felt as if a weight was being lifted from my chest.

8

Disturbing Revelations

.

Randall lay back on a pillow with his hands

behind his head listening attentively to my story. He didn't interrupt; he didn't ask a question; he didn't speak until I stopped talking, took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. What drained me was not the length of time it took or even the revisiting of highly emotional moments. No, what sapped my spirit and energy was revealing to another person that my mother, my real mother, had given birth to me and then given me away as easily as she might have given away an old pair of shoes. If Mama Arnold hadn't contacted my real mother on my behalf last year, we might never have met. Her life wouldn't have changed an iota, not that I thought it had anyway. She claimed that she often thought of me, but I didn't really believe that and after all, she was still doing all she could to keep my existence top secret.

If anyone should suffer from a poor self-image and lack of self-confidence, I thought, it should be me, and those were two things you needed to have in tiptop condition if you were going to become an actress and perform before thousands of people judging you, measuring you along with critics who had microscopes for eyes.