Kerri H


Electra’s Sylph Hour’s green room was a box. Conrad carried it out to the table while Electra was talking to the crowd.

She was going out live and Nolan had put his phone in with us so I could watch. She was a natural. She made everyone feel welcome.

“She’s good,” Fisher said. “I already feel welcome.”

“Wait until you step inside,” I said. “It’s like entering someone’s home.”

On the screen, Electra was reading off the names of the sylphs chosen to join them on the show tonight.

Then she added a big list of names, sylphs that would be recorded tonight, for inclusion in a later broadcast.

“I wish…” She paused to swallow. Her eyes were moist. “I really, really wish I could invite all of you into the house, here. I do. I want to tell everyone’s stories.

“But we tried, okay?” She was looking really broken up about this. “We tried to pick sylphs… No, to pick PEOPLE, whose stories are your stories. When we… When we want people to know that Tom from Tulsa got his arm cut off in a trap, that’s not just about Tom. That’s about EVERYONE who’s been hurt in a trap. Does that… Does that make sense?”

She was really seeking approval from a horde of sylphs and a double handful of sylph owners. And while I was half-expecting a football crowd sort of cheering, she got… Nods.

They were sober and serious and they gave her their blessing. She smiled through tears and clasped her hands together. “Thank you. Thank you so much.

“And, because we want to tell everyone’s story, Conrad says he’s going to put everyone’s application online. Somewhere. I mean, we always planned to have a website for the show, now we know what’s going to be on it, besides the schedule. You guys.”

NOW they cheered. Electra went inside and the camera view followed.

Conrad opened the door and asked Carrie to step out. She walked across the table to the door and waited.

Electra gave her house tour in stages. She showed everyone the living room, and the windows set to where she and Conrad lived in Boise.

Then she welcomed Carrie Fisher in for a chat.

Carrie was the most famous sylph in the Center at the time, not counting Amelia, and she had turned down a chance to be interviewed. She’d already done Electra’s segment about a dozen times. “Time to let the bird out of the nest,” she had told me.

She started with a hug, her trademark, and congratulated Carrie on being reunited with family.

They talked about that for a while, about being at the mercy of ‘your biggest fan’ when he finds that the person on the plane next to him has sylphed.

“And speaking of fans,” Carrie said with a smile. “I understand your car is named the Tantive IV.”

“Yes,” Electra said cheerfully. “It’s the third Tantive IV we’ve owned.” I love that she used the word ‘we.’ And in her relationship, that’s pretty much the right word.

Anyway, Carrie went on. “And I also hear that your middle name…”

“Oh, God,” Electra moaned.

Carrie was cool with it, “As long as Conrad doesn’t make me sign his face.” Electra laughed that off.

In the green room, the other guests and I could hear the distinct sound of a marking pen being placed down on the table, hidden behind the box we were in.

Poor Conrad.



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Index

124. Electra H

126. Electra I