Angel's Messiah (26 page)

“Yes, Lucy. I still have lots of places to visit. You behave for you mother, okay?”

Lucy nodded and Kiana showed Gina to the door.

“I hope everything works out for you,” Kiana whispered. “Yours is not an easy task.”

Gina was on the move again, visiting her eighty-ninth town, not including her visit to Kiana, in less than sixty days. There were less than a weeks’ worth of online messages to be uploaded. She’d need to think of some more messages soon, and hoped she
was
making a difference, but only time would tell.

The buzz on the Internet was all about Gina.
Who is Gina Malakh? Where does Gina Malakh live? Does anyone know Gina Malakh? Is Gina Malakh for real? Someone named Gina helped me when I was down and out. Is Gina Malakh really a man? A Gina saved my life once. Like, is Gina Malakh the new messiah? I met an angel named Gina. Gina Malakh cleansed my soul of sin.

Gina laughed at some of the things people said about her in blogs, forums and chats. Some of them had taken to using her messages in their online signatures and tags, though not all of them were what Gina would have liked to see them use to help promote the word — whilst birthday cake was delicious and everyone should eat it, cake wasn’t likely to change the world.

If Little Mother is still following what’s happening in the mortal world she’ll see I am beginning to make a difference to some.

She sought her email account and found five thousand six hundred and twenty-nine new email messages. Gina knew then that she had started to make an impact. She looked at the subjects to make a quick assessment of the ones she should listen to in her head right now. The rest could wait for another time. The emails started to play.

You must die!

Charlatan!

Can you heal me?

I want a baby desperately. Can you help me?

Call me for a good time, babe.

You must die!

Filthy whore spawn!

Should I go to church every Sunday?

What will the winning lottery numbers be?

My son has a mental illness. Can you cure him?

I have a toothache …

So was your mother a virgin?

You must die!

White trash!

I don’t want to be here anymore …

If God created everything, who created God? I mean, He couldn’t have just been there.

I know you.

You must die!
That message was getting old fast.

Apparently you’re somewhat of a phenomenon. Natalie Harper, well known for her talk show ‘The Chat with Nat’, is willing to come out of retirement to interview you on live television, so the world can learn who the real Gina Malakh is.
Gina paused the email for a moment, letting the words sink in, before continuing to play it in her head.
If you’re interested, please respond to this email and we can start making the necessary arrangements.

Here was an opportunity to reach millions more people. Natalie was a well-loved figure the world over. For her to come out of retirement for an interview would spark a lot of interest. This would be a real coup, not only for Natalie, but for Gina as well. This was the chance she’d been waiting for. She needed to grab it with both hands and run with it.

Message to Natalie’s Executive Assistant:
Very interested. Please let me know where and when, and I’ll be there.

19.
Celebrity Status

Gina decided it would be easier to check her emails several times a day. After the number of emails she’d had to read, most of which she sent a response to, it made sense to break the task down into manageable chunks. She easily averaged five hundred new messages each time she checked. There was one new message from Natalie Harper’s assistant. She picked out the important parts of the email and played them in her head.

Thanks for your response … a number of preparations need to be made, airtime booked, media releases … we’ll need to meet with you … we can discuss concerns you may have about the interview and prep you … is next week okay?

Message to Natalie’s Executive Assistant:
As already indicated, please let me know where and when, and I’ll be there. Travelling is not an issue.

When Gina finally met with one of Natalie’s staff, after being asked a number of questions to confirm her identity, they briefed her on a number of things: what behaviour was acceptable, what she should wear to the interview, how long the interview would go for, what signal to use if she needed a break, and various other things, like facing Natalie, the camera or the audience when talking. She also shouldn’t put on any makeup as this would be taken care of in her dressing room. The biggest question, from Gina’s point of view, hadn’t been answered.

“When will the interview take place?” she asked.

“Three weeks from today, seven-thirty timeslot.”

“Oh,” Gina said. She’d hoped it would be much sooner. The date bothered her a little. Perhaps she was becoming superstitious.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. I hadn’t realised these things took so much time to organise,” Gina replied.

“This info pack pretty well covers everything we’ve discussed today. It also contains information on what time you need to arrive at the studio and where to report to. Do you have a phone number we can contact you on if needed?”

“No, I’ve never needed one, but I can always access my email.”

“You don’t have a phone, but you can access your email?” the assistant asked, shaking his head.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Only if you’re not available 24/7.”

“What does that mean?” Gina asked.

“Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week,” the assistant said. He was beginning to think this interview was going to be a bit of a joke. The researchers would need to come up with something pretty big to make it work.

“Oh, that’s okay then. I can access my email anywhere at any time. Am I free to go now?”

“Sure. See you in three weeks.”

Gina left the office. There was no one else in the corridor and she simply disappeared. The assistant came running out of his office — Gina had forgotten to sign some papers.

“Where the hell is she?” he asked.

There was no way she had enough time to get to the front door, even if she’d run as soon as she left his office. He had no option but to email her and ask her to come back. Within fifteen minutes Gina was back in the building.

“I’m so sorry,” Gina said. “I’m not used to paperwork. It’s really quite foreign to me.”

Gina signed the paperwork and was gone again. The assistant was left wondering how she’d managed to access her emails with no phone and no Internet cafe within a half-hour walk of his office. Maybe the researchers would find something useful on this one after all.

On the appointed day, Gina reported in ten minutes ahead of time. The studio was already a hive of activity and the interview wasn’t to take place for hours yet. Gina was given a quick tour of the set — where Natalie would sit and where she would sit. She was shown to her dressing room and served a light meal and refreshments. She watched television to help pass the time and saw a commercial for the upcoming interview. Two hours before the interview she was asked to change into whatever she was going to wear.

Little Mother and that man I saw three weeks ago said to wear neat casual, but what exactly is neat casual? I never did ask.

Gina quickly flicked through some magazines and decided that a beige pin stripe pant suit with a nice pair of heels should be suitable. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and thought how mature and professional she looked. Little Mother would approve. She hoped this was the type of look people took seriously.

The makeup artist had very little to do — a small amount of foundation and powder to take away the shine, shadow for the eyes and a little gloss on the lips. Gina’s eyelashes were long and thick so required no mascara.

When the time came, Gina was taken to the studio, to wait in the wings until it was time to go on the set. The level of activity behind the scenes increased as last-minute checks were performed. Gina could hear lots of voices talking at the same time. Presumably the voices belonged to the members of the audience, chatting until the interview started. Within minutes everyone was silent. Suddenly there was a riot of applause and whistling that was allowed to continue for a minute or so.

“On a day when we mourn, September eleven, someone brings a message of hope, peace and love,” Natalie began. “Today I’m going to interview the woman some people are saying is the next messiah, Gina Malakh.”

The applause grew loud again and a voice whispered to Gina, “You’re on.”

Gina walked onto the set, smiling and waving at the audience before shaking hands with Natalie and kissing her cheek. Natalie pointed to a chair and both ladies sat down in their appointed places.

Gina scanned the audience and was drawn to the back row. It was time. She would do the best she could with whatever time she had left. Preparations had been made for a message to be delivered to the Internet once the show was over and all was said and done.

Natalie leaned forward to try and attract Gina’s attention.

“Gina, how does it feel to have obtained celebrity status in so short a time?”

Gina turned to Natalie, a look of confusion on her face. “I’m not sure what you mean, Natalie?”

“Millions of people are following your messages and posts online. Almost that many again are posting information
about
you — about miracles you’re meant to have performed.”

“Oh. So celebrity status is all about how many people follow you, so to speak. I’m happy people think what I say is important. I only hope they understand my messages.”

“I have to admit that my researchers haven’t been able to find any concrete information about your past, prior to June, so we’ll need to do our research here and now. Let’s start with some basic information. Is Gina Malakh your real name?”

Gina leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “My full name is Regina Malakh, but everyone has always called me Gina. I like Gina.”

Natalie touched her ear, listening to someone from behind the scenes speaking to her while maintaining eye contact with Gina. Gina smiled as she waited for Natalie to ask her next question.

“That’s a very interesting combination of names you have, Gina. Roughly translated they mean
queen messenger angel
. Is there some
significance
to that?”

“You may read into my name whatever you wish. To me, it’s just the name that I was given when I was born. It was already chosen for me.”

“Where were you born, Gina?”

“In Eden.”

Again, Natalie listened as a voice spoke to her.

“Is that Eden in Australia or one of many Edens in the United States or Europe?”

Gina shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “Does it really matter? It’s just Eden.”

“Perhaps your name should have been Eve,” Natalie suggested, and the audience laughed.

“Ah, but I was born knowledgeable, not like Eve at all. I had no need to eat from the tree of knowledge, which no longer exists by the way.”

“How do you know it no longer exists?” Natalie asked, smiling as though they were sharing some private joke.

“I come from Eden, remember,” Gina laughed, and the golden sound echoed through the studio.

“Okay, you were born in Eden. Why is there no record of your birth, anywhere?”

“There’s only no record of my birth on
paper
. After all, if I hadn’t been born, how could I be here before you today? A hundred years ago in Eastern Europe it was quite common for births not to be recorded. Word of mouth was the way people learned that a babe had been born. Surely seeing is believing?”

Natalie nodded, and asked, “Do you have any family?”

“I have a very large family, though I spent most of my life with my mother and father, Helena and Danizriel.”

Natalie touched her ear again and she pressed her lips together as she concentrated on what was being said. Her team of researchers worked hard with the information Gina was providing, yet it was still proving a difficult task.

“Is there something wrong with your ear, Natalie?” Gina asked and the audience laughed. “I could help.”

Natalie smiled. “Nothing’s wrong, Gina. Your mother, at least, we’ve found some information on.”

Gina sat forward on her seat, keen to hear what Natalie had discovered and if it would match up with her mother’s memories. She knew from what she’d seen written about herself on the Internet that sometimes things got distorted.

“It seems she owns a penthouse, although she hasn’t been
seen
there for well over a year. There are also credit cards in her name that haven’t been used for almost as long. Other than that we can’t find any record of Helena Malakh’s existence, and none for your father. Don’t you find that odd, Gina?”