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If This Could Happen,

or How a cheap street prostitute was saved by the Voice of the Century

Young French woman roamed Hollywood. She came there few months ago, and her story was incredibly banal. As soon as she graduated from school, she departed for America to conquer it with her talents and (this was her secret dream) to be closer to her idol: Mario Lanza. But cruel disappointment waited for her in the "promised land". She learned that to be fresh, young and naturally blonde was not all that is required - she had to be bright and interesting. And she was not. She could not act nor sing nor dance well enough to compete with hundreds other starlets. After this crushing defeat, there was only one way for her: to return home and to cry her despair on her mother's shoulder. But Julie postponed and postponed her depart, vaguely hoping to meet Mr. Lanza somewhere. Day went after day, without job, in vain researches, and finally Julie ran out of money. She spent all the night weeping and on the morning decided to take the fastest and dirtiest way to earn her living: she became prostitute.

The first few days were incredibly hard. Julie looked shyly at the passers-by, trying to maintain the smile on her pale chubby face, while her mind was filled with awful pictures of her competitors' revenge and of police patrols searching for her. However, as wise men say, it is the first step that costs - and little by little Julie got accustomed and even loved her sinful occupation. She discovered by the way that she indeed had a talent: she was astoundingly good in bed. Lying with a client, she closed her eyes and figured herself folded in Mario's arms, and this always gave her incredible stamina and great power of imagination.

In that special evening of May 195* Julie went to the street in a special mood. It seemed to her that there was a holiday, and the city to which she got time to be accustomed, suddenly shone with a new, magic light. Probably this light made shine Julie herself, because she was lucky to receive a good client. He didn't come to her by feet, at it usually was, but stopped his car at her sight, and they moved not in a cheap inn where Julie resided but in a more prestigious motel.

Everything went as good as it gets, but suddenly an unpredictable thing occurred. In a peak of passion Julie lost control on herself and let out a moan:
- Oh Mario, Mario!!!
- Mario?.. Who is he? - surprised client asked.

All the blood from Julie's body came to her face, making it brightly red, and her eyes drowned in tears in a moment:
- Oh, excuse me... I spoiled your pleasure...
- Don't worry about it. You rather awoke my curiosity. Who is this Mario? Sounds like an Italian-American. He was one of your clients?
- No, he was not with me and never will be, for he is way too good for me. I love him, and he doesn't even know about it.
- Even so?.. But you didn't respond who he is.
- You will laugh at me. I won't tell you.
- Ah you stubborn fellow! I'm stung to the quick! Tell me or you'll have no money.
- Let it be so. Keep your money. I give you my body, not my soul.

Showing like he was bored, the man turned aside; suddenly, quickly turning back to Julie, he grabbed her in his arms and carried closer to the window, for she could see a huge ad banner on the wall of a building on the opposite side of the street. This banner read:

- Did I guess well? Here is your Mario! - the man said with a wink and let Julie go.

The girl began to cry, faintly at first, trying to hold back her tears, then - as a child, loudly and desperately. A strong blow on the backside made her stop.

- Shut up! I can't tolerate women's tears. Go to the bathroom and wash your face, and if in a minute you don't stop I will forget that I wanted to make you a gift for your great efforts.

Julie came obediently to the bathroom. Her cheeks were flushing and her thoughts were confused. Cold water helped her to concentrate, but her lips still trembled when she said with difficulty:

- Forgive. Me please. My nerves. Are too weak. And gifts. Are unnecessary. Pay me. And I'll go...
- No, I won't let you go so early! I liked your job and I want to repeat.

This time, Julie was not at her best. She was too tense, too much trying not to cry again, and the image of beloved face blurred before her closed eyes, as if restrained tears washed if away. But she managed to repair the lack of passion with emphasized efforts, and the client was satisfied.

- Not so bad, - he purred, lighting a cigarette. - And now, listen to what gift I have for you. I'm a cameraman, and Mister Lanza - why you became so pale? - invited me with all the crew to a dinner in his house. I don't think he will be against my idea to take you with me. There will be so many people that he will not notice an extra guest!.. Hey, what's wrong with you?!

There was a ringing in Julie's ears. She stood lightning-struck, with both hands holding in her throat her heart ready to jump out. Finally, she managed to say:

- You... are not joking?.. This would be too cruel joke...
- What a mistrustful cutie! Why don't you believe in men's kindness? Calm down, I'm serious. I just want to give you a bit of pleasure, as you did with me. Here, - without leaving the bed, he reached to his jacket pending on a chair and scratched one visit card out of pocket, - my telephone number. Call me tomorrow around 3 pm - half past 3. We'll agree about a place where to meet, and I'll take you there. OK?
- Thank you, - said Julie, taking a card.

She felt cold and began to put on her clothes, all shivering. As she prepared herself to leave and combed her hair, she saw in a mirror that the man behind her opened his purse. Quickly turning to him, she caught his hand and shouted:

- Is it God Who sent you?.. You've just made me happiest woman on Earth, and you're going to pay me?! This is too much! I won't take the money.
- Sweet babe, learn one thing: never refuse to have what you've earned. Take this money and buy yourself a dress in which you will not be ashamed to appear before your dear Mario. Come on, take it! Now, go home and sleep well. See you tomorrow, um... lovely Mario-fan!

Of course, that night Julie couldn't sleep at all. She turned endlessly in her mind all possible scenarios of an upcoming event, and fell asleep only in early morning, exhausted and happy.

She woke up suddenly at 2 pm, looked at her clock and ran to the bathroom. Finishing her "morning" toilet, Julie stared at herself in a mirror... and gave an angry slap on her own face. Yesterday's tears and a sleepless night made their effect on her: the face was swollen, the eyes circled, and a big pimple sat at the middle of her right cheek. She had to do makeup, which she didn't like and was not accustomed to: usually she only underlined her eyes. Remembering that she must buy a dress, she ate quickly and ran to the store, where she once saw a gown of her dream. On the halfway, she stopped suddenly, so the man who walked behind her hit her and groaned a big word. She forgot to count the money received yesterday! And it seemed shameful to her to open a purse in a store only for counting the bills with rustling noise but to buy nothing. Julie sighed and made her way back to her inn. She counted the money accurately, repeated the sum twice, to not to forget, and came again to the store.

What a shock! Julie supposed that the gown was expensive, but she couldn't imagine it was SO expensive. She closed her eyes and struggled with strong wish to run away. The time was short, and she had to decide. After a moment of intense inner battle, she approached shyly the saleswoman and asked:

- Pardon me Madame... Would you please find me a gown like this one... but... twice cheaper?

Saying this, Julie was ready to be despised and laughed at. The politeness and the smile of a saleswoman, though quite standard, felt like balm on Julie's heart. The gown the saleswoman offered her was not so gorgeous, but it didn't look cheap, however. Julie thanked, paid for it and headed to the inn, squeezing under her arm the crunchy package. She didn't forget to buy on the street a box of cheap makeup.

Now the time was really short. Julie showered again, wore her best underwear and a new gown, and made herself a coiffure hiding her not so good hair but showing well her white and tender neck. The thick lay of pink makeup looked a little bit unnatural but masked the circles under eyes and reduced the swellings. And the insolent pimple had to be transformed in a beauty grain. Finally, she was ready. After looking for the last time in a mirror then at her watch, Julie squeezed her hands and whispered: "Oh God, have mercy on me the sinner!" - and went to the phone.

Her unexpected benefactor held his promise. He drove Julie to the house of Mario Lanza and led her to the dining room already full of guests. Our twosome purposely arrived with a slight delay for Julie could easier mix with the crowd. The cameraman wished to Julie good luck and left her. She looked around her. An enormous table, almost invisible under big quantity of food and drinks, divided the vast room in two, everywhere people was chatting and laughing, and suddenly Julie... sort of woke up... Her joyous excitement was gone with the wind. She stopped to worry about her look, put on her glasses (she was short-sighted but used glasses very rarely, only when she absolutely had to see something clearly) and started to search for the Host. Handsome Mario was on top of hospitality and friendliness. He cared after his wife and mother, kissed women's hands, came from one group of guests to another to uphold the conversation. While watching him, Julie heard occasionally that all the variety of culinary masterpieces was prepared by the own hands of his mother! Alas, the guests seemed to prefer the drinks...

Julie was afraid to drink, feeling that her tense nerves formed in her chest a fireball ready to explode. Wishing to make pleasure to Mario and his mother (and to herself, of course!), she began to eat thoroughly. Everything had great taste, but she didn't feel happy. Black wave of bad mood, which touched her at the start of the evening, returned and hit her with all its force. She said angrily to herself, "What are you doing here? Who are you for Mario? One of hundred millions, and even if he sees your face he won't remember you. So, why the hell are you trying to intrude into his life?!" Julie didn't notice how these sad thoughts made her cry. She continued to eat mechanically, and the tears ran down her cheeks. At one moment, the sobbing made her choke. Forgetting all English words, she asked her neighbor for help in a language of signs. Not without difficulty, he understood, knocked on her back, she regained her breath and thanked him and continued to eat in tears...

Mario began to feel tired of this noisy party. With a broad smile, he ruled his kingdom of joy. Looking once again at the partying people, he noticed something strange. Something he saw was in disharmony with general jolly picture and felt like a grain of sand in the eye. He looked more attentively - and saw young woman's face, unnaturally pink, wet of tears. He remembered that this girl surprised him several times during the evening: she drank only juice, ate too many, was not joking nor laughing - and now, she weeps! Mario made his way to Julie and carefully posed his heavy and warm hand on her trembling shoulder:

- Honey, what's up?
- Eh?! Oh, how do you do Mister Lanza? - Julie said in a strange voice with strong accent.

Without paying attention to this untimely greeting, he softly asked again:
- What's wrong?

In a matter of seconds Julie's mind did a titanic work: thousands of thoughts came and disappeared, ranging from: "Is it true that I'm REALLY talking to HIM?" - to: "Oh my God, what to say him?!" This storm of thoughts settled down, leaving one precise: "Tell him all the truth!"

- All is right, Mister Lanza. You are great singer. You have your own life. And - there's NO place for me in it!

"Boy is she right, - Mario though. - Alas, I cannot help her".

He taped slightly on her shoulder, saying:
- Everything will be OK, don't cry! - and went away.

Other guests distracted his attention, and soon he forgot about her.

"Hi guys, don't ya think I'm sexy?"
"Here is my price: an airplane ticket to Paris..."
"Not very cheap, but the pleasure is worth it!"

On the next day's evening, Julie was flying back home. "Return of an errant daughter..." The expensive gown, smelling sweat, deodorant and a mixture of various cigarettes' smoke, spotted with gravies and sauces, again in its crunchy store's package, was hiding on the bottom of a plastic bag, apart from other luggage. This gown will never be clean again, for Julie will not have a heart to wash it after it was touched by Mario. "Yes, finally everything will be OK, he is right, - she though. - And if Mario has his own life, it means that I must built up my one. And only when I will achieve something in My Own life, only then I'll be able to look in his eyes without fear or shame!.."

They never met again. And in a few years, he left this world.