Chapter 11
ELEVEN
I walked down to the craft room to get rid of the tray I’d used to bring Finn a drink. I felt like I should do something, but I couldn’t think exactly what. Running around screaming that something sinister was happening was certainly a possibility, but I wasn’t exactly sure of what, why or how sinister. Still, I needed to do something.
My first thought was to tell Louis or Marc the phone line had been cut, but in all honesty, there wasn’t much they could do about it. Then I remembered Kathleen had asked to be informed if I thought Finn was using. Well, not asked, commanded. I thought it wasn’t nice to tattle on him—though actually, only children worried about being a tattletale, right? Grownups should be able to handle the truth. No matter who it comes from.
I tapped on the door to the Arbuckle room. Heston again opened the door but kept it nearly shut. “Go away. We don’t need any more drinks.”
“Can I talk to your mom?”
“No. She’s busy.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Heston, let the man in.”
Heston stepped back and I walked into the dressing room. Before I could say anything, Kathleen asked, “Are they ready for me? How did Finn do?”
“He didn’t get through the whole thing.”
“Why not?”
“It seems he got his hands on some drugs.”
“Where? Who gave them to him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Probably that horrible manager of his.”
I said, “Well, she seemed genuinely concerned. And it is her livelihood if he loses his career. The thing is, I tried to call an ambulance, but the phone isn’t working. Someone cut?—”
“Why would you call an ambulance?”
“Well… I mean, I think he’s overdosed.”
“Is he conscious?”
“Yes.”
“Then he hasn’t overdosed. He’s just high. He’d be very upset if you called an ambulance when he didn’t need you to.”
Okay, that was a bit weird. Why did no one seem to want to help this guy?
“I still think he should see a doctor. He’s delusional. He said, ‘She’s trying to kill me.’”
“She? He thinks his manager is trying to kill him?”
“It was a more general she.”
“But you do think he meant his manager? Right?”
“I don’t know what to think.” And then I realized he could have meant Kathleen. Her motive was sitting on the couch. Of course, it was all ridiculous. The only person trying to kill Finn was Finn.
“You’re right,” she said, “We shouldn’t make assumptions. We’ll pray for Finn, of course.” She could have sounded a little more sincere. “It is disappointing. I’d hoped for more.”
“You shouldn’t have been hoping for anything, Kathleen,” her son said. “He doesn’t have anything to do with us. Does he?”
“He’s an old friend. Someday you’ll have old friends, Heston, and you’ll know what it’s like when they disappoint you.”
Heston just scowled at her, and said, “I’m hungry. I’m gonna get something to eat.” He skulked out of the dressing room.
I stood there wondering if maybe she was right. I could be over-reacting. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. I said, “His manager said he’ll be sober in an hour or two. It’s still possible he might not—disappoint you, as much?—”
“I’m not the type to entertain false hopes.”
I bit my tongue. I mean, that was her basic product, wasn’t it? False hope? Offering people hope where there was none. And then getting them to send in money to prove their hope? Well, hating people was a big part of what she was selling. I tried to decide which was her real product: hatred or false hope. Neither was very nice.
Abruptly she asked, “Why are you still here? Go tell them I’m ready when they are.”
Self-consciously, I walked out of the room. When I stepped into the hallway, I stood there for a moment gathering myself. Apparently, I didn’t need to worry about Finn. He was going to be fine. It was still worrying that that the phone line had been cut, but that could have happened long before we got there. The last group to use the soundstage could have done it. Or the one before that. I decided I’d better deliver Kathleen’s message and then find Louis.
“Yum, Jungle Juice,” Keely was saying into the camera when I walked back onto the stage area. Then she gave the biggest, most insincere smile I’d ever seen. Well, in person. After all, I did live through the Reagan years.
After a slight pause, Donald said, “Cut! That was perfect.”
“It was,” Wendy added. “Good job, Keely.”
I hovered just behind them, in front of the gameshow desk. They’d moved over to the yellow curtain in the center of the stage. A wise choice, as Keely looked lovely in front of it.
I wanted to give Donald Kathleen’s message, but he was busy talking with Ed, who was saying, “Don’t you think that guy needs to go to the emergency room?”
“No, he’ll be fine. He’s just high.”
“People who are that high aren’t fine. I think he needs a doctor.”
“You’re just here to carry things, Ed. Can you try to remember that?”
I began to say, “The telephone—” when Donald asked Keely, “Are you ready to continue?”
She nodded.
Stepping a foot or two back, I glanced around. I didn’t see Heston. He’d said he wanted something to eat, but he wasn’t at the craft table. Had he been and gone already? I checked the rest of the soundstage. Several people were slouched in the front row of the audience section. Donald, Ed and Wendy were all busy filming Keely.
Eldridge stood dutifully next to the craft table. He smiled at me, and everything seemed to stop for a moment. No, no, no—that was bad. The last thing I needed in my life was a guy who smiled, and then things around me stopped! I’d had that with Javier O’Shea, and boy did that not turn out okay. He was conflicted and a mess. And much darker than I wanted… or needed… or, whatever. Eldridge was smart and happy and normal. Stop it, I told myself, I was not making a comparison to choose between them. I’d rejected Javier and said no to going on a date with Eldridge. Everything was decided. I was happily single and planning to stay that way.
But—that smile.
It was late, almost two o’clock, maybe. I was beyond tired and a lot anxious, and shouldn’t be thinking about anyone’s smile. Louis was moving things around on the table, but really everything was full and, for the moment at least, people didn’t seem very interested in eating. They were all watching Keely.
“Tell us about yourself, Keely,” Donald said. “Who are you today?”
“Well, I have my own florist shop in Leimert Park. I’m up at six in the morning so I can be at the flower market in downtown LA by eight. I’m back in time to open my store, where I work until eight or nine at night. Six days a week. I do get a little help from a couple of at-risk teenagers who work at the shop part-time. I love it though; flowers offer such an opportunity for creativity…”
“And your love life?” Donald asked. “Still carrying a flame for anyone we know?”
“You’re not putting that in, Donald.”
“Cut,” he said, and clicked the button off. Though why he felt like he had to say ‘cut’ when he was running the camera was questionable. “Keely, what’s the problem?”
“You’re not reviving that storyline. It wasn’t true then and it’s not true now.”
“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Donald. I was a teenage Black girl and you made up a story about my having a crush on a pretty White boy. Do you have any idea how much hate mail I got? From White people and Black people. You want to talk about that on camera? You want to talk about how you made up a story and people hated me for it? I’ll gladly talk about that?—”
“I don’t think that’s what OTN wants.”
“Then leave it alone.”
“All right, fine. But you did have a crush on Finn.”
“And if I did… you thought it was okay to exploit a young girl’s feelings?”
“Do you need a break, Keely?” Wendy asked.
“Let’s just go on.”
Wendy gave her a husband a look that clearly meant ‘get on with it.’
Louis stepped over to me and whispered, “If I’d known this was going to be so dramatic, I would have made popcorn and left it at that.” Then he asked, “How is Finn Henderson?”
“High. Very high. Delusional even. And the telephone’s dead.”
“What?”
“All right. Quiet everyone. Action!” Donald called out before pressing the button on the camera. He waited three beats, then, “So… Keely can you tell us some of your favorite memories of the show?”
“I remember this one time, Kathleen got invited to a Halloween party at a USC frat house. She and Finn stole some costumes and makeup from this high school pilot that was shooting on the stage next to us, and went as the king and queen of the prom who got killed in a car crash on the way. It was funny.”
“What did you go as?”
“Oh, I didn’t go. It was the late seventies. Black girls didn’t go to frat parties held by rich White boys. I wasn’t exactly safe.”
“Could we try that again,” Donald said. “Just say you didn’t feel well.” A moment later, he asked, “What did you go as?”
“Oh, I didn’t go. I wasn’t feeling well. I was coming down with syphilis.”
Donald left a beat. I was pretty sure none of that would get in. After the beat, he asked, “Do you have a story that’s… more about you?”
Keely looked like she might snap at him for a moment, then said, “Why don’t I take a break and I’ll think of one. Does that work for you, Donald?”
“We only have so much time, you realize. And we’re not getting as much as I hoped we would…”
Louis pulled me back toward the table, and asked, “What do you mean the phone is dead?”
“I mean the phone is dead.” He gave me a frustrated look, so I added. “I thought someone should call an ambulance for Finn. I mean, no one else seems to think so, but?—”
“It doesn’t matter if you couldn’t get through.”
“Someone cut the cord.”
Louis had a very concerned look on his face.
“I’ll go while Keely takes a break,” Grace said to Donald.
I looked over and she was already smoothing her outfit, which was a very expensive, overly tailored suit with a gray, knee length skirt, a matching blazer with subtle shoulder pads, and beneath that she wore a collarless black silk blouse. Over it all lay a double strand of pearls. She looked a lot like she did on the back of a bus bench.
“Louis! We need Grace’s drink.”
“On it,” he said, walking away.
Grace climbed onto the stool. Donald and Ed spent a couple of minutes moving the camera so that the angle would be different than the one they’d used for Keely.
I looked for another window to tell Donald that Kathleen was ready. I edged closer and tried to get his attention, but he was too involved with the camera to notice me.
“Um, Donald?—”
He turned and snapped at me, “Don’t you have something you can be doing?”
“Actually, I’m trying?—”
“Do I look fat?” Grace asked. “No one wants a fat real estate agent. At least not a woman.”
“You look lovely, Grace,” Wendy said.
“Thank you.”
“Donald—”
He turned and snapped at me. “No one wants a soda. All right?”
“Um, that’s not?—”
“And where is Grace’s Juicy Juice? Can you find out?”
“Louis went to make it two seconds ago,” I said. I took a deep breath, about to try again to tell Donald?—
“Quiet! Everyone quiet. We’re going to start.”
“Donald, we don’t have the Juicy Juice.”
“It’s okay, we’ll circle back. Grace. When you’re ready.”
Donald said, “Action.” Pause. “Tell us about your life, Grace.”
“Well, I’m a top real estate agent catering to Hollywood’s elite. I focus on Brentwood, Beverly Hills, Bel-Air and the Pacific Palisades. My sales last year topped twenty million dollars.”
“So, I guess you don’t miss being an actress?”
“Well, the thing is… The lessons I learned as an actress I put to use every day. The purchase or sale of a million-dollar home can require me to take on many roles: best friend, financial advisor, parent, therapist, teacher, confidant… The last thing anyone wants is for me to be myself.”
She smiled at the camera. A smile that seemed very much like the fake smile she probably showed to her clients.
“So, right after the show you became a real estate agent?”
She hesitated, and then said, “Yes, that’s exactly right. The moment the show ended I became a real estate agent.”
“You must have been a very young real estate agent.”
“Well, all right… It took me a few years to get my footing after the show. But all young people go through trying periods.”
And then Louis was there, handing Grace her drink.
“Cut!” Donald called out.
“Oh, sorry,” Louis said. Then to Grace he said, “Summer Passion.”
“What?” Grace said, seeming almost offended.
“That’s what the drink is called,” Louis said. “It’s a lot of passion fruit.”
Grace carefully positioned the logo so it could be seen on camera and refrained from taking a sip. She waited patiently while Donald gathered himself. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“All right, then. Action.” He pressed the button on the camera. “Grace, you were telling us about your life.”
“Let me take a sip of the juice,” Grace corrected him.
“Oh, yeah, that.”
“There’s no dairy in this is there? Or any kind of fat?”
“Absolutely not,” Wendy said from the sidelines. I wondered how true that was. I was pretty sure whey was a kind of milk product. I remembered a nursery rhyme about curds and whey, so there was?—
Grace took a sip of the drink, and said, “Oh, it’s so good!” She smiled, held the smile for several beats, then said, “I’m not going to be able to drink that. I’m sorry… It’s just—no.”
“Just hold the cup, dear,” Wendy said.
“Let’s try that again,” Donald said. “And leave a pause before you comment. I have to edit this.”
Suddenly, Wendy crumpled to the floor. I was closest to her, so I got there first. I was getting down onto the floor with her, but she was already recovering.
“I’m fine! I’m fine! There’s nothing to worry about.” She sat up. “I couldn’t find my medication. I’m sure I put the bottle in my purse, but when I went to find it, it wasn’t there.”
“Wendy, is this your purse over here?” Meg asked. “Would you like me to take another look for your pills?”
“Oh, would?—”
“No,” Donald said. To his wife, he said, “You don’t want random people pawing through your things.”
“It’s not like I have secrets, Donald.” Looking back to Meg, she said, “If you don’t mind, dear. Lately I can’t see things right in front of me.”
“Is there anything that would help while we’re looking for your pills?” I asked. “Water?”
“Oh, water would be wonderful. Thank you.”
I walked over to the table. “Is there any evian out here?” I asked Eldridge.
He shook his head and asked if I wanted him to go get some.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll do it.”
I walked to the far end of the stage, passing Keely and Meg—who were deep in Wendy’s purse. Getting to the back hallway, I walked by the empty office, the Emery room. I thought I heard the sound of Amber crying, which made me wonder if Finn actually had fired her. Passing the Durante room, I saw Ricky had taken off his shirt and was flexing for himself in the still smudgy mirror. Then I reached the craft room. Once inside I grabbed an armful of evians, and started back the way I’d come.
This time Ricky saw me glance into his dress room.
“Like what you see?” he called out.
“Um… sorry.”
I had no idea how he expected me to answer that question. As I walked by the Emery room, I listened hard to see if I could hear Amber still crying, when I smelled cigarette smoke. It seemed to be coming from the men’s room. I opened the door to find Marc in there.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Smoking. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Wendy passed out because she can’t find her meds.”
“This is a nightmare.”
“Have you heard Amber crying in Finn’s dressing room?”
“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me. Women tend to cry around Finn. A lot.”
“Oh.” He was suggesting something I hadn’t thought of. “You really think so? She seemed all business to me.”
“That’s probably why she’s taking it hard. She thought she had a deal.” The word deal got air quotes.
“The telephone’s dead,” I said.
“Of course it is. I just want to go home. I’m sorry we involved you in this mess.”
“It’s okay. We’re getting paid.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Oh.”
With that, I left to bring Wendy a bottle of water. When I got back to the stage, she’d been helped over to one of the audience seats next to Meg and Keely. Donald and Ed were all set to start filming again. I went over to Wendy and gave her the bottle of evian. She actually did look better. I wondered what was wrong with her.
Looking around for Louis, I couldn’t find him. I wondered where he went to. I was just in the backstage area so?—
“Quiet everyone. And… action.” Donald said, as he pushed the button on the camera.
After a beat, he asked, “Grace, did you have a crush on Finn like the other girls?”
She sidestepped that question by saying, “We all knew Finn was going places. Being with Finn was as much about being seen with him as it was about actually spending time with him.”
“So, you did hope to continue your acting career after Kapowie! ”
“Not for long. Things… Well, things were difficult. And then…”
Suddenly, the air on the soundstage seemed to change. Things became stoney silent. I looked over to see Kathleen and Heston suddenly standing there. He must have found his way back to the dressing room at some point. That’s when I noticed a look passing between Kathleen and Grace. A look that was every bit as passionate as angry, and as hate-filled as the look that had recently passed between Kathleen and Finn.
Not for the first time, I thought, Weird stuff is happening. Really weird stuff.