The Hollywood Trilogy

by Don Carpenter

  “Sure,” Jack said. “Good. I like it.”

  The two of them found Jonathan Bridger and explained to him what was going to happen.

  “I don’t give a shit anymore,” he said. “Let’s just do it.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Harry said. He wanted very much to laugh. What difference did any of it make?

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  JODY GOT drunk that night in the motel’s little bar. Everybody else must have been too tired to even come in, because she was the only member of the picture company in the place. She was glad she did not work here. Behind the bar was a thin bony woman of about Jody’s age who said her husband was in the Air Force stationed in Alaska and she worked here for something to do as well as the money, and she had no intention of joining her husband in Alaska when he got enough time in grade to send for her, or whatever it took.

  Jody and Harry were supposed to be celebrating tonight because today was supposed to have been her last day, except for a couple of shots where she didn’t really do anything but sit there. But now she was going to have to do a repeat of the crossroads death scene, only their way, the script’s way, a way the character Helen would never have died. So now Harry was angry at her and would not come out and drink with her. He was in his room fiddling with paperwork and pretending he was too busy, but she knew he was just punishing her for being a bitch today. But she was going to have her drinking party anyway, whether anybody joined her or not.

  She had knocked at Maggie’s door but he had not been there, so he had probably gone to town with some of the crew. There were a couple of raunchy clubs in Sugarville, and Jody was half-tempted to get a set of car keys from the production office and run into town herself. But no. Harry might get over his sulk and come over looking for her, and she wanted to be where he could find her without too much trouble. Later on that night she expected to want to make love. She usually did when she got drunk, unless she got too drunk, which did happen from time to time.

  A couple of handfuls of peanuts from a dish on the bar was her dinner. She did not feel like eating. She felt like drinking and raising a little hell. She had been holding it in for a couple of months. That was practically a record for her. She had to congratulate herself. She had not really believed that she could actually get through this entire picture without fucking up. But she had done it, and she had even gotten them to make the crossroads scene the way she wanted, with Helen dying in a blaze of gunfire screaming curses at the police. She smiled to herself. She would have to wait for Hollywood to see the dailies on the scene, but it would be worth the wait. It was the best thing she had done on the picture and she was proud of it.

  She had five of the little two-shot bottles of bourbon whiskey mixed with water and ice before Harry came in with that wary look on his face and told her that she had better get back to her room.

  “I bet you think I’m drunk,” she said and laughed, realizing as she said it that she was drunk, and it was a damned good thing Harry had come for her.

  “Come on,” he said. “Did you pay for your drinks?”

  “Yes I paid for my drinks,” Jody said, a little irritated at his question. “And I can walk without any help from you, either.”

  “Don’t get mad,” Harry said in his mild voice. Outside there was a nice chill in the air. They walked arm-in-arm around the pool and through the breezeway to her room.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked Harry. He was standing at the door.

  “You need some sleep,” he said. “Big day tomorrow. Your last day on the picture.”

  “Yes, but I’m celebrating tonight,” she said. “Come in, baby. I’ve missed you.”

  She went up to him and kissed him on the mouth and put her hands on his ass to pull his body up to hers. “Come in, lovey,” she said to him. “I want to do something to you.”

  “Just for a minute,” Harry said, and closed the door behind him. Jody kissed him again and felt him holding himself back. She put a little more into the kiss and then put her head against his chest and held on to him. She could feel him changing, and after a couple of moments he tilted her head up and kissed her, and then it was easy. She undressed him slowly the way she liked to do, kissing him and stroking him until his eyes went glassy, and then she took off her own clothes while he lay on the bed and watched her, and then they made love, for the first time in more than two weeks. This time it was good, very good for Jody. She came three times, each orgasm bigger than the last, until she was exhausted from it and he lay next to her panting happily.

  “My Jesus Christ!” was all he could say.

  They lay holding each other until Jody had to get up to get a glass of water. All the booze had made her thirsty, and of course she was still drunk as a fucking goat. But she could feel the edges of the hangover already creeping into her brain, and she wanted another drink to put it off.

  “Do you have a bottle in your room?” she asked Harry.

  “No,” he said. “But you’d better get to sleep anyway.” He got up and started to dress.

  “Oh stay with me,” she said.

  “I have to get up three hours before you do,” he said. “You’re going to need the sleep.” When he was dressed he came over to her on the bed and leaned down and kissed her. It was a very nice kiss, very tender and sweet.

  “I love you,” Harry said to her and left the room.

  Jody’s call was for ten and so she told the motel operator to wake her at eight-thirty, turned out the lights and faced the darkness, with nothing but the heavy breathing of the air conditioner for company. After a while she knew that she was not going to be able to get to sleep. The trouble was, it was still too damned early to go to sleep. She turned on the light again and dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans, her old paisley men’s shirt and a pair of sandals and went outside.

  The only light on in the row was Alice Wanderove’s, and so Jody knocked, although she had not had much to do with Alice during the production. Alice opened the door wearing an old chenille bathrobe. Her television set was tuned to the Johnny Carson show.

  “Hi, come on in,” Alice said and stepped back to let Jody past. “I hear you were really good this afternoon.”

  “Who told you that?” Jody asked. “I thought everybody hated me.”

  Alice laughed and threw herself onto the bed. “Oh, no, the crew loves you.”

  “I love them too,” Jody said. She sat down and for a couple of minutes watched the television. She did not see any bottles around the room. “I’m kind of on the loose tonight,” she said. “I was over in the bar drinking but Harry came and got me and put me to bed.”

  “I guess they’re closed now,” Alice said. “They sure close early. Lew and I were over there drinking one night and they closed at ten thirty, just said, ‘G’nat naow!’ and threw us out.”

  “I can’t sleep. I guess I’m still all keyed up from today,” Jody said. “Do you have any sleeping pills or anything? What I’d really like is some good old country marijuana, though.”

  Alice laughed again and said, “I don’t have any of that, but I guess about half the company’s been buying the stuff from some of the drivers. I know when we first got here everybody was so scared about the Alabama police and stuff like the KKK and so nobody brought anything.”

  “I know,” Jody said.

  “I’ve got some seconal if you want one to get to sleep, though,” Alice said. She got up and went into the bathroom, coming out with a plastic vial. “I practically live on these things sometimes,” she said. “My husband he says they’re no good for you, but out on location I really need something.” The vial had seven or eight of the red capsules in it.

  “I could use maybe three of them,” Jody said, “if you can spare them.”

  “Oh heck,” Alice said, “I’ll be home in Van Nuys in a few days. Take all you want.”

  Jody took four and went into Alice’s bathroom to wash them down. She swallowed two and put two in her shirt pocket.

  “You
didn’t take all of those, did you?” Alice asked her. “You should only take one or two unless you’re really used to them.”

  “I just took two,” she said. “Two for tomorrow night, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” Alice said.

  “Well, I better get back to my room before I fall out,” Jody said. “Thanks a lot.”

  Just as she was putting the key in her door, one of the company cars drove up and parked with a squeal of brakes, and Maggie Magnuson got out. He had a big white bag from the McDonald’s in his hand, and he looked drunk.

  “Hello there!” he said to Jody. “You wanna cheeseburger?”

  “Sure I do,” Jody said.

  “I’m going to invite you to my room, but you must not make a pass at me,” Maggie said seriously. “The boss would kill me.”

  “I’ll try to hold back,” Jody said.

  Even with the daily maid service Maggie’s room was a mess, with clothes, guns, fishing rods, books, magazines and assorted junk lying all over. Maggie threw some things off one of the chairs and gestured grandly for Jody to sit down.

  “You want a Big Mac or just a plain ordinary chickenshit cheeseburger?” he asked her.

  “What I’d really like is some weed,” she said. “I’ve been a good girl all the time, and now I really want to get ripped.”

  “Aw,” Maggie said. “All I got left is one joint, local stuff. I bought a lid from the Goon about a week ago, after I got over my paranoia, but it’s all gone but one joint. Everybody’s been hitting on me.” He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a fat marijuana cigarette, lit it and passed it to Jody.

  “Goddamn, that tastes good,” she said. Maggie turned on the television and sat watching, wolfing down cheeseburgers.

  Jody did not want any of the food, but asked for and got a bathroom glass a quarter full of the Wild Turkey Maggie kept in his room. The 101-proof bourbon tasted delicious to Jody, and was so strong that it seemed to actually numb her mouth, but that might have been the effect of the reds. But the marijuana did not seem to be very good. She was not really high, just a little drunk and still wide awake. She really wanted to get high.

  “Where’d you buy this dope?” she asked him.

  “From the driver, you know, the guy they call the Goon, little nice-looking guy. The only genuine degenerate in the whole fucking town.”

  Jody knew him, a small bland quiet boy of about twenty whom everybody in the company liked. “He got fired, I heard,” she said.

  “Well, I don’t blame them. He was always ripped. He was supposed to take some film to the Montgomery airport one afternoon you know, and he says to Lew, ‘Ah jes’ doan think ah kin fand th’ goddam airpoat,’ and so Lew fired his ass.”

  “Do you know where he lives?” Jody asked him. “I’d like to buy some weed, even though we’re through tomorrow, at least I am.”

  “I’m too tired,” Maggie said. “Have another belt of WT, you’ll feel better.”

  Jody got to her feet. “No, goddamn it, I want to boogie,” she said.

  Maggie came up to her, putting his hands lightly on her hips. “I’ll boogie with you,” he said in a soft voice. “But after we all get back to California. You know?”

  She kissed the tip of his nose and moved away from him. “I didn’t mean that, Maggie. When I’m with somebody I’m with them all the way. And I’m with Harry Lexington for the present time anyway. So just don’t make that mistake again, do you understand me?”

  He grinned. “Sure. I was only kidding anyhow.”

  “Kidding my ass. You wanted to jump into bed with me, and I’ll admit I like you. But no, baby. Now come on, let’s run over to the Goon’s place and see if he’s got anything.”

  “You won’t even pricktease me to get me to do it, will you,” Maggie said. “Shit, you might as well. Anybody see you coming out of my room’s going to think we’ve been balling anyway, won’t they?”

  “No I ain’t going to pricktease you. I don’t have to. You’ll do it anyway.”

  Maggie took a belt from the open bottle of Wild Turkey and said, “I guess you’re right. It’s too far to walk, and you’d get lost anyway.”

  “Do you want me to drive?” Jody asked. “You look kind of drunk.”

  “I’m not as drunk as you are,” Maggie said.

  “That’s true,” Jody said. “Let’s get that dope.”

  BUT THE Goon did not have any marijuana for sale. He lived in a small house-trailer in a lot filled with old car bodies out in back of a large frame boarding house. Maggie parked on the street and he and Jody walked down the dark path between cars and knocked at the door. After a moment the Goon opened up. He was sleepy-looking, wearing a white tee shirt and a pair of old shorts.

  “Well hi,” he said. “I was just laid back a little.” They entered the tiny crowded trailer. Jody noticed the smell of old sweat hanging sourly over everything and shuddered, because it reminded her of the lower East Side.

  “I hear you got fired,” Maggie said to the Goon. They were all sitting down, Maggie and the Goon on the messy bed, Jody on a pile of clothes and records in the one chair.

  “Well, they took my job away, but I don’t mind,” the Goon said. He smiled crookedly. “I have other sources of income.”

  “Well yeah,” Maggie said. “We came over in fact hoping you might sell us some weed. Just a lid, or even less if you can.”

  “Man, I’ll gladly share what I’ve got with you, but all it is is my personal stash. Things are drying up around here. I had to go clean to Mobile for that last pound I bought.” He reached under the bed and brought out a shoebox lid covered with twigs, seeds and a little marijuana. “I think maybe we can get two joints out of this.”

  “We can’t smoke your last weed,” Maggie said. He got to his feet.

  “The hell we can’t,” Jody said. “Don’t be in such a hurry.”

  “Really, we shouldn’t hang around,” Maggie said, but Jody was watching the Goon’s delicate fingers as he rolled the joints. As soon as the first one was finished he handed it to Jody, who lit it and passed it to Maggie, still standing by the door. It did not taste like the stuff they had had in Maggie’s room. It seemed stronger and not as harsh.

  “Good weed,” she said as soon as she let out her breath. “God, I hope it’s good anyway. I really need something.”

  “I hate to smoke and run,” Maggie said. He looked nervous underneath the blandness, Jody thought. He was probably put off by the smell of sweat, and it probably made him nervous to be someplace where he was not protected by the movie company. Come to think of it, back home in California he lived in a big house with a swimming pool. The poverty probably offended him, too.

  “You can go if you want,” Jody said in a strained voice. She was trying to hold her breath and talk at the same time. “I’m going to hang out.”

  Maggie’s lips went tight. She was sorry to see that; she had always liked this guy.

  “I can’t leave you here,” Maggie said. He stuck his hands aggressively into his front pockets.

  “Oh now, let’s not talk like that,” Jody said.

  “You’re both perfectly welcome to leave or stay,” said the Goon. He finished rolling the second joint and stuck it between his teeth like a cigar and grinned at Jody. She lit a match and held it out to him and he bent forward cupping the joint in his hand and looking into her eyes as he sucked in the smoke. Trying a little of the old sexy look, she thought. He must be a terror with the local chicks, with his drugs and his reputation. He leaned back and blew a gigantic smoke ring, then leaned forward and sucked the smoke back into his mouth. Aha, Jody thought.

  “Well, let’s get the hell out of here, okay?” Maggie said.

  “Oh, go fuck yourself,” Jody said. She held a joint up to him but Maggie refused to take it. He looked pretty angry. “Can you drive her back to the motel?” he asked the Goon.

  “Anything she wants, she gets,” he said.

  “All right then, goodbye,” Maggie said
and opened the door.

  “Get if you’re going,” Jody said. She wanted him gone, he was nothing but a big bringdown now. She stood up and said, “Are you waiting for a kiss goodbye?”

  Maggie got that look on his face that men get when they suddenly realize that three is a crowd, and went out the door backward, almost forgetting that there were two little metal steps to the ground, almost falling but hanging on to the door, and then slamming it shut with a tinny whack. She could hear his feet crunching angrily through the lot.

  “God, I thought he’d never go,” she said. “But don’t you get any ideas. I really feel like talking. I’ve been up all night. You wouldn’t believe the fucking day we had out there.”

  “I heard,” the Goon said. He leaned back against his pillow, relaxed, and took another hit off the joint he was holding. Jody finished hers, wet it and swallowed the roach.

  “Waste not, want not,” she said. “Shit, I went all this time with no booze, no weed, not even a fucking glass of wine with my goddamn dinner, just to keep from fucking up this movie, did you know that?”

  “I knew you wasn’t running around much,” he said. “I thought you’d be around, you know, you look like people, but then everybody else said you were really cold as hell, but I never believed it.”

  “You know me pretty well,” she said. She did not want to stand and she did not want to sit, so she more or less paced up and down in the tiny floor-space between the bed and the door while the Goon lay stretched out. The weed was good, much better than she had expected, and Jody felt that rising sense of joyful expectation she almost always got from good marijuana, as if something wonderful was just about to happen. “Goddamn, I feel good,” she said. “I haven’t felt this good since I left California. I really did it to those bastards,” she said. “I really knew I could do it. Nobody thought so but me, they always said, ‘Baby, you’re a good fuck, maybe even a great fuck, but you can’t act for shit.’ I never listened to them. Acting. What is it? You pretend to be somebody else for a while. I been somebody else all my life, haven’t you? You ever show yourself to people? I never do. I did my sister in this movie. She was the one who wanted to be in the movies. I never did. I just wanted to do it because she wanted to do it, and then you know you wake up one day and that’s all you can do, what you figured out for yourself when you were nothing but a goddamn kid. Fifteen years old, man, that’s when I decided to really get into it. I done everything but act. You wouldn’t believe. Maybe you would. Do you have any more dope? I really want to get it on. I’m not going to sleep tonight. I took a couple of reds and I’m still not sleepy, man. My head’s racing. I did it. Do you know what I mean? I mean I really pulled it off. For the first time in my cheap fucking life I did what I said I was going to do. All my life I couldn’t take the pressure, you know, but I took it. I ate the shit they asked me to eat and begged for more, because this time it was for me! Do you have any drugs?”