“You mean this?”
“Exactly.”
“What about it?”
“You know the words to the Marine Corp hymn?”
“Not by heart.”
“From the halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli,” Clay said.
“Oh, yeah,” Annie said.
“That will be the backdrop for this movie. It’ll be a sweeping historical epic – kind of a Dr. Zhivago meets the Barbary pirates. Silver Screen Artists is working on casting the leads right now, and there is a female lead that calls for a strong woman caught in the middle of this war and the man she loves. And I’m thinking you.”
“Me?” Annie said.
“This would put you on the map. ‘Indiana Jones’ made Kate Capshaw. ‘Pretty Woman’ made Julia Roberts. And ‘Tripoli’ could make you. The only question is – how bad do you want it?”
“What do I have to do?”
“Three things you have to do, and I’ll make you immortal.”
“Ok – what are they?”
“Number one – dump the agent you’ve got now and let me represent you.”
“Why?”
“He’s small potatoes. He’ll never get you the big roles you need. I can open the doors to Paramount, Warner Brothers, Columbia, and more. He can’t. I can.”
“Ok – what else?”
“Number two – ditch your TV series before you get pigeon-holed.”
“What? The series is a big hit. If I leave, my fans will kill me.”
“The series will end someday anyway, and when you try to land a movie role, you’ll be tarred with the Lorne Greene Syndrome.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s when audiences are so used to seeing you in a certain role, they won’t accept you playing anything else. All the audiences could see was Ben Cartwright and no filmmaker would touch him.”
“But I see TV actresses getting movie roles. What about Jennifer Aniston or Kristen Wiig?”
“Comedies, all comedies – and comedies don’t win Academy Awards. Dramas do. And that’s where you need to be.” Annie felt her resolve weakening.
“All right. What’s the third thing?” Annie said. Clay paused for a moment, then drew closer.
“Why don’t we finish this meeting upstairs,” Clay said.
“Upstairs?” Annie repeated. “What do you mean?”
“I mean your suite. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable up there? You could get out of those tight jeans and, you know.”
Annie heard rumors of the legendary casting couch and some of the women who fast-tracked their career by trading sexual favors for high profile acting parts, but she had never been so blatant a target of this practice, which she considered dead and buried in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein scandal. But she desperately wanted to believe that she might be misinterpreting Clay’s innocent suggestions with the worst possible of intentions.
“I’m ok right here. I don’t see how we can be more comfortable upstairs, do you?” Annie said, hoping this diplomatic reply might save face and allow the meeting to continue at a professional level. Clay would not be deterred.
“Annie, you need to know how this works. You think Elizabeth Taylor got the Cleopatra role because of her acting chops? No - she got it because Joan Collins, who was first in line for that role, didn’t know how to say thank-you properly. Now, I can open the doors for you to fame, fortune, and a Hollywood life of royalty that thousands of young talented women would give anything – anything to receive. Because, sweetheart, in this town talent is not enough. The coffee shops are full of waitresses waiting for that casting that will be their big break. Now, you’ve already passed that hurdle, but you’re not there yet. You need one or two career-making movie roles that will cement your place as an A-lister. So, what do you say we go upstairs and find out if you know how to say thank-you.”
Annie felt sick to her stomach. If this was the tollgate to glory in Hollywood, it was a bridge too far. She gathered her thoughts and fashioned a reply with as much deference as possible.
“I realize you’re offering me the world,” Annie said. “But you’re asking for my soul in return. I don’t know if the world is worth that. Can you give me a day or two to think about it? I promise you won’t be disappointed.” Clay smiled. In his day he’d been slapped in the face by most women insulted by his “thank-you speech”, but he’d also been treated to many a night of bliss by others. He was willing to wait a day or two to see which way Annie would lean. He really didn’t care one way or the other. If she said “No”, there were 20 other girls waiting right now for the same speech.
“Sure,” he said. “Let me know before the Golden Globes.” He rose and walked out. Annie went to her suite and dialed a number.
“It’s after 9:00 – what’s up?” Finney said.
“I need some of your wisdom,” Annie said. “Can you come over?”
“I’m on my way,” Finney said. In about 20 minutes Annie heard a knock on her door. Finney showed up in black running tights and a hooded sweatshirt.
“What’s rocking your world?” Finney said. Annie summarized the sexual ultimatum presented by Clay. She smiled.
“Welcome to Hollywood,” Finney said.
“What do I do?” Annie said.
“Put your jacket on – let’s go for a ride,” Finney said. They jumped in Finney’s 2018 Altima and they drove into the Hollywood Hills.
“Where are we going?” Annie said.
“You’ll see. Trust me,” Finney said. They took Lake Hollywood Drive past the lake, through a small park, and then a sharp corner and, suddenly the legendary Hollywood sign appeared, big as life. The sign loomed high into the night sky, almost like it was floating overhead.
“Here we are,” Finney said. They climbed out of the car and walked to the base of the 45-foot-tall ‘H’ of this gigantic ‘HOLLYWOOD’ landmark. They sat down and leaned against the ‘H’ and stared down at the glimmering Los Angeles basin.
“Ok,” Annie said. “What are we doing here?”
“Ever heard of an actress named Peg Entwistle?” Finney said.
“Can’t say that I have,” Annie said.
“And why should you?’ Finney said. “She was a Hollywood wannabe back in the 1930s. She had the looks and ambition to be something big. In fact, Bette Davis idolized her in her early days.”
“She must not have made it, or we’d all know her name,” Annie said.
“You’re right about that, but it wasn’t for lack of trying,” Finney said. “I consider her story a cautionary tale for any young starry-eyed girl looking for Hollywood to make their dreams come true.”
“I’m listening,” Annie said.
“She tried to break into the New York Broadway scene in the 1920s with mixed success. In 1931 she moved to Los Angeles to try her hand at making it big in the movies. But with so many other young beauties flocking to Hollywood to become the next big star, Peg struggled to stand out and get noticed. In the summer of 1932 she finally caught a break and was cast in a big film called “Thirteen Women”. But most of her scenes ended up getting cut from the final movie. She was devastated. To make matters worse, she was let go from her RKO contract, with no money and no backup plan.”
“What did she do?” Annie asked.
“On the night of September 16,1932, at the age of 24, she hiked up this canyon and climbed up to the base of this HOLLYWOOD sign, right where we are now. Nobody knows how long she stood here overlooking the town that broke her heart and shattered her dreams, but finally she climbed up a maintenance ladder attached to this 45-foot-tall letter H, and jumped to her death. She left a suicide note that read, ‘If I had done this a long time ago, it would have saved me a lot of pain’.”
“That’s awful,” Annie whispered. They sat in silence for a few minutes letting the story sink in.
“And your point is?” Annie said.
“For Peg Entwistle life wasn’t worth living if she didn’t make it big,” Finney said. “S
o, how important is Hollywood glory to you?”
“It’s not worth dying for,” Annie said.
“Then, that’s your answer to Clay Devons. Because if you give him what he wants, you’re as dead as if you jumped off the Hollywood sign.”
Chapter 16
Back in her hotel room around 11:00 p.m., Annie changed into her cozy night shirt and slid under the covers, but found herself staring at the ceiling. Perhaps it is true that the cost of glory should be too high, she thought, otherwise we should grow too fond of it.
Back home in Billings, Phil lay in bed sound asleep. With the one-hour time difference, it was midnite when the ring of his cell phone woke him. He checked the caller ID, then cleared his throat, hoping to sound wide awake.
“Did I wake you up?” Annie said.
“No, I was reading ‘The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire’. Couldn’t put it down. Riveting stuff,” Phil said. Annie chuckled.
“You are such a liar,” Annie said.
“How’d your day go?” Phil said.
“Oh, Phil, you just can’t believe the staggering excess of this town. It’s so overwhelming,” Annie said.
“Yeah, being treated like royalty gets pretty boring after a while. How can you stand it?” Phil said.
“I could get used to it,” Annie said.
“I hope not, ‘cause it’s all an illusion, and it all ends sooner or later,” Phil said.
“I’ve never felt this important before,” Annie said.
“But you were. Don’t you remember? When you took care of your Mom in her last months, you were everything to her. It doesn’t get more important than that. And when I fell in love with you, you became the center of my universe. That’s real,” Phil said. “Not fan mail.”
“I know,” Annie said.
“I love you, every little inch of you. The freckle on your cheek, your toes, the shape of your belly button, the way you laugh, the twinkle in your eyes. The way you look at me when you say ‘I love you.’” Phil said.
“I know,” Annie said.
“Just don’t forget what’s real,” Phil said.
v
Jan 8 – With the foreign press put to bed, Annie faced her next press relations hurdle – the American media. The entertainment editor of several major newspapers in the country sought a few minutes from Annie with questions to which their readers simply demanded answers. Twenty periodicals reserved their twenty-minute slot in the same interview room as the foreign press held court. In addition to the major dailies, several entertainment magazines sent reporters for any nuggets that Annie might disclose with their readers. They included the likes of Entertainment Weekly, People, Ladies Home Journal, Parade, and Variety. Even True West Magazine sought to cash in on the western renaissance that Rangeland fueled across the country.
Annie and her makeup team worked in earnest from 6:00 a.m. until 7:45 to showcase Annie with the elegance of a lady and her zest for the American west. At 7:55 she took her seat for lighting and sound checks. At 8:00 on the nose the entertainment reporter from Variety Magazine sat across from Annie. The production director gave the reporter his cue and the day began.
“Is your first name really Annie,” the reporter began.
“It’s actually Annette, but I hated that name. Only my mother called me Annette. But it doesn’t really fit me. I’m an Annie. Some people call me ‘Miss B,’ some call me ‘Anne,’ so feel free, call me anything but don’t call me Annette.”
Entertainment Weekly asked if she had any celebrity crushes as a teenager.
“I kinda had a thing for Matt Damon, when I was younger, but don’t tell him I said that,” she confessed.
People Magazine asked if she admired any actresses in particular.
“Now you are really putting me on the spot. There’s so many I admire. Meg Ryan, Sandra Bullock, Holly Hunter, I loved all the movies they made,” Annie said.
Ladies Home Journal wanted to know her favorite movie of all time.
“The Notebook,” she said without hesitation. “I watch it anytime it’s on TV. Such a heart-breaker.”
During her lunch break, Annie called Phil and it went to voice mail. She decided to call The Sanctuary front desk.
“Oh, hi, Annie,” Tina, the office manager, said.
“Is Phil in?”
“No, he had to make a run to the hospital to visit Ms. Carmichael. He should be back in an hour. You want me to have him call you?”
“No, I’m getting ready to finish my interviews. Tell him I’ll call him tonight.”
True West Magazine capped off the day around 4:30, asking Annie for any advice she might offer to young girls aspiring to ride a horse as good as ‘Audrey Mansion” in the show.
“There are schools that teach barrel racing. That would be a good place to start,” Annie said. “When I got good enough, I started competing in rodeos. It was a lot of fun.”
“And that’s a wrap,” the segment producer said. Annie couldn’t wait to get outside and breathe fresh air. Finney followed her.
“Let’s go somewhere,” Annie said.
“OK, where?” Finney asked.
“Anywhere. Let’s get away from the crowds.”
“I know just the place,” Finney said. They changed clothes and jumped in the limo.
“Griffith Park Observatory,” Finney told the driver. He nodded and pulled out of the hotel parking lot. Forty minutes later they pulled into the Observatory entrance, in the Hollywood Hills. Annie and Finney climbed out and walked to the west side of the stately building to a platform overlooking the Los Angeles basin, just as the sun was setting. The twinkling lights of the city stretched to the horizon. About a mile away the iconic Hollywood sign stood tall on the foothills. Annie saw it and thought, “Been there – done that.”
They sat on a bench and inhaled the serenity.
“I always pick up good feng shui here,” Finney said.
“This is about as close as it gets to the quiet evening breeze in Montana,” Annie said.
“You miss it?” Finney said.
“More than I care to admit.”
Finney excused herself for a period of meditation out on the front lawn. Annie sat mesmerized at the lights of the city down below. In about an hour Finney checked her watch.
“We need to pick up your gown and get some dinner.”
v
The day before the Golden Globes, Phil welcomed the Montana State Health Inspection team to The Sanctuary for their annual survey of the assisted living and nursing care wings. The team scored the facility along nine broad categories: 1) quality of care, 2) mistreatment, 3) resident rights, 4) resident assessment, 5) nursing care, 6) nutrition & Dietary, 7) pharmacy, 8) environmental, and 9) administration. In the previous year the national average for health citations was 8.1, and for Montana the average facility received 6.4 citations. Of the seven nursing homes and ten assisted living facilities in Billings, only two received a deficiency-free report card the previous year. The Sanctuary was one of them. It was a very coveted achievement, and Phil determined to repeat that score for a second year.
Elpie Shackley, the Director of the Assisted Living wing, stood ready to answer any questions and tour the inspection team through her physical plant. Her books were open to examine resident care for the previous year. Likewise, Evelyn Baker, the Nursing Home Administrator at The Sanctuary, ran a tight ship and expected the survey team to award her with back-to-back perfect scores.
As the inspection team made their rounds, Phil peeled off to greet a new Nurse’s Aid to the facility, Jessica Strait. He met her in Evelyn Baker’s office.
“Jessica, this is Phil Branson, the Executive Director of The Sanctuary,” Evelyn said. Phil reached over and shook Jessica’s hand. She was in her late 20s with a trim figure, shoulder length brown hair, and a winning smile.
“So nice to meet you, Mr. Branson,” Jessica said. “Always good to start things off on the right foot with the boss.”
“Where you fr
om?” Phil asked.
“I’m from Billings,” Jessica said.
“I like you already,” Phil said. Jessica smiled.
“I graduated from the nursing program at City College,” Jessica said.
“Good program,” Evelyn added.
“Why did you want to be a nurse’s aide?” Phil said.
“Well, the CNA program doesn’t take long to complete, it’s not very expensive, and I enjoy taking care of people,” Jessica said.
“Good, ‘cause you’ll get a lot of chances to do just that,” Phil said. “So, welcome aboard.” Then Phil turned to Evelyn.
“How are we looking for today?” Phil said.
“The place is clean as a whistle. We’ll do just fine,” Evelyn said. “I’m just on my way to check in with the surveyors. Jessica, why don’t you come along with me? It’ll be good experience.”
“Let’s do it,” Jessica said.
Phil left the nursing center wing and entered the assisted living wing, connected by an enclosed corridor. He found Elpie, the Assisted Living Director, sitting at the nursing station on the phone.
“No, we need the shrink wrap single dose medications for Mrs. Goldsmith today – not tomorrow,” Elpie said into the receiver. “That’s right, have a courier deliver it before noon.” She saw Phil approaching and gave him a head nod. “That’ll be fine. Good-bye.” She stood up to greet Phil. “I swear, if you don’t double check and triple check, they’ll deliver Adderall here and beta blockers to the pre-school,” Elpie said. Phil noticed a couple of inspectors pouring through files in the office.
“How are we looking?” Phil said. Elpie flashed a quick look over her shoulder to the window of the office.
“It’s clean as a surgical suite,” Elpie said. We got everything under control.” Just then Dillie Mertz, one of the assisted living residents, passed the nursing station wearing her overcoat, a straw hat, and carrying a small suitcase. She was what the industry affectionately labeled “pleasantly confused”. Now in her early 70s, her cognitive skills declined for the last decade. When her husband died in Vietnam, the loss crushed her and she fell into a deep depression. She gave birth to a son who never knew his father, and tragically died in a car accident himself twenty years earlier, leaving Dillie bereft and inconsolable. Something in her brain short-circuited and began forgetting names, places, and time. For her own safety, her family placed her at The Sanctuary, to prevent her from doing any harm to herself.
The Sanctuary II: Lost and Found Page 11