She stepped into the circle, and the static display instantly exploded into life. The crew started moving, talking, and working. Two goats played together, rearing up and banging their heads. Two stalled horses chewed hay and stared at the film crew.
Cass stepped out of the circle and, after a delay of two or three seconds, everything powered down. She looked over at Lenora, who had a pleased look on her face. “How is this even possible?” asked Cass.
“It’s the card you’re wearing around your neck. You are instantly recognized by every cast member in every exhibit. Now keep going; it gets even better,” said Lenora.
Cass stepped back into the illuminated circle, and the scene sprang back to life. The director, who’d previously been frozen with his eye up to the camera, walked straight up to Cass and said, “Now remember, Cass, Simon’s Glory has just been taken in the claiming race, and Sarah doesn’t know it. All she knows is that he won the race, and she’s happy. Are you ready?”
“Uh…yes,” said Cass.
The director stepped back and said, “Sound, camera, marker.”
A camera assistant popped in front of the camera with his clapperboard and said, “Scene one, take one.”
“And…action,” said the director.
Cass heard a voice hollering, “Maggie! Maggie! Maggie!” A girl charged hard through the open barn door. She suddenly put on the brakes and happily slid for ten feet on the slippery plank floor.
It was Lenora! An exact android replica of Lenora, as she had played the role of Sarah Simon back in 1954, now stood just a few feet from Cass. That slide into the barn had become an icon of American movie history—even if Cass had never been impressed by it.
“What do you say now, Maggie? Is Simon still a cart horse?” said Sarah.
“Uh…no…Sarah…Simon’s not a…cart horse,” stumbled Cass. Then she saw her lines projected on the wall, and she continued, “He’s a…champion. And you…uh…knew it—”
“Stop, stop. Keep rolling,” said the director. “Cass, what’s going on? You sound like you’re counting pickles in a pickle factory.”
“I know, I know, sorry,” said Cass.
“OK, take it from ‘No, Sarah.’ And…action,” said the director.
“No, Sarah. Simon’s not a cart horse. He’s a champion. And you knew it from the beginning. When we gave up, you still believed in him. He’s everything you believed, Sarah. Everything. And I want you to always remember it, because you’re the one who made it possible.”
“And cut! That’s the way, Cass. Beautiful. Print it,” said the director.
Young Lenora walked up to Cass and said, “Good job, Cass. Keep up the good work. And do not forget to pick up a copy of our scene from the gift store. I think you will like it.”
“Thank you, Miss Danmore; I appreciate it,” said Cass.
Young Lenora left the barn the same way she’d entered, and the crew went back to their original positions. That’s when Cass came to her senses and wondered what the hell had just happened. They were robots! She’d just apologized to a robot director and groveled before a robot actor. She didn’t do that to real humans! She stepped outside the circle. After a few seconds the robots powered down. Cass looked at Lenora. She was smiling more than ever. All right, time to regroup. This isn’t how the meeting is supposed to be going, thought Cass.
“Your professional instincts kicked in. I saw it,” said Lenora when Cass joined her on the bench. Lenora took one of Cass’s hands and continued: “I’m sorry, dear; I should have warned you that I added this little experiment to our meeting. We’ve tested on hundreds of regular people but not once on an actor. I’m very pleased with the results.”
“I’m happy it turned out that way because I need your help, as well,” said Cass, in a businesslike way.
“Yes, I know you do. I can’t make any guarantees, but we did make a deal, so here we are,” said Lenora, giving Cass’s hand a little squeeze before letting go.
“And I’m glad we’re finally here, Lenora. I almost started thinking that you might be trying to avoid me,” said Cass.
“Oh heavens, dear. I wish my life had that much drama. Unfortunately, it’s just old age. I don’t get around like I used to, and all correspondence is handled by Micah.”
Ah, Micah Bailey, the rodent with perfect hair. Cass had some pointed questions on that topic, but she didn’t dare waste her opportunity. Instead, she pressed forward: “I need to ask you about my mother, Wendy Rainy.”
“That’s what I assumed, but we need to be very clear about something, Cassandra. I agreed to a meeting, but that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about everything under the sun. That business happened seventy years ago, and with my failing memory, it would be too easy to misremember and cause serious damage, not just to myself but to others as well. Besides, the whole sad saga has been covered from a dozen different angles, and nothing has ever changed.”
“Maybe that’s because everyone has focused on the wrong thing,” said Cass.
“And what does that mean?”
“They focused on what can be seen instead of what’s missing,” said Cass, as she retrieved a paper from her handbag. She held it up and said, “This is a copy of the letter addressed to Wendy Rainy from the Chicago Communist Party. It was the evidence used against her—”
“I know what it is. What’s your point?”
“We know this was given to the FBI by one of her roommates, but we don’t know which one. We also know she had only three roommates from the time she moved to Hollywood: you and two others. And that’s what’s missing: your file. Why does the FBI have files on the other two roommates but not on you?”
“Because I’m not a communist.”
“And neither were they.”
“Then I don’t know. Maybe you should ask the FBI,” said Lenora.
“I did,” said Cass, “through the Freedom of Information Act, and I got nothing.”
“So now, based upon nothing but your imagination, you’ve embarked on the grand crusade,” said Lenora. “I have to ask myself: Why? What arrogance would compel you to disturb other people’s lives in such a manner?”
“It’s not other people, Lenora. It’s me, my life. I lived under the weight of that blacklist almost as much as my mother. And I still do. That’s what happens when you grow up with a broken mother. It never leaves you.”
“I’m sorry for that,” said Lenora, “just as I’m sorry for anyone who suffers, but your whole mistaken premise seems to be that since you can’t find a certain file—that never existed in the first place—then I must be guilty of something.”
“You’re leaving out the important part,” said Cass. “My mother had been cast as Ruby in Monty’s Revenge. After she got blacklisted, the part went to you. You were the only one who benefited.”
“That’s a lie that has been refuted in court.”
“Not exactly,” said Cass. “It never made it to court because you paid off your accusers, and they changed their stories.”
Lenora stared sadly into Cass’s eyes for a moment and then said, “You and I are connected in so many ways, Cassandra, including a relationship with your wonderful mother. I very much wanted this meeting to go well, and it saddens me to have to tell you that if you persist in this witch hunt, it will end in regret and attorney fees, and all of it will be on you. I won’t have any other choice.”
“Actually, I’m glad you brought that up, Lenora, because there is an easier way to settle it; just give me a copy of your birth certificate,” said Cass.
When Lenora heard the words “birth certificate,” her face flushed white, and a tiny muscle in her cheek began twitching. If this had happened on set, she no doubt would have demanded a reshoot. She couldn’t do that now. Cass continued: “You see, Lenora, I searched every name associated with my mother’s case, including your birth name, Carolyn Anna Voyt. When everything came back blank, I hired a detective to chase down the Voyt family from
Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He had no trouble finding them, and it turns out that Adam and Monica did indeed have a daughter named Carolyn. But she wasn’t a famous actress. She was a bookkeeper in a sausage factory. She died in 1998. I’m sure you can see how all this makes me wonder what you might be hiding.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” said Lenora. “My birth name is Carolyn Voyt. You can send your detective back to Milwaukee, and he’ll find school records and photographs and medical records that all belong to me. I can’t help it if some lady in a sausage factory happens to have the same name. How do you know they sent the correct birth certificate? Voyt is a very common name in Milwaukee.”
“Like I said, there’s a simple way to settle it. Just give me a copy of the one you have, and I’ll try again.”
Cass had her. She saw it in the involuntary darting of the eyes as Lenora searched in vain for an escape. Cass continued: “In case you don’t know, Lenora, I can turn all this over to the Internet, and I’ll have an answer in twenty-four hours. A picture of the bogus certificate, a tempting reward, and ten million Internet junkies will go to work. I almost did it when I couldn’t arrange a meeting. But now here we are. We might as well do it right.”
Lenora remained silent for a moment and then said, “What happens after you do your search and find nothing?”
“Then I move on, still looking, but not looking at you.”
“And would you be willing to tell the media that I’ve been exonerated?”
“Yes, I would,” said Cass.
“And we will be friends once again?”
This last turn in the conversation surprised Cass, but, then again, maybe it didn’t. Lenora had the strong personality of someone who had climbed to the very top of Hollywood. For her the idea of running up the white flag might take a little while longer to sink in. For now Cass didn’t mind playing along. She answered the question: “Yes, friends once again.”
“Then I’ll do it. I’ll break my rule and do it. But it’s going to take a few weeks…because…it’s…uh…coming from a foreign country.”
The two ladies shared tepid smiles before Lenora said, “Now that we have that unfortunate business behind us, perhaps you will be willing to step into the circle and test one more scene for me? The grand opening is just a few months away, and we’re terribly behind schedule.”
“I think I can do that,” said Cass. She stood and walked toward the circle.
“Cassandra,” said Lenora.
Cass turned back. “Yes, Lenora.”
“Just for curiosity sake, what are your intentions…if you ever find the person you’re looking for?”
Cass smiled genuinely and said, “To destroy their life like they destroyed my mother’s. And it doesn’t matter if they are dead or alive. I’ll ruin them forever.” And then she stepped into the circle, and the set came back to life, just as before, except now Sarah Simon (Lenora the robot), who had entered the barn, looked to be seventeen or eighteen years old and fully grown.
“OK, girls,” said the robot director. “Sarah has just found out about Maggie’s engagement to Byron Snedeger, and she is deeply hurt and not thinking clearly. Are you ready?”
“Sure, let’s do it,” said Cass.
“Sound, camera, marker.”
“Scene two, take one.”
“And…action!”
Sarah stood about fifteen feet away and clutched a blue wildflower in one hand, held out slightly in front of her body. She stared intently at Cass. She started to approach, in a creeping, funereal kind of way. She didn’t smile or blink. Cass struggled to remember the scene, without success. She looked for her lines projected on the wall, like before, but found none. Sarah continued to approach until the two stood face to face just inches apart.
“This is for you, Maggie…to remember the way things used to be,” said Sarah. She handed the wildflower to Cass and continued: “And this is for the way things are now.” Sarah raised her right hand and slapped Cass across the face. The violent force of the blow threw Cass out of the circle and planted her facedown on the floor. Cass moaned and rubbed her cheek. The robots powered down. After a few seconds, she propped herself up on an elbow. She wiped the tears from her eyes and saw two legs standing before her. They belonged to Lenora.
“Oh my. I guess we have a small glitch,” said Lenora.
Cass looked up in time to see a thin smile pass from Lenora’s wrinkled lips. Cass then sat up the rest of the way and said, “I like your museum, Lenora, but you might want to think about the part where the customer gets bitch-slapped by the robot.”
Chapter four
Brandi turned the corner on her way back from wardrobe and saw a black limousine parked next to her trailer. It hadn’t been there earlier in the day. She didn’t like it. Powerful people rode in limousines, and, in her experience, they didn’t mind throwing that power around.
She pretended to ignore the car and made a show of fussing for her trailer key. But then the uniformed driver got out of the car and opened the back door. He said, “Please get in, Miss Bonacore.”
Get in, my ass, thought Brandi. She stopped ten feet short of the car and looked inside. Lenora Danmore sat in one of the backseats. She looked mad. Without saying a word, she pointed at an empty seat, and Brandi obediently climbed in. The driver closed the door.
The two ladies sat facing each other. Lenora just stared.
“To the club, Charles,” said Brandi, in a bad English accent.
Lenora didn’t crack a smile. Brandi thought about telling a dirty joke. Lenora held out a small cream-colored envelope. Brandi took the envelope and said, “What is it?”
“It’s the answers to this week’s competition, so I guess you can call it a free pass. And there will be more for the following shows. In fact, I expect that you are going to have a very profitable relationship with StarBash Productions.”
“Yeah, and what do I gotta do for you?” asked Brandi.
“You don’t have a high regard for the etiquette of deal making, do you, Miss Bonacore?”
“Since I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’d say probably not.”
“All right. Here’s what I expect,” said Lenora. “You will have a long run on the show, and you will win more than your fair share of the contests. In return you will not fire Cassandra Moreaux. You will keep her on the show.”
“Forever?”
“Until I say otherwise.”
Brandi agreed, and the meeting ended. But as soon as she got into her trailer, she tore the cheat sheet into a hundred little pieces. She wanted to win. She wanted it badly. But not like that.
***
Micah attached the air hose to the orbital sander and studied the security monitors. They showed two of his security guards escorting Cassandra Moreaux to his workshop. He had a regular office upstairs next to Lenora’s but didn’t like it. It contained too much persnickety technology—computers, printers, routers, apps, boots, reboots, bugs, crashes—and not enough power tools. So, after construction on the museum finished, he moved everything down to the new workshop, and that kind of evened things out. Lenora threw a fit, but he didn’t mind. She needed a steady supply of monkey wrenches to keep her in check.
His eyes swept over the workshop and noticed the picture of his wife on his desk. Actually it was his ex-wife. He quickly went over and put the picture in one of the desk drawers. He didn’t like explaining it to strangers—mostly because he couldn’t even explain it to himself. He glanced again at the security monitors. Everything looked good. Professional. His guards had their fawning under control, and Princess Cassandra didn’t seem to be throwing a tantrum. They still had a few hundred yards to go, so he returned to the sander and turned the buzzing device loose on the hood of the car.
The picture changed a few minutes later when the threesome skipped into the shop like they’d just been frolicking on the yellow brick road. One look at the star-struck faces said it all; his normally leth
argic guards looked exuberant. Micah found it embarrassing. And aggravating. If these same two guys met someone who actually deserved their attention, like a scientist or an inventor, they’d nod their heads and go sneak a nap in the break room.
“Micah, Micah, take a picture of me and Casmo. My wife’s gonna die!” said Manny.
“Yeah, yeah, me too, Micah,” said Jabril.
“Hold on, boys,” said Cassandra, “One at a time. You first, Manny, but first you have to tell me, is your wife the jealous type?”
“Uh…yeah, she kinda is.”
“OK, then let’s just do a side-by-side with a big smile for the camera. Are you ready, Mr. Cameraman?” said Cass.
She liked barking out orders. What a surprise, thought Micah. He took a phone from his pocket and snapped the picture.
“Now what about your wife, Jabril? Is she jealous?” asked Cassandra.
“Nah, not her. She thinks I’m too ugly to worry about,” said Jabril.
“Really. Maybe we should give her something to think about. Let’s do a friendly cheek-to-cheek smile for the camera,” said Cass.
The giddy guard and the big movie star embraced, and Micah took the picture.
“Uh…I just remembered…my wife’s not jealous either. Can I get another one?” said Manny.
“Really, Manny? All right, this can be your secret one,” said Cassandra.
After another pose and another ridiculous picture, Micah put away the phone and said, “That’s it, guys; the photo shoot is over. Time to get back to work.”
“What about you, Micah? Don’t you want one?” asked Manny.
Unfortunately, before Micah had the pleasure of answering that absurd question, Jabril said, “You idiot. They’re on the show together. Why would he want a picture when he’s got that?”
“I don’t know,” said Manny, as he and Jabril started to leave. “Maybe he doesn’t have enough memory on his phone for the show, so maybe he wants a picture instead.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re ugly…just like your wife says.”
Death of a Movie Star Page 3