A Season of Dreams

by Gilbert, Morris

  Finally they left, at her insistence, although it was only eleven—and he took her for a long drive. He drove with the convertible’s top down. They came to a stop at her house and he shut the engine off. He turned to her and said, “Now, I’ve warned you to beware of some men and I’ve said that I’m not a big bad wolf.” He laughed softly and said, “Think about those two things.”

  Bonnie knew that he was going to kiss her. She did not draw back as he put his arms around her and drew her close. She wondered, Thirty million women would like to be kissed by Brent Peters. Now, I’m going to see if he’s different from other men.

  He was certainly expert. His lips came down on her gently at first, then with an added pressure. His hand caressed her back sending slight shivers up her spine. There was, as she found, something to sex appeal. It was not just something that appeared on the screen. She was stirred by his kiss and was a little shocked at her reaction. She kept her lips on his until finally he drew back and lifted one eyebrow. “Well, I intended to frighten you, but I see that’s not going to be possible.”

  Bonnie laughed suddenly. “I wanted to know if a matinee idol kissed any better than John Doe.” Her eyes sparkled and she looked very attractive in the moonlight. There was a smoothness in her face, an even symmetry, and her lips curved attractively as she smiled at him. “I must say, you kiss very well—but I’m not sure it’s all that much better than Mr. Doe’s.”

  Brent found her comments delightful. He laughed, slapping his hands together. “You’re not giving me a fair chance,” he protested. “No man can kiss better than all those images that you see on the screen.”

  “How much of that is real?” Bonnie asked. “Are you really like those dashing heroes?”

  “Not at all,” he assured her. “We matinee idols are just like all other men. If you prick us do we not bleed?”

  “I know that. It’s from The Merchant of Venice.”

  “Right!” He was surprised, then shrugged. “I don’t know why I didn’t expect you to know that. Have you read much literature?” When she rattled off her list of accomplishments, he nodded. “That’s good. Those are the sorts of things I’d like to read. I’d like to try Shakespeare, but I suppose people would laugh.”

  “Why should they laugh?”

  “Oh, it’s like, what’s this fellow’s name—Weissmuller, who plays Tarzan in this new movie, swinging through the trees—‘Me Tarzan, you Jane.’”

  “Yes, he was a swimmer.”

  “Fine athlete, but all he has to say is ‘Me Tarzan, you Jane.’ If he tried to play Shakespeare, I think he’d have some difficulty getting people to accept him.”

  They talked for a long time and she discovered that, surprisingly enough, there was a little area of doubt in the man. She mentioned this. “I wouldn’t have thought you had any doubts.”

  “Don’t be foolish. Every man has doubts—and every woman—I suppose.”

  His remark caught at her and she sat running her hand suddenly over her hair. “I don’t know about all women, but I have mine.”

  “You’ve never been in love?”

  The question came so quickly that she answered, “Yes—” She caught herself and closed her lips.

  Peters was a perceptive man. “Wounded in love,” he said softly. “Well, the old idea of Cupid with an arrow seems rather cute, but you know, getting pierced with an arrow really isn’t a pleasant thing. Most love isn’t either, I think—if there is such a thing as real love.”

  “Why do you say that, Brent?”

  “Most people when they talk about love are saying, ‘What will you give me?’” He shifted in his seat, put his hands on the steering wheel, and gripped it tightly. He rocked back and forth for a minute thinking over his words, then turned to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Somehow there’s got to be a love that says, ‘What can I give you?’ don’t you think?”

  She was pleased with the gentleness that she saw in him. “I think that’s nice,” she said. Then he leaned forward and kissed her again. This time he was more insistent. She pulled away sharply and smiled. “The big bad wolf is showing his teeth. I’ll see you later, Brent. It’s been a lovely evening.” She got out of the car, leaned over and said, “Next time, I’ll fix supper. I can cook better than that bunch down at Ryan’s.”

  Brent laughed as she moved away, and as he left, guiding the Packard with careless ease down the street, he was whistling a tune, rather off key, something he hadn’t caught himself doing for a long time. He stopped whistling abruptly and grinned. “You’d have to go native if you chased that one, Brent old boy. She’s not your typical Hollywood starlet.”

  The problem exploded, seemingly, out of nowhere. Bonnie had invited Brent in for a meal, and they had enjoyed a fine evening together. It had been pleasant, from her standpoint. She was greeted by Jerry later in the week, and he attacked her at once. “What are you doing running around with that guy Peters?” he demanded. He had met her in the hall at the studio and had pulled her into a small room used for conferences. His eyes were snapping and she could tell there was a tenseness in him she had not seen.

  “Why, Jerry, I’ve only gone out with him twice.”

  “That’s twice too many,” he said. “You’ve got to stop it, Bonnie. You just don’t know what kind of man he is.”

  “I think I do,” Bonnie said rather coldly. “He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

  “That’s just his act,” Jerry grunted. He had heard about Peters dating Bonnie and it had upset him. He had gone to Jesse, insisting that he tell her to show some sense. “She’s a grown woman,” Jesse had said, “and has more sense than most men that I know.”

  Now Jerry and Bonnie stood squared off like antagonists. Bonnie was filled with burning anger as he continued to tell her how she didn’t know what she was doing. Finally, she shoved by him, stopping at the door and saying, “You’ve run your own life so wonderfully, Jerry, I suppose now you’ve set out to help the rest of us poor mortals to avoid mistakes. Good to know that there’s one in this life so perfect that he’s able to handle everybody’s problems.”

  The door slammed and Jerry stared after her. His face was pale and he was shocked to find out how the quarrel disturbed him. He took a deep breath and set his jaw stubbornly. “All right, Bonnie,” he whispered, “but I’m still right and you’re still wrong.”

  A NARROW ESCAPE

  The making of The Pilot proceeded with all the difficulties, obstacles, and frustrations that accompany such productions. Since much of the action took place in the air, fine weather was required—not only for safety, but for good lighting for the cameras. Gavin flew the camera plane, while Jerry and Cara doubled for the stars in the other aircraft. Several days were lost when an unprecedented series of thunderstorms swept over the area. This threw the production behind, and it was on a cloudy Thursday morning with the group gathered in the hangar when Lylah finally lost her temper.

  Glaring up at the clouds, she spat out the words, “We moved the motion picture industry to California from New York for good weather. We might as well move back!”

  Jesse was wearing an old white shirt and a pair of disreputable slacks that he was inordinately fond of. He excused his mode of dress by claiming to be a writer, and all writers are eccentric.

  But now he moved over and looked out the hangar door, then turned with a hopeful expression. “It’s clearing off. I think in an hour or two we might be able to do some filming. What do you think, Gavin?”

  Gavin glanced up at the sky and shrugged his shoulders. “We can get above it, I think, if we have to.”

  Jerry was sitting with Cara at a table. They were drinking coffee, and both looked a little upset. Cara had put on her lipstick with a shaky hand and now said stubbornly, “Sure, we can do it. What difference does a little rain make?”

  Gavin turned and studied her face. At thirty-four she was still a beautiful woman, but hard living had drawn some lines that had not been there a few years prior. She was stil
l a tremendous flier and always had been. But he thought, She was out drinking again last night. It’s going to get her killed one of these days.

  His eyes shifted to Jerry, who looked sullen in the early morning light. I’d hate for Jerry to go down with her on one of her fool daredevil stunts, but I can’t talk to him. Aloud, Gavin said, “Let’s give it a couple of hours, or even until noon. We ought to be able to get in four or five hours of flying.”

  “Come on, let’s go. We can’t do any good here, Jesse,” Lylah said. She glanced at Gavin and said, “You know the sequence? It sounds pretty dangerous to me.”

  “Ought to be all right,” Gavin nodded. “We’ve all done it before.” He smiled at Jerry saying, “Remember back in the air circus, Jerry? This was your specialty.”

  Jerry managed a smile and nodded. “It’ll be a piece of cake, Lylah, don’t worry.”

  Lylah and Jesse drove back to the studio and spent the rest of the morning working on details. Finally he said, “Let’s take a break.”

  They went out for lunch but could not leave the business behind. Jesse had been drinking iced tea. He set down the glass suddenly and said, “Have you thought what would happen, to the picture I mean, if anything happened to Cara? If she had a crash and couldn’t act in the film?”

  Nodding grimly, Lylah answered, “Yes, that’s why I’ve had Dick shoot around, getting all the scenes filmed that she’s in except for those in the plane.”

  “I hope nothing will happen, of course. But it’s always possible.”

  “Jerry’s making a fool of himself over her,” Lylah said. There was a bitterness in her voice and she said angrily, “And Cara’s egging him on. She runs around with Brent half the time and poor Jerry can’t stand the pace of that. Pretty hard competing with a movie star with a pocket full of money.”

  “You know we can’t talk to him about that. When a man’s blind about a woman, that’s about it.” He reached over and took her hand and squeezed it. “I’d like to think what would have happened if somebody had tried to tell me to leave you alone.”

  His words pleased her. “You do have your moments,” she whispered. Then she grew more serious. “I’m worried about Bonnie. You know she was out late last night with Brent. She just doesn’t know how explosive a situation that can be.” The waiter came and filled the glasses with tea. She waited until he left, then took a sip. “Nobody makes tea like Ma used to back on the farm,” she said quietly. “I remember it after all these years. I don’t know what she did to it. It was better than anything else.”

  “Maybe your memory of it is better than anything else,” Jesse said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the past is always better than the present. Our memories of it get softened. You had a tough time on the farm but that memory gets blunted after a few years. The tea probably wasn’t as good as that tea in your glass. But it was a good memory and over the years it sort of incubated.”

  “I suppose that’s right. Is it like that with you?”

  “There was a hill close to where I lived at home. I remember it was a frightening thing to go down it in a wagon or on a sled. I didn’t go back for years and years, and I kept thinking about how dangerous and what fun it was to go down that hill.” Jesse’s eyes were half shut as he went back over the past, his lips curling in a pleased smile. “Then I went back,” he said, turning to look at her, “and I could spit over the thing. It had grown in my mind until I thought it was Mount Everest when actually it wasn’t anything like a big hill.”

  “I hate it when you analyze things like that.” Lylah laughed at him then. He could always make her smile. That was one of the reasons she loved him. “We’ll have to do something about Bonnie; she’s old enough so I can’t tell her what to do, and neither can you.”

  “Why, she’s in love with Jerry, always has been, even if she won’t admit it to herself.”

  “I think you’re right. He’s the reason she’s turned down some good men. I wish she hadn’t, though, because I don’t know if Jerry’ll ever settle down.”

  “If he knew the Lord, it’d be different, but he doesn’t.”

  The two sat there and talked over their problems and finally went back to the studio and picked up the tedious work necessary to making a movie.

  “Let’s go over it one more time,” Gavin said. They were standing slightly away from the planes. The engines had been revved up by the mechanics and the skies overhead were clear. Gavin saw a bored look come into Cara’s eyes and he reached out and pulled her by the front of her shirt. “Wake up, Cara, you may have done this before, but every time’s different.”

  Cara stared at him, shocked with the sharpness of his voice. “Aw, Gavin, there’s nothing to it, is there, Jerry?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Jerry said. “It’s always tricky.”

  Gavin went over it again, slowly, methodically, as was his fashion. He was a careful man in all things and especially with anything having to do with airplanes. “Listen,” he said, “I’ve tried to tell you this before. Airplanes are treacherous. Back home on the farm we had a mule that would be good for six months just to have a chance to kick you once. That’s the way it is with that plane there,” he nodded. “There’s lots of wind up there today. All it has to do is toss that plane one foot to the side and all of a sudden you’re in trouble, Cara. Let’s go over it again now.”

  “All right! All right!” Cara was bored but went over the stunt carefully. “When we get the sign, I get out of the front cockpit. Jerry keeps the plane steady. I crawl up on top of the wing, fix my feet in the stirrups, and hold my arms up straight. Then he flies level and after three minutes of that, I take my feet out of the stirrups and move out to the end of the wing. And I hold tight to the straps,” she added, before he could interrupt.

  The top wing of the plane had been strengthened so that a person could move back and forth. This particular scene reproduced part of a flying circus element in the picture. Cara would wear goggles and a cap as a double for Eileen Turner.

  “When I get to the end of the wing, he does a turn, and I brace myself, holding my arms out straight. Now, that’s all there is to it!”

  Gavin stared at her doubtfully. “All right,” he said, “let’s do it.”

  Jerry moved at once to the plane and waited for Cara, who came to step into the front cockpit. He handed her up and she laughed at his sober expression. Running her hand down his face, she said huskily, “How about tonight?”

  “You sure you’re not busy with Valentino the Second?”

  Cara laughed and put herself against him. She kissed him soundly, saying, with a promise in her voice, “I like to keep you jealous.” She slapped his cheek playfully and climbed agilely into the front seat.

  Jerry climbed into the rear seat and looked over to see that Gavin and the camera operator were ready. When Gavin gave the signal, Jerry gunned the engine and took off. Gavin followed, and five minutes later they were above the cloud cover. As Gavin had said, the rain was gone, but it was windy, and it took all Jerry’s skill to keep the plane level. Both he and Cara watched as Gavin pulled the camera plane up ahead slightly and thirty feet over their position. Then he gave the hand signal that meant, Do it!

  Cara caught the signal, loosed her safety belt, and moved to a standing position on the seat. She was a strong woman and pulled herself out of the cockpit and onto the wing. She leaned forward, missing the full blast of the wind that snatched at her and pasted her thin red blouse against her body. When she had moved to the exact center of the wing, she slipped her feet into the rigging that Gavin had carefully designed. This rigging would be invisible to the audience. It would look as though she were simply standing on top of the wing. Carefully, she judged the wind and came to a full stand, leaning forward, arms outstretched and head lifted.

  Jerry thought, She’s good at that, better than anybody who’s ever done it. He struggled with the controls, keeping the plane as level as he could. He had sensitive hands an
d managed successfully to counter the blast of wind that tried to shove the biplane to one side. This is what I’m good at, he thought grimly, satisfied that without him she could not do this stunt. After ninety seconds, what he judged to be the right amount of time, he glanced over at Gavin quickly and saw his uncle give the sign for Cara to move along the wing.

  Cara leaned forward and Jerry saw her disengage her feet from the rigging. Along the wing there ran a cleat that she could brace her feet against as she moved outward. Jerry kept the plane at the lowest possible speed and struggled to keep the wing level as she made her way along. She wore no parachute and this was the essence of the trick. Some trick flyers used a tiny steel cable as a safety belt, but Cara had never used that. As Jerry looked down on the earth far below, a chill went through him as he thought of the impact of a body after falling from this height. Sweat broke out on his forehead, but he could not take his hands from the stick, for every move of the airplane was dangerous.

  Cara had gotten within four feet of the tip of the wing when it happened. An unexpected countergust caught the airplane and shoved it sideways. Jerry countered instantly, but still the airplane moved sharply and unexpectedly in a different direction. Cara was caught with one foot off the wing, balancing herself, and the shift of the craft threw her off balance. Jerry knew as the plane shifted that it was trouble, and as he wrenched his head to the right and saw her go down, his heart seemed to stop.

  She’s gone! his mind screamed, and a sickening feeling caught him in the throat. He wanted to scream, but then he saw that she had managed to catch the strap that had been fastened as a safety device along the cleat. Her body was dragged out over the trailing edge of the wing. She held to the strap with both hands, and her body suddenly twisted so that Jerry could see the agonized expression on her face.