He was already late for school, and he handed his paper to Stephen McLaughlin on the way inside before rushing to chapel. He arrived there just as the opening hymn drew to a close. A long silence followed. Some of the faculty in the back looked at Eddie. He’d come in a bit late, out of breath, but that shouldn’t have been the cause of such attention. One of the history teachers, John Munroe, bumped Eddie with his elbow.
“You’re up.”
Eddie had completely forgotten about his chapel speech. Only veteran teachers were assigned to speak this early in the year, but somehow he had become one of the veterans. At the lectern, he cleared his throat and waited for the boys to quiet down. He never had their attention in this setting, but he didn’t blame them for that, since he hadn’t been inclined to give his attention when he was in those seats himself. Now he found that his silence had more effect than his words usually did. The boys looked at him expectantly, almost hopefully. What could he tell them that would mean something to them? What had he wanted to hear at that age?
“I graduated from St. Albert’s more than fifteen years ago,” he said. He cleared his throat while considering where to go from there. “Just last June, after you guys all left for the summer, I had my fifteenth reunion. Sixteen years ago, I sat where you seniors are sitting now. Thirteen years before that, I went to kindergarten here. Some of the people I saw at this thing I’ve known for almost thirty years.”
He could see how smoothly things might go from here. Say a few words about lasting relationships, about treasuring your time, be done and sit down. But he was on the edge of something that some of these boys might actually remember. He started over.
“Those of you who have been in my classes know that I was an actor before I came back to St. Albert’s. That is, I was trying to be one. And in fact I continued to try after I started teaching. Or I thought I would continue to try. The point is, I assumed that I was just passing back through here. I suspect now that this isn’t the case. Most of you probably are just passing through. As most of my classmates, the people I saw last June, were just passing through. You won’t think all that much about this place after you leave, though ten or twelve years is a long time to spend somewhere. But one of you might come back, like I did. And maybe you’ll think you’re just passing back through. But probably you will not be.”
They were listening now, if only because they were curious where he could possibly be going. Even some of the seniors in the back had quieted down. He was getting close. He was right there, looking at it.
“What is my point here? A question I’ve asked myself occasionally is why I thought I was just passing through. That is, why I thought I might still be an actor when I had not had any success at it. Something you have no doubt been told at some point, perhaps even in this very chapel, is that you can do anything you really set yourself to doing. I know that I was told this many times when I was your age. Although it should be obvious enough to all of you that this isn’t really true. I mean, supposing there are fifteen of you in this room who want to be president of the United States. And you all really set yourself to this task. Well, how many presidents are there going to be in your adult lifetime? Ten? Most presidents wind up getting two terms, but let’s just make it simple and say they’re all single-termers. So let’s say twelve presidents. That’s forty-eight years. You can’t be president until you’re thirty-five. That’s in the constitution. It doesn’t matter how hard you try, or put your mind to it. It’s the law. And then no one gets elected in their eighties. So then let’s say that for an unprecedented string of fifty years this country only elects presidents who are in this room right now. That’s still, what, thirteen at the most. I don’t know if I’m doing this math right, but you get the idea. So two of you, who really, really set your mind to it, don’t get what you want.
“But of course that’s even taking it to logical extremes. The reality is that none of you are going to be president. Not one. I mean, let’s be serious. Because it’s not really up to you or how hard you work. It’s up to voters. It’s not in your control. Acting is like that. You could be Robert De Niro, but if the casting director and the producers don’t want you, it doesn’t matter. Plus, needless to say, I wasn’t De Niro. In fact, I understand now that I was pretty terrible.”
Some boys laughed uncomfortably, until the look on Eddie’s face silenced them. They were a little frightened, and that made him happy.
“It wasn’t because I didn’t want it,” he continued. “I wanted it as badly as anyone wants it. A lot of the people I went to school with, they did get what they wanted. So it’s not all bad news. But mostly what they wanted was to be rich. Which it turns out isn’t that hard, especially if you were born rich to begin with, which most of them were, and which I guess most of you kids were, but which, as it happens, I was not, so maybe even if that had been my big goal I still wouldn’t have been able to make it happen.
“So anyway, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try really hard. I don’t regret having worked so hard at acting. At least, I don’t think I do. Sometimes I do, but not most of the time. I guess I just wish I’d quit a little sooner than I did, when there were still some other options available to me. Not that I’m sorry I wound up back at St. Albert’s, exactly. So I think you should put your mind to whatever you want, but also be realistic about the fact that, depending on what it is, you probably aren’t going to get it, in all honesty.”
Everything went silent as he walked away from the lectern. The closing hymn was supposed to start, but even the music teacher at the organ had stopped to watch Eddie walk down the aisle. Finally he reached the back of the chapel, the music started, and everyone stood.
Eddie wasn’t sure how his performance had gone over, but he had other things to worry about. When he left the chapel, he headed straight for the faculty lounge. Most of the other teachers had class first period, so Eddie found the place empty. He sat at a computer that faced away from the door, so that he could close his browser if anyone came in, and he searched for “Martha Martin Sex Tape.” The first site that came up was CelebretainmentSpot.com.
“Dr. Drake Sex Tape is for real,” Eddie read at the top of the page.
On the same day that pregnant Dr. Drake star Martha Martin announced her engagement to her Life After Laura costar Turner Bledsoe, rumors swirled of the existence of a sex tape featuring Martin, apparently taken by an ex-boyfriend while both were struggling actors in New York. Now, a CelebretainmentSpot source has confirmed the existence of the tape. They say it is clearly Martha Martin in the tape, and that it is HOT! “I’d rank it three jalapeños,” our source said. “It’s definitely her, and it’s definitely steamy.” He said that Martin’s partner, who has yet to be identified, can’t be seen in the tape. “That’s okay,” he added. “No one will be watching it for him.” That’s for sure! Stick with CelebretainmentSpot for more on this developing story.
The door to the lounge opened, and John Munroe appeared, bringing in a waft of the cigarette he’d likely just smoked on the roof. Munroe had been teaching there since Eddie was a student, and his graded papers had always given off the warm scent of the Tareyton 100s he smoked from a soft pack.
“That was quite a performance,” he said.
Eddie liked Munroe, had always liked him, and he felt uneasy under his skeptical stare.
“I guess I was a little unprepared.”
Munroe laughed.
“Kids could stand to hear a bit of reality. Anyway, they’ll all forget it soon enough.”
This seemed to be his philosophy of teaching—the boys would forget it all anyway. As Munroe crossed the room, Eddie clicked the browser closed and stood up from the computer.
“I’ve got a few things to take care of in the theater before second period,” he said as he left the lounge.
The mentions of Martha and the general level of misbehavior seemed much increased in class that day. It might have been related to the talk he’d given that morning, or it might have been
a natural process of boundary testing, but Eddie worried that some of the boys had already heard about the tape. They would be among the first to see the thing once it was released. High school boys were probably the target audience. It was another thing Eddie hadn’t considered. He gave the boys scripts and ran them through line readings onstage while he sat in the back of the theater, working out what he would say to Susan that night.
He had his own script pretty well prepared by the time he got home. First he would mention the rumors about Martha in the paper and wait to see Susan’s response. Eventually he would admit that the rumors had reminded him of some videos he’d made with Martha. They couldn’t be the ones in question, of course, since those had been destroyed years ago. Although, come to think of it, he’d only destroyed the ones he had. He couldn’t be sure that Martha didn’t have some herself. Susan wouldn’t like any of this, but he couldn’t see how she could blame him for it.
“How was the appointment?” he asked first.
“It was good,” Susan said. “But I’m nervous.”
“I’m sure we’re going to get great news.”
He couldn’t see how to make the transition from there. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, until Eddie said, “You know, I read something funny about Martha in the paper today.”
“Oh, let’s not talk about her right now,” Susan said. “We’ve got our own things to worry about.”
They fell back into silence, which persisted until the phone rang. Susan jumped from the couch to pick it up.
“Hello,” she said. Eddie watched her face. “Yes,” she said. She repeated this word three or four times mindlessly, and Eddie couldn’t tell what it meant. Then she started to cry, and still Eddie couldn’t tell. Finally, she said, “Thank you, doctor. Thank you for everything.” She hung up the phone, ran back to the couch, and wrapped her arms around Eddie. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.”
“I guess we’re having a baby.”
He could barely hear Susan’s response through her tears.
“Based on my blood numbers, he thinks all three embryos attached.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we’re having triplets.” She was still crying, and it didn’t seem entirely from happiness. “It’s so overwhelming,” she said. “How are we going to afford triplets?”
She looked helplessly around their one-bedroom apartment. Eddie wanted to let her know about the rest of money— not that it would be enough on its own to solve the problem, but at least it would take some pressure off. In a few weeks, maybe a few months, he’d say that another check had come from Korea. But he couldn’t do that too soon if he wanted the story to have even a modicum of credibility.
“We’ll make it work.”
This seemed to be what she was waiting to hear.
“It’s a blessing, really,” she said. “It’s going to be great.”
EIGHT
STILL SHOTS FROM THE video, cropped and strategically blurred, filled the front pages of the News and the Post on Sunday morning. “The Doctor Is In!” read the Post’s headline. The News had gone with the more esoteric “Martha Tart-in’.”
Eddie didn’t look through the papers before going back to the apartment with the breakfast sandwiches he’d gone out to buy. He needed to get to Susan before she heard from someone else. He’d tried several times in the preceding days to mention the tape to her, but everything had been so busy, and she’d been so happy.
“There’s a big story about Martha in the papers,” he said after they sat down to eat.
“These days I’d be shocked if the paper didn’t have something about her,” Susan said. “I have to admit that I’d have a hard time hearing about her pregnancy if things hadn’t worked out for us. But now I just wish her the best.”
“It actually isn’t about the pregnancy.”
“What’s it about, then?”
“People are saying there’s a sex tape floating around with her in it.”
Susan cringed.
“I hope you don’t have anything to do with that.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I’m kidding. Of course you don’t have anything to do with it. Is it Turner or Rex?”
“No one seems to know.”
“People are so gross. Who even makes these tapes to begin with? And why would they pick now of all times to release it?”
“When I read about it,” Eddie said, “I remembered something.”
Susan put her sandwich down.
“What did you remember?”
“When Martha and I were together, we made a lot of tapes. I don’t mean those kinds of tapes. Just, you know, rehearsing. Preparing for auditions. Line reading. But we may have taped some other stuff once or twice.”
“You may have?”
“It wasn’t something we were into or anything. I never even looked at them. It just sort of happened while the camera was on. I never mentioned it to you because I didn’t see the point. I didn’t think they even still existed. But I guess she might have kept it, and someone could have stolen it off her computer or something.”
“Is it you in that tape? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie said. “I haven’t seen it. Martha was the one who set up the video camera. She was the one who was constantly taping everything. She probably did it with other guys. And why would this ten-year-old video just be surfacing now? But I saw this in the paper, and I remembered. So I thought I should tell you.”
“Isn’t there some way you could find out? By going online or something?”
“I guess so.”
“Don’t you want to know?”
Eddie opened his laptop and did what he would have done if he were really looking for the video. When he searched “Martha Martin sex tape,” thousands of hits came back.
“It’s all over the place,” he said. Susan got up and left the room.
The video itself was harder to find than he would have imagined. Most sites that claimed to have real footage just linked to other pages. Those that advertised free access actually showed a staged scene featuring an actress who resembled but clearly wasn’t Martha. It might have been made for the purpose or just pulled from some stock of celebrity look-alike videos. Pop-up ads crowded Eddie’s screen. He found sites that weren’t selling the video outright but included it with annual subscriptions. Bits and pieces could be had for ten or fifteen bucks. Finally, he bought the whole fifteen minutes for $49.99. Thousands of dollars must have already been spent that day. He wondered how much Morgan would make. Moments after entering his credit card number, Eddie was watching himself.
Someone had added opening credits, subtitles, and a soundtrack of bad electronic music, edited so that it seemed that they’d been listening to it at the time. Otherwise it was exactly as he’d cut it. He tried to imagine Martha watching the video. Would she feel any emotions besides anger or embarrassment? He watched only a few minutes before closing the computer and calling Susan back into the room.
“It’s me,” he told her, nearly in tears from embarrassment. His shame was real, which at least made it convincing. “You can’t see me in the video, though. I don’t think anyone could trace it to me.”
“We’ve got to do something. People can’t just steal things and put them on the Internet, can they?”
“Probably not. But I don’t think it was stolen from me. I mean, who hacks into a high school teacher’s computer, looking for something like that?”
“I thought they weren’t on your computer.”
“Exactly,” Eddie said quickly. “So they couldn’t have taken them from me.”
“It doesn’t matter whether they took it from you. If it’s you in the video you have some right to stop it. Don’t you? Call Alex and tell him to do something about it.”
Alex was Eddie’s agent at Talent Management. They hadn’t spoken in years. Eddie almost told Susan this, but he remembered that he wa
s supposed to have received a royalty check from the agency only a few weeks before.
“I don’t know how much he can do about it,” he told her instead. “Once something is out, you can’t really make it go away.”
“So we’re completely helpless?”
“We’ll wait for it to blow over. Something more interesting will come along, and everyone will forget about it. In the meantime, we’ll just hope that no one connects it to me.”
This seemed like a real possibility to Eddie. There was no mention of his name in the papers, and no one online seemed all that interested in knowing the identity of the other figure in the tape.
“She probably leaked it herself,” he said. “These things are actually good for people’s careers.”
“Do you really think she would do that?”
“Who can say? I don’t think she’s the same person she was when I knew her.”
WHEN THE WEEKLIES HIT the newsstand on Tuesday morning, Martha was on the cover of every one. Eddie wasn’t mentioned anywhere. In his first class of the day, the boys didn’t seem any more distracted or disrespectful than usual. Near the beginning of his second class one of them raised his hand. This in itself was a bad sign, since the boys just spoke out when they had something to say.
“What is it?” Eddie asked.
“Do you have any advice about acting in sex scenes?”
The entire class burst into laughter before he’d even finished the question.
“That’s not appropriate,” Eddie said. He could have sent him to the headmaster’s office, the last resort for dealing with bad behavior, but he wanted the matter dropped. He didn’t need to bring it to Luce’s attention. He took out a few copies of Twelfth Night and set them to reading aloud for the rest of the hour, which was what he did when he wasn’t interested in teaching.
“If there are no more questions,” he said at the end of the second act, “I can let you go now.”
He watched the boys deciding between getting out of class early and staying to provoke him. They opted to file out of the theater.
Arts & Entertainments: A Novel Page 8