Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret)

by Stephen Andrew Salamon

  The audience clapped with Damen Schultz finally standing in the place where he was destined to be, with proudness to his soul; he did it, and he knew it. He walked down the stairs and went back to his seat. He kissed Maria’s tear-drenched face, and rubbed Jessica’s head. This was the first time that Damen cried of pure happiness, not sorrow, but something was missing to his prosperity, and that something was the complete closure that would be made by him very soon, that would make his tears pure in the eyes of prosperity.

  Later on, he exited the building and walked down the red carpet with Maria and Jessica on his left, and Chuck on his right, finally comprehending that he had a gift, a gift of acting. He passed the people who stepped on his face, such as Chester Freeman, who turned Damen down as being one of his clients. Damen signed autograph books while he passed by movie stars that called him a want-a-be-actor, or a starving artist. While reaching his limousine of elite quality, he saw Vivian pop out from the crowd. Even though he wanted to get in the limo, he still felt inside that he should approach her. So, he walked up to her with a smile on his face, avoiding media and cameramen by not answering their questions.

  Vivian grinned at him, saying with sorrow to her voice, “So, congratulations on your book, and your screen play... and your Oscar. You really did some great acting in it.”

  “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in New York?” Damen asked to Vivian, while turning around and seeing Maria and Jessica entering the limo with Chuck by their sides.

  Damen turned his sight back toward Vivian and heard her answer in disappointment, “Well, the director from the soap opera fired me. Even my agent fired me.”

  Through this conversation, and through Vivian’s clothes of elegance, Damen had zealous, enthusiasts, fans all around him, throwing autograph books in his face, pleading for him to sign them. “Why did you get fired?” he asked, signing an autograph book for a teenage girl.

  “Because of the book you wrote. As soon as they read that I cheated on you with Jose and a director, they began thinking about firing me. Even with you changing the names, they still figured it out. But as soon as they made a movie out of it, they felt that I was a bad girl, and they didn’t want me to ruin their reputation,” Vivian explained in anger. She began giving Damen an attitude when she added, “So they gave my role to Helen, she’s now working on the soap opera. So thanks a lot for ruining my career.”

  “Listen, Vivian, you ruined it, not me. I was just telling the truth ... and you know it too.” Damen entered the limo and closed the door, not wanting anyone to ruin his proud night. Yet, Vivian began pounding on the limo window, so Damen rolled it down. “What now?”

  “Damen, okay, I’m sorry for getting mad at you a second ago, alright? I just had a bad year with this damn Sugar Valley movie. Okay? Would you forgive me?” Vivian’s voice showed spurious and phony sincerity, like she wanted something from him, but he didn’t bother investigating it at all.

  Damen looked at Maria, and then looked back at Vivian, speaking in a nice manner, “Alright, I forgive you.”

  The flashes from cameras started to throb, hurt, and pang Damen’s eyes. He was ready to close the window on Vivian, but then heard her say, “Good, good, um, I also wanted to ask you one more thing.”

  Damen rubbed his stinging eyes in quickness, trying this arduous exercise to get some relief to them before the next flash came; but that was impossible. “Sure, sure, but make it fast.”

  “I was just wondering if you could help me out here? I know that you have about five movies to do in the future.”

  Damen interrupted her, speaking with reverence, “I have six movies to do, one in which my beautiful wife will be appearing in as my co-star.”

  Vivian was beginning to be pushed against the limo by the media, speaking in a voice of panic, due to the pushes, “Well ... I was just wondering if you can get me a small role of some sort in one of them, could you?”

  Damen reached into his wallet and gave her a card, saying with attitude, “Since you apologized for cheating on me in the past, and for loving this industry more than me, I’ll help you out.” She then reached into his hand and grabbed the card. “This is where I began, and this where you’ll begin again.”

  She read the card while the limo started to move slowly. She then looked up at Damen flabbergasted, dismayed, walking with the limo’s moving body, and saying with fury, “Damen, this is for extra work. Are you kidding me?”

  “No, it’s no joke. You see, I only help the ones who deserve the help. Tell Helen I said congratulations.”

  The limo began moving faster as Vivian ran with it, trying to keep up with Damen, wanting him to change his mind and help her for real. “Damen, I can’t do it again, I can’t be an extra. That’s so degrading,” Vivian said in a desperate voice.

  Damen told the chauffeur to stop the limo immediately. He took out another card, reached over and out the limo’s window, handed it to her, and spoke, “Alright, here’s my card. Contact my agent, Chuck, and he’ll get you a role of some sort.”

  “Thank you,” Vivian yelled out. The limo began driving again, but stopped immediately when Vivian ran in front of it and yelled, “Stop!” Vivian ran back to Damen’s window once again, saying, “By the way, I think this belongs to you.” She stuck her hand into the limo window and dropped an object into Damen’s hand.

  “My Rosary, where did you find it?” Damen looked at the Rosary, which he lost some time ago, smiling toward it, remembering what life was like when he had this holy object of love.

  “I must have packed it with some of my stuff when I left for New York.”

  “Thank you, Vivian.”

  The limousine drove off into the Hollywood street, holding one of the world’s most finest writers and actors, carrying the future of Hollywood in its glamorous stomach. Chuck busted open a bottle of champagne, took a sip, and questioned, “Damen, what sort of role did you want me to get for her?”

  “I don’t know, Chuck, maybe you can get her a zit commercial.”

  Chuck began laughing while Damen put the Rosary into his pocket. Little Jessica started to play with her stuffed animals, and Maria started to sip the bottle as well, feeling the sweet taste of this champagne, washing around in her mouth as the limo swayed back and forth to the turns it was making. Maria turned to Chuck and asked, “Are you coming to the party at our house tonight?”

  “Yeah, of course I am, but I was debating whether I should go home first and shower up again; I heard that a lot of pretty Leading Ladies are gonna be there,” Chuck stated with Damen laughing away.

  “Listen, you old love buster, just come to my house right now. You see, we’re almost there. My house is right around the corner” chuckled Damen; the limo passed a sign that read Beverly Hills.

  “Alright, you’re the boss.”

  The limousine drove up into a driveway that led to Damen’s gargantuan mansion, shaped in every man’s dream, contoured in size to every man’s wants. It was enormous, with grass that scattered all around the house with its natural beauty, and trees that were placed separate from each other, but all over his land; it was a masterpiece.

  Maria kissed Jessica and hugged Damen at the same time, speaking, “Damen ... we’re home.” Suddenly, without warning, Damen had this confused look upon his face, a look of estrangement, a look of captivated longing.

  They walked up the stairs of his mansion, but Damen turned around to face his front yard, before he stepped his feet upon the gorgeous stairs. He looked about, and around his new providence, and realized what he had to do first, before he was ready to call this place, this palace “home.” “Listen, I have to go some place first, I’ll be back later on, or else, tomorrow,” muttered Damen. They looked at him, in confusion at first, but suddenly a small grin came on their faces; they knew what he meant. Damen stepped into the limo again, but Maria stopped the door from closing.

  “Damen, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she asked. “Yeah, I’m posit
ive.”

  She kept the door opened with her right hand, and placed her left one on his face, questioning, “Do you have it with you, or is it in the house?” Damen smiled to her, gave out a small kiss to her face, and sat in the limousine motionless still. She knew what that kiss meant. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you’re back before the other parties end.”

  “I promise.” The limousine drove off, leaving his land behind, and entering onto the streets of the Hills. Damen jumped over to the seat that was right next to the chauffeur, and inquired, “Hey, did you read my book?”

  “Yeah, sir, I read it.”

  “So that means I don’t have to tell you where to take me?” The chauffeur’s smile reflected off the rearview mirror, and Damen knew what it meant, he felt what he was going to vocalize next; and he was right.

  “No, sir, I memorized the ending.”

  XII

  The Vanity Now Enters into the

  Place Where His Aspiration Began,

  and the Angel Opens Its Eyes Fully,

  Grabbing Hold Of Him, And Giving

  Him the Greatest Endowment of All.

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  The coldness of Mississippi hit Damen’s tanned face, but he still proceeded to walk down the Valley’s body, and complete the ending of his book. He stopped for a moment, when he saw the gravestones of his friends, brothers, his reason for moving on this journey, making his dream real, and that caused him to bow his head slightly. He stared, like staring at a reflection, and the Valley stared at him also, remembering his face, his innocence, his blood, and most of all, his dream. Damen saw the snow of the Valley, he stared at its white reflection, and how it tingled, and glistened; the moon was the cause of that. The Valley’s white, winter clothing allowed Damen’s mind to, somehow, become saddened; he wanted to see its true skin, its true self. So he bent down, placing one knee on the cold, ridged snow, and began to dig at this white coat, in slow motion. As he excavated deeper, he started his motion faster, wanting to see the reality of the Valley once again, and wanting that feeling, that innocent pressure that he felt, before he left the Valley, back in his mind again. Blood started to form on his hands, due to the frost bite, and the hard ice that was mixed in with the snow; but he didn’t care, he just wanted to see the true Sugar Valley. Frantic ran through his mind, knowing that he might not be able to see the green grass, or the black, pure dirt that the Valley was made up of, due to the thickness of the snow; but Damen kept digging, like it was his mission, his destiny to see this memory, reflection, this God of a Valley, once more.

  Tears began to cultivate, breed in his eyes, and as they fell to the snow, breaking away from his mind, so did the snow itself, and Damen finally saw the Valley’s skin; pure emerald grass was now in his view. He stared at this hole, looking at wet grass, and soaked dirt, staring at it heavily, like he was in a trance; a smile came to his mind, as well as his image. Damen got up slowly, feeling relief that he saw the Valley’s grass, body, its skin of beauty, and kept on staring at it, like it was a mirror, or a gateway to his memories that were lost before, shattered by struggle, trauma, and immorality that he saw in his mind’s eye. His soul was filled, at least halfway, with pure innocence once again, and just by staring at this small sector, this little patch of grass, that would be normally disgusting to anyone else’s sight, but beautiful to his. Turning away from the patch of grass, he put down his satchel, and stared at the gravestones for a brief moment, without words, without thought, and then began his prosperous ending; an ending that he made real. Damen opened his mouth, like he was ready to speak, then suddenly a fish jumped up from the pond’s body. He was amazed, the pond was frozen, but this creature, this fish was able to break through it, or else find a small hole to reach the air from. “I remember you,” silently said Damen. He remembered that same fish, or else a fish like that one, jumping up from the pond when he met Jose and Maria for the first time.

  “What are you doing, talking to yourself or something?” Jose asked. Damen saw himself and Jose, at the age of eight, repeating history, repeating the past, a memory. His flashback was so real to him now, overpowering, he actually saw him and Jose, young as could be, meeting each other, and creating a friendship that would be the best friendship ever. Damen began laughing a little, seeing this memory taking place, caused that prosperous feeling, that he felt when he met Jose, to be revived and shown once again.

  “I’m pretending I’m a cowboy, like from the movies. Haven’t you ever pretended you were someone else before?” Damen saw himself say that, he saw this memory, within the Valley, and caused him to cry, to shut his eyes. He wasn’t laughing anymore, the flashback was too real to him now, and allowed his wounds to break open and bleed tears of misery. He defined these tears now, finally, as being sad tears, and that’s not what he wanted to do now; he wanted complete closure. But then, the memory, the flashback ceased, died and Damen opened his eyes to the sight of Jose’s grave.

  “We could make a time capsule or something,” Damen’s memory said. He stared at the Valley side again, and saw Darell, at the age of twenty-one, holding the old box that he wanted, so badly, to make a time capsule out of, a moment in time, where they could come back and see what they left behind.

  Damen shut his eyes again, and opened them once more, to only have Darell’s grave in his sight. He realized, through his adventure, that the Valley, Sugar Valley, was one big, gigantic time capsule. It held the memories, the fears, the happiness, and the dreams within it still, never allowing anything to take or steal them away. He knew that it was the Valley’s magic, its wonder that allowed these memories to take place once more, and be so real to him. Damen looked at the graves of his friends, and said, “Well, guys, this is it.” He stopped for a moment, catching his breath through the nervousness and sadness. “Jose, you probably already know, that they didn’t find your killer yet. How ’bout this, I only talk about nice things now, no more sad things. Um, I won the Oscar, could you believe that?” Damen gave out a small smile, it was like Jose and Darell were really there, in life, and listening to every word he said. “I wrote a book, about the Valley, and believe it or not, they love it. The whole world actually loves Sugar Valley, I think just as much as we do.” He then paused. A tear fell once, and looked at the Oscar on top of Jose’s home, his tombstone. “You guys probably already read it, my book, and you probably already know that I made up the ending. But, in a sense, I didn’t, because I’m here now, ready to complete that ending.” He couldn’t take it, talking, through such melancholy, and conversing with stones of death, stones that would cause sadness to live and healing to die. He turned away from the stones, for a moment, and then looked back; his healing began. His goodbye began; he was about to make it into reality. Damen then lit up a cigarette, staring at the light, he took a drag of it fast and quick, blowing out smoke and saying, “It’s been awhile, since you know what, and believe it or not, I still can’t get over it. I mean, I went to a shrink, out of a dozen, and, and she said, and I quote, ‘Damen, time heals all wounds.’ And you know what I said, I said, ‘well, guess what, bitch, you’re wrong’.”

  He started laughing at his remark, taking in drags of his cigarette, the laughter slowly came to a halt. “You see, what I realized, is that time is your worst enemy, it doesn’t heal wounds, it only makes them worse, because it causes you to not think of those you lost, and that’s bad. It’s bad. You can’t ever forget about those you lost, it’s good not to, but what’s bad is lingering on them and the past, which many people get confused with. Remembering the people, really, in a sense, helps the healing process, because, because remembering that bond you had with them, makes you realize how lucky, and blessed you were to have those moments, to have those years, like I spent with you guys, and for that, it brings a smile to your face.”

  Tears on top of tears were drowning his voice, placing silence in them for a bit, but he kept on going. “So, I stopped going to that shrink, as a matter of fact, last week
was my last session. It was funny, before I swore at her, and yelled my ass off, she said, ‘Damen, you’re an Oscar nominee, you wrote a novel that became the top seller, the most copies ever sold, you have a beautiful wife, who’s expecting, they made your novel into a movie, and you’re practically the King of Hollywood, you shouldn’t have any reasons to be depressed.’ And you know what? She’s right, she’s absolutely right. But she doesn’t understand, comprehend in her little, simple mind, is that you’re my, or were my, blood-brothers, and that bond, we promised, would never be broken; not even through death. And I’m trying to keep that promise, but therefore, I would have to linger on the past, and like I said before, if I do that, my wounds will be opened till the day I die.” He noticed things were getting out of hand, the way he stuck on this conversation of truth, Damen knew what he had to do.

  So, he explained, “Um. Um, I wrote in my story, about everything, the murders, the drugs, the disillusionment, and just, you know, everything. But I lied at the end of it, I said that I come back to Sugar, and cry of happiness, and do something at the end, where my happiness is real. I said that I smiled, and danced around in the Valley, but when it happens, you’ll know if my smiles are real or not. You guys know me, if I’m not feeling it, I won’t do it.” He turned away from the stones, for a moment and then looked back; his healing began. His goodbye began; he was about to make it into reality. “I promised myself, that I wouldn’t come back here, at least for a while, but I had to do this. I realize, that life doesn’t, doesn’t turn out, exactly, the way you want it. But, in the end, the things that you did want, come true, it’s just the things in between don’t. I guess God does that for a reason; to make us stronger, immune.” The healing was almost over, the hardest part that he ever felt, was about to end. The tears came flowing out in his mind, but didn’t reach his eyes yet. He could feel the pressure of the tears, inside of his mind, pressing against his eyes, wanting to come out.