The Golden Angel

by Gilbert, Morris

  Around the dance floor people were sitting on chairs or divans. Others were walking about, and all of them seemed to have a drink in their hand. Waiters dressed in white coats and navy blue trousers moved about carrying trays full of cocktails. Alcohol was illegal, of course, but Erin surmised that no one was going to be arrested at the home of Eileen Day.

  As they crossed the room Erin glanced to her left and saw a woman sitting on the floor. Her hair was down in her face, and she was muttering something. A man was trying to get her to her feet, and when she refused he simply slumped down, put his head in her lap, and went to sleep.

  “There’s Eileen over there,” Haskins said. He took them to the actress and said, “Eileen, I’d like for you to meet the people who will be working on the picture.” He gave their names, and Eileen nodded. “Glad to see you,” she said. She was a shapely platinum blonde with sultry eyes and pouting lips. For all of her beauty, there was a sharpness about her eyes, a strange predatory look. She at once fastened her attention on Quaid. “So you’re the flier from the war. I love heroes.” She suddenly laughed and took his arm. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

  Quaid opened his mouth to protest. “I’m sorry, but I don’t do that kind of dance.”

  “You don’t? Well, we’ll have another kind, then.” Eileen suddenly yelled, “Let’s have a waltz, Charlie!”

  Instantly the bandleader nodded and spoke to the musicians. They went smoothly, without effort, into the “Blue Danube Waltz.” Most of the dancers were caught off guard, but Eileen paid them no heed. “Is that old-fashioned enough for you, Quaid?”

  Derek Wells suddenly appeared as the couple moved off across the dance floor. “Here you are, Erin. Hello, Rev.” He took their greeting and said, “I see Eileen’s already latched on to Quaid. Why does that not surprise me?” He laughed and shook his head. “Would you like to dance, Erin?”

  “All right,” Erin said.

  “Make yourself at home, Rev.” Wells suddenly thought of Rev’s peculiarity. “You can start asking people if they’re converted. If you find one, let me know. I haven’t run into anybody yet in that condition in this group.”

  Laughing heartily at his own joke, he turned and led Erin out onto the dance floor, and soon the two were moving about gracefully to the waltz. There were very few couples waltzing, and Erin said, “You come to parties like this a lot?”

  “It’s more or less part of the business, Erin. Of course, a lot of people come just to get drunk. But a lot of business gets done here, too.”

  Erin looked at the woman scrunched over on the floor, and Derek’s eyes followed hers. He shook his head. “Always some of that. Too bad.” Quaid and Eileen passed by, and Erin noticed that the woman had plastered herself so close to Quaid that a playing card could not have been inserted between them.

  Catching her glance, Derek smiled. “Eileen likes your friend.”

  “She’s straightforward, isn’t she?”

  “That’s a polite way of putting it. She’s a star. We’re all spoiled.”

  Erin managed a smile. She liked his honesty. “Good you recognize it, Derek.”

  As they danced he spoke about films, but Erin was keeping her eye on Quaid.

  As for Quaid, he had been taken aback by Eileen Day’s bold approach. He tried his best to hold her at a respectable distance, but she insisted on pressing closer. She was a fine dancer, and he apologized for his own poor showing. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

  “You’re doing fine.” Eileen smiled up at him. “I like tall men. They make me feel small and feminine.” She suddenly asked, “This Erin Winslow. Are you sleeping with her?”

  Despite himself, Quaid let the shock of her question cause him to react strongly. He stared into Eileen’s eyes and shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  Quaid understood that this woman was accustomed to shocking people, that she rather liked it. He did not know exactly how to talk to a woman like this, so finally he shrugged and pushed her back slightly. “I respect her.”

  “So? You don’t sleep with women you respect?”

  “I’d rather talk about something else, if you don’t mind.”

  Eileen laughed and pulled herself closer again. “I like you. You’re pretty easily shocked. That surprises me for a man who went through a war.”

  When the music stopped and people applauded, Eileen said, “Come on. Let’s go get a drink.”

  She led him to the table, picked up a champagne cocktail, and handed him one.

  “No thanks,” he said.

  “What? You don’t drink?”

  “I’ve got a drinking problem.”

  “So do I.” Eileen laughed. She drank both cocktails and then turned to him, her eyes amused. “You want to see my bedroom?”

  By this time Quaid knew that this woman delighted in shocking people. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Eileen.”

  “You some kind of religious nut? I hope not. They’re all hypocrites. Come on. Let’s dance.”

  ****

  “I’ve really got to go home and get some sleep, Derek,” Erin said.

  “But it’s only eleven.”

  “I know, but I’m tired from the flight. I imagine we’ll be up and at it early in the morning.”

  “That’s right, we will. Come along, I’ll get Jerry to drive you home.”

  Both Quaid and Rev were ready to go, and as they left, Eileen Day came over and stood beside Derek. “The holy rollers. They’re all gone, are they?”

  “Why do you call them that?”

  “You can tell. That lanky one—all legs and arms—what’s his name?”

  “Revelation.”

  “He asked me if I was saved. Can you imagine?”

  “He asked me the same thing,” Derek smiled. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him to mind his own business, except I cussed him out a little bit.”

  “I think he’s the real article.”

  “No, they’re all hypocrites. That Erin! Sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth. It’s just an act. Don’t tell me, Derek. She’s just like I am. Give her a chance, and she’ll go along with the right guy.”

  “You’ve had a bit too much to drink, Eileen.”

  “Don’t preach at me, Derek. I’ll drink all I want!” She showed her defiance by plucking a beverage from a tray a waiter was carrying by and downing it in one gulp. “That Quaid. He’s quite a man, I think.”

  “Better not try your wiles on him, Eileen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just not a good idea. There are plenty of fellows for you.”

  “I already gave him his chance. He turned me down, but I’ll give him another chance, Derek.” She laughed, then turned and wobbled across the room, weaving from side to side.

  Derek watched her go and shook his head. “I wish she wouldn’t do that. Quaid doesn’t need that kind of trouble.”

  ****

  On the way back to the hotel, Erin asked, “Jerry, you say there are lots of parties like this?”

  “Too many. That’s all these people do. Drink and make movies.”

  “You don’t drink, do you?”

  “Not me. I need all the sense I’ve got.”

  When they arrived at the hotel, Jerry offered to go up, but Erin said, “You go ahead, Jerry.”

  “All right, I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll pick you up about eight. Derek wants you to have breakfast with him.” He hesitated, then looked at Quaid. “You’d better watch out for Eileen Day. She’s a man-eater.”

  Quaid did not answer, but as he and Erin got in the elevator, she said, “You were pretty thick with Eileen Day.”

  Quaid seemed disturbed by the comment. Rev had gone ahead and left them alone. Stopping, he turned and said, “You know, I think this is going to be a tough thing, Erin.”

  “What is?”

  “Living in this kind of world. These people are destroying themselves, and they’ll destroy anyone they touc
h.”

  Erin had felt the same thing, but she said stubbornly, “We don’t have to do what they do.”

  Quaid was very thoughtful and seemed troubled. “I’ve been reading my Bible since I found the Lord. I came across a verse last week that has stuck with me. It says, ‘Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers.’ But I think that’s exactly what we’ve done.”

  “I know that verse, but I don’t think it applies here.”

  Quaid did not argue. He said quietly, “Good night,” then went to his room. He found Rev getting ready for bed and said, “Rev, I wish we hadn’t come to this place.”

  Rev stopped, turned to him, and nodded. “Yeah, I think it was a big mistake.”

  “Erin doesn’t think so.”

  Revelation Brown shook his head. “She’s pretty taken with this life, but she’s got good sense, and she knows the Lord. It’ll come out all right.”

  Quaid was less certain. He said no more, but his thoughts went back to the party and to Eileen Day, and he could not help but wish that they were outside doing loops in the skies over Arizona, or anyplace other than Hollywood.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Making Movies

  Erin stood quietly beside Quaid, studying the scene that was unfolding before them. Derek Wells was wearing a flier’s uniform, which included a dashing crimson scarf around his neck. Erin and Quaid had come in early in the morning for a meeting but found that they had to wait until the scene was shot to Derek’s satisfaction. It never ceased to amaze Erin how the actors and actresses paid absolutely no attention to the racket and noise and talking that went on all the time they were acting. She was amused, too, by the exaggerated lip motions they used to speak their lines so the audience could read their lips. Of course, there would also be the printed words now and then on the movie screen, but the actors did everything they could to make the silent action exciting and understandable.

  Suddenly she felt Quaid pressing against her side. Glancing at him quickly, she saw that his lips were turned upward in a smile, and she wondered what was amusing him.

  The scene itself was simple enough. Eileen Day was dressed in a nurse’s uniform, and the room was supposed to be a hospital. Several cots lined the wall, and wounded fliers lay on the cots, all of them apparently in comas, for none of them turned to look at the passionate love scene that was unfolding right in the middle of the room.

  In this scene Derek was supposed to tell Eileen that he was leaving on a very dangerous mission, and she was begging him not to go. They had gone through it four times already, and now that Erin knew what to expect she waited for the final kiss. When Derek took Eileen in his arms, the camera focused on his eyes. They closed in exaggerated passion, and when his lips fell on Eileen’s, they clung to each other desperately. When the embrace was over, Derek moved his lips distinctly to declare, “You are the love of my life! I would give anything if you could love me.”

  Eileen turned toward the camera, a look of helplessness replacing her usual harsh expression. Now her lips trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. She mouthed the words, more to the camera than to him, “I do love you. I always will.”

  Immediately Derek cried, “Cut!” And Eileen’s face returned to normal as she spat, “I’ve got to have a drink, and I’m not shooting that stupid scene again!”

  “I don’t see how they can turn it on and off like that,” Quaid said quietly.

  “I don’t either,” Erin murmured.

  At that moment Derek saw Erin and Quaid and approached them, with Eileen following right behind. She immediately sidled up to Quaid, draping herself on his arm, and winked at him. “Would you like to try that last love scene, Quaid?”

  “Watch out,” Derek warned. “She’ll have you starring in the movie if she has her way about it.”

  “Is this one of the first scenes?” Erin asked.

  “Oh no. This is almost the last scene in the movie,” Derek said. “You’ve got to read the script.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Quaid said with puzzlement in his eyes. “You’re shooting one of the last scenes first?”

  “Oh yes. That way the movie could be finished even if one of the actors died. It doesn’t matter much whether we shoot from back to front or front to back. We take each scene as it is, and then it’s more or less glued together.”

  “Kind of a backward sort of thing, isn’t it?” Quaid grinned.

  “This whole business is backward. Come on, I want to show you the planes.”

  “I’ll see you later, Quaid,” Eileen called out as they left. She laughed as Quaid simply smiled at her, and the group left the building.

  “Let’s go in the car. It’s a little far to walk.”

  They all piled into the car, and Derek drove off the lot. He entertained them with stories about Hollywood until, five minutes later, he stopped in front of a large barnlike structure. “That’s what we’re using for the hangars. It used to be a barn, but it’s big enough for some of the planes anyway.”

  Eagerly the three got out, and Derek led the way toward the planes that were lined up in front.

  “What is that funny-looking plane?” Erin asked, stopping to point at one with three wings painted red.

  “That’s a Fokker triplane,” Quaid answered. “It’s the kind the Red Baron flew. I saw him in it once.”

  “Did you ever get in a dogfight with him?” Derek asked quickly.

  “No, and that’s probably a good thing. He was a deadly fighter. Many of his kills came when he dropped out of nowhere and shot his prey to pieces before the pilot even knew he was there.”

  “Did you ever fly one of these?”

  “No, but it shouldn’t be too hard,” Quaid shrugged. “All these planes fly about the same way.”

  For the next hour Derek took them from plane to plane, including the famous Sopwith Camel, manufactured in Britain.

  “Where in the world did you get all these airplanes, Derek?” Erin asked.

  “Well, most of them are rented. Some are borrowed. We had to buy two. They cost a fortune, too.”

  “I’d like to have one of these just for fun, but they’re getting pretty expensive. After the war they were cheap,” Quaid nodded. “But now they’re collectors’ items.”

  “Come along, I’ll introduce you to Harry Mapes. He’s in charge of the planes.”

  “I’ll be along pretty soon,” Rev said. “I want to give this little hummer a once-over.”

  Derek led them inside the hangar and introduced them to Mapes, a strongly built man of thirty or so with calm gray eyes and a lantern jaw. He had strong, capable hands, and Erin felt the power of his grip, although he shook her hand gently.

  “Quaid will be in charge of all the flying, Harry.”

  “Well, some of these crates are in pretty bad shape, Mr. Wells. They ain’t really safe.”

  Erin spoke up at once. “Rev is a fine mechanic. The best I ever saw.”

  “I can use all the help I can get,” Mapes said with some disgust. “These clowns I got working for me couldn’t change the radiator cap on a Model-T Ford.”

  “Don’t be shocked when you meet him, Harry,” Erin said quickly. “He’ll ask you if you’re a Christian, but he asks everyone the same question.”

  “Well, we could use a Christian or two around here. There’s enough heathens in here to start a mission.”

  “Come along inside. We’re going to shoot a scene here. I’ve got a crew waiting, or they should be.”

  “They’re in there,” Harry Mapes said, nodding. “Just like a bunch of kids. I have to keep knocking them away from the aircraft.”

  Wells led them inside, and they were greeted by three men who had come over to speak to Wells. Wells introduced them and then said proudly, “Look, there’s the mock-up we use for shooting close-ups.”

  Quaid and Erin followed him to where part of an airplane was sitting on sawhorses. It consisted merely of the fuselage with parts of the wings and the rear section, including the tail
.

  “I couldn’t figure out any way to take close-up shots in the air. No place to put a cameraman, and those cameras are pretty bulky.”

  “We can shoot it now if you want, Mr. Wells.”

  “All right. Since I’ve already got the costume on, I think we will. You two make yourselves comfortable and just watch.”

  Erin and Quaid found a couple of director’s chairs nearby and settled back to watch as Wells very carefully climbed up a small stepladder into the single cockpit. A platform was mounted on wheels, and on top of that a cameraman sat ready. Wells grinned. “There’s no need for lights, as you see. We’ve got the best light in the world.”

  “I wondered why there was no ceiling on this part of the building,” Erin said.

  Indeed, part of the ceiling had been removed so that the full sunlight came down, illuminating the pilot’s face.

  “This scene’s going to be shot in sunny weather, so show them how we arrange that, Larry.”

  Larry Tolmud, the cameraman, nodded at a screen and said, “We got a projector mounted right down here, and we can use any kind of background we want to. Right now I got nice sunny weather with bright clouds, so to the audience it’ll look like Derek’s flying in beautiful weather.”

  “Let’s shoot it, Harry,” Wells cried.

  The cameraman said, “I’m ready,” and Wells immediately put his helmet on and pulled his goggles down over his eyes. “Roll ’em!” he shouted.

  Erin watched as Derek went through the motions of flying an airplane. “It looks sort of silly, doesn’t it, Quaid?”

  “He’s right, though. There’d be no way to get this in the air. I’m curious about how they’ll do a rainy scene.”

  The scene turned out to be quite simple. Derek had gone through several motions, pretending to wave to a wingman, turning his thumbs upward, and then down for another shot. Finally he called out, “Okay, let’s have some nice stormy weather.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  The grip went over and changed the reel on the projector. Dark clouds appeared with lightning flashing on the large screen behind the mock-up.

  “Draw the curtain!” he yelled, and Quaid and Erin looked up to see that a covering was being drawn over the open section of the roof.