The Golden Angel

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Get a shot of this and then give me a shower!” Derek called out.

  The two watched as Derek Wells pretended to fly through stormy weather. One of the other grips rocked the airplane back and forth, giving the sensation of a plane being tossed by the wind. A water hose supplied the spray for the shower. Water flowed down over Derek’s helmet and face and over his leather coat, and finally he yelled, “Okay, that’s it!”

  As soon as Wells crawled down from the mock-up, he took the helmet off and shook the water off of his coat. “What do you think, Quaid?”

  “Well, there’re only a few things wrong.”

  Derek looked disappointed. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “The machine gun is wrong. It should be a Lewis gun with that plane.”

  “A Lewis gun? What’s this one?”

  “That’s a Spandau, a German gun. It’ll be fine if you’re going to do close-ups of German fighters.”

  “We’ll do a lot of those.”

  “Then you should change the gun.”

  “Do you think anybody will notice?” Derek asked rather anxiously.

  “Those who flew these planes will notice. But it’s a small item. I don’t know how technically correct you want to be.”

  “As correct as possible,” Derek said.

  “That’s not all. Several times, when you fired the gun, you put both hands on the handle. Who was flying the plane while you were doing that? We had to fly with one hand and shoot with the other hand.”

  “Hmm—hadn’t thought of that. Anything else wrong?” Derek demanded.

  He listened as Quaid mentioned half a dozen other things, and finally he held up his hand in surrender. “I give up! You get together with Jerry this afternoon and make sure that all this stuff is right. Come to think of it, I guess you’d better read the script. No telling what kind of boners are in it from a technical point of view. Now, let’s go have lunch.”

  “I think I’ll skip lunch and go talk to Mapes a little bit,” Quaid said. “I need to get to know these planes inside and out.”

  “Okay. I’ll have a script sent to you, and to you too, Erin. Come on, Erin, unless you want to look at the planes. We can plan some of the other scenes.”

  “All right. I’ll be back soon, Quaid.”

  ****

  After several days of filming, Derek took Erin out for their usual dinner date. He pulled over to a restaurant that said “Tony’s” in big lights. “I’m starving,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

  “I’m tired, too,” Erin said. “I didn’t know making movies was such hard work.”

  “That Quaid, he’s a slave driver. He knows what he’s talking about, though. Come on, let’s eat.”

  They went inside and soon were seated at a table. They both ordered spaghetti and talked quietly about the day’s activities until the food came. They fell to their meal with healthy appetites, and after a few bites, Derek asked her, “What do you think about making movies?”

  “It’s not what I thought it would be like. I don’t have any sense of the story, since you don’t shoot in sequence. That first day we saw the death of Lloyd Chandler first, and late in the afternoon you were shooting a scene about how he came into the squadron.”

  “I know. That takes some getting used to.”

  Derek took a sip of his wine and said, “Something bothering you, Erin?”

  “Not really.”

  “I think there is. I’m getting to know you well enough I can spot things like that. What’s the matter?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  Derek let the silence roll on for a while, and then he said seriously, “I know what it is.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “You’re bothered about Eileen coming on to Quaid, aren’t you?” He smiled when she blinked her eyes with surprise. “You’re not too good at hiding your emotions, Erin. Every time those two get together, I see warning lights go off in your eyes.”

  “All right, it does bother me. I know this doesn’t mean a lot to you, but Quaid’s just become a Christian recently. And now one of the most beautiful women in the country is practically begging him to—” She broke off in confusion, unable to complete the sentence.

  “Trying to get him in bed with her. Yes, she is.”

  “Why does she want him? She could have almost any man she wanted.”

  “It’s the old, old story, Erin.”

  “What story is that?”

  “Eileen wants what she can’t have.”

  Erin thought about that and said, “I remember a story our teacher in school read to us once about a very rich man. Somebody asked him what he wanted most in life, and I’ll never forget his answer: ‘If I can think of it, it’s not what I want.’ ”

  Derek smiled. “I’m not too swift, but even I get that one. Some things can’t be put into words.”

  “It’s asking a lot for a man to refuse a woman who’s being that obvious, isn’t it, Derek?”

  “Yes, it is. Most men can’t do it. Most men won’t even try. I admire Quaid. I can see he’s doing his best to fend her off. Would it be so terrible if he did have a fling with Eileen?”

  “It would be terrible for him.”

  “I’m not talking about him. Would it be terrible for you?”

  “You’re asking me if I care for Quaid, but the answer’s not so easy.”

  “It shouldn’t be too hard. You either love him or you don’t.”

  “No, because there are all kinds of love. I love my father one way, and I love Quaid another way.”

  “So you do love him?” Derek said.

  “I think you’ve got a different idea about love than I have. You’ve been in Hollywood too long. To you love is always something physical, but I don’t think it’s like that.”

  “What else, then?” Derek asked, a puzzled expression on his face. “You’re right, though. Hollywood’s got some twisted ideas.”

  “I think a person’s life is a bit like an arch made out of stone. You’ve seen arches like that, haven’t you?”

  “Oh yes. Many times in Europe.”

  “You remember the top is always called the keystone. It’s that keystone that holds all the other stones in place. I watched them build one once in New York City. They had to first build a platform to hold all the stones up, but when they put the last stone in—the keystone—they could tear the platform down and the arch would hold together by itself. That keystone was what held it up. I remember,” she smiled, a sweet expression touching her eyes, “that the mason who was building the arch turned to me after he put in the keystone and said, ‘The keystone never sleeps.’ I thought about that for a long time, and it’s become kind of a rule of life to me.”

  Derek Wells was used to attractive women, but there was something different about Erin Winslow. She was as lovely as any starlet he had ever met, but he saw a depth in her that radiated out from her eyes and made her more beautiful than her mere physical attributes. Her features were so quick to express her emotions. She loved laughter, and the love of life lay in her eyes and in her lips. She was inwardly serene and confident, he had noted, with a composed mouth and a directness that could either charm a man or chill him to the bone. Now she was pensive, and he urged her, “What does all that have to do with what I asked you?”

  “I think our lives have to have a keystone. If it’s not there, everything falls down. Everything depends on that keystone.”

  “And yours is Jesus Christ.”

  Surprised at his perception, she said, “That’s right, Derek. What’s yours?”

  “Money. Power. Success.”

  Erin studied his classic features. He was handsome to a fault, but now she saw a sadness that most people never saw in this man. “Those things all fail sooner or later, you know.”

  “You’re right.”

  His words were abrupt, and Erin knew she had touched him. Perhaps uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken, he suddenly shifted to talking
about the movie’s story line and about her part in it. “You’ll do fine in your role, Erin.”

  “I feel like an impostor. I’m no actress.”

  “You’ll do all right. I’ll help you.”

  “The story seems a little sappy to me.”

  “I know, but it’ll pack ’em in.”

  “Quaid says that the script doesn’t really reflect what it was like over there in France during the war.”

  “Nobody wants realism in a movie. They want illusion. A handsome hero overcomes all odds and defeats the evil Hun. He kisses the blond heroine, and they live happily ever after.” He saw her shake her head slightly and said quietly, “It’s Hollywood, Erin—it may not be true, but it’s what people want.”

  ****

  When they reached Erin’s hotel room after leaving the restaurant, Erin turned to Derek to speak, but before she could, he said, “Let me come in.”

  “No, Derek.”

  “Please.” He tried to put his arm around her.

  “Don’t you ever give up?”

  “I’m like Eileen. I’m not used to being rejected. May I kiss you?”

  Erin hesitated just one fraction of a second too long. She had done so not deliberately but out of confusion. When he kissed her, which he did expertly, she found herself enjoying it and kissed him back, despite her better judgment.

  Derek held her tightly, but when he lifted his lips from hers, he said, “You’re a wonder, Erin. I don’t like starlets. They’re as phony as a wooden nickel, but I’m falling for you.”

  Erin felt guilty now for allowing him to kiss her. “You’ll have to find someone else, Derek.” She hesitated and then said, “I think you’re still in love with your wife.”

  “No, I’m not,” he protested.

  “Your face changes when you mention her name. And several times you’ve talked about good times in your life, and all of them are connected with her.”

  Derek dropped his arms and stepped back. “It’s too late. You can’t go back again to something like that.” His usually chipper tone became suddenly morose.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. You just can’t.”

  “Don’t be foolish!” Erin said quickly. She touched his arm lightly and said, “Of course you can. Why don’t you try? Is she married again?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe she still loves you.”

  “She couldn’t!” he said bitterly. He gave her one unfathomable look and bit off the words. “I gave her too hard a time. But you wouldn’t understand. Listen, I’ve got to go.” And with that, he turned and left.

  Erin watched him go and felt a great pity for him. He had received so much of what the world had to offer—and he had so much to give—and yet life for the famous Derek Wells was empty.

  ****

  Erin was exhausted. They had worked hard for two weeks, and Quaid was trying to talk to her about the next scene. “It’s going to be a little bit dangerous, Erin.”

  “I’ll be careful. I always am, aren’t I?”

  For a moment Quaid stood there silently, and she knew him well enough to understand that he was about to say something unpleasant. She had learned to recognize this sign in him early in their relationship, and now she said quickly, “What is it, Quaid? Are you really worried about this maneuver?”

  “It’s not just the air scenes that are dangerous, Erin.” He could not seem to come out with the words. In the sunlight his black hair glistened, and the brightness made him narrow his eyes. “I don’t know how to say this, but I think you’re seeing Wells too much.”

  Perhaps it was guilt that caused Erin to say, “That’s none of your business, Quaid. I’ll see anybody I like.”

  Her words seemed to strike him with more force than she had expected. He did not speak for a moment, and then when he did he only said, “I’m sorry,” then turned and walked away.

  Erin had the impulse to call after him, but she did not know what to say. He’s right, she thought. I am seeing Derek a lot, but why does Quaid care? The question she asked herself stayed with her all afternoon, and when they parted that evening there was a wall between them that she regretted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Love Under the Lights

  “I love you, Darlene. I’ll love you forever!”

  Erin lifted her arms and put them around Derek’s neck. He clasped her firmly, and his lips came down on hers. She had her eyes closed but was aware that her response was too rigid. It was something she could not help, and she was not surprised when she heard Jerry Haskins call out, “Cut!”

  Erin freed herself from Derek’s embrace and shook her head. “I just can’t do this, Derek.”

  “It’s all right,” Wells said quickly. “It’s just new to you.”

  Jerry Haskins, standing over by the camera, did not speak, but he was an anxious man. They had shot this particular scene four times, and none of the takes had proven good enough to suit either Wells’s or his own taste. Jerry shook his head almost imperceptibly, but his frustration with her was obvious.

  Although Erin could not know what Haskins was thinking, she was embarrassed that she couldn’t please him. Her part in the movie was no more than ten scenes, but two of those were love scenes, and every time Haskins and Wells tried to capture these particular moments on film, they all knew it wasn’t working. The other scenes were accomplished easily enough, but Erin was well aware that she was slowing down production.

  “Let’s take a break, everybody,” Derek shouted out. He turned and took Erin’s arm, and the two walked away. The setting for the scene was an ornate drawing room, and Erin was wearing a beautiful satiny gown. She said nothing until Derek stepped into his makeshift office, converted from what had originally been a storeroom. A coffeepot sat on a small gas stove, and Derek, without asking, took down two mugs and poured them full. “Have some of this.” He sipped the brew, then shook his head. “It’s strong enough to stop a charging rhino, I think.”

  Erin was grateful for the break. Her nerves were wound up tight, but she could not sit down, even though Derek waved toward one of the chairs. She was trying to find some way to explain to Derek how difficult this all was for her, but he seemed to read her thoughts.

  “I know it’s tough, but it’s really an impersonal thing.” Derek leaned against the wall, stuck one hand in his pocket, and held the cup with the other. “Everybody asks about the love scenes, but as you see, in scenes such as the one we’ve been shooting, love is the last thing on anybody’s mind. Everybody’s thinking about position and lighting and expression and a thousand other things. But there’s nothing personal in it.”

  Erin managed to summon up a faint smile. “I don’t altogether agree, Derek.”

  Surprise washed across Derek’s face. “You think it is personal?”

  “I just can’t relax. Kissing somebody just seems to be a very personal thing.”

  “I suppose you have to be brought up on it. Most actors and actresses start out very young, and they learn to disassociate themselves from emotions like you’re having.”

  “Do you really feel nothing at all when you kiss me in these scenes?”

  Derek’s lips framed a no, but then he laughed shortly. “I confess that I do, Erin, but you’re different.”

  “Why am I different from any other woman?”

  “Because you can’t help but make me conscious of your feminine side. Professional actresses—” Shrugging his shoulders, Derek made a face tinged with disgust. “None of the ones I’ve known have the qualities that you have.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Why, it’s simple. Most of them are doing this kind of scene for a living. It’s just a job to them, like typing a letter or making a machine part in a factory. No more than that. But you’re not like that, Erin.”

  “I know. I don’t think I ever will be.”

  “Sure you will. We’ll just have to practice harder.”

  Erin shook her head. “How can you say
that? You and Jerry have done everything to help me through this. Everybody’s been wonderful, but it’s just not working.”

  “We’ll make it work,” Derek said. He set his coffee cup down on the desk, came over, and took her free hand. He held it firmly and looked into her eyes. There was a magnetism in him that attracted Erin. She had learned that he was a good-natured man, kind, not at all what she had expected from a world-famous actor. She had also discovered that, despite the atmosphere and the bad moral climate of Hollywood, there was a decency and a goodness in him.

  Now she felt the power of his personality, but at the same time she knew she could never become what he wanted to make of her. “I’ll try it again if you say so,” she sighed.

  “That’s my girl!” Wells put his arms around her and squeezed her and smiled. “I’ve got some news for you.”

  Erin noticed that he did not immediately release her from his arms. She moved almost imperceptibly and then he let his arms drop. “Cecil B. DeMille called me today. He wanted to talk about you.”

  Erin blinked in surprise. “Me?”

  “Yes. He’s interested in using you in a film.”

  She laughed shortly. “He’s not as smart as you make him out to be.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’m just no actress.”

  “Well, in DeMille’s film you don’t have to be much of an actress. He makes adventure films. Lots of scenes with thousands of extras all riding horses and things like that. He’s not at all picky about great acting, but he does demand action, which is probably what drew him to you.”

  Despite herself, Erin was interested. She had met DeMille twice and had liked him very much indeed. The qualities that DeMille demanded of an actress, according to Derek’s description, would not be difficult. She was aware that Wells was watching her carefully and said, “I don’t know, Derek. I’ll have to pray about it.”

  Her remark amused Wells. He laughed softly and shook his head. “You are a wonder, Erin! Every actress in Hollywood would give an arm and a leg to work for DeMille, and you’ll have to pray about it. But that’s what makes you so different.”

  At that moment Haskins knocked on the door and asked, “Do you want to try it again?”