by Maggie Twain
Izzy places her hand on my shoulder. “You know what it is they say … don’t ever meet your heroes because they’ll only ever disappoint you.” She shakes her head sadly. “What a bitch.”
There’s a loud crash that silences the entire marquee and causes everybody to turn towards the source of the noise. In the confusion, I need a minute to see what it is and then I notice that the door to the large trailer has been thrown wide open.
“You call yourself a man?” Comes the voice over the distance and then, to my absolute horror, Jimmy comes hurtling out through the opened door and lands in the dust.
He’s backing away on his ass and then a large man dressed like a gangster from the era of prohibition comes stamping down the steps. Jimmy panics, moves faster but can’t quite get to his feet, his hands are held up in an attempt to placate the bully.
“Why don’t you get up and fight me?” The awful man moves menacingly closer, always hovering over Jimmy, my Jimmy, the boy I’ve protected my entire life.
“Please, mister, I don’t want any trouble.” Jimmy, still on his ass, scrambles through the knot of security. Why aren’t they stopping this? “Please, I don’t want any trouble,” he repeats, sounding panicked as the line for the buffet parts to let him through and now Jimmy’s heading into the marquee. He attempts to get up onto his feet but a sudden movement by his tormentor is enough to turn Jimmy’s legs to rubber and he falls back down to the ground.
My heart aches and I taste the bile in my throat, all whilst there’s not a single person who’s willing to offer any help.
The gangster looms down upon him and shoves Jimmy with his boot. My childhood friend whimpers, flails sand about all over the place, coughs and still, there’s not a single person willing to help. On the contrary, people are stepping away, and if anything they’re enjoying the spectacle, some excitement to their mundane lives but this is my friend who’s being hurt here and I can’t bear it.
Jimmy backs up against the server, he’s right beneath me now but has nowhere left to fall back. He holds up both hands to placate his tormentor. “I’m sorry, I’ll do anything to make it better but please, don’t hurt me.”
The awful man’s close to me now, how can someone so beautiful be so cruel, and now he’s unbuckling his belt, sliding the strap out from its buckles and slowly, deliberately rolling the leather around his knuckles. “So, let me get this straight … you’re refusing to stand and fight me like a man?”
Jimmy whimpers and attempts to shield his face with his arms.
“Then you leave me no choice.” The gangster pulls his fist back in preparation to strike so I quickly grab the warming tray that’s filled with meatballs, non-vegan, and throw the contents over the nasty man.
Four
Max
“You sure you’re not burned?” Dangerfield finally asks after helping himself to some of my liquor. He’s in my trailer without any of his women, which is how I know he’s riled up, as perhaps he should be, and that he considers this a serious situation.
I shake my head and the doctor, who’s shining one of those lights into my eyes, has to readjust position. “I’m fine. It was warm but not too hot.” Though by the looks of it, I’ll be removing bolognese sauce from my ears for weeks.
The producer takes a mere five seconds scrutinizing my seated, almost naked form, and then turns. “Right, that’s all I care about. Catch you later.”
“Happy to set your mind to rest,” I mutter to the bastard’s back as he exits, safe and happy that his investment hasn’t been harmed. I shift in my recliner and try to get my head around exactly what just happened.
What did happen?
One moment I’m rehearsing one of the most important scenes of the whole movie and then the next…
She was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
And she threw an entire tub of meatballs over me.
I only got a split-second glimpse of her, just a fraction of a second before my vision turned a meaty brown and then there was a heap of delicious sauce pouring down my face. Next thing I know, my security was diving on top of me and it wasn’t for a couple of minutes that they finally allowed me to stand, by which point the girl had already been taken away.
But where did she go?
“You gotta admit, Arthur,” Danny’s leaning against the wall and he still has a look of concern etched across his features, “that kid was one hell of an actor.”
I grunt in affirmation, “I thought you said this town doesn’t have a stage school?”
A blast of air shoots from his nose. “It doesn’t. I found him in some diner watching cartoons on a tablet whilst eating the biggest stack of pancakes you ever saw.”
I’m squinting at my lieutenant. “What? You mean, he’s not a real gangster?”
He’s finding it hard not to laugh. “I really don’t think so, but he sure loves his pancakes.”
I push the doctor away, “you’re done, leave me,” and look back to Danny, “well, he’s earned a stack on me. Maybe next time tell him not to do so good a damned job or better yet,” I give him my best reprimanding look, “make sure everyone knows it’s a rehearsal.”
He nods and shows me his palms. “Well, she’s gone. You can’t just assault the capo and expect to keep your job.”
“What?” I sit up suddenly and the towel falls from my lap. “Who fired her?”
He holds up a hand to block the view. “Oh, man, cover that damned thing, you put the rest of us all to fucking shame.”
I don’t listen to him and instead I stand to commence getting dressed in the spare outfit the props department brought me. “She’s not fired, do you understand me?”
He’s looking at me like I’ve gone insane. “Arthur, she just threw a full cow over you. What if you’d been injured or scolded?” He paces across to the other side of the trailer. “You know what Dangerfield’s spending on this movie? A quarter of a billion dollars is what he’s spending, and he’s not going to risk that kind of money for the sake of a catering girl who’s too stupid to know what acting is.”
I see red and before I can control myself, Arthur Templeton has a hand around Danny’s throat. “Don’t you dare call her stupid.” I squeeze and his eyes start to bulge. “If she’s fired then I walk out.” I let go and he backs away, gasping.
“Why in the heck do you care so much?” Now, perhaps that is the question. He breathes and massages his neck, “and Arthur, the next time you attack me, make sure you’re wearing clothes, alright?” He tips back his glass of bourbon and calms down. “Besides, you can’t quit, you’re under contract. If you want to remain the world’s only billionaire act … um, gangster, then I counsel against getting sued by the only man around here whose pockets are as deep as yours.”
I throw my arm up. “Damn, you think I give a fuck about that, about money?” The truth is I can’t get her image out of my head.
One image, that’s all I have of her, like a photograph that’s imprinted in my mind. She’s short and busty with a big ass, red-haired and a feminine face that’s quick to mischief. And she proved that final point, boy, did she ever. I mean, what kind of girl throws a full vat of meatballs over one of the world’s most famous and desirable bootleggers? No, I must find her and I must make her mine. Forever. I’ll even forsake my mistresses. Every last one of them. For this one crazy girl. To make her happy. Whoever she is.
“Arthur, you’ve gone quiet, speak to me.”
I pull on my new pants and button up a fresh shirt. “I have to find her.”
His head jerks back. “Excuse me?”
“You heard.” I need her in my bed and that’s all there is to it.
He snorts in a way that brings him dangerously close again to danger. “Please, tell me you want to find her so you can sue her ass. Arthur, talk to me, you’re not leaving, we’ve got a fucking movie to shoot and we’re already behind schedule.”
I punch the wall, it’s made from pinewood panels, it doesn’t break but the edge com
es out of its fixture and a large photo frame of me towering over Tom Cruise topples to the floor. “Where is she?”
He throws up his arms. “How the fuck would I know. Arthur, if you wander off set, Dangerfield’s gonna be real mad.”
“I don’t give a damn what he thinks.” I push past Danny, thrust open the door of my trailer and bound down the steps. Security moves aside and I can see that there’s still some kind of a commotion under the marquee. I make my way straight over and people rightfully move out of my way. I barely even notice the film set that’s still being hastily erected and in which we were supposed to be shooting today. The noise of hammering’s giving me a headache.
Shit, but we’re so behind schedule.
People are eating but there’s also a long line for the buffet. I see Jonny, the guy whose ass I’m supposed to be kicking in the first scene and grab him by the arm. “What’s going on?”
He flinches at my grip. “Jeez, calm down, you’ve not even caught me in bed with one of your mistresses yet.” I let go and he flexes his arm to get the feeling back. “The line’s moving slow, is what’s going on. It seems that the girl Dangerfield fired, you know, the one who drowned you in Italian cuisine, was the one in charge around here and now there’s only her friend still around to pick up the pieces.” He shakes his head. “Poor girl’s run off her feet.”
So, she truly has been fired. That makes me angry. Doubtless, my woman’s at home now figuring out how to console herself. I can’t bear it. I glance around for Dangerfield but the bastard’s nowhere to be found. Right now, he’s probably with his women in his trailer, testing the suspension. I move down the line and have to swerve around the meatballs, which are still staining the platform. Sure enough, there’s a solitary girl with sweat covering her face who’s breaking the world speed record for serving food.
After a second, she notices me and makes a double-take. “Oh, God, it’s Max Falcon. Hi!”
I’m about to correct her but decide against it. “Where is she?” Her eyes widen briefly and I realize my tone was aggressive, unnecessarily so. I am Arthur Templeton.
She steps away and shovels a heap of fries onto a plate for one of the riggers. “Listen, mister, I don’t care who you are, I’m not going to give up my friend just so you can have your revenge. You deserved what you got.”
My God, I knew I was good but I had no idea I was that good. The kid too. Or maybe the inhabitants of this town are incapable of telling the difference between fact and fiction. She angers me. “Listen, I’m not going to…”
“And what about the rest of this movie, huh?” She’s slapping food on plates like nothing I’ve ever seen.
“What are you talking about, ‘the rest of this movie’?”
“You do realize we’re the only people in Gallup and for about a hundred miles in every direction who’s capable of feeding you ingrates, right?” She spares a second to give me an angry glare. “You’ve just fired the boss! Answer me this, genius, what are you people going to eat tomorrow, huh?”
I slam my fist down against the serving unit and instantly pull away because it’s scorching hot. These two girls are beating me up today. “Listen to me, whoever you are, I need you to tell me where she lives.”
“Pah!” She shakes her head. “And why would I do that?”
Damn it, but if she doesn’t tell me then I’ll knock on every door in this town, which shouldn’t take too long. “Because I’m going to make everything alright, that’s why.”
“Yeah,” her face softens, “I guess you might be able to do that. But that producer guy was pretty pissed and he upset my friend. She might not even want to come back.”
I try my best to sound reassuring. “I can handle him. Now, do you have an address?”
Her eyes narrow. “Don’t you even want to know her name?”
Five
Mel
“I’m sorry, Aunt Dot, I just don’t know what came over me.” Actually, I’m not sorry at all and I’d do the exact same thing all over again, a thousand times over. No, a million. Nobody threatens any friend of mine, especially not Jimmy, and that clown had been a second away from hurting him.
Dot’s fingers link in the way they always do when she’s nervous, the way I see her do often these days. She hums, “I understand why you did it, dear, and on some levels it’s even commendable. I just wish the consequences weren’t potentially so great for us.” She smiles but I know she’s just putting on a brave face and now I feel truly awful.
No. I messed up. I messed up big. But still, I’m glad I did it. Sort of. Because there was nobody else willing to jump in. I exhale profoundly, “how was I supposed to know it was Max Falcon?” That was probably the worst part of it and something I’ll never live down.
She gives me a look of incredulity because even my sixty-five-year-old aunt knows who Max Falcon is. She’s about to say something but words fail her. What is there to even say at this point?
We’re sitting in one of the booths by the window, our coffees untouched. It’s almost time for the evening rush but the place is still empty. Looks like the regulars are all employed on the movie set. Everyone except me. We’re discussing what to do next because the outlay for all the extra food and equipment was extortionate and the advance given to us by Bret barely covered half. I've been fired, which means the contract we have with the studio will almost certainly be canceled too and when that happens we’ll be in severe financial difficulty. It’s not that I care for myself, necessarily, but I most certainly do care about Aunt Dot. I’m supposed to be making her life easier after Uncle Jonah’s passing, not bankrupting her.
I groan into my coffee and recall the moment, losing my temper and heaving the meaty contents of an entire industrial-sized warming tray over one of the most famous and desirable men on the planet, the shocked silence that ensued, Max being dived on by a half dozen burly security men, Izzy covering her gaping mouth, the director yelling at me from across the marquee and then finally being hauled away between yet more security whilst Bret threatens to sue me for everything I have if his star is unable to work. Jimmy had caught up with me on the perimeter as my pass was being confiscated.
“You alright?” I asked him with a beating heart. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
He’d just shrugged and spent the entire walk back to the diner playing puzzles on his tablet, which was perhaps the most confusing aspect of this whole event because usually he cries when people are mean to him. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. Perhaps he was undergoing a delayed reaction to the trauma and I ought to pay him a visit, just to make sure he truly is ok.
What has to be one of the oldest still functional cars in existence rolls up and stops on the street. I can’t help but stare at it with a nervous feeling and then the door swings open and my back thumps against the seating sponge because Max Falcon exits. He’s so large that he has to duck his head considerably to save from striking the canvas roof and his expression just screams man on a mission.
“Oh, no, what now?” I gasp as Aunt Dot scratches her head.
“How’d he find you?”
“I don’t know.”
Or has he?
Maybe he just wants to order something. We are pretty famous for our pancakes, well, at least Gallup famous but no, surely if he just wants to order then he’d have sent some sycophant underling to do his bidding for him.
No, don’t be ridiculous, Mel, there’s a hundred people on set who know exactly who I am, as well as where I work and live. He’s here to serve me court papers. And he’s come personally because he’s mean, the kind of mean who’d beat my friend Jimmy, and now he wants to see me squirm up close when he tells me that he’ll be seeing me in court, or rather his representative will.
I consider bolting for the kitchen and out the back door but almost immediately I decide against such a course. I refuse to leave Aunt Dot alone to deal with this overrated, overpaid and over pampered human being and besides, I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.
Well, apart from drowning the man in meatballs, but that was fully deserved. No, unfortunately, it looks like this is one of those moments where there’s nothing that can be done other than to stand your ground.
He’s striding for the door now and we make eye contact through the window. Shit, he truly is here for me. He pushes the door open, triggering the bell, and never did it sound so ominous.
I glare again at the kitchen and consider it, but no, instead, I meekly slide out from the booth, deigning to confront this man in person. “Please stay here and let me handle this.” I pat Dot’s hand as I step away.
I’m walking down the aisle and we meet in the middle, a couple meters apart. Wow, but he’s tall, I notice that immediately. The next thing I realize is that he’s staring at me with a dopey glazed over expression.
I fold my arms and make a deliberate show of tapping my foot. I’m not afraid of him. “Come for another shower, huh?”
His lips smush together in frustration and I can’t tell if he wants to serve me a court order or something else entirely. He’s wearing an exact replica of the outfit I already ruined, which kind of makes me angry, because if there’s no damage caused to him then he’s unlikely to learn his lesson, though I have to admit, grudgingly, that he wears it rather well. “Your name is Mel,” he states as a matter of fact.
My eyes widen slightly. It just had to be Izzy who gave me up. I’ll be having words with her. “Pfft, you know, for a so-called movie star, your opening line’s pretty poor.”
He tilts back slightly from the hips, I think he enjoyed that. He spends a couple seconds looking me up and down, which kind of feels unsettling in the most amazing way, then he does that smushing thing with his lips again, almost like he’s trying to suppress something. Ok, now I’m definitely getting the impression it’s something else he wants to serve.