Delayed Rays of a Star

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Delayed Rays of a Star Page 33

by Amanda Lee Koe


  Well, Marlene said, I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

  They sat in comfortable silence as Marlene finished her cigarette.

  How’s your leg doing? Anna May asked.

  Better, Marlene said. Everything’s nice and numb now.

  We’d better get you back outside, Anna May said, everyone must be wondering where you are. No no, Marlene said. Take me back to the Riviera, please. And not in the limo waiting in the parking lot, she added quickly, then they’ll know I’ve left. Anna May was trying to understand what Marlene meant. The after parties, Marlene said, they’re in my contract.

  For a moment she was quiet, and Anna May felt sorry for her. But Marlene had already begun to busy herself, shaking out two crumpled Hermès silk scarves with a flourish. Come, she said, signaling to Anna May. When Anna May didn’t move, Marlene inched forward to wrap the scarf first around the crown of her head, then over her mouth, nose, and cheeks. The two silk ends she brought to the back of Anna May’s head and tied a dead knot. I always keep one or two handy, Marlene said, they’re very helpful.

  This is ridiculous, Anna May said. Anyway, I don’t get spotted anymore.

  With a face like that? Marlene said. Rubbish! Can you breathe in there?

  * * *

  —

  THEY SLIPPED OUT through the back of the club in their makeshift silk masks, Marlene gripping Anna May’s arm to steady herself as they hailed a cab. In the cab they kept silent, but Anna May’s shroud had begun to slide down her nose, and she fidgeted to keep it in place.

  Everything okay back there? the cabbie asked. He was a young Latino in a rumpled T-shirt. Yes, Marlene called out, we’re perfectly fine. The words came out muffled. Marlene turned to Anna May to readjust the scarf. The cabbie looked uncomfortable as he eyed them in the rearview mirror. What’s with the hankies, he said, you sick or something?

  At this Anna May burst out laughing.

  She began to untie the scarf, even though Marlene was shaking her head vehemently. My friend here is a hypochondriac, Anna May said to the cabbie. I’m sorry? the cabbie said. She’s afraid of cooties, Anna May said. Marlene pinched her. Ow, Anna May said. Are you okay, ma’am? The cabbie seemed very confused. Look, ladies, he said, you’re not taking me for a ride, are you? Some skank already ran off on me without paying this evening. If that’s what you two’re thinking, I’m going to have to let you off right here, right now.

  He pulled up the hand brake.

  They were on a street corner with a cheap-looking motel, lit up by a large horseshoe. Even though Marlene’s face was swaddled securely in silk, Anna May could read the indignation all over it. Rifling through her purse, Marlene brandished a big fifty-dollar bill. Look, sonny, Marlene said, peeling back the silk around her mouth to speak sharp and clear. This here’s more than ten times the fare. Yours to keep, if you shut your trap the rest of the way back. The cabbie took the bill from Marlene, checking for the watermark. He let out a low whistle. You ain’t shitting, he said. Nope, Marlene agreed, I’m worth my weight in gold.

  They rode in silence till the cab passed a nondescript late-night diner. Pull over, Marlene said. Make a detour. What is it? Anna May asked. Ninety-nine-cent shrimp cocktails, Marlene said importantly, pointing to the flashing neon sign outside. Anna May suggested it would be easier to get something to eat back at the Riviera. Of course, Marlene said, but what would be the fun in that?

  Marlene drew out another fifty-dollar bill.

  I want you to go in there, she said to the cabbie, and get two shrimp cocktails. Three, she added, if you’d like one as well. She gave him another fifty-dollar bill to pay for the shrimp cocktails. Tell them for fifty dollars you want it for here, she said, but to go. He looked nonplussed. For here but to go, Marlene explained as if it were obvious, you’re paying good money to take the works with you—glass, spoon, and all. He thought for a moment, eyes on the fifty. Ma’am, he said, I’ll try my best. Then he turned to them seriously. Ma’am, he said. You’re not going to carjack me, are you? Sweetheart, Marlene said, honestly I don’t know where you get your ideas from!

  He left them in the cab.

  Marlene leaned over Anna May to roll down the window. Hey, she called out, see if you can pinch a bottle of hot sauce on the way out! The cabbie signaled A-OK, and Marlene bobbed her head at him, the offhand nod of a woman who was used to getting whatever she wanted wherever she went. So, Anna May said, I guess some things never change.

  What? Marlene wanted to know.

  You know what I mean, Anna May said.

  You say that like it’s a bad thing, Marlene said. She turned to her and smiled. Have I told you how happy I am to see you, Anna?

  * * *

  —

  SIGHTING THE CABBIE’S silhouette walking back toward them balancing three cocktail glasses between his two hands, Marlene let out a whoop. Anna May reached across to open the front door so he could come back in. Señoritas, he bowed as he passed them their shrimp cocktails and cutlery. He dipped his hand into his back pocket and presented a bottle of hot sauce. Excellent, Marlene exclaimed, ripping off her scarf and pecking him on the cheek, I knew we could count on you! Stunned, he relaxed into his seat. Knicked the hot sauce, he mumbled thickly. No one saw, I don’t think. Done dousing her cocktail, Marlene turned to Anna May: Want some? Just a bit, Anna May said, as Marlene let loose a whole volley by accident. Oops, she said. As they rolled out of the parking lot over a hump, Marlene screeched and dripped gravy all over the backseat.

  The cabbie was tuning through radio channels.

  He stopped on Connie Francis’s “Who’s Sorry Now?”

  Anna May had always thought that Connie Francis was daytime pop, but listening to this song past midnight in the back of a Yellow Cab, shrimp cocktail in hand, beside an old friend who was singing along with full-throated gusto, she wasn’t so sure. Then the song ended, and the station program segued into a late-night talk show. They were quiet for a while, until the cabbie began to hum “Cuando Calienta el Sol” over the radio’s indistinct banter, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. When Marlene came in at the chorus in what was clearly phonetic Spanish, the cabbie joined in with native facility. He had a beautiful baritone. Starting tentatively, his voice grew stronger, and Anna May heard Marlene pulling back to harmonize with him.

  The cabbie was in top form.

  This was the real show, Anna May thought, leaning back in the cab. There are never any tickets to the real show. Marlene’s eyes were shut tight as they hit the final verse, and the cabbie had lifted his hands off the steering wheel, mi delirio, me estremezco, oh oh oh! Anna May drank in every last consonant until an empty echo rippled through the moving vehicle. All that was left now was the engine’s muted hum, and the laugh track on the radio. Anna May didn’t know what to say, so she put her hand on Marlene’s knee. But Marlene was noisily spooning up the last of her shrimp cocktail, scraping the bottom of the glass, and if Anna May knew her at all, Marlene was doing it just to undercut the emotion of the moment, the way the best directors followed a heavy scene with a light one, or vice versa. True enough, when she was done, she turned to Anna May with a sly, smug look. Tell me, Anna, Marlene said, delivering the line like it was stock dialogue from a drive-in movie and she was some sort of teen idol, tell me this isn’t the best ninety-nine-cent shrimp cocktail you’ve ever had?

  As per Marlene’s instructions, the cabbie dropped them off at the Riviera’s service entrance so they could sneak in from the back. Empty cocktail glasses clinked in the backseat. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier, he said reverentially, bidding them farewell.

  That’s no problem at all, Marlene said magnanimously.

  Before you go, could you please, he blushed, sign an autograph for me, Miss West?

  * * *

  —

  ANNA MAY WAS laughing so hard she had to stop and bend ove
r as they made their way through the corridor of the service entrance. You be the judge, Anna! That minx is at least ten years older than me, Marlene was fuming, and a whole head shorter. Do I look anything like Mae West? Not to mention the bucked teeth, Marlene added sourly, and those farm-girl tits. Don’t get me wrong—I like Mae, but young people these days have shit for brains!

  Anna May had sunk down to the carpeted corridor floor.

  Get back up this instant, Marlene said, hooking Anna May’s arm in hers, where are your manners! Anna May let Marlene pull her up, but a few steps later she’d burst out laughing again. For all her bravado, Marlene had not said anything to the cabbie about his grave mistake. Silently she’d taken his pen and written M, then A in block letters on the bill of his baseball cap, before hesitating and passing it back.

  Ma, Anna May said weakly, Ma.

  You’re cruel, Marlene pouted, but she was trying not to laugh, too.

  Arm in arm they careened down the service hall, passing gigantic carts of unlaundered sheets. Can you smell it? Marlene said loudly, sniffing the air. Makeup sex, breakup sex, Christian sex, heathen sex—

  A chambermaid down the hallway turned back, and Anna May nudged Marlene. Marlene winced. Her leg must be hurting, Anna May had forgotten all about that. Shut your mouth and lean on me, Anna May said as they found the elevator. Marlene was heavier than she had expected and it was difficult to prop her up, but they managed to make their way back to the guest wing and into Marlene’s corner suite after crisscrossing service corridors.

  We made it, Anna!

  Anna May looked around the suite. Bouquets of lilies on the dresser, who knew where hers had gone? It was just another bunch of flowers. Several pairs of boots were lined up against the wall. If Marlene hadn’t mentioned their half-size variations, Anna May would have thought they were identical spares. Marlene made straight for the telephone to check through her voice messages. There was just one from her manager, who wanted to know if she was still at the after party.

  Nothing from him, Marlene said. He doesn’t even care!

  She looked over at Anna May, as if expecting her to ask: Who?

  Anna May was not about to be drawn into any of this. It took her no effort to step away, saying: Let me go run you a warm bath. She saw Marlene’s face fall as she walked away, but there was nothing she could or should do about that. In the bathroom, waiting for the tub to fill up, Anna May recapped a tube of lipstick on the vanity counter. Beside it was a squarish hairbrush with wire bristles filled with linty blond hair, and a half-used travel-sized bottle of expensive-looking hand lotion. Anna May worked the rich cream into her fingers. When she got back to the room, Marlene had fallen asleep. Walking in on her like this was a nice secret to keep. To know that this face could look susceptible and unknowing, too, parted lips breathing in and out with a slight wheeze. She tapped Marlene on the shoulder, waking her gently.

  The bathwater will get cold, Anna May said.

  Marlene frowned as her eyes readjusted to the light, and then she jumped right back into action. Shall we go down to the Hickory for porterhouse steaks, Anna? There’s an open-flame grill in the middle of the restaurant, and you can watch your meat being done. Plus it’s all on the house, I pay for nothing in the Riviera. Those gangsters really know how to treat you like a lady.

  It’s way past midnight, Anna May said.

  I’ll make us some coffee, Marlene said, and we can head over to the blackjack lounge or the slot machines. I haven’t much luck at slots but blackjack? I never lose if I’m playing a heart hand. And the croupiers—twins—so cute! I’ve been working on them.

  It’s late, Anna May said, I think I should go.

  You could stay the night, Marlene said, nodding toward the luxurious room.

  I’m getting too old for sleepovers, Anna May said, and so are you.

  Pooh, Marlene said, waving a hand, speak for yourself! We could have room service for breakfast, she added, they make the best pancakes, and they iron the newspapers. How about that?

  Marlene was getting carried away, and it was all too clear now: her wants were not needs, they had always been whims. Thirty years ago, Anna May might have stayed—and although she was not surprised by any of this, she was disappointed that Marlene had not even noticed any change whatsoever in her mood, and was still going on. This suite is huge, she was saying, I told them I had no need for something so large, but they insisted—

  Don’t you ever get tired of yourself? Anna May asked.

  Marlene stared unblinkingly back at her, but Anna May could see from her eyes that she was hurt. It was too late to take the words back, and she did not want to pretend she was sorry. Uncharacteristically, Marlene seemed to have nothing to say. Her hot-ironed curls were coming loose. I’m going to go, Anna May said, okay? Without waiting for an answer she slipped out of Marlene’s suite, hearing the heavy door click shut behind her as she made her way down the carpeted corridor.

  * * *

  —

  WAITING FOR THE valet to get back to the driveway with her car, Anna May was glad she would be out of Vegas soon. Nothing on the strip felt real, she thought, everything was made to seem like it was something else. Across the road a big sign for cheap Indian jewelry was flashing, 50 PERCENT OFF. Someone lit a cigarette beside her on the Riviera’s driveway, and she was about to move away from the smoke when she realized it was Marlene. She’d thrown on a gabardine coat and dark glasses and was leaning her weight on a hotel umbrella for support. Anna May was surprised Marlene had come down, but she gave her a cool smile. I forgot to thank you, Marlene began, and who knows when I’ll see you again. In another ten years I could be a double amputee, she joked, taking a drag, but there’s probably a market for that. But really now, she turned to face Anna May more directly, thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.

  Knowing you, Anna May said lightly, you’d have found a way.

  She couldn’t see Marlene’s eyes behind her dark glasses.

  Yes, Marlene said. But tonight was kind of fun, wasn’t it?

  Sure, Anna May said noncommittally. The valet was pulling up in her beat-up blue coupe. It was nothing like Marlene’s chauffeured limo, and Anna May was glad to note that she didn’t care, and wasn’t embarrassed, that Marlene was seeing this. My car’s here, she said to Marlene as the valet got out and held the door open. Marlene ground her cigarette out under her heel and stepped toward Anna May. They embraced formally, touching cheek to cheek. Between Jo and you, Marlene murmured, Shanghai Express was my best picture. Don’t you agree? There was nothing to agree with, Anna May thought. We never kept in touch, Marlene said as they came apart. She removed her dark glasses, and her eyes were uncertain, just this once. You don’t hate me, do you?

  No, Anna May said carefully. What would I hate you for?

  You know, Marlene said. We could have given them something to talk about.

  An old look began to pass between them. First it was real. Then it became a look only two actresses could have shared. She was starting to open herself up, to let the way Marlene was looking at her affect the way she looked back. The valet stood at the car door. Her engine was running. If she didn’t go now, she might never leave. Take care of the legs, Anna May said as she leaned in to kiss the fine wrinkles crinkling the ends of Marlene’s eyes. That glamorous goose had piled on two layers of false lashes and they tickled her lips at their ends.

  Good-bye, Shanghai Lily, she said.

  Anna May did not look back as she slid into the driver’s seat. The valet shut the door with just the right amount of effort to make it catch briskly, without slamming. Discreetly, as she drove off, she watched the small shape of Marlene recede in the rearview mirror. Marlene was putting her dark glasses back on, but she did not step back into the hotel right away. That might have meant little to nothing, but for Anna May it was enough: this woman, standing on a porch, w
atching her leave. It was not until Anna May rounded the bend of the driveway that she saw Marlene pull her coat more tightly around her and limp inside with the help of the umbrella, as the bellboy opened the heavy glass door with a smart salute.

  * * *

  —

  COMING TO THREE in the morning, the asphalt grids of any given city are thick with the warm shadows of the day gone by. Riding through her town, Anna May rolled down the window. I love you better by night, she thought. L.A. never looked more beautiful than when it was empty. The tall palm trees on either side of the long boulevard were planted in such straight lines their dark silhouettes looked like a desert mirage with no beginning and no end. Passing the quiet streets, she smiled to no one, for no reason she could think of. She slowed to a halt at a red light, waiting patiently for the pedestrian sign to be done with its urgent blinking, although nobody was there to cross the road. She put all ten fingers to her nose and inhaled. Marlene’s hand cream had dried down to something sweet and dirty, like old money and lavender sprigs left forgotten inside a calfskin satchel. When the light turned green, Anna May floored the accelerator. Picking up speed down the long road, she leaned out to feel the night breeze cut against her cheek, bangs blowing in every which direction as she swept them out of her eyes and raced back home.

  十六

 

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