by Karen Guffey
CHAPTER EIGHT
"How does the airplane get in the air?"
They were on the plane waiting for takeoff. Marie was in a window seat, squeezing Rick's hand as she looked out the window.
"The plane goes really fast down the runway until the air lifts it."
"It's so big and has all these people in it. How does it stay in the air without falling?"
"I don't know much about aerodynamics."
"About what?"
"What keeps the plane in the air."
Marie couldn't wait to feel the airplane move. It was hard to believe that it could stay up in the air. She'd seen airplanes before, but she'd never been in one. She didn't even know anyone who had.
The plane began rolling forward! Squeezing Rick's hand harder, Marie listened carefully as the flight attendant explained what to do in emergencies. When she'd finished, Marie pointed to an overhead panel and asked Rick, "Is this where the oxygen masks fall from?"
"I think so."
"Haven't you ever put one on?"
"No. Traveling by plane is really safe, sweetheart. Far fewer people are killed in plane crashes than in car crashes."
She sat back when she felt the airplane pick up speed. She was looking out the window, so she both saw and felt the plane leave the ground. "We're in the air!" she gasped.
"Just wait until we're above the clouds. They look like a bed of cotton."
She was quiet until they were flying through the clouds. "They don't look like cotton. I can't see anything--how can the pilot see where he's going?"
"He has instruments to help him. We'll only be in them for a minute. Then you'll see what I mean."
She did, marveling at the beauty of perfectly clear blue skies above and white powder puffs below. The clouds looked so soft and fluffy that she wished she could bounce on them.
The trip was exciting. The flight attendant brought them peanuts and Coke, and Rick bought them headphones so that they could watch a movie. And then she brought them dinner! It wasn't very good, but Rick said that they could get some pizza as soon as they got to Hollywood.
At the airport they got their luggage and rented a car. Marie looked around eagerly as Rick drove to the hotel, but so far it didn't look much different from 2011 Boston. "Where are the studios we'll be touring?" she asked.
"One's downtown, and the other is to the northwest of the city. Our hotel is right off the highway--we're almost there."
"When will we see the movie studios?"
"One tomorrow, one Tuesday. We'll get some brochures at the hotel and see what else sounds good to you for the rest of the week."
They pulled up to the hotel minutes later. They checked into their rooms, which were side by side, and Rick suggested that Marie unpack while he ordered a pizza.
"I don't feel like unpacking and sitting around. Can't we go out for dinner?"
"Aren't you tired?"
"No! I wish we could do something right away."
"The studios will be closed, but we can go dancing if you like."
"Wonderful!"
Each took a quick shower and changed clothes. Rick would have taken her to a nice restaurant, but she had her heart set on pizza.
"Mmm--this is delicious," she said after a bite of the pepperoni slice.
"Everything will probably taste better in Hollywood." He winked at her.
"Can we eat at the studios?"
"Probably. But remember, sweetheart, it's probably not what you're expecting. It's not all glamour."
"But at least I'll get to see for myself. Thank you, Rick." She reached out to squeeze his hand.
"You're . . . welcome . . ."
He was looking past her, and she turned around with a frown. "What are you looking at?"
"That guy over there--the tall blond one. Do you recognize him?"
She frowned at the blond for a moment and then gasped. "He's on that lawyer show we watch!"
She stared, and Rick smiled at her awe. She didn't turn back around until the actor was gone. Looking at Rick with wide eyes, she said, "You told me we probably wouldn't see any movie stars."
"We were lucky."
"Maybe we'll be lucky again!"
And they were--that very night. They went dancing, and in the middle of the floor was a young actor from one of the newer shows. He was the center of attention, making all sorts of wacky dance moves. Occasionally he'd draw one of the girls from the crowd surrounding him and dance with her for a minute or two. To Marie's astonishment and euphoric delight, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the center of the crowd to dance with him.
"Did you see that? Did you see us?" Marie exclaimed breathlessly when she returned to Rick. "He danced with me! I danced with a movie star!"
"I saw." He smiled, stroking a damp tendril of hair from her face. "Was it fun?"
"It was incredible! I can't believe I danced with him!"
"Come sit down for a minute and have a Coke."
He managed to keep her still for less than five minutes. They danced almost non-stop for the next hour and a half, and then Rick declared he'd fall asleep behind the wheel if they didn't leave. Marie could have gone on, but about five minutes after getting in the car, she was yawning.
Rick opened her hotel room door for her and gave her the key. "I'm not going to have them wake us up. Just come knock on my door whenever you get up."
"OK." She smiled up at him dreamily. "This evening has been like a fairy tale. Even if we left tomorrow, I'd be happy."
"Good." He stroked her cheek with one finger. "That's all I want."
Her heart began pounding when she realized he was going to kiss her goodnight. His lips were light, almost teasing, as they touched hers. When he raised his head, she couldn't look away from him.
Rick smiled at her somewhat dazed expression. "Sleep well, sweetheart."
"Goodnight, Rick." She gave him a quick smile before slipping into her room.
Rick's smile had become a frown by the time he was in his own room. He wasn't sure this trip was such a good idea after all. Sharing her dream was going to make him fall even more deeply in love with her. And when she left, he'd be devastated. But remembering the excitement on her face as she'd danced with the actor, he couldn't regret it.
The next day they went to Universal Studios. "This is set up like an amusement park," Rick told her as he bought their tickets. "So even if it isn't authentic, I think you'll enjoy it."
"I know I will." In reality, she wasn't sure. The term "amusement park" conjured up visions of carousels and ferris wheels. Those were fun in 1927, but she expected more from 2011.
She wasn't disappointed. First they went to the "Water World" show. Marie gasped as some-some . . . motorcycles on water crisscrossed the lake. "How do they do that?"
"Do what?"
"Those motorcycles. How do they go on the water?"
"They're jet skis. They're made for the water."
She watched as the actors climbed towers, rode hand trolleys on cables, jumped from shattered platforms into the water. And when the heroine shot the villain, causing his jacket to catch on fire, Marie screamed. It was so real, and she gripped the edge of her seat as she waited to see what would happen after he fell into the water.
The villain jumped up on the platform to make his bows with the rest of the cast. Marie raised wide eyes to Rick's face as they stood to leave. "Was that man who was on fire hurt?"
"No. He'll do another show in a couple of hours."
"How do they do that?"
"The jacket is made out of some kind of special material."
That was the most amazing stunt she saw that day, but there were dozens of special effects and props that filled her with wonder. They took a tour of the movie lot, and Marie was excited to see the sets of some of the movies Rick had rented for her. The tram they rode crossed a bridge that shook as if it would collapse, and she screamed, clutching Rick's arm. A giant shark swam up
to the tram as it crossed a river, and as they later emerged from a forest, it began raining, and a flood rushed toward them. With so many children on the tram, Marie knew that these "disasters" were just tricks, but she was still glad she could huddle in Rick's arms when the tram seemed to be in danger.
"You're not afraid of heights, are you, sweetheart?" Rick asked as they stood in line to ride the "E.T." ride.
"No. I don't think so. This doesn't go higher than our airplane, does it?"
Rick laughed. "No. But it isn't enclosed. Just close your eyes if you get scared."
But she was fascinated, not scared. The cart made to resemble a bicycle took them through the air above a moonlit village, and she squeezed Rick's hand in delight rather than fear. She enjoyed it so much that they got back in line and rode again.
But as much as she enjoyed the "E.T." ride, it couldn't compare to the "Back to the Future" ride. That was really like flying--even more than in the airplane. It was more like having wings of her own, soaring high and low, below bridges and over mountains. "We really never left the ground?" she asked Rick as they waited to ride it a second time.
"No. The car just jerks us around, and that combined with the effect of the picture makes you feel like you're flying."
"Did you like it?"
"Yeah--it was fun. But the best part is seeing how much you enjoy it." He squeezed her close to his side.
It was nearly 7:00 when they left, and Marie was all in favor of pizza in the room this time. "I don't think I can wait," she told Rick when he hung up the phone after ordering the pizza.
"Do you want me to go get you a candy bar?"
"No. I'm going to go take a shower while we wait."
After her shower she rubbed on some rose-scented lotion. Her skin was hot from her day in the sun and just a little red. She'd put sunscreen on this morning so that she wouldn't get burned. Dropping the bottle onto the bed, she went back to Rick's room calling, "Is the pizza here yet?"
"Not yet," he replied as he emerged from the bathroom, still toweling his hair dry.
Marie stared. He was wearing only a pair of shorts. Drops of water sparkled on his shoulders, and his skin glowed from the recent scrubbing. She swallowed. "I . . . I . . ." Her face grew red as he looked at her expectantly. "I . . . you . . . the sun. Do you want some of my lotion?"
"I brought some." He went to take a bottle from a drawer. "I'm not as red as I was last Saturday."
"Do you-do you want me to-to rub some on you?"
He glanced up, on the verge of asking her why, since it was only his arms, not his back, that needed the lotion. Instead, he silently handed her the bottle.
Marie squeezed some lotion into her hand. Starting at his wrist, she rubbed his arm, working her way up. When she reached the tan line where his sleeve began, her hands glided up to the red spot just below his neck. "You-you must not have put sunscreen here. It's really red."
He gazed at her averted face as she rubbed lotion on his chest. He was sure she could feel the pounding of his heart when her hands strayed from the sunburnt spot. Swallowing, he said hoarsely, "You like touching me, don't you?"
Her eyes met his briefly and then returned to follow the action of her hands. "Yes," she whispered.
Rick's arms slid around her waist, and he bent his head to kiss her. Marie's hands continued to move over his chest as she returned his kiss. His lips were warm and strong, and his kiss made her heart flutter. She didn't feel the shyness she'd felt when they'd kissed before, and she was disappointed when Rick ended it.
"Pizza," Rick muttered, gazing down into her dazed face.
"Hmmm?"
"Pizza's here." He released her to go open the door.
Marie turned away to collect herself as he paid the delivery man. She hadn't even heard the knock. Her face grew scarlet as she thought of the way she'd touched him. And she'd even admitted that she enjoyed it! How could she have acted that way?
Rick set the pizza on the table and picked up some change to go get them some Cokes. He knew Marie would be embarrassed. Women of 1927 weren't supposed to be so forward with a man, even if they weren't, as she was, engaged to another. But her kiss and the way she'd touched him made him think that maybe he could win her love. Maybe he could convince her to stay in 2011 with him.
He returned to the room with the Cokes and opened the box. "Mmm—it smells great." He put a slice on a plate and handed it to her.
"Thank you," she mumbled, not looking at him.
"Marie." He caught her free hand and squeezed it until she looked up at him. "It's OK. We're friends, we like each other--nothing should make us feel uncomfortable with each other, should it?"
She smiled then. "Did they give us napkins?"
They went to bed early that night because they had to be at Paramount at 7:00 the next morning. Marie, fortunately, didn't question the earliness of the hour. The surprise he had for her hinged on the word of a friend of a friend, and he didn't want her to find out about it and then have it fall through.
Traffic was terrible the next morning, but he managed to find the gate he'd been told to go to. The attendant had his name on a list and gave him directions to stage three.
"Why did your name have to be on a list?" Marie asked him.
"That's the only way to get in."
"How did you get your name on the list?"
"I-I called. Here--I think this is it."
He hurried her inside the building and asked the first person he saw for Eric Waite. Fortunately, the man was only a few yards away, talking to a cameraman. He looked up as Rick and Marie approached. "Mr. Waite, Steve Reynolds spoke to you about a--"
"You're Rick Newman, right? I'm great with names." He turned to Marie. "And this must be our little star." He winked at Rick and smiled at Marie. "If I'd known what a knockout you were going to be, I would have tried to find something better. Run along and get your make-up done--it's at the end of that corridor. We start shooting at 8:00."
He turned away before Marie could say a word. Rick took her hand and led her away toward the make-up room.
"Rick, what's going on?" she asked.
"Now don't get too excited--you're just an extra. It's not--"
"I'm going to be in a movie?" she squealed.
"You're going to be an extra. You won't say anything, and it'll only be a couple of minutes. It's really not much, but it's hard to--"
"I'm going to be in a movie!" She turned and threw her arms around him.
She was in a party scene, one of six people that formed a group with the star. She wasn't supposed to do anything but smile and sip her drink, but when the star gave her a smoldering glance during rehearsal, the director decided he wanted to film it. The result was a split-second close-up of her face, and the star kissed her hand. Marie felt as if she were going to burst from excitement.
They were allowed to watch filming until lunch, and then they were given a tour of the rest of the studio. Marie heard obscenities and shouting, and she saw two different actors storm off two different sets in the middle of their scenes. But it was wonderful. The actors and actresses were very attractive people, and many of them were nice to her.
"Today was magic, absolute magic," Marie sighed as they ate steak and salad that evening.
Rick smiled. "You weren't disappointed then?"
"Not in the slightest."
"It was what you expected?"
"No, not really. But it was just as exciting." She smiled, poking at her steak. "When we were filming that scene and the star looked at me, I felt like Clara Bow."
"Who?"
"Clara Bow." She looked up at him. "You know--the `it' girl."
"The what girl?"
She stared at him. "I can't believe you haven't heard of the `it' girl!"
"Is she an actress?"
"She's more than that. You know. She's-she's the `it' girl."
"What does that mean?"
> Her face reddened. "You know. `It.' She's-she's . . . she makes men want . . . think about-about . . ."
He grinned. "I think I understand." He reached out to squeeze her hand. "I've never seen a picture of her or even heard of her, but I'd bet money that she's not as sexy as you." Her blush deepened, and his grin mellowed into a loving smile. He took her hand and pressed his lips into her palm. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world, Marie."
This evening was a wonderful end to a wonderful day. Like the day before, what Rick had enjoyed most was seeing Marie's pleasure. She'd wanted to see everything, experience everything they'd let her try. Everyone had treated her like an eager tourist, little realizing that she was seeing it all from the perspective of someone who'd seen debuts of Hollywood's earliest offerings.
"Would you like to go dancing?" Rick asked as he paid the bill.
"I don't think so. I'm rather tired, and I think I'd just like to relax and think about all that happened today."
"And dream about your debut?" He smiled. "We'll go see the movie as soon as it comes out. And buy the video when it comes out." He was thrilled when she didn't say she'd probably be back in 1927 before then.
She was quiet during the ride home, remembering the scene she'd done. And how she'd peered through a camera. And sat in a director's chair as he walked his sitcom actors through a scene. It hadn't been a page out of a fairy tale like she'd expected, but it had been exciting nevertheless. And a dream-come-true.
"I feel gritty. I think I'm going to jump in the shower," Rick told her when they got back to the hotel.
"Me too." She would have preferred a bath, but she was afraid she'd fall asleep in the tub.
Rick was stretched out on the bed watching TV when she returned to his room. "I'm exhausted," she told him, dropping onto the bed.
"So am I." He took her wrist. "Lie down here with me and watch this `Mad About You' rerun."
His arms went around her when she settled down beside him. She sighed and was instantly asleep.
The last thing Rick remembered was Murray, the dog, drinking out of a toilet. When he opened his eyes again, the news was on. He yawned, wanting to stretch but finding that Marie lay on one arm. He looked down at her, smiling. Her cheeks were golden and rosy, her long, dark lashes like fans against them. Her dark hair fell over his arm and onto the pillow, and he reached up with his free hand to caress it.
Marie stirred, moving closer to Rick. She blinked and found him hovering over her. As she gazed up into his eyes, she felt as if she were in a dream. This was just like one of her fantasies. Except that he was wearing a shirt.
"You fell asleep," he whispered, his face moving closer to hers.
"Yes."
"Me too." His lips brushed over hers. "Your lips are red from the sun."
"Mmm." Her hand slid to the nape of his neck, gently pulling his head closer.
He kissed her again, enjoying the sweet warmth of her lips, the eagerness of her response. He felt her slender fingers stroking his neck, and remembering how she'd run her hands over his chest yesterday evening, he wished he'd taken off his shirt.
Marie sighed into Rick's mouth. This was better than any fantasy. Rick was . . . his kiss . . . Her eyes flew open when she felt the tip of his tongue graze her lips. What . . . Was he trying to put his tongue in her mouth like Davis had? Remembering how awful that had been, she broke away.
Rick buried his face in her neck. Moments later he began kissing and nibbling on her skin.
"Oh!"
Rick raised his head to look at her. "What's wrong?"
"N-nothing. That . . . that felt good."
He chuckled, dropping another kiss on her neck. "I think you'd better go back to your room." He was afraid she'd run if he moved too fast.
"Oh. All right." Somewhat dazed, she went to her room, only to find that she'd left her key in Rick's room. She returned, glancing up at him sheepishly when he opened the door for her. "I forgot my key."
He retrieved it from the dresser and handed it to her. He kissed her lips lightly. "Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Goodnight." She went back to her own room, wishing that she could sleep next to him all night.
They drove down to Tijuana the next day, and Marie was delighted with all the shops and stalls and stands. People would wave things under her nose, and it was hard to say no. But Rick had told her just to walk away unless it was something she really wanted. So she'd grab onto his arm and let him lead her away.
"Do you like silver?" he asked her.
"I love it. Especially bracelets."
She watched in fascination as he talked a merchant down to $8.00 from his asking price of $20.00 for a delicate silver bracelet. “We never do that when we shop in Boston.”
He laughed. “Only when you’re shopping for cars. But in Mexico and a lot of other countries, it’s the custom.”
“Thank you,” she said as he fastened the bracelet on her wrist. "Can I try negotiating for something?"
"Sure. What would you like to buy?"
They wandered around, and what caught her eye was not all the silver, gold, turquoise, and leather that the natives thought an American tourist would want but the colorful things like serapes and bajas--Mexican blankets and pullover jackets.
She found a pink and turquoise baja that she fell in love with. The price was ten dollars, and Marie talked the owner down to six dollars.
"I did it!" she exclaimed, taking her baja from the bag.
"You did a good job."
"This is fun. Why don't we get you one of these?"
After buying Rick a baja, they bought a multi-colored blanket and a leather purse. Marie loved bargaining, but the only other thing she saw that she wanted was a little glass carousel that she managed to get from ten dollars down to five.
"Can't we eat here somewhere, Rick? I'd like to try the food."
"No, you wouldn't," he said as they approached customs. "The water down here is contaminated. Ever heard of Montezuma's Revenge?"
"What?"
"Montezuma's Revenge. The water makes you sick, and you spend a lot of time in the bathroom." He smiled down at her. "We'll get something to eat in San Diego. I'm sure they have some authentic Mexican restaurants."
They had two days left, and Marie chose to spend Thursday wandering around downtown Los Angeles, buying trinkets in the shops and the Farmer's Market on Fairfax and watching glamorous people walk by as she and Rick ate lunch at an outdoor café on Rodeo Drive. But her choice for their last day in California was quite a change from that: she wanted to go to Disneyland. Mickey Mouse hadn't been around in 1927, and she found the whole idea of a fantasy land for children exciting. And she loved Splash Mountain.
"Are you sad to be leaving?" Rick asked that evening as he watched her pack.
"Yes. This has been a dream-come-true, and I'd like to stay in the dream." With a sigh she folded her baja and put it in her suitcase.
He stood, placing his hands on her shoulders from behind. "If we get a chance, we'll come back."
She turned around, gazing up at him anxiously. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I've had a wonderful time, and--"
"Shhh--it's OK." He reached out to caress her hair. "I'm glad you've had such a good time here that you don't want to leave."
"It's been magic, Rick. Thank you for bringing me. And for getting me into a movie. And for doing everything in your power to make this trip special for me."
"You're very welcome." Sliding his arms around her waist, he added, "It's been special for me too."
She knew he was going to kiss her; she'd known it the second she'd felt his arms go around her waist. When his lips touched hers, she clutched at his shirt, but then her hands slid around his waist and up his back. His kiss was sweet, warm, loving, and when his lips left hers, she was disappointed. But his mouth immediately covered hers again. Her fingers dug into his back as the kiss grew m
ore and more intense until at last, breathless, she pulled away. "You make me feel like a princess," she murmured, rubbing her face against his neck.
"Too bad."
"`Too bad'?" She raised her head to look at him in surprise.
"Yeah. I want to make you feel like a queen."
"Oh." Smiling, she laid her head on his shoulder, relishing his tight embrace. He was every bit as much a dream as Hollywood.