Ethan’s exhausted mind was all but asleep. He smiled upon hearing the news but sleep recaptured him moments later.
Chapter 34
Ethan’s Timeline
August 1991
The sun’s rays penetrated the blinds covering the single window in their bedroom. Warm and already muggy, Ethan awoke, vaguely remembering Christa’s kissing him before she left for work. He lazily turned onto his back and faced the ceiling, a position he’d assumed many mornings since arriving at Robbie’s apartment. Getting up was always difficult, it seemed. His head was in the middle of the pillow as his brain ran through everything going on that day. He was often overwhelmed when he first awoke by a myriad of questions that encircled his life. This morning’s list was topped by his actions of the previous day and a half.
It’s over, Ethan, came the incessant voice from the back of his head. Get over it, my friend.
Still numb from the experience, he tried to reassure himself that his actions were justified and that without the money, he’d not survive. But something else kept hounding him. Face it, Eth. There’s always another way. You were curious; the women were gorgeous. Sure, you need the money, but that’s not the only reason. Besides, you’d take the two of them right now. It was hard to fight that truth as he stared down at the tented sheet below his waist.
His stare returned to the ceiling, the cracked, colorless ceiling that needed painting. He had stared at it too many times, searching for answers that rarely came. Where was he going? Was he doing anything right? It sure didn’t seem like it.
The three hundred dollars in the pocket of his jeans wouldn’t last long. Somehow he had to find another source of income. If he was careful, the money would get him through a month, but that was it. He’d be broke again as his history repeated itself.
“Anytime, Ezan,” Sven had said as he handed Ethan his payment. Ethan had remained quiet, picking at the scab on his palm. He’d done his duty, like a stallion on a stud farm, and collected the fee. Exhausted and disgusted, he couldn’t get out fast enough. “You von’t vind anyzing zat vill pay you zis for a daze vork,” Sven had added.
Ethan had turned and glared at Sven in reply. Closing the door, he vowed never to work for Sven Irons again.
Ethan, you have to think of something else, he told himself. His sense of outrage churned his stomach. Somehow, he had to find a way to let it go.
His thoughts again turned to Christa. Wishing she was by his side, he closed his sleep-swollen eyes. He had to tell her. He would explain the situation and pray she’d understand. He couldn’t help imagining the press of her breasts against his chest or touching the smoothness of her thighs; even the sharpness of her nails against his skin. The bed sheets tightened. He opened his eyes, hoping for the miracle of her presence, only to stare at the blank ceiling again.
The room was hot. He rolled onto his side, doubling up the pillows under his head. His eyes lined up with the word he’d written on the wall. Act. Such a simple word. It should be easy. The word resonated inside him. The reminder wouldn’t let him rest. He threw the sheets aside and sat upright. He stared at the word as if his eyes were attached to it by some unseen force. As he stood up, his legs locked in a stretch, his muscles eager to get moving. Turning his torso slightly, his back stiff from the bed, he noticed a paper on the floor. He reached for it, feeling his hamstrings stretch uncomfortably as he did so. Christa had left a note before leaving. It was short: “Call Randy, Love, Christa.” A big heart dotted the i in her name. Randy’s number was at the bottom.
Ethan didn’t recognize the number but wasted no time in getting to the phone. He was alone in the apartment and walked to the kitchen without bothering to put on a pair of underwear. The heat of the day was intensifying. It seemed even warmer outside the bedroom. The cordless was on the kitchen counter. He grabbed it and flopped on the sofa, where he dialed Randy’s number.
“Hello,” Randy answered after the second ring.
“Randy,” Ethan replied. “How you doin’?”
“I’m doing just fine but busy,” Randy answered.
“Great.” Ethan wished he could say the same thing and then he did. “Me too.”
“Sounds like it. Leaving that pretty lady to fend for herself. I don’t know, but I’d be keeping real close to that one.”
“I am, but ya gotta work when work’s working. Christa left me your message. What’s up?”
“Give me a second,” Randy said to background sounds of moving chairs and papers.
Ethan walked to the refrigerator and scrounged some cream cheese and a bagel.
“Okay, I’m back,” Randy announced. “Remember I told you about a guy I met going to Japan, Ben Lui?”
“Yes,” Ethan answered, spreading the cheese on the side of the bagel. He hadn’t bothered to cut it in half. “Why?”
“Well, you may not believe this,” Randy said excitedly, “but I ran into Ben about a week ago. He asked me about my acting friend.”
Ethan stopped spreading the cheese, remembering the card Randy had given him before the bout with food poisoning. “Go on.”
“Well, you need to call him. I don’t really know what’s up, but he’s looking for something. As far as I know, you fit the bill.”
Ethan already was headed to the bedroom for Ben’s card but couldn’t find it. Why didn’t I call Ben after seeing Randy? “Okay, what’s his number?” he asked, taking a pen from his nightstand and the back page of Wiggy’s script. There still was a lot of rustling going on in the background at the other end. Randy must be searching for something. Before the noise stopped, however, he gave Ethan a number. “I owe you one,” Ethan said, after repeating the number back.
“No problem, Ethan. Gotta go. Talk soon.”
“Thanks again.” Ethan hung up and immediately dialed Ben Lui’s number. He hoped Ben was still looking.
“Good afternoon,” answered a soft-spoken woman after the third ring. “Ben Lui’s office. Can you hold?”
“Sure,” replied Ethan as background music began to play in his ear. He detested being put on hold and often just hung up, but that wasn’t his protocol today. As the tune ended and the radio announcer came on, Ethan returned to the kitchen counter to spread more cheese on his bagel. He hoped he wasn’t heading toward another dead end, but after his previous day’s antics, he deserved it.
You better get that shit out of your head, said the voice. You did what you did. It’s done. History.
Elton John started to sing “Daniel” in his ear and got through the first verse before the soft-spoken receptionist interrupted.
“Hello,” she said quickly. Ethan could hear another line buzzing in the background. “How may I help you?”
“Ben Lui, please?” Ethan replied, hesitant to take a bite of his bagel. He didn’t want his mouth full of cheese when Ben Lui came on the line.
“One minute, please.”
He rejoined Elton who was into the chorus. Ethan couldn’t wait, and no sooner filled his mouth with bagel than a quiet man’s voice spoke.
“Ben Lui. How can I help you?”
“Hawwo,” Ethan mumbled into the mouthpiece, before rejecting the contents of his mouth into the sink. He coughed to clear his throat. “Ahem, Mr. Lui?”
The line was quiet at the other end.
“Mr. Lui?” he said, trying to find a verbal foothold. “My name is Ethan Jones.” He paused for a moment to let Ben Lui respond. Still nothing. “I’m a friend of Randy Baseman,” he added, trying to stay upbeat, although a sinking feeling filled his stomach in response to the silence at the other end of the line. “He gave me your number to call regarding a project.”
There was no pause this time. “Ah, Randy!” Mr. Lui exclaimed, his voice louder and more jovial. “Comic book Randy?”
“That’s right,” Ethan replied, his confidence restored for the moment. “I was just tal
king to him.”
“Say hello for me,” Mr. Lui requested.
“I will.”
“So, Ethan, what is this about?”
“Randy told me you were working on a project and looking for an actor.” It sounded strange, hearing himself say it.
“Well, I was, but I’m afraid I’ve filled the role.”
Ethan’s heart dropped. Randy sounded so optimistic about this guy. “Oh,” was the only thing he could think to say, his sins of yesterday coming for retribution. If he hadn’t done the fuck movie, he would have been home when Randy called. This was punishment for his act of fornication.
“But you’re a friend of Randy Baseman’s,” Ben Lui said suddenly, his voice rising, enunciating each word with precision.
“Yes, I am,” Ethan responded, not knowing whether it was a question or a statement. “Would you reconsider? Randy told me you were still looking.”
Ben’s next words changed everything. “Listen, come down and we’ll talk. A friend of Randy’s deserves at least that. Can you get here later today?” Ethan didn’t say a word. He couldn’t. It was a miracle. His heart was pumping so fast he couldn’t think. “How about six o’clock? Meet me here.”
Ethan agreed quickly. He didn’t want to reveal his desperation or oversell himself. He had what he wanted. He had to shut up and get off the phone.
Ben proceeded to give him his office address and then hung up.
Another step forward after two steps back.
Chapter 35
Ethan’s Timeline
August 1991
It didn’t take Ethan long to get his things together after his phone conversation with Ben Lui. Another chance was all he cared about.
By two o’clock, he was ready to go and still had a couple of hours to kill. To pass the time, he headed out and picked up a paper and some fruit from the small grocery around the corner. When he returned, he paged through the classifieds and came upon a small ad with the name J. Scott at the bottom. His mind struggled to recall why that name seemed familiar, and then he remembered the little man who sent him to Paramount. It had been some time since meeting Jamie. He’d never thanked him for the contact. He must have known he’d come back to work for Sven.
Ethan decided to call the number in the ad. After two rings, he got Jamie’s voice mail. He left a message and his number. After leaving the message for Jamie, he realized he hadn’t talked to Cushman in a while either. Before putting down the phone, he dialed Steve’s number. Cushman never answered his phone, so Ethan didn’t expect it to be any different this time. He was ready to leave a message when Steve came on the line.
“Cushman here,” he answered, quick and ready.
“Hey, Steve, Ethan here.”
“Ethan, how you doing?”
“Is that really you?” Ethan joked, “or am I talking to advanced technology.”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Steve replied. Ethan could hear what sounded like shutters banging in the background. “Every once in a while I decide to answer my phone when important clients call. What’s up?”
“I was going to ask you the same question. Haven’t heard from you in a while. With you being my agent and all, I thought there might be … you know … something going on.”
“Well …” Steve hesitated, and Ethan heard more rustling in the background. “There are two commercials I’ve got a line on, filming in two weeks. They’re both speaking parts. They want someone with a good tan. Are you still as white as Casper?”
“Yep, and not any closer to a beach bodybuilder either. I don’t want any more commercials, Steve. I’m not your most popular client, but I need work.”
“Listen, Ethan, I know we can do better.”
Ethan hadn’t expected to get angry, but he could feel his rage building. He liked Steve, but this was business and his life. If he’d had more work, he wouldn’t have had to succumb to the skin flick. “Your fucking right we can do better, Steve,” Ethan replied, his emotions surprising him. “I just spent yesterday—nearly four hours—fucking two bimbos to put bread on my table, and you’re telling me we can do better. Fuck, we can do better, Steve. You better believe it. I’m going to do better.” In ten seconds, Ethan realized he’d told Steve everything he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, to the point of wanting to retract what he’d said. There was no going back now. “I want to work with you, Steve, but you have to play me. I’m tired of sitting on the bench.” The background banging at Steve’s end stopped. Maybe he was listening. Ethan went on. “Steve, whether you believe it or not, I’m going to make it. I got nothing to show right now, but mark my words. I will have major roles in feature films. I will be somebody’s biggest client. But I need baby steps right now. You got to show me some. You got to believe in me.”
Steve weighed in. “Ethan, I believe you!” For the first time, Ethan heard Steve commit himself. “Things take time, but that time is over. I’ll get you work. Work every night. I guarantee it. If I don’t, fire me, but I’ll get you your chance.”
“Okay. Here’s the deal,” Ethan continued, surprised Steve didn’t ask him more about his antics the night before. Maybe Steve was hearing what was more important. “Two weeks. You follow through with what you just said. We’re a team. Otherwise, two weeks and we’re done.”
“You’re on, my man!” Steve exclaimed, his voice carrying both excitement and an urgency Ethan hadn’t noticed before. It was almost as if Steve had been lying in wait for some kind of start-me-up, and Ethan had hit the mark.
Ethan hung up. The negotiation with Steve made him hungry. He had a sudden craving for a submarine sandwich, and the Gonzales brothers came to mind. He hadn’t been there since leaving his old apartment. With the same spontaneity as his call to Cushman, he decided to head across town to his old haunt for a Gonzo special.
Considering the distance and the three hundred dollars he had in his pocket, he decided a taxi was in order. His appointment with Ben Lui was at six, so he had more than enough time. The taxi was waiting out front by the time he got downstairs. He gave the driver his old apartment address and was off. A short while later, he recognized some of the first places he’d visited when arriving in sunny California. The taxi came to a stop outside his previous place of residence. He paid the cabbie and stepped out.
It had been a while since he’d been in the area. There was a comfort in seeing the old neighborhood, but it ended abruptly when he remembered the events of that early morning attack. He turned and walked in the direction of the sub shop.
At the corner of Bank and Somerset, he saw that something had changed. The Gonzo’s Sub Shop sign was gone. Only remnants of the place remained. Ethan continued down Bank Street, his eyes fixed on the spot across from where the sub shop had existed. The windows were covered with old newspaper, and a large sign was in the window—“For Rent or Lease”—with a number to call. He stood on the edge of the curb, staring at the sign, disappointed that the boys had closed. They’d had such big dreams. “Gonzo franchises across the almighty US of A,” Jesse had said. Things must have gone bad. Maybe Pedro had never recovered. It troubled Ethan that he’d left that part of his life behind. His stomach rumbled its emptiness, with a Gonzo sub no longer one of his choices. Ethan decided to cross the street anyway and have a closer look at what was left. He’d grab a burger next door.
Approaching the vacant storefront, he found the newspapers blocked everything from passersby. He wondered what had happened and could almost hear Jesse and Pedro’s jibing him on the actors he knew. “Say hello to Bobby D. for me,” Pedro would shout across the store. “Tell him he needs to pass on the Italian sausage once in a while.” Pedro seemed so harmless. It saddened Ethan that he’d not said good-bye to either brother.
He decided to pass on the burger and walk farther down the street to get a coffee and sandwich.
Coffee-to-Go was a not quite a block away. It was a small sh
op with a few tables and a standup counter at the window. Ethan occasionally had stopped to pick up coffee on his way to work. A lot had changed since then, but the shop hadn’t. Even the same big-boned waitress dressed in white was pouring coffee. It seemed as if the same coffee stains graced her white apron.
The shop was cool relief from the heat of the afternoon.
“What’ll it be, sir?” she asked in a sharp voice. There was no indication that she recognized him.
“Small regular coffee and tuna fish on rye.”
“Toasted?”
“Sure,” Ethan replied, pulling a twenty from his pocket. It was great to have some money. He refused to let its source enter his head.
“Three twenty-five,” the woman said, pouring his coffee into a small paper cup.
He handed her the twenty and collected his change. At the same time, he turned as a tall, slender man entered the shop. Ethan recognized the oiled, curly black hair but couldn’t put the hair and face together. The man was wearing a wrinkled black business suit and dark sunglasses. As he approached the counter, he pushed his shades to his forehead and revealed Jesse Gonzales’s tired, bloodshot eyes. There was no indication that he recognized Ethan at all, but Ethan wasn’t about to let the man go unnoticed.
“So how’s Al Pacino, my friend?” Ethan asked, catching Jesse’s eye. Jesse looked back at him. Ethan watched as recognition came into the man’s eyes. The Gonzales brother he was looking at had lost a lot of weight since their last meeting. His face was gaunt, his eye sockets were gray and sunken, and his cheeks were thin and drawn.
Ethan stuck out his hand, only to have it ignored as Jesse stepped forward and gave him a giant bear hug. Ethan hugged back, shocked by the transformation in the once big, strapping man. He hoped his amazement wasn’t too evident.
“It’s been a while,” Ethan said after Jesse released him. “It’s been months since I’ve been back here.”
The Actor Page 22
