The Silver Screen

by The Silver Screen (retail) (epub)

  A knock on his door jolted Hawk out of his thoughts. “Come in,” he called out as Jack entered the small room.

  “Hi, Hawk. Ready to go?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah. Let me get my backpack.”

  They fell in step as they crossed the hotel lobby heading out the front door of the hotel. The heat hit Hawk right away. It was a clear, hot, windy day. Great for snaps. They stood a few minutes discussing camera angles regarding the hotel entrance. He added they wanted some long shots of Wilshire Boulevard to include current shops, vintage cars for the hotel’s history.

  “No problem,” Hawk said as he made a few mental notes.

  They moved then to the right side of the building. Pausing, they looked up when a woman’s upset voice cut into their conversation. Both Jack and Hawk paused turning in the direction of the sound. They observed two women walking along the sidewalk towards them. The tall woman appeared very animated, trying to console the shorter woman who was clearly distraught. Hawk lifted his sunglasses squinting. He paused. Jack noticed this and asked, “Do you know them?”

  “I think so. Not sure,” he said as he put his sunglasses back on and walked towards the women leaving Jack where he stood.

  Hawk approached them quickly and discovered it was Mabel Carson, the lady who had helped him when he had landed in 1939 in her backyard. He frowned, Why was she crying?

  “Mabel,” Hawk said as he stopped in front of her.

  Astonished, Mabel looked up and said, “Hawk, is that you? Oh my goodness.”

  “Are you all right?” He asked. “Did something happen to you?” Concern rang in his voice.

  Her friend, the tall woman with red hair cut in. “No. Nothing happened, except this is her second time to see the movie Dark Victory. And she gets more upset each time. There is no consoling her.”

  Mabel gasped, “Well, it’s just such a sad ending. I can’t imagine George Brent without Bette Davis.” Mabel finished, her eyes welling up once again.

  By this time, Jack had walked up beside Hawk and said, “Everything okay here?”

  “Oh my goodness,” Mabel exclaimed. To see Jack Baldwin standing in front of her, she quickly dabbed her moist eyes with a handkerchief. “Mr. Baldwin.”

  Jack smiled. “Have we met?”

  “Oh, heavens no. But I know you from the Society Pages.”

  Hawk had to smile. That was Mabel through and through.

  “Jack, this is Mabel Carson, the nice lady who took care of me when I arrived.”

  “Yes, of course. I remember you talking to me about her.”

  Mabel’s cheeks turned pink in a soft blush that such a famous person would know her. Suddenly she said, “Oh, heavens. Where are my manners?” As she introduced her friend, Thelma Mason.

  Hawk reached out to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you, Thelma. Mabel mentioned you when we met.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” Jack nodded to her.

  Thelma was grinning from ear to ear. She was thinking she couldn’t wait to tell her bridge group that she met the famous and so handsome Jack Baldwin.

  “Hawk,” Mabel said, “You look rested and all cleaned up.”

  “Thank you. I’m just finishing up some work for Mr. Baldwin before we leave for the east coast.”

  “It seems you just got here,” she remarked sadly. “But you photographers have to go where the stories are I’m sure.”

  Hawk nodded. “Say, how about a group photo before we go back to work?”

  Both Thelma and Mabel absolutely glowed at the suggestion. “Oh, what a marvelous idea.”

  After a few photos were taken, Hawk let them know copies for each of them would be waiting at the front desk of the hotel at the Beverly Wilshire in two days. To say that they were thrilled was a complete understatement.

  Just as Hawk gathered his backpack, he turned saying to Mabel, “It was great to see you, Mabel.” He paused for effect. “Don’t be too upset now about George Brent and Bette Davis. Something tells me they’ll be just fine.”

  She nodded, realizing she had forgotten about the movie with all the recent excitement. “Thank you, Hawk. Please take care of yourself. And Mr. Baldwin, it was so nice to meet you.” She blushed again.

  “The pleasure was mine,” he smiled.

  As Hawk and Jack turned to leave, Hawk said, “Well, you certainly made their day, Mr. Society Pages.”

  Jack laughed. “Part of the job. What can I say?”

  “Yeah, right.” Hawk laughed as they made their way back to the entrance of the Beverly Wilshire Hotel.

  * * *

  Two notes were waiting for Kate at the front desk when she picked up her room key. Jack’s scrawl she recognized, the other she didn’t. It turned out to be a note from Tilly. She invited her to a girl’s lunch at the polo lounge on Saturday. She shared that she and Archie would be returning to London, England the following week. Kate’s first reaction was sadness. They had become such good friends. She would miss her. But a deeper concern was World War II was brewing. She knew her history, very aware London sustained major hits. Would they be all right? Would they survive at all? Her heart was heavy with these unanswered questions. Kate reflected though, she had been in 1939 barely two weeks. It felt like a lifetime. She knew she would never be the same whether she remained in 1939 or returned home to 1999.

  Waiting for the elevator, she opened Jack’s note. He wrote he had slept on it, chewed on it and decided the only way to make a final decision was to meet with Fred Raymond. Tomorrow, 11:00 A.M. The elevator opened. She entered and it closed. As it pushed up to the top floor Kate smiled reading Jack’s words. He was right, of course. A decision this momentous would need Mr. Raymond’s input. However, facing his authoritative personality made her nervous.

  The next morning she arrived at Fred Raymond’s office at 11:00 A.M. sharp. Mildred nodded and smiled, welcoming Kate as she entered the reception area. She looked around. Jack hadn’t arrived yet. But as she moved to sit and wait for Jack, a man arrived suddenly, quickly, brushing past her. He handed a large manila envelope to Mildred. Before Kate could think, she instantly recognized Hawk. “You. What are you doing here?” She demanded.

  Before Hawk could answer, she added, “I know you. You chased me out the front door of the hotel. You were at Sonja Henie’s, and-” she added for effect in a louder tone, “. . . I saw you before. Before,” she repeated.

  Just then, Jack walked in the door. “Hey, let’s take it down an octave. What’s going on, Kate?”

  Kate looked at Jack then Hawk. “What is he doing here?” She pointed at Hawk.

  Hawk held up a hand to fend off any further verbal attacks. “I’m really sorry, Kate, but there is a good explanation.”

  Jack cut in. “He works for us now until we close the office.”

  “Really?” Kate said, thinking, Like I believe that. “But-” She paused, searching for the right words. “I know him. I know him from before.” She gave Jack a meaningful look. He knew exactly what she meant. She had seen him in 1999. But more concerning was he hadn’t seen her so riled up since she arrived in 1939.

  “Well, let’s calm down here.” Mildred raised her eyebrows, and, to Jack, it seemed they nearly touched the ceiling. “We can talk about all this when . . .”

  But before Jack could finish speaking, Fred Raymond suddenly opened the door to his office, an aggravated expression stamped on his face. “What’s going on out here?”

  No one spoke; that’s when Mildred saved the day. “It’s nothing. Just a little misunderstanding, sir.”

  Fred Raymond stood a moment longer, studying them all. As if settling something in his mind, he said in a no nonsense voice, “Jack, Kate, it’s time for our meeting.”

  Kate and Jack moved quickly, walking into his office to sit down. Hawk thanked Mildred and made his own quick exit. Fred Raymond sat down across from the
m. “So what is all this about?”

  Neither of them spoke immediately when he added, “I’m waiting.”

  Jack spoke first. “We wanted to talk to you about something we both have been thinking about.”

  Kate, despite her nervous thoughts, turned to look at Jack nodding in encouragement.

  “We have been thinking of staying on in 1939. We wanted to ask if that was a possibility.”

  The silence that followed Jack’s question was deafening. Then Fred Raymond spoke in a tone of controlled anger. “What in the world has gotten into you two? This is the craziest idea.” He paused momentarily as his face grew flushed. “Do either one of you have any idea what it would take to transplant you from one time period to another? Believe me, the list is endless.” Then his eyes narrowed as he looked directly at Kate. “This is not about your mother or father, for that matter, is it young lady?”

  Kate shook her head. “No, Mr. Raymond. Really. I wasn’t even thinking of that.”

  “Personally, I don’t think either one of you are thinking or looking at the reality of this situation. You two better rethink this cockamamie idea.” He was clearly distressed and reached to light a cigarette, inhaling deeply.

  Jack took the break in his tirade to speak. “I know this sounds crazy. I promise you we will talk it over and . . .”

  Before Jack could explain further, Fred Raymond interrupted him. “You have two days. After that, it’s a flat no. Honestly.” He added. “I couldn’t recommend it. I think you both are overly idealistic to think you could make it work.”

  Kate, who had butterflies in her stomach through the entire exchange, was relieved to hear Mildred’s voice on the intercom. “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but Margaret Mitchell is on the phone. She refuses to leave a message and insists on remaining on the line until you take her call.”

  “Very well. Tell her I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Kate’s eyes grew large, curious about the mention of Margaret Mitchell. She looked at Jack who smiled slightly, revealing nothing. Jack stood and shook Raymond’s hand. “Well, we’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for taking the time to talk to us.”

  Fred Raymond nodded. “Remember, two days.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Raymond,” Kate said as they both walked quickly out of the office. The last thing they heard was his deep baritone voice in a tone of polished politeness. “Miss

  Mitchell, so good to hear from you.” Then the door closed to his office.

  “So I have about 40 questions,” Kate said, as the waitress left to fill their food order. Jack had suggested lunch in the hotel cafe.

  “I’m sure you do,” Jack replied as the waitress quickly returned with their ice teas. When she left, Jack added, “Start anywhere you like, but keep in mind there are still things I can’t discuss until the show is over, as they say.”

  Kate gave Jack an intent look. “Okay. So when it’s all over you tell all.”

  “Right.” Jack nodded as he reached to sip his ice tea.

  “Let’s start with this Hawk character. Who is he and what is he really doing here?”

  Jack launched into a very short version of what had transpired. When he mentioned Kate’s friend, Laura Cane, Kate gasped in surprise. “What are you talking about? Laura couldn’t be involved in all this.”

  “No, but she uses Hawk as a PR photographer for her shop. When you went missing she was very concerned and reached out to him for help.”

  “She would be of course. I’m sure by now she has me on a missing persons list on a milk carton.”

  “Well, there were several people left behind wondering. Not only Laura, but Hawk’s friend Tango.”

  “Where do they get these names?”

  Jack chuckled, “Press. What can I say? So” Jack continued, “in the end, he fell through the Silver Screen. He became friends with a local photographer Jimmy Smith.”

  “Right. He was at Sonja Henie’s party.”

  “Yes. But you ID’d him, helping us to get him in the end. He’s not such a bad guy. Just snooping around in all the wrong places.”

  “No kidding,” Kate remarked. “So he goes back when everything is closed out here?”

  “Yeah. That’s about it.”

  The cheeseburgers arrived. Eating her cheeseburger Kate mused. Her mind was still going 90 miles an hour when she said, “So what’s the story with Margaret Mitchell? Gone with the Wind was her big thing. It premiers in December in ‘39.”

  “Well . . .” Jack began slowly. “I can’t really go into that at the moment. Sorry.”

  Kate tilted her head, looking at Jack thinking, What in the world is going on? Instead she said, “Okay. I don’t like it, but I’ll wait.”

  They ate in silence for a few moments when Kate put down her cheeseburger and said, “So I think you were right about Mr. Raymond nearly having a heart attack when we talked with him.”

  “He doesn’t like sudden changes, things thrown at him. He works hard to keep things sure and steady.”

  “I get that. And in all fairness, it’s certainly not a small request.”

  Jack agreed as he took another bite of his cheeseburger.

  “I just don’t know. I’m really tempted, but after talking with Mr. Raymond more concerns are growing. You know, it’s funny, but I never thought of my mom or Errol Flynn when I was daydreaming about staying in ‘39. It was more

  quality of life and this feeling life is less intense than in our time.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Jack said.

  “What about you? Any pros or cons?” Kate asked.

  “Yeah. A few. I’ve made some great friends here. It would be hard to never see them again. Of course, no one knows the truth. They think I go back east and work from time to time.”

  Kate reflected on her friendship with Tilly, understanding what Jack meant. “World War II is coming. I read every day what’s in the newspapers. So unsettling for everyone,” Kate remarked.

  “Yes, especially as we know the outcome. How it will completely change the world.”

  “I think as we rolled into the crazy ‘60s, the last vestiges of this energy are pretty much gone.”

  The waitress came and removed their plates, asking if they wanted desert. They decided on apple pie a la mode.

  “Maybe we are too sentimental. After all, progress is important. I wonder what will be happening by 2020. Maybe we will have flying cars,” Kate offered.

  Jack chuckled. “Hard to say, but my bet is on the tech world. I’m sure it will explode, bringing both wonderful ideas and gadgets, but equal to that treachery with the tech thieves.”

  “I can see that.” Kate paused and added, “It’s not an easy decision, but we have a few days. By the way, I’m having lunch with Tilly Saturday at the Polo Lounge. She said they are leaving.”

  “Yes. Both of them will be returning to London, and as you know, not at a good time.”

  “What do they do over there?”

  “They work for the British Government.”

  “Makes sense,” Kate said.

  The pie a la mode arrived then, which consumed both their attentions, leaving them to forget for a few minutes that only two days remained to make a life changing choice.

  CHAPTER XVII

  Margaret Mitchell hung up the phone a bit annoyed with Fred Raymond. She was wrapping up her stay in San Francisco and wanted to confirm a date to meet. Mildred had been very accommodating; however, he never kept her waiting. It just didn’t sit right. He was polite as they discussed a day to meet. She preferred Tuesday, but he said Monday afternoon was the best he could do. She agreed reluctantly. She would be in Los Angeles barely a week when she would travel back to Atlanta to begin fittings for her gown for the premier in December of Gone with the Wind. She reflected that all of Atlanta’s seamstresses would
undoubtedly get little rest until the premier was over. Margaret had decided to stay with friends to avoid other celebrities and the press on her current trip to Los Angeles. She would miss the wonderful Beverly Hills Hotel bungalows, which she had enjoyed on previous trips to the west coast. But she was convinced it was the best for now.

  Seated at the desk in her hotel room in San Francisco, she looked up and out the window. She observed the fog was coming in early over the Golden Gate Bridge. It began to conceal the red bridge. Oddly, she wondered if it was a sign. She considered herself intuitive and had come to trust her hunches over the years. However, as she watched the puffy white fingers of fog cover parts of the bridge she wondered if something wasn’t being hidden from her. She frowned. What an odd idea. She shook her head as if to dismiss such a silly notion. But as she stood to go and dress for the evening, her gaze lingered a few more moments on the incoming fog before she turned to dress for dinner.

  * * *

  Kate and Tilly arrived at the Beverly Hills Hotel for their girl’s lunch at the Polo Lounge. It was just about 12:30. Kate followed Tilly through the entrance. She smiled to herself remembering good times with her mother. All good memories.

  Tilly cut into her thoughts when she said, “This is such a charming hotel. The Polo Lounge is great fun. You never know who will be there.”

  Kate nodded in agreement. Quickly seated they reviewed the menu, ordered their meal and decided on two daiquiris for fun. Never one to mince her words, Tilly came right to the point. “Darling, you look a bit sad today. Are you and Jack still not getting along?”

  “No,” Kate replied. “That is not the issue.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that. You know . . .” she emphasized, “He really is a good catch.”

  It amused Kate to hear that turn of phrase. Endearing, but outmoded in her time. “We are at least good friends now.”