The Ayatollah's Money
Page 34
Chapter 34 – Roger’s Mission
Roger ate his pasta with one eye on his plate and the other on the decanter, which sat on the kitchen counter rather than on the table in front of him. Gwen thought he was pathetic, like a meth addict standing in front of a dealer, ten bucks short for his needed fix. She did feel some sympathy because she enjoyed wine with lunch almost as much as he did; but still, he was pathetic. She told him the pasta was great without the wine, which made him feel a little better.
They cleaned up, grabbed the dog, and walked the mile to The Hall, where they found Laleh and Shimmey deep in conversation on the stage. Roger said, “I thought you were going back home to try to write something.”
“I did. Skipped lunch and wrote a chapter. No problem. I’m back on track. Then she called, asked me to come down here, she had something to talk about.”
“And?”
“And I’m a second class citizen, like you said. Mush minded, and thankful for it.”
The dog telepathized to Roger, “Good man. In the long run it’s in his best interest. The other way is like trying swim upstream against the Mississippi, and that’ll drown your ass.” Roger nodded assent, which wasn’t lost on Gwen, who always knew what everyone around her, including the dog, was thinking and feeling.
They pulled up the rolling chairs and sat down, with the dog leaving to explore all corners of the building, checking for Hollywood spies trying to sneak a peek at what he sensed was going to be an important discussion about the movie. Anything to do with Clooney was gold to those in the know. Very gently Roger, Gwen, and Shim turned and looked at Laleh. They didn’t want to appear demanding or intimidating, but the three of them knew it was time for Laleh to come forward with the central concept of the movie. She had done well so far, first deciding the movie would be filmed entirely inside The Hall, and then, with a lot of balls, telling them she wanted Clooney and Soderberg. So she was thinking big. Lastly she had been very forthright in asking Gwen and Roger for help, and basing that request on what she knew about their recent ballet and rock opera productions. Now it was time for the central concept, and they hoped she would come through.
Roger wasn’t the only one who wished he was drinking wine in the middle of the day. So was she. She got out of her chair, paced around the stage once, called the dog, who came running and offered her his spiritual support (using that term loosely, him being an atheist, like his masters), and then sat down again. She looked at Roger and said, “You bring any wine?”
He made the hand motion saying nada, and jerked his head towards his wife, indicating she was the party pooper, and he was just a typical second class male at the mercy of a good looking and sexy woman. Resigned, she got on with it. “Ok, I know it’s time I tell you what the movie’s about. You said you’d help me, and what I’ve asked for so far is huge. Really huge. A superstar actor and a superstar director, who’s just retired from directing movies, no less. I’ve got no contacts to make this happen, no juice whatsoever. Maybe you do.” She paused and looked at the Junes, with Gwen looking back neutrally and Roger looking back encouragingly, even though he sensed it was him she was asking to do the heavy lifting, and he had no idea how to get Clooney on board. She went on, “I also proposed that the movie be filmed here, in one little building, which is odd to say the least. Maybe that will make it harder and maybe that will make it easier, I don’t know, but like I said before, that’s the director’s problem.” She really needed a drink. Was she talking nonsense? Were the Junes going to throw her out of The Hall and out of their house? Was Shim going to go back to his monastic novel writing, living life vicariously through his fictional characters, telling her she was a crazy Persian chick? Was the dog going to refuse to go walking with her? She gathered herself and said, “The only thing I bring to the table is money. I have lots of money, and nothing better to spend it on. That’s something.” She stood up, walked once around the chairs, and said, “Here’s the idea. A woman in a Middle Eastern country is pissed at everybody in and everything about her culture. She gets into the computer banking system of her country, steals a ton of money from important people, leaves her country, meets a western guy, and falls in love. The guy is Clooney, of course. They don’t know what to do with each other because they are from different cultures, but they have the hots for each other, and have some fun together, and start to trust each other and learn about each other, and things are good.” Laleh felt better now that the ideas were coming out; ideas that had been percolating inside her for two weeks. “Then....then....the bad guys show up. Every movie has to have conflict in it, right?” Shim didn’t know anything about movies, but Roger and Gwen nodded yes. “Just like novels have to have conflict in them, right?” And now she looked at Shim, who thought, ‘they do?’ She said, “The bad guys show up, sent by the important people she stole the money from, and they want the money back and her dead. Simple story, been told a hundred times. George, of course, protects her. But, the bad guys are from the Middle East, and he’s from the west, and so it’s not only a revenge thing for stealing the money, but also a clash of cultures, on a micro level. Not on the international level of politics, which is what we hear about in the news every other day, but on the level of a few people hidden down in the weeds. A few good people and a few bad people. The director makes all this happen, here in The Hall. I have no idea how, but that my idea.”
She dropped her arms, with which she had been gesticulating, to her sides, and collapsed in her chair, and looked at the dog for moral support, who thought, ‘this chick has imagination, rock on honey.’
It took Gwen all of twenty micro seconds to process what Laleh had said, and Roger wasn’t far behind her, and they looked at each other and smiled, and then smiled at Shim, who unfortunately wasn’t as swift at processing the situation, him being a writer, and also somewhat distracted by what Laleh had said about all novels needing to have conflict in them, that being a new concept to him, which maybe explained the lukewarm sales of his previous books. Conflict?
Gwen got up, crossed the circle to Laleh, kissed her on the lips, Gwen not being shy, twirled around, and faced her husband. She said, “You did it before, twice, and you can do it again. Get Clooney for the movie, and when he’s on-board, tell him to get Soderberg. Ok, dear?”
“And if I can’t?”
“You and the dog’ll be sharing a different bedroom.”
Laleh thought, “I gotta remember that one.” She had no idea how her life was about to emulate her art.