Simon's Mansion

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by William Poe


  “Thanks for the information, Twiggy. I miss you. And I miss the Spotlight.”

  “Take care of yourself, sweetcakes. I’ll call if there’s news.”

  A thorn stuck in Simon’s heart as he raced through the briar patch of possibilities. What was going on?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  During his most recent telephone call with Wally Freeze, Simon had informed Wally that money had been wired to his account following the completion of a deal for Bel Air Babes. Simon tried again to convince Wally that he could successfully license new videos, but Wally repeated that new products were under contract with another distributor, and he remained unwilling to reveal the name.

  Wally represented Simon’s best hope for reestablishing his business. Even producers whose films he had not previously held in his catalog knew he had failed to appear at the all-important MIFED event in Milan and would never consider working with him. With the small number of potential markets remaining for the videos listed on the original contract with Wally, Simon’s current business wasn’t sustainable. Wally, despite everything, felt sympathy for Simon. Cocaine had overtaken the lives of many people during the 1980s, and Wally had not been untouched.

  Since they’d reconnected, Wally expected Simon to contact him on a private phone to avoid contact with his office, which Simon respected, though Wally never gave a reason. Given the message from Don and the fact that Wally wasn’t answering his personal number, Simon violated the agreement, which had always seemed unnecessary; after all, Simon had known Wally’s office manager, Clarice, when she was Nicolò’s secretary. Nicolò had refused to give Clarice a letter of reference when she resigned after bringing attention to the fact that during contract negotiations, Nicolò had included a film to which he didn’t own the rights. Simon had recommended Clarice to Wally.

  “Hello, Clarice,” Simon greeted upon hearing her melodic voice.

  “Simon?”

  “It is.”

  “I’ve meant to contact you since, well, forever. Thank you so much for being my reference. Wally hired me right after I interviewed, then peppered me with questions about our experience working for Nicolò.”

  “And what times they were, huh? Moe? Remember him?”

  “It seems like such a long time ago. Moe didn’t last long after you left. Nicolò should have believed it when you explained how he was embezzling, not to mention his problem with alcohol.”

  “Nicolò knew, he just didn’t care, not as long as Moe doctored the books to cut more taxes than he stole. I saw Moe on skid row, down by the Jesus Saves Mission, after I started my own company. It was only a few months after he attacked me in Nicolò’s office.”

  Clarice bellowed a hearty laugh that brought back fond memories of joking around when they’d worked together. Clarice possessed a marvelous sense of humor.

  “I wondered what became of Moe. It’s sad, what you say, though.”

  “He was teetering on the edge of sane and dangerous. I mean, when he attacked me with the telephone from my own desk, he could have killed me.”

  “Oh, don’t I know it. What an awful thing. Nicolò and I never spoke about that incident after you quit. I sure can’t blame you for leaving.”

  “You’re aware that I still represent Wally’s videos, right?”

  “Oh sure. Wally mentions it when you call him with news. Wally told me you aren’t really in the business anymore. You were such a good salesman, Simon. Nicolò tried to say bad things about you, but it backfired. His clients told him they’d rather deal with you.”

  “Nicolò was a crook, and everyone knew it.”

  “Well, Wally is a nice guy, and fair.”

  “Have you heard what happened?”

  “I wasn’t going to bring it up.”

  “It’s unfair that I judge Moe, you know. My problems ended up being as bad. Worse, really.”

  “Wally never mentions it, but I heard some things.”

  “When I didn’t show up at the last MIFED, Wally came to the house and nearly beat the door down looking for me. The truth is, I was too stoned on cocaine to catch the plane to Milan.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Wally didn’t believe the cover story that I was too sick to travel.”

  “He is clever, and he’s been around. It’s funny hearing Wally talk to people. His voice changes if he’s speaking to a female model whom he wants to be in a new video. When talking to the video crew, he’s all business. I had to put my feminist views on hold when I started here. Wally isn’t sexist on a personal level, but he has no qualms about exploiting tits and ass—God, am I even saying that? The need for a job compromises a person, doesn’t it?”

  “You know it, my friend. I wish Wally would allow me to market his new products. Then I might not have to leave the business. But I can’t hold it against him, not given how badly I screwed up.”

  “Chanteuse Film Distributors has the contract on his new videos,” Clarice said, then abruptly changed the subject. “Where are you these days, Simon? Wally only said that you moved away.”

  “Let’s just say I’m far from Hollywood. I’m back in college and hope to start a career as an artist when I graduate. At least that’s the dream. It would be nice to repair some of my business contacts and keep marketing video rights.”

  “I remember the paintings you hung in Nicolò’s office,” Clarice said, hoping to avoid more discussion of Wally.

  “There just aren’t many more contracts to be made on the list on my contract with Wally.”

  “There’s another call coming in,” Clarice interrupted. “I have to go.”

  “Before you hang up, have you heard anything about Charlotte, the woman who used to work for me?”

  “It’s probably best if you talk to Wally. I need to take the other call.”

  After Clarice hung up the phone, Simon kept the receiver pressed to his ear, pondering her last statement: “Best you talk to Wally.”

  Clarice knew something but was afraid to say. Could Wally and Charlotte be in contact—or in cahoots?

  More unknowns to disturb Simon’s troubled nights.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Was Thad in love with Felipe? Or had he fallen for one of the stars whose erotic sex scenes he watched while creating voice-overs? Simon imagined Thad, guilt ridden, afraid to contact him. Had their relationship always been one of convenience? Simon began to doubt everything he thought to be true about their relationship.

  What had happened between the time Thad left the voice mail reporting that Emilio had stayed behind with Felipe when the others returned to Spain, and the appearance at the Spotlight? Who was the rough character, the limo driver? Emilio had once mentioned that his driver doubled as a bodyguard, and Simon had wondered why he needed a bodyguard, not yet aware of the company’s shady dealings.

  Simon began taking the hallway phone into his room, stretching the cord to its limit and placing it on a chair halfway between the door and the bed, even though, in the mansion, silent as a mausoleum, he would hear the phone from any room. Only once did Simon receive a call during the night, in a moment when the moonlight streaming through the wisteria-burdened trellis provided just enough light for Simon to find the phone.

  “It’s only me,” Dean said, anticipating Simon’s disappointment.

  “Your friendly voice is always welcome. You know that.”

  “I do, but it’s nice to hear you say it. I’ve been worrying that the conversation the other night with my friend Allie might have put you off. I can’t believe we got so deep into theology—I rarely bring up Kierkegaard, even with fellow theologians.”

  “Philosophical discussions always intrigue me. Anyway, for a few moments, I wasn’t thinking about Thad.”

  “You held your own, I’ll sure say that. Sounds to me as though you have made the leap to pure atheism. I’m still on my existential bent—faith as a passion and all. It’s a shame how different ideas tend to separate people. There is so much to learn from disagreement.”
/>   “People try to make sense of their lives based on their understanding—whatever it takes to carve out a place in this uncaring cosmos. Dean, my friend. Why are you calling so late? I know it wasn’t to continue our discussion.”

  “I take it that Thad still hasn’t called.”

  “Not a word. I hate leaving the mansion to go to classes. I always think—what if he calls?”

  “Thad knows my number,” Dean pointed out. “I’ve wondered if he might try to reach me, especially if he really did fall for one of those porn stars, or even that Felipe character you mentioned, as you have feared. Thad would want to get a message to you somehow.”

  “It’s hard not knowing the truth. If Thad is being held against his will, Emilio and the others must have found out where I am. Why haven’t they contacted me? Wouldn’t they want their money back? Maybe hold Thad for ransom?”

  “Thad went through so much to clean up his act,” Dean said. “And no matter what happened, you two always got back together. You are two halves making a whole.”

  “What a sentimental guy you are!”

  “One gets a little syrupy when they pass sixty and still haven’t found the right partner.”

  “What about that fellow that was visiting you from seminary?”

  Dean sighed deeply. “Allie and I admitted our feelings during the final year of seminary. We had yet to take our vows, but we understood the church’s opposition to homosexual relations. One night, we shared a bottle of scotch and ended up in the same bed. I never mentioned it during confession. I doubt Allie did either. Having gay sex truly was the sin that dared not speak its name. That night remains my most cherished memory.”

  “I would venture it’s Algernon’s as well.”

  “We never refer to it. If we were to continue in our vocation, sex had to be put aside for the greater good.”

  Simon struggled for words. Anything he might say would sound hypocritical. Denial of his sexual orientation during his decade adhering to Sun Myung Moon’s theology was just as severe as the vows taken by any priest.

  Dean continued. “I had to respect Allie’s decision. He admitted that he loved me, but he believed that allowing our love to grow was the wrong thing to do. He had always wanted to be a priest. Allie was the only man for me, so I became a priest alongside him. Allie embraced his celibacy as the supreme sacrifice. I felt it took me further from God, not closer, so I left the priesthood. Allie and I have remained friends all these years. Like I mentioned, he admits that he’s gay but absolves himself by never having sex. I wish he’d leave the priesthood, but he won’t even discuss it. No one will ever take Allie’s place in my heart.”

  “Can we talk about something else? This is really depressing. I hate how religious beliefs mangled our lives. I’ve had it up to here.” Simon touched the top of his forehead as if Dean could see the gesture through the phone line. “I am missing Thad more than ever.”

  “One last comment?” Dean asked sheepishly.

  “It’s not as though I’m going back to sleep anytime soon.”

  “Allie and I never understood how we could be so attracted to each other and at the same time be so sure of our calling.”

  “Biology, Dean, biology versus the force of ideas. Sometimes a person has to decide: follow their heart, or follow the ideas they accept as truth. My thought is that we can change our minds but not our feelings.”

  “You’re a one-person dichotomy,” Dean laughed. “Don’t be too hard on Allie. He comes from generations of Louisiana clerics. He never envisioned a relationship with another man until we met at seminary—as ironic as that seems.” Realizing he should change the subject back to the matter at hand, Dean asked, “Should you go to Los Angeles to look for Thad? The professors are quick to accommodate us nontraditional students. You can tell them you need time off.”

  “I’ve thought about it. I keep wondering if Thad is afraid to tell me the truth for fear I would go back to using cocaine. Maybe he’s giving me time, thinking I will move on.”

  “If that’s the case, he doesn’t know you as well as I thought,” Dean responded. “You’ll never move on until you know the truth.”

  “Whatever the story, it’s happening because I didn’t go to California with Thad. I mean, it’s not as though Thad is creating the sound of horse’s hooves on a Foley stage with a pair of coconuts. He scrutinizes the intimate scenes of erotic passion and adds a sigh at just the right moment. How could he not be tempted? Thad is handsome enough to have whomever he wants.”

  “You’re taking my breath away just talking about it,” Dean quipped.

  “Thad is only human—what was I saying about the power of biology?”

  “One thing I know for sure: you never expected those Spanish guys to enter the picture the way they did. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

  “Being my friend is help enough, Dean. How many people can talk about pornography and philosophy in the same conversation? Well, other than the Marquis de Sade, of course.”

  “First Kierkegaard, now the marquis. You’re the first person I’ve met in a long while who’s well versed enough to talk philosophy and sex in the same breath. You obviously learned a lot during your time in Moon’s church. For me, leaving the priesthood was the hardest decision of my life. I get why you bottomed out when you left Moon and why cocaine soothed the pain. If I had not held onto my faith in a benevolent God, alcohol would have been my escape. I don’t know how you live without faith.”

  “I don’t know either,” Simon admitted, “but I just can’t reconcile the facts of science with the suppositions of faith, something that always created a barrier between the rest of the family and me. Vivian nearly flipped out recently because she feared I rejected Genesis and believed in evolution. But there’s no theory that supports the existence of a deity, so why waste time on God any more than on flying saucers?”

  “Conversation for another evening,” Dean demurred, realizing again how far they had moved from Simon’s immediate concern. “I’ve been thinking about something. What if your friend Scott spoke to people in that organization of gay producers he represents? Maybe one of them has heard something about Howard, or about the people from Spain. I met Scott when I visited you, and I know you have a complicated history with him, but wouldn’t he be willing to help?”

  “The thought has occurred to me, but I’m not sure I want to get Scott involved. He can’t keep his mouth shut, even if he is a lawyer, and if word gets around that I am looking for Thad, or someone mentions my name to the wrong person, that could make things worse. I should keep a low profile until I know what’s going on.”

  “You’re afraid Thad might come to harm, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “Are they really that fearsome?”

  “From what I know, yes. When I was considering their offer to procure films, and Felipe explained that they wanted to launder money, he said that if I didn’t go along, they might retaliate. I thought he meant they might badmouth me around the industry, but maybe he meant something much worse.”

  “I keep thinking that you should contact the authorities. You’ve done nothing wrong, after all. Not really.”

  “Except that the original deal wasn’t completely on the up-and-up, either. I represented myself as owning exclusive rights to films that resided in the public domain. I’d rather not expose my international business dealings to scrutiny.”

  “But if Thad is in danger…”

  “I know this sounds self-centered, but cocaine had been calling to me every single day since Thad dropped out of sight. I don’t want the anxiety of getting the FBI or other law enforcement involved—not yet, anyway.”

  “It doesn’t sound self-centered,” Dean consoled. “I feel like getting drunk just thinking about all this.”

  “One puff from a crack pipe and all my troubles would end. That’s the big lie, anyway. Getting high would trade worry about Thad for sheer insanity.”

&nbs
p; “Thad might be fine, wherever he is,” Dean declared unconvincingly. “We don’t know, after all.”

  “Until I know the truth, I won’t rest.”

  “Let’s have dinner before long, Simon. Maybe we can come up with a strategy to figure out what’s going on.”

  “Dinner sounds nice, Dean. I’ll let you know.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When Simon finally reached Wally on his private line, they spoke about a sale he could make to an Argentine submarket by dubbing Bel Air Babes in Italian. Then Simon asked, “Wally, have you heard from Charlotte since I left Hollywood?”

  “She’s no longer your secretary, right?”

  “We definitely parted ways. I was just wondering.”

  “I’m willing to keep working with you, Simon, but only on the videos in our contract. I’ve made that clear. Nothing has changed.”

  Simon wondered what the contract had to do with having heard from Charlotte or not. Simon didn’t get an answer to the question of Rudy’s insistence that he contact Wally. He was convinced that Wally knew something, though his evasiveness wasn’t unusual. Since they’d reconnected after Simon left rehab, their conversations remained strictly about sales.

  Simon considered Dean’s suggestion about going to Hollywood, even driving to Howard’s ranch and confronting him about Thad. Two considerations stopped him. In the first place, since he’d never received a demand for money, he couldn’t believe the Spaniards had abducted Thad. Secondly, having heard nothing directly from Thad increased the likelihood that he indeed was with someone else.

  Simon felt helpless. Should he move on? During every class they shared, Blaine stated a conversation. Despite his repeated allusion to being involved with someone, Simon was sure that Blaine wanted to ask him on a date. Simon couldn’t help feeling flattered. Someone as alluring as Blaine could have anyone he wanted.

 

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