Jonathan Kellerman - Breakdown

He flicked a lapel. “Learned a real skill, now I get to actually accomplish something. Ever watch Sub ?”

“A bit of video.”

“You catch me doing my thing?”

I nodded.

“So you’re probably surprised I’m not queer.” He pounded his chest. “Acting! Brrrilliance! ”

I laughed.

“I dig that spontaneous reaction, Doc, apparently Steve-o’s still got it going on. So what do you want to know about Zelda?”

I said, “Tell me about her mental problems.”

“Okay... well, obviously, she was moody, everyone in the industry’s moody. But with Zelda it was more intense. She could sink real low real fast, then spring out of it and get hyper so fast you wondered if she’d been putting you on when she was down.”

“Did that cause problems on the set?”

“No, that’s the thing. If she had a scene to shoot, she was ready. It’s like she was... a machine.”

“How’d you know she wasn’t putting it on?”

He put his coffee down. “You’re saying she was a faker?”

I shook my head. “Just trying to educate myself.”

“How do I know? For one thing, I spotted her doing it when she thought no one was looking. More than once.”

“Doing what?”

“Going ultra-down, then ultra-up. Down would be sobbing in her dressing room and rocking like an autistic kid. Skulking off the set, face like a zombie. Up would be racing back and forth through a hallway, bouncing like a yo-yo, tearing at her hair while she talked to herself like a tweaking monkey.”

I said, “Could she have been tweaking?”

“Hmm, good question, Doc. I’ve known plenty of dopers in my day including tweakers, and I have to say this seemed different. But you’re the expert. I sure didn’t see any signs of her being a meth-head — her weight was stable, her skin was gorgeous — she was gorgeous. Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded getting with her but there just wasn’t that vibe between us, you know?”

I nodded. “Did anyone else notice her swings?”

Beal’s eyes slitted. “You need backup for what I’m telling you?”

“Just wondering how obvious it was.”

“It wasn’t obvious at all. Everything I saw was in passing, it’s not like I was stalking her, it was my work ethic. I was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. Ask anyone if I ever needed more than three takes.”

“Got it,” I said. “Did Zelda ever show signs of mental confusion — hallucinating, talking about unusual theories or ideas?”

“If she saw flying elephants I never heard about it. Who knows what goes on in people’s heads, right, Doc? In terms of nutty ideas, hell, yeah. She’d wander in late to the set, claim her plane got held up. But she’d never left town, we’d been taping continually. Then there was the religious shit, lots of that.”

“Born again?”

“More like reborn constantly,” said Beal. “One week she’s a Buddhist, the next she’s into Sufism. Then it’s kabbalah, she’s running her hand over a book to soak up secrets. Then it’s boom, back to Jesus, she’s wearing a humongous crucifix. It became a joke on the set, who’s Zelda’s God for the day. Once I asked her about whatever she was into, I forget, and she said she was being guided by an unseen spirit. I said like a guardian angel and she smiled and kissed my cheek and walked away. Like she’d seen the light but I could never hope to understand.”

He leaned forward. “I just remembered the weirdest thing she did. She told me she’d just learned she was God. We were sitting around between takes and she drops that on me. I figure she’s kidding, so I made a crack like, ‘How bout giving me some stock-market tips, Jehovah?’ She just stared at me and turned away and started doing some kind of crazy humming chant. But maybe all she meant was one of those new-agey things — God lives in all of us.”

“Did she ever talk about delusions that weren’t religious?”

Beal slapped his forehead. “You know, now that you’ve got me flashing back, stuff’s coming to me. Maybe that wasn’t the insanest thing she said, maybe another thing was.”

Picking an almond sliver off a croissant, he chewed, swallowed. “I’m not sure I even want to tell you, you might think I’m nuts.”

I smiled. “Promise: no diagnosis.”

“All right, ready for this? She thought she was her own mother.”

“That is a new one.”

“Even for you, huh? Well, that’s reassuring because it totally threw me. ”

“What exactly did she—”

“That her mother was a movie star who’d disappeared when she was a kid and she’d just re appeared by inserting herself into Zelda. After Zelda had her baby. What made it even bizarrer was how calm she was when she said it. Like ordering an omelet. Then she starts poking different parts of her stomach and telling me ‘Mommy’s hugging and warming me here, here and here and here.’ ”

“Did she ever mention her mother’s name?”

“Nope, just ‘Mommy’ or maybe ‘Mother,’ can’t remember. Oh, yeah, she also said something about blood and dirt, made these scooping motions with her hands. Like she was digging something up. Not gonna lie, Doc, it weirded me out. After that I kept my distance.”

“Did other people on the set avoid her?”

“Hmm... Zelda was never a big socializer. Honestly, I don’t know what was in anyone else’s head. Like I said, we weren’t a close-knit bunch.”

“Did her behavior have anything to do with the cancellation?”

“Oh, no, she did a fine job once the tape was rolling. We got dumped because the show was crap and people stopped watching and the network had better prospects. You were her kid’s shrink, I assume you knew she had her own shrink. Some older guy, every so often he’d show up on the set, just hang back, not doing much. Zelda never said who he was but everyone knew because that’s the way it is on a show. No one thought anything of it, she wouldn’t be the first person to bring her therapist to work. Anyway, you should be talking to him.”

“Dr. Sherman,” I said. “He’s the one who referred Zelda’s son to me. Unfortunately, he’s deceased.”

“Oh. Too bad. So I’m last resort, huh?”

“Sometimes peers know things therapists don’t, Steve. Did Zelda ever bring her son to work?”

“No, never. Never tried to wangle a part for him, either, far as I know. That’s my Mommy Dearest thing kicking in. My old lady never got closer to the industry than being a script girl on commercials, convinced herself I’d be her golden goose. And I was. Not that I ever saw a penny of it.”

“The Coogan Act didn’t help?”

“The Coogan Act says kids get a guaranteed percentage, but it’s small and can also be spent for the kid’s benefit, meaning any damn thing the guardian decides. My maternal figure decided a five-year-old needed trips to Hawaii where he’d be left alone in hotel rooms while she partied.”

I shook my head.

Beal said, “Don’t bother feeling sorry for me, Doc. My life’s fantastic.” He finished the croissant, pointed. “That one’s yours.”

“No, thanks.”

“A man with willpower. Doesn’t life get boring?”

“Any idea where Zelda lived when the show got cut?”

“Nope. Don’t the cops know her current address? You might find the boy there, with some caretaker.”

I said, “She was a street person.”

“Oh,” said Beal. “Shit, that’s why you’re worried about the kid — crazy woman, who knows what she’d be capable of. I’d like to be able to tell you no way, Zelda would never hurt anyone. But I can’t, people can’t be predicted anyway, let alone psychos.”