Квентин Тарантино - Once Upon a Time in Hollywood - The First Novel By Quentin Tarantino

“What?” Caleb asks.

The eight-year-old child repeats her name to the outlaw leader. “My name is Mirabella. If you’re gonna murder me in cold blood, I don’t want you to just think of me as Murdock Lancer’s little girl.”

Something about the way she says that registers with the outlaw. And suddenly it becomes important for Caleb to make her understand his fairness on this matter.

“Look, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. Obviously your pa’s gonna pay me my money. You’re worth it and he can afford it. So when he does pay me my money, I’ll release ya unharmed.”

There’s silence on the other side of the phone for a beat and a half. Then her voice comes back on the line, only now instead of being overly dramatic, she makes a surprisingly analytical observation.

“Interesting choice of words.”

“What?” a confused Caleb asks.

Then Mirabella Lancer, sounding remarkably like Trudi Frazer, explains her observation to the land-pirate leader: “You said ‘my money.’ It’s my father’s money. The money he earned , not stole , raising cattle and driving them to market. But you said ‘my money.’ You actually think you’re entitled to my father’s money?”

And with that delivery, little Mirabella and little Trudi push little buttons inside of the psyche of both the outlaw and the actor, and in the middle of his kitchen—dressed in his red silk kimono—Rick Dalton as Caleb DeCoteau metamorphoses back into the snarling, megalomaniacal, murdering bandit he always was and answers her in one big explosion of breath.

“That’s right, Mirabella, I am! I’m entitled to whatever I can take ! And after I take it, I’m entitled to whatever I can keep! Your pa wants to keep me from blowin’ your fool head off? He oughta pay my price!”

In other words: a rattlesnake on a motorcycle.

The child asks a simple question: “And my price is ten thousand dollars?”

An out-of-breath outlaw and actor replies, “Yep.”

A coy little hostage remarks, “That seems rather high for little ol’ me.”

Sincerely, Caleb responds, “That’s where you’re wrong, Mirabella.” Then, compelled by emotion, Rick improvises, “If I was your pa—” He stops.

“What?” the voice on the other end of the receiver demands.

Rick opens his mouth, but the words don’t come out.

The child on the other end of the phone demands, “‘If I were your pa’ what?”

Rick blurts out, “I’d cut off my arm to get you back!”

Silence fills the room and the scene, but Rick can hear Trudi’s self-satisfied smile over the phone.

Then, after a dramatic pause you could drive three trucks through, Trudi as Mirabella comes back on the line and asks, “Was that a compliment, Caleb?”

Then Trudi breaks out of character and describes stage direction. She reads, “Then Johnny comes up to the door. Knock knock.”

“Who is it?” Caleb asks.

Trudi adopts a deep cowboy voice and says, “Madrid.”

“C’mon in,” Caleb orders.

Trudi tells Rick, “The rest of your lines are with Johnny. So I’ll do Johnny’s lines.” With her throaty Johnny Madrid voice, Trudi asks, “What’s the plan?”

Caleb tells him, “Plan is, Lancer meets us in Mexico five days from now with ten thousand dollars.”

She drawls out, “That’s a lotta money to carry on a long ride.”

Caleb snorts, “That’s Lancer’s problem.”

Trudi as Johnny points out, “Something happens to that money and we don’t get it, that’s our problem.”

Caleb spins toward Johnny and violently says, “Something happens to that money, that’s her problem!” With fire in his eyes, he tells Johnny Lancer, “Git it straight, boy! In five days’ time, Murdock Lancer is going to pay me my ten thousand dollars! And if anything happens to my ten thousand dollars before they reach us, we will not be understanding. The name of this game ain’t ‘I tried.’

“Murdock Lancer puts ten thousand dollars right smack-dab in my hand—or I crush her head in with a rock!”

Rick and Caleb breathe in and out hard after that explosion. Then, after taking the well-earned dramatic pause that George Cukor denied him, Rick asks, “Now, do you got a problem with that … Madrid?”

Then Trudi as Johnny replies, “My only problem, Caleb , is you keep callin’ me ‘Madrid.’”

Caleb snorts, “That’s your name, ain’t it?”

Then she says, “Not no more. Now … the name’s Lancer. Johnny Lancer.”

Rick goes for the imaginary pistol hanging off his hip, as Trudi on the other end of the receiver yells, “Bang bang bang!”

Rick lets out an excruciating scream as he falls to the linoleum floor of his kitchen, clutching his face as if that’s where Johnny shot him.

On the other end of the phone, Trudi asks, “What was that?”

On the floor of his kitchen, Rick tells her, “I acted like I got shot in the face.”

She coos an enthusiastic “Oooh, good idea.” Then, after a beat, she says, excited, “Hey, man, that was a pretty frickin’ good scene!”

Rick sits up from the floor and leans his back against his refrigerator. “Yeah, it was,” he agrees.

His scene partner says, “We’re going to kill this scene tomorrow!”

She’s right.

“Yeah,” he says, “I think we are.”

A moment of silence passes between the two thespians.

Then the younger one reminds him, “Wow, Rick, isn’t our job great? We’re so lucky, ain’t we?”

And for the first time in ten years, Rick realizes how fortunate he is and was. All the wonderful actors he’s worked with through the years—Meeker, Bronson, Coburn, Morrow, McGavin, Robert Blake, Glenn Ford, Edward G. Robinson. All the different actresses he got to kiss. All the affairs he had. All the interesting people he got to work with. All the places he got to visit. All the fun stories he got to live. All the times he saw his name and picture in the papers and magazines. All the nice hotel rooms. All the fuss people made over him. All the fan mail he never read. All the times driving through Hollywood as a citizen in good standing. He looks around at the fabulous house he owns. Paid for by doing what he used to do for free when he was a little boy: pretending to be a cowboy.

Then he tells Trudi, “Yes we are, Trudi. We’re real lucky.”

His little scene partner bids him good night. “Good night, Caleb, see you tomorrow.”

And a very grateful Rick Dalton says, “Good night, Mirabella, see you tomorrow.”

And the next day on the Twentieth Century Fox back lot, on the set of Lancer , the two actors knocked ’em dead.

Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to reprint previously published material:

Lyrics from “Little Green Apples” words and music by Bobby Russell. Copyright © 1968 UNIVERSAL – SONGS OF POLYGRAM INTERNATIONAL, INC. Copyright renewed. All rights reserved. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard LLC.

Lyrics from “Lookin’ Out My Back Door” words and music by John Fogerty. Copyright © 1970 Jondora Music c/o Concord Music Publishing. Copyright renewed. All rights reserved. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard LLC.

Lyrics from “Secret Agent Man” (from the television series) words and music by P.F. Sloan and Steve Barri. Copyright © 1965 UNIVERSAL MUSIC CORP. Copyright renewed. All rights reserved. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard LLC.

Lyrics from “Teddy Bear Song” words and music by Don Earl and Nick Nixon. Copyright © 1971 SONGS OF UNIVERSAL, INC. Copyright renewed. All rights reserved. Used by permission. Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard LLC.