Christopher Beha - Arts & Entertainments - A Novel

Moody had kept the windows closed, and the back of the car was filling with smoke. He stopped to flick ash from his cigarette, and he lazily applied it to the floor mat with his foot.

“But the crew had their own problems. The things that were really going on in that place couldn’t be captured on film, because they were meant for God, not for the audience. They happened inside people. I watched all this, and somehow I knew what the audience would want to see. I started to intervene in little ways. When I saw someone praying, I suggested that he look up a bit more, or put his hands in a reverential pose. All minor stuff. I expected some resistance from the priests, but they cooperated completely. The order had cut back their budget, and they were hoping this film would save the place. They would happily tilt their heads a few degrees in one direction if it would make a difference. And it did make a difference. I knew it would.”

“So you found your talent,” Eddie said.

“It’s not a talent, exactly,” Moody clarified, ignoring Eddie’s sarcasm. “It was just good timing. These priests, they wanted the video to lead the audience to God. But I realized they had it all wrong. They needed the audience because there is no God. The more I considered it, the more I saw in the audience everything I’d been taught to see in him. Never visible, but always present. Many and one at the same time. We exist for the audience — on a basic level, it created us. The audience gives us free will, but it expects us to use that freedom in a way that pleases it. If we don’t, we are banished to hell. Do you know what hell is?”

Eddie laughed. “Getting taken off the air.”

“This isn’t a joke,” Moody said. It was the first time Eddie had seen him angry, but he quickly regained his usual calm. “The next week, the documentary crew packed up, and I asked to come with them. I told them I could help in the editing process. I knew what the place was really like, and I knew how to capture it on-screen. They’d seen that the tinkering I’d been doing had given them better footage, so they offered me an unpaid internship. Two years later I was running the production company.”

“So you went from the priesthood to Date Rape Drive-In and Puppy Mill Tycoon .”

“It turns out the audience wanted Puppy Mill Tycoon ,” Moody said simply. “They wanted Date Rape Drive-In .”

“That sounds like a story you tell so you don’t have to feel bad about lying to people and making work that isn’t any good.”

Moody dropped his cigarette to the floor of the car and stomped it out before lighting another.

“I don’t know what you mean when you say that word, good. I’m not being facetious. I really don’t. Probably you really don’t know either. In the world I used to live in, good is whatever God wants. That’s it. There’s no other measuring stick. There is no good before God. When we say that God is good, all we’re saying is that God is God. In the world I live in now, it’s the same thing. There’s only one criterion. What does the audience want? Does the audience want you to be honest? Does the audience want you to be kind?”

Moody paused, and Eddie realized he was once again expecting a response.

“The audience wants us to be interesting,” Eddie said.

“You’re getting there,” Moody said. “But it’s simpler than that. The audience only has one way of expressing its interest — by watching. They might watch because they love you. They might watch because they hate you. They might watch because they’re sick. Doesn’t matter. Is that good or bad? The question doesn’t make any sense. Good is whatever the audience watches.”

“But if the audience is so important, don’t you want to improve them? Couldn’t you train them to want something better?”

“You still don’t get it, Eddie. There is no ‘something better.’ The audience is all there is.”

“It’s a nice little parable,” Eddie said. “But it has nothing to do with me.”

“Here’s what it has to do with you. You think I’ve got no standards. But I do have standards. And I don’t care about the money. The money is just a manifestation. I care about the audience, and I won’t defy them. I want you to know that you can’t threaten me. You want to tell the world it’s all bullshit? If you do that I’ll lose a lot of money, and I’ll never recover that five million from you. But I’d rather lose that money than do something the audience doesn’t want. It’s important that you believe me when I say this. Don’t try to call my bluff, because I’m not bluffing.”

“Neither am I,” Eddie said. “If I ruin the show, Susan will have to come back to me. There won’t be anywhere else to go.”

“How do you think she’ll feel about that? She could have come back to you at any time. She’s not chained up. She’s sticking with the show because she wants to be on the show.”

“She’ll change her mind.”

“So let her change her mind. Give her a chance to decide for herself.”

“And what do I do in the meantime?”

“I have a plan for you,” Moody said. “The audience has a plan for you. It involves going back to Melissa and taking on the sins of the world. If you do that your wife and your children will be set forever. And you’ll have a television career for as long as you want one. But we’ve got to get moving on this. I let you out of this car, and you walk back to the hotel. You don’t even take the bags out of the trunk. That never happened. I drive away, and Hal is waiting for you outside the hotel.”

Eddie could see it all playing out. He knew it would work exactly as Moody described. Everything always did. But for all his gnomic authority, Moody wasn’t actually omnipotent. If he were, he wouldn’t bother talking Eddie into anything. He’d just make it happen. And he didn’t actually own Eddie. For all the pressure he might apply, Eddie could still say no. That was still under his control.

“I won’t do it,” he said with as much finality as he could manage.

Moody took this with surprising equanimity.

“Too bad,” he said. “It would have been great TV.”

Though Moody made no sign that Eddie could see, the car pulled over and the doors unlocked.

“Where do I go from here?” Eddie asked.

“You go wherever you want. I can’t stop you. You’ll still be getting your weekly check until the contract expires. The imperial suite at the Cue is waiting, but if you don’t want to stay there, it’s not my job to find you other accommodations. You’re on your own.”

Eddie had expected to find himself across town, but it seemed they had been driving in circles, because Moody dropped him near Washington Square, not far from where Eddie had waited for Melissa that morning. This time, Moody didn’t offer to help with the bags. Eddie took them from the trunk and placed them on the sidewalk. Before the car pulled away, a window opened.

“One more thing,” Moody said. “You’ve still got a chance to do a selfless act. Stay away when those babies are born. The hospital is going to be covered with security, so you won’t get to her anyway, but you shouldn’t even try. You need to understand that she doesn’t want you there. If you force yourself into the situation, you’ll be causing needless suffering for Susan and the kids.”

The window closed and the car sped off, leaving Eddie alone with his luggage. He felt ridiculous carrying all these expensive clothes he’d bought for show. On the corner, two homeless men were begging for change. Eddie brought the two suitcases over and put one in front of each of them.

“Do you guys need some clothes?” he asked. “All brand-new. They still have tags, so you can sell them if you don’t want them.”