Graham Masterton - Mirror

'Morry?' she questioned him. Then she saw the cocktail stirrers. 'Morry!'

With a small suppressed gasp, Morris pushed the points of the sticks straight through his eardrums, puncturing both of them at once. He stayed quite still for a moment, holding his breath, and then gave each stick an extra twist, so that his tympanic membranes would be completely torn open.

Alison, trembling, picked up the cordless telephone and dialled 911. 'Mr Nathan's house,' she whispered. 'That's right, Mulholland Drive. Please, quickly.'

Then she put down the phone and went over to Morris and knelt down in front of him.

'Oh, Morry,' she said, and held him tightly in her arms, her deaf and blinded husband, and rocked him, and swore to herself that if she never did anything else in her life, ever again, she would have her revenge on Boofuls.

The morning of the premiere of Sweet Chariot, the Los Angeles basin was filled with thick sepia smog. Because of its elevation on the lower slopes of the Hollywood Hills, however, Franklin Avenue was clear of pollution, and when Martin looked out of his kitchen window he felt as if he were staring out over some strange and murky Sargasso Sea.

He drank two cups of hot black coffee, ate a little muesli sprinkled with wheat germ, and then dressed in a white T-shirt and khaki slacks and went downstairs to see if Mr Capelli would like to take a walk down to Hollywood Boulevard.

'A walk?' said Mr Capelli. 'You mean that thing when you put one foot in front of the other and don't stop till you get home again?'

They walked arm in arm, not saying much, but friends, brothers in crisis. They went downhill on La Brea; and then east on Hollywood Boulevard as far as Mann's Chinese Theater, where half a dozen workmen were dressing the marquee for tonight's opening. A huge 3-D billboard had been erected with a fifty-foot acrylic painting of Boofuls, flying through the clouds with a sweet smile of innocence. That scene came from the very end of the picture, when God decides that the young street Arab has done enough good deeds to redeem himself, and accepts His errant son into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Martin and Mr Capelli stood in front of the theater for a long while, watching the electricians connecting the klieg lights. Mr Capelli said, 'You know something, I saw the Kliegl brothers once, when I was a kid. They were arguing in the street about something really technical, like carbon arcs or something. And one of them said to the other — well, I don't know which one it was, John or Anton — but he said, "If it wasn't for me, movies wouldn't even exist." And the other one said, "Maybe that would have been a blessing.'"

Martin smiled. 'You actually saw that?'

Mr Capelli nodded. 'That was a long time ago. Maybe things were more innocent then.'

Martin said, 'I don't think things have ever been innocent, Mr Capelli.'

Mr Capelli squeezed Martin's arm. 'I guess you're right, Martin. I wish you weren't.'

They went into Maxie's for a cup of coffee. They said very little; but then they didn't need to. They were both thinking about Emilio.

When they returned to Franklin Avenue (both perspiring, because the morning was growing hot now), they saw a pale blue Rolls-Royce Corniche convertible parked outside. The license plate was 10 PC.

'That's Morris Nathan's car,' said Martin in surprise. 'I thought Morris wasn't speaking to me - not after I went round to the Fox lot and tried to tell Boofuls what a bastard he was.'

'Just so long as he doesn't keep that heap of imported junk cluttering up my driveway,' Mr Capelli complained.

'Mr Capelli, that's a Rolls-Royce Corniche!'

'Listen, Martin, one day you'll learn. All automobiles are a heap of junk. What are they, plastic, chromium, foam rubber, bits and pieces. This one is a heap of imported junk, that's all.'

'Eut you love your Lincoln.'

'Sure I love my Lincoln. Do you know why? I always kid Emilio it turns itself into a robot, you know, like Transporters.'

'Transformers,' Martin corrected him; but kindly.

'Sure, that's right, Transformers. He loves it. He keeps telling me, Grandpa, I saw it happen, I saw it change. The wheels turned into hands and the hood turned into a hat and the trunk opened up and two legs came out, and who knows what?' There were tears in Mr Capelli's eyes. 'Martin, he's just a little boy. I love him so much. Can't we get him out of there?' ^

Martin said soberly, 'Boofuls did promise. So did Miss Redd.'

Mr Capelli shook his head. 'Those people,' he said. 'Those people.'

When they entered the house, however, they were surprised to find not Morris but Alison, sitting on the stairs in a tight white cotton suntop and a wide 1950s skirt and strappy high-heeled sandals, waiting for them.

As soon as she caught sight of Martin, she came up and flung her arms around him and burst into tears.

'Hey,' said Martin. 'Hey, what's happened? Alison? What's happened?'

'It's Morry,' she wept. 'Oh, Martin, it's Morry.'

Mr Capelli laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Hey, now, don't get upset. Look at you, you're all upset! And look at me, I'm all upset, too!'

Martin asked Alison, 'What's happened? Alison! Is Morry okay?'

Alison choked out, 'He's blind, Martin. He's blind! And he did it himself, with two cocktail stirrers, just like that! And then he stuck them in his ears and made himself deaf!'

'What?' said Martin. 'Are you kidding me, or what? Morris 4 blinded himself? He deafened himself? Alison — he works in the movies!'

'Is that all you care about?' Alison screamed. 'He's my husband! I love him! He gives me everything! And now he's blind and he can't ever see me again, and he's deaf and he can't ever hear me again!'

Martin held Alison close. Mr Capelli, despondent, sat down on the stairs. 'I don't know, what the hell. You sometimes wonder if it's worth living.'

Martin said, 'Come on upstairs. There's another bottle of Chablis in the fridge. The very least we can do is get drunk.'

Alison drank two large glasses of cold Chablis one after the other and then told Martin and Mr Capelli everything that had happened last night, the way that Morris had pierced his eyes and ears. 'I couldn't do anything to help him,' she said; and the tears ran freely down her face. 'I broke the screen, I broke the speakers, but it didn't make any difference.' i Martin said, 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Whatever arguments I ever had with Morris.' Alison wiped her eyes with a crumpled tissue. 'Morry never did anything worse than speak his mind. Nobody deserves to be blind and deaf, just because they spoke their mind. You know, Morry was always speaking his mind, and he was rude sometimes, but he never deserved that.'

'But you really believe that Lejeune did it?' Martin asked her.

Alison nodded. 'I wouldn't have come here otherwise. It was his face, it was his voice. And you remember what he said to Morry, when he was auditioning at Fox? When they had that argument? You never want to see my face again, you never want to hear my name. Well, that's just what he said on the movie. Exactly that - like he was talking to Morry face-to-face.'

Martin said, 'I'm sorry, Alison. I'm really sorry. But there's nothing I can do. I tried to get to Lejeune, but they wouldn't let me.'

Not long afterward, Ramone appeared. He stood in the doorway with his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans, looking like Carlos Santana on his weekend off. Martin told him, 'There's nothing. There's no news.'

'Maybe you should switch on the television,' Ramone suggested. 'They're showing an hour-long program, "The Making of Sweet Chariot", just about now, Channel Four.'

'I don't want to watch that,' said Mr Capelli. 'Maybe I'll get some pizza.'