Chase The Rabbit: Gretch Bayonne Action Adventure Series Book #1 (12 page)

                                                                      ***

              The sun sank on the horizon like a party pooper at a speakeasy on a Saturday night. Suddenly it was dark, and we all had to go back home. Or in this case, back inside the Graf, first through the guts, and then into the cabin area.

              We filed back down the ladder, one at a time.  I made sure I was the last to go. And just before I did, I took a final spin on the beast’s back, jumping and screaming at the top of my lungs, alone. I was celebrating my triumph one last time. We would be landing the following morning, bright and early, where everything would be back to normal. I was certain that by then, business as usual would make them all forget me. I would go on my way to my mission of finding the man I’d been commissioned to bring back to the woman I’d fallen for instantly. Yes, reality was going to come back for all of us. So I took that one last opportunity to relish the moment.

              “Patricia!” I shouted. “I wish you could see this! I wish you could have been here! But I will find your husband! I promise! If I could make this happen, I can make anything happen! I am Harry Houdini!”

              The climb down the ladder from the observation point felt good this time. I wasn’t dreading getting down into the belly because I knew I would be only passing through and not getting digested this time around. I made my way into the cabin and down the hallway to the large open area, only to be greeted by applause from the entire party, including William Randolph Hearst. Everyone was trying to talk to me all at once. The entire room was focused on me, and they were all smiling and whistling. It was overwhelming to say the least.

             
This must be what it is like to be famous,
I thought. And to make it even more surreal, the fans, my audience, were famous themselves! It was an upside down experience. The rich and famous were giving it back to me.  It was almost more than I could take. But took it, I did.  And I loved it. It was almost as much of an adrenaline rush as flying on the back of the Graf. Somehow, I’d managed to pull off sharing that experience with these people. And because of that, suddenly-I was the star. 

              Hearst finally got the room under control again and was able to make an announcement.

              “Okay, people, we are still on a schedule. What happened just now changed everything for the film, though, because we just shot two canisters of film,” he said.

             
Oh shit,
I thought,
here we go, back to reality.

              “What that means,” Hearst continued, “is we do not have enough film to document the landing at the Olympics as planned.”

              Everyone was chattering at once, so I was only hearing snippets of their comments. 

              “There will be plenty of film crews at the Olympics for that,” Fairbanks said.

              “Yes, you can buy a ton of footage of the actual landing,” someone else chimed in.

              Hartmann started shushing everyone. The normally very reserved and quiet cameraman suddenly took control of the conversation. The room suddenly fell silent.

              “We do have film left,” he said. “We have one canister, but we need at least two. We were going to use it to shoot Dr. Eckener and Captain Lehmann. Remember?”

              Hearst began looking through his notebook as he frequently did, flipping through the pages rapidly.

              “Hmm.” Hearst said. “Yes, we have that as scene 63.  You are right.”

              “With all due respect to the captain and the crew, their interview segment may not be as, um, as timely to this documentary, as the footage of the stars preparing to exit the Graf at the Olympics,” Hartmann explained. 

              “Yes,” Hearst said. “And we can always get a few minutes with them later, if necessary.”

              Again, everyone started talking at once, chiming in with comments.

              “The dramatic element is to show us preparing to walk out of the Graf at the Olympics,” Chaplain said.

              “I agree,” said Fairbanks. “The documentary should show us before we exit the ship and head into the audience! I think that is very important!”

              “The question is,” asked Marion, “which is more important? Dr. Eckener and Captain Lehmann are very famous as well!”

              Hearst raised his hand and lowered his head. He was in control again.

              “We will skip the segment on Dr. Eckener and the Captain,” he announced. “The two reels we shot in their place are far more important. And I agree, we must have footage of us from inside the ship as we leave it at the Olympics.”

              “We have how many reels left?” asked Chaplin.

              “Just one,” said Hartmann. “So, about ten minutes of film before editing.”

              “And that’s not enough?” asked Groucho. “You need more than ten minutes of us getting ready to step off the ship?”

              “We’ll need at least ten minutes to shoot the stadium as

we approach it,” Hearst explained. The view will be

incredible! Everyone will want to see that!”

              “Then five minutes of us departing, shot from inside

the Graf?” asked Groucho.

              “Yes, but we need more film,” Hearst sighed.

                “I’ve got a crazy idea,” I chimed in. “It may not work,

but…”

              “What is it?” Hearst asked.

              “Well, you need more film, right?”

              “Yes,” he said, “And?”

              “Those planes have been following us all this way.

What if we could get a plane to drop more film on the

top of the Graf?” I asked. 

              “What?” Fairbanks said. “In the dark? Drop film

canisters on top of the Graf in the dark? That will never

work!”

              “That’s crazy,” Groucho said. “But I like it.”

              “But how would they be able to even see the airship in

the dead of night,” Fairbanks asked, “let alone drop

film?”             

              “It could work,” Hearst said.” By god, it could work,

and it’s damned well worth a try!”

              “We could go up top again with lights,” Marion said. 

              “And they can get very close and drop them with

small parachutes!” said Jean Harlow.

              “As big as this damned thing is,” said Chaplin, “they

almost could land on top of her!”

              “Radio my studio!” said Hearst. “We’re getting more

film! Tonight!”

              “You are really going to try this, sir?” asked

Hartmann.

              “I am not going to try this,” Hearst replied. “I am

going to
do
this! Get Howard Hughes on the phone! Now!”

Chapter Ten

N
one of this would have happened had I not climbed that damned ladder. Once I opened that hatch to the outside world, everything changed for everyone on the Graf.

              But the same could be said for me taking that call from the lawyers who led me to Patricia, and this insane assignment. I still felt the same way. I didn’t care about the Olympics or movie stars. Not really. Sure, they were amusing. But entertainment isn’t the real world. It’s quite the opposite. It is a distraction from the perils of reality.  And I guess that’s what makes it so popular. 

              Somehow, I had managed to work myself into this bizarre story full of movie stars and carefully scripted dialog. I ripped up their script and took them to reality. The real world isn’t scripted. I took them all to the top. I brought them into my world, and was about to pay the consequence.

                                                                      ***

I was standing next to William Randolph Hearst in the pilot control room when the call finally came in. It was three o’clock in the morning.

              “William, this is Hughes,” the voice said. “What the hell is going on?”

              “Howard! Thank God!” Hearst said. “Sorry to wake you up in the middle of the night, but I need your help!”

“What is it?” Hughes asked.

              “I need more film!” Hearst explained. “Long story short, I need you to fly me some film canisters and drop them onto the back of the Graf right away!”

              “What the hell happened?” Hughes exclaimed.

              “I will explain all that later,” Hearst said. “But I have a car waiting outside of your house right now with film in bags with tiny parachutes. I need you to fly them to me as soon as possible!”

              “You want me to find the Graf and drop film off?” Hughes asked. 

              “Yes!” Hearst said. “That is exactly what I want you to do!”

              “What the hell are you shooting?” Hughes said. “Hells Angels Part Two?”

              “Howard,” the old man said, “enough with the jokes. I need you as a pilot, my friend. I don’t think anyone else can do this.”

              “Roger that,” Hughes said. “I can do that. I will leave right away!”

              “Thank you, Howard,” said Hearst.

              “No problem, compadre,” Hughes replied. “I will radio you en route.”

              Hearst set the microphone down and sighed in relief.

              “That seemed easy enough,” I said.

              Hearst looked at me and I could tell he was tired and worried. “I am going to go to sleep now,” he said. “It will probably take him a couple of hours to get to us. Wake me when he is near.”

              I followed Hearst down the hallway to room number one. Now it was up to me to monitor Hughes’ flight and arrival. As for the actual drop of the film, I had no idea how that would work out. The rest of the passengers were fast asleep.

              I found the hammock up topside where I had slept the night before. But this time it seemed like home. I knew the phone hanging nearby would ring when Hughes was in position to make the drop and figured I had a couple of hours to get some sleep. As I fell into slumber, I asked myself, why is this my responsibility? I was just in this for the ride. But then I interfered with the schedule. That is why. I couldn’t leave well enough alone and just be a passenger. I had to drive the damned Packard into the river.  Sometimes, no, there are always consequences to that.

                                                                      ***

              My dream that night was like a bizarre movie, complete with flying monkeys, mysterious Germans and a beautiful women named Patricia. And hovering over me the whole time was my mother saying, “Bay, be careful, you are in great danger, my son.” Images of my mother kept shifting back and forth to the woman I’d fallen madly in love with.

              “Please find my husband,” Patricia said. “And bring him back home to me and his daughter, Rose.”

              Hearst himself was there.

                “Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me about this before?”

              Even Alvon, the Monkey Man, made an appearance.

              “It is called
Seven Monkeys,
Mr. Bay.” 

              A rapid-fire whirlwind of people were saying things to me that had all really happened. But none of it made any sense. Then suddenly the phone rang and woke me up. I fell out of the hammock and scrambled to the phone.

              “Bay here,” I said.

              “This is Howard Hughes,” the voice said. “I am over the Graf now!”