The Predators (35 page)

“He’s fine,” Jack replied. “He also sends his regards to you and Giselle. Let’s meet in the bar at the hotel at eight.”

“Eight o’clock,” I said. “See you then.”

9

“Dark suit,” Giselle admonished me. “This is Paris.”

“At least I don’t have to wear a tux,” I said.

She laughed. “That depends. If you were going to dinner at Maxim’s and you didn’t wear a tuxedo, they might not let you in, or if they did, you would be seated next to the kitchen.”

“That’s crazy,” I said. “And I remember that during the war we were happy to dress any way that we wanted and we were happy to eat horse meat.”

“The world has changed a lot in the ten years since the war,” she said. She looked at me. “And we’ve grown older, too.”

“Not you,” I said. “You still look like the kid I first met. But I’m beginning to lose a little of my hair.”

“You look fine,” she said. “Maybe if you went gray then you’d look distinguished. You are very handsome. You have nothing to worry about.”

We did not go to Maxim’s for dinner. We went to a great restaurant I had never even heard about and we didn’t get seated anywhere near the kitchen. Everyone in the restaurant knew Jack. Monsieur Cochran was known by everyone. The doorman, the hatcheck girl, the bartender, the maître d’, and the sommelier. Even the
patron
came to the table to greet him.

Jack ordered the wine; I had my usual beer. Jack looked at us. “I know the menu,” he said. “Would you like for me to order the dinner?”

“Fine, Jack,” Giselle answered, glancing at me.

I nodded. “Great,” I said.

Even Archie, Jack’s English friend, went along with all of us. And Jack wasn’t stupid. He had great taste and it was a superb dinner. I looked at him. Gay or not, he knew the finer things in life.

It was almost midnight by the time we finished dinner. Then Jack piled us into his silver Rolls and ordered the chauffeur to take us to the most exclusive cabaret in town. The word was that even the president of France could not get in because he was not gay and would not appear in public with any of the gay men who worked in the government.

It was the Folies Bergère transvestites of the year. I couldn’t believe it after we sat down for the show. I looked at Giselle and she smiled at me. “Aren’t they more beautiful than any line of showgirls or actresses you’ve ever seen?”

“But they don’t have any pussies!” I whispered into her ear.

“Some of them do,” she whispered back to me. “They’ve gone to Denmark and had the operation.”

I turned back to watch the show. I still couldn’t believe it. But they were really good. Apparently they all knew the Englishman. “Archie! Archie!” they called him up to the stage.

He ran up on stage with them. First he joined the chorus line as they all kicked up with their legs as if they were the Radio City Music Hall Rockettes in New York. Then they let him do a turn on his own. He was taller than most of them and spoke perfect French. He began talking and the audience fell apart laughing. I didn’t understand most of it even though Giselle tried to catch me up to what was being said. Then he stood silently in the spotlight. Quickly, with one hand he took out his four front teeth and with the other hand brought a large dildo from his back pocket and began sucking it. Everybody screamed.

Jack leaned toward me, his eyes tearing with laughter. “That’s what he always does. He always says he’s the best cocksucker in the world because he can fit any cock, no matter how big, in between his teeth.”

I looked at him. “Jesus!” I said.

Jack laughed. “You tell anybody in the States about this. They won’t believe you.”

When we got back to the apartment, I looked at Giselle. “What do you think about all of that?”

“Jerree,” she said. “That’s their world!”

10

It was the weekend when I put Giselle on the train to Lyons to see her family. I hadn’t paid any attention at the time, but she had brought three valises from the States. Only one of them contained her things. The other two were gifts and clothing for Therese and their parents that were half the cost of what they would be in France.

I followed the
porteur
with her baggage to a small private cabin on the train. I tipped the
porteur
and watched her sit down. She smiled at me. “This is not expensive. I even have my own bidet and washroom.”

“I’m not complaining.” I looked at her. “It’s just that they never had anything like this in the subways.”

“Neither do they have in the Paris Metro.” She patted the small couch beside her. “Sit. We’ll have a
coupe
of champagne before the train leaves.” She pressed a button and immediately a waiter came to the door.

He was experienced. We did not have to order anything. He already had a bottle of champagne and glasses in front of us. He spoke to Giselle in French, but it was too fast for me to understand. As I paid for the drinks and the tip, he had already opened the bottle and filled our glasses. Then he left, closing the door behind him.

We clinked our glasses. “Have a happy trip,” I said.

“I wish you were coming with me,” she said wistfully.

“I think they will be happier that you came alone,” I said. We sipped our champagne. We both knew how they felt about foreigners. “Besides, it will be only two weeks and you’ll be with me in Cannes.”

“I’m just worried that one of the homos will seduce you,” she said. “I know how they work. Drink. Hashish. Ginseng.”

I started to laugh. “They don’t have a chance. I’m a beer and Lucky Strike man.”

“Then there will be starlets that will flock to the film festival,” she said. “They’re just looking for an American to—”

I interrupted her. “You’re being stupid. Nobody will give a damn. I’m not in the entertainment business. For them I’m just a guy who is hanging out with the gays.”

She leaned toward me and kissed me. “Promise?” she asked.

“Promise,” I answered. Then the waiter came back to the door. It was time to go. We kissed again and I stepped off the train.

*   *   *

Jack was waiting at Paul’s office when I returned from the train station. Through the window on the ground-floor offices he saw me get out of the car after the fat man opened the door. We met in the entrance hall. “Giselle leave to see her parents already?” he said as a greeting.

“Jack,” I said. “That’s right.”

“What are you planning to do? With nothing to do for two weeks?” he asked.

“I haven’t really thought about it. I’m waiting for Paul. He said he has to be in Cannes early. He says he’ll have work to do before everyone arrives,” I said.

“He’ll be staying here for another week. I know that he is going to Cannes only a week before the festival,” he said.

“I thought I’d probably go down with him,” I said.

“He told you that you and Giselle will be staying at my place in Cannes? I’m taking the Rolls with Archie and I thought you might like to join us. We’ll have some fun down there before the crowds get too big,” he said. “Anyway, J. P. thought that you’d go down with us. Paul’s got nothing to do here but work.”

“I’ll talk to Paul,” I said. “I don’t know whether he was expecting me to go with him.”

“I spoke to Paul already,” Jack replied. “Paul said that it’s your call, he has nothing for you to do.”

“Okay, Jack,” I said. “Thanks. When are you planning to drive down?”

“Monday,” he said. “After the weekend traffic rush.”

“You got a deal.” I laughed.

“There’s just one thing you will need down there,” he said. “In many films that will be shown you must wear a tuxedo.”

“Shit!” I said. “I haven’t had a tuxedo on since I left France. I never needed any in the States.”

“Do you still have it?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I lost it a long time ago.”

“We’ll check with Paul,” he said. “I’m sure he has a tailor who works fast. They need them in Paul’s world.”

He was right. Paul sent me right over to a tailor and he had an almost-finished tuxedo that he could send over the next morning. I found evening shirts in white and blue Egyptian cotton and black bow ties at Sulka down the street on George V.

I called Giselle at her parents’ house and told her what I was planning to do. Then suddenly she began to cry into the telephone. “I knew it! I knew it!” she said. “The minute I turned my back they were planning to go up yours.”

“My God!” I said. “Giselle, what’s goin’ on with you? Do you really think those assholes control the world? If they do, they don’t control me. I’m straight and if you don’t know it by now, you’ll never know.”

“But we never try to make a baby!” she wailed.

“What do you think we are doing when we are fucking? Playing solitaire?” I asked.

She went silent for a moment. Then she spoke. “I’m sorry. I never wanted a baby before and maybe I still don’t want one.” She took a deep breath. “It’s just that I found out that Therese is having a baby; maybe I was a little jealous.”

“Don’t be jealous,” I said. “We’re still young and we have all the time in the world that we need to have babies.”

11

It only took seven hours to drive down to Cannes in the big silver Rolls convertible. Seven hours and six bottles of Dom Pérignon and a kilo of Malassol caviar. Jack and Archie were on their own diet. They didn’t even get out of the car to piss. There were special urinal bottles, on which were engraved J. P. that were stowed away in a large rubber-lined compartment under the convertible top.

I couldn’t believe it. They thought it was a lark and were betting between themselves how long I could hold it back. I fooled both of them when they had to stop for gasoline, just before we got to Cannes. It was the longest piss I had ever had.

When I went back to the car, they were standing up and applauding. Then Jack placed a ribbon on my neck which held a gold-plated medal. The Number One Pisser in the World. He kissed me French style on each cheek. “You are now an honorary fag!” Then they fell back into their seats laughing, and seemed to fall asleep.

I was seated in the passenger’s side next to the chauffeur. We looked at each other. “They’re having fun.” He smiled as he spoke in English.

“Is it always like this?” I asked, taking the medal off.

“Not as much when J. P. is around,” he answered. I looked at the backseat. They were gone. I turned around and took out a cigarette. I offered one to the chauffeur. He shook his head as he held the lighter from the dash toward me. “I can’t smoke while I’m on duty,” he said politely.

There was nothing we had to say until we reached Jack’s villa. Then the chauffeur went into the house and came back with two burly housemen. Jack and Archie were still out when the men threw them like sacks of potatoes over their shoulders and took them to their rooms.

I walked into the entrance hall and then the living room. It was just another palace, not as grand as J. P.’s, but something important enough to blow my mind. I walked to the windows. The view was the same as J. P.’s but from lower on the hill. Cannes was starting to slip into night and the lights were coming on both in the town and on the yachts in the marina, turning into a picture that only an artist can paint.

A woman’s voice came from behind me. “
Bienvenue
, Monsieur Jerry. The Villa Jocko is at your command.”

I turned. She was a very well dressed lady about forty and very attractive. “I am Arlene,” she said. “I am the hostess for Jack. May I offer you a drink?”

“No, thank you,” I said. “But I would like to go to my room and clean up.”

“No problem,” she said, and clapped her hands sharply. One of the housemen who had caried Jack into the house nodded. She spoke briefly in French. “Monsieur Jerry will have the blue room.” She turned back to me and spoke in English. “Dinner will be at nine this evening.”

“Thank you, Arlene,” I said, and followed the houseman up the staircase. I wasn’t surprised that my luggage was already in the room.

The houseman spoke to me in English. “I am also your valet,” he said. “May I unpack you, sir?”

*   *   *

I had never been in Cannes at the time of the film festival. Now that it was almost ten days before the opening, the excitement was already building. There were billboards and signs hung outside the entrances to all of the big hotels. They were advertising movies from many countries and many languages. Only a few of them were in English.

I would sit during the morning at a table of the Festivale, a restaurant that was located catercorner to the Palais de Festivale. It was there that all of the participants of the festival had to register and collect the tickets for the motion pictures that were being shown. In addition to the films being shown at the festival, there were at least fifty or more other movies trying to be sold and distributed in other countries around the world.

That was the morning. At luncheon I moved down to the beach restaurant of the Hotel Carlton. There were the most beautiful starlets in the world here, and influential producers and directors who controlled the flesh market. And they, too, men and women, came from all over the world. And these were not the most important actors and actresses, producers and directors that were competing in the festival. That was yet to come. But it didn’t matter. This was where the action was.

I thought it was like a dream. But Jack and Archie didn’t give a damn. They had been through it too many times before. At night they had their own cabarets and discos. I would have dinner at the villa with them and then I would try to find English newspapers and magazines to read. Then everything changed. First Paul appeared. Two days later, Giselle came down. And finally, a week later, J. P. returned.

12

Giselle was very excited about the festival. She told me that several girls that she had known while working with Paul were in the movies now. Not really stars but important enough for them to be recognized by the paparazzi. The result was that their photographs would end up in movie magazines, tabloids, and newspapers around the world.

Paul pushed his “girls,” as he called them, into more and more photograph opportunities with well-known stars. One of the best stories he told was about his publicity stunt he planned in the festival of 1954. Simone Silva, an actress with small movie credits, did a striptease on the steps of the Palais de Festivale. She did it while the most important producers and artists were entering the theater to watch one of the most important movies of the festival.