Three Days Before the Shooting ... (183 page)

BOOK: Three Days Before the Shooting ...
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“Ole Jack has been laying low and playing it cool, but now with that camera grinding away here he comes. Strutting along in his deep-wine-red bully-woollies; which, being him, he’s wearing with the drop-seat gaping. And behind him the fool is pulling an old billy goat which he stole off the grounds of the hospital where its blood was used for making serums.

“Jack’s wearing a black derby hat and smoking a big black cigar and sweating up a river as he drags the goat along. And quite naturally, with the poor goat being upset by all the noise and people, he’s butting at anything that moves and smelling up the sidewalk like a crapping machine.

“Oh, the lamb misused breeds public strife—
that’s from a poem I’ve read, and from
all the fancy footwork folks were using in getting out of his path it’s doubly true of billy goats.

“Anyway, by now Halloween is everywhere. Folks are wearing costumes right down to the bricks. With women dressed as men and men as women, and with all kinds of foreigners being represented. Because when it came to masquerading, folks were forgetting their prejudices and trying anything and everything on for size and feeling. But just after Jack and that goat showed up some powerful conjure woman—probably old Miss Mildred Merryweather—must have dropped the shuck, cussed it, and set it on fire.

“I say that because when Buster and I came down the hill to watch the fun we heard Mr. Pulliham’s big black dog cut loose with a bark which he followed with a lonesome howl. Then from up in the corner dance hall where the band was tuning up we heard the trombone player stick his horn out the window and blow some pure gut-bucket down the crowd. And that’s when we see Jack stop pulling on the goat and do a nasty mess-around. Then he throws back his be-derbied head and yells, ‘Aw, put us in the alley, love’—which was his nickname for everybody, both men and women, white folks, Indians, Chinese, Mexicans, and Jews. And he got away with it too, because he always winked and grinned so that nobody knew what the hell to do about it. So now with folks yelling and shouting to encourage the fool, the three movie men were cussing like sailors because folks keep getting between Jack’s clowning and their camera lens.

“With the camera set up in the intersection of the street they had been making some shots of the leading lady and the leading man, but now, with Jack cutting the fool, the one with the Southern accent was trying to herd everyone who wasn’t in the scene off to one side. He’s trying to use some slave-master psychology, but it won’t work and it’s about to get his Rebel up. But then the one with all the accents, who’s directing from on top of a big moving van, finally gets folks to move out of the way. Then through his little megaphone he tells the leading man and lady what he wants them to do. And since they don’t know the beginning or the end of the story, he explains that the hero is supposed to be a young lawyer who’s new in town, and that he hopes to make his fortune by helping to bring some law and order to the wild and woolly frontier. And although he’s only seen her passing in the street he’s supposed to be falling head over heels in love with the fine southwestern pioneer gal who’s being acted by the little leading lady.

“So now the leading man is supposed to be out on the streets trying to get her in his sights, but he’s not supposed to let her see the extent of his true feelings. Just pretend that you’re walking past the ice-cream parlor where she’s having a soda, the director says, and when she comes out, pretend that you just bumped into her accidentally. Then you give her the glad eye and sweet-talk her into going back inside to have a chocolate nut sundae.

“Speaking down from the top of the moving van, the director explains the action to the nth degree, how they’re to walk, look, and carry themselves. So while
the crowd stands gawking and making jokes, the leading man and lady get all set to act.

“Now, for this scene both the leading man and lady are dressed in normal everyday clothes, except that hers are sparkling new. From the shoes on her feet to the ribbon in her hair, which is black and glossy like an Indian’s, she’s dressed in the latest fashion. She’s also young and very good-looking, and now as she comes sashaying up the street to the ice-cream parlor the cameramen are grinding like they’re grabbing at a dream that’s walking. Then some jokers standing across the street in weird costumes start yelling, ‘Whooo-wheee!’ and ‘My, oh, my!’ and ‘Now did you ever!’ But she pays them no mind, because after all it had happened so often in her everyday life. So she just heads into the ice-cream parlor like the director said and disappears….

“So then the director signals the leading man, and here he comes from the other direction, tipping along with a smile on his face and pretending that he didn’t see her. He’s just strolling along with a smile on his face and trying to play it cool in just the way the director is instructing him through his little megaphone. And for a hotel waiter who’d never done that kind of acting he’s doing fine—yeah, but then the worthy BooBoo Beaujack strikes again!

“Just as the leading man reaches the ice-cream parlor, here comes a bunch of drunks running like crazy as they splash around the corner pulling and pushing a big dirty barrel in a beat-up baby buggy. Nobody like them is supposed to be anywhere
near
the scene, but when the cameramen yell for them to get the hell out of the way the director yells orders for them to let the drunks proceed and to keep on shooting—which they do. The drunks still don’t know what it’s all about, but when they see all the folks on the other side of the street they realize that something unusual is happening and skid to a stop. And when they look around and see that the leading man has neither a false face nor a weird costume, they figure he’s fair game if only because he’s looking and acting different.

“‘Hey,’ one of them yells to the others, ‘this here dude must be some kinda freak, so let’s give him the treatment!’ And before the poor movie hero knows what’s happening, they grab him and force a dipperful of BooBoo’s hyped-up Choc—which was what was in the barrel—down his throat. And with that things
really
started going to hell.

“Now, as all you old-timers know, Choc beer has been scarce ever since Repeal, but in those days it was plentiful. And not only did it have a fine taste and bouquet, it had a kick like TNT. So when the crowd gets a whiff of what the BooBoo’s henchmen were forcing the hero to drink they react like they’re witnessing a long overdue initiation into a fraternity and rush across the street. And in a second they’re making such an uproar that when the little leading lady looks out the window and sees what’s happening to her leading man she figures that once the drunks gets through with him they’ll be coming after her. So she slips out of the back door and disappears.

“But although the scene was getting truly rowdy, the drunks were simply using the leading man to have what they considered to be some innocent fun. It’s when Miss Brilliantine shows up and decides to go them one better that things get really nasty.

“Like her twin sister, Miss Thomasina, Miss Brilliantine is big, overbearing as a lady bear, good-looking in a damn-near-white sort of fashion, but far from bright, and the kind of woman who’ll do
anything just
to be outrageous. So when she spies the movie director standing up high against the sky while his buddies below are busy pointing that camera like they were a couple of mad-dog machine-gunners who had orders to shoot anything that moves and intend to do it, Miss Brilliantine decides to steal the entire scene by bringing the movie hero down. That way she figures to get herself both some cheap notoriety and demonstrate her talent for acting.

“So with that hungry camera swinging up and down and around and around like the unblinking eye of ever-watching God, Miss Brilliantine starts knocking folks out of her way until she reaches the leading man. And when the drunks give way so they can see what she’s about to do, she puts a headlock on the poor man and goes into her act.

“First she yanks the man around and yells, ‘Come to mama, good-looking, and let’s swap some slobber!’ Then she makes him kiss her square on her nasty-talking mouth. And then, with the crowd urging her on by making juicy kissing sounds, she purses up her lips and blinks her big mascaraed eyes and starts pretending that she’s as shy a young gal as the little leading lady—only with great big ants in her great big pants. Then, squeezing him in a bear hold, she does a take-off on Theda Bara by tossing the crowd a high-toned over-the-shoulder stare. Then she says to the poor bewildered bug-eyed man, ‘Kiss me, you fool!’ And then she gets to giggling and tries to smother the man with her great big pair of jugs while she blinks her eyes and coos, ‘Oh, please,
please
be good to me, daddy, ‘cause I’m really very young.’ Then she grabs his head and damn near suffocates the man with a half a yard of tongue! And when the crowd applauds she hugs him even tighter while she does the shimmy and whines, ‘Oh, daddy, daddy,
daddy
, I’ve never,
never
had it so fine!’ and tries to break his back with a double-Georgia grind!

“With this the crowd screams even louder and the poor man looks like he wants to hang his head and die, but being a gentleman and realizing that she’s playing to the crowd and clowning for the camera, he just shakes his head real disgusted. But with the crowd begging for some more, Miss Brilliantine decides to knock them for a loop by getting real lowdown and personal. That’s right, and the camera keeps on grinding.

“So now she looks at the hero with those phony goo-goo eyes and starts to fumbling for his fly. And even though all that Choc has left him groggy, he puts up some resistance—which is exactly what she’s hoping for. But when she looks
around to see if the camera is recording what she’s doing to the man, all at once she throws back her head and starts screaming bloody murder at the three white movie men. But the camera just keeps on grinding.

“Now she has the hero in a bear hug and holding on while he’s still acting like a gentleman even as he tries to get away. But then the crowd whirls around and he sees it gawking and making room for something that’s beyond his range of vision. And the next thing he knows they’re laughing and scraping their fingers at Miss Brilliantine—because all of a sudden the camera’s deserted her and gone to pointing toward the
ground
, where it’s making eye-to-eye contact with a long, lean, blue-tick hound!

“That’s right,” Cliofus laughed as he paused to sip some water, “she’s been upstaged by a
hound!
Now, no one knows where he came from, or just when he hit the scene, but with so many weird-looking humans cutting the fool he has his tail between his legs and his ears drooping down. And as he stares from mask to mask he looks pure-dee bewildered. But then he sees that except for this one big woman who seems to want to lynch him all the rest are warm and friendly he decides to hang around. And besides that, he’s reminded that he’s hungry and would like to eat when all at once he smells some red-eye gravy on somebody’s smelly feet. So even though Miss Brilliantine is still after his hide he realizes that the camera is recording his each and every twitch, and he makes a decision which for a dog in his position is a very serious move. Meanwhile the camera keeps a-grinding.

“So now with Miss Brilliantine still ranting and raving and demanding his meat, he stakes his life on a policy of do-or-die and decides to do a number in the style of Petey, the white-haired bulldog of the
Our Gang
comedy fame, the one with a thick black ring around his eye.
And
since it’s his first performance before an audience of such overwhelming size, he decides that the best way to please both the camera and the crowd is by doing what comes naturally. So with his brow wrinkled up and his ears laid back he starts turning second-hand slow in a perfect circle. Then, pointing his nose upwind and buckling down in what turns out to be a spectacular feat of concentration, he proceeds to demonstrate his finest form in laying down a doggie-do which would have been worth a cool fifty dollars if the dog-catcher caught him at it.

“Well, the crowd was amazed, but when Miss Brilliantine gets a glimpse of his heroic production she damn near busts her britches. But all her cursing and screaming at the hound could hardly be heard as the crowd goes wild over his bit of natural acting. And with folks applauding his mighty effort on each and every side, the hound gives himself a whiplash shake which travels from his head to his tail and fairly beams with pride.

“‘Somebody better get that nasty son-of-a-bitch away from here,’ Miss Brilliantine screams as she aims him a kick, but she truly fails to appreciate the effect of a little public recognition on the ego of the hound. Because now that he
knows that he’s the focus of the camera and the crowd’s attention he’s not
about
to lose it. Oh, no! So before Miss Brilliantine can knock enough folks out of her way to get at him he starts to reeling off tricks faster than a riverboat gambler dealing educated cards.

“He rolls over, plays dead, turns a double somersault, and stands on his head. He walks on three legs and then on two, whirls on his toes and runs his big wet nose up Miss Brilliantine’s thigh and sniffs it. Then he hits a house fly with his tail and cuts it straight in half, crawls on his belly and wiggles his ears, and bows to the crowd for their thundering cheers. Next he runs backwards faster than the great Bojangles in his prime, slams on brakes, and stops on a dime. Then flapping his ears like he intends to fly, he reverses the field about twenty paces, cocks his leg, and without squinting an eye he knocks an iron fire hydrant straight up into the sky. And when it makes a curve and starts rocketing back to earth, he sets it a-tumbling with a vicious second burst. Then with the damnedest display of marksmanship the crowd has ever seen, he washes it down until it’s not only hound-tooth clean but changed in color from a firehouse red to a glistening green while it’s still up there circling like a fat woodchuck among a flight of pigeons. And
then
, while the crowd is running and ducking from the fall-out of his stream, he does a Houdini in the heavy cloud of steam—and the camera keeps on grinding.

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