"What?"
"Stop saying 'what,' " he ordered, turning around. "Now don't tell them any more than they need to know about you. And do what the director wants quickly, without questions, understand? You'll be here most of the day. I'll pick you up at five."
"You're not coming in with me?"
"I have other clients, other meetings," he said testily. "I can't be baby-sitting you. You want to be a movie star, this is how you start."
"I don't want to be a movie star," I said gazing at the worn-looking doorway to the dull brown stucco building. I noticed there were no windows.
"So? You'll grin and bear it, fame and fortune. I should be so unlucky." He opened my door. "Come on, get going. I'll be right here at five," he said and stepped back.
I got out slowly, too slowly for him. He reached in and pulled me by the arm.
"Will you get going," he said. "Everyone has to do his part to keep this operation going. You want to be with us, earn your keep or go home?" he
threatened. "Now what's it going to be?"
"I'm just going to make a fool of myself," I said.
"So what? Besides," he said with a sly smile on his lips, "something tells me you won't make a fool of yourself. In fact, you might just be a bigger star than your mother will ever be. And then you'll only have me to thank."
He got into the car again and nodded at the studio door.
"The director's name is Parker, Lewis Parker."
He turned the car around and drove out of the yard, leaving me standing in front of the studio. I took a deep breath, swallowed back my confusion and fear, and went to the door. It opened to a dim, shallow hallway. There was a very tiny office on the right with paper piled on the small desk and stacks of what looked like scripts scattered on the floor. A poster of a woman clad in a see-through nightgown, hovering over a man wearing handcuffs was on the wall above the desk. The poster read
SLEEP WALKER. SHE WAS HIS BEST NIGHTMARE.
I continued down the hallway to another door above which was an unlit red light bulb with the words DO NOT ENTER WHEN LIT beneath it. I knocked on the door and waited and then knocked again. Maybe there was no one here, I thought. It looked deserted.
Suddenly, the door was opened and a curlyhaired, young black man in dungarees and a loose fitting T-shirt greeted me.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"I'm Melody Simon," I said, my voice cracking.
"Oh, yeah. Good. Parker, the other girl is here," he called over his shoulder. "I'm Harris. Follow me," he said, turning back to me.
"Get her in here," someone shouted from behind him and Harris stepped back, smiling.
"Come on," he said.
I entered slowly. There were wires everywhere and lights on poles. I saw the cameras, three of them all pointing toward what looked like a bedroom, where a cameraman was adjusting some lights. A very buxom platinum blond--haired girl who didn't look much older than I was sat on the edge of the bed, her arms behind her as she leaned back, her breasts bare. She had a tattoo of what looked like a snake coming up and out of her cleavage. She wore nothing but a pair of flimsy panties, and she chewed bubble gum, blowing a bubble and snapping it before wiping it back in with her tongue. I must have gasped aloud.
A plump bald-headed man spun around in a chair.
"Over here," he called. "I'm Lewis Parker. You the girl Marlin sent? What's your name again?" he asked.
I was still too stunned to speak. I shook my head instead.
"Hey," he said. "We haven't got time to waste. I have to do four scenes and two setups today."
When he rose from his chair, I could see he was very fat and I wondered how he'd fit in the chair. He waddled rather than walked toward me and stopped, drinking me in from head to foot, a pleased smile spreading like melted butter over his jowls and thick, fleshy lips.
Because he was so heavy, his eyes looked small, sunken in his large head.
"Marlin was right," he said. "A looker. Great. Delores," he cried and a woman who looked like she was in her fifties, but who also had bleached blond hair and wore lots of makeup, came out from behind a rack of costumes. "Get her dressed and on the set, will ya? Make sure she looks . . innocent. I like that. Good."