Part Five:
Read Part Four here.
And now Josephine Courtney, the star of the film, was locked in her trailer, drinking whisky and drumming her well-polished nails across her makeup counter.
“He should have at least called me by now,” she muttered to herself. “He knows how much I need him now, out in the middle of this desert … at the complete mercy of that hack …”
Josephine couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped up from her chair in a frenzy and ran out of the trailer. Her assistant immediately stepped up to her side, a notepad in his hand.
“Are you returning to the set, Miss Courtney? Mr. Sydney said we really need to finish this scene tonight.”
Josephine let out a long and throaty laugh.
“I’m not getting anywhere near that set. The state of my nerves, I’d fall into a hundred little pieces just to see that bastard’s face. Take a walk with me, Jimmy. I need someone to talk to.”
And so Josephine swaggered off into the desert, the bottle of whisky sloshing about in her hand. Jimmy followed along nervously. She had said she wanted someone to talk to, but it soon became apparent that talking was was a relative word to Miss Josephine Courtney. They were fifteen minutes into the desert, under a deep black sky studded with thousands of stars, and Josephine hadn’t said a single word to her befuddled assistant.
Jimmy screwed up his courage. “Miss Courtney, do you know where …”
“Quiet, my boy. Can’t you see how beautiful the stars are? It takes my breath away, really.”
She paused for a minute, but then the spirit of the evening seemed to inspire her to continue.
“I came to this town a lot like those stars. So distant. Uncomplicated. Maybe hopeful, maybe pure. Right off the bus from Goodrich, Nebraska.
“It’s ironic, now they call me a star. The whole world calls me a star. And I feel as much a star as this dirt.”
Josephine sobbed faintly. Jimmy looked away, kicking a stone as they walked along.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I didn’t want to do it. Arvil Jonesworth told me if I did it that once, I’d never have to worry again.
“And it kills me to think that Hector trusted me. He’s the only reason I’m alive, why I’m stuck on this stupid set and talking to you right now, Jimmy. Just last Saturday, at the Okonomis, it was almost midnight, and we were walking down to the pool. Out of the blue, he gave me a flower. One single gardenia. And then he said he loved me.”
Josephine stumbled a bit and groaned. The tears were now freely flowing down her face.
“Why hasn’t he even called? He knows I’m so fragile right now.”
Jimmy was frantically searching through his pockets for a handkerchief or some tissues. A hectic, disappointed look came to his face when he discovered that he had forgotten to bring any along.
“Arvil said that dealing with those men was the only way to get the part. But I know, if I had told Hector, he would have never let me.
“But I did it. I had to do it. I didn’t ride a stinking bus through every backwater town in Nebraska, Colorado, Utah and Nevada to lose the biggest chance in my life to that no-talent Linda LaTree.”
Josephine’s voice faded into silence. After five minutes of aimless walking, Jimmy began to look worriedly at the empty dark hills now surrounding them. “Are you sure we’re going to be able to find our way back, Miss Courtney? I can’t even see the lights from the set anymore.”
“What does that matter? If I go missing, the damn insurance company will have a thousand black helicopters combing the state looking for me.”
But just then, a sudden ring echoed through the empty desert air. A look of joy spread across Josephine’s face. She dashed away her whisky bottle and began digging through her purse.
“It’s him, it’s Hector. Oh, sweet, sweet Hector. He knew how much I was waiting to hear from him.”
With a ravished look on her face, Josephine answered the phone. “Hector, darling, how could you keep me waiting so long?”
But then her face turned to stone. The phone dropped from her hand. A wild, primeval scream echoed through the dark canyon.
And just as quickly the dry empty spaces turned the passionate wail into a ragged, desiccated sigh. Jimmy looked on helplessly as Josephine Courtney fell lifeless to the desert floor.
Look for Part Six on The Midlothian Campaign.
And now Josephine Courtney, the star of the film, was locked in her trailer, drinking whisky and drumming her well-polished nails across her makeup counter.
“He should have at least called me by now,” she muttered to herself. “He knows how much I need him now, out in the middle of this desert … at the complete mercy of that hack …”
Josephine couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped up from her chair in a frenzy and ran out of the trailer. Her assistant immediately stepped up to her side, a notepad in his hand.
“Are you returning to the set, Miss Courtney? Mr. Sydney said we really need to finish this scene tonight.”
Josephine let out a long and throaty laugh.
“I’m not getting anywhere near that set. The state of my nerves, I’d fall into a hundred little pieces just to see that bastard’s face. Take a walk with me, Jimmy. I need someone to talk to.”
And so Josephine swaggered off into the desert, the bottle of whisky sloshing about in her hand. Jimmy followed along nervously. She had said she wanted someone to talk to, but it soon became apparent that talking was was a relative word to Miss Josephine Courtney. They were fifteen minutes into the desert, under a deep black sky studded with thousands of stars, and Josephine hadn’t said a single word to her befuddled assistant.
Jimmy screwed up his courage. “Miss Courtney, do you know where …”
“Quiet, my boy. Can’t you see how beautiful the stars are? It takes my breath away, really.”
She paused for a minute, but then the spirit of the evening seemed to inspire her to continue.
“I came to this town a lot like those stars. So distant. Uncomplicated. Maybe hopeful, maybe pure. Right off the bus from Goodrich, Nebraska.
“It’s ironic, now they call me a star. The whole world calls me a star. And I feel as much a star as this dirt.”
Josephine sobbed faintly. Jimmy looked away, kicking a stone as they walked along.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I didn’t want to do it. Arvil Jonesworth told me if I did it that once, I’d never have to worry again.
“And it kills me to think that Hector trusted me. He’s the only reason I’m alive, why I’m stuck on this stupid set and talking to you right now, Jimmy. Just last Saturday, at the Okonomis, it was almost midnight, and we were walking down to the pool. Out of the blue, he gave me a flower. One single gardenia. And then he said he loved me.”
Josephine stumbled a bit and groaned. The tears were now freely flowing down her face.
“Why hasn’t he even called? He knows I’m so fragile right now.”
Jimmy was frantically searching through his pockets for a handkerchief or some tissues. A hectic, disappointed look came to his face when he discovered that he had forgotten to bring any along.
“Arvil said that dealing with those men was the only way to get the part. But I know, if I had told Hector, he would have never let me.
“But I did it. I had to do it. I didn’t ride a stinking bus through every backwater town in Nebraska, Colorado, Utah and Nevada to lose the biggest chance in my life to that no-talent Linda LaTree.”
Josephine’s voice faded into silence. After five minutes of aimless walking, Jimmy began to look worriedly at the empty dark hills now surrounding them. “Are you sure we’re going to be able to find our way back, Miss Courtney? I can’t even see the lights from the set anymore.”
“What does that matter? If I go missing, the damn insurance company will have a thousand black helicopters combing the state looking for me.”
But just then, a sudden ring echoed through the empty desert air. A look of joy spread across Josephine’s face. She dashed away her whisky bottle and began digging through her purse.
“It’s him, it’s Hector. Oh, sweet, sweet Hector. He knew how much I was waiting to hear from him.”
With a ravished look on her face, Josephine answered the phone. “Hector, darling, how could you keep me waiting so long?”
But then her face turned to stone. The phone dropped from her hand. A wild, primeval scream echoed through the dark canyon.
And just as quickly the dry empty spaces turned the passionate wail into a ragged, desiccated sigh. Jimmy looked on helplessly as Josephine Courtney fell lifeless to the desert floor.
Look for Part Six on The Midlothian Campaign.
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