In the Movies Read online

  The Richard Jackson Saga

  Book 4: In the Movies

  by Ed Nelson

  This is dedicated to my wife Carol for her support and help as first reader and editor.

  Also the BHS class of 1962 just because.

  “That is exactly how it happened, give or take a lie or two.”

  James Garner as Wyatt Earp describing the gun fight at the OK Corral in the movie Sunset.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Copyright August 2019 by E. E. Nelson

  Eastern Shore Publishing

  7545 Lovey Lane

  Parsonsburg, MD 21849

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  I was getting used to rising at four thirty to exercise and run before going to the studio. At the studio the first thing they announced on Monday was that we would be taking a one-week hiatus next week. We had been working long and hard, and it was time for a break.

  When we came back we would be doing our location shots. These would be out in Colorado at Mr. Easterly’s ranch. This gave me a lot to look forward to. I would have to arrange a trip home, along with a side trip to Detroit to meet Mark Downing and tour Detroit Faucets.

  In make up the Lead asked me where he could get more of the hairdryers. They were working wonders for them. I told him that they were doing the production tooling now and that the units would be available later.

  “How much later,” he inquired.

  “I would guess six months.”

  “Who should I make out the purchase order to? I need these now. The dryers will help with our shooting schedules tremendously.”

  I agreed with him after reflecting on getting thrown into a horse trough many times, and told him to make the order out to Jackson Engineering.

  His purchase order, while small for the studio was a lot to me. Ten thousand dollars would almost pay the startup costs.

  The mornings shoot went well. I think everyone was energized by the idea of having a week off. While I was waiting for my next scene, the key grip from another set approached me.

  “Rick, I’m John Dawson. We are having a problem setting up a shot over on sound Stage B. I’ve been told that you are good at mechanical things and maybe could help us.”

  We shook hands and I told him, “No guarantees, but what is the problem.”

  “We have to do a fight scene on top of a moving train. The Director wants the fight to bounce around because of the track joints. This is before welded rail so the joints really can bounce the car around.”

  I thought back to the clickity clack I loved, and remembered at times how we got tossed around inside the cars, so it must really be a problem on top.

  “I’m aware of that. What have you tried so far?”

  “We tried bouncing the cameras, but that is what it looks like, the cameras moving not the people. Our next step is to have stunt men do the fight on top of a moving car with a camera suspended from the side of the boxcar.”

  “Even then to get the effect the Director is looking for, you would have to be moving at speed. That is a recipe for disaster,” I mused.

  “You got it in one.”

  “So modifying the cameras to bounce doesn’t work, using a real life set up is too dangerous. That leaves a modified boxcar. How about cutting the top off a car, mounting it on something like walking beams or cam shafts. That way you could get the amplitude and frequency that you need.”

  “Yeah, we could put airbags all around to reduce the falling danger. It would also allow us to set up several different camera angles,” added an excited Key Grip.

  He continued, “It would be cheaper and easier to build a false boxcar top than cut one off. Thanks Rick, you have been a big help.”

  I’m not sure how much I helped, but it was a fun few minutes.

  I saw Dick Wyman at lunch, he told me that he had used the hairdryer this morning after his shower and he thought it was wonderful. While we were eating, my teachers, Miss Sperry and Mr. Danson, joined us and informed me that I had passed all of my State exams including Spanish, and had now completed my freshman school year. With Spanish I had picked up an extra credit towards graduation. They wanted to know if I was ready to start the tenth grade.

  “Wow you guys know how to burst a bubble, I finish ninth grade today, and now you want me in tenth! Have you ever heard of summer vacation? On a more serious note we only have three weeks to go. I haven’t been asked to appear in anything else so it probably would be a waste of time contacting Bellefontaine for my curriculum.”

  “From a curriculum point of view we would use the California schedule. Your studies would match the test. We were lucky this year, but I hate to count on it,” Mr. Danson told me.

  “Unfortunately you are correct about not starting anything since you won’t be here. It has been a pleasure and your results have made our company look good. You will be part of our presentation for our license renewal and work with other production companies.”

  “Do I get a fee,” I asked.

  From the look on Miss Sperry’s face I had rained on her parade.

  “I was only kidding. If it would help I would give you a testimonial.”

  “That would be great,” enthused Mr. Danson!

  I had redeemed myself with Miss Sperry, how I hated to disappoint attractive women. She then let me know how pleased she was with her new hairdryer. Mr. Danson chimed in, “My wife is very pleased also, she can actually get her hair wet while showering and still only take fifteen minutes to be ready for work. She wants to know where she can buy them as gifts.”

  I had to inform them that they were six months or more from the market place.

  After lunch it was back to the set for more scenes. We spent till three o’clock doing walk throughs for tomorrows shooting. We had to be available for twelve hours a day. We rarely used all twelve hours. As a child, the labor laws applied to me. The studio got around this by tracking the hours I worked. They didn’t count the time I was waiting for other scenes. From what I was getting paid, I felt like I was the one doing the exploiting.

  Even so the State would check us out at random to make certain I wasn’t being worked to death. That in itself was a laugh. I was the fittest I had ever been in my life. The person who checked on us looked like he had been in Dachau. He looked so bad I felt sorry for him. As Mum would say he looked a decent chap.

  He
would check my hour log the studio was required to keep, and ask me how things were going. He never gave anyone a hard time. I guess if guys like him weren’t doing their job, there would be abuses like the nineteenth century.

  When the afternoon work was completed I went over to the stunt area. I actually out fought Sammy with the real swords.

  I got off to a fast start. With my rapier in sixte and posted, I performed a Balestra followed by a lunge and a counter beat which disarmed him.

  In English I started with my sword blade straight out and pointing slightly up in the sixte position, which was the most basic dueling start. I held it in a post which meant I had my fingers back a few inches on the hilt to give me a little more extension, this surrendered some strength and accuracy, but was needed for what I was about to try. I had backed off about ten feet which seemed like a lot but could be overcome quickly.

  I performed a forward leap, the Balestra, and then lunged directly at him. As I landed in position I circled my sword under his and went up sharply causing his sword to fly out of his hand. It was the first time I had ever had him at such a disadvantage. I think he was more excited than I was. I guess it validated his teaching.

  Then he proceeded to soundly thrash me. Well, at least score more hits. He was still the teacher, and I the student.

  When it was time to lift, I was able to add more weights. I really had to buy new shirts!

  Chapter 2

  Boxing was getting to be fun. Coach Palmer and I had a talk about what I was trying to achieve in my lessons. The one thing we both agreed on was that I wouldn’t try to turn professional. From my point of view there were two reasons, the first and main reason was self-defense. The second was to have the skill available if needed in a role. He thought those very reasonable goals. He thought I had the basics down. What I needed now was varied experience. This would involve me going up against various opponents of different skill levels.

  He added one additional thought. “Boxing is a sport with rules. For self-defense you need to fight with no rules.”

  “What would you suggest?”

  “If you had the time you could attend Ed Parker’s Kenpo Karate School in Pasadena. The only problem is you would have to train almost every day for a year to become proficient. I think your best bet is hiring an unarmed combat instructor, someone who trained Marines, not Army.”

  “Why choose a Marine trainer and not an Army instructor?”

  “Marines exist to fight, Semper Fi!”

  I think there might be a bias at work here, but he is the coach.

  “Do you know of anyone available?”

  “Of course I know someone, me! I’m a certified Black Belt trainer from my active duty days.”

  So now I had unarmed combat added to my training regime. His hourly rate was very reasonable.

  With twenty eight hours of training he could get me to the Tan belt level, another twenty five hours to the Grey. This would make me proficient in the basic techniques. Above that were the Green, Brown and Black belts, but time would run out on the movie schedule before I could receive that training, unless I wanted to stay in California and finish the levels.

  I told him that I would be satisfied with the Tan and Grey belts for now. Not that I would get a belt, just the training. We agreed that I would box various opponents, after the hiatus and location shoot, for two weeks. We would add an hour a day for unarmed combat during that time. When that was finished we would use two hours a day. That way I would be at the Tan level within five weeks. We would have to see what time, if any remained to work on the Grey level.

  Of course it all depended on how quick I could pick things up. My condition was better than most Marine recruits going into basic so I had an advantage there. It would all depend on how fast I could master the techniques.

  I stopped at the studio travel department and had them arrange my flight home on Saturday and return to Denver airport Sunday week. On returning to my apartment I made several calls. First I called my reporter friends to check in. None of them needed anything from me except a statement on Paul Grant.

  We agreed that while I had professional disagreements with Paul Grant’s behavior on the set I was totally shocked and dismayed about his personal life. I was sorry that he was dead, I would not wish that on anyone, but at the same time you sow what you reap. For each of the reporters we came up with a slight twist of the words so it didn’t look like a planned statement but a frank interview.

  The reporter for the Los Angeles Examiner told me that the gang wars had fizzled out and that the gangs were puzzled by what started it. Grants death was the opening blow, but no one knew who had struck or why. Grant was considered a low level dealer selling to people on the sets, and no one was fighting for that territory. However, once he was killed they had to react or appear weak.

  At the same time they were trying to figure out who had started it. Since no one was trying to replace him, the gangs were at a loss to explain the conflicts start, so they just let it die out. It had been hard on the people caught in the middle, but perceived as a cost of doing business.

  Officially the police were pleased with the cessation of violence. Unofficially as one officer put, “It’s a shame all of the scum buckets didn’t kill each other.”

  I called Anna Romanov. Her social secretary put me right through.

  “Richard, I am so glad you called. I’ve outlined my goals with my new business. I’m going to take many different household products, have a design variation with my name, and sell them as the Romanov collection.”

  She said this in a rush. You could hear the excitement.

  “I’m going to Detroit Faucet this coming week if you could break free. You could spend some time with our designer.”

  “Can’t the designer come to me?”

  “Yes she can, but think about this, you are about to put your name on a product manufactured by someone else. Won’t you want to make sure that it is a real plant run by real people who know what they are doing? You have to audition for parts. They should have to audition for you. The only difference is they can’t bring their factory to you.”

  “Oh, I see what you mean. It could be fun. I have never been in a factory before.”

  “Are you available next Thursday? If you are I would like to make us an appointment, but let’s make you a mystery guest. That way there won’t be any reporters there.”

  “I like that Richard, this will be fun. I can fly in on Wednesday and stay at a hotel near the airport and you can pick me up. Then I will fly home on Thursday night.”

  “Okay, let me make a phone call to make certain that Mark Downing the majority owner and our Designer, Sally Enright are both available. I’ll call you right back.”

  I called Mark, he and Sally would be available. I did tell him that I might have a surprise guest. He wanted to know who it was, but I told him it wouldn’t then be a surprise. After calling Anna back, and giving her our home number in Bellefontaine so she could relay her travel arrangements, I called home.

  Mum and Dad were thrilled with the idea of me coming home. When I informed them of my Detroit plans they wanted to join the trip. There was no reason they couldn’t. We would also drive up on Wednesday evening, stay at the same hotel as Anna and go to the plant as a group. They were pretty certain that Mrs. Hernandez would stay overnight with the kids.

  Dad wanted to know if I had discussed any financial items with Miss Romanov, he was relieved when I told him no. He wanted to wait till we were in Detroit to have any serious discussions. He had no idea if she had real expectations.

  Next on the agenda was the hairdryer. Dad had heard back from American Style. They would like to open discussions for an exclusive license. He asked me to get as much feedback as I could in writing. The actual order from the Warner Brothers make up department would strengthen our hand.

  He had sent off the gifts I had requested, including one each to Elizabeth and Ike. It seemed strange sending a hairdryer to a bald guy, but
I didn’t want him to feel left out if he learned I had sent one to the Queen.

  We tossed around ideas of what we should ask for, but left it undecided.

  We also discussed me buying a house here in California. We decided to put it on hold. I would be coming home in a month or so, the Paul Grant situation appeared to be settled, and I hadn’t any movie offers to keep me here.

  After that Dad asked if I had planned a trip to Rowland Heights. I hadn’t yet, but improvised and told him, that after shooting tomorrow I was taking a trip down there. Dad treated it with the respect it deserved, none.

  “Please do it for me Rick.”

  As we were about to hang up, Dad added, “Watch your mail box we have forwarded an interesting newspaper article to you.” He wouldn’t tell me anymore.

  I called Nina. She updated me on her school day, boring, then the social events of her day. It doesn’t help when you don’t know the players. In turn I told her of my day and how I was starting a self-defense class.

  I did tell her of my trip home next week. I also let her know I was going to Detroit, but didn’t say anything about Miss Romanov joining my family. If nothing came of it I didn’t want to start any rumors. I had already seen how things got around in this town.

  Overall I don’t think I missed school very much. I was working in an adult world. It was more interesting. Was I becoming an old man before my time? What nonsense. I’m only fifteen!

  Later that night I started a new thriller. The hero was sent to Crab Key to investigate the disappearance of fellow operative, Commander Strangways.

  Chapter 3

  Tuesday started out fine. After our morning rituals Dick and I headed our separate way to the studio. We pulled out of the apartment parking lot at the same time and I tried to get him to drag, but he would have none of it. Just as well I probably would’ve got a ticket.

  At the front gate to the studio they told me a Mr. Baxter would like to see me at the front office entrance. This was my agent, John Baxter. I wonder what he wanted to see me about. He had warned me that it could be as much as a year before I had another movie offer. If I didn’t have one by a year I probably wasn’t going to get one.