Alice in La La Land (25 page)

'Collar that Dormouse!' the Queen shrieked out.

Lewis Carroll,
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Half a dozen actresses were assembled in Zippy Goldman's waiting room when Alice returned. She recognised two of them as being quite famous up-and-comers, and also noticed Molly, the friendly redhead with the frayed backpack, sitting in the far corner, her head down in a paperback.

These actresses were exceedingly thin and confident. One of them flexed prettily near the potted palm, script pages flapping in her manicured hand. Alice ignored them, walking straight past the group and opened the door to the audition room. She heard one of the women behind her gasp at such a serious breach of protocol.

Celestia Bannow was halfway through the monologue that Alice had attempted less than one hour before. She was crying impressively through her waterproof mascara, wearing a quirky crimson dress that offset her gorgeously high-lit tresses.

Conrad looked both shocked and disgusted to see her. He muttered something foul under his breath. For once, Celestia appeared to lose her train of thought. She murmured something about glue-sniffing then stopped completely.

'I apologise, Celestia,' Alice began, walking across the sea grass carpet into the centre of the room. 'This will only take a moment. I know how adept you are at switching it on and off; I'm sure that picking up again will be a breeze. She's just that good,' said Alice, addressing the room.

'Zippy, can you call security?' Marty called, then added, 'Alice, are you on medication?'

'No,' said Alice.

'She's nuts,' Marty remarked to Conrad.

'I apologise,' Conrad stuttered, looking exceedingly uncomfortable.

'Security is on their way,' Zippy announced, a cell phone clamped to her ear.

'There is something I need to say,' Alice persisted. 'It just can't wait.' Brandon looked officious and annoyed, shaking his head briskly and making horrified tutting noises.

'Oh, be quiet, you silly poof,' Alice retorted.

'You can't say that!' gasped the man called Israel.

'I can and I just did. Now listen . . .'

'Security is on the way up right now,' said Zippy, peering curiously at Alice.

'Conrad, I apologise for screwing up the audition and causing you embarrassment.'

'You're right, darling, she's lost it,' Celestia said quietly.

'Darling?' Alice exclaimed, looking at Conrad. 'When did this happen?'

'None of your business,' Conrad said.

'I see.' She looked at Celestia for a moment. The actress's eyes flashed proprietorially. 'Now where was I? Yes, saying sorry. But if I could just bring a couple of points
to your attention.' She cleared her throat, aware she had very little time. 'Ladies and gentlemen, you may be interested to know a little about your director's recent history.' Alice took a deep breath. '
Citrus Days of the Marzipan Pig
was an original Conrad Beest production funded entirely by myself and my parents. I personally used my wages from a talking horse film to contribute financially. My father is a retired train-driver, just so you understand his financial status. He also has a passion for bee-keeping, orchids and exotic fish. That's by the by.' She took a large deep breath.

'Ken Evans, my dad, has recently been diagnosed with prostate cancer and needs a serious operation with a top surgeon, so, understandably, he needs his ten thousand dollars back, for treatment and accommodation and what have you.' She turned to look at Conrad. 'After you walked out on the
Marzipan Pig
to pursue your career in Europe, I vacated
our
house, had to forfeit the lease, and went to work in the West Wollongong Tasty-Time Cake Shop. For
eleven months
. That's a lot of cream buns and vanilla slices. For your interest, I had to move in with my parents so that I could repay them ten of the twenty thousand dollars that we jointly owe. The cake shop and some pineapple chunks courtesy of Bunny Gange made it possible.'

'Bunny what now?' interrupted Zippy, mystified, her earrings jingling.

'Pineapple chunks?' piped the man called Kevin.

'A TVC. Of the lowest order I might add,' said Alice lightly. 'Believe me, I was scoffed at in the aisles of the Bi-Lo supermarket often enough. I'm sure my old drama school buddies thought it was pathetic I'd sunk so low, after the highs of
Cornucopia
.'

'When
is
that scheduled for release?' asked Bitsy.

'Of course, if I'd accepted the lead role in
Starmap 3000
, things would have been a lot easier financially. But to honour my commitment to you and to the
Marzipan Pig
, Conrad, I let that job go.'

'
Starmap 3000
? Really? Alice, what a bummer. That's going to be huge,' Zippy interjected. Alice ploughed on.

'So, while you've been out working, wooing the hottest Australian actress since Nicole Kidman,' she said, looking over at Celestia, who appeared to be combing her hair with her fingers, 'and apparently buying a whole heap of designer clothes, I've been sleeping in a fold-out bed in Wollongong, selling sausage rolls, and more recently, warding off a couple of bellicose cats in an apartment near the Miracle Mile. All in a crazy attempt to raise the rest of the money that
we
owe my parents.'

'Are you taping this?' a male voice called from the back of the room.

Two security guards arrived and quickly identified Alice as the source of the trouble. They wore fawn uniforms and wide brown belts with radios attached. One of them was very tall with buck teeth and the other squat and bald with jutting pectoral muscles. They silently escorted her to the door.

'I'm almost done here,' Alice politely addressed the uniformed men. 'Conrad, it's simple. You owe my father that money. And I am personally going to see to it that you pay him back,' said Alice firmly. She broke free from the security guards and lunged at Conrad with a piece of paper. He flinched momentarily as if it were a gun.

'Here are his bank details. I'm begging you to do the
right thing.' The security guards closed in on her more roughly. 'I'm sure ten thousand is nothing to you, but it would mean a great deal to my mum and dad.'

'I told you Alice, I don't owe you anything,' Conrad laughed incredulously, letting the piece of paper fall to the floor. 'And clearly you need help.' His face was impassive and his eyes were as flat as glass. 'Let's put this behind us and move on, shall we?' he addressed the others. 'With any luck, she'll go and take her Prozac,' he muttered under his breath.

Down, down, down. Would the fall never
come to an end?

Lewis Carroll,
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Alice stood very still by the lift. The number of actresses in the waiting room had grown from seven to at least a dozen. They had fallen silent as she'd emerged from Zippy's office, and most looked pleased to see a member of the competition in serious trouble. Two were positively bursting with schadenfreude and whispered to each other like primary-school girls. Alice recognised the Kitten, who coldly looked her up and down, and then turned away. Alice squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, then focused on the floor ahead.

The two security guards immediately returned to a conversation they'd presumably been having earlier about pot-bellied pigs.

'Clooney's got one,' said the shorter man.

'Had one, you mean. Anyway, it sure cost him,' replied the other, smiling in spite of his large teeth.

'How much?' Shorty asked, checking his security radio was working.

'No, you dope. Cost him his girlfriend,' corrected Buck Tooth.

The short man snorted with derision. 'Like Clooney
doesn't have a million girls lined up round the block . . . Miss, are you all right?' he said, noticing that Alice was crying.

'Fine,' she nodded, staring straight ahead at the lift. 'Just a head-cold. I'm fine.' She willed the lift to arrive so that she could escape her audience with a modicum of dignity. She felt exhausted, and longed for a cardboard box to lie down in. Her life suddenly had all the appeal of a dirty swimming pool, and she tried to visualise a creepy-crawly restoring the fetid water to clarity. She had just committed career suicide and her captors were chatting about the desirability of domesticated pigs. It was all too strange.

As Alice reached into her satchel for a tissue, she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She flinched involuntarily as if she'd been jabbed with a syringe. It was Zippy.

'Hey, Zippy, I'm so sorry,' whispered Alice. 'Sorry I wrecked your morning.' Alice sniffed rapidly, trying to contain her tears.

'Oh, honey, don't worry about it. I still think you're adorable.' She paused for a moment. 'Alice, I've sent your manager an email. Just . . . well, really because I'm
concerned
about you and I'd hate to feel irresponsible, not doing anything about it. I've let her know what happened today, and hopefully she'll be able to help you out in some way. Okay?' Zippy rubbed her arm sympathetically.

Alice winced. That was all she needed. A manager brandishing a Prozac prescription.

'Thanks Zippy,' she said, managing a faint smile. 'That's a big help.'

The lift doors closed and finally there was silence. Alice avoided making eye contact with the other occupants and
tried to shrink into the corner. She imagined she was a small cactus in a desert somewhere, Mexico maybe, and that she'd never encountered anything or anyone by the name of Conrad in her short and self-sufficient existence. Her life was solely about waiting for rain, providing a resting spot for the odd desert bird, and observing the quiet changes in the surrounding sand.

The polyphonic cacophony of a cell phone broke her reverie. The tall security guard cleared his throat and made no move to answer it.

'You gonna get that?' asked the shorter man.

'Nuh,' said the tall one, sucking on his teeth. 'That's my wife's personalised ring. It'll only be more of the same.'

'Huh,' acknowledged the short man.

The doors re-opened and the security guards flanked Alice, making sure she exited at ground level.

An actress of remarkable beauty and stature came through the automatic doors, heading toward the lift. Alice flashed her security guards what she hoped was a captivating smile, pretending to be as famous as Britney Spears, who, she imagined, needed personal escorts to her screen tests. The tall security guard looked bewildered. They watched Alice vacate the premises then turned and headed back inside.

Alice emerged into bright sunlight on North Beverly Boulevard and did a double-take. Nick's rented van was illegally parked on the sidewalk and he was about to be arrested. A crowd of onlookers had gathered to watch.

'Nick!' Alice shouted, running over to him. 'What happened? Are you okay? What's going on?'

'Excuse me, ma'am,' said one of the policeman
holding up his hand. He was a large man who wore his uniform tight across his middle. 'Can you step back please?' He paused. 'Well,' he said clucking with surprise, 'if it isn't Miss Jay-walker herself.' He shook his head. 'Why am I not surprised to see you?'

'Oh, it's
you,
' she cried. 'What are you doing to my boyfriend?'

'I'm writing him a ticket. As you can see he's parked,
literally
, on the sidewalk. That happens to be an offence,' he chided.

'Yes, but officer, if you'd hear me out, I thought she was in possible danger, and I had something important to tell her . . .' Nick pleaded. He was perspiring and his shirt was hanging out. He looked as though he were trying to stay calm, but failing utterly.

'So you thought, "Sure, nowhere to park. Oh hell, I'll go ahead and park on a sidewalk, doesn't matter if I run someone down in the process." Look buddy, I don't know how they park in Dublin. Maybe you just park your vehicle anywhere . . . inside a pub, up a tree, who knows? In LA, we consider it dangerous,' he concluded, continuing to write the ticket.

'Nick,' interjected Alice.

'Are you okay, Alice?' he asked. 'I was so worried after the altercation with that freak, Lenny, I just followed right after you. I thought you were going to murder . . . er, I mean . . . you know . . .' Nick glanced at the policeman, who stopped writing and raised an eyebrow in Alice's direction.

'No, I'm all right,' Alice replied. 'I'm sorry you were worried. Something came over me and . . . I burst into
Celestia Bannow's audition, can you believe that? I told my whole story to everyone in the casting office. I explained to them about the play, and the money owing my parents, how I turned down
Starmap 3000
. . .'

'See,' said the policeman pointing a nuggety finger at Alice, 'you shouldna done that. That show is awesome.'

'Believe me, officer, you're not the first person to have told me that,' Alice sighed.

'So what happened?' Nick asked impatiently.

Alice paused, aware the policeman was waiting for her to answer as well. 'Actually,' she said, looking just to the left of Nick's eye-line, 'they all took it pretty well, and Conrad said he'd give it careful consideration.' She dusted some imaginary lint off her rose-patterned dress. 'I think I got away with it,' she concluded. Alice couldn't bring herself to admit just how badly everything had panned out. It was a bit like a car accident. Maybe I'm in shock, she thought. She would certainly be better at facing the consequences once she'd eaten something. An In-N-Out burger, perhaps? Perhaps she and Nick could head over to the drive-thru on Sunset right now?

Nick looked relieved. 'Well, that's a good start, I guess. But you think a role in
Lithium
is off the cards?'

'Ah, yes, I reckon I can kiss that one goodbye,' she concluded hastily.

The policeman cleared his throat. Alice turned to face him. 'This is my fault, I'm afraid. I am so sorry, Officer . . .'

'Grady,' said the policeman, putting away his pad. 'Lady, you've had some tough breaks, I'll give you that . . .' he paused for a moment, then said gruffly, 'Anyway, you seem to have a nice guy on your side here, so maybe your
luck's about to change.' He turned to face Nick and waved a meaty finger in admonishment. 'Look . . . from one Irish guy to another, I'm going to caution you, but let you go. I'm curious, though. What the hell was so important you hadda park on the damned sidewalk?' he asked.

'Thank you, Officer Grady. I appreciate it. And now, to answer your question . . .' He turned to Alice. 'Alice, I've been trying to tell you for hours. Work called. Something really urgent has come up. Well, the other woman in my department who's been covering for me has gone into labour about eight weeks early and I've got to fly back to Dublin.' He looked flustered.

'When?' she asked apprehensively.

'In fact,' he said, looking at his watch, 'if the officer will kindly allow me to go, right this very minute.'