By Myself and Then Some (19 page)

By now Howard of course knew something was going on and he didn’t like it. As we neared the end of the picture, he summoned me out to his house one night. I was petrified. Just he and his wife, Slim, were there. He sat me down and began. ‘When you started to work you were marvelous – paying attention, working hard. I thought, “This girl is really something.” Then you started fooling around with Bogart. For one thing, it means nothing to him – this sort of thing happens all the time, he’s not serious about you. When the picture’s over, he’ll forget all about it – that’s the last you’ll ever see of him. You’re throwing away a chance anyone would give their right arm for. I’m not going to put up with it. I tell you I’ll just send you to Monogram [the studio that made the lowest form of pictures at that time]. I’ll wash my hands of you.’ Of course I burst into tears – tried to control myself, which only made it worse. Slim said, ‘But what do you do, Howard, if you’re stuck on a guy? How do you handle it?’ She was trying to help me. Howard would have none of it. ‘You just play the scenes, do your work. You can laugh and have a good time, but just remember that when the picture’s over,
it
will be over.’ I told him I didn’t want to disappoint him, I was trying hard, I loved the work. Bogie had been wonderful to me and we had so much fun together, but I’d try to be better – ‘Honestly, Howard.’

I was so upset when I left – in such a state. I was sure he’d send me to Monogram – that my career was over before it had begun. And didn’t Bogie mean anything he had ever said to me – was it all just for the picture – just empty talk – did he really not care about me? I cried all night. The next morning I was a mess – eyes all puffy and red. I had to put ice on my face at 6:00 a.m. and again when I got to the studio – I didn’t want anyone to see that I’d been crying. I was determined to behave differently. Howard had almost convinced me. After all, Bogie
was a married man, he had nothing to lose by flirting with me, it was all frivolous. Only Bogie was not a frivolous man – I knew he wasn’t – and he wasn’t cheap. I was confused, terribly upset, and scared. Bogie greeted me as usual, only I was different and tried not to be. But he knew instantly. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘Nothing,’ said I. ‘C’mon – has Howard been talking to you?’ I nodded – ‘I’ll tell you later.’

Later that day when it would be least obtrusive I went into Bogie’s dressing room and told him what Howard had said to me. He stroked my hair and my face and said, ‘No, Baby, he won’t send you to Monogram – don’t you worry, you’re too valuable to him. He just can’t stand to see your attention diverted from him, that’s all – he’s jealous. And I do mean what I say to you. We just must be very careful – I don’t want you to be hurt. And if Madam [his name for Mayo] finds out, you
could
be hurt, and I couldn’t stand that. But don’t worry about Howard – his nose is out of joint, that’s all.’ And of course he was right – Howard was losing control and he didn’t like that. And I owed him a great deal – he’d done everything for me, and though I was afraid of him, I did like him and respect him. But I’d have to be more careful of my demeanor.

A few days after that we were to shoot me singing ‘How Little We Know.’ That was to be a full day of me, Hoagy, a lot of extras, and no Bogie. I had prerecorded the song and was to sing the playback, which is not easy, particularly for a novice. Howard was satisfied with the recording, though he thought one or two notes might have to be dubbed later on. Bogie and I planned to have dinner together that night, with me cooking. The menu would be hamburgers, baked potato, and a salad. A cook I wasn’t. He called me on the set in the afternoon – he’d call me at home later to make sure I’d returned.

At the end of that long day, Howard put his arm around me and said, ‘You did a really good day’s work, Betty, I’m proud of you.’ That’s the only true compliment he ever paid me. It was hard for him. I was pleased that he was satisfied – I thanked him – but he didn’t know who I was on my way to as I left the studio.

H
ow do you know when
you’re in love? I had no basis for comparison. Every emotional involvement I’d had before – like Kirk – I’d thought was love, but it wasn’t. I was almost sure I loved Bogie –
and more than that, that he was in love with me. We shared so much – understood so much about each other.

We started to drive home together, leaving the studio with Bogie in the lead in his car, me following in mine. We drove over Highland Avenue, turned right on Hollywood Boulevard to Franklin, then another right onto Selma Avenue, a small street that was curved and very residential – almost no traffic would pass through.

We’d pull over to the side and he’d come over to my car. There we would sit, holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes, saying all the things we couldn’t say at the studio. We’d sit on our street for fifteen or twenty minutes, dreading the moment of parting, then he’d get into his car and off we’d go, making the turn at Laurel Canyon Boulevard to Sunset Boulevard, continuing on until we reached Horn Avenue, where Bogie lived. As he made the turn, he’d wave his hand out the window – I’d do the same and go on to Beverly Hills. It was romantic – it was fun – it was exciting – it was all-encompassing.

I’d never known anyone remotely like Bogie. As he revealed more of his life to me, I realized that it had been complicated and rough. Though he’d never had children, he’d always had responsibilities. His father had died in his arms and left him ten thousand dollars of debt and a ring – gold with two rubies and a diamond – which Bogie always wore. His mother had been an artist – Maud Humphrey – and had drawn Bogie a great deal for children’s food ads and books. Bogie had been known as the ‘Maud Humphrey Baby.’ She evidently was strong – a suffragette. He admired her, but she was not warm or affectionate. She died of cancer when she was seventy. And he had two sisters – Kay and Pat. Kay had been a gay girl during speakeasy days – laughing, drinking, burning herself out so that she died in her thirties. Pat had been the quiet one – madly in love with her husband and he with her – mother of a lovely daughter. Tragically struck down when a young woman by an illness that would plague her all her life – divorced and left with only Bogie to take care of her, emotionally and financially. Bogie looked after his sister always – loved her and was constantly saddened by the rotten hand she had been dealt. She was goodness incarnate. So, not including his three failed marriages, he had had burdens to bear.

He was a gentle man – diametrically opposed to most of the parts he played. He detested deceit of any kind. He had never had a secret
relationship such as we were having. Our drives home, foolish jokes, kidding on the set, all the behavior of kids in love – he’d never known. Nor had I. I had so many new feelings all at once. I was in awe of him and his position of ‘movie star.’ I was aware of being nineteen and he forty-four, but when we were together that didn’t seem to matter. I was older than nineteen in many ways and he had such energy and vitality he seemed to be no particular age. I was an innocent sexually – Bogie began awakening feelings that were new to me. Just his looking at me could make me tremble. When he took my hand in his, the feeling caught me in the pit of my stomach – his hand was warm, protecting, and full of love. When he saw me at the beginning of the day and when he called me on the telephone, his first words were always ‘Hello, Baby.’ My heart would literally pound. I knew that physical changes were happening within me – the simplest word, look, or move would bring a gut reaction. It was all so romantic – I would not have believed Bogie was so sentimental, so loving. I couldn’t think of anything else – when I wasn’t with him I was thinking of him, or talking about him. One-track-minding with a vengeance. My friend from
Johnny 2 × 4,
Carolyn Cromwell, came to stay with me for about ten days. She was madly in love with a music publisher named Buddy Morris, who was married with three children. So she’d tell me everything about Buddy and I’d tell her everything about Bogie. Talking our loves out loud made them seem more possible.

And I wanted to give Bogie so much that he hadn’t had. All the love that had been stored inside of me all my life for an invisible father, for a man. I could finally think of allowing it to pour over
this
man and fill his life with laughter, warmth, joy – things he hadn’t had for such a long time, if ever. My imagination was working overtime.

What would my mother think of all this? She knew nothing about me and Bogie. I hadn’t even given her a slight indication – no doubt for fear she’d rush back to California too quickly. Without her I was free to think only of him, this man who made every day brighter because he was in it. Oh God, what would I do when I couldn’t see him every day – when the picture was over? How could I live? But I would see him somehow. He wanted it as much as I did, I was sure he did. There was always a tiny element of doubt in mind about my luck. Early training. He had to love me – he had to!

So the days passed, and the weeks, and the movie would end soon.
Mother came back from New York. I was happy to see her, but I knew that trouble would start when she found out about Bogie. I said nothing – just told her about the movie, how it was going, about all the interviews I’d been giving, about Howard bringing Paul Lukas on the set one day to surprise me. One night when we were asleep the phone rang – Bogie, of course. He’d gotten out of the house after a big drunken fight with Mayo – would I meet him around the corner? I never hesitated for a second – whenever he called, I was there. I jumped into slacks and sweater. Mother stuck her head up: ‘What’s going on? Where are you going?’ Me: ‘I’m going to meet Bogie. I have to. I’ll explain it all to you later.’ She: ‘Are you crazy? Get right back into bed!’ When my mind was made up, my mind was made up. ‘I will not get back into bed.
Please
, Mother, don’t worry.’ And out the door. Into my car and around the corner to Rodeo Drive and Wilshire Boulevard. There was Bogie with Jimmy Gleason, whom he’d met at some bar. I ran up the street – arms open wide, hair flying – to Bogie’s smiling face and safe embrace. We sat in the car for a while – Gleason didn’t know or care what was going on – it was just that Bogie had to see his Baby. What it felt like to be so wanted, so adored! No one had ever felt like that about me. It was all so dramatic, too. Always in the wee small hours when it seemed to Bogie and me that the world was ours – that we were the world. At those times we were.

I got home about an hour later. Mother awake, of course, saying, ‘Get to sleep – you have to work tomorrow.’ Furious. The next day after work I had to explain a lot of it to her. She said, ‘But he’s married – he’s been married three times. What kind of a man is that – with a wife – who’d be seeing a girl twenty-five years younger?’ ‘I know all that, Mother. You don’t understand. He’s unhappy – his marriage is lousy – his wife’s a drunk and a mess. He loves me.’ ‘Of course,’ said Mother, ‘why shouldn’t he? A girl so young and beautiful. Who wouldn’t?’ She didn’t trust him for one second. Bogie was her contemporary. I was
her
Baby. He’d had three wives, he drank a lot – what kind of man could he be, except no good?
Her
early training.

‘When you meet him you’ll see how different he is than what you think.’ But she didn’t expect to meet him. She knew that something big had happened to me and she knew that nothing would stop me. But she wasn’t ready to relinquish her position just yet – certainly not without a fight. She wanted the best for me, and Bogart wasn’t the best.
And I owed Howard a lot – I wasn’t to forget that. I couldn’t just forget everyone else because of Bogart. Obviously she was right about that. And yet that’s about what I was doing.

To Have and Have Not
was almost finished. Howard was happy – Warners was – Charlie was. Bogie and I were happy with the movie, but miserable at the thought of our separation. It had to come – Bogie was going to his boat at Newport Beach. That was what he loved – the sea. It meant health and peace to him. And he would have to pacify Mayo. She’d mentioned me too many times, and though that was part of her pattern, he wasn’t about to take any chances.

My falling in love had definitely taken over and put the biggest, most exciting thing that ever happened in my work life into second place. I didn’t realize – not really – what the movie might mean. I hadn’t seen any of it cut together, and in any case couldn’t have understood what would happen to me as a result of it.

Finally it was the last day of shooting. We’d film the last scene and do publicity stills. It was a big set and a big lighting job. Hoagy at the piano. Me with him – extras – Bogie saying goodbye to Marcel Dalio – Walter Brennan moving with Bogie – me wriggling across the room to Bogie – him grabbing my arm – all of us walking away – fade-out. Bogie and I went to Burt Six’s studio for stills – first Bogie alone, with me behind camera making faces, joking, then the two of us. Bogie knew just how to do it. We played our own scene, which was very Slim-and-Steve anyway – we had become them or they us almost from the beginning. Terrific fun – exciting – vibrations beyond description. It was pretty funny, my playing this woman of the world, this know-it-all, experienced sex-pot – me nineteen years old and actually knowing nothing, a true innocent, but blessed with the good sense and humor God and my family had given me, plus the willfulness and determination to get what I wanted.

Howard’s voice saying ‘Cut – print’ brought the most memorable and important eleven weeks of my life to a close. Bogie said goodbye to everyone. I was going to have dinner with Howard and Slim that night, a celebration of sorts. I walked outside the stage with Bogie, stood by my car, and put my hand straight up in the air, smiling as Bogie drove away. It was hell – I was so unhappy. But I was determined to be brave, seemingly devil-may-care, my attitude being ‘Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll see each other again any minute.’ But the emptiness when he left! I felt as though everything that had given me care and support
was being taken away. When would I see him – when would he call? How could he stand to be with
that
woman – how could he stand not to be with me? Questions on questions. Talking to myself again.