Chase The Rabbit: Gretch Bayonne Action Adventure Series Book #1 (11 page)

              As the words came out of my mouth, I realized how hypocritical I was being.

              “Nonsense!” Marx said. “What is he going to do?  Throw us off the ship?”

              “And why aren’t those two coming back?” asked Clark Gable, motioning towards Fairbanks and Chaplin.

              “They are coming in a minute,” I lied.

              “Then we will come in a minute too,” said Gable.

              “Yes,” said Joan. “We will go back down when they do!”

              I’d let the children out of the box and I was not about to get them back in that easily.

              “You have to go back down for me!” I screamed.  “You are all big movie stars! But who am I? I brought you up here, and they will hold me responsible!”

              “But we will stick up for you!” Jean said.

              “Okay, thank you counselor Jean Harlow!” I screamed.  “I feel confident that with you being my attorney in a court of law, I will cleared of all charges!”

              I climbed down the hole alone, fully expecting to be handcuffed when I reached the end of the ladder. The only person there to greet me was Monkey Man.

              “You’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess now, haven’t you, Mr. Bay,”Alvon said.

              I stepped off the ladder and was relieved, for a change, to be face to face with Monkey Man.

              “I don’t know, Alvon,” I answered. “You may be right.”

              “Would you like some Black Jack gum?” he asked.

              “You know something, Alvon,” I said. “Yes, I would.”

              He handed me a stick of gum and started talking about Harry Houdini again.

              “He could get out of anything!” he said. “And you know, I was friends with him. I was there the day he passed away.”

              “I know, Alvon, but I probably need to go find Klaus.  I am in big doo-doo and need to come clean.”

              “You’re missing my point,” he said. “If Houdini could get out of a locked trunk under water, you can get out of this.”

              Just then a monkey appeared rolling a bowling ball down one of the ribs of the beast.

              “Well, thanks for the words of encouragement,” I said, “but I am not an escape artist. And why are your monkeys running around again?”

              “Just practicing for the landing,” he replied. “And you may be surprised at what you can get out of, but you won’t know until you try. Otherwise, you are Poof! Dead!”

              “It’s just a matter of time before someone comes looking for them.” I said. “I might as well go down and tell them myself.”

              Captain Clipboard popped up from the cabin ladder looking very concerned.  And who could blame him?

              “They are still up there, aren’t they Bay?” he asked.

              “Yes,” I sighed. “I tried to get them to come back down, I really did. But they wouldn’t listen.”

              “I can’t hold Hearst off any longer,” Klaus said. “I have to inform him of the circumstances now.”

              “No,” I said. “Take me with you. This is my fault, not yours. I will tell him.”

              “I think that is a good idea,” he said.

              I was expecting to have to argue my case with him, but I guess Klaus was relieved not to have to deliver the bad news himself. We went down the ladder to the control room. I’d never been there before. And it was quite amazing. It looked just like the Captain’s control room of a sea ship. We passed through quickly into the dining room where Hearst was sitting with Lugosi, Cagney, Tracy and Cooper, looking very relaxed and happy. 

              “Excuse me, Mr. Hearst,” Klaus said, “but I am afraid we have some bad news.”

              Hearst looked up, concerned. “What is it?” he asked.

              I wished Captain Clipboard hadn’t brought it up that way, but it was too late.

              “It’s not really bad news,” I said, sitting down at his table.

              “What’s going on, Bay?” he demanded.

              “Some of your stars are upstairs and they want to show you something,” I said.

              “Upstairs?” he said. “Where, upstairs?”

              “Actually, they are on top of the ship,” I replied. “They are all very insistent on not coming back down until you go up yourself and take a look. And they want you to bring Hartmann.”

              Hearst was 69 years old, but he could probably out run me if he wanted to. I figured he could climb the ladder to the top of the beast without much trouble.

              “What do you mean, on top of the ship?” he demanded.

              “I mean they are outside,” I answered, pointing upward. “Literally on top of the ship.”

              Hearst laughed, shaking his head. “You are a riot, Bay!” he said. “And how did they get there? Fly?”

              “I took them up the ladder to the observation point,” I answered.

              “Observation point?” he asked, turning serious. “There is an observation point?”

              Hearst looked at Klaus, who nodded his head ‘yes.’

              “Well, why in hell didn’t anyone tell ME about that?” Hearst yelled. “Take me there, now!” Hearst turned to the cameraman. 

              “Make sure you have a new roll of film in that thing!” he yelled. “And bring an extra reel!”

Chapter Nine

“T
his way, Mr. Hearst,” I said, leading the most powerful publisher in the world through the Graf’s guts to the ladder leading up to the stars.

              “I have been on this great ship before,” he said as he started up the ladder. “But no one ever showed me this!”

              “That’s because no one is supposed to be up here but the riggers,” I replied, following behind him. “I think it’s against the rules.”

              “Do you think I care about rules, Mr. Bay?” he asked.  It wasn’t really a question. It was more of a statement.

              “I am going to take a wild guess,” I replied. “I’m betting you don’t.”

              Hartmann followed me, lugging his big camera and looking very nervous.

              “We’re going outside?” Hartmann asked.

              “Yes,” I replied. “And there’s no platform or railings or anything. We’ll be walking on the back of the beast with nothing to hang onto but our faith.”

              “Good heavens,” Hartmann said. “I guess I can hang onto my camera.”

              Hearst reached the top and looked down towards me. 

              “Now what?” he shouted.

              “Open the hatch!” I replied. “Just push up on it!”

              He lifted the round door and stuck his head up. 

              “Oh, my God!” Hearst exclaimed.

The old man was greeted by Joan Crawford, Jean Harlow and Clark Gable, who helped pull him out of the hole.

              “This is amazing!” I heard him say, as I climbed out behind him.

              Hearst was sitting just outside the hatch, his head in his hands, speechless, as he witnessed his stars strolling around on the beast’s back, without a care in the world.

Cameraman Robert Hartmann came up after me and immediately sat down, in awe of what lay before him.

              “Isn’t this spectacular!” Harlow said.

              “We should have been up here before now, Mr. Hearst,” Crawford added.

              “Hartmann!” Hearst yelled. “Are you getting this?”

              The cameraman was obviously in shock. He was frozen, sitting next to me, apparently unable to move or speak.

              “Hartmann! Dammit!” Hearst screamed. “Start shooting! Now!”

              Chaplain and Fairbanks were doing funny duck walks with their arms stretched out as if they were flying. Greta Garbo and Clark Gable were doing a crazy dance together. Grouch Marx was alternating between pretending to fly an airplane and falling out of one. 

              “I don’t think Hartman can move at the moment,” I told the old man.

              “Give me the camera!” Hearst said.

              Hartmann seemed to snap to, looking at me and Hearst.

              “I’m okay!” he said, as he raised his motion picture camera to his face.

              “You have to stand up!” Hearst said.

              “I am getting it!” Hartman said. “Just give me a minute!”

              “We’re losing daylight!” said Hearst. “You have to walk around and get as many angles as you can!”

              The cameraman stood up and carefully began walking around the actors as they pranced about. The sun was setting and the sky was clear. It truly was an incredible sight. 

              “This is going to be great!” Hearst said to me.

              “Yes, sir!” I agreed. “I am sure it will be a highlight for your documentary!”

              “No one has ever seen anything like this. Have they, Mr. Bay?” he asked.

              “Absolutely not!” I replied. “Because no one has ever done anything like this before! And you are getting it on film!”

              “My God!” Hearst repeated over and over. “This might even get me an academy award!”

              “There’s no doubt in my mind,” I said.

              “Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me about this before?” he screamed.

              “They told me no one is supposed to be up here,” I said. “Someone could fall off the side and plunge to certain death.”

              “But you broke the rules,” Hearst said. “And brought us up here anyway.”

              “Yes,” I responded. “Yes, I did.”

              Hearst looked at me and smiled. “Sometimes you have to take risks,” he said. 

              “Sometimes you have to drive the Packard into the river,” I replied.

              “What?” Hearst asked.

              “Never mind,” I said. “It’s just an expression I use.”

              “Thank you,” the old man said. “Thank you for driving the Packard into the river.”

              I don’t know how many people Mr. Hearst has said ‘thank you’ to, but I am guessing probably not many. And his personally thanking me, well, I never thought that ever would happen in my lifetime. Although I wasn’t a big fan of William Randolph Hearst for many reasons, sitting there on top of the Graf with him, watching all of these stars performing impromptu, was a magical moment for me.   

              “You are most welcome,” I replied. “But I can’t take credit for bringing you up here, sir.”

              “You don’t have to be modest with me, Mr. Bay!” he said. “I can read through your bullshit. I have people kissing my ass every day.”

              “I’m just saying I wouldn’t have brought you up here at all,” I replied. “I thought you would be upset that I brought your stars up here. It was Fairbanks and Chaplain that insisted I bring you.”

              “But had you not brought them,” he replied, this wouldn’t have happened.”

              “That’s right,” I said. “So since it turned out so well, and no one has gotten killed, I take full credit.”

              Hearst laughed, shaking his head, and started trying to stand up. I helped him stand, and then he started walking slowly towards the stars stretching his arms out like a bird, as they were all doing. I stayed very near him, just in case he slipped. For the next ten minutes or so, William Randolph Hearst and I walked the back of the beast together as if we were in a place not on earth, and in positions of total equality. For that brief moment in time, we were all just children, enjoying the ride and the experience of our lives. In those few minutes, how much power or money or fame one had didn’t matter. We were in an alternate reality. The one thing that would matter in the end, when it was all over, is that I was the one responsible for making it happen.