I’m Losing You (26 page)

He winced at the thought of his sister; she'd call his vision hubris and hate him for his efforts. Aubrey Anne was pretentious that way. He remembered when she came to the house a few years ago and Douglas fixed them a wonderful lunch by the pool. Aubrey spewed patented zingers and made diggy little looks, then announced she had AIDS, just like that. The producer felt spiteful and disconnected. He couldn't wait for her to leave.

Locking himself in the restroom, he vomited on the descent—a septic torrent of cookies, hot fudge and shrimp, scotch and filet mignon, salad and steamed veggies, potatoes au gratin and a dozen bags of peanuts so sweet they had made him shiver.

It was raining in L.A. The steward draped the coat on his shoulders and Zev slipped him a card. Gogol and Mimsy tucked in armpits, he nodded suavely at his fellow passengers—Katie Couric, Brian Dennehy and the agent Donny Ribkin among them—and debarked. The driver waited at the gate. He took Zev's Il Bisonte bag and walked eight paces ahead. Down the escalator and through the tube, Aubrey Anne nagged at him. A brainy type, she'd always been mad about the Russians. He could see her scrunched on the sofa, see the covers of the books with their yellow college
USED
stickers, her four-eyed face buried in Lermontov,
The Idiot
, Turgenev—and another one that stuck in
his mind:
This Fierce and Beautiful World
. He loved that title but never remembered who wrote it. Oblomov? Maybe. One of his soldiers would find out.

Troy Capra

(Kiv Giraux lies on a blanket, sunbathing. The lawn is green, the sky powder-blue. She is topless. Troy interviews her from OFF-CAMERA. While they talk, his lens drifts languidly over the anatomy: legs, tummy, breasts, smile. Zooming in, dallying. No abrupt movements…casual and conversational. A supered title:
THE FOXXXY NETWORK'S STARSHOT #10—XXX-FILE GIRLS.
The short, popular segments, dubbed “Starshot Skinscapes,” usually run between feature films on the twenty-four-hour Adult Channel but lately have been airing in MTV-like blocs of five. They have an informal, documentary feel, brainchild of Troy Capra. The fresh, improvisational style and home-movie look have made them a hit with viewers)

Tell us about yourself.

(
smiles, deep breath
) Okay. My name is Kiv.

Kiv. That's unusual. Very pretty.

Thank you.

Where from?

Vancouver.

Beautiful place. Lots of television production up there now.

Maybe I should go back!

We don't want to lose you just yet. That's close to Seattle, isn't it?

Vancouver? Uh huh.

Home of the Grunge.

That's right. Kurt Cobain and many others.

Lotta rain up there.

I'm a rain person.

Tell us how you got into the adult-film business, Kiv.

I was working as a dancer—in fact, I still do, between auditions. It's something I enjoy.

Bet you're pretty good.

I think I'm fair. Until a few months ago, I'd never even
seen
one—an X-movie. Then I started going out with someone—

An actor?

He was an agent.

Uh oh. Name?

…that shall remain anonymous! (
laughs
) He had a satellite dish—

Still seeing him?

No! It didn't work out.

Not a big enough dish, huh.

(
smiles
) That's partly true.

Most agents have that problem.

And how would
you
know? (
laughs
) He was actually very nice. For a while there, anyway!

You were saying…

Well, he subscribed to some of the satellite channels that show adult films, soft-core. You don't really see very much.

Uh huh. And you liked watching these Disney-type—

(
laughs
) I wouldn't say they were quite Disney. But everything was pretty much left to the imagination—in that sense, they were actually very erotic. And very well done.

Make mine medium rare, thank you. Now, is that the Spice Channel? (
Kiv nods
) And when you and your friend watched this, was that kinda like foreplay?

It did get us in the mood. But then he showed me the
other
channels—

The FoXXXy Network…

And they showed
everything
.

Oops! Rear-entry time.

Right—yes—
everything
. I was amazed. They showed home videos, too. People who got it on and sent in tapes.

That's hot.

Suddenly, it was like…the whole world is into adult filmmaking.

The whole world is watching!
Remember that? Welcome to the kinky Global Village. Tell us more about the home videos.

Some were really sort of gross but some were
very
hot. Because you'd see couples that you usually don't see, in professional productions. Petite girls with these really big guys—

Big in what way?

Tall. (
laughs
) It's more real, because that's what life is like—not everyone has these perfectly matching bodies.

You said petite girls. You mean, chest-wise?

Petite in general. Like, little Koreans—and white girls too—with these big, hairy guys.

That's attractive.

(
laughs
) It was
real
. They were like “the couples next door”—people didn't care how they looked and I thought that was great.

You're not one who's lacking in the chest department. (
she tweaks a nipple with her long red fingernails, screwing and unscrewing; it stiffens
) Wow, look at that.

They're very sensitive. (
she does the other one
)

I'm getting sensitive myself just watching. So, Kiv: all this channel-surfing put you in the mood…

I guess you could say that, Troy. I certainly got curious.

What are you into? What turns you on?

Men. I'm really into men.

Have you done a film with a woman?

Not yet. But I haven't done very many movies.

If you did, would you prefer a petite?

You mean, chest-wise?

Uh huh.

Someone smaller-chested than buxom, yes.

I'll put your order in right away. (
she laughs
) Well, how about Singapore?

Singapore is
great
. I
loved
working with her in
Dirty Squealers
.

So you'd feel comfortable doing Singapore.

More than comfortable!

Or being done by.

Mmmmmm. In fact, while we were shooting, I was kind of disappointed you never put us together.

I'll have to give myself a thousand lashes with the wet noodle. If it's good enough for Ann Landers—

And she's really sweet, Singapore. Not at all competitive. She's just so great.

Speaking of erotic channels…would you mind taking off your panties? (
Kiv smiles as she removes them
) That's beautiful. (
CAMERA PUSHES IN CLOSER until her bush fills FRAME. It has been shaved in the shape of a heart
) Hey, it's Valentine's Day. Move over, Edward Scissorhands.

I
loved
that movie. I think Tim Burton is a genius.

Did you do that yourself or did you have any help?

Just a little. (
smiles
) A little help from my friends. (
laughs
)

What kind of acting have you done, Kiv?

Mostly stage. Various productions in Vancouver. But I came to Hollywood so I could get experience in front of the camera. (
CAMERA ZOOMS on bush
) My plan is to cross over, like Traci Lords—

She's not doing too bad, is she?

I'd love to do a series—something like
Friends
—but I'm also pursuing low-budget film work with interesting directors like Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez. But I really enjoy theater work and might be doing a play soon, in Burbank.

Beautiful downtown Burbank.

It's Chekhovian—
The Cherry Orchard
.

I think you mean Chekhov. Chekhovian is the name of my grocer.
The Cherry Orchard
…that's where farmers grow virgins, huh. (
How had this happened to him? Years ago, he'd staged
The Seagull
in Topanga with Will Geer
.) Kiv, do you think your work in adult films will hamper you? Lotsa prejudice out there.

For sure. But I point to Traci Lords as an example of how nothing can get in your way if you're really motivated. I look at what I'm doing now as a preparation for film. It's a legitimate tool.

“Legitimate Tool”—I like that! Can I use that as the title for my next film?

I think that when my time comes—

I'd love to watch your time come.

—
(laughs)
that I'll be able to make that transition. Things are different than even ten years ago, especially so as we approach the fin-de-siècle.

The huh? The who? The what?

It's French.

I didn't know you were bisexual—I mean, bilingual—

(
laughs
) It means “end of the century.”

(
Of course, he knew what it meant
) Can you touch yourself, Kiv? (
She does. CAMERA PUSHES IN for EXTREME CLOSE-UP
) That's great. You know, you're a cunning bilinguist.

(
JUMP CUT to CLOSE-UP of Kiv's face, sometime later. Still the green lawn and blue sky, suburban ratcheting of distant sprinklers. Kiv moans, biting lip dramatically. CAMERA drifts down to breasts, jiggling
against her athletic arm. Follows until we reach wrist and flailing hand with long, lacquered fingernails. Then a MEDIUM SHOT of Kiv as a muscular long-haired surfer in Speedo briefs ENTERS FRAME from b.g
.)

Chet Stoddard

The housewife in toreador pants had been squinting at him from the moment he walked in. When Horvitz introduced him, the woman went nuts.

“Chet Stoddard who had the talk show?”

“That's right.” Oh Christ, he thought. Why hadn't he used an alias?

“I
knew
it!”

“Isn't that something,” said the husband.

“Great memory,” said Chet with a Dick Clark smile.

“He doesn't tell me
anything
, this guy.” Horvitz smiled too, but a little awkwardly. He didn't like surprises, especially at the beginning of a pitch.

“That was a
good show
. We
watched
that show, didn't we, Kenny?”

“Yes, we did,” said Kenny, matter-of-fact. “You were one of the first guys to go into the audience.”

“That's right,” said Chet. “With the long microphones. They called them shotgun mikes.”

“Shotgun mikes!” Kenny effused, turning to his wife. “I
remember
that.”

“
We're
not going to be on a talk show, are we?”

“Not even an infomercial,” said Horvitz, taking over the reins.

“Not today, I hope,” said Marion. “I'm having a bad hair day.”

ViatiCorps helped the terminally ill cash in their life insurance, providing the option of “accelerated benefits.” The debt-ridden former personality dropped by for an interview, then signed on as an “independent seller's advocate” trainee. Kenny and Marion Stovall were glad to have a nominal public figure in the house. Somehow, it made the investment more of an adventure, and less of a risk.

“How did you become involved, Chet?”

That was the dentist.

“Well, I do a lot of fund-raising,” he lied. “Walkathons, benefits. I met Stu at the carnival.”

“For children with AIDS.”

“I keep wanting to go,” said Marion, demurely glancing at her mate, “but somehow we never make it.”

“I think,” said the dentist, “you have to be invited. They don't take people off the street…”

“We're hardly ‘off the street,' darling.”

“Oh I think we can wangle an invitation,” Horvitz said. “They had a tremendous amount of celebrities this time around.”

“Great turnout,” said Chet, the sudden civic bureaucrat.

“Tom Hanks and his wife, Rita, always make an appearance. They're good people. Gee…who was there? Jerry Seinfeld, Marcia Clark, Jay Leno.
There's
someone who'll give you a run for your money.”

Chet rolled with the punch. “He's got a helluva car collection. But I was an unlucky man this year—got trapped in a ring-toss booth with Sharon Stone. It was sheer hell.” The dentist asked if the star wore panties and was promptly swatted by his wife. “Let's just say that with or without, she arouses some fairly basic instincts.” Everyone laughed as Marion went for coffee.

“Anyway,” said Horvitz, “Chet liked what we were doing and wanted to come along to see how this thing works, on a personal level.”

“I hope that's not too much of an intrusion,” Chet said diffidently.

“Hell, no,” said Kenny, “but I warn you: by the time you leave here, I
will
be your dentist.”

“Kenny, stop it!” cried Marion, from the kitchen.

“You have to promise to bring in a photo for my Wall of Stars.”

“It's a deal.”

Horvitz dug in. “Kenny, your profession certainly hasn't been untouched by this terrible disease and its attendant controversies.”

“We certainly have been.”

“As you know, there's a lot of lip service given to ‘awareness.' What's wonderful about ViatiCorps—and its database of professionals like yourselves—is that you and Marion can do something concrete, something
tangible
, to ease human suffering.”

“That's what's so appealing,” said Marion, bringing in the tray. She looked to her husband, then added: “To me.”

“How exactly does it work?”

“Simplicity itself. I have a client who's perfect to wet your feet with.”

Horvitz reached for his satchel, and Chet passed it on. He sorted through documents, grousing about life as a “great paper chase.” Then he found what he was looking for: a Polaroid of a wispy-haired man in his forties. Chet knew the picture had been taken by a nurse who supplied ViatiCorps with leads on the dying, for a percentage.