Recipes for Life (10 page)

At last, it was time for the big event. John signaled me to be ready. From where I was I couldn’t see or hear what was happening; even the roar of the bike was drowned out by the roar of the crowd.

Suddenly, there was Evel, dropping toward the ramp. I remember thinking,
Thank God he’s made it.
But then, to my horror, he came crashing down, the bike going out from under him! Evel was hurling down the ramp toward me, flipping and twisting like a rag doll. I had no idea what I shot or didn’t, all I could think of was that this beautiful man was being broken into pieces.

When he finally came to a stop, we started rushing toward him, but security and medical were already surrounding him. We couldn’t reach him. All we could do was watch as the ambulance came and took him away. It was one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen, but thank God, somehow, Evel did survive.

Later at the hospital, we were greatly relieved when we were able to speak to him and confirm that he was really going to be okay. We still didn’t know whether we’d actually captured the jump on film, but John said whatever we got, he was going to give to Evel. He kept his word. In spite of the fact that we needed the money, we signed over all the film rights.

I loved John for doing what he believed was right. And I was thrilled that what I somehow managed to capture on film was what Evel needed from that ill-fated jump: footage that he would one day use in a movie about his extraordinary life.

D
ESPITE THE WARNINGS
from John about Bunky and her madcap antics, during my hiatus from
The Big Valley
, I called her and invited her to have lunch. We decided to go to Brown’s on Hollywood Boulevard (something that later became a tradition that Bunky and I continued through our
Dynasty
days). We both loved their egg-salad sandwich and their hot fudge sundae.

I picked up Bunky at her house and off we went. It was perfect; there was hardly any traffic on the freeway. Bunky noticed there was a police car behind us. I told her not to worry, I was within the speed limit. Next thing we heard was a voice through a bullhorn telling us to pull over.

“Well, that can’t be meant for us,” I said. But then the police officer pulled up alongside of us and repeated, “Pull over.” And so I did.

Out of the squad car came the youngest policeman we’d ever seen. Bunky whispered to me that this rookie must have just gotten out of the academy yesterday.

When he reached my window, I asked, “What did I do wrong?”

“You were going too slow,” he replied.

Stunned, I looked over to Bunky, who leaned across me and got right into the policeman’s face. “You’re full of shit!” she said, and now
he
was stunned. For a long moment, he and Bunky just stared at one another, neither backing down. Then he asked for my license. He took it and walked back and got into his car. I could see him in my rearview mirror. He was just sitting and glaring at us for what seemed like an eternity.

“What’s taking him so long?” I asked nervously.

Ignoring the question, Bunky glanced back and said, “Don’t let him think he’s gotten to us. Laugh, Linda, laugh!” Then she threw her head back, arms in the air, and laughed hysterically.

Reluctantly I followed her lead, while thinking, “Oh my God, what am I going to tell John? I’m certain I’m coming home with a ticket!”

The young officer returned to my window and, to my surprise, asked, “Can your friend drive this car?” Before I could even respond, he added, “Because I am taking you to jail on a warrant for an outstanding parking ticket.”

Bunky couldn’t get her mouth open before he said, “And I’ve called for backup!”

When I was under contract to MGM, they wouldn’t allow us to park on the lot, hence the many parking tickets. Parking on the street meant we had to move the car every few hours. I thought I’d paid them all, but apparently one had slipped through the cracks.

When the backup arrived, the new officer put my hands behind my back and cuffed me. He then put me into the back of the squad car and got in beside me—dangerous parking-ticket criminal that I was—to make sure I couldn’t make a getaway.

As we headed for the Van Nuys jail, I kept looking out of the back window to be sure Bunky was still following us. When we reached the police station, the rookie suddenly made a sharp turn into the restricted underground parking, ditching Bunky.

They marched me through a series of barred doors, which clanked shut behind us, leading me deeper and deeper into the bowels of the jail. Thankfully, off in the distance I could hear Bunky’s faint voice reassuring me, “Don’t worry Linda, I’m here!”

They took a mug shot and fingerprinted me. I was horrified. I never broke the law. I wouldn’t even jaywalk. I was allowed to make one phone call, just like in the movies. I called John, who was editing his latest film. When he answered, I blurted out, “I’m in jail. I need you to come down and bail me out.”

“Very funny. Very funny. You and Bunky are always joking around,” he said, and hung up.

Luckily it turned out that I had just enough cash on me to bail myself out of this nightmare.

Stranger than fiction, later that afternoon I got a phone call from the brother of one of my best friends from junior high, who just happened to be a police officer in Van Nuys. Richard told me he’d had lunch with his police buddies and one of them said, “You’ll never guess who I just arrested: Linda Evans of
The Big Valley
.”

“You must be kidding,” Richard said. “She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever known.”

The young rookie responded, “It wasn’t because of her—it was her crazy friend.”

The good news was that Richard talked him into letting me off the hook. But the rookie had one condition: my crazy friend couldn’t be in court. Period. So with great relief, I called Bunky to tell her.

“Oh no, you’re not going to court without me. It could be a trick! I’m the witness. I have to be there to protect you!” she said emphatically.

As the court date approached, Bunky’s insistence grew stronger and stronger and I caved.

The fateful day arrived. As I turned into her driveway to pick her up, I saw someone come out her front door. Who is that slithering along the wall? It was Bunky, looking like Agent 99 from
Get Smart
. She had covered her long silver hair with a short black wig and was wearing a trench coat and huge sunglasses. She got into the car and said, “Fooled you, didn’t I?” It really was a great disguise.

Two blocks before the courthouse, Bunky got out of the car so no one would see we were together.

When I got to the courtroom, I was early and had to wait for them to open the doors. Suddenly, I spotted Bunky pressed behind a potted palm in the hallway and I started to laugh. As people began arriving, they looked at me as if I were nuts. Who laughs before going into
court? The harder I laughed, the more Bunky played up her superspy antics.

Finally the courtroom door opened and I went to the left side and she slinked off to the right.

My friend Richard came in and sat by me. Then the unimaginable happened: the young rookie came in with his backup and they sat directly in front of Bunky. I watched in horror as she leaned up closer and closer, eavesdropping on the rookie’s conversation.

“Oh my God, my God, just let me get through this day,” was all I could think.

Thanks to Richard, the rookie told the judge that he’d since learned his equipment might have been off. The judge dismissed the charges. Fortunately, Bunky never said a word, so I was free to go.

While we drove home, relieved and laughing, Bunky told me she’d heard the rookie say, “Linda Evans is too thin.”

I could live with that. My first caper with Bunky and I survived—but so did my mug shot I suspect.

This may be a good time to explain Bunky, though she isn’t quite that easy to explain. She’s a force of nature, undoubtedly, but there’s so much more to her than her wild side.

Bunky is the most loyal friend you will ever have, and there’s a reason she’s been my best friend all these years. She has an amazingly positive attitude that can lift you out of anything. She is definitely spontaneous and funny, but she’s also fiercely protective of those she loves. If you’re lucky enough to be her friend, she’s yours forever, no matter what.

H
AVING WATCHED ME
bouncing around on the sweet old horse they gave me on
The Big Valley
, John decided to share one of his passions with me. He’d practically grown up riding and some of his favorite memories were of playing polo at Will Rogers Polo Field in the Pacific Palisades.

We looked at several horses together before John found the one he was sure would get me as hooked on riding as he was. We arranged to have him shipped to a nearby stable in Griffith Park for boarding. The first time I went to ride him, John got stuck in a meeting, so I went with Bunky.

The day the horse got away.

I came prepared, bearing gifts to win him over: apples, carrots, sugar, a currycomb, and a brand-new saddle. He wanted none of it. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t get him to stand still long enough to get the saddle on him. I tried to get Bunky to help, but she just laughed, “No way.”

Frustrated, I finally gave up and went home to tell John, who couldn’t believe I let the horse win. He made me turn right around and go back with him, to show me “how it’s done.”

He did. John got the saddle on, then mounted up and went bucking off a few feet before sailing through the air and down onto his butt. I tried to hide my laughter, but it was so perfect to see this great equestrian sitting on his backside in the dirt, the dust still settling around him. For once I got to say, “I told you so.”

We later learned that the horse, which was still a stallion, had been drugged when we bought him. The good news is we were able to sell the horse to my stuntwoman from
The Big Valley
, who was able to break him and really loved his spirit.