Son of Stone (11 page)

“Where does Eduardo live?” Peter asked.

“Way out in Brooklyn, on the water, in a very impressive house, and you should remember to call him Mr. Bianchi, unless he asks you to do otherwise.”

“Of course,” Peter said. He produced his leather envelope and took out a document. “I want to send in this application to Yale,” he said, “and I’ll need your signature.”

“Good idea to apply now,” Stone said, and Arrington agreed. “Do you think two semesters at Knickerbocker will be enough for you?”

“I think so. There’s always summer school, too.”

“Oh, I’d like you to spend at least some of the summer in Virginia,” Arrington said.

“If that’s what you want, Mother.”

“So nice to have a dutiful son,” she said. “What are your plans for the afternoon, Peter? Will you be working on your film?”

“No, there’s an Orson Welles series at the Film Forum, and Ben and I are going to go. He’s never seen a Welles film.”

“He has a treat in store,” Stone said.

“Yes, he does,” Peter agreed. “He’s gotten very excited about film. I don’t think he’d given it much thought until we met, but now he wants to see
everything.
”

“You’re a good influence,” Stone said. “If Ben weren’t seeing so many movies with you, he’d be getting into some sort of mischief. That’s what his father says, anyway. Dino is very happy about your friendship.”

“So am I,” Peter said.

T
he lights came up at Film Forum after
Citizen Kane
, and Peter and Ben rose and shuffled out of the theater with the crowd.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Peter said.

“That’s because I’m stunned,” Ben replied. “I want to see it again.”

“I have it on DVD,” Peter said. “Come on back to the house, and I’ll rack it up for you.”

They took a bus back to Turtle Bay, and Peter let them into the house with his key. Stone was standing just inside the door taking off his overcoat and hanging it in the hall closet.

“Hey, fellas,” Stone said. “How was the movie?”

“Movies,” Peter replied. “Ben liked them.”

“Especially
Citizen Kane
,” Ben said.

“We’re going to go upstairs and watch it again on DVD,” Peter said, “so please excuse us.”

“Of course, go on up.”

The boys ran up the stairs to Peter’s room, and he found the disc for
Citizen Kane
.

“Did you say Welles was twenty-four years old when he directed this movie?” Ben asked.

“That’s right, and he was already a big actor and director on Broadway and on the radio.”

“That’s unbelievable,” Ben said.

“We can beat that. Sit down.” He pointed Ben at a chair, then sat down himself. “Ben, I think you’re a smart guy.”

“That’s true, but I’m not as smart as you.”

“If that’s true, it’s an accident of nature, so don’t worry about it. What’s more important is, you’re a good guy, too.”

“Thanks, Peter. I feel the same way about you.”

“For the next four years or so, I’ve got to keep you out of trouble.”

Ben laughed. “You’ve been talking to my dad.”

“No, I’ve been talking to
my
dad, but he feels the same way about it as your dad. The thing is, they’re both right.”

Ben looked sheepish. “Yeah, I have been in a few scrapes, but I had some fun, too.”

“We’ve got to find some new ways for you to have fun,” Peter said, “because I’m not going to get involved in any scrapes. There’s too much at stake.”

“What’s at stake?”

“Have you ever noticed when some young celebrity gets into drugs or gets arrested for drunk driving, how long it takes him to get over those things? I mean, they end up in jail, then in court, then in rehab, then in community service, and most of them have to go through that two or three times before they finally get it. The ones who don’t get it end up in prison or dead.”

“Well, yeah, I’ve noticed that.”

“All that stuff they have to do to get straight takes up years of their lives. You and I don’t need to waste that kind of time getting out of trouble we should never have gotten into in the first place.”

“You have a point,” Ben conceded.

“Ben, I think you would make a terrific movie producer.”

“Really?”

“You’re smart, you’re good with money, you’re well organized. But you’re not motivated—not yet, anyway.”

“What should motivate me?”

“Would you like to be a movie producer?”

“Yeah, sure I would. Who wouldn’t?”

“Okay, everybody, but only a few are suited to the work. First of all, you love the movies.”

“Well, I love everything you’ve shown me.”

“A good motivation to have would be to want to make movies as good as or better than those.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“If you’re motivated, then making that happen becomes the most—well, one of the most important things in your life, and you do the things you have to do to achieve that ambition.”

“What are the things I have to do, if I want to be a movie producer?”

“First of all, you have to do the things that everybody ought to do anyway, like getting an education and behaving yourself. Then you have to pick out a few things to do that lead you toward your goal.”

“Such as?”

“Such as coming to Yale Drama School with me, instead of going to Columbia.”

“Drama school?
Me?
”

“Why not? In drama school you’ll learn how to produce a play and a movie, and you’ll meet the kind of people you’ll later be working with when you’re a producer: directors, actors, writers, technicians. And while you’re at it, you should take some business courses, too, particularly accounting and marketing. Then, maybe, you should get an MBA.”

“Drama school, business school,” Ben mused, half to himself. “You know, that makes a lot of sense—
if
I decided I wanted to be a movie producer.”

“Do you have some other career in mind?”

“My dad wants me to go to law school. I think he wants me to be like Stone.”

“He’ll get over it. What does your grandfather want you to do?”

“He says I should do something I love, and he’ll help me get to the top of it.”

“Can he help you switch from Columbia to Yale?”

“Just between you and me, Peter, I think my grandfather can make
anything
happen.”

“Then he’s a valuable ally. From what I’ve heard about him, he’s very rich, too.”

“Yeah, I guess he is.”

“And you’re his only grandchild, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“That means you’re going to have a lot of options other kids don’t have.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Ben said, “but you’re right.”

“How does this sound, Ben.” Peter raised a hand as if framing a big sign. “A BEN BACCHETTI PRODUCTION OF A FILM BY PETER BARRINGTON.”

Ben laughed. “Hey, that sounds pretty great!”

“It can be great, if it’s what we both want. What do you want, Ben?”

Ben took a deep breath. “I want that.”

“Are you willing to do the things you have to to get it? Now, I don’t mean stabbing people in the back, the way they seem to do in Hollywood. I mean, are you willing to do the things you have to do to learn how to do it and be great at it?”

“Yes,” Ben said firmly. “I’m willing to do those things.”

“And are you willing not to do the things you shouldn’t do?”

“Yeah, I’m willing not to do those things.”

“Great! We’ll have a lot more fun if I’m not bailing you out all the time.”

Ben laughed. “You know, my dad is always saying stuff like this to me, but coming from you, it makes a lot more sense.”

“I’m glad, Ben. Now, because you’re my friend and I trust you, I want to tell you a couple of things that nobody else knows and that I don’t want anyone else to know until the right time.”

“You’re right, Peter, you can trust me.”

“First of all, you’ve probably already figured out that Stone is my biological father.”

“Well, yeah.”

“And he and my mother are getting married.”

“Great!”

“It’s better if all that doesn’t get around.”

“I understand.”

“Second, it should help motivate you to know that my mother owns about forty percent of Centurion Studios.”

Ben stared at him blankly. “The actual Hollywood studio?”

“That’s right. My stepfather, Vance Calder, was Centurion’s most important star for fifty years, and during that time he bought the studio’s stock every chance he got. A couple of times, he even took payment for acting roles in studio stock.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Yes, it is, but it’s going to be even more amazing for you and me. Get your mind around this: one day I’m going to own all that stock, and it’s going to allow me to make any film I want to make at Centurion, and it’s going to allow you to produce it. And it’s going to allow the two of us to run Centurion Studios.”

Ben sank back in his chair, looking stunned.

“Now, before you get over that idea, I’ve something else to tell you.”

“I’m not sure I can stand it,” Ben said.

“I’m not sure you can, either, but here goes: Ben, I’m only sixteen years old.”

Ben sat bolt upright, looking at Peter’s face for some sign that he was kidding. “I’m going to be eighteen next month; you mean you’re two years younger than I am?”

“You’re good at math, Ben.”

“I can do eighteen minus sixteen.”

“Now, Ben, my age makes me a freak, at least until I’m in my thirties, when it won’t matter. But, if people think I’m eighteen, then I’m not a freak, and life will be so very much easier for me. Can you understand that?”

“Sure, I can. Your secret is safe with me, Peter.”

“Good. And I have a legal birth certificate to prove I’m eighteen. Please remember: life will be easier for both of us if you continue to treat me as if I’m eighteen.”

Ben smiled broadly. “No sweat, pal.”

“That means I’m not going to drink until I’m twenty-one, which means until I’m twenty-three. I’m not suggesting that you should wait that long, but you’ll have a better brain in your head if you do.”

“I’ll think about that.”

“I’m probably not going to have sex for a while, either, and I don’t need you to give me a hard time about it.”

“Up to you, Peter.”

“And it will help our career plan if you don’t get anybody pregnant.”

“Good point.”

“Great. Now, are you ready to watch
Citizen Kane
again?”

“Are you kidding? I’m ready to produce it!”

O
n Christmas Day Stone and Arrington were dressing.

“Do you think this dress will be all right?” Arrington asked.

“It’s beautiful,” Stone said, “even if it’s not white.”

“I think I’m a little beyond the white dress,” Arrington said. Stone kissed her. “You look like a virgin bride to me.”

She laughed. “It’s going to be fun being married to you.”

“Let’s be sure to keep it that way,” he said, zipping up her dress.

“Who did you say is going to marry us?”

“Eduardo said, ‘an official.’ That probably means a judge. He knows a lot of people like that.” Stone went to his dressing room and came back with a clear plastic box. “Here’s your bouquet,” he said, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Stone. I wouldn’t even have thought about that. Where’s the wedding ring?”

“In my pocket,” Stone said, “for Dino to convey.”

“Who’s going to give me away?”

“How about Peter?”

“Perfect. I don’t guess we’ll have a rehearsal.”

“No, but if I know Eduardo, we’ll have one hell of a wedding feast.”

She looked at herself in the mirror. “Am I ready?”

Stone looked over her shoulder at her reflection. “I don’t think it’s possible to improve on that image.”

Peter knocked on the door and came into the room. “Are we ready to go?”

“We are,” Stone said. “What’s in your leather envelope?”

“Just some stuff for Ben.”

“Let’s get out of here, then.” They took the elevator down to the garage. Stone got them into the car and backed out into the street.

Peter rolled down the window a little. “Wow,” he said, “how come the glass is so thick? It wasn’t this thick on our Arnage, in L.A.”

“Because it’s an armored car.”

“Why do you need an armored car?” Peter asked. “Is this something I should worry about?”

“No. When I bought my last car it was already armored, and it turned out to be very helpful a couple of times, especially when I rolled it end-to-end. Mike Freeman’s company has a division that armors vehicles, and when I was out of a car, he lent this to me. I liked it, so I got the law firm to buy it for me. Mike gave them a good deal.”

“What was the other occasion when having an armored car helped?” Peter asked.

“Somebody threw something at me from a motorcycle that might have hurt me, except for the armored glass.” Stone didn’t mention that what had been thrown at him was a bullet.

 

 

They drove out to Brooklyn and beyond and pulled into Eduardo’s driveway at exactly twelve-thirty. Pietro, Eduardo’s butler, valet, and probably bodyguard, stepped out the front door and got the car doors for them. “Everybody is ready,” he said. He took their coats in the foyer, then led them down the hall in a direction Stone had never been in the house. He opened a set of double doors, and they stepped into a small, quite beautiful chapel.

Eduardo greeted them, and Stone introduced Arrington and Peter. Dino and his former wife, Mary Ann, and Ben were there, as were Bill and Marian Eggers, and then they were surprised to be introduced to the mayor of New York.

“His Honor will perform the ceremony,” Eduardo said.