Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret) (35 page)

A nurse entered the room silently, startling
them all when she announced, “Okay guys, you got to go, visiting
hours are over.”

“But we just got here,” Darell mentioned
before Jose kicked him in the leg. It was Jose’s way of saying he
didn’t want to be here.

Jose walked up to Vivian and gave her a quick
hug, while saying in a fast manner, “Okay, I hope you get well
fast, Vivian.”

Darell walked toward the door, and said,
“Goodbye.”

Jose and Darell walked out of the room and
noticed that Damen wasn’t following. So they went back to the room,
asking simultaneously, “Damen, aren’t you coming??”

The nurse gave Vivian some sleeping pills, at
the same time as Damen turning around to acknowledge his friends’
voices. “No, I’m gonna stay with her tonight and tomorrow.”

Vivian started to close her eyes; the pills
were already kicking in and showing their full effects. Jose
noticed her eyes closing, so he whispered, “Damen, could you come
here for a second, please?”

“Yeah, what do you want?” Damen was forced
out into the hallway by Jose’s hand, feeling the force made Damen
know that they wanted to discuss something severe with him.

Jose questioned in a puzzled fashion, “I
thought you told me that you have a big scene to do tomorrow?”

They all saw the nurse exiting the room,
while Mr. Schultz answered, “Yeah, but I have to stay here.”

Jose questioned with gravity, “Hey, I thought
the nurse said visiting hours were over?”

“Yeah, but I asked the doctor, when you guys
were at the bathroom, if I could stay the night. He said sure.”

Then Darell tried to convince Damen to leave
the hospital, by reminding, “Alright, but you still have that big
scene to do tomorrow, and you already said the director is going to
give you a close-up on the camera. I heard it through the
doorway.”

“I already said I’m gonna stay here.”

“Wait a second, you have a big scene as an
extra tomorrow, and you’re gonna miss it?” Darell questioned in
confusion. “Are you crazy? God knows that she is. You just met her
about two weeks ago,” he added with loudness, figuring that by
being firm and strict with Damen, maybe he’d change his mind and
convince him to come home with them. But, he was wrong.

“Hey, watch it. The next time you say
something like that, you can forget about brushing your teeth,”
Damen yelled with anger. “Because, I’m gonna knock them out.”

Jose pulled Darell by his shirt and began to
walk down the hallway, with Jose saying, “Okay, fine, we’ll see you
tomorrow night.”

Damen walked back into the room where Vivian
was sleeping. Taking a blanket out of the hospital room closet, he
lay down in the chair by her bed. He stared at her face, and then
stared at her wrist, the wrist that was covered in stitches. He
thought in his mind the whole time he stared at them, what am I
doing here? He closed his eyes and thought about Vivian, but for
once he thought about his dream too. He fell asleep as he
remembered he left his journal at the motel. He thought in his mind
before he was cast away to dreamland:

Please God, don’t let Jose and Darell find my
journal, please...

Chapter Twenty-Five

Two days passed by like water drifting
through an hourglass, but instead of grains, they were rocks,
squeezing through a tube that was skinny and narrow. Damen was in
the motel room with Jose and Darell. They were watching Darell pack
his newly bought suitcase with brand-new clothes and his brand-new
pen. They both saw as Darell ripped and tore apart his old clothes,
threw out his old luggage which consisted of an old backpack, and
didn’t even bother to save any of his old junk; this was Darell’s
way of starting over. Damen said, “So, I guess this is the
beginning of the new you.”

“Yep, it is. Do you guys like the new clothes
Tom bought me?” Darell asked, holding up in the air a sweatshirt: a
sweatshirt that had “Beverly Hills” engraved on it.

“Oh, now we’re calling Mr. Fryer Tom?” Jose
laughed a little, adding, “Yeah, it’s cool. So, are you nervous
about tomorrow?” Jose grabbed the sweatshirt and began smelling the
fresh, new-bought scent, remembering what it was like once to have
new clothes.

“Yeah, Tom told me to be at the airport at
8:00 a.m. sharp.” Darell grabbed the sweatshirt from Jose and threw
it in his suitcase very quickly, it was like he couldn’t wait to
get out of the motel room and begin his acting career; the
excitement was too great.

Jose lit a cigarette, blew some smoke out of
his lungs, and then coughed it up, saying with surprise to his
charcoal-made lungs, “We have to wake up that early?”

Darell gazed at him, rolling his eyes and
saying with arrogance, “Yeah. Listen, if you don’t want to come,
then just say so.”

Darell closed his suitcase hard, showing that
he was upset for some reason at Jose. He had no reason to be, but
instead of analyzing the anger, Damen jumped in, and figured they
should all be nice to each other; after all, this is Darell’s last
day with them. So, Damen spoke, “No, no, we’re all going, including
Vivian.”

Jose looked at Damen. Confusion struck his
mind, knowing that Damen usually lived for arguments like these, he
wondered why he wasn’t telling Darell off, or mentioning anything
to him about his attitude. But, same with Jose, he figured he
shouldn’t begin an argument with Darell, but he also wanted Darell
to know that he was upset for the attitude he gave out. So, Jose
said, but with very, very exaggerated disappointment, “Fine, but
you guys have to wake my ass up.”

Darell totally ignored Jose’s tone, looked
over at Damen, and questioned, “So, how’s Vivian doing,
anyway?”

“She’s fine, the stitches are coming off next
week,” Damen answered, lying down on the bed, and seeing roaches
burst from underneath it and scatter around the room. “You know
what?”

“What??”

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to
bring Vivian with us tomorrow,” Damen stated, sitting up in the bed
with a straight posture. “Besides, it’s too early.”

Jose felt the anger from Darell’s arrogance
before, still throbbing in his mind, so he said out of nowhere,
just to be ignorant, “So. She could still wake up.”

“No, she can’t. Remember, she’s injured? I
want her to have all the rest she possibly can.”

“Okay, it will just be the two of you then,”
spoke Darell.

Suddenly, the phone began to ring, causing
Damen to run over to it in a heartbeat. He was waiting for a call
from Vivian, and he almost figured that this call was her. He
picked it up and balanced it on his right shoulder; lighting a
cigarette at the same time, he answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Mr. Fryer, is Darell there?” Tom
asked. Damen’s memory of all the things Mr. Fryer did to Vivian
came back at once, allowing an infuriated face to appear on Mr.
Schultz, and causing his teeth to grind together, and bite down
slowly upon his tongue.

Damen paused for a moment, not yearning to
create any friction between him and Darell. He figured he better
not yell at Tom, for Darell’s sake. Damen looked at Darell, and
knew he couldn’t start anything between himself and Tom, at least
not yet, because he was friends with him. So, instead, he spoke in
anger, “Yeah, he’s here.”

Tom Fryer held Darell’s photo in his hand,
asking, “Well, can you put him on for me?”

Damen threw the phone to Darell in an angry
fashion. “Hello?”

“You’re not in bed? Do you realize what time
you have to wake up tomorrow?” Mr. Fryer questioned with
aggravation in his voice. “It’s already 11:00 p.m.”

Darell knew he’d done badly, so he said with
nervousness, “Yes, I’ll get to bed right away. I’ll see you at 8:00
a.m. tomorrow.”

Tom’s eyes widened, saying in a tyrannical
way, “No you won’t, the plane leaves at 8:00 a.m. I will see you
there at 7:00 a.m...”

“Yes sir, bye.” Darell hung up the phone on
him while Mr. Fryer was still talking, and went over to the bed and
sat down.

Damen’s anger at Tom’s presence over the
phone still radiated, with him interrogating in a ticked-off
manner, “What did he want?”

“Oh, he just wanted to tell me some things. I
found out I have to be at the airport at 7:00 a.m. on the dot.”

Darell’s voice, and way of talking suddenly
changed, sounding like the regular Darell, instead of the arrogant
one. It was like Tom Fryer’s tyrant ways, and his leader-like
character, made Darell feel like he was smaller, crushing his
self-esteem, and breaking that shell of arrogance that was
beginning to generate and breed. But, that shell would have plenty
of time to grow back, and even if it was crushed once more, it
would still keep on trying to sprout; just like a blade of grass,
once it’s cut off, it would always grow back.

“What? Great, even earlier,” Jose said in a
sarcastic voice, throwing a pillow on the floor, the floor which
was going to be his bed tonight.

Darell turned off the lights, saying, “Sorry.
We all have to get some sleep, goodnight.”

Jose yawned, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,
goodnight.”

“Goodnight, movie star,” said Damen, putting
some covers over him to keep his body warm and the roaches from
crawling anywhere where they were not wanted.

“Oh, goodnight,” Jose Rodrigo laughed.

“Ha, ha, ha, I was talking to Darell.”

Jose closed his eyes, and reminded, “Hey,
remember, Darell, as soon as your movie’s over with, you have to
get me and Damen into a few gigs of our own.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Hey, but remember, I
might be asking you guys to do the same thing for me.” Darell
fought with his eyes to close, his excitement allowed him not to be
tired.

“Yeah, that’s right, we all are gonna help
each other out,” whispered Damen. He added with a laugh, “That
sounds so corny.”

After hearing Damen, Jose dreamed that night
of words, on top of words, breaking through his subconscious and
entering into his consciousness. The same words drifted through his
mind, chanting out their separate meanings to Jose’s sealed
eyes.

Yeah right, I’m not going to help you guys at
all. I’m going to be the star...

The next morning, Jose woke up on his own. A
roach was nibbling at his ear, like a rooster cackling, and the
roach’s sounds were enough for him to wake. He thought about the
dream he had and felt guilty about it. Hitting at his soul, Jose’s
mind was overwhelmed with a form of guilt. He went to the bathroom
and looked into the mirror, saying, “What a nightmare.”

He glanced toward the doorway at Damen and
Darell; splashing some water on his face, he looked at them again.
As the water dripped off his face and his thoughts spilled out of
his mouth, he questioned, “Do I really think that way? They’re my
best friends; it was just a dream. It didn’t have any meaning.
Right?”

Damen and Darell woke up to the sound of
Jose’s voice, chanting over and over the same words. Damen walked
in the bathroom slowly and saw Jose mumbling. He yawned, “Who are
you talking to?”

Jose flashed his body toward him. Embarrassed
by his own insane-like actions, he answered, “Oh, no one, I was
just humming a song.”

“Whatever you say, just hurry up and take a
shower.” Damen looked out of the bathroom doorway, and saw Darell
turning on the TV. “So, Darell, are you nervous?” He walked into
the main room, the room in which Darell was sitting for the last
time, and sat on the bed, watching cartoons with him that he hadn’t
seen since he was a child.

These cartoons made Damen feel young again.
Watching a cat chasing a mouse, and then at the end, the mouse
always gets away, made Damen laugh and also brought back memories
of his childhood, and how he always used to watch these same ’toons
with Darell and Jose.

“Yeah, but it’s a different type of
nervousness,” Darell replied.

The cartoons, mixed with Darell’s happiness,
allowed Damen to ask with excitement, “Tell me what it feels
like?”

“Well, it feels like, it feels like I’m going
up a hill on a roller coaster. You know the feeling you get when
you just about reached the top of the hill?” Darell stopped as
Damen looked up at the ceiling and imagined he was on the roller
coaster.

“Yeah, that ticklish feeling in your stomach,
that feeling of surprise.”

“Yeah, that’s it, but the only difference is,
I never reach the top, that feeling is always with me. That’s the
feeling I have right now,” Darell explained with a grin. “I can’t
believe it, man, I’m going to star in a movie, I just can’t believe
it.”

“I want that feeling, man, I want it so bad.”
Flustered with the wonders of prosperity, Damen Schultz grinned
toward the ceiling and imagined he was Darell, feeling that sense
of climbing, and having butterflies in your stomach that
tickle.

Darell got up and put his suitcase by the
door. “Damen, don’t worry, you’ll have this feeling before you know
it.”

The guys took over an hour to get ready,
stopping moments at a time to converse with Darell, they knew that
this was a very crucial time in their mission; fulfilling their
destinies. They got in a cab that headed straight for the airport,
not talking to each other, but just allowing themselves to take
control of the present and realize that this was the last time
they’re going to see Darell, the real Darell. Damen knew in his
soul that once Darell left, the only one who would be returning,
was a new Darell, both arrogant and conceited, or some other form
of character that Damen’s imagination wasn’t strong enough to
foresee. He also thought about how Darell was too gullible, and
maybe he wasn’t ready for Hollywood yet. His analysis of Mr.
O’Conner’s position was too overwhelming for his thoughts, so he
stopped thinking of it, and enjoyed the moment, deciding to take
each step at a time.