The Deer Park (12 page)

“Aren’t you having a good time?” she asked.

“No, I’m having a rotten time,” Munshin answered.

“I was looking for your wife,” Elena said, “but I don’t know who she is.”

“She’s around,” Munshin said.

“And your father-in-law? He’s here, I heard you say.”

“What difference does it make?” Munshin asked with a moist look as if he were really saying, “Someday you won’t hate me any more.”

“Oh, yes, no difference at all. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you,” Elena said, her voice all but out of control. It gave a hint of how badly she would act in a quarrel.

“I met Teddy Pope tonight,” I interrupted as best I could. “What is he like?”

“I can tell you,” Eitel said nimbly, “he’s been in several of my pictures. And do you know, I think he’s really sort of decent as an actor. Some day he may be very good.”

At that moment, a beautiful blond girl in a pale-blue evening gown came up behind Munshin and covered his eyes with her hands. “Guess who?” she said in a throaty voice. I had a glimpse of a little turned-up nose, a dimpled chin, and a pouting mouth I had seen before. At the sight of Eitel she made a face.

“Lulu,” Munshin said, half rising from his chair, and not
knowing if her interruption had helped the situation or made it worse, he hugged Lulu with fatherly arms, smiling at Elena and Eitel, while with his free hand visible only to me, he patted the small of her back as though to tell her she might do worse than to hug him again.

“Miss Meyers, Miss Esposito,” Eitel said smoothly, and Lulu gave a passing nod to Elena. “Collie, we have to talk,” Lulu said, “I have something I definitely want to tell you about.” Then she gave a sweet smile to Eitel. “Charley, you’re getting fat,” she said.

“Sit down,” Eitel offered.

She took a chair next to him, and told Munshin to sit on the other side. “Isn’t anybody going to introduce the Air Force?” she asked directly of me, and when that was done, she made a game of studying my face. I forced myself to stare her down but it took something out of me. “What a pretty boy you are,” said Lulu Meyers. She could not have been much more than twenty herself.

“She’s great,” Munshin said. “What a tongue.”

“Would you like a drink?” I asked Elena. She hadn’t said a word since Lulu had come, and by comparison she did not seem as attractive as I thought her before. Maybe aware of this herself, she picked nervously and savagely at the cuticle on her nail. “Oh, yes, I’d like a drink,” Elena agreed, and as I started away, Lulu handed me her glass. “Get me a small Martin, will you?” she asked, turning violet-blue eyes on me. I realized she was as nervous as Elena, but in a different way; Lulu made herself sit easily in the chair—I had learned the same trick in flying school.

When I came back, she was talking to Eitel. “We miss you, old ham,” she was saying. “I don’t know anybody I’d rather get drunk with than Eitel.”

“I’m on the wagon,” Eitel said with a grin.

“You’re on the wagon as far as I’m concerned,” Lulu said with a glance at Elena.

“I hear you’re going to marry Teddy Pope,” Eitel answered.

Lulu turned on Munshin. “You tell H.T. to lay off the drums,” she said, and flipped her cigarette to the floor, grinding it out with a quick impatient motion. I had a peep at her legs and of little feet covered by silver slippers. Those legs were as familiar as the contour of her mouth, each drawn on one’s memory by a hundred photographs, or was it a thousand? “Collie, this propaganda has got to stop, I tell you.”

Munshin gave his sheepish smile. “Now, you relax, doll. Who’s forcing you into anything?”

“I approve of Lulu marrying Teddy,” Eitel drawled.

“Charley, you’re a troublemaker,” Munshin said quickly.

Elena and I looked at each other. She was trying very hard to be a part of this, her eyes following everyone who spoke, her smile forced as if she didn’t want to seem ignorant. Probably I was acting the same way. We sat at opposite flanks of the conversation, no more than social book-ends.

“I’m serious,” Lulu said. “You can tell Mr. T. I’ll marry this pretty boy first,” and she inclined a finger toward me.

“You haven’t proposed yet,” I said.

Elena laughed with enough pleasure to have said it herself. Again her laugh was too loud, and the others stared at her.

“Don’t panic, love-bucket,” Lulu said with an authority the redheaded girl, Candy Ballou, had not been able to muster. She held her empty glass up for us all to see, and poured its last drop on the floor. “I’m sad, Collie,” she announced and laid her head on Munshin’s shoulder.

“I saw your last picture,” Eitel said to her.

“Wasn’t I just awful in it?” Lulu made a face again. “They’re ruining me. What did you think, Eitel?”

He smiled noncommittally. “I’ll talk to you about it.”

“I know what you’ll say. I was performing too much, wasn’t I?” She raised her head and pinched Collie on the cheek. “I hate acting.” And with hardly a pause she leaned forward to ask a question. “What do you do, Miss Esposo?”

“Esposito,” Eitel said.

Elena was uncomfortable. “I’ve been … not exactly, a dancer, I guess.”

“Modeling now?” Lulu said.

“No … I mean, of course not.…” Elena was not altogether helpless before her. “Different things,” she finished at last. “Who wants to be a skinny model?”

“Oh, I’ll bet,” Lulu said, and spoke to me again. “You the latest tail on Eitel’s old tattered kite?”

I could feel myself turning red. Her attacks came so fast that it was a little like waiting for the sound to stop in musical chairs. “They say you’re through, Charley,” Lulu went on.

“They certainly do talk about me,” Eitel said.

“Not as much as you think. Time passes.”

“I’ll always be remembered as your second ex-husband,” Eitel drawled.

“It’s a fact,” she said. “When I think of Charley Eitel, I think of number two.”

Eitel smiled cheerfully. “If you want to put on the brass knuckles, Lulu, just give the word.”

There was a moment, and then Lulu smiled back. “I’m sorry, Charley, I apologize.” She turned to all of us, and in that husky voice which went along so nicely with her blond hair and blue eyes, she said, “I saw an awful picture of me today in the papers.”

“Lulu,” Munshin said quickly, “we can rectify that. The photographers will be working soon.”

“I won’t be mugged with Teddy Pope,” Lulu declared.

“Who’s forcing you?” Munshin said.

“No tricks, Collie.”

“No tricks,” Munshin promised, wiping his face.

“Why are you perspiring so?” Lulu asked, and then broke off to stand up. “Jay-Jay!” she cried aloud, and opened her arms. Jennings James, who had just walked toward us, wrapped her
to his skinny body in a parody of Munshin’s bear-hug. “My favorite girl,” he said in his high Southern voice.

“That was a bitchy release you had on me day before yesterday,” Lulu said.

“Honey, you’re paranoidal,” Jennings James told her. “I wrote it as a work of love to you.” He nodded to all of us. “How are you, Mr. Munshin?” he said. The trip to the men’s room seemed to have revived him.

“Take a chair, Jay-Jay,” Munshin said, “this is Miss Esposito.”

Jennings James bowed formally to her. “I love the dignity of Italian women, Miss Esposito.” His freckled hand smoothed his red hair. “Are you going to stay with us long in Desert D’Or?”

“I’m going back tomorrow,” Elena said.

“Oh, you’re not,” Eitel said.

“Well, I’m not sure,” Elena corrected herself.

A waiter brought ice cream. It was melted on the plates, and only Elena took a dish. “This is soft ice cream, isn’t it?” she said. “That’s the expensive kind, I’ve heard.” When everybody looked puzzled by the remark, Elena became a little desperate in the attempt to prove it. “I don’t remember where I heard, but I did see it advertised, soft ice cream, I mean, or maybe I was eating it, I don’t know.”

Eitel came to her aid. “It’s true. Duvon’s in the city features a sort of melted ice cream. I’ve had it myself. But I don’t think this is Duvon’s, Elena.”

“Oh, no, I know it isn’t,” she said quickly.

Jay-Jay turned back to Lulu. “Honey, we’re ready for the pictures. Those photographers have finished grossifying themselves, and it all waits on you.”

“Well, let it wait,” said Lulu. “I want another drink.”

“Mr. T. asked me specially to get you.”

“Come on, let’s go,” said Munshin, “everybody.” I think he included Elena, Eitel, and myself to prevent Lulu from deciding she wanted to stay with us. Once on his feet, Munshin
took her arm and started along the edge of the pool past the dance floor toward a group of photographers I could see gathered near the papier-mâché movie camera.

Jay-Jay brought up the rear with me. “That Esposito dame,” he said, “she’s Munshin’s little gal, I hear.”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Oh man, she’s a dish. I never got my hooks into her, but I know some who have. When old Charley Eitel gets done with Esposito, you ought to spend a couple of delicious hours with her.” He then started to give me details of how good she was supposed to be. “And she looks like a sweet kid, too,” he added gallantly. “It’s hard for a girl living in the capital. I don’t hold it against any of them. Why, Teppis himself, that son of a bitch …” But Jay-Jay had no time to finish the sentence for we had come up to the photographers.

I could see Teddy Pope moving in from another direction. The tennis player still was with him, and they were laughing at some private joke. “Lulu, honey,” Pope said, and held out his hand to shake hers. They touched fingertips and stood side by side.

“Now, fellows,” said Jay-Jay springing forward and talking to the three photographers who stood phlegmatically in front of the camera boom, “we want some human-interest stills. Nothing elaborate. Just how cinema folks live and entertain each other. You got the idea.” People were coming over from various corners of the Laguna Room. “Honeybun, you look lovely,” Dorothea O’Faye called out, and Lulu smiled. “Thank you, sweetie,” she called back. “Hey, Teddy,” a man said, “have your autograph?” and Teddy laughed. Standing before an audience, his manner had changed. He seemed more boyish and more direct. “Why, here comes Mr. T. now,” he said aloud, and showing a crack disdain to those who could see it, he began to clap his hands, and at least a dozen of the people near him, trapped into obedience, applauded as well. Teppis held his arm aloft. “We’re taking some pictures tonight of
Teddy and Lulu, not only for interest on their picture, or should I say
our
picture,
An Inch From Heaven
, but as a symbol, as I would call it, of tonight and the kind of good time we’ve had.” Teppis cleared his throat and smiled sweetly. His presence had succeeded in drawing even more people, and for a while the scene was busy with the flash-bulbs of the cameras, the shifting of positions, and the directions given by the photographers. I saw Teppis in place between Teddy and Lulu, Lulu between the two men, Teddy and Lulu together, Teddy and Lulu apart, Teppis holding Lulu’s hand in a fatherly way, Teppis photographed with his hand on Teddy’s elbow. I was struck by how well they did it, Teddy smiling, happy, healthy, and Lulu sweet, Lulu demure, Lulu ready, all with an ease which balanced the pride of Herman Teppis. It was just about perfect. Teddy Pope turned his face to every instruction of the photographers, his voice had sincerity, his smile seemed to enjoy his surroundings. He waved his hands in the air like a prizefighter, and gave a play of having wrenched his shoulder from the exercise; he put his arm around Lulu’s waist, he bussed her cheek. And Lulu with a cuddling curving motion slipped against his side. She seemed to bounce when she walked, her shoulders swayed in a little rhythm with her hips, her neck curved, her hair tumbled in gold ringlets over her head, and her husky voice laughed at everyone’s jokes. I thought she was about as beautiful as any girl I had ever seen.

When the photographers were done, Teppis made another speech. “You never know. We’re a big family at Supreme. I’ll tell you something. I don’t think these two kids were acting.” And with a hand against each of their backs, he pushed them together until they had to hug each other in order not to trip. “What’s this I hear, Lulu?” he said aloud to the laughter of the guests, “a little ladybug has told me you and Teddy are dear friends.”

“Oh, Mr. Teppis,” Lulu said in her sweetest voice, “you should have been a marriage broker.”

“It’s a compliment. I take it as a compliment,” Teppis said. “A producer is always making marriages. Art and finance. Talent and an audience. Are you all having a good time tonight?” he asked of the guests watching, and I listened to more than one answer that a good time was being had. “Treat the camera boys,” Teppis said to Jay-Jay, and walked off with Lulu on his arm. The crowd faded, the photographers were left to pack their equipment. Beside the pool, I saw Teppis stop to talk to Eitel, and while he spoke he looked at Elena.

I could see that Teppis recognized her name the moment Eitel introduced her, for Teppis’ reaction followed quickly. His back stiffened, his ruddy face seemed to swell, and he said something, something to the point, since Eitel and Elena turned away immediately.

Alone with Lulu, Teppis was mopping his forehead with a silk handkerchief. “Go dance with Teddy,” I heard him say hoarsely as I approached. “Do it as a favor for me.”

Because of the crowd I could no longer see what had happened to Eitel.

Lulu caught my eye. “Mr. T., I want to dance with Sergius first,” she said with a pout, and slipping away from Teppis she put her hand in my palm and drew me to the dance floor. I held her tightly. The liquor I had been drinking all evening was finally beginning to do its work.

“How long will it take,” I said in her ear, “before you start to look for Teddy?”

To my surprise she took this meekly. “You don’t know what I’m up against,” Lulu said.

“Why? Do you know?”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Sergius. I like you.” At the moment she seemed no more than eighteen. “It’s harder than you think,” she whispered, and by the softness with which she held
herself, I found it hard to believe in the first impression she made on me. She seemed young; spoiled maybe, but very sweet.