In Your Dreams Bobby Anderson (10 page)

The next few days went by with a steady case of nothing happening
, except for a phone call from his mother saying she would remain in France until the end of the month, since she was having a “ball” and she and Lily were vineyard hopping. She’d even picked up an acquaintance, Monsieur Bernard Blanc, who was desperately trying to impress them with the fact that he was French.

Under normal circumstances
, Bobby would have thrown a fit—Monsieur Bernard Blanc indeed!—and taken the next flight out to Paris.

B
ut as it was, Bobby was busy with his own drama. He decided to ignore all appointments, he didn’t go out, he didn’t have any guests over, and he didn’t pick up the phone to anyone other than Mr. Judge and his mother. He was totally focused, like the time he had to play the character of Mr. Penny, a dark handsome serial killer. It was Bobby’s first-ever lead role. The title, Penny For Your Thoughts, was a groaner, but he had been excited all the same.

Bobby
had spent about a week preparing for the role. He’d dressed in gothic clothes, eaten only meat, and listened to heavy metal music day and night. His reasoning behind all this was to make himself the opposite of what he believed “normal” people were. A serial killer wasn’t a normal person, so the mix of the three elements: dark clothing, strange music, and heavy food, he felt, pointed him in the right direction to unraveling the character. Looking around afterwards, he’d realized he’d actually embodied the typical teenager. However, his acting had been convincing, which is all that really mattered at the end of the day. The movie only got a B rating, but it was a start. A slow start, but a start nonetheless.

N
ow Bobby was preparing again. Preparing for life with Susan. But all this preparation wasn’t mounting to all that much. The calls from Mr. Judge all came in negative, and worse yet, Susan obviously wasn’t thinking about him again. He didn’t feel like going out, but it seemed he would have to do something crazy once more in order to grab her attention. But what? He’d already been warned by Patrick that he’d better steer clear of the booze. His latest escapade had earned him low grades with the producers, who were all edgy about where their dollars went. They wouldn’t want to invest in dangerous goods.

Something else
…

The phone rang and Bobby jumped. It was four
o’clock in the afternoon, too soon for Mr. Judge to call him—unless there had been a breakthrough.

But it wasn’t Judge. It was
Amanda’s husband, Jerry Cross, interviewer for Yes Magazine. “Bobby!”

“Jerry!” Bobby wasn’t sure why he’d picked up.
He should have let Rosa take it and make the usual excuses.

“I need to do a piece on you. You
’re one of the most interesting celebrities we have going. How do you do it?”

It
was meant to sound like a compliment, but they both knew it was more of a farce. People were talking about Bobby’s future, and it wasn’t good. It also wasn’t fair! He had made a great movie, the producers were sure of it. Opening night would be in three months after the editors got finished with their hacking and chopping, but he already knew it was going to be great. And he’d made
dozens
of other movies, always giving his best, always performing up to par; and now that he was actually in
love
and trying his best to get the girl, just like in his own movies, he was failing in the eyes of the public. If only they knew the truth.

But, h
is fans did not know and they were not behind him. Drinking and breaking up with Lola, that was what mattered most to them. He’d become famous because of his acting, and now he was going to fail because of his personal life.

“I can talk today, this evening. How about six?”
Bobby said.

“Six is perfect.”

Bobby knew that six would have been perfect even if Jerry’s son was having his Bar Mitzvah. Maybe an interview with Jerry was just what he needed to strengthen his ties with the public and get Susan thinking of him again. But what could he say? What would make the difference?

He decided to turn to his gym room for i
nspiration. He felt that he hadn’t worked out for a while and he missed the sweat that came with all that focused effort. He was just in the middle of a fifty-pound weight squat when the idea occurred to him. It was brilliant. Well…brilliant by his standards, anyway.

When Jerry arrived at six, Bobby was ready for him.

“Your guest is here. You want I bring him in?”
Rosa waited protectively in the entrance of the living room for his orders.

“Where’s Lester?”

“Lester? He go see his mother. He ask you last week. You need Lester?” Rosa looked disappointed.

“No
. I don’t need Lester. Thank you, Rosa. Please show my guest in.”

Rosa
hurried off, dedicated to her new role of Bobby’s substitute mother.

It didn’t take
Rosa long to return with Jerry close at her heels. She told him to sit and he did. While she disappeared to make drinks, Jerry shifted in his seat and organized his papers. Bobby worried when he saw all of Jerry’s scribbles. What was he planning, an ambush?

When
Jerry finally settled himself and his papers down, Whisky Coke in hand, he leaned forward in his chair and set his hungry eyes on Bobby. It was show time.

“I want to get closer to my publi
c,” Bobby said, before Jerry could get his first question in.

J
erry coughed and raised his eyebrows. “Closer? How?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Um, enlighten me.”

Bobby sighed and fell back into the sofa.
So much conniving.  Why couldn’t Judge just find the girl already? Why couldn’t they meet in a bar somewhere, date, get tired of each other, and eventually split up like regular couples? That was the lifecycle he was used to. Why all the extra complications? It just wasn’t fair not being average sometimes.

“I want to do Broadway, j
ust while I’m in-between movies.”

“So, you want to go to New York
City?”

“Yes!” Bobby snapped his fingers. “That’s it!”
By Bobby’s enthusiasm it would have been easy for Jerrry to believe he had come up with the idea himself.

“Any shows in mind?”

“Actually, I was already approached for a new, and I think, exciting show at the Broadhurst Theatre, but I’m not totally committed yet.”

Bobby wasn’t committed at all. He’d been sent the play script
, Marionettes, two weeks ago and had dumped it in a drawer. It was quite amazing he hadn’t dumped it in the trashcan, and equally amazing that he remembered the script at all when the crazy idea came to him.

Jerry scratched
his ear (an annoying habit, according to his wife) and took a leisurely bite of his pencil. “What does this mean for you?” Jerry let his tongue examine the woody taste of the pencil in his mouth. “I thought you were going to start a new movie in less than four months.”

“
Well, Jerry, that was never certain. I guess some people might make what they want of my new interest, but I loved theatre when I was young and I miss that connection you get with the public.”

“I see…”

“And it won’t be for long. The show will only run for three months, but I’m not even sure if I’ll be there until the end. I might just run with it for a month. It’s not set yet.”

“I see…”

“So, I will definitely be in New York City. I’ll be living there for a while. As a matter of fact, I’m searching for an apartment right now.”

“That must be fun.”

“Yes. It is.”

Jerry
sighed. He’d had a list of questions for Bobby, but it all seemed irrelevant. The drinking and Lola and the movie were all second news now. But doing theatre still wasn’t much of a story. Not a juicy one, anyway. He decided to just go for it. “Bobby, could you tell me what it’s like now, um, without Lola?”

“Lola?” If he had to be
perfectly honest, he felt he’d broken up with Lola years ago. Why were people still talking about her?

“
Yes. She’s been quoted as saying that you have a drinking problem.”

“Really?” this was news to Bobby. Maybe he should read more.

“Yes. She had lunch with my wife, Bobby, and she said that about you. It hasn’t gone public yet, but it will.”

“Are you printing that?”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t do that. No one wants to hear bad things about you, Bobby, but, um, do you have something more interesting for me? Something I could publish instead?”

Bobby felt a chill. Was it true? Had Lola said
he was some kind of a drunk? But even if she had, so what? He didn’t have a drinking problem, and if she went to the papers with lies he’d sue her. He’d seen plenty of public figures sue and come out on top. He would sue. “I’m not falling for this, Jerry. Sorry. If Lola says anything that is an out-right lie about me, and if it jeopardizes my career, I’ll take her to court and anyone who backs her up by publishing such material. You get what I’m saying.”

Jerry nodded and smiled. At least Bobby had learn
t a thing or two. It didn’t mean there wouldn’t be a story soon enough, though. Lola was angry,
and
female; anything was possible. At least Bobby was pulling out his cards early. “But there must be something you have for me,” Jerry persisted. “A show on Broadway is fun, but not a page-turner. Come on. For me. You’ve got to have something else.”

Bobby lean
ed forward again, ready for this interview to be over and done with. “I do have something for you, but stick with that and leave Lola out of my commentary. She and I are through.”

“
Okay, okay, you got it. Just tell me before I wet my pants.” Chuckle, chuckle. “Just kidding.”

“Sure, whatever. Just listen. I s
topped seeing Lola because I am in love with someone else. She lives in New York City and I want to spend more time with her.
That’s
why I’m going there.”

“Wow! Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Jerry hurriedly jotted down Bobby’s precious words and grinned. “So, when does the public meet her?
What’s her name?”

Luckily
, Bobby had thought of this too. The gym was a great place for preparing for interviews it turned out. “She’s not in the acting world,” he said. “And she wants to keep a low profile. I’m sorry that I won’t be giving out her name just yet, or bringing her out in public either.”

“Fair enough,” Jerry laughed. He ha
d enough for the front page of Yes, and that was all he needed for now. He’d be back for more in a few days. Christ, he’d even follow Bobby to New York if he had to. Amanda wouldn’t mind. She loved Manhattan. She also liked being in L.A. by herself; either way, it wouldn’t be an issue.

Relieved that that the interview was finally
over, Bobby led Jerry down the hall to the front door.

“Let me know when you leave.” Jerry held out his hand for a shake.

Bobby accepted the hand offering and realized that he was moving to New York City. He was actually going to do it. Would he really leave Tillie all alone? Well, she’d gone off to France, hadn’t she? She would be fine. Wow. He was going.

“Bobby?” Jerry stared at him.

“Yeah?”

“So, you’ll let me know?”

“Oh, sure. As soon as I go.” Of course he wouldn’t tell Jerry. Let the man work for his money.

“Bye, Bobby.”

“Bye.”

Phew.
He was alone at last. Bobby knew this would get Susan thinking of him. Tomorrow she would read the article and he would see her again. He hadn’t been this excited to go to bed since he was a little kid on Christmas Eve.

But
all his adrenaline came to a halt when he realized a terrible flaw in his plan. What if Susan didn’t read Yes? What if this was all for nothing? He’d just have to cross his fingers, or pull another crazy stunt. But wasn’t starring in a play called Marionettes crazy enough?

“What
the hell?” Patrick shouted at his client for the first time. It felt strangely satisfying, but it didn’t compensate for the real sensation of fear he felt as well. Either he was losing Bobby or or... He couldn’t think about “or”. He hadn’t had an experience like this before. He couldn’t compare it to anything else.

His partner had warned him the night before to take it easy with Bobby. “Try to reason with him.
Talk
to him. Don’t lose your cool.” Yeah, right! That was easy for Anthony to say.
He
didn’t have to deal with unpredictable actors. Patrick worked his butt off getting the best he could for his clients, cutting the best deals, on the phone, at lunches, never ending lunches! And now Bobby was doing
this.
Broadway? Why did he have to hear about it from Yes? Why did Jerry Cross get access to this news before
he
did?

“Don’t shout,” Bobby
was sitting on his oversized sofa trying to think about Susan when he got the call. He wasn’t surprised Patrick had phoned him, but he was a little surprised at how upset he sounded.

“What do you wan
t from me?” Patrick grieved through the line. He felt like a broken man. No other client had ever made him feel this vulnerable or this dependant. How had he lost control of Bobby?

Bobby rubbed his forehead.
“I want that gig with the Marionettes. You saw the script. You even gave it to me.”

“I gave it to you because I owed the pr
oducer a favor. I didn’t expect you to accept it. Theatre is a diversion from movies; it’s also a lot of hard work. It’s a commitment, Bobby, you can’t just walk out after a week because you have a movie to film.”

“We’ll see about what I can and can’t do, Patrick. I want the part. It’s the lead role, right?” Bobby wasn’t
so sure now. He’d only glanced through the script. Maybe there was a smaller part he’d missed that they’d intended for him.

“You can have the lead role,
of course.” Patrick scratched his head in an agitated way he only ever reserved for slow waiters and loud children. “But maybe a smaller, honorary role would be better. You could just make a star appearance and you wouldn’t have to commit so much of your time. You could still start Money Run in the planned timeframe.”

In theory
, it was what he should do, but he couldn’t quite see himself in a walk-on-walk-off role. It would be the lead or nothing. “I want the lead. Why are you insinuating that I can’t handle commitment?”

Patrick sighed again. “Is y
our mom back from Paris yet?”

“No.”

“Okay, look, I’ll check with Marionettes and see when they begin.” There was a pause. “Bobby, has this theatre thing got anything to do with that girl from the movie script you were telling me about? Have you found her?”

Bobby didn’t quite know how to answer.
He longed in a strange deranged way to tell Patrick all about the dreams. “I’m finding her,” he said instead.

“Well, I hope it all works out for you.”

“Thanks.” Bobby felt the conversation was concluding a monumental change in his life. He was moving to New York City, but Patrick made it seem as if Bobby was never coming back. It scared him. Was this move going to be permanent? Is that what Patrick foresaw? Bobby respected people with experience, even if he didn’t like what they had to say, or he didn’t like them personally. Patrick had had a lot of experience in the careers of actors. Was this really the end? Was he making a terrible mistake?

Bobby hung
up on Patrick and studied Yes magazine again. The article was good. Jerry had used one of his better promotional shots and he looked confident and handsome. The conversation flowed smoothly as well. Jerry had made New York sound exciting, his decision to move there for love, romantic and positive. There was nothing wrong with the article. In fact, it was the best one to come out this year. Bobby should be pleased. And he was.

He
just wasn’t experienced with moving. He had been in contact with a broker named Emily Zark, and had been assured that she could find him exactly what he was looking for. The only trouble was, not even Bobby knew what he was looking for. And it scared him more than he was willing to admit.

“Who is she? That girl in the article.”

“Susan?
” Bobby felt his heart pound in his chest. He’d done it. He’d found a way back to the island once again. Bobby felt a mixture of triumph and relief. She was still in his life.

Susan marched off. She was getting into the habit of doing that.
Temperamental
. “It’s you!” he shouted.

Susan stopped
, but she didn’t turn around. Bobby ran up to where she stood and put his arms around her, hugging her body close to his. “It’s you,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s you,” he said again, kissing her jaw and her neck. “It’s always been you.” He planted butterfly kisses all over her pale shoulders, her mouth, oh God, the smell of her body. How he longed for her. Of course he would act in Marionettes for her. He’d give up anything and take up anything if it meant being with her. She was his perfect match. Somehow, for some reason, she was the one.

Susan bent her head towards his kisses
, turning her body to his, covering his mouth with her own, kissing him back with the same passion he felt for her. Oh how he longed to throw her down onto the sand and make love to her again. But he knew that he couldn’t waste this opportunity. He pushed her gently away from him to inspect her T-shirt. It said, “Bobby”. He grinned.

“What’s wrong?
Why did you stop?”

Bobby used all his will power not to kiss her again. He knew that if he did, they would make love and he would wake up on his sofa, no closer to finding her than before.
“Susan, do you want to sit somewhere and talk?”

“I
—I guess. Over there?” she pointed to a large rock under a single coconut tree.

“Great, come on.” He took her by the hand
and led her over to the spot. They both sat, and Susan stared at him expectantly. It was all too bizarre. “How do you know about what’s going on with me? Are you reading the papers?” he blurted.

Susan dug the sand with her big toe and didn’t an
swer him immediately. “I hear about you,” she said.

“Really? How?”

“Maggie tells me.”

“Who’s Maggie?”

“My sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Why should you?”

“I don’t know. I’m just interested in you. I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

“I know. I only have Maggie.”

“Is she older than you?”

But Susan fidgeted. “I don’t want to talk about Maggie. Have you thought about how to get off this island? Do you have a plan?” She wasn’t quite angry, but her mood was definitely less upbeat.

“I do have a plan, as a matter of fact.” And h
e did. “What we need is a knife; a big strong one for cutting bark off trees to make twine. I saw it in a movie once.”

“But we don’t have a knife, Bobby.”

“I know, but I thought we’d walk the island in case we found one.” Bobby’s tactic was that if it was Susan’s dream, and he was pretty certain that it was, she could imagine anything she wanted to. If she wanted to find a knife, she could find one. He would leave it up to her.

Susan dug the sand some more with her toe and bit her bottom lip. Bobby thought she looked
adorable. He would have much preferred the lovemaking to the island walking, but he’d have to stick with his plan if he was to somehow connect with Susan, or find her, or help her, or all of the above.

“
All right,” she reluctantly decided. “Let’s go.”

In a way it would be interesting, he
reasoned. He’d finally see the rest of the island.

They left the beach and started across a rocky terrain that sloped upwards. There were some clusters of cactus, but the ground was mostly solid rock along the coast.

As they climbed higher
, the inky sea below seemed to crash harder against the forever steepening cliffs.

“Don’t fall,”
Bobby joked, but Susan had a determined look on her face. Bobby wondered if she was concentrating on the knife or on how the island should look. He knew for sure it wasn’t his dream, because he would have made the landscape resemble those atolls you see in travel magazines. It would be flat, beautiful, and there’d be plenty of knives lying around.

On and on they walked
, with Susan constantly scouring the ground with her eyes. The landscape didn’t change much as they made their way around and back down to the beach again. From what Bobby could tell, the island was quite small.

There was the one beach with its coconut forest nearby, and beyond that
lay a rocky terrain littered with sprawling cactuses, tumbleweeds, and here and there an unusual tree resembling the African Baobab.

B
irds swarmed the “Baobabs”, roosting heavily in their bare braches. Bobby couldn’t quite make out what species they were, but he did see some Pelicans, although he felt certain that Pelicans didn’t nest in trees and wouldn’t be so far inshore either. Yep, it was definitely
her
dream. She was most certainly a city girl.

“Doesn’t look like there are any thrown away knives on this island,” Bobby stated.

“Well, you never know.” Susan’s head was bent, still searching the ground. Bobby hoped it meant she would eventually find a knife after all.

And low and behold, from the beach below there came a glimmer
on the sand. “Did you see that?” Susan asked excitedly.

“Come on!” Bobby grabbed her hand
, and they both ran awkwardly back down to the seashore, having walked the entire perimeter of the island in less than thirty minutes.

“I saw it there,” Susan shouted. She ran ahead of Bobby and scanned the sand.
Dropping to her knees, and she started digging with a newfound determination.

“What is it?” Bobby asked.

“It looks like a knife, but it’s stuck.”

“Be careful.
You don’t want to cut yourself here
,”—in this place!
Because on his list of things he couldn’t do, doctor was one of them.