HOPE FOR CHANGE... But Settle for a Bailout (40 page)

.

“Hal-lowww,” came the voice from the door to
the studio. Gina stood near the Victrola, changing the disc, as
Larry crossed the room to open the door, through which entered Tres
and Lena, with no camera in hand.

“Hi hi,” said Lena, warmly, to Larry and
Gina, who each smiled thinly.

“What we’ve got is really great,” said von
Sommerberg, “but it is not the story we came for. What is the best
way for saying it?”

“Emma doesn’t work,” said Lena.

“But everybody else,” said von Sommerberg,
“is really great.”

“Isn’t this supposed to be a story about
family?” asked Gina.

“That is what the original patron wanted,”
said von Sommerberg. “What we have got and anything we shoot on the
drive will finish the movie, and really it is now about Miss
Lewis.”

“She is a real hero,” said Lena, looking
around. “Is not Emma Mathilde home?”

“Oh, no,” said Larry. “It’s just me and
Gina.”

“May we wait to see her?” said von
Sommerberg.

“We would prefer not,” said Gina. “There is
work that we can only do while Emma is out, and our time is
limited... so off you go.” Gina made sweeping motions with her
hands.

The two filmmakers left. Larry closed the
studio door behind them. Gina cranked the Victrola, causing her
chest to wobble in her tight sweater. She stood near the edge of
the couch and, when Larry had taken a seat, she gently sat on his
lap, wrapped her arm around his shoulder, and they resumed
kissing.

.

December Carrera adjusted the webcam, and
then she rolled her desk chair backwards, holding up two paper
plates, one over each breast, reading, “See u soon!” and “Soldier
G!”

.

Ed typed a response to the image of Anekee
van der Velden, in a tight pink top and white skirt. “Happy Bday
Ane! Looks like a great party!”

After several reloads, the FaceBook page
showed four more messages, one from Anekee, reading, “wheres
Larry?”

Ed typed. “Don’t know. He knew the time for
this,” typed Ed, submitting the reply. He then unbuckled his belt
and unzipped his jeans.

.

Emily Kashabara and the four young men
looked down a steep bill, one of hundreds like it in San Pedro and
the Palos Verdes peninsula. Emily reached into her tote bag and
pulled out a helmet and pads.

“Wuss,” said one of the skaters.

“I make my living using my brain,” said
Emily, strapping on the helmet. “I’d like to still have one when I
get home tonight.”

.

“Why me?” asked Larry, when he and Gina
broke for air.

Gina, her fingers still dug into his hair,
smiled gently. “What do you mean, silly? ‘Why you?’ ”

“I mean, why not Ed, or someone else cool
like that?”

Gina leaned in and gently kissed Larry’s
lips. “When I was small, all I wanted was to be at home with my
parents, and then my dad and mom started fighting. It was off to my
aunt’s. Then my grandparents. Finally, I had to spend a year living
with a friend of my mother.” Gina kissed Larry’s cheek, and
whispered into his ear. “A loved one cares about their family.” She
sat up and looked into Larry’s eyes.

“Obviously, you don’t care for your father,
yet you still go to see him and you’ve told the doctors to be
heroic if they need to save him.” She kissed him again. “The man I
give myself to will be someone who cares… like you.”

“Wait,” said Larry, shaking his head. “Give
yourself to?”

He slid back into the sofa, causing Gina to
lose her balance, and topple onto his chest. Instinctively, his
arms caught her, and – wrapped in his arms – she snuggled into his
chest.

.

Emma entered the studio with Ralphie. They
paused, on seeing Gina, on Larry’s lap, both asleep. Emma lifted
the needle from the 78-rpm record and placed the apparatus in up
position. “Cof-fee?” Emma asked Ralphie. He nodded and the two
walked towards the kitchen.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Stinkin’ Lincoln

Ralphie looked at the ten suitcases of
varying sizes, camera equipment, cloth totes and Larry’s two paper
sacks, and then peered into the completely empty, cavernous trunk
of the Continental. Inside the passenger cabin, Gina and Larry
loaded soda cans into the two refrigerators. As Gina placed
sandwiches, fruit, potato salad, yoghurt and other items into one
unit, Larry opened the safe in the other, placed three bundles of
hundred-dollar bills with the remaining bundle, closed the door and
spun the dial. He then placed all of the sodas into the cooler,
except for the loose cans in the bag, to which Larry added five
loose, cold Cactus Coolers, and a warm six-pack of Fresca.

The enormous lens of the Danish filmmakers’
camera flopped into the cabin, peering first to Gina and, a moment
later, to Larry, each of whom vehemently waved the camera away.

“Hello, my hunnies,” said December, climbing
in to the cabin, smiling to Gina, and taking the seat directly
across from the two. “This may get kind’a tight,” said December, as
I climbed in and sat beside her. Tres and Lena climbed beside me,
and Ed took the flip seat at the fixed window.

“All y’all comfortable?” asked Ralphie,
bending in to the cabin. With no words spoken above the slight
grunts and a grumble, Ralphie turned, raised the screen, and
drove.

“Save my seat, Boss Man,” December told me,
hop-‘n-scooting across, to wind up next to Gina. “I’ll be over here
if you need me.”

.

“I’m thinking Vegas would be a good spot to
camp for the night,” said Ed, as Ralphie pulled in to a
brightly-lit Chevron station, each island glowing. “Rooms a’
plenty.... All you can eat buffets…. Swimming pools… movie stars…
cheap liquor.”

“Not gonna lose an entire day just to stay
in Las Vegas,” said Larry. “I want Ralphie to make Grand
Junction.”

“Where is Grand Junction?” asked Lena.

“Colorado,” I said.

“Is that close to Las Vegas?” asked
Tres.

“A couple of states over,” Larry said.

“Two thousand kilometer,” said Gina. “Maybe
1800.”

“Two thousand!” exclaimed Tres von
Sommerberg, as Lena, holding a snapshot camera, captured video of
the reaction.

Ralphie opened the cabin door. “You have a
moment of convenience, before the next stretch,” he said, holding
the door for everyone, except Larry and Gina, who stayed in the
car, after Ralphie closed the door and cleaned the windows.

.

Tres von Sommerberg and Lena Martins stood
in the cabin, in the sunroof, red light glowing atop the camera on
Lena’s shoulder, as two pair of wide eyes and a giant lens took in
the panorama, the light and energy, the blurring of time. The
desert air whipped Lena’s blonde hair as she photographed the
Lincoln slowly making its way up the Vegas strip.

.

“Welcome to Caesar’s,” said a tall blonde
behind the main counter.

Larry slid his VISA card and the clerk’s
face brightened. “Mr. van der Bix. Welcome back. You’re eligible
for a number of discounts.”

December stepped forward.

.

“Tres and I will be shooting,” said Lena, as
we all stood near the main elevators. Several bellhops held luggage
caddies. “No need to worry about us tonight.” A bellhop, with one
caddie, followed the pair.

As the elevator opened, me, Ed, and December
followed a bellhop in. As we waited for the elevator to close, I
looked at Larry and Gina, waiting with the second bellhop, their
caddy holding three pieces of luggage and several paper sacks.

.

“There is something I do have to tell you,”
said Larry, as the elevator climbed to the penthouse. The bellhop
stood rigid and silent, as Gina reached down to hold Larry’s
hand.

“Tell me tonight,” said Gina. “Over
dinner.”

“Uh,” said Larry, “it’s, um, well, I don’t
know if I’d call it dinner conversation.”

Gina, still holding Larry’s hand, stepped
closer, so she was face-to-face with Larry. She leaned forward and
gently kissed his lips. “We can have dinner in our room.”

“W’ull,” said Larry, looking down, “just
that, um, it doesn’t work, is all, you know.”

Gina, speaking more quietly than before,
told Larry, “Let’s wait until we’re alone in the room.”

The elevator door opened and Larry spilled
out, with Gina quickly following him. The bellhop maintained a
polite distance, with the baggage caddy, until all three arrived at
the end of the wide, wood-paneled hallway.

“Sir. Madame,” intoned the bellhop. “The
Emperor’s Suite.”

Gina pushed open a pair of wide, double
doors, gesturing with her hand for Larry to follow. Gina walked
slowly into the room that Larry had been in, with Ed, December and
Carole. The bellhop raised the lights.

As Gina slowly walked through the suite, she
whispered “wow,” several times.

Larry reached into his pocket, pulling up
several crumpled, hundred-dollar bills and a handful of gold coins.
He dropped a stack of coins into the bellhop’s open hand and said
thanks. When Gina returned to the main foyer, she and Larry were
alone. She walked directly to him, wrapped her arms around his neck
and kissed him wetly.

Larry fidgeted like a knitting octopus
during the kiss, saying “I don’t get hard, Gina,” almost
immediately after their lips parted.

“Please, Larry, while we are alone kissing,
put your hands on my body,” said Gina. “As I give myself to you, I
want to feel you receiving my gift.”

“But… it doesn’t…,” said Larry, as Gina
pulled him by the hand to the window overlooking the Strip. She
looked out the window, her back to Larry. She turned her head, and
pulled him forward, so his hands slid over her belly and hips and
up to her breasts. His hands filled. Gina turned so the two could
look at one another. She put her hands onto Larry’s. His palms
traveled her body, and when his fingers found their work, she put
her hands onto the window frame.

“Sex can wait, Larry,” said Gina. “I am
giving myself to you, and you will give yourself to me. This is a
gift we give to each other. And a gift we each receive. It’s not
sex. It’s something larger.”

Their fingers intertwined.

.

A knock at the door interrupted Larry and
Gina’s necking. Larry walked to the foyer and opened the door.
Tres, his camera’s red light glowing, silently entered the suite.
Larry walked back to the sofa next to the Victrola.

Lena followed Tres in, carrying two cases of
equipment. Larry and Gina sat next to one another on the sofa,
waiting….

“Las Vegas is really something,” said Lena,
setting the equipment cases onto the wood floor. “Oh, I’m sorry,”
said Lena, taking long, deep breaths. “We don’t mean… to
interrupt…. Tres!”

Von Sommerberg appeared a moment later.
“It’s really something, this suite.”

“Yes, well, we have not filmed the pool,”
said Lena.

“Ah,” said the director.

A knock sent Lena to the front door, and she
returned with Ed, in a suit, and December, in a gown.

“Pardon the interruption,” said Ed.

“We’re gonna meet Lawrence downstairs for a
show,” said December. “Wanna come?”

Larry and Gina said no from the couch.

“Yeh,” said Ed. “Can see you’re both
busy.”

Gina and Larry sat, motionless.

“Well,” said December, “do what’cha want.
You’ll find us at da tables, later.”

“Sure you don’t wanna come, baby,” said Ed,
to Gina.

“Busy,” said Gina, slipping her hand into
Larry’s.

“Bye, hunnies,” said December, pulling Ed by
the arm. “C’mon, Ed, let’s go.”

“The pool? Or a show?” Lena asked Tres, as
they followed Ed and December.

“Thanks…, bye…, don’t come again,” said
Larry, limply waving.

“Where were we?” said Gina, leaning into
Larry, on the couch. “Oh, yes,” she said, rolling so her body was
atop Larry’s. She climbed to where they could easily kiss at
length. He wrapped his arms around her.

.

Larry said thanks as he put a stack of gold
coins into the palm of the room service attendant. He pulled the
room service cart into the foyer, closed the door and wheeled the
meal into the dining room, where Gina had laid out a twin table
setting, lit candles and stood, waiting, next to her chair. Larry
crossed to her, looked briefly into her eyes, smiled, as did she,
before he felt her arm brush into him as she took her seat. He
helped her slide the chair slightly forward and she turned and
grasped his forearm as he turned. Gina ran her fingers up Larry’s
arm, and she appeared surprised when her touch revealed long,
toned, wire-like biceps. “Oh,” she said, as her fingers slowly
traveled up and down the bicep, and the gentle tapering into
non-assuming tanned, toned forearms.

Larry transferred items from the cart to the
table, as Gina sat waiting. Once emptied, Larry rolled the cart
away, sat at his chair, smiled to Gina as he placed his napkin on
his thigh and reached for his cutlery.

“May I say, ‘Grace?’ ” asked Gina.

Larry looked at her for a moment. “Um, uh...
sure.” He took his hands away from the table, folding them on his
lap.

“Oh, glorious and merciful God,” said Gina,
head bowed, hands resting on the table, palms up. “Larry...” she
whispered. “Your hands.” Larry quietly reached his hands across and
rested each atop Gina’s. “Thank you, God, that you have blessed us
with this beautiful meal, for so many among us are hungry. And you
give us the gift of one another, when so many among us are alone.
There is so much misfortune, Lord, and so many who long for
togetherness. Thank you, God, that this meal shall give us
strength. We are grateful, Lord, for these precious gifts.” Gina
looked to Larry, as she spoke. “And please bless this man, Lord,
for he is a good soul, loyal to family, generous and kind.” She
again lowered her head. “And bless the friends we travel with, some
confused, some troubled, but each good in their heart. In Your
name, precious Lord, we ask this, amen.”