Pike's Folly (28 page)

“Yeah, go figure.” He smiled to see her in a good mood. “Any word from Heath?”

References to Heath always made Allison feel like people were worrying about her, and she didn't want them to. “Yeah, he calls me every now and then. It sounds like he's having a great time in L.A.”

“So, no hard feelings?”

“Nope. No hard feelings.” Softly, she added, “Everyone's happy.”

“That's good.”

They ran out of things to say and waited quietly for Kress to return from the bathroom. Already, they felt more comfortable with Don as part of the group than without him. She could imagine all three of them spending time together—no pressure, no hang-ups, none of the uneasiness that had hampered her relationship with her dad in the past. After a year out of college, she'd learned not to expect too much from either herself or her parents but to embrace everything, especially the mysterious, the eccentric, the whimsical. Life was neither as serious nor as intimidating as she'd once thought. Life was about trying to smile as much as possible.

Gregg said, “Oh, before I forget, would you like to have Thanksgiving with Don and me?”

She answered immediately, “Yes, I'd love to.”

He looked startled, as if he'd expected her to make up an excuse and decline. “I thought you might want to be with your mother this year.”

“Of course not. I want to be with you.”

Rather than spoil the moment, he took a sip of Don's gin and tonic. “Oops, that's not my drink,” he said.

His nervousness touched her. “Look, I should probably get back to Carla and Marlene.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Gregg's hands were full, so he just leaned forward and gave her a kiss. “Good seeing you, honey.”

Before she left him, she said, “By the way, tell Don I approve.”

“I will,” he said.

The next morning, she invited him to lunch, and they met at Steeple Street, a fairly run-of-the-mill sandwich place on the East Side. By coincidence, their waiter was the same Carlo from the night before. Recognizing her, he exclaimed, “Ai! You're not supposed to see me here!”

Allison laughed and said to her father, “That's Rhode Island for you.”

4

Record of live web chat with film director Heath Baxter,
10/12/02, 16:04.33 PST.

 

WebModerator (GS266): Welcome to our forum with Heath Baxter, director of The Independence Project, who's in L.A. right now, working on a new feature for Miramax. Heath, thanx for being here.

HeathBaxter (surfergrrl03): Thanks for having me.

GS266
: We've got 47 UIN logged in, so if you have a question for Heath, give us your nick, a /s /l, so Heath knows who he's talking to. K?

surfergrrl03
: Sounds cool.

GS266: K

jillslut17
: Heath! Sup Jill, 16 /f /Dallas Ft Worth area, wanted to know about the new project, r u almost done with it, heard u were working with Chloe Sevigny / Marilyn Manson / Nic Cage what's the deal and where can I get DVD copies of TIP 4-17??

surfergrrl03: Hi Jill. Don't know about DVDs, if there's anything out there, I haven't seen it so take heed. Ummm, hard to type this fast. Nic Cage, no, M. Manson, unlikely, Chloe, no comment but stay tuned.

GS266
: What about the new project if u could tell us just in general

surfergrrl03
: Still working on the script. I like to know what I'm doing before I start working with actors, technical crew, etc. Obviously, TIP was different because we had like no budget, no permission to shoot etc so we had to make do. Studio backing really helps, and Miramax has been totally cool so that's cool.

GS266
: And if u could give us an idea—story, characters, who's on the soundtrack thx

surfergrrl03
: It's kind of hard to say cuz of the evolutionary nature of film, like I can't visualize the end result when I'm still meeting with cast members and that kind of preliminary sh*t. Like TIP was crazy that way.

GS266
: Totally, but if u had to summarize it in one word or ten words, or like five words

surfergrrl03
: Five words, I would say spiritual, religious, transcendental, pagan and f*cked up.

GS266
: Good let's get another question

Progfan2000:
Bill, 24 /m /Oakland, Heath I'm an independent filmmaker and I was wondering how u shot fragment 27b looks like the screen is tinted for night effect but there's lens flare in the upper right corner at 5:03.17, so I'm like what. Did u do that in post?

surfergrrl03
: Bill, everything was in post cuz of time restrictions. I don't remember using any gradient tints during the shoot, so maybe what you're seeing isn't lens flare but a problem with your download.

GS266
: I know what Bill's talking about. I thought it was lens flare too, and I was like whoa

surfergrrl03
: Totally. I don't know, but I'm moving my site to a different server, so that should help to clear it up.

Progfan2000:
Thx. BTW, have u heard of a prog-rock group from the 70s called Mirthrandir? Their awesome! Check out Grobschnitt, Gentle Giant, Wallenstein, Van Der Graaf Generator, Banco del Mutuo Soccorso, Area, P.F.M., Magma and Goblin—did the soundtracks to those Argento flicks.

surfergrrl03
: Cool, I'll write 'em down.

GS266
: Good new question

hafunny77:
Heath wondering what you think about sudden fame sudden success for TIP and what advice for other artists.

GS266:
hafunny77, let's have your name, a /s /l.

hafunny77:
34 / m / Orlando, Kevin

surfergrrl03:
Thanks Kevin. I guess I feel cool about everything. I miss a lot of my old friends from back east. Just been so busy. My advice is to stay focused on what you want to do and not worry so much about the business side of things, like with TIP I made with no studio support no professional actors just some friends working on weekends, and that's true of writers, filmmakers, visual artists, whatever, sometimes its easier to focus and stay true to yourself when there's no expectations or pressure from the outside.

GS266:
Good advice. Let's hear from someone else

Oluckyman01:
BAXTER YOU SUCK FUCKING ASSHOLE NO TALENT HOW PEOPLE LIKE YOU MAKE IT BLOWS MY MIND TOTAL HYPE I SHUDDER TO THINK WHAT YOUR SHIT'S GOING TO LOOK LIKE PROBABLY SOME WHINY GEN-X BULLSHIT LIKE LINKLATER OR WHATEVER YEAH I CAN USE A SUPER 8 TOO I CAN TAKE HOME MOVIES TOO DOESN'T MEAN THAT I HAVE ANYTHING MEANINGFUL OR RELEVANT TO SAY ALL THIS IS JUST CORPORATE BULLSHIT PEOPLE NEED TO JUST CHILL AND REALIZE THEY BEEN HAD

GS266:
Oluckyman01 is banned. Let's move on

pretty_princess:
Hi Heath, my name's Kelly 20 /f / I live near Phoenix but hopefully moving to L.A. this spring. I was wondering if u had a g/f and if not if u wanted to hang out sometime. My favorite TIP downloads are f-4a and f-19a b/c you're in it. Why don't u do more acting? xoxoxoxoxox

surfergrrl03:
Thanks Kelly. First let me answer the other question from the person who didn't give his or her name. I'm sorry if you don't like my work, and I can understand if you think that everything is corporate or orchestrated or overhyped, because in a sense that's true. But the fact is that I struggled hard to get where I am, and I'm not going to give it up just because some people think things are bullsh*t.

GS266:
Cool point taken

surfergrrl03:
And as far as my own work goes, I'm not hurting anyone, nor am I stealing chances from other artists who want to be in the same position. I'm just trying to make something lasting and beautiful.

GS266:
word and then Kelly had a question

surfergrrl03:
Right I'm sorry. Hi Kelly. Yeah I'd love to hang out sometime—whisper to me later. No girlfriend at the moment. I was seeing someone before I moved to Cali, but couldn't make it work out.

GS266:
that sucks

surfergrrl03:
you know whatever. But right now, I'm so focused on what I'm doing, and getting my script together, that maybe I just need to do that and nothing else for awhile.

GS266:
Any more questions for Heath?

surfergrrl03:
That a**hole must've scared people away. Is Kelly still out there?

aceventura782:
Hi Heath I read on tipchat that there's an alternate version of f-44a/b that has better resolution and a different ending, six seconds longer or something. Please comment on that, and also comment on whether you're going to release another batch of frags before the feature comes out, and also if f-81b still exists in the vault, and if so when do we get to see it?

GS266:
Ace, you sound pretty hardcore How bout your name a /s /l? thx

aceventura782:
Rick 15 /m /Newton Mass

surfergrrl03:
Thanks Rick. First things first, don't expect to see the full-length until winter '04 at the earliest, maybe even spring or later. As far as alternate versions go, I don't know about the specific one that you mentioned, but as I've said before, the vault's already been cleaned out, so unless someone's got a fifth generation dub, which I highly doubt, that stuff's gone for good. Sorry! ☹

GS266:
Cool maybe u could talk about how you're coping with L.A. and like how different it is from the New York scene and sh*t.

surfergrrl03:
Well, I'm not from New York, but I know what you mean, the whole east coast west coast thing. My friend Brian and I talk about once a week, and it really helps to keep me grounded.

GS266:
Brian the beach boys dood

surfergrrl03:
That's right. Sometimes I feel like he's my only real friend out here, not that I haven't met a bunch of cool people, because I have, like Michael Moore and John Singleton. But I think that Brian understands me in a way that's different, you know, like he's been talking to me since I was a kid.

GS266:
Totally I feel the same way about Todd Rundgren

pretty_princess:
Hi Heath it's Kelly again, sorry, I was afk I saw what u wrote about me—that's so sweet! Like u were thinking about me and stuff.

GS266
Kelly do you have a ?

pretty_princess:
Not really just that I'm probably going to be in L.A. for Thanksgiving, so we should get together—do u like Ethiopian food? I know the joke is that there's no Ethiopian food cuz Ethiopians don't have any food, but it's actually really good!

surfergrrl03: K Hold up and we'll go private.

GS266:
If there's no other questions, Heath maybe u could wrap it up with a few last words, like something inspirational or whatever. But make it quick, k? thx

surfergrrl03:
I guess I would say that you shouldn't worry so much if you don't know what you're doing, cuz that's actually a good thing. Don't make plans—I mean it's okay to make them, but don't adhere to them too closely, you know? And read a lot and listen to interesting music and watch a lot of interesting movies. That's it.

pretty_princess:
Hi Heath it's Kelly again. I think that's so sad what u wrote about not having any friends in L.A. U shouldn't say bad things about yourself, k? I don't have any friends here in Phoenix either.

surfergrrl03:
Sorry to hear that.

GS266:
Yeah we all are Heath thanks for coming

surfergrrl03:
Thank you. It's been fun.

GS266:
Spring '03 for the new material? That's awesome

surfergrrl03:
Nope, like I said, it's going to be early '04, maybe even the summer, but definitely sometime soon.

GS266:
Looking forward to it

surfergrrl03:
yep it's gonna be beautiful

END OF SESSION

5

One night in late October, Marlene came home from her shift at Zales and found Stuart still working in his office. The lights were off in every other room of the house, and the only sounds were the hum of Stuart's computer and some nondescript jazz on the radio.

His back was to her when she came into the room. “My head is throbbing,” he said. “Do you mind if we order a pizza tonight? I'm too tired to cook.”

She stepped out of her shoes and left them by the door. “No, that's fine. Wanna see my new bracelet?” she asked. With the commission that she'd earned that day, she'd treated herself to a sixty-dollar bracelet, which she thought looked sexy around her ankle.

He turned away from the computer and glanced at her hands. “Where is it?” he asked.

She pointed down at her right foot. “There. It's an ankle bracelet.”

He admired it as one might admire a child's drawing. “Nice, but you've got it on the wrong foot.”

“I do?”

“You're supposed to wear it around your left ankle.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you're married.”

“I don't think so, Stuart. I don't think it works like that.”

He shrugged. “Okay. Fair enough.”

She didn't want him to be unhappy, so she bent down and took off the bracelet. “No, I'm sure you're right. Here, I'll just fix it,” she said, transferring it to her left foot. She stood back up. “There—better?”

“It's fine either way, Marlene. You didn't have to change it for my sake.”

She smiled uncertainly and put her arms around him. The tension in his neck and shoulders failed to melt under her caress.

“Have a good day?” he asked.

“Pretty good. I sold an engagement ring. This poor kid was going to give it to his high-school girlfriend.”

“Why does that make him a poor kid?” he asked.

Boy,
she thought,
he's not letting me get away with anything.
“No reason, just . . . he was sweet. How about you?”

“What?”

“Did you have a good day?”

He slouched and put his head in his hands. The computer screen in front of him was filled with words, and she wondered how long he'd been staring at the same sentence.

He sat up suddenly and pointed an angry finger at the screen. “Listen to this and tell me which version you like better.” Reading from the screen, he said, “ ‘After Joseph's death in 1733, Nancy became even more promiscuous and eventually took one of her own offspring to bed.'
Or:
‘Nancy became even more promiscuous after Joseph's death in 1733, and eventually took one of her own offspring to bed.' ”

Marlene closed her eyes tightly. “I can't tell the difference, hon.”

“Fuck. Goddamn it. This is driving me crazy.”

She sighed, disappointed to find him in such an edgy mood. Her plan for the evening had involved a glass of wine, a stack of catalogs and maybe a nice foot massage. No spot quizzes. All in all, she preferred her husband when he wasn't working.

“Anyway, I'm going to have some wine,” she said. “Do you want anything?”

She'd turned away when he said, “I'm sorry, hon. I'm still in work mode right now, that's all. I'll be done in five minutes.”

“That's okay. Take your time.” Picking up her shoes, she went into the bedroom and stripped off her clothes. Once she'd undressed, she opened the closet and put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Being naked was now a temporary, transitional state, like passing through a room without lingering there.

Downstairs in the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of wine and sat down to read the paper. Stuart joined her fifteen minutes later. His hair looked a mess, like he'd been pulling at it all day.

“What do you want to do tonight?” she asked. Thus far, pretty much all she'd seen of him was the back of his head.

He stood at the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for a beer. “I don't know. What do you want to do?” Reaching for his beer, he unscrewed the bottle cap and slumped over to the table, where he dropped into the chair across from her.

“Maybe we could take a bath together after dinner,” she suggested.

“A bath.”

“There's some champagne in the basement, I think.”

He finally rewarded her with a smile. “What's the celebration for?” he asked.

She took his free hand, the one that wasn't holding the beer. “Just because I love you,” she said.

He laughed, though his heart wasn't into it. They'd had days like this before—days when neither one of them felt like talking—but there was always the awareness that they
ought
to be talking, ought to be trying harder. Stuart didn't seem to have that awareness anymore.

They ordered a pizza, ate in front of the TV, then made waves toward going upstairs. Marlene offered to draw their bathwater, but Stuart abruptly decided not to join her. “I don't think I'd be much fun tonight,” he apologized.

“That's okay, honey. It was just an idea.” She stood and kissed him gently on the cheek. “I think I'm going to have a quick soak anyway. I still feel sticky from work.”

Once upstairs, she decided to take a shower instead of a bath. With her hair in a wet tangle and the water streaming down her face, she looked as miserable as she felt.

Later, in bed, she asked him if he still found her attractive. “Of course I do,” he said.

“Because
I
do,” she replied hotly.

He modestly lowered his eyes. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean me.
Me.
I think
I'm
attractive. I've never felt attractive before, but I do now. I've lost six pounds this month, Stuart. That's a real accomplishment. I'm actually
proud
of myself, you know?”

He felt like she was goading him into having sex. “You've always been attractive to me. I've told you that.” To prove his point, he willed himself to get an erection but couldn't sustain it for more than a few minutes. When he pulled out of her, the condom that they'd been using stayed inside, like a crumpled-up, defeated version of himself.

The next morning, he woke up early to get a jump on the pages he wanted to finish that day. Marlene generally slept until nine, so he was careful not to wake her. Going into the kitchen, he started the coffee and sat down to browse through the over-eighteen listings in the
Providence Phoenix.
One ad called for a personal foot slave, while another, posted by an overweight black woman, sought an effeminate white man to wear her clothes and masturbate on demand. Reading the listings aroused him, and he wondered why he was continually drawn to the dark side of sexuality. In his mind, sexuality
was
dark, or maybe only his personal experiences of it were. He'd never had the kind of sexual experience that made him feel lighter inside.

He worked from eight to eleven, taking breaks only to go downstairs for more coffee. The memoir that he'd been working on for Gregg Reese was a patchwork of rumors, history and out-and-out fabrications. Some of the material had come from notes Gregg had provided, while some he'd made up on his own. Some even derived from sources who weren't directly related to the Reeses, such as Sarah Cranberry, who'd divulged much of her family's history to Stuart during those cold nights in New Hampshire. It was fun to distort the truth, Stuart thought, rather than having to invent a story from scratch. Gregg encouraged these flights of fancy, no matter how strange or incongruous. It didn't matter to him, for example, that the Reeses were originally from South County while the Cranberrys were from the East Bay. Everything belonged in the book.

At noon, when Marlene left to pick up something for lunch, Stuart went into the bathroom and jerked off. His body was filled with nervous energy from writing all morning, and he needed some quick relief. Asking Marlene for sex would've taken too much time out of his day.

She could read the guilt on his face when she returned. “Did you jerk off while I was gone?” she asked.

He reacted indignantly. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, it's just that your face is all red, and your hair's messed up. You look like you've been jerking off.” She set two deli sandwiches down on the kitchen table. “I don't mind, Stuart. You're free to do whatever you want.”

He laughed to hide his embarrassment. “Well, I
didn't,
okay? As a matter of fact, I've been working on this fucking Reese book all morning.”

“I was just asking. Don't get mad, eat your sandwich.”

Stuart wasn't hungry. “Why did you say that just now?”

“No reason. I was just making an observation.”

She pushed one of the sandwiches toward him, but he pushed it back. “Some observation. That's like saying, ‘Hey, did you just take a shit?' ”

Marlene calmly unwrapped her sandwich. “We're married, Stuart. We're allowed to be open with each other.”

Rather than argue with her, he reached for his lunch. A few bites into his sandwich, he asked, “So what are you up to this afternoon?”

“I don't have any plans. Don't worry, I'll stay out of your hair.”

This response didn't invite further conversation, so he said nothing and wolfed down the rest of his food.

After lunch, he went back up to his office and polished off half a dozen pages of the Reese book. When he came downstairs, he found a note from Marlene saying she was walking to Acme Video to rent some movies. Acme was a small, independent store that specialized in rare, imported and art-house films of the sort that people like Heath Baxter liked to watch.

When she got back, she said, “I'm having dinner with the girls tonight, so I picked up a few extra videos in case you got bored. What's the name of the actor that you like so much?”

He shook his head. Marlene was always asking him questions that were so vague he often couldn't guess what she was talking about. “I like a lot of actors. I like Malcolm McDowell,” he said.

“No, that Polish guy—the one with the bug eyes.”

“Oh, Klaus Kinski.”

She brightened. “That's it. The man at Acme helped me pick a couple out. I couldn't remember what the actor's name was. I kept saying, ‘Bug eyes, bug eyes.' ”

“Yeah, well, those guys at Acme know everything.” Stuart walked over to the table, where she'd set the videotapes. He'd already seen both of the films, Fitzcarraldo and Aguirre, the
Wrath of God.
He wondered what movies he would've chosen for her but then realized he had no idea.
I don't know what she
likes,
he thought.
I don't know anything about her.

Setting the cassettes down, he said, “I didn't know you were going out tonight.”

“It's my regular night, Stuart. Do you want me not to go?”

“Oh, no, have fun. I'll just miss you, that's all.”

“Are you sure? Because I can cancel.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Marlene, relax. I'm not going to run away. I'll still be here when you get home.”

They had some time to kill, so they had a glass of wine in the living room while waiting for Carla to pick her up. A compact disc played softly in the background, part of a classical music sampler Marlene had bought at the mall.

“I was just thinking,” she said, “why don't we move out of town? There's no reason for us to stay here anymore. You can write wherever you want, and I can always do . . . something.”

“Where would we go?” he asked.

“I don't know. Maybe Connecticut?”

“If we're going to move to Connecticut, we might as well stay in Rhode Island,” he said. This logic made no sense to him, but he didn't care. “What brought this on? Aren't you happy here?”

“
You're
not, Stuart. You're not happy. You're not happy with me, and you're not happy with yourself. I've made you unhappy.”

She became teary eyed, and he put his arms around her. “Honey, I thought we were over this. What can I say? I'm happy enough. This is as happy as I'm going to be.”

She knew she was annoying him, so she made herself stop crying. “You're right. Anyway, Carla will be here soon. I should do my makeup.”

He took her arm and pulled her back down on the sofa. “Wait a minute. Don't just run off like that. I don't get it, Marlene. You seem perfectly fine all day, and then you're a wreck.”

“I'm trying, Stuart.”

“What do you mean, you're trying?”

“I'm trying, that's all.” His grip loosened on her, and she stood up. Dabbing at her eyes, she said, “Don't worry about me. I'm just being a silly woman.”

She went off to finish getting ready, and Stuart turned up the volume on the music just as the final, decisive chord of a symphony erupted. He wasn't sophisticated enough to know who the composer was, nor did he particularly care.

Carla came round at six, and Marlene left with many promises not to stay out past eleven. Stuart spent the first hour trying to watch Fitzcarraldo but couldn't concentrate. His conversation with Marlene had put him in an unsettled frame of mind. Going to the stereo, he read the composer's name from the back of the CD case:
Robert Schumann.
The name of the CD was
15 Romantic Favorites,
and the picture on the cover showed a couple nuzzling in front of a seaside sunset and toasting each other with flutes of champagne. Their silhouetted profiles were perfect complements to each other. This was what Marlene thought about, he realized, when she thought about love.

Later that night, he greeted her naked at the door, led her upstairs to their bedroom and—ignoring the fact that she'd had a bit too much wine with dinner—undressed her, laid her down in the sheets and made love to her.