The Berlin Connection (23 page)

"Rraa ... rraaa ..."

"Isn't it wonderful?" said Natasha. "Isn't it a miracle? It's a beginning, Mr. Jordan. I know he will be able to talk. He will be able to hear! When I was a little girl I once saw a scorpion inside a circle of fire. I often dreamt about that. Many times during the last few years I felt that my little boy and I were inside such a circle from which there was no escape."

What did those last words remind me of?

"We did escape the circle. Listen!"

"Rraaa.. . rraaa . . ."

She replayed the tape,

"Orrr ... orrr .. ."

"I held his hand to the tape recorder and he must have felt the vibrations. He was so excited and laughed and

cried and at last I had to give him a sedative to calm him . . ."

"Orrr... orrr ..."

"I listened to the tape, again and again until you rang the bell. Now do you understand why this is the happiest day for me?"

"Rraaa ... rraaa..."

14

The next morning in my car again. It was still raining. "Today you seem much better," said Schauberg.

"I feel better too."

"Still afraid? I'd rather not give you another one of those injections you had yesterday."

"I won't need it."

'*Bravo! Better that you have a drink if things get rough. How is everything? How were the rushes?"

"Worse than ever."

His mouth began to twitch again. I did not care. He was afraid of not getting his money. I was afraid of losing mine.

Schauberg managed a smile and patted my back with the professional optimism common to doctors. "Just nerves. You're just too sensitive. In a couple of days you'll be fine, I'm sure."

"Okay, okay. Did you find a student for ..."

"I've found two. They're demanding too much money."

"I don't care."

*'But I do. One simply cannot ruin established prices! Now I'm playing one against the other."

"Time is running out!"

"I'm sure you can wait until tonight, daddy. You can rely on me."

"Schauberg—" .

I looked at the road but not at him when I asked the question.

"Schauberg, is there hope for a deaf and dumb child whose father was an alcoholic?"

Irritated he pulled his beret. "Now look here, you'll really have to pull yourself together or both of us wiU end up in a nuthouse!"

"Answer me!"

"Don't think about it. The child is not going to be bom."

"Damn, I'm not talking about this child. I mean a four-year-old boy whose father died of the d.t.'s."

"Very improbable."

"What is very improbable?"

"That the father's alcoholism is the cause. If the parents are drinkers the children may be feeble-minded or crippled but hardly deaf and dumb. There must also be a hereditary factor. Does the man have a history of deaf and dumb people in his family?"

"I don't know. Is there any chance of a cure?"

"It is not very likely."

"The mother says the child is producing sounds now."

"Adult deaf and dumb people can make sounds but they never learn to talk."

"Why not?"

"They can't hear. How could they imitate human sounds if they cannot hear them?"

It seemed reasonable.

"So you beheve the case is hopeless?"

"Completely."

**But the mother doesn't! And she is—" At the last moment I stopped myself from saying "a doctor herself."

It would have made him suspicious. A doctor? I knew another doctor? Who was she? How did I meet her?

Half the sentence was sufficient to make him suspicious; "What is his mother, dear Mr. Jordan?"

"Intelligent. Very intelligent. And objective."

"I see." He was still not sure.

Quickly I carried on, "She knows the facts. And still she believes in a cure."

"Because she loves her child, Mr. Jordan. A mother will cling to the slightest hope. But there is no cure. One can live when deaf and dumb."

"What an awful life." ' ^

"An awful life," said Schauberg, "is still better than the most beautiful death."

15

The first take this morning was very long and heavy on dialogue.

According to the script I had been a child star. I was the lover of Belinda King, whose husband, Henry Wallace, wanted me to play the lead in a movie he was producing. According to the script, I had no confidence in myself and was not at all enthusiastic about resuming my acting career. Slowly I regained my confidence until at last I would have done anything to be allowed to act.

Our film told the story of how this movie was originated in America and Germany. I became famous, the movie was a financial success, I made my comeback, was hailed a star only to be killed by the jealous Henry.

Belinda and Henry played Evelyn and Graham Will-croft. I was Carlton Webb.

The author was among those once investigated by the House Un-American Activities committee. For what the courts agreed was contempt of Congress, they were jailed. The big studios did not dare employ them thereafter. Only lately had there been some change. Kostasch had been able to put the author under contract for a reasonable amount of money after his years of famine.

Take 37/A room in Willcroft's house/indoors/evening.

CARLTON (glass in hand, near a window, watching a car pull away. Shrugging his shoulders, he crosses to the bar and refills his glass.)

EVELYN (enters upset) Graham says you refused his contract?

CARLTON (drinks, growls) That's right. Sorry, baby. I've thought it over. I'm not going to play. Have a httle drink? EVELYN (hysterical) For goodness sake! You and your damn whisky! What do you mean you're not going to play? You must play! You know what it means ... for you . . . for me . . . Carlton! You are an actor! This is your chance for a new career. A new life! CARLTON It won't work, baby.

EVELYN Why not? (shputs) Stop this drinking! Why won't it work?

CARLTON (grinning drunkenly) For one, I can't stop this, (drinks) Second, because Fm no actor. I was a handsome child. But an actor? Never!

EVELYN That's not true. You're afraid. You haven't been in a studio for a long time. You'll get used to it again. Don't you see this is your last chance? For you and for me!

CARLTON No one has a chance. Not you. Not I. No one at aU.

EVELYN (strokes Carlton tenderly) You'll be all right because you are brave and courageous. And talented. CARLTON (pushes her away roughly) Courageous ... and cunning, right? Yes. That's true. I'm as cunning and brave and courageous as the Rabbi of Krotoszin. EVELYN What are you talking about? CARLTON (walking up and down, glass in hand) That's a very . . . very edifying story. You want to hear it? So listen. The Cossacks returned once again to Krotoszin. There was another pogrom. They beat up the Jews and set fire to their houses and ...

EVELYN Carlton! Please! You're drunk! CARLTON (roughly) Shut up . . . and set fire to their houses. Finally they came to the rabbi's house . .. (sets his glass aside. Absorbed in story he acts the characters, thereby proving how good an actor he really is) ... and looted it. And then the lieutenant arrived ... (as the lieutenant) . . . and with chalk he drew a circle on the ground and said to the rabbi, "Stand inside the circle, Jew!" (as the rabbi) The rabbi stood inside the circle and while the Cossacks beat his wife and tore off his daughter's clothes the lieutenant said, (as lieutenant) "You will be silent no matter what you hear now. Whatever you see now. You will not move. If you as much as push your big toe outside this chalk circle you are a dead Jew!" EVELYN (watching Carlton, fascinated and horrified) CARLTON The Cossacks left the following morning and the survivors crawled out from the rubble of their homes. Loud laughter echoed from the house of the rabbi and they hurried there. Inside his pillaged home they found the sobbing, violated women and the rabbi still standing inside the chalk circle, and he laughed and laughed and laughed . ..

CARLTON (acting as the neighbors) He's lost his mind ... He went mad ... (as the insane rabbi) . . . and the rabbi almost choked laughing and finally he said, "The honorable lieutenant forbade me to step outside this circle no matter what I saw or heard, (laughs) But then, when-he fell upon my youngest daughter and forgot about me I carefully . . . slowly . . . pushed my big toe outside the chalk circle! And you know what? He didn't notice it! CARLTON (laughs. Suddenly breaks off. Looks at Evelyn. Pulls himself together. Reaches for his drink. He is once again himself, weak, despondent, drunk.) Do you understand, sweet? All the world is a phetto! And everyone stands inside his own chalk circle. No one can step outside it! Never. No one! And that's why I have my big toe where it is. And that's why I won't sign the contract. And

that's why I won't act. It would be futile, senseless. And ridiculous ... (He drinks, glass slips from his hand. He sways. Whisky runs from his mouth. Evelyn stares at him. He smiles crookedly.)

Camera shows both of them in the luxurious room, each one helpless, alone, in his own chalk circle.

16

From the comer of my eye I saw the camera come to a halt. Automatically I counted the seconds. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. To give the cutter sufficient footage for the following takes, the director always added thirty seconds to each take.

Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six...

The camera continued to run; it was still silent on the set; Seaton still did not call "Cut!"

Why not? I had not fluffed my lines. Belinda had not made any mistakes.

Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty—

"Cut!"'

Seaton's voice sounded strange, choked. He stared at me. Behind his chair stood Kostasch, his mouth gaping, amazement in his eyes. I saw now that the entire staff was staring at me. Someone began to applaud. Another followed. Until all of them were applauding. Behnda King embraced and kissed me. Kostasch moved, shook my hand. Seaton slapped my back so hard I stumbled.

"Boy, oh boy, oh boy!" he groaned.

They were around me, congratulating me, telling me how marvelous I had been, and I saw that they honestly meant what they said. All of them, each one inside his own chalk circle, must have felt relief.

Seaton knew now that he would continue to direct this movie. He could hope to be hired for other movies.

Kostasch did not have to vindicate himself to the Wilson Brothers or the distributor. Important people, little people. I had freed them all of the worry for their immediate future. And that's why they were all smiling.

"Peter," said Seaton, "what did you think of when you played that scene?"

"Of my dialogue."

"No, no. There was something strange happening to you .. . what did you think of?"

"Yes, Peter," Kostasch ioined in. "What was it? You suddenly seemed to be Carlton, this poor drunken fellow."

I said, "You know, I just realized that I played myself; the man hoping for his comeback. It was wrong. From now on I'm going to play Carlton, not myself."

"That's what you thought of?"

"Yes," I replied. It was a lie. I had thought of a mother and child for whom there was no hope. Two people inside a chalk circle. They had been the only thou<^ht in my mind while I was playing scene number thirty-seven.

A script, even the best, is but a script; a parable is only words, a movie is but a film.

Or had script, parable, words, film suddenly become vitalized since—for the first time—I had been moved by the sorrow of unknown people? Was that the reason why all those on the set, those strangers had applauded me?

Quickly I went to my dressing room. I called a florist anH ordered thirty red roses to be sent to Natasha. The flor'st was to buy for me the largest box of crayons and a thick sketch pad. They were to go with the roses.

"Would you like to enclose a card, Mr. Jordan?"

"No."

They were most agreeable about my request.

I stared into the big make-up mirror. Suddenly I saw my future. I would complete this film. It would be a success. And it would be the end of me, empty, burnt out,

extirpated, destroyed, unrewarded. Because, as had the rabbi, I—with the approval of my brothers in humanity—had also pushed my big toe across the chalk circle.

17

"What did T tell you?"

Seaton's voice sounded happy. Once more in the projection room I was listening to his and Kostasch's conversation after we had viewed the rushes. I did not have to listen, I knew. I knew that at last all was well: both of them had stopped praising me after the fateful thirty-seventh scene.

I hurried to Schauberg, waiting for me behind the bam. We drank together.

"Cheers, Schauberg. Everything is okay."

"What do you mean?"

"I found myself. They are satisfied with me."

"You mean: the movie is not going to be discontinued?"

"That's right. That's what I mean."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite certain. I gave a great performance today. The entire staff—"

His hand shook and he spilled half his whisky. He looked at me searchingly, his mouth twitched.

"You're not lying, dear Mr. Jordan?"

"I swear I'm not lying."

"I'm going to get my money?"

"Yes, Schauberg, yes. A miracle happened."

"A miracle happened," he repeated lost in thought, and took a long drink. "I have good news too," he finally said.

"Your student?"

"Charming person. Last semester. Demands a thousand."

"And you?"

"I do it for the sake of our friendship, dear Mr. Jordan. You're paying me enough. One hand washes the other."

"When can you do it?"

"Anytime. I only have to examine your stepdaughter beforehand."

"She is going to be a cutter at the studio."

"Can you bring her with you tomorrow morning?"

"I can arrange that."

"Excellent. Until tomorrow then. My respects to the youns lady. Is she staying at your hotel?"

"Yes."

"How convenient."

"My wife is there too." „

"How awkward. Too bad T can't ask you to give my respects to your wife too. She'll hardly come tomorrow morning."

"Good night."

"Good night, dear Mr. Jordan. And may I remind you that tomorrow is the end of the first week?"