Baca Read online

  “Do they remove the horseshoes?”

  “They pry it off and leave it in the bottom of the bowl. Iron’s good for you.”

  “I think I’ll stick to my Flintstones chewables.”

  We went inside and picked out our items, then took them to the cook who worked with amazing skill on the enormous circular iron cooking top as he seared the ingredients and added our sauces and spices, then returned the now cooked items to new plates. The server led us to a corner and sat us behind a couple of guys who were talking and using their hands for lots of emphasis.

  I made Hondo move so I could sit closest to them and eavesdrop. He shook his head, but he’s used to it. I ate and listened.

  “I tell you, Bob-O, this is our big chance. It’s not like the cattle calls at open auditions. Just select ones were notified. This is big, and we’re in.”

  Bob-O said, “I’m stoked about this, Davester. This is hu-mongo, Mega hu-mongo. A Michael Bay movie with supporting roles that are perfect for us, just perfect!”

  Davester said, “It’s a cold read, though. I wish we had the sides; I do better if I can study my sides.”

  Bob-O said, “Let’s get there early tomorrow, say eight o’clock. That’s an hour before our schedule time. Maybe they’ll give the sides out and we can go over them. You sure we have the address?”

  I heard paper being unfolded and then Davester, God bless him, said, “Got it right here: the Le Montrose, 900 Hammond St., just a couple of blocks south of Sunset. We go to the meeting room.” I heard the paper fold and then Davester leaned forward to whisper, which made me have to lean my head back so far I could see the ceiling.

  But it was enough. Davester said, “And our password is…” He paused for dramatic effect, “TBA. It’s secret code for The Bay Auditions. You don’t say that, you don’t get in.”

  They high-fived each other and Davester said, “And man, that’s cool.”

  Bob-O said, “Yeah, Mike-O always does the cool stuff.”

  Mike-O.

  I waited for more but there was a sudden silence. I leaned my head further back but neither of the actors was talking. I took a quick look at Hondo. He smiled like he was enjoying something.

  Bob-O deepened his voice to make it more threatening, “Mister, this is a private conversation.”

  I twisted around to face them. I smiled and stuck out my hand. I said, “Hi fellows, I’m Rafe McCawley, Professor Rafe McCawley, and this,” I pointed to Hondo, “is Professor Evelyn Johnson.” I pronounced Evelyn as Ev-lin, but Hondo’s eyebrows rose up a little anyhow. “We’re geologists, work for the LA Basin Geologist and Earthquake Prevention Organization,” I pointed up at the ceiling, “See that nano-quake frequency indication up there, Professor?”

  Hondo wasn’t playing along. He just looked at me. I turned back to my audience, “That, men, is from the aftershock that went through this area last week.”

  Dave-O said, “We had an aftershock? When was the quake?”

  “Smart fellow. Are you a geologist too?”

  “No, I’m an actor.”

  “Well, I’ll continue then. These nano-quake indicators are throughout the area, as you can imagine, but to read them, well, our new research has shown us that ceilings, yes ceilings, may be the breakthrough we’ve been searching for in earthquake prediction.” I patted Bob-O’s arm and said, “You fellows will be happy to know that you-we are sitting on the right side of the restaurant in case of a major quake, which could occur any second by the way.”

  “What do you mean we’re sitting on the right side?”

  I pointed at the ceiling and said, “This is my crystal ball and it tells me,” I nodded at the other side, “That half of the restaurant is toast. In the next major quake, it will drop into the ocean. But our side, the good side, will suddenly have the best ocean view in Southern California and you can watch all those other patrons surf to Tahiti.”

  I leaned closer and said in my most serious tone, “Whatever you do, when you come to The Mongolian, never, ever sit on that side. I’m saving your lives here.”

  Bob-O said, “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow back at ya,” I said.

  “Thank you Professor McCawley,” Bob-O said.

  Dave-O said, “Yeah, thanks a lot. And thank you too, Professor Johnson.”

  They left, but not before shaking our hands like we were wealthy benefactors. When they were gone Hondo said, “You pulled those names from a Michael Bay movie.”

  “Pearl Harbor.”

  “Uh-huh. Any particular reason you named me after Kate Beckinsale’s nurse and you used Ben Affleck’s hero for yourself?”

  “It was all I could think of at the time, and you don’t look anything like Ben Affleck.”

  “Hah, neither do you, and since it seems to have escaped your attention, I don’t look like Kate Beckinsale either.”

  “Point taken,” I studied his face for a long second, “Then again, there’s something about the eyes…”

  Hondo grinned, “At least you got us a way into the audition. That was good.”

  “Thank you. This could be our big break.” I finished my plate and rose from the seat.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Seconds. It’s a buffet.”

  One hour and two full stomachs later we reached our office and parked in the gym’s lot, which also serves as our parking area only because our office shares a mutual wall with Archie’s gym.

  Arch is the eighty-year-old bodybuilder who owns both buildings. He was a native Californian who worked out with and competed against the likes of Frank Zane, Franco Columbo, Dave Draper, and Arnold Schwarzenegger in their early years. But he made his money playing muscular badasses in all those B-motorcycle movies in the sixties and seventies and that’s what he used to buy the building thirty years ago when property was still affordable.

  Arch lives in the big two-story apartment that makes up the back third of the gym, so he’s always around.

  When we got out of Shamu, Arch walked out of the gym’s doors wearing a sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off at the shoulders. He came over to us carrying our mail, which is delivered to his gym.

  Arch is also our Agent. He doesn’t go out and hustle us film or TV gigs, but he does keep his Agency license current. In Los Angeles, you have to have an agent or you won’t get your career off of “start”. Arch got the agency license when he was acting so he could also make the agent’s fees for putting himself in a role. When he gave up acting, he kept the license out of something like nostalgia.

  Anyhow, it’s good for us, and Archie is a prompt mail deliverer, so we get our bills and mailed rejections right on time.

  Arch does it as a favor to us, but it’s also so he can snoop through our mail. He doesn’t open them, but he likes to keep track of what we’re getting.

  This was mostly magazines we used to find new casting calls and upcoming trends that might lend opportunities to our struggling acting careers: IndieSlate, the Hollywood Reporter, Daily Variety, and several envelopes offering us great deals on credit cards.

  Most actors around town worked different jobs to augment their acting careers. We worked as Private Investigators to augment ours. Whatever it takes.

  Arch stood with us, stretching and flexing his arms. He had just finished his workout and he was pumped. His arms were huge, and as dark and hard as burnished oak logs. Not a lot of eighty-year-old men like him around. Of course, he dates women in their twenties and thirties. That helps too, I imagine.

  Arch said, “Hondo, some girl came by earlier looking for you. She was a good-looking number, too. I told her she could wait in my living room, but she said she couldn’t stay around.”

  I said, “You scared her off, didn’t you. Probably rubbed your hands together and cackled like a crazy old man.”

  Arch said to Hondo, “You been putting up with him all day?”

  Hondo nodded, “He’s a little pissy because they didn’t ask him to be in the commercial.”

  �
��I am not,” I said. “My appearances before the cameras are for art, not crass commercialism. I’m not so desperate that I’ll appear in just anything.”

  Arch hawed and slapped his thigh. “Ronny, you’d pose for a wanted poster if they told you it was going to be on television.”

  Hondo said, “What did she look like?”

  “Young, maybe nineteen, twenty, and beautiful, I mean a real heart-stopper. Don’t know if she was an athlete, but she carried herself like one. Bad, bad hairdo though, all short and ragged, like it was cut with a chainsaw. Definitely not a good look for her. She wore sunglasses so I couldn’t see her eyes. And she kept checking around like somebody looking for the boogeyman.”

  “Did she say what she wanted?”

  “Nope, didn’t say she’d be back, either.”

  Hondo shrugged. “Thanks Arch.”

  Arch said, “No problem-o. Hey Ronny, go take a chill pill. You have to face the fact that Hondo’s more photogenic than you. Come to think of it, so am I. Haw!” With that, he grinned and went into the gym.

  I unlocked the office door and as we stepped inside, Hondo stopped. There was a handwritten note lying in the center of his desk. Hondo said, “I’m assuming you didn’t put that there.”

  “Not me. I’ve been with you all day.” I examined the lock on our office door while Hondo read the note once in silence, then aloud to me: “Thank you for saving my life. I’m sorry I had to break in, but I couldn’t wait for you. It’s been a long time since anyone helped me, much less risked what you did. I will never forget it. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.” Hondo said, “She signed it: Grateful.” He rolled the note into a tube and tapped it against his palm.

  I said, “At least she thanked you.”

  “Uh-huh. Broke into our office to do it.”

  I said, “She didn’t leave a mark on the door, either.”

  “What did I do, save a professional thief? First, she steals a car off a sales lot in broad daylight and nobody sees her, then she disappears from sight at the scene of an accident, and now she breaks in after talking to Archie. That’s ballsy.”

  “Or desperate,” I said.

  “Desperate, yeah.”

  “Like you said, she’s running.”

  “From the people in the pickup,” Hondo said.

  “Yep. We need to find out who they are, then we can get a better ID on this phantom girlfriend of yours.”

  “We can start tomorrow. The news tape will be delivered in the afternoon, they said around three.”

  “What about the audition?”

  “We’ll have time.”

  I said, “Okay, so tomorrow’s good. Right now, I need to go home and take some alka-seltzer or something. My stomach’s rumbling like Krakatoa.”

  “Next time don’t eat so much.”

  “Hey, it was a buffet. I’m obligated by law to overeat.”

  “Remember those words at three AM when nuclear heartburn hits.”

  He was right.

  **

  The Le Montrose is a trendy hotel that a lot of rock stars and movie stars use. I got there a little before eight and went into the lobby.

  I saw the two actors from the Mongolian coming toward the front door and I stood where they could see me. I looked at the ceiling and frowned.

  They came over and Bob-O touched my shoulder and said, “Professor McCawley?”

  “Oh, hello fellows,” I studied them for a second, then said, “Oh yeah, the Mongolian, right?”

  “Yes sir,” said Davester. He cleared his throat and continued, “What, what are you doing here?”

  I pointed at the ceiling, “Got a call about the nano-quake last night that epi-centered here at this hotel. It’ll take about an hour for me to okay the building. I’ve already ordered a group of folks that were in the meeting room to vacate until it’s safe. You boys should leave too, just in case. Come on back at nine and check with me.”

  Bob-O said, “How come nobody else is leaving?”

  I leaned close to them, “These are my assistants, trained especially to act as stand-ins for real people. We use them to avoid panic. They look natural, don’t they?”

  Bob-O said, “They sure do.”

  “We don’t want panic. Panic is bad, especially in L.A. Lots of emotional people here, with all the actors and agents and directors.” I winked at them, “But you fellows look like you’re solid. I wouldn’t worry about you two panicking.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” I saw Hondo coming through the doors and said, “Hello Professor Johnson.”

  That was the deal clincher for the actors. Bob-O said, “Thanks for the warning Professor. We’ll be leaving now. And we won’t panic or anything.”

  “I know I can count on you.” They shook my hand and stopped Hondo to shake his hand before leaving.

  Hondo came up and said, “I don’t even want to know.”

  I said, “Let’s go to the meeting room and use the secret code, see if we can get in early.”

  There was a gorgeous green-eyed redhead sitting at a small desk by the meeting room door. She looked up as we approached.

  “Yes?”

  “TBA,” I winked at her. “Nothing like a little secrecy, huh?”

  “The first auditions aren’t scheduled for another hour. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”

  “I know, but we really need to do ours early, it’s a matter of life or death.”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled as she rested her chin on her hand and looked at me. “Is that right?”

  Oh, I am a sucker for green eyes. I said, “By the way, what’s your name?”

  “Colleen, what’s yours?”

  “I’m Ronny Baca, and this is my comical sidekick Hondo Wells. Most of us call him Gabby Wells, like Gabby Hayes from the old cowboy movies.”

  She laughed and leaned back, glancing down at a paper on the desk as she looked from it to us. She said, “I don’t see your names here.” Colleen turned those green eyes on Hondo and said, “So, Mr. Wells how are you? I recognized you from the news last week. All you needed for that rescue was a cape and a big S on your chest to let people know who you were.”

  Hondo gave her a smile and said, “I always leave that stuff at home when I go fishing. All I had on were shorts.”

  “Oh, I know.” She smiled back.

  Colleen studied the paper for a long second, then said, “Okay you two, I’m not supposed to do this, but I’m going to add your names and let you audition. But don’t tell anyone.”

  “Our lips are sealed,” I said and held up my fingers in the Boy Scout promise.

  **

  Colleen went through the door and came back in less than a minute. She gave us three pages of sides and said, “Ronny, you’re up.”

  “Don’t we get a few minutes to look it over?”

  “If you actually had an appointment we’d give you a few minutes, but since you’re pretty much crashing the audition, then no. Good luck.”

  I opened the door and went in. The Le Montrose Meeting Room is impressive. A red carpet runs down the center of a room of ornate wooden chairs and passes between two red velvet curtains tied with gold cord. On the back wall is a black sign with “Le Montrose” angled across it in twenties style calligraphy. In front of the sign was a long desk where four busy people sat. Two others adjusted a camera positioned at the right side of the desk.

  I saw my mark and stopped on it.

  One person, who was shuffling papers back and forth like a Las Vegas card shark said, “So you’re an add-on, that right?”

  “Yes sir.”

  He looked up, “We all know you crashed the audition, so let’s get that out of the way first. We’ll let you slide this time, but don’t ever try it again on me. Understood?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Okay. I’m David Gleason. Let’s hear your slate, then you’ll be reading with Vince here.” He pointed at the man to his right.

  I did my slate and read with Vince, w
ho really gave some emotion to the lines. When we finished, David said, “Thank you.”

  I didn’t leave. He looked at me, “What?”

  “Could I do it again? I think I can do better.”

  David looked at the others, then back at me. “You’ve got some balls, I’ll give you that. Let’s do it again.” So we did, and I sucked worse that time than the first.

  CHAPTER 3

  I waited outside and flirted with Colleen while Hondo went in and read. When he came out we said our goodbyes and walked through the lobby just as Bob-O and Davester came through the entrance.

  I gave them the head-nod and a thumbs-up just in case they missed the head-nod. “Good news fellows, no major damage.” I looked around, then went to them and talked in a low voice, “I don’t know if you two are interested, but they’re doing auditions in the meeting room for some big, big movie. Don’t tell anyone I told you.” When we got outside Hondo bopped me on the shoulder.

  “Oww.”

  “That’s for fooling those two.”

  “Hey, they were still on time for their auditions. Besides, it helps me polish my improv skills.”

  “That stuff is going to bite you on the ass one of these days, just wait and see.”

  “Hah, it might just save my ass one of these days, just wait and see.” Hondo put one arm around my neck in a playful hug. His arms are long and powerful.

  I said, “This reminds me of that time in the jungle when that big python wrapped around my neck.”

  “You were never in a jungle and you’ve never had a python around your neck. We were in a big bad desert and big, terrible mountains. How soon we forget.”

  My great friend’s arm was still there, but only laying on my shoulders. I said, “Yeah, but if a python had ever wrapped around my neck…”

  Hondo said, “They told me to expect a callback.”

  “They did?”

  “They didn’t tell you the same thing? My, my.”

  “Crap.”

  “Nice of you to congratulate me.”