Get Shorty Part 21

Elaine: "It's your decision. I can give you a few names, writers I know would be acceptable, like ..."

Chili listened to the names, not surprised he'd never heard of any of them. How many people knew who wrote the movies they saw?

Harry: "So we're talking development?"

Elaine: "Not till I have at least a treatment I know I can sell. It's still your project, Harry. Your decision, if you want to see how far we can run with it."

Harry: "You're saying I pay the writer. Any of the guys you mentioned, what's a rewrite gonna cost me?"

Elaine: "Depending on who you get, I would say anywhere from one-fifty to four, and a few points. Call their agents, see who's available and might want to do it."

Harry: "I love talking to agents, right next to having a case of hives. You don't think bringing Michael Weir deserves a development deal?"

Elaine: "Michael Weir signed, gagged and chained to a wall till you start shooting, I can take upstairs. I tell them Michael Weir likes the part ... Yeah? What else is new? Harry, it's your decision, think it over. Karen, I wonder if you'd stay a few minutes. If the gentlemen wouldn't mind waiting ..."

Chili got up with Harry. They started out.

Elaine: "Harry? What about romance among less than attractive people?"

Harry:"Marty?"

Elaine: "BeyondMarty. " "

Harry: "The seven-hundred-pound broad who crushes her lovers to death when she climaxes?"

Elaine: "Call me, Harry, okay?"

They waited for Karen in Harry's car, parked next to a sound stage as big as a hangar, up the street from the Hyman Tower Building and the front gate. Chili half expected to see extras walking around in period costumes and military uniforms, the way you saw them in movies about movies, but there didn't seem to be anything going on. Harry, coming out of the building, kept asking about Michael Weir. And then what did he say? He really seemed interested? How was it left? Why didn't you call me last night? Why'd you wait till in the meeting? You trying to make points? All that. Chili said, "I think you ought to listen to what Elaine says about the guy. He doesn't sound too reliable." Getting in the car, the front seat, Chili said, "Last night I noticed he's a lot shorter than I thought."

Next, Harry started b.i.t.c.hing about how studio people never come right out and say yes or no, they string you along. They put you in a high-risk position you can't afford to be in and say it's up to you.

It was hot in the car. Chili rolled down his window. "What'd she say a writer would cost?"

"Between one-fifty and four hundred thousand."

"Jesus Christ," Chili said, "just to fix it? That's what I thought she meant, but I wasn't sure. The writers do okay, huh?"

"It's the f.u.c.king agents ruining the business. Agents and the unions. But you know what? If I had the dough I'd hire one of those guys. That's how sure I am of this one."

Chili, not at all sure, didn't say anything.

"With a little luck, say if you were to run into your pal the drycleaner," Harry said, "and could negotiate me a quick loan ..."

Chili watched two young ladies walking up the middle of the studio street: long blond hair, miniskirts, a couple of Miss Californias.

"I found him, Harry."

Harry said, "Where?" jumping on it, twisting around in that tight s.p.a.ce between the seat and the steering wheel.

"What's the difference where? I took the money off him and sent it to his wife."

"You didn't."

"Three hunnerd grand. I kept ten for Bones, if I decide to pay him."

"You had the money in yourhand ?" ?"

"Take it easy, Harry." The guy looked like he might go berserk. "I didn't have to tell you, 'cause it isn't any your business, is it? But I did. Okay, so forget it."

"Three hundred thousand." Now he was shaking his head, still not looking too stable. "I don't know what good you're doing me."

"I don't raise money for you, Harry, that was never in the deal."

"What deal? I'd like to know what you do for me.

"You telling me you'd use Leo's money? Take a chance of him getting picked up-'cause he will, I know it. The first thing he'd do then is try and lay it on us, the whole con, and throw his wife in too."

Harry, staring straight ahead now, didn't say anything. He looked uncomfortable, his suit too tight for him.

Chili got out and held the door open as Karen approached the car. He couldn't tell anything by her expression. When she got close to him, before ducking inside, she said, "The visual fabric of the theme? You might just make it, Chil."

He got in back. Harry started the car but didn't move, looking at Karen. "You want to tell me what that was about?"

"Elaine's going to call Michael," Karen said. "If he shows enough interest and you have the script revised, she'll put it into development."

"f.u.c.king studios," Harry said, "they can't give you a simple yes or no, they have to intrigue it up. Why'd she tell you that and not me?"

"That wasn't why she asked me to stay," Karen said, and paused and said in a quieter tone, "Elaine offered me a job."

Harry squinted at her. "As what?"

"Production exec. Maybe vice-president in a year."

Harry said, "Jesus Christ, I don't believe it."

Chili reached over the seat to touch Karen's shoulder. He said, "Nice going," and just for a second she laid her cheek against his hand.

21.

The last person Catlett would ever imagine having a tender feeling toward was Marcella, the woman that kept the limo service going. But he had one today. Walked in from the garage through the working office where Marcella looked up from her computer to say, "Mr. Zimm has been trying to get hold of you," and Bo Catlett wanted to hug her.

He said, "You don't mean to tell me."

"He didn't leave a message. He'll call back."

"When?"

"I don't know, but he sure called a buncha times," this big doll in her pink outfit and pink-frame gla.s.ses said. Just then the phone rang on Marcella's desk. He watched her pick it up and say, "Wingate Motors Limited," dainty for a woman her size, the way she moved, the way she held her fifty-year-old head of golden hair. He had never noticed this before. Marcella said, "Yes, Mr. Catlett's here. Just a moment, please." Looked at him and nodded and this time he wanted to kiss her.

He took it in Ronnie's office, feet up on the desk, ankles crossed, looking at his shiny Cole-Haan loafers as he said, "Harry, I was thinking of calling you, man. How you doing?"

Harry said just great. The way he always did, sitting on the other side of this desk times before, here to ask for investment money-oh, everything was just great-though he did happen to have a few points left over if they wanted in. A few points meaning half the budget for the movie. In financial s.h.i.t up to his chin, no doubt as he was at this moment, Harry was just great.

"We got a deal going at Tower ..."

"OnMr. Lovejoy ?" ?"

"They're extremely high on it."

"I hear you got Michael Weir."

"Boy, this town. Word gets around, doesn't it?"

"So how can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a little working capital."

"Like how much?"

"Couple hundred."

"What's wrong with using the money we put inFreaks ?" ?"

"That's in escrow, I can't touch it."

Meaning the man had spent it. So for the time being Catlett resigned himself to forget it. Move on to bigger things.

"You offering a partic.i.p.ation inLovejoy ?" ?"

"A small one, considering it's a twenty-million-dollar shoot, minimum. Maybe twenty-five."

"So we're talking about like one percent."

"Around there."

"Or less."

"Tell me what you want," Harry said. "Let's see if we can work it out."

Listen to him. Cool for a man who was desperate or wouldn't have picked up the phone. "I was about to call you, Harry."

"Is that right?"

"Tell you how much I likeLovejoy. " "

"You read it?"

"I think so much of it, man, I'm prepared to make you a deal you might not believe. But I also want to partic.i.p.ate actively. You understand what I'm saying? I want to work on the movie with you, be part of it, man."

"I'd like to know where you got hold of a script."

"Harry, let's me and you meet someplace and have a drink. I'll tell you how you can put your hands on a hundred and seventy thousand and you won't have to give me any points or pay interest on it. You pay me back at your convenience. How's that sound?"

"You serious?" Harry said.

No mention now of the script.

"Where you want to meet?" Catlett asked him.

"I don't care," Harry said. "Where do you?"

After going around on that Catlett called the Bear, named a restaurant and asked him to be there in half an hour. When Catlett left, going out through the working office where Marcella the pink woman sat behind her computer, he wondered what it was like to go to bed with a woman you would never think of going to bed with, if it was different.

A Mexican in a white busboy coat and crummy-looking pants brought drinks to them on Karen's patio. She sounded different, so polite saying, "Thank you, Miguel. I'll see you tomorrow." The Mexican didn't say anything. He was bowlegged and had big gnarled hands on him. After Miguel went in the house Karen said, "Would you think he's only in his forties? He's been a migrant farm worker all his life. He came by one day asking to do yard work and I hired him as my houseman."

Chili sipped his drink and said, "Jesus, I don't think he put any tonic in this. It's good though."

"Miguel's learning," Karen said, and looked up at the trees. "It's nice out here, isn't it? This is my favorite time of the day."

She sounded different this evening. Neither of them said anything for a minute or so, looking at the trees and the sky changing color. It reminded Chili a little of sitting with Fay as it got dark and they waited for Leo to come home; except Leo and Fay didn't have a swimming pool. He had thought they were waiting for Harry-the plan, to go out to dinner-till Karen said Harry had already stopped by. Changed his mind, made a phone call and left. Still upset about the meeting, among other things.

Chili took the "among other things" to mean him. "He doesn't think I'm doing anything for him."

Karen turned to look at him. "Are you?"

"What's he want? I'll do it."

"He wants Michael ... But listen," Karen said, "the way Harry's acting, that's his personality. To help him, you first have to break through this barrier he sets up-doing ithis way, the independent producer, n.o.body knows anything but him. His last three pictures might've broken even, but didn't do nearly as well as his early stuff. I tried to tell him. You know why? You haven't kept up. If you're going to do low budget exploitation you either have to go much heavier on the special effects, or you have to get outrageously campy, make pictures like way, the independent producer, n.o.body knows anything but him. His last three pictures might've broken even, but didn't do nearly as well as his early stuff. I tried to tell him. You know why? You haven't kept up. If you're going to do low budget exploitation you either have to go much heavier on the special effects, or you have to get outrageously campy, make pictures likea.s.sault of the Killer Bimbos, Surf n.a.z.is Must Die, s.p.a.ce s.l.u.ts in the Slammer- they're so bad they're fun. Or, you have to approach horror in a new and different way, like they're so bad they're fun. Or, you have to approach horror in a new and different way, likeNear Dark, that I think is brilliant. A love story about a guy who falls for a vampire. But there's not one scene in a dark empty castle, the vampire dressed like Fred Astaire in white tie and tails. These are raunchy vampires; they roam around this flat, empty farmland out west in a station wagon looking for blood, hurrying to get what they need and stay out of the sun or they'll catch fire and burn up. It shows what it's really like to be a vampire," Karen said. "And I couldn't get Harry to go see it." that I think is brilliant. A love story about a guy who falls for a vampire. But there's not one scene in a dark empty castle, the vampire dressed like Fred Astaire in white tie and tails. These are raunchy vampires; they roam around this flat, empty farmland out west in a station wagon looking for blood, hurrying to get what they need and stay out of the sun or they'll catch fire and burn up. It shows what it's really like to be a vampire," Karen said. "And I couldn't get Harry to go see it."

Chili sipped his vodka and not much tonic, glad Harry wasn't here, comfortable in the cushioned patio chair, more impressed by Karen every time he talked to her. She wasn't anything like Fay, but she'd understand Fay and could play her in a minute.