Miss Wyoming

Chapter Seven

Standing alone on the sidewalk, John watched the police car drive Susan away. He was as still as a statue as the sun went down behind the hill. Had he left a car at the restaurant? No, Nylla had dropped him off there. So he decided to walk the rest of the way home. Home was temporary digs in Ivan's guesthouse, the house he grew up in and in which his mother still lived. John had been staying there since his return two months earlier from his disastrous experiment in hobodom.

He headed along Sunset Boulevard and was oblivious to the stares of passing drivers, many of whom punctuated their cell phone calls with such comments as:

* «Good Lord — it's John Johnson — walking — yes, that's right, with his feet — on Sunset!»

* «Yow, he looks like crap — what were the numbers on Mega Force in the end? — yeee — that much?»

* «Maybe he's doing his walking thing again — I mean, he looks like a Mexican gonna sell you a bag of oranges at a streetlight for a dollar.»

* «Yes, I'm absolutely sure it's him — he looks really thin, or should I say, not sort of bloated like he was before detox number 239.»

* «Wasn't he in the hospital? — pneumonia? AIDS? — no, if it was, we'd all know.»

* «Maybe he's gone and found God again. Whatta case.»

Ivan spotted John from his Audi and pulled over just past the corner at Gretna Green. «John-O, what the fuck are you doing? Hop in.»

«Ivan, what do you know about Susan Colgate?»

«Susan Colgate? TV — rock and roll. Get in the car and I'll tell you. Jesus, you smell like the carpet in a Gold's Gym changing room.»

«I walked here from the Ivy.»

«The Ivy? That's, like, a jeezly number of miles away.»

«Ivan, what do you know about Susan Colgate?»

Ivan cut the car back into traffic. «Later. Later. Did you see the weekend numbers from France and Germany? Whoosh!»

«Ivan — » John was firm: «Susan Colgate.»

«Everybody in town is going to think you've gone crazy again. Walking. On Sunset, no less. Shit.»

«I don't care, Ivan.Susan. »

«What — you want to, uh, cast her in a movie ?»

«Maybe.»

«You're gonna make her a star ?» They both laughed. Ivan pulled the Audi into his driveway, entered a code into his dash panel, releasing the gate. They drove through, depositing the car by the front steps instead of the garage. They got out. Ivan stopped and grabbed John's arm before he walked down the hill to the guesthouse. «God, whatta gorgeous day, John-O. Look at the light coming through that mimosa tree. It looks backlit, like it's on Demerol.»

Both men sat down on the front entryway's limestone pavers and watched the late afternoon's solar aureoles around the plants and birds and insects of Ivan's garden.

«Where were you coming from just now?» John asked.

«Temple, temple, temple.»

«Three times a week still?»

«Sí.» The sprinklers kicked in by a dahlia patch. Ivan said, «So you're in love, then, John-O? With Susan Colgate — ha!»

«I'm in …need. Desperate need.»

«Where'd you meet?»

«The Ivy. Today.»

«Lunch? Today?» He whistled. «That's a quick turnaround.»

«A half-year ago in Cedars when I, you know — she's who I saw when I died.»

Ivan's body locked upon hearing this. «Now,John-O — I thought you were over that stuff.»

«Over what, Ivan? I have no regrets, but what I did only took me so far. But Susan — she's it. She's gotta be the one.»

Ivan was both worried that John was relapsing back into his despondency of the months before, and slightly excited at the idea his friend might be making an emotional connection, something he'd never done before. «What do you know about her, John-O?»

«That's what I've been asking you. »

«I think her agent's Adam Norwitz. She was with Larry Mortimer until a few years ago. An ugly split. She stalked him. And I don't think she's worked since the grunge era. Say, 1994. A slasher flick? No, wait, it's some new one — Dynamite Bay? I'm glad for you, but I've gotta say up front, John-O, she's real C-list. She can't act her way out of a paper bag.»

«Ivan, you ought to know not to slag somebody's loved one to his face.»

«Loved one?»

«Word games.»

They heard steps behind them — Nylla, holding a silent baby. «Having our funzies out here on the front steps, are we, boys?»

«Hey, Nylla.»

«John, hello. Will you be eating with us in the big house tonight?»

«Nah. Thanks. I'm having Metrecal and celery with Ma down at the house.»

«Congratulations on the French numbers over the weekend. Ooh-lah-lah.»

«We did okay over there?»

«John-O, I tried to tell you back when I picked you up at Gretna Green. Hey Nylla, guess what — John-O's in love! Lovesy-dovesy. Susan Colgate.»

«Susan Colgate!» said Nylla. «Oh John, that's so weird. So exciting. I used to love her in that old show of hers,Meet the Blooms. »

John's face confirmed the truth.

«Well, I must say,» smiled Nylla, «nature works in mysterious ways to get us to propagate the species.»

«They met at Ivy today at lunch.» Ivan couldn't contain himself.

She's the woman I saw in my out of body experience when I was laid up in Cedars.»

The smile muscles on Nylla's face changed like a tide, ebbing from real into phony. «Well then.Really now,» she trailed off. Ivan, sitting behind John, shot her a worried glance. «Be true to your heart. You two want to come in for a drink?»

«I'm in. You, John-O?»

«Nah. I'm going to go phone Adam Norwitz.»

«Adam — » said Nylla. «Say hello for me. He represented me for about six minutes a few years ago.»

«Hey. I was talking to his agency today,» said Ivan. «His number's still in my cell's memory.» He pulled out his cell phone and punched some digits. Two seconds later he said, «Adam Norwitz, please. John Johnson calling.» He handed the phone to John. «Here.»

John gave Ivan the hairy eyebrow and took the phone. «Hello, Adam?»

Adam was on: «John Johnson . Good to meet you today. How can I help you? And congrats again on Mega Force .»

«Yeah, yeah, thanks. Hey, Adam, I need a home number from you. Susan's.»

Adam hemmed and hawed as though his morals were in serious conflict.

«Adam, don't give me that discretion routine. I need Susan's phone number.»

«I'm not sure if I can …»

«It's personal, not business. Call and ask her if it's okay if you want. And I'll owe you a big favor.»

«Of course I'll give you her number. But it's not» — he rustled some papers into the phone's receiver — «right here right now. Give me five minutes, okay?»

«Five minutes or no deal.»

They hung up. Adam immediately called Susan's line and got her machine, where he left a message: «Susan! Swimming with the big fish now, are we? None other than your strolling companion John Johnson just phoned asking me for your number. He says it's personal.Hmmmmm. Well, just so you know, I'm going to phone back right now and give it to him. A protocol breach, but that's what I'm here for. And phone me, why don't you, and let me in on the buzz. I'm on cell all night. Bye.»

Adam called back John and gave him Susan's number, which John wrote on the back of one of Ivan's business cards. He hung up. Ivan and Nylla stared at him.

«Yes?» said John.

«Call her,» said Nylla.

«What, with you guys here?»

«Yes, with us guys here.»

John dialed and got Susan's answering machine. He whispered the words «answering machine» to Ivan and Nylla. And then he left a message: «Susan, it's John — Johnson. I hope you got home okay. Man, was it ever hot today and — oh jeez, I'm stuttering into your machine.» He paused to gather his thoughts. «Well, you know what I feel like today? It's like this: the last little while I've been feeling as if — as if I've come back from a long trip away — and I've been continuing on with my life again, but it's only today that I realized something went missing while I was gone. And I think it's you, and I want to see you again so badly I think I'm going blind. So call me.» He left his number.

Nylla's eyes were beginning to tear. «Come inside and eat with us,» Nylla asked. «Please,» she added. The baby woke up and screamed. «I'll ask Doris, too.»

And so John went inside to eat with Ivan and Nylla.

Half a year ago, just as John left the city and became a dharma bum, the couple had had a daughter, MacKenzie. She wailed like a crack baby and had a cluster of medical firestorms that had left Ivan and Nylla frazzled, but especially Nylla. Sleepless nights and worries had made her a soccer mom, and Ivan was converting into a soccer dad. Their kitchen was a shambles and all the more pleasant for it. «Watch where you sit,» said Nylla. «I think Mac might have had a minor exorcism on that seat.»

«Help us choose a name for the next one,» said Ivan.

«No!» said John. «Congratulations.»

Nylla rolled her eyes. «I feel like somebody's science project.»

Ivan said, «I like the name Chloris — what do you think of Chloris — if it's a girl?»

Before John could reply, Nylla asked, «Can Borgnine be a first name if you want it to be one?»

«How about Tesh,» suggested John. «It'd work for both.»

«Merveilleux!» Nylla spoke French.

And so the two parents once again lapsed into banter and John pulled himself away ever so slightly.This is what Ivan wanted, thought John. This is a salve for him — his ability to lose himself in a family. And for Nylla, too. The year before, Ivan and Nylla had been like best friends, but now they were absolutely husband and wife. They were content with themselves and with the place their lives had landed. Their train had stopped and this is where they'd hopped off.

John wouldn't dare mention to them the depression he felt when Ivan had told him he was getting married. It was a few years ago, during the emotionally murky period after having two films flop, and their industry currency had been much devalued. To John, two flops meant a time to change and evolve and go forward — but Ivan had chickened out. He'd invented himself as much as he was ever going to. He was going to take the Full Meal Deal and fade away and make medium-budget teen movies that opened big the first weekend and then died of bad word-of-mouth. It was like a slap to John, who had wanted to go on and on, reinventing himself, and had continued to try doing so.

John suspected that his recent crack-up was precipitated by being, if not abandoned by Ivan, then certainly relegated to second place. He felt selfish even thinking about it, and tried to put it out of mind.

But John did want to reinvent himself, still. Even at thirty-seven, after his castastrophic fuckup.

John loved Ivan and Nylla, and he valued the world they'd built for themselves. Yet he knew that fairly soon, there in the kitchen, after Mac was given to the nanny and hauled upstairs, Nylla would gently grill John about Susan Colgate. She'd be careful not to dwell on the negative — his recent past — and then both she and Ivan would try to steer John closer to the road's center.

John wasn't without hesitations in his feelings for Susan. He'd followed his instincts in big ways before, but with his two flop movies and his Kerouac routine, it seemed his instincts now only failed him despite Mega Force's current stamina. Yet with Susan he felt only pure emotion. There was nothing strategic about the attraction. It was a rush of feelings that could only be satisfied by establishing further closeness. He wouldn't make money from his feelings. He wouldn't achieve cosmic bliss — he would only be …closer to Susan.

MacKenzie began to bellow like a Marine World exhibit, and Nylla and Ivan carted her up to her nursery. John picked up TV Guide and scanned its pages trying to locate reruns of Meet the Blooms, growing frustrated as he was unable to locate any.