Loved In Pieces (36 page)

I went outside when I saw that the sun was setting, an
incomprehensibly
beautiful time of day. The orange and red glows from the sun reflected on the ocean and colored the lush green treetops with an amber haze.
The
color from any blossom popped out of the amber-green mosaic. I saw only a dozen houses from over a mile away on the Pacific Palisades ridge. I escaped Santa Monica, Brentwood, and Los Angeles. I was in my own world. I was at peace
until my phone rang
.

“Hi, Mom.” I put the cell on speaker. I was not happy that she interrupted the sunset.

“Celia just chatted with me. I can tell
you’re
upset. I need to explain and clarify. I’m not one of those evil Hollywood controlling mothers from which SAG tries to protect child actors.”

The Screen Actors Guild is the union to which all performers and crew belong. It sets the guidelines for the treatment of child actors, recommending how they should be paid and regulating the maximum number of hours they are allowed to work. I was protected from being naked or doing stunt work, performing anything that could be considered “morally compromising” or being in a sexual act.
On set, the SAG representative was there every day,
making sure the director was protecting the SAG union members. One time, the SAG rep made one of the actors move away from me because she was concerned that the second hand smoke
from his cigarette
was too close to me.
Celia wanted to know how
Mom
got around the SAG representative who would have been on the set of
Left to Die
the day that the director filmed the rape scene. Celia truly believed that the rape scene was morally compromising but few industry people thought so. The conservatives sure thought so when the film came out, but all the controversy guaranteed that practically everyone on the planet who had a few extra bucks in their wallet saw the movie.

I interrupted, “I know, Mom. I’m not upset. You just killed my buzz. I am in the hot tub. The sunset is extraordinary.”

“Oh, Marie,” she laughed. “
You’re
so simply pleased by the smallest joys.
You’re
very special, dear.”

“Thanks, Mom. So how did you get around SAG filming that rape scene?”

“Ha! Straight to the point, just like Celia. I like that, you know.” She enjoy
ed
speaking to me. Good. She did not feel guilty
. S
he was not a Hollywood monster mother.

“
Martin
is brilliant
. The contracts we signed when you were thirteen bound you to your agent and film studio
for
only
five years
,
until you were eighteen, a legal adult. You were required to do two projects per year at first, but we negotiated that you only needed to do
four
feature films within the contract period and that you could produce your own work as long as you met your promotional obligations for the
four
studio films.”
Mom
sounded proud of herself.

“What your agent and studio did not know, was that
Martin
simultaneously set you up as a producer of the
Left to Die
project and prepared your paperwork to seek emancipation for a child actor, which you were allowed to apply for at fourteen years old in California.

“You met the requirements to become emancipated: need for personal gain, maturity to handle adult responsibilities, and financial independence.

“
Martin
submitted your request for emancipation to the courts and you received the Declaration of Emancipation when
Left to Die
was in the editing room, before the project was complete. Since you were fourteen and would be emancipated before
Left to Die
hit theaters,
Martin
was sure that SAG could not come after us
for
filming suggestive sex with a minor.”

“Ok
ay
, so how does that affect me now? How does it affect Muse?” I asked, wanting to both know and not know the answer. It was a good news/bad news worry. How far trapped
was
I?
Was
I a fly in a black widow’s web?

“The producers are Richard, myself, Ira, and
you
. You have your own production company,
Marie Michael Productions,
a mini-studio. That’s how it’
s done with stars. I have my o
wn production company, too. It’
s a lot better than being tied to a movie studio. Trust me, I was so tightly bound to the
‘
Rose
’
projects, I had no choice but to do the TV series.” She paused, waiting to see if she needed to say more.
Mom
only tells what is necessary, never more. Being in this business for so long has made her guarded, even with family.

“How come I wasn’t listed as a producer on the credits?”

“You didn’t need to be, except in the Hollywood accounting. But don’t worry about that, dear. I promise you that none of us are cheating you out of anything. Like the rest of us, you get gross points, a percentage of
gross
revenue, rather than net profit participation. Based on each producer’s percentage of ownership in the project, we share in the production, distribution, and marketing overhead. Rather than billing your birthday party to just your share of the marketing overhead, we essentially all pay for it.”

“I didn’t know that I paid for my own party. I thought the studio did. Now I see.
Interesting. I guess I’m a businesswoman,” I laughed.

“Yes,
you’re
very talented,
d
ear.”

“So I screw all of you, my family, if I quit Muse. Mom, this really sucks.”

“I know,
d
ear. And, I won’t lie to
you. There’
s more.
You’re
bound by the production contracts you have with us. But we’ll talk about it when I get home. We all want this t
o work out, and we all love you,
”
Mom
said sincerely.

I sighed. Of course there was more. There was always more.

“Marie, we just want you to focus on school and relaxing for now. Go shopping
. B
uy some new shoes or something.”

I laughed, picturing myself buying my one
-
thousandth pair of shoes.
Mom
love
d
shoes. Every time she got mad at
Dad
when they were married, she would storm out of the house, go to Fred Segal on Broadway and 5
th
in Santa Monica, and come home happier with a new pair of shoes or a bag.
T
he departments
we
re separated into little nooks, as if you were strolling on a curved path in a quaint little street market. The staff
wa
s aloof.
Mom
could find all the brands she liked, banter the help, and no one would stare. It was private.

“No, Mom. No
shopping
today. Yuck!”

“Oh, Marie. Some day you will see what
you’re
missing! I want to go shopping now. I can’t wait to get back!”

“Well, thanks for explaining. We’ll talk about
‘
Muse
’
after graduation. I really n
eed to eat and study some more.”

“Wait, what happened with Manny?”

“
W
e’re good. But I
realized that I can’t live without him
.” I took a big breath. “He decided to cool it with having sex, but
I worry that I’ll lose him if I don’t sleep with him.”

“I don’t understand
.
”

“Mom, Renee told me
how it goes
. I loved Evan and lost him because I didn’t show him. I love Manny
with all my heart
.
If I don’t have sex, he won’t think I love him.”

“Oh, no, dear.
Be true to yourself, please.
Manny und
erstands now.
I’m sure of it.”

“I hope you’re right.
Otherwise I’ll do what I have to do.
Love you, Mom.”

“
Stay strong, Marie.
I love you
to pieces
. G
oodn
ight.”

I reached out of the hot tub and pressed “end” on my cell. I turned to reach for my towel but was startled
to find
a large black spider on it. I bravely shook
the spider off
, careful to
see
where it had fallen to
be sure it would not crawl
on me. Of course, I could not help but think that I was very much the struggling fly trapped in the black widow’s web. I only
then
realized how incessant that web was.
This was a web that could only collapse on itself if I broke it.

I put down
my
history book
when
I heard the front door open and then close.

“There weren’t any photographers here when I got off work this morning,” Manuel wondered. “I was all ready to punch someone.”

I
beamed
as he crawled on the bed next to me. I was
in my sweats, he was in his bus
boy uniform, shoes off, of course. It was after midnight.

“Well, they want photos of us together. So there will be many cameras this morning whe
n we leave for school. I cancel
ed with Elise for today because I need to get some sleep. I can’t deal with the pain of physical exertion after such a tough weekend. Maybe we should take your Vespa, helmet free. Give the fans what they want.” I laughed.

Turning to my side to make sure he looked intently in
to
my eyes, I added. “And please, please don’t punch
,
push
,
flip off, cuss out
,
or even speak to a photographer. You’ll make things worse and can seriously get sued.”

He understood. “I promise to restrain myself. I can do this because you are more than worth it.”

He kissed my forehead and then quickly kissed my lips. He was off the bed in an instant. He headed for the bathroom and I followed to the closet and changed into my pajamas. I had already brushed my teeth so I got into bed, happy that he’d be staying the night.

H
e settled
o
nto his pillow and held my hand. “Do you mind if we go to sleep right now?
I’m
exhausted. I didn’t sleep at all
Friday night or
last night.”

“
Sorry last night was tough.”

“Don’t be. I got a tattoo just now when you flashed that smile of yours. It will get easier to be so close to you in bed.”

“
Good night,” I sighed and reached over to turn off the light. “Love you.”

“Hmm.
I have to say my prayers.
” Manuel put his hand around my waist. He
mumbled and then
said, “Amen,”
kissed my cheek and then settled into his pillow. “
Love you, too, Marie.
Buenos sueños
.
”

I laid there for several minutes before I fell asleep thinking about how grateful I was that Manuel was in my life. I wondered if
his prayers
made a difference. I didn’t understand why he needed them. My mother thought that she had failed me by not nurturing my spirituality. I wasn’t so sure I had a unique spirituality. I just didn’t want to be naughty and didn’t want to hurt people. I had so much money that I felt better donating it than buying superficial things with it. That wasn’t really a spiritual v
alue
, it was a compassionate one.

I woke up the next morning feeling great. I was so happy. I took a moment to assess how my body felt. I had a slight headache, nothing intense. My vision was clear. Then I realized I didn’t feel nauseous.

Manuel asked, “Why are you smiling?”

I turned to him, overjoyed. “I’m glad you’re awake.  I can’t believe it
.
I don’t feel like puking and I can see you!”

“What?”

“You know, my vision takes a while to clear but it’s clear
already
and my headache isn’t so bad. I actually want to eat something.”

“Well, great!” Manuel lifted me out of bed. “Let’s fatten you up!”