17

THE MOVIE

The next montage, scored by dramatic orchestral rearrangements of the main theme, reveals Blair receiving a phone call at the studio, becoming alarmed, and rushing out to her car. She drives recklessly through the dark Hollywood streets until she reaches Sugar Hill. Ray and Loretta Webster greet her at their house.

“I had just finished shooting some nights scenes, and we’d wrapped for the day when I got the call from Ray. Hank was hurt. He was hurt bad. I had to get to him. My love … my love …! What did they do to you? Oh my God …!”

The Websters take her into Hank’s bedroom and Blair stifles a scream. She then indicates that she will take over and thanks them.

Blair returned to Hank’s bedroom, carrying the bowl of ice and more cloths. Earlier, she had tried to convince him to go to the hospital, but he stubbornly refused. He was convinced nothing was broken.

“You could have internal injuries,” she said as she sat on the bed next to him. “They kicked you in the stomach. Hank, when you went to the bathroom, was there any blood?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he said weakly.

“Well, keep an eye out for that.” She wrapped some ice in a rag and gently massaged the red bruises on his face. “This will help the swelling go down. Does it help the pain?”

“Yes. I feel fine now.”

“Ha. That whiskey I gave you is what you’re feeling. Hank, honey, you’re going to be sore for days. How are your hands? They didn’t hurt your piano-playing fingers, did they?”

“No, thank God. They spared me that horror.”

She wanted to cry. Blair hated to see him so battered. “And you sure you don’t know who they were?”

“Just white men. Probably from your studio.” He said it with venom in his voice.

That made her feel terrible. “They’re bastards, Hank. I bet Eldon Hirsch sent them. He must have gotten wind of us. Don’t you think?” Hank nodded. “In fact, I bet I know who it was. There’s this guy who works at the studio. His name is Buddy Franco. Did he have a crew cut, like he just got out of the army?” Hank nodded again. “Late thirties, maybe forty years old?” Again, the affirmative response. “That’s him. They say he’s a studio executive, but he’s really a fixer. He makes studio problems go away. That’s his job.”

She leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer. The revolver was still there. “Maybe you should carry this around with you to your gigs,” she said.

“Honey, if I did that and the police stopped me for any reason at all and found that, I’d go to prison for life. Hell, they might just go on and shoot me, no questions asked.”

She picked up the gun and held it in her hand, pointing it at the far wall. “I’m getting pretty good at hitting the targets, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are. You’re a regular Annie Oakley.”

Blair laughed and put the gun back in the drawer. “Well, keep the thing handy here. You have a right to defend yourself.”

Hank cleared his throat and spoke. “Baby, we have to … we have to stop this.”

“What?”

He opened his eyes a little wider, despite the puffy, purpling flesh around them. “If we don’t stop seeing each other, they’ll be back. Honey, I … I don’t care what they do to me; it’s you I’m concerned about. They will ruin your career. I knew a fella once. This was back in Missouri. He and a white girl got together only one time. He was lynched by a mob, and she was killed by her own father.”

“That was Missouri. This is California, Hank. That’s not going to happen here. Not in 1948.”

“They gonna hurt you other ways.”

She laid her head on his chest. “Oh, Hank, I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you anymore, but I don’t think I could take seeing you hurt again, either. If it means keeping you out of harm’s way, then … then we just have to be more careful. We can’t be seen in public. We have to just see each other at our homes. The way we started out. We got too careless and too cocky, going out together where we could be spotted.” She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I believe these crazy laws keeping apart people who love each other are going to change soon. If we can just hold out. That case is going to the California courts this fall.”

“They won’t win. The racism in this country runs too deep.”

“Hank, I’ll say it again. This is 1948. It’s time that we get rid of racism once and for all!”

Hank started to laugh in a soft, hoarse whisper, which caused him to cough.

“Take it easy, Hank. Here, have some water.” She handed him a glass that was on the nightstand.

“Baby,” he managed to say after taking a sip, “I told you before and I’ll tell you again. You’re naive. Racism’s not going away that easily. I think we’re going to have racism in this country for a long, long time. Probably forever.”

She held him by the upper arms, leaned in close to his face, and kissed him a few times around the sore spots. “So, what are you saying? Do you think we should stop seeing each other?” she asked softly.

“Yes, I do. For your protection.”

“I don’t care what the damned studio does to me. Fame is fleeting. If we do it, it’s for your protection. I’m not going to let them hurt you again. Oh, but Hank, it will be horrible without you.”

“I think we should try, baby.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Her eyes welled. “This is all my fault.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Ray and Loretta probably blame me for what happened.”

“They don’t. Ray and Loretta like you a lot, and they respect how I feel about you. Get it out of your head that it’s anybody’s fault.”

She stood and paced the floor. “Oh, how I hate that creep Eldon Hirsch! All he wants is to get into my pants. That’s why he’s doing this. He’s jealous.”

“It’s in your contract, Blair. The morals clause.”

“I know, I know. But lots of stars get away with stuff they’re not supposed to do. This is all about his precious ego. I hate him. I hate him and his stupid office. I hope he loses that coin collection he loves so much. That would hit him where it hurts.”