sequel-3

THE SEQUEL

Chapter 3--Arthur, Ben, and Charlie

      The filming of Romeo and Juliet was over for the rest of the cast as well, and, while critical attention to it prior to its opening was positive, they had to be thinking about their futures too. Most of those who'd come from New York, like Ralph Reed, had only come when needed and continued to live and work in New York. Even Arthur Cane had been back and forth, but spent a lot of time in California to keep Ben Winston company--sharing his apartment when he was there--as Ben was beginning to think of California as home.
     Ben was concerned about what was going to happen with the Players Company. He knew he'd been one of its most prominent actors in good part because of Jordan. He may have missed Jordan more than anyone else did--was lonely in New York without him. Arthur might be there with him, but Arthur wasn't Jordan. Arthur had his own problems, and in the emotional vacuum after filming was over they were frequently arguing. While Christine and the others were in Japan, they'd taken one trip to New York--to find the Players Company in limbo. Back in California, they moved to the lake, and began partying most evenings. Ben, in particular, was drinking to excess, then became disputatious-- with everyone.
     Christine thought she knew both pretty well, having observed the Players Company from the sidelines, and Ben and Arthur's relationships to Betty and Jordan, and each other, for years, then working with both in Romeo and Juliet in New York, and in the film they'd just finished. She assumed that they'd come to California with her, and would go back to New York with her, and help to determine the future of the Players Company. She wasn't particularly drawn to either, but they were actors she knew, and good actors, with whom she expected to be working regularly.
     Charlie Morgan, on the other hand, was a new ingredient, on his home turf--having been born and lived his whole life

in Southern California. He'd seldom been more than 50 miles from Glendale, maybe to Catalina, Tijuana, or Reno, but most often just down to the beach at Santa Monica or Laguna when he had a day free. He was entering a whole new world, peopled by these strangers from New York, with a new ambition of his own, to increase his opportunities as an actor by showing that he could work well with them.
     While Jack and Henry and their families were in Japan, they had invited all three of these young men--Arthur, Ben, and Charlie--to feel free to continue to spend time at the lake, a perfect place to vacation. But in this period Charlie began to feel like he'd been caught in the middle.
     Jack had become very fond of Charlie as he saw how delighted he was to be playing Mercutio, while Ben, totally professional, was seldom exciting to work with, and Arthur was too easily distracted--and not to trust. Beyond this, Charlie said he'd like to be a director himself, was always volunteering to help, so became a frequent assistant to Jack by halfway through the filming. Jack suggested paying him for that--Charlie did have a lot of film experience--but Charlie just answered, "I should be paying you for the education. I appreciate your letting me watch you."
     Christine had suggested they cast Charlie as Ferdinand in The Tempest rather than Ben, but Jack's first reaction was, "Let's not be too hasty. Ben's a prominent member of the Players Company, while Charlie and I will be newcomers in New York, needing all the support we can get." As they left for Japan, Jack still assumed Ben would be playing Ferdinand--or perhaps Caliban. They'd have to see about Charlie.
     Charlie knew nothing of this. At first, he'd thought he had a pretty good relationship with Ben. Though almost ten years older than Charlie and Arthur, Ben was friendly enough. As the experienced New York actor, he'd been condescending to the newcomer, whom he saw as someone with only a few roles on television sitcoms to brag about, but

Charlie saw that Ben treated everyone that way, and seemed justified, since he was, after all, the star of the film. He even gave Charlie advice on how to deliver his big "Queen Mab" speech, though Charlie felt he had advice enough--with Jack's suggestions, and Christine's on Shakespearean pronunciation, of course--for he did want them to decide to take him to New York.   But, while he hoped to do some things in New York as a result of these new connections, he still thought of California as his home base, while Arthur was just the opposite, thought of California as perhaps offering interesting opportunities, but New York as home.
     Ben, however, saw himself as facing a major change, for, though a New Yorker, he was thinking of staying in California. He'd heard Jack encouraging Charlie to ask Randall about work in the Westerns he was still producing, and thought that now, with things so uncertain in New York, and, with the publicity he was receiving as Romeo and Juliet was soon to be opening, he should have the credentials to get cast in these Western movies too. He asked Randall about it.
     Randall said, "Well, if you can you ride a horse and shoot, Ben, and pretend to fist fight with other cowboys, I'll refer you to a director who can probably use you--though you might do better on stage with your own company--in your own home town, I would think."
      "I was thinking of trying to do both," Ben said.
     Randall nodded, "Of course--why not?"
     But having watched the two as actors, and just imagining each on a horse wearing a cowboy hat, he liked the idea of Charlie as a cowboy actor better. And Ben never had ridden a horse, or shot a gun. But, serious about becoming a John Wayne or Jimmy Stewart--Ben began to take lessons at a riding stable, three times a week. And he'd seen a gun in a foot locker of Jack's belongings, in the storage room at the cabin, when Jack was getting out an English translation of Mishima's Forbidden Colors to loan to

him. When Ben got the gun out, soon after he and Arthur settled at the cabin, there were no cartridges with it, so he bought a box at Brown's General Store, and began to practice there at the lake. Mr. Brown became concerned when he found out who he heard firing a gun, and knew Ben was also drinking heavily.
     Ben had no car of his own. He didn't need one in New York, and was in the habit of riding with others, going most places with Arthur. But Christine told him he could use the Ferrari while they were gone, to make it easier to get back and forth to the lake. Thomas didn't like this, for he kept that car in perfect order and saw Ben as shiftless, a drinker, who'd abuse the car, might not even check the oil or tire pressure. But, more than needing the transportation, Ben relished the mystique of "Jordan's car," resenting the fact that this "high school girl" had inherited it.
     For Charlie, Ben and Arthur were no longer strangers, of course. Mercutio and Tybalt were naturally thrown together in rehearsal, pitted against each other--then both killed half way through the play. They'd soon become pretty good friends, with Charlie showing Arthur around Los Angeles, and Arthur telling Charlie about New York--where he himself often stayed with his parents when at home, if he wasn't being supported by a current girl friend, as he liked to say. He was excited about the experimental things the Players Company had been doing with Betty, and Christine said she wanted to continue in that spirit. And, however Christine's grand plans worked out, he thought New York and that company still offered him the best career opportunities, or at least the most fun as an actor, and he had no desire to stay in California.
     Charlie was brought even closer to Arthur when he made an important new friend in Jack's wife, Laura, who was sufficiently impressed by his work as Mercutio to talk to him about becoming his agent, "Particularly if you want to look

for work on both coasts, in New York theatre as well as the movies here in California. I think I can help both places. You've already worked with some of the Players Company actors, and might even help us extend our range here with your connections."
       "But I've never even been to New York, never been out of California, and have had no professional stage experience."
       "Then you should go to New York--the sooner the better!" she said. "I'll tell you what! As my first act as your agent, I'll take you there for a week . . . even provide board and room. Henry says I need to fly back to take care of business--his and mine--and I've already asked Arthur to go along to help. Arthur knows a lot of people in New York theatre . . . and I already am his agent." She smiled at Charlie. "He'd be a good one to introduce you to the city. Neither of you are needed here this next week, are you?"
     They weren't, so they went. It was an intense week for Charlie, as Arthur did help him get acquainted with others in the Players Company--slyly pointing out which actresses he'd been sleeping with--and showed him around the theatre district. The Players were not doing much at the time, no major production in rehearsal, but, encouraged by Henry, keeping the company alive with some of those off-the-wall things Betty had most enjoyed doing--semi-improvisational staged readings and one-acts the people who happened to be there could still do miscellaneously--put up a billboard, sell a few tickets, and keep the theatre open.
     Charlie was encouraged to participate as Jean in a staged reading of Strindberg's Miss Julie, always one of Betty's favorites. This was the idea of one of the young women in the company, Marcella Martin, who'd played Kristin to Betty's Miss Julie the last time they'd done the play, so knew it well, but wanted to try Miss Julie herself. Betty had still been inspiring in the part, in spite of being almost 40. Charlie had never seen Betty live on stage, but, though he thought Marcella read the part well, he found himself imagining Christine in the role.

He got along fine with Marcella, however, and with all those he performed with, his first time on a New York stage, working in the theatre in which they'd be doing The Tempest.
He and Arthur went to plays most nights, usually with discount tickets Laura got for them, but, during the day, he was a typical tourist. Arthur might go with him, particularly to restaurants he knew well, but he didn't feel he needed to visit the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State Building again, so Charlie went many places by himself, a few with Marcella, learning to use the subway, and walking to two or three places he wanted to see nearest the chosen stop. He took a walk in Central Park with Laura the first day, after she'd taken a bus tour of the city with him, and he sometimes returned to the park later, just to walk, before catching a bus or subway back to the apartment Laura normally shared with Christine, before dinner and a play. And it pleased him to think he was sleeping in Christine's bed, as he imagined her as Miss Julie. He was reminded of that when, back in California, he'd see her and Ben working on the bedroom scene in the film.
One day when Laura had the whole morning free, she took Charlie up north of the park to the Cloisters, which she said she and Christine were fond of visiting. Then Marcella went with him to one of the museums close to the park. He then began looking in the paper for art exhibits he could go see, then talk to Laura or Marcella about. Laura was well informed about the arts in the city, but was busy with her own work, which she said she had been neglecting out in California. By the end of the ten days they finally spent there, Charlie came back to California in love with New York--and with his new agent. But he thought of going some of those places with Christine later, or being on the stage of her Players Company theatre with her--if not as her Ferdinand, perhaps as her Jean. He had just recently read Shakespeare's The Tempest for the first time, thinking of what he might do.

     After Laura and he came back to California (Arthur stayed for another week to do a one-act play he'd been in before, but this time with Marcella, so it required a little rehearsing), Charlie began spending more time at the lake. He would usually play chess or spend hours out in the boat just talking with Henry, or help Shoko with Hajime, though, a typical Japanese mother, she seldom let the baby out of her sight. Charlie could swim pretty well, and sometimes tried to get Christine to teach him how to water ski better. But, as it became clear to Ben that Charlie was becoming more interested in Christine, and he read the hints that Charlie might be Christine's favorite to play Ferdinand, their relationship became more strained. It wasn't so much that Ferdinand was such a rare opportunity, after playing Romeo, but what this indicated about the attitudes of those who'd be making the major decisions for the Players Company once they were back in New York.
     Charlie had heard that Ben had his prominence in the Players Company in part because of his relationship to Jordan, which, some said, involved a homosexual attraction as well as acting ability--though the acting ability was real enough. Ben was a good looking fellow, easy to see as Romeo--but not in the least romantically inclined toward Christine off stage, where they had a rather stormy relationship--together at the lake, for example--arguing about everything.
     Charlie could see that Ben was obviously more attracted to Arthur, in fact, and Arthur to him, though Arthur was not above flirting with Christine--and dating her when he could--"an equal opportunity seducer," as he liked to say. By the time the filming was over, Charlie wasn't sure what their own relationship was. He'd have been pleased to go to Japan with the others--but the idea had never occurred to them--and, in what time he did spend at the lake while they were gone, he became increasingly uncomfortable with Ben's group.

     One evening shortly before the others got back from Japan Ben and Arthur had a barbecue party at the lake for all the male members of the cast still in town, which Charlie attended. Ben began to talk about being convinced that, first, Christine's judgment would carry the day, and that, second, without saying so, she wanted him out of the Players Company. Ben said, "I plan to confront her about her plans for The Tempest, and a few other things, as soon as she gets back from Japan--and see myself as a representative of the Players Company."
     Charlie thought that Christine had been trying very hard to convince Ben that she'd be depending upon him in New York--one reason she'd offered him the use of the Ferrari while they were gone, which he was glorying in, driving it as much as he could. He was also beginning to think of himself as that Western gunman in the movies, liked to wear Jack's gun and had begun target practice with it. Charlie knew Jack wouldn't have approved, but Ben wasn't too concerned about that, and liked to flaunt the weapon before the others at these drunken parties. It became a kind of prop there in the woods, where he liked to demonstrate that he was a faster draw and better shot than anyone else. Charlie didn't compete, but Arthur sometimes did, to humor Ben.
     It was true that Christine had seemed to be growing up in many ways while they were making the film. Prior to that, she'd been protected by three chaperons, you might say, in New York. Laura, her de facto mother, watching her dating, and how late she was staying out all the way through high school, would ground her if she didn't follow house rules. Then Betty was watching her from the time they were rehearsing Romeo and Juliet at the theatre, keeping her away from people like Arthur, or anyone known to be aggressive with women. But the strongest protection of all had been Jordan--who wouldn't put up with any nonsense when a play was in progress--but perhaps more because Christine felt that

she was in love with him. As she had told Jack, she had expected to be seduced by him, so wasn't interested in an affair with Ben, or Arthur, or anyone else around the theatre or at high school--not even going to a movie or on a school date--for she felt that would be to betray Jordan.
     She was surprised when Jordan didn't seize an opportune moment, perhaps alone walking on a solitary beach, reciting lines of Shakespeare, or as they spent a week together driving across country from New York to California in the Ferrari, stopping at motels overnight, and frequently out on a lonely road without another car in sight. Movies she had seen provoked her to fantasize about things he might do--so he had disappointed her, as she thought he had her mother.
     Someone at the theatre had laughed and said, "Don't you know that Jordan is gay?" She could see that he was a lot more interested in the young men in the company than in the women, but wasn't really sure how to read that. That was true of athletes, too, like Tom Hazen, who'd been married three times, wasn't it? And, in confronting Betty over who'd be working with Christine that summer, Jordan did, in fact, say he'd marry her if necessary--then carry her off to be his Miranda. She'd have married him in a minute. So when she'd told Jack, after the death of Betty and Jordan, and after graduating from high school, that she was still a virgin at 18, it was true.
     As Arthur told the story that evening at the lake, however, by the time she went to Japan, a year later, that was all in the past. Ben had just told the half dozen fellows drinking beer as they watched the sunset reflect on the lake, "As we were working in all those romantic scenes, I knew I could've had her, but I wasn't interested. I personally think she might actually have shot Jordan--when he denied her. She says she'd have been willing to die with him--but I not only would have . . . I wish I had, as Morita died with Mishima."

     Then, sizing up his audience before he spoke, Arthur said, "Watching you rehearse those scenes, I began to see the passion Christine was capable of, so, not to let it go to waste, I decided to pursue it. I first caught her alone here in the cabin, after we'd both been in swimming, were still in our wet suits, and no one else was here. I took her precious virginity right in there on the floor in what she said was the same room Betty and Jordan had died in. Their ghosts did not protect her . . . or me. Henry and Shoko were in town shopping, and Jack and Laura were at the studio, I think--so the cabin was all ours. How sweet it was!"
     Someone laughed. "Right here? How long ago?"
      "This spring--late May. She was 19 by then, she said, so old enough, and sure that she was old enough to make her own decisions about everything. When it came to sexual activity she certainly was. I told her I loved her, of course, which wasn't hard for the reigning Juliet to believe." He paused to measure reactions before going on. "Then, immediately after that first rather impromptu experience, I took her out in the boat--across the lake there under the trees." He pointed. "Taking off our swimming suits and, moving slowly, I made sure she enjoyed it as much as I did that second time--a thing I pride myself on, as any of these girls can tell you."
      "We should survey these girls," Ben said, sarcastically.
     Arthur smiled. "After that, she took charge of planning our meetings, careful to make sure we'd be alone long enough for her to reach her climax, too, before she was willing to submit again. She's a woman who likes to have her own way. So we've been engaged in this activity for about six months, most often here at the lake."
     Charlie didn't want to hear this, but, while others clamored for more details, he asked, "Then do you plan to marry her?"
      "Marry her! No, no! I wouldn't marry Christine. I'm not in that league. I've done the same with half a dozen other young women of the Players Company over the years, as Ben

can tell you. But she's Juliet right now, and might decide what roles I get in New York next year--what part I get in The Tempest, for sure . . . how about Ariel!--so I'm likely to be in love with her for a while yet."
      "That's pretty cynical," Charlie said.
     Arthur ignored that. "I can imagine how she must be suffering in Japan, without me there to take care of her most urgent needs."
     They all laughed at that--except Charlie--and Ben.
     Ben began to condemn Arthur for infidelity, but Arthur said, "An affair with Christine? It's just like those with other women in the past. It doesn't mean a thing. I've always been faithful to you, after my fashion, haven't I?" He looked at Ben, and smiled. "Just another woman--with a woman's wiles--it's not the same at all. In fact I've had two others-- recreationally--while she's been in Japan, ." He noticed Charlie frowning and said, "I'd be glad to introduce you to either of them--pass them on to you." Then to Ben, "They don't mean anything to me." Then to the others, "These two don't compare to Christine, of course. She's special."
     Ben growled, "Not as special as she likes to think."
     Arthur said, "Well, all right. I'll make the same offer to Charlie with her--she's yours if you wants her."
     This really bothered Charlie, who'd never admitted to anyone how he felt about Christine--who'd never so much as gone to a movie alone with him--but thought Arthur ought to have some idea. And, even knowing Arthur's impulse to exaggerate--he told the same kind of stories about the women in New York--Charlie half believed what he was telling them about his sexual adventures with Christine, as he regaled them with details, in the boat, in the Ferrari--even in her own bed back in New York, where Charlie had slept himself. Charlie was tempted to question him about the details of that bedroom, but, with the others there, thought it better not to--as they kept encouraging Arthur to tell them more.

     Arthur said he'd talked to Christine on the phone, from Japan, telling her they'd sure have a lot of catching up to do.
      "She's as anxious as I am," he said, imitating her voice remarkably well, "'I'm having so much fun here in Japan, Arthur, visiting temples and seeing Japanese plays, but I sure wish you were here with me. I hope you're not chasing other women while I'm away . . . are you being true to me?'
      "See, she's as worried about my fidelity as you are," he said to Ben. "'How can you distrust me, Christine?' I said. 'I'll be out in the boat, and just naturally reach for you, then sadly remember you're far, far away. Once you're back, you'll see. I can hardly wait,'" Arthur said, winking at Charlie, who was trying to think of how to get out of there.
      "Well, you'll have to wait for a night or two," Ben said. "I plan to confront her the first night she's back--and not for sex in the boat. We have important things to settle."
      "You don't know what you're missing, Ben. That's when it's best, with the boat rocking under you." Arthur laughed.
     Ben began cursing both of them, calling her, "a pompous whore, so sure of herself in her glorious power . . . in charge of everything," and accusing Arthur of being "unfaithful . . . to Jordan, to me, to the Players. You've sold out!" he said. "Here's what I say to both of you!"
     He was wearing the gun, covered by a loose buckskin jacket he'd taken to wearing, which he pushed back to demonstrate his fast draw, firing at a target on one of the trees. He missed the tree.
     This was the signal for Charlie to head for home. He asked others, also preparing to leave, "Does anyone need a ride?" But they all had their own transportation.
     As he backed out he looked at Christine's Ferrari parked there with the other cars, and, driving home, all he could think about was Christine and her fellow New Yorkers--and what they'd had to say about her.