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Odin odin@aflx.com, click here
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Max finds dealing with Samantha the actress much harder than dealing with Sam, his wife.
Chapter 6
Sunsets were a weakness of Max’s. He could be lulled into anyone’s whim as long as he could be in the presence of a beautiful sunset. “Sunsets don’t get any better than that, eh?” he proclaimed as he pulled the car to a stop at the dock of Bahia Tortugas.
“It’s just to break the boredom, Max. That’s all. Why do you choose to make it a big deal?” she said flirtatiously.
“I’m hearing the other Sam now, so let’s drop it, okay?” he said with a calm and soft tone. He turned back to the sunset. “Don’t you agree?”
Sounding disappointed, she replied, “Are we talking about the sunset now?” He nodded.
She slid across the seat and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I was really having a good time with her, you know.”
“I know. I thought we’d miss this. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“She doesn’t get bored at all,” she said pouting. “And I’ve seen better.”
“What?” he said.
“Better.”
“Oh, come on. Where?”
She slipped her hand between the buttons of his shirt and curled her finger around the silky strands of chest-hair.
“If you say it’s the best, okay.”
“Don’t stroke me. Where?”
“In my head, silly. You know nothing can compare…”
“‘To the imagination of a loony.’ Those are your words, not mine.”
She smiled and grabbed a handful of hair, threatening to pull hard. “Just because you choose to use that bloated psycho-babble, don’t you dare make fun of my vocabulary, you hear?”
He flexed his jaw through a smile as she tightened her grip on his manhood. “’Loony’ is demeaning,” he said.
“So is ‘hairless’ as in chest.”
“Okay. Okay. Better sunsets in your head. Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay… just OKAY.”
“Okay I can be loony?”
“Yes. Yes.”
She suddenly pulled her hand away and jumped out of the car and ran toward the end of the pier.
He took a moment to console his pride, then looked up. ‘Hey!” He leapt from the car and ran after her. “Goddamn it, Sam. Sam?”
She wasn’t hearing him. She was laughing out loud and running the last fifty yards in a sprint.
“Ah, shit, Sam. Not this again.” He was also running fast now as well, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it over his head.
Sam reached the end and without missing a step, leapt into the waves below, fully clothed.
Max reached the end, and he too disappeared off the edge in a less than pretty dive.
***
“Mr. and Mrs. Max Quinlan,” Max said to the Deskman as he continued shaking his head to the side and banging it with a guest towel. “Thank you for the towel. Can’t seem to get the water out.”
The desk clerk, not wanting to be anything but the gentleman expected at a Hyatt Regency, merely smiled, glanced at the accumulating puddle beneath Max’s feet, turned the registration pad around for sign-in and said, “It would seem.” He then took a second look at the inordinate scene outside the entrance.
The lady was standing at the trunk of the Bentley with the bellman, directing him on the handling of the suitcases while drying her hair with yet another towel.
“Would you care to valet park your automobile during your stay, Mr. Quinlan?”
“Yes. Thank you,” said Max as he signed in. “And, oh, could you have them tidy up the inside a bit. We got it a little wet, with the… you know.”
“Of course, Mr. Quinlan. If you’d like, we could tidy up your damp clothes as well.”
“Oh, that would be great. We did kinda get carried away. Beautiful sunset and all.”
“Of course, I understand. Sunsets have a way, don’t they?” The Deskman pulled the registration pad around and handed Max the keys. “Suite 23, Mr. Quinlan. If there is any other way we can be of service, just let us know.”
“You bet.” Max turned and walked out to the car, still trying to relieve his ears of the water.
The Deskman maintained a long and disbelieving stare as his hands carried out their habitual pulling of his shirt cuffs to just below the coat sleeve line.
Sam walked through the suite, checking out its every detail as Max directed the bellman where to put each suitcase. He tipped him with a wet five-dollar bill. “Sorry for the soggy bill. We had a little accident.”
“No problem. Thank you.” Max let him out and walked into the bedroom. Sam was sitting at the vanity mirror gazing at herself.
“Not a pretty sight. Not at all,” she said.
Max stepped up behind her. After a moment, he broke the silence. “Can we just be husband and wife now… just Sam and Max on their honeymoon?”
She didn’t look up. She didn’t lift her eyes from the mirror. Sam studied the soaked image before her. Her white suit clung to her body. A small strand of seaweed protruded from her tangled hair. Her eyes closed as she spoke of her realization; “I’m only an actress, Max. Only…an actress.”
Max crouched down beside her. He looked in the mirror at her face. “Open…c’mon, open your eyes.”
She hesitated, then raised her eyelids, taking but a short glance at herself, shifting her gaze to Max.
“What do you see?” asked Max.
She shifted her eyes and swallowed. She swallowed again, and answered to her reflection, “Someone who has made a mistake.”
Max grinned and took her hand. “You mean your propensity for water?
“I mean a real mistake.”
“How so?” questioned Max as he watched her face remain steadfastly focused on herself. He had seen her like this often on the stage. Such concentration was a gift few actors had. She had the ability to cast out all distractions when she was centered and she was centered, thought Max as he gripped her hand.
She sighed and stood up, taking one last glance at herself before turning to him. She started unbuttoning her blouse. “Do you remember our first rehearsal together?”
“Adding Machine? Yes.”
Max now rose and began taking off his wet clothes.
“Remember how you encouraged me to forget Samantha?”
“Yes.”
She continued undressing. “How you said I had to forget who I was on the street. To concentrate on just being what the playwright asked of the character. Do you remember?”
“Of course, Sam. That’s…”
“…A demand you make of all your actors. It’s a demand you made of me before, as well…when we had our ‘heart to heart,’ when I was just Samantha wanting to be…just Samantha. Remember?” She stood before him now stripped of any characterization clothes might have encouraged.
Max stopped undressing and stepped up to her, taking her in his arms. As he gently stroked her hair, he felt a sudden lifelessness overtake her body. Her arms hung at her sides. She dropped her head to his shoulder. “That’s exactly what I want you to be now… just Sam.”
“You don’t understand, Max. Sam is different from Samantha. Sam is a bore.”
Max carefully took her by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “I know you, darling. I know how much easier it is to be Samantha the actress. How much harder it is to be Sam… especially Sam Quinlan. You’ve only known the real Sam Turner a short part of your life, and now you’re...well, I can imagine how difficult that can be.”
“Can you, Max?” Can you really imagine how hard it might be for Sam to make Max happy?”
“Yes,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her once again, lifting her to his chest and placing her gently on the bed. “I can imagine. But I have no doubts.”
Sam stared up at the ceiling as she lifted her hand and guided his head to her stomach. He caressed her thighs as her eyes welled up. “Make love to Samantha, Max.”
Max paused a moment, then hesitantly and softly touched her body.
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Love ya!
Jane
You get right to the problem with actors. Do their spouses marry the person inside, or the persona, created for the roles played? Certainly would be tough on any marriage.
Ron