Free Children of Light by Robert Stone Page B

back. They pay a very high price for their work.”
    “And that’s Lu Anne, isn’t it, Lionel?” young Drogue asked.
    “Well,” Lionel said, “yes. I mean, I don’t know that much about acting—how it works from inside. It’s a mystery to me. Like all mysteries, I find it a bit frightening.”
    “You’re a philosopher, Lionel. A student of the mind. And you think the price of this performance might be a mite high for your wife in her sensitive condition. The scenes we’re shooting from now on are some of the most intense in the script. It’s a shame you can’t stay for them.”
    “I’m sorry,” Lionel said. “I thought I was performing yeoman’s service putting in so much time down here. I was led to understand location shooting would be over by now.”
    “That was last year.”
    “Yes. Well, last year is when I arranged for the journey. Originally we thought we’d go together. My parents have planned around it. The kids’ schoolwork has been arranged for. Why are you treating me like a deserter?”
    “Come on, Lionel,” young Drogue said. “I’m not doing that. Do you know who Gordon Walker is?”
    “He’s the scriptwriter.”
    “Did you know he was coming down?”
    “I heard something about it,” Lionel said. No one had breathed a word to him.
    “Old pal of Lu Anne’s, right? Sort of a second Dickens?”
    “I know who he is,” Lionel said. “I know he went out with Lu Anne. What are you suggesting?”
    Young Drogue displayed opened palms. “Hey, Lionel, I never suggest. If I want to say something I just up and say it.”
    “It sounded to me,” Lionel said, “as though you were implying something that’s none of your business.”
    “Not at all, Lionel. Nothing of the kind. You have to leave, so you’ll leave.” He sighed. “I just thought everybody should understand everybody else’s feelings. See, we’re Californians. Compulsive communicators. We’re overconfiding and we’re nosy. Don’t mind us.”
    “I wouldn’t worry about Gordon Walker, Lionel,” Patty Drogue said soothingly. “I mean, there’s much less sex on movie locations than a lot of people think.”
    Lionel turned to her blankly. “I beg your pardon?”
    “Ah, let him come,” young Drogue said. “Maybe tension will enrich her performance? Think so, Lionel? I think it’s possible. Anyway,” he told Lionel good-humoredly, “I can swallow that asshole with a glass of water.”
    “She’ll be all right,” Lionel said. “We’ve agreed it’s time for her to handle it alone.”
    “No second Vancouver?” Drogue asked delicately.
    “She’ll be all right,” Lionel said.
    “And you’ve got Kurlander covering in case of emergency, right? He’s agreed to come down if necessary?”
    “That was privately arranged.”
    “Should we put him on the payroll?” Drogue asked. “We might do that.”
    “I’ve taken care of it. I don’t think you’ll need him.”
    “I’m really glad we had this talk,” Drogue said. “So we could find out where we stood. By the way, have you read the script?”
    “Of course,” Lionel Morgen said. But he had not. He had glanced at the Chopin book and leafed through a few of the scenes his wife was to appear in. That was all. He was instantly appalled at his own defensive lie.
    “We thought you’d stay,” Patty Drogue intoned sweetly. “We thought you’d decide Lee needed you and stay.”
    “I offered to stay,” Lionel said stolidly. “In spite of the difficulties. She agreed that I should go.”
    “Well,” young Drogue said cheerfully, “you’re the doctor.”
    There came the clatter and rustle of arriving guests ascending from the terraces below.
    “Great eyes,” old Drogue said. Lionel’s own eyes had grown accustomed to the shadows and he saw that in the alcove where old Drogue was, a hammock had been strung between two date palms and the old man sat astride it. He looked, Lionel thought, like an old parrot on a stick swing. “But her pictures