Chapter One - Josh Smythe

Woe! Woe, oh great city, O Babylon city of power! In one hour, your doom has come. 

                                                                                      Revelation 18:10

Just off Hollywood Boulevard-1966. The outer office was small and cramped. A quiet tension hung over the actors who were silently memorizing the script. Most of those auditioning found a place to sit on the floor or stood out in the hall. The dialogue was for a young man and woman extolling the virtues of Botts Sugar Waffles in a sixty-second TV spot.

A low murmur of the words, “Botts is the best way to start your day” hummed among the actors as they committed the script to memory. In the corner, a young man of twenty, screwed up his eyebrows in intense concentration as he looked up from the script and repeated…”Botts Sugar Waffles is a family favorite.”

As soon as Josh Smythe entered the room to sign in, all eyes looked up from the scripts. Most of the females kept their eyes on him as he laid his picture on the sign-in desk and wrote his name next to the number “44”.

“Number sixteen?” called the casting director from the next room where they were reading the actors.

“That’s me!” said an over-anxious young woman who came tripping through the room. She fell into Josh’s arms just before she got to the door. She took a half-second to gaze into his eyes before breaking away. “Sorry!” she said as she ducked past the casting director and into the audition room. The casting director gave a fast once over of the actors waiting in the room, then he closed the door behind him.

Josh recognized the lady manning the sign-in desk. She was an actress as well. Her eyes met his and held. “Long time, no see, Josh.”

 He couldn’t remember her name. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he said. 

Another young actress, who had come in right behind Josh, waved her hand at the lady. “Can I sign in please? I’m on a lunch break.” 

The woman ignored her as she kept her eyes locked on Josh. She spoke in a cool, brisk voice. “Picture and resume. You’re number forty four, Josh.” Before she could say anything else to him, Josh turned to the table that had copies of the scripts scattered over it. He picked one up and walked back into the hallway where several actresses’ attention lingered on him.

 Another actor in the hallway waved at him. “Hey Josh, how did you do on that Chevrolet audition?” 

Josh gave a shrug. “You know how it is Carl. You win some and sometimes they choose the wrong actor.” Carl and several of the other actors laughed appreciatively. 

Carl held up his fist and smiled. “Right on, man.”

Josh observed that most of the actors and actresses were wearing lots of turquoise and Indian garb. It was the chosen style of the growing hippie movement in southern California. Being from New Mexico, and full-blooded Mescalaro, Josh grew up wearing similar clothes. These days he preferred the simple outfit of blue work shirt and jeans. He owned a pair of moccasins, but he liked the dusty old cowboy boots he’d spent five years training. Growing up, he was Tony White Feather to the locals. At eighteen, the young actor picked the stage name of Josh Smythe with the English spelling of Smythe. No one called him Tony White Feather anymore. Everyone in California knew him as Josh.

The dialogue for the sugar waffles was mostly lines like, “Boy, that’s good.” And “I love waking up to Bott’s Sugar Waffles.” There were three spots, three scripts. After reading through each of them several times, he had the lines down cold.

He caught the eye of a blond actress who had been watching him ever since he came in. She was a definite looker. What kind of nose did they call it? Pert? She had a pert nose. He gave her one of his blinding glamour smiles and watched her melt. He could feel the power of his good looks sweeping over the girl, making her weak-kneed. This was too easy. As he passed her in the crowded hallway, he gave her a wink and kept walking. Josh Smythe could have any woman he wanted, so he was choosy as to whom he wanted to seduce.

The head shot in his hand was an eight-by-ten black and white. In the picture, his eyes were dark and solemn, while his lips gave the hint of a smile. His features were sharp, almost chiseled. The cheekbones were high and his nose was slim and straight. His long, black hair was shiny and hung down to his shoulders. Josh’s dark complexion gave him a Mediterranean look. He could be Italian, Spanish, Middle Eastern, Filipino and of course, American Indian. He rarely thought about the God that blessed him with his handsome, multi-faceted features, but Josh knew he had a face that stopped women in their tracks and producers take notice.

Fighting the boredom of waiting, he flipped the head shot over to his resume on the back. At twenty-two, Josh Smythe had some impressive credits. Those included two national television commercials, numerous modeling jobs, and plenty of theatre. Most of his theatre experience was at the Santa Fe Repertory, but after eight months in Los Angeles, he had gotten several roles with a professional theatre on Wilshire Boulevard. He had just finished a six-week run as John Proctor in “The Crucible”. Although he was young for the role, he projected the maturity that the character required.

Josh had also read for a TV pilot and several feature films. He made most of the callbacks, but had not been cast. His agent, Becky, assured him that he was on the verge of stardom. He believed her. It took most actors years of auditions before they got “The Big Break”. Josh was willing to wait months, not years. And in the short time he’d been in Hollywood, he had accumulated a couple of years’ worth of credits.

A new face coming down the hall interrupted his career thoughts. Like Josh, this young lady drew long stares from her female competitors and the men. Heads turned at the petite figure as she passed. Her skin was pale and freckled. Her five foot, four-inch frame reached up to Josh’s shoulders as she walked by him. Her short, chestnut brown hair and green eyes were an unbeatable combination. She had a carriage of confidence as she strode down the hall. He suspected she was pretty well built too, but unlike the other actresses, she was dressed conservatively in a simple brown dress and blue blouse. She’s dressed like a nun, he thought as she reached the sign-in desk.

Josh cocked his head as he tried to read the name on her headshot. She held the photo upside down as she signed in. Cory Stilling. The name sounded familiar, but he was sure if he’d ever seen her face, he would never have forgotten it.

Cory Stilling walked back into the hallway to wait for her number to be called. She found a spot next to Carl, across from Josh. Her eyes scanned the script.

 Carl nudged her. “Hey woman.” 

She looked at Carl. “Oh, hi, Carl. How’s my fellow cattle call buddy?”

“I keep visiting the old show biz corral.” Cory gave a low, throaty laugh. Her green eyes glittered like emeralds. Josh felt himself drowning in them.

“How about that earthquake we had this morning?” Carl asked her.

Cory scrunched her face up at him. “Earthquake? That was a tremor. You must be new to California.”

Carl laughed. “Been here three years and I haven’t gotten use to those little land shakers.”

Josh was still trying to think of a good line to use on this enchanting young woman. He eyed her picture once more. Yep, it said her name was Cory Stilling. “Excuse me, are you Cory Stilling?” he asked.

 Cory stopped laughing and gave Josh a quizzical look. “So far, yes. Do I know you, stranger?”  Josh crossed the hallway and squeezed in between Cory and a chagrined Carl.

“I’m Josh Smythe. You seemed familiar. I thought that maybe we’d worked together. Weren’t you in a Concord Bank spot about a month ago? I played the main customer.” Cory looked deep into Josh’s eyes. He had not expected such directness and felt an unfamiliar emotion. Embarrassment. It was like she knew he had handed her a line and that she also knew he was the type to hand girl’s smooth lines. In fact, her face was now turning into a frown.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I think I would have remembered.”  

 Carl tapped Josh on the shoulder. “Cory and I keep getting thrown together at these auditions.”  The shorter actor was leaning over Josh’s shoulder, trying to reclaim his spot next to Cory. “By the way, did you get that Westinghouse spot, Cory?”

 She shook her head at Carl. “They thought I was too young to be the mother of a three-year old.”

Josh agreed with that. She was about his age, but she was still castable as a teen. Her eyes seemed ageless. He was so lost in them, he didn’t realize she was speaking to him.

“I’m sorry Cory, what was that?”

“I was wondering if you had the lines memorized yet,” she said.

“Oh, sure.”

“Maybe we could go over the script together.”

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.” Suddenly he was sounding like a kid on his first date. Josh was having an attack of  “Tongue Tie” as he followed Cory down the hall. She opened a door.

“We can work in here.”

 Carl called to them in a disappointed voice. “I’ll let you guys know if they call for you.”

It was a break room with a cola machine and some tables. There was another pair of actors going over the waffle dialogue as Cory led him over to a quiet corner.

“This is a good spot.” They sat and looked over the script.

“You want to read Customer Number One?” Josh asked. Cory quickly scanned the script and laid it face down.

“Yes, I’ll be Number One.”

“You memorized it in one reading?” he asked.

“I’m a quick study.”

“Me too.”

“Then let’s do it,” she smiled.

They went over the dialogue several times. Josh thought she had a light, natural delivery. Her voice had the right lilt to it. He reached over to look at her picture and resume.

“May I?” 

Cory shrugged. “I’m not shy.” Her picture was vibrant. Unlike the Mona Lisa smile Josh had on his, Cory’s smile was wide and open. Her face crackled with friendliness, intelligence and depth. He could see that the camera loved her face. He flipped the picture over and scanned her resume. Three years with the Guthrie Theatre in Minnesota. A national toothpaste spot, a few minor-speaking roles in several major films. He looked up from the resume.

“You worked with Mickey Yulin?” Cory nodded. “He’s one of my favorite directors.” he mused.  He looked at the credit of the Mickey Yulin film. She had played the part of Louise in “The House on Harrow Row”. “Which part was Louise?”

 Cory gave that infectious, throaty laugh. “If you blinked, you missed me. I was Julie Christie’s co-worker. My line to her was, “Don’t let that bloke fool you Lacy, he’s full of salt and vinegar.” She spoke the line with a perfect cockney accent, then laughed again. Her face was a mixture of pride and embarrassment. Josh had seen the film about two years before. He thought back to the scene and remembered the part of Louise as a gum chewing, heavily made up secretary with blond hair.

“That was you?”

“Yeah. If you remember, I had this yellowish blond fright wig and wore ten pounds of orange pancake on my face.” 

Josh nodded. “Man, they sure uglied you up for that part. But you were good. You had a few more lines like that.”

“A few. It was fun. I got a free trip to London and had dinner with Sean Connery, Julie Christie and Mickey Yulin. For a while I was a big movie star.” Her demeanor told him she wasn’t bragging. She actually seemed shy about it. 

Josh decided he had to seduce her. “How about dinner after the audition?” 

A shadow crossed her face. “I don’t even know you.”

 He pushed his resume across the table to her. “It’s all there in black and white.” Her eyes didn’t leave his. The direct stare wasn’t malevolent, but it was disconcerting.

“You’re sweet Josh, but I don’t think so.” This was an unexpected pail of cold water in the face. Josh had never been rejected with such conviction. He gave her his best seductive look and gave her his “husky, smoky” voice.

“Why don’t we just go to my apartment then?” There. He’d laid it out on the table. Her eyes narrowed.

“I don’t think so Josh. I don’t go into that type of stuff.” He was flummoxed.

“So what kind of scenes are you into, pretty lady?”

 She shook her head. Her smile had faded. “Not into those scenes.” Cory took her picture and resume and stood up.

“So help me out here,” said Josh. “What turns you on?”

 She walked to the door and turned to him. “I guess the only thing that really excites me is God.”  She smiled, then disappeared down the hallway.