CHAPTER ELEVEN - Breaking Up

This is Chapter 11. If you would like to read the story from the beginning, please click on the pink tabs above.

“For you yourselves know well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.”

1^st Thes. 5:2

A coffee shop off Hollywood Boulevard, 1974. Their voices were low, but intense. The waitress had cleaned up the dishes and taken the generous two-dollar tip that Judd had left an hour ago.

“I think you’re wrong, I think you’re seriously wrong, Judd,” said Goldie. While her skin and features were soft, her almond eyes were quiet and determined.

 Judd shook his head slowly. “That’s just the way I feel.”

Goldie took a sip of coffee and looked out on to the street. The breakfast crowd was long gone and the early lunch people were coming in.

After spending the last few months seeing each other, they had met at their favorite spot so they could break up. Judd was a wonderful guy, Goldie thought. Smart, funny, a total gentleman and handsome to boot. But they were back to the old conversation and all the hashing out and rehashing wouldn’t change Goldie’s mind. Judd was just as stubborn. He put his palms on the table and leaned towards her. 

“Look Goldie, you’re a great girl.”

“Woman,” she corrected him.

 He gave her one of those bright smiles and her heart lurched. “Woman,” he said softly. “And I’d love to marry you.” This was his third proposal in as many months. “And I know you want to marry me,” he added. Goldie gave an imperceptible nod. He continued. “But this God thing is going to be between us our whole lives. I don’t mind you believing whatever you want.”

“Thank you,” she said curtly.

“I just can’t waste my time on something I don’t believe in.”

 She reached across the table and took his hand. “I’ve told you about Jesus. I don’t understand how you can’t believe. Look around you, Judd. God is everywhere.”

“Listen Goldie, I went to church when I was a kid. But in college, I kept my mind open. I met lots of intelligent people…professors, fellow students, scholars of science and philosophy. I can’t argue with the logic of science.”

Goldie had lost him. Judd’s biggest problem wasn’t his education. He just didn’t depend on God. That’s what he had told her. He depended on no one but himself.

“God didn’t give me this body,” he said. “I worked for it. I sculpted it. I lifted weights, I ran, I did all I could to be the best athlete possible. And it’s paid off into a great career. Now you gave me a Bible to read, but I could give you twenty or thirty books that contradict everything in the Old Testament alone.” Goldie stared down at the table. He grasped her hand. “Don’t worry Goldie, I’m not going to send a van of books over to your place. I know it wouldn’t do any good.”

“You’re right, Judd. I guess we’re going to have to agree to disagree.”

“So I guess that’s it.”

“I guess,” she said wistfully. He put another dollar on the table and started to get up. Goldie kept hold of his hand. “Judd, I don’t want to end it like this.”

“All things come to an end, Sweetheart.”

“Yes, but I still want to keep seeing you…as a friend.”

“You just want to save me, girl. I mean, woman.” 

She fought back the tears. She really loved this man. If she couldn’t marry him, she could at least save his soul. “You bet I will. I don’t give up easy.”

 He reached over and pecked her on the cheek. “You are so beautiful.”

“So are you,” she said.

“I’m leaving for the Bahamas next week. It’s a two-month shoot. Maybe we can get together when I get back…as friends.” Goldie nodded. She couldn’t trust herself to speak, with the lump growing in her throat. Judd gave one last caress to her cheek and walked out. Goldie sat there, staring into her coffee.  Then she got up and rushed over to the exit.

Judd was half a block away and she called out, “I’ll pray for you!” He turned and waved, then disappeared around a corner.

“The Angry Sea” was described by the writer as a “disaster movie with a heart”. The story was about people on an oilrig during a hurricane, but a lot of the film was in flashbacks about the characters’ lives.

The all-star cast was registered at “The Colony”, which took up most of the small island, Emerald Cay. Sidney Poitier played the chief engineer, and Judd was to handle all of his stunts. The cast included Josh Smythe, Michael Caine, Gene Hackman, Elizabeth Taylor, James Caan, Raquel Welch, Jane Fonda, and James Stewart as the oil company president. Josh Smythe played the rebel roustabout who questions Poitier’s authority.

Like all of his roles, Josh put a lot of research into his part. After a few weeks of study, he had a working knowledge of oil rigs and tanker transports. He spent a month with a field crew in Texas, working with the equipment and the men. He worked all shifts and performed every job that the union would allow.  Most of it was apprentice work, but Josh asked a hundred times the questions that any apprentice would ask. Then Josh spent two more weeks on a working rig off the coast of Galveston.

On a lazy Sunday of rest, Josh strolled around The Colony, looking for Judd. Josh found the stuntman down by the pool, watching the girls. “Hey Judd, how’s it going?”

 Judd patted the red cloth lounge chair next to him. “Have a seat, my man.” Judd nodded to a comely young woman on the diving board. “What do you think?”

“She looks like Diana.” 

Judd gave him a sharp look. There was only one Diana in Hollywood. “Diana Ross? You know Diana Ross?”

“She had a cameo in a film I did two years ago. She didn’t sing though.”

“I’ve been trying to meet her for years. She is fine.” They lolled by the pool, soaking in the sun and watching the girls.

“I hear you’re doing a jump tomorrow,” said Josh.

“Yep. A hundred and twenty feet, straight into the water.”

“You’re not going to jump off the top?”

 Judd laughed. “I don’t think a 120 foot drop off a Hollywood sized oil rig is advisable. Poitier’s character will jump off the top, but I’m only jumping from the lower level. They’ll make it look like I jumped the entire height.”

 Josh was quiet for a moment. “So you’re going to jump into a calm sea on a sunny day.”

“Sure.”

“But the script says it’s a stormy night.”

“I wanted to do it at night, but Solomon nixed it. Besides, the weather never cooperates. We’ll let the special effects guys churn up the sea and darken the sky.”

“Blow up a hurricane,” Josh said.

“Exactly. And a lot of that will be in the studio where we can control it.”

“So you take a lot of precautions, huh?”

“It’s not a particularly dangerous gag, but it’s potentially dangerous. We treat every stunt seriously…even a prat fall or a pie in the face.” Josh nodded thoughtfully. Judd couldn’t read his eyes behind the sunglasses that Josh was wearing.

“And you’ll have some divers down there when you hit the water?”

“Absolutely,” Judd replied.

“So it’s pretty safe.”

 Now Judd realized what the actor was getting at. “Hey, no man. Don’t even think about it.”

“What?” Josh asked innocently.

“You don’t jump. You are the star. Mr. Cox wouldn’t allow it. I wouldn’t allow it.”

“Come on Judd. You could get me on that rig. My character jumps in to save Poitier.”

 Judd took off his own sunglasses and stared at Josh. “You are out of your mind. And we’re going to shoot Toby’s jump on a different day.” Toby was Josh’s stuntman.

“Yeah, but if the cameras are rolling and I was to jump right after you…”

“You’d kill us both. Even if I could get you up there instead of Toby, it would be a career killer for you, Toby and me.”

“I’m a good swimmer.” 

Judd couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Good swimmer? When you hit the water, swimming is the last of your worries. Do you think your body could take the impact? You can’t swim unconscious…or with a broken back.”

“What if I paid you?”

“Not for a billion bucks. Not for a billion bucks and a date with Diana Ross. The best case scenario is, you survive the jump and I lose my job. Worst case, you die and I lose my job.” 

Josh shrugged and got up. “I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask. If you change your mind, call my room.”

“Don’t worry buddy, no one’s changing his mind.”

“Hang loose,” said Josh as he headed for the wet bar.

Judd made a mental note to alert Solomon and Cox. That crazy actor just might try it.

Fighting the Dallas heat, Cory found a shady spot and placed the studio chair under the ponderous oak. Her assistant brought her a wet rag and bottled water. 

“Cory are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in the trailer?” 

Cory waved her off. “It’s too far. I’d rather just cook here.”

“I’ll let you know when they’re set up.”

“Thanks Marcia.”

The assistant hurried back over the hill where they were shooting the Rico’s Corn Chips commercial. Cory put the wet rag over her face. Rather than drinking the water, she held the chilled bottle against her neck. Cicadas hummed and chirped from a field nearby, and there was the distant sound of an AD on a bullhorn.

“Move the balloon to the right!” she heard from down the hill.

The corn chip spot featured a hot air balloon. Cory played a runaway princess who escapes into the land of Rico’s Corn Chips. She took off the fake diamond tiara and twirled it around her finger.

Cory felt very contented. Her movie career had stalled when she balked at wearing Wayne Hampton’s revealing bathing suit. A young actress named Susan Sarandon had taken her place and the buzz was, Sarandon was getting a lot more work from that role.

Good going Susan, thought Cory. And she meant it. Cory did not feel jealousy or begrudge others of their successes. She was extremely happy doing TV commercials and an occasional sit-com appearance. Those were the kind of gigs where she didn’t have to worry about nude scenes or screaming bad words on camera. And the money was great. She just wished she could find someone to share it with.

Cory invested her money wisely. While she continued to live modestly, donating a generous percentage of her earnings to various churches and the family back in Minnesota, she had plenty of money to sustain her if she lived to be a healthy 120. Perhaps I could go home to Minnesota. Or maybe I could go into mission work? Maybe I’ll meet someone with a like mind.

She had plenty of dates with men from her church, but there was no spark in those relationships. They were more like brothers. Maybe I’m too choosy. Maybe I’m off my nut. She shook her head, becoming dizzy with indecision.

The coolness of the rag was draining away. She gently wiped her face and closed her eyes. As soon as she got back to L.A., she was going to talk to Reb Dowling or Minister Wooley about mission work. If she was going to labor in the heat of Dallas in August, she might as well labor in equatorial Africa, or South America, or the Philippines.

“Hello beautiful.”

Cory opened her eyes and saw Ron, the director standing over her.

“How long have you been standing there, Ron?”

“Not long enough. We’re ready.” He offered his hand and pulled her out of the chair. “Put your crown back on princess, we’re going to Rico Corn Chip Land.”

“Oh, goody.” As they headed back to the set, he kept his hand in hers. “You didn’t have to come get me Ron.”

“I enjoy the walk.”

“Yes, I’ve always enjoyed walking across a hot griddle.” 

He wiped the back of his neck with a tan rag. “You were worth the walk.”

Ever since he’d cast her, Ron was a constant flirt. He was cute and never tried anything. She really liked him and admired his work. His commercials were like mini-movies. They had a big screen look to them.

At first, Cory thought he was trying to butter her up. As a commercial director based in Dallas, a semi-famous actress could be a stepping stone to a career in feature films. That’s why she liked the guys at church. The closest they came to show biz ambition was singing in the choir.

After a short rehearsal and dinner at a swanky Dallas restaurant, Cory decided that Ron was just a lovable flirt.

“So what have you got after this?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m busy for the next three months. I’ve got a Texas Instruments Christmas campaign…that’s about five or six commercials, the client’s still deciding on how many. After that, I go out to L.A. to shoot a Volkswagen spot for a Chicago agency.”

Although Ron lived in Dallas, he got a lot of work from agencies in Chicago, New York, San Francisco, all of the major players. He did a lot of shooting in Los Angeles, but most of his work was international. Her hand was beginning to sweat, but she liked his firm grip.

“That’s why I like you Cory. You really seem interested in people.”

“I’m a people-person.”

“The Volkswagen stuff will be shot in Malibu. Maybe we can get together when I get out there.” His face was red from the heat. She didn’t think Ron was the shy type. And his eyes were serious.

“Give me a call Ron. There’s a chance I’ll be in Minnesota, though.” At thirty-five, Ron’s face was turning craggy before it’s time. Now the wrinkles lifted into an embarrassed smile as he tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I understand. Hey, I might be in Alaska,” he laughed. 

Cory’s face was serious. “Who knows where I’ll be. Minnesota. Maybe equatorial Africa.”

“I’ll say this for you, you’re flexible.” Both their hands were sweaty. 

She let go and let her palm breath, then she took his hand again. “Before we wrap tomorrow, I’ll give you my Minnesota phone number in case we miss each other.”

As they topped the hill, he gestured to the huge, red and blue hot air balloon with the Rico logo.

“Behold me lady. Thy royal air ship awaits!”