This is Chapter 15 of Lanterns of Babylon. If you would like to read the story from the beginning, please click on the pink tabs above.
City of Angels Church, 1975. Minister Reb Dowling
dismissed the group and everyone walked over to the fellowship hall for a
buffet. About two hundred of the congregation had shown up to listen to Paul’s
old roommate, Allan James, speak about his mission work in Venezuela.
Paul steered Allan
and his wife, Theresa through the crowd, making introductions to those he knew.
Zeke was helping a few of the ladies set up the food.
“Paul, over here!”
she cried. Paul, Allan, and Theresa headed over to the table with paper plates
stacked in two high mounds.
“I really enjoyed
your film, Allan,” said Zeke. When it came to physique, Allan was still a beach
ball compared to the taller, lanky Paul. In fact, he’d gained more weight over
the years.
Paul poked him in his ample belly. “I hope
you’re sharing some of that food that our church sends you.”
Allan turned red
and looked at Theresa. “Theresa will tell you that I lost twenty pounds in
Taiwan.”
“He did,” said
Theresa. “Then he found them again in South America.”
“Well come on
Bigfoot, let’s go load your plate full of spaghetti.”
The next day, more
eating was on the schedule. Paul picked Allan and Theresa up at their hotel and
headed over to Zeke’s.
They drove up to
the small church on 4th Street, where Zeke was helping her father
paint the steeple.
Paul waved from the car. “Come on Zeke, we’re
burning daylight!” Zeke had finished painting the bottom of the steeple and she
called down to her father who was repairing a windowpane.
“Almost done on
this side, Dad. Paul said he’d come back tomorrow and help us finish.” She was
holding out a wet brush and white paint dripped down on him. Ed Rosnowsky wiped
paint off his nose. “Sorry Dad.”
“Go on honey. I’m
going to finish the door, the panes and then go home.”
By now, Paul was
out of his car and walking up to them. “Afternoon Mr. Rosnowsky.”
Ed shook his hand and looked over at the car.
“Hello Paul. Did your friends arrive okay?”
“Yes sir, last
Friday. I’d introduce you, but I don’t want to interrupt.” Ed waved at Allan
and Theresa who were waving from the car.
“I expect a good
show tomorrow night!” Ed shouted towards the car. “Zeke tells me you’re a
dynamic speaker.”
“We try!” Allan
yelled back.
“I’ll be sitting
on the front row!” Ed called out.
“Allan brought
along some slides and home movies of the mission, Mr. Rosnowsky. I think you’re
really going to enjoy it.”
Ed was giving him
an even stare. “Now enough of this “Mr. Rosnowsky” talk. I am Ed to you.”
Paul looked
slightly embarrassed. “Yes sir…Ed.”
Zeke came out of
the front door. She had shed her overalls and now wore a simple purple dress.
“I hope the restaurant won’t throw me out in this rag.”
“It’s a good
looking rag,” said Paul.
She turned around 360 degrees. “Any paint on
me?”
“Not unless it’s
purple. Let’s go.”
As they headed for
the car, Zeke turned back to Ed. “We’ll be back tomorrow Dad with all of our
brushes and ready to work.”
“You kids have a
good time.” Ed smiled to himself. He liked Paul. He had misjudged the young
man. He was a square shooter. He just hoped that Paul wouldn’t break Zeke’s
heart. She loved him, but did Paul love her?
Paul, Zeke, Allan
and Theresa went out to dinner, then headed back to Paul’s apartment. They
played “Monopoly”, talked about the mission, Paul’s struggle as a writer and
Zeke’s music. Paul put on Zeke’s album while they played the board game.
“You’re really
good, Zeke,” said Theresa. “I’d like to buy a copy of each of your albums and
take them back to the kids in Cualo. There’s a little girl there who loves
playing the piano. She’s a prodigy.”
“By the way,
thanks for the piano,” said Allan. “City of Angels has taken very good care of
us.”
Paul held his
hands up mockingly. “Wait a minute. My money paid for a piano? I thought I was
buying Bibles.”
“Oh, we got the
Bibles too,” said Theresa. “And they’ll get as much a workout as the piano.”
“It sounds
wonderful,” said Zeke. “Maybe I could fly down there and give a concert with
your prodigy.”
“You’re welcome
anytime,” said Allan.
The next evening,
Allan and Theresa spoke about the mission in Cualo. The four hundred members,
who showed up, were treated to the film about the mission and the people there.
Theresa spoke about the young man who had grown up worshipping a stone statue
in the jungle. When he learned of God, he not only converted, but also set up a
jungle ministry where he traveled the villages and told people about Jesus.
Like the two
nights before, a buffet was set up in the fellowship hall. As everyone sat
around eating, Cory Stilling walked up to Paul.
“Hi Paul.”
“Oh, hi Cory.”
Paul introduced Allan and Theresa. “Allan, you might recognize Cory from the
movies and TV.” Allan shook her hand warmly.
“I saw you in that
space thing.”
Cory blushed. “Out
There” was about a young woman who thinks aliens have abducted her, but
actually she was lost in an amusement park with a space theme. “Out There” was
supposed to be a comedy, but it was universally panned.
“Guilty,” said
Cory. “I’m not going to try and defend myself for that one.”
“Oh no, you were
great. It was the script that was bad.”
“You said it, not
me.”
Paul had finally
gotten the nerve to introduce himself to Cory. She was so down to earth and he
felt very comfortable around her. He still hadn’t gotten up the courage to show
her his screenplay. They worked together on a Christmas pageant for the church.
She directed, and he wrote the narration which was mostly the 2nd
chapter of Luke. Zeke wrote some songs for Mary and Joseph and the wise men.
“I plan on going
down to Venezuela to shoot a film,” said Cory. “I would love to visit the
mission.”
“When are you
coming down?” Theresa asked.
“This summer. It’s
a low budget feature based on Sister Cammeron, the nun who worked in Peru.”
“Why aren’t they
shooting it in Peru?”
“Like I said, it’s
low budget.
“Then why don’t
they shoot it in Mexico?” Paul asked.
“It’s cheaper to
shoot in Venezuela,” replied Cory.
“Give us a call
when you come down,” said Allan.
“Are you playing
Sister Cammeron?” Theresa asked.
Cory shook her
head, “No, I have a co-starring role. I play a teacher.”
Not long before
she took the Venezuela picture, Mickey Yulin had offered Cory the part of Edie
Bronson in “Street Shadow”. It was a good part, starring opposite Josh Smythe.
Mickey had called her from London with the offer.
“I’ll be honest
Cory…” said Mickey. “…I want you to do a nude scene. I know how you feel about
that, but let me say, it will be done very tastefully with lots of shadows and
muted lighting.”
“I believe you,
Mickey. You gave me my first good role. And I don’t mind playing a recovering
drug addict...”
Mickey did not let her continue. “…But no
nudity, right?”
“That’s how I
feel,” she replied.
There was a brief
pause. The long distance lines crackled across the Atlantic. Cory could almost
hear Mickey thinking. Then he spoke. “What if I guaranteed you a piece of the
action? This film is going to make a bundle. For six months filming you could
clear a couple of million.”
For the fastest
one millionth of a second in history, Cory thought about it. Think of the good
she could do. A couple of million dollars could really spread God’s word, feed
many people, and Mickey was always honest with her, but…
“I don’t think so
Mickey. I’m flattered you think enough of my talent to offer, but I just can’t
do it.”
“I admire your
principles kid. If you change your mind, give me a call. I won’t be casting for
two months.”
“Thanks, Mick.”
Cory didn’t expect
to get too many offers like that, but with Jesus, it was really an easy
decision. It was nothing for her to regret.
When the buffet
broke up, Cory tried to rush to her car without appearing so. Ron said he was
going to call from Hawaii where he was shooting a Pineapple Delight spot. She
heard a voice calling to her.
“Cory!” She turned to see Janie Lambert coming down
the walk. Janie was a timid bank clerk who had a beautiful singing voice, but
didn’t talk a lot. They were in the same Bible study group. Cory liked Janie.
She was a mousy little woman who had lost her husband of twenty years to
cancer. They had no children, and when Alvin, her husband died, the shy woman
reached out to the Bible study group.
“Hi Janie. Did you get enough to eat?”
Janie patted her
stomach. “More than enough, I’m afraid. Uh, may I talk to you?” Cory did some
mental figuring. It would take her twenty minutes to get home. She didn’t want
to miss Ron’s call, but Janie was a woman of few words.
“Sure Janie. What
do you need?”
The short, spare
woman kept her eyes on her shoes as she spoke. “Someone told me you had a
pretty good business head on you.”
Cory swiveled her
head. “It’s still here. I guess it’s okay.”
“Uh, Minister
Dowling said you suggested the recent church expansion and even negotiated the
sale on the property across the street.”
“Yeah, I helped,
but it was mostly the elders who did the negotiating.”
Janie shook her
head and smiled. “Reb Dowling said you seemed to know all about the drainage
and right of way and stuff like that. And he said you had a good handle on
permits.”
“I know a little.
My father is a minister in Minneapolis and when we moved to a new church ten
years ago, I was the church secretary’s assistant. A lot of facts came across
my desk.”
Janie kept her
eyes on the ground, looking more embarrassed by the moment. “Well…since Alvin
died, I’ve been at a loss. He handled all the business.”
“I understand,”
said Cory.
“And…well…we owned
some property in the downtown area and I need some help.”
“What kind of
help, Janie?”
“There’s this
building that’s been in my husband’s family for years. When Alvin died, it
became mine. It’s a beat up old warehouse really. A family ran a wholesale
business there and they paid us rent. When the lease was up, they moved out.”
“Are you looking
for new tenants?”
“Not really. Mr.
Devaney, the real estate agent who handles warehouses in that area wants to buy
it.”
“For how much?”
“Thirty thousand.”
That didn’t sound like very much, even for an old beat up warehouse.
“How big is it in
square footage?”
“Oh dear, I have
no idea.”
“Can you give me a
ball park figure?”
“Oh no, it’s not
as big as a ball park.”
“I mean in
general, how big is it? As big as say…our church?” Janie looked back up at the
large edifice.
“Oh no, not that
big. Maybe it’s about half the size of the church.” That was pretty big. Cory
wasn’t familiar with the warehouse district near downtown, but a building that
big was probably worth a lot more than thirty thousand dollars. The property
might even be worth more if the building wasn’t standing on it.
“I’d like to see
it, Janie. Why don’t we go over there on Tuesday and give it a look”
Janie raised her
head and smiled. “You’d do that for me, Cory?”
Cory put an arm around her. “Of course I
would. We are sisters in Christ.”
Judd gunned the
Harley one last time for luck. The canyon spread out before him as an unending
vista of greens and browns. In Wyoming, the air was fresh and clear. The
mountains formed a purple backdrop against the fifty-foot gap that lay before
him. I can do this. It’s going to be a tough one. I did it back at The Ranch. I
can do this. The mental mantra of “I can do this” was born out of confidence
and habit. Judd always repeated it to himself on an especially difficult stunt.
When I did it back at the ranch, it was a flawless feat, he thought.
The Ranch was a
training area for stuntmen north of L.A.
Solomon Branch had set it up just before he retired. The Ranch had five
towers, cliffs, a river with rapids, a one lane paved strip that went half a
mile to a dead end, and all the tools a stuntman needed for his trade. Solomon
was working on a building that could burn over and over. He had some of the
best special effects people and carpenters working on it. Solomon had even
contacted the Disney engineers to help him out.
Back on The Ranch,
Judd marked off eighty feet on the paved strip and set up a ramp. He went over
the stunt several times, adjusting his speed. Then he shortened the eighty feet
to sixty feet. He jumped the cycle easily at that length. Now, all he had to do
was jump the fifty feet over the canyon. The bad news was, it was a two
hundred-foot drop if he didn’t make it. Or if he pulled short, he could crash
into the cliff on the other side.
“Ready!” yelled
the A.D.
Judd nodded and
pulled the visor down from his helmet. There were three cameras set up to catch
the stunt. He could see the helicopter whirring near the canyon, staying in
position. Here goes.
If he wasn’t an
atheist, he’d probably be praying to God, but Judd believed in just one thing.
Himself. He was in control. He had walked the path that the cycle would pursue.
He cleared away the small pebbles that could be trouble. He checked and
re-checked his landing area, assigning a younger stuntman to keep it clear of
debris. He had a team with push brooms to clear the area to his satisfaction.
Judd depended on no one but himself to make this stunt work. God would not lift
his motorcycle across the canyon. He had gone over the cycle forty different
times, checking the engine, keeping it in good tune. He took the tire pressure
once more and made sure he had just enough gas to accomplish the gag. Now, his
hard work was about to pay off. Judd signaled the A.D. that he was ready. He
was confident now, relishing the familiar adrenaline rush that coursed through
his veins.
He tensed forward.
Other than the helicopter, everyone was standing still, looking at him. There
was a little wind, but it would be okay. Judd felt right about it. This was
going to be a fantastic jump. The world suddenly slowed down. He let his body
relax. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the A.D. waving a flag
and shouting into his bullhorn.
“Go! Go! Go!”
shouted the A.D.
Judd hit the gas
and shot off towards the canyon. The motor roared in his ears as he gave it
more gas. The cliff was rushing up to him at fifty-five miles per hour. If he
hit it too slow, he could crash into the other side. If he went too fast, he’d
lose control on the landing.
The needle moved
up to sixty. He would hold it steady when it hit sixty-two miles per hour. The
gap loomed ahead and for a moment, it looked like a mile wide. The needle hit
sixty-one mph. Judd’s eyes moved from his speedometer to the horizon. He was
looking for dust blowing. A sudden gust or an updraft could kill him. He had
planted a windsock on the other side out of camera range. It was blowing a
little. So far, so good. The needle hit sixty-two mph. He crossed a faint line
he’d drawn in the dirt with his toe. That was it. The point of no return. If he
braked hard, the bike would continue forward, over the lip of the canyon. If he
leaped off the cycle he could be killed, or dragged off the cliff. His momentum
would take him over the cliff with the cycle.
The ramp was
buried in the dirt near the edge. It was not high enough to show up on camera,
but the angle allowed the required arch of the motor cycle. He hit it at
sixty-three miles per hour. Judd felt the earth leave from under his wheels.
For a second, he felt like he was suspended in mid air. Don’t look down. Keep
your eyes on your landing point.
The cycle flew in
a broad arc, gaining altitude. The opposite side of rock was barreling towards
him. For just a brief moment, he thought he’d miscalculated. He was going to be
short! It was the angle. It looked like he would hit the side of the cliff, but
the cycle would make it. He braced himself for the landing.
The other side of
the canyon seemed to scoop under him. Whack! The cycle hit the other side and
swerved into a fish tail. Judd fought for balance and was able to get it under
control. He kept going for two hundred more feet before slowing down.
The crew applauded
wildly as he rode up to them.
“Beautiful!”
shouted his stunt assistant.
“You’re the best,
Judd!” screamed Alex Sand, whom moviegoers would think actually did the canyon
leap. Alex was the hot new action star. Everyone had come out to watch the
stunt.
Judd made a mock
bow, low and long. He took off his helmet and accepted some cold lemonade that
an assistant brought him.
Goldie, who was
working with the continuity woman walked up to him and gave him a hug. “You are
a wild man.”
“I’ve been telling
you,” said Judd. “Aren’t you glad I got you this job?”
“Yeah, I want to
be there when you splatter your beautiful black body against Snake Canyon.”
“I was in control
all along.”
“I still prayed
for you.”
He touched her face softly. “Thanks Goldie.”
In the past few
months, they had seen each other, but Goldie was dating a man from her church.
Judd was pretty busy. He’d been seeing a costume assistant at one of the
studios. At times, he tried to get something going with Goldie of a more
intimate nature. She gently, but sternly rejected his advances.
“I’m proud to be a
twenty seven year old virgin, Judd. As far as I’m concerned, there’s one man
out there for me. And so far, you aren’t him.”
The rejections
hurt, but he knew it was true. In an attempt to meet her halfway, Judd went to
church down in Compton. He didn’t tell Goldie. He didn’t want her to know and
get her hopes up, so he secretly attended a service.
As he sat in the
back pew, listening to the minister’s message about Saul on the road to
Damascus, Judd found his mind questioning every verse. He mentally took the
story of Paul’s conversion apart. Being blinded and hearing the voice of God
could be symptoms of epilepsy or maybe a minor stroke. It was illogical to be
anything spiritual. As the congregation stood to sing the invitation song, Judd
slipped quietly out the back.
