Read Online Hollywood by Charles Bukowski - Free Book Online Page A

only that had nothing to do with my being there, except that I was without funds and I wanted dearly to bring our love story to the screen and to the public and to the lovers of Christ.”
    “All this to get money to produce a screenplay that Hank didn’t even know about and hadn’t written?” asked Sarah.
    “Absolutely,” said Jon.
    “You’re crazy,” I suggested.
    “Maybe. Anyhow, the old lady got my love letter and I believed she had agreed to go to Switzerland with me to pick up the money. We made arrangements. Meanwhile there were two more trips, to kiss the feet of Christ and to light many candles plus some of the other kiss-kiss bit. Then...I got a call from my source. The woman who had the $80 million in Switzerland had the same exact name, was the same age of my old woman, but had been born in a different city of different parents. It was a stupid coincidence and it was over for me. I had been tricked. I’d have to get the money elsewhere...”
    “That’s one of the saddest fucking stories I’ve ever heard,” I said.
    “I’m sorry,” said Jon, “But it’s true.”
    “Why do you suffer like this just for the business of making movies?” asked Sarah.
    “Because I love it,” answered Jon.

14

    A couple of days later we were back down at Danny Server’s studio in Venice.
    “Another guy has written a movie about skid row and drinking,” said Jon, “so why don’t you check it out?”
    So we went there, Jon, Sarah and I. The people were already in their seats. But the bar was closed.
    “The bar is closed,” I said to Jon.
    “Yes,” he said.
    “Listen, we’ve got to get something to drink...”
    “There’s a liquor store about a block away, toward the water, on the other side of the street.”
    “We’ll be right back...”

    We made it down there, got 2 bottles of red and a corkscrew. On the way back we were stopped twice for handouts. Then we were outside the studio. I pushed the door open and we entered. It was dark. The movie was rolling.
    “Shit,” I said, “I can’t see! I can’t see a fucking thing!”
    Somebody hissed at me.
    “Same to you,” I said.
    “Will you please be quiet !” a woman said.
    “Let’s try the first row of seats,” said Sarah, “I think I see a couple of seats but I’m not sure.”
    We worked our way down front. I tripped over some feet.
    “You bastard,” I heard a man say softly.
    “Blow it,” I told him.
    We finally located 2 seats and sat down. Sarah got out the cigarettes and the lighter while I corkscrewed open a bottle. We had no drinking glasses, so I took a pull and passed the bottle to Sarah. She took a pull and handed it back. Then she lit up 2 cigarettes for us.
    The man who had written the movie, Back From Hades , had once had a series running on TV, one of those family shows. Pat Sellers. Well, the series had gone on and on but Pat lost the battle with the bottle and soon the series was doomed. Divorce. Loss of family, home. Pat was on skid row. Now Pat was making a comeback. Made this movie. He’s dry. And on the lecture tour, helping others.
    I took another hit of the wine, passed it to Sarah.
    I watched the movie. They were down on skid row. It was night and they had built a little fire. The men and women looked fairly well-dressed for skid row. They really didn’t look like bums. They looked like people who worked in Hollywood films, they looked like TV actors. And they each had a shopping cart in which they stored their earthly possessions. Only the shopping carts were brand new. They sparkled in the firelight. I had never seen shopping carts that new in any supermarket. Evidently they had been purchased for the movie itself.
    “Gimme the bottle,” I said to Sarah.
    I lifted it high and took a good hit. I heard the hissing sound again, followed by another hissing sound.
    “These people are ugly,” I said to Sarah. “What the hell’s wrong with them?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Back to the movie and the people in the