Awake in the Dark: The Best of Roger Ebert by Roger Ebert Read Free Book Online

pretended to sleep, the morning resolved itself as a melancholy foggy Saturday.
    "Have another anchovy, sweetheart," Marvin said, rousing himself at last. He drained the Heineken. "I love them," Michelle said.
    "She's been eating nothing but anchovies for the past day and a half," Marvin said. "You know why you like anchovies so much all of a sudden? You're knocked up. You're gonna have a little Lee Marvin."
    "Lee!" Michelle said. "You can't say that."

    "Why not?" he said. "Put it down: Michelle's knocked up. If you make it good enough, they'll never print it. And if they do print it, and come around and ask me, Did you really say that? I'll say, Sure, Isaid it. I need another beer."
    Michelle got up and went into the kitchen.
    "She's not really knocked up," Marvin said.
    He threw a leg over the arm of the chair. "I got a haircut before I went to London," he said. "I mean, it got a little ridiculous there after a while. I didn't get my hair cut for two movies, and it got a little long. I'm going back to a ... not a crew cut. Back to, oh, about a Presbyterian length. I'm tired of all this horseshit about hair." Marvin sighed, got up, and walked out to the porch. The air was heavy with fog.
    "That goddamn buoy," he said. Just down from his stretch of beach, a buoy stood in the sand. "It floated in one morning and they stuck it up there. It's on their property. Christ, I hate the sight of it, but I can't do anything about it. It looks like a phallic symbol. Hell, it is a phallic symbol. You get up in the morning and come out here and there's that goddamn buoy staring you in the face."
    He yawned. Down on the beach, a setter ran howling at a flock of birds. There was a chill this Saturday morning, and sounds were curiously muffled. Marvin peered out to sea. "Is that Jennifer Jones coming in on the surf?" he said. "No? Good."
    Michelle came up behind him with a Heineken. "Thanks, sweetheart." He walked back into the living room and sat down. "What was that we saw? Bob and Carol and Bill and Ted? What a piece of shit that was. Good performances, but what a piece of shit."
    "I loved it," Michelle said.
    "You go for all that touch-me-feel-me bullshit anyway," Marvin said. "Esalen. They take your money and teach you to put one hand on two nipples. Big fucking deal, baby."
    "It's about love," Michelle said. "It's looking at people. Look at me with love, Lee."
    "Take off your clothes, baby." Whistle. "Who takes the Pill for us now?" Pop! "LaBoo, come in here, you mean black prince." LaBoo came in from the porch and settled down on the rug with resignation and a sigh. "And still she wants to marry me," Marvin said. "It used to be, we'd check into a hotel, it was Mr. Marvin and Miss Triola. So she changed her name to Marvin, to save all that embarrassment. Now it's Mr. Marvin and Miss Marvin. . ."

    He yawned and took a pull of Heineken. Michelle excused herself and wandered down the hallway. Silence. The waves. "I never did read that interview in Playboy," Marvin said. "I read excerpts. It was all a lot of shit. They sent some guy to interview me. I sucked him in so bad. I even gave him the garbage-man story. How do you feel about violence in films, he says. I'll throw you the fuck out of here if you ask me that again, I say."
    Michelle wandered back into the room. "You took some pills?" Marvin said. "How many did you take? Should I call the doctor?"
    Michelle smiled. LaBoo, on the carpet, sighed deeply.
    "LaBoo," Michelle said, "you're supposed to stand around and pose in a movie star's home. That's what a poodle is for."
    "He stands around and shits, that's what kind of star I am," Marvin said. "It's not everybody gets ajap lighter from Hugh Hefner. Gee, thanks, Hef." Whistle. Pop. "Well, the royal family seemed to like the movie, anyway. Lord somebody said he liked jean Seberg. That was something."
    "Jean has good insides."
    "What?"
    "I said Jean Seberg has good insides," Michelle said.
    "Jesus Christ, I'm living with a dyke!" Marvin