Scarecrow’s Dream by Flo Fitzpatrick Read Free Book Online

super-cops.”
    I nodded. “Those are almost worse than the sad shuffling train porter garbage from the forties.” I stared at Shane. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
    “Doing? Doing? I have no power. It’s ironic. I’ve protested for voting rights in the South and marched for the right of a black kid to drink out of the same water fountain in the park as the white kid he’d been playing ball with. Unfortunately it’s still damned hard for a black man to find a good role in a major film. And, Holly luv, when it comes to movies it all hinges on who holds the purse strings. I’m friends with a couple of actors who have the star power and the courage to make changes, and they’re trying but most of the rest are too scared to lose power or their paychecks—or worse.”
    I straightened my shoulders in determination. “It’s wrong on too many levels. But you’ve now made me raring to add actors to my list of folks who need some good old-fashioned demonstrations to help wake them up.”
    He laughed. “A crusader! Very nice, Holly Malone. You look like you could organize a whale of a protest. Lots of fire in those pretty green eyes.”
    I felt a blush start from my neck and warm my face. I focused on Joey, now flying back to perch on what was obviously “his” railing. Watching him gave me time to recover and ask, “So, where are you right now in the mix of producers and roles?”
    “Spending my days sniffing out good films. Musing about grabbing a giant pimp hat with a feather sticking out of it from some thrift store and sayin’ ‘to hell with it, I need the paycheck.’” He took my hand in his. “And this is not for public consumption, but I’ve been offered a controversial play with what has been described by the writer as a challenging role. New York theatre generally isn’t quite as stodgy and backward as film when it comes to tackling tricky issues.” He winced. “Then again, if I do it, I have visions of being tarred and feathered. Or drawn and quartered. Or all of the above.”
    “I’m intrigued, Mr. Halloran. And of course, you are sometimes referred to as one of Hollywood’s bad boys. Why not add to the mystique and dive into real trouble?”
    “Tell me you didn’t read the awful review years ago of Sheridan Falls ? The one calling me the black Steve McQueen?” He laughed. “I like Steve, though. We’ve done some off road bike racing together and shared more than a few pints at a pub or two. We’ve also talked about doing a sequel to Bullitt with me playing a San Francisco lawyer. And off topic, Miss Malone, but cut the Mr. Halloran crap and make it Shane. Please. It’s 1972. No one’s formal anymore, hadn’t ya heard? And, not that you’ve asked, but I’ll tell you nonetheless, I’m thirty-one. I’m not near old enough to be ‘Mister’ to you.”
    “Well, I’m seldom formal either,” I countered. “But then I’m one of those crazy ‘embrace humanity’ hippie types. On the other hand, I never met a movie star before so I wasn’t sure whether I needed to bow and kiss your feet or just get real.”
    Shane burst out laughing. “Love it! And I say get real, woman, get real.”
    “Well, movie star, you’ve now got me curious. What’s this new play about?”
    “Vietnam. Prisoners of war. Lots of angst and drama. I’m intrigued, although I wish the playwright had sent out more than a very brief synopsis and one scene. Truthfully, it was more like a thin trailer or blurb than anything else.”
    “But still. It doesn’t sound like light entertainment.”
    He nodded. “You’re right. Rob somebody, the playwright, said it dealt with a traitor and it’s definitely anti-war. Could ruffle a few feathers and make some folks nervous.” A wicked grin spread across his handsome face and he dropped all traces of the brogue. “I can’t wait.”
    “Me too. I like it already. What’s it called?”
    “ Trapped in the Basement .”
    April 2016
    Joey the bald eagle