"Howard Waldrop - Occam's Ducks" - читать интересную книгу автора (Waldrop Howard)

weasel-trimmed wrap rested n the back of her chair.
“Somethin’, huh?” asked Le Roi Chicken, a dancer from Harlem who’d been
in revues with both Moran and Mack and Buck and Bubbles. “Her name’s Pauline
Christian.”
“Hey, Mr. Brown,” said someone across the room. “I thought you was just a
caution in Mantan of the Apes.!”
Mantan smiled, pleased. They’d made the film in three days, mostly in the
Authentic African Gardens of a white guy’s plantation house in Sea Island, Georgia,
during the mornings and afternoons before his tent shows at night. Somebody had
called some body who’d called somebody else to get him the job. He hadn’t seen
the film yet, but from what he remembered of making it, it was probably pretty
funny.
“I’m here for the five dollars a day. just like all of you.” he said.
“That’s funny,” said fifteen people in unison, “us all is getting ten dollars a
day! “
While they were laughing, a door opened in the far corner. A tough white mug
who looked like an icebox smoking a cigar came out, yelled for quiet, and read
names off a list.
Mantan, Pauline Christian, and Lorenzo Fairweather were taken into an office.
“Welcome, welcome,” said Mr. Meister, who was a shorter version of the guy
who’d called off the names on the clipboard.
Marcel Slavo sat in a chair facing them. Willie had been right. Slavo had dark
spots under his eyes and looked like he slept with his face on a waffle iron. He was
pale as a slug, and smoking a Fatima in a holder.
“The others, the extras, will be fitted today, then sent home. They’ll be back
Thursday and Friday for the shooting. You three, plus Lafayette Monroe and
Arkady Jackson, are the principals. Mr. Meister here--” Meister waved to them and
Marcel continued, “--has got money to shoot a two-reeler race picture. His friends
would like to expand their movie investments. We’ll go on to the script later,
rehearse tomorrow and Wednesday, and shoot for two days. I know that’s unusual,
not the way you’re all used to working, but this isn’t the ordinary two-reeler. I want
us all to be proud of it.”
“And I--and my backers--want it in the can by Friday night,” said Mr. Meister.
They laughed nervously.
 “The two other principals will join us Wednesday. We can cover most of their
shots Thursday afternoon,” said Slavo.
He then talked with Lorenzo about the plays he’d been in, and with Mantan
about his act. “Mantan of the Apes was why I wanted you,” he said, “And Pauline,”
he turned to her. “You’ve got great potential. I saw you in Upholding the Race last
week. A small part. but you brought something to it. I think we can make a funny
satire here, one people will remember.” He seemed tired: He stopped a moment.
“And-- “ said Meister.
“And I want to thank you. There’s a movie out there right now. It’s the
apotheosis of screen art--”
“What?” asked Lorenzo.
“The bee’s knees,” said Mantan.
“Thank you, Mr. Brown. It’s the epitome of moviemaking. It’s in trouble
because it was made in Germany; veterans’ groups picketing outside, all that stuff
everywhere it plays. There’s never been anything like it, not in America, France, or
Italy. And it’s just a bunch of bohunks keeping people away from it. Well, it’s art,