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

and they can’t stop it.”
“And,” said Meister conspiratorily, “they can’t keep us from sending it up,
making a comedy of it, and making some bucks.”
“Now,” said Slavo, all business. “I’d like you to make yourselves
comfortable, while I read through what we’ve got for you. Some of the titles are just
roughs, you’ll get the idea though, so bear with me. We’ll have a title writer go over
it after we finish the shooting and cutting. Here’s the scene: We open on a shot of
cotton fields in Alabama, usual stuff, then we come in on a sign: County Fair
September 15-22. Then we come down on a shot of the sideshow booths, the
midway, big posters, et cetera.”
And so it was that Mantan Brown found himself in the production of The
Medicine Cabinet of Dr. Killpatient.
Mantan was on the set, watching them paint scenery.
Slavo was rehearsing Lafayette Monroe and Arkady Jackson, who’d come in
that morning. They were still in their street clothes. Monroe must have been 7 feet 3
inches tall.
“Here we go,” said Slavo, “try these.”
What he’d given Lafayette were two halves of Ping-Pong balls with black dots
drawn on them. The giant placed them over his eyes.
“Man, man,” said Arkady.
 Slavo was back ten feet, holding both arms and hands out, one inverted,
forming a square with his thumbs and index fingers.
“Perfect!” he said. “Mantan?”
“Yes, Mr. Slavo?”
“Let’s try the scene where you back around the corner and bump into him.”
“Okay,” said Brown.
They ran through it. Mantan backed into Lafayette, did a freeze, reached back,
turned, did a double take, and was gone.
Arkady was rolling on the floor. The Ping-Pong balls popped off Lafayette’s
face as he exploded with laughter.
“Okay,” said Slavo, catching his breath. “Okay. This time, Lafayette, just as
he touches you, turn your head down a little and toward him. Slowly, but just so
you’re looking at him when he’s looking at you.”
“I can’t see a thing, Mr. Slavo.”
“There’ll be holes in the pupils when we do it. And remember, a line of
smoke’s going to come up from the floor where Mr. Brown was when we get
finished with the film.”
“I’m afraid I’ll bust out laughing,” said Lafayette.
“Just think about money,” said Slavo. “Let’s go through it one more time.
Only this time, Mantan . . .”
“Yes, sir?”
“This time, Mantan, bug your eyes out a little bit more.”
The hair stood up on his neck.
“Yes sir, Mr. Slavo.”
The circles under Slavo’s eyes seemed to have darkened as the day wore on.
“I would have liked to have gone out to the West Coast with everyone else,”
he said, as they took a break during the run-throughs. “Then I realized this was a
wide-open field, the race pictures. I make exactly the movies I want. They go out to
600 theaters in the North, and 850 in the South. They make money. Some go into
state’s rights distribution. I’m happy. Guys like Mr. Meister are happy--” He looked