Chapter 43

Tuesday morning it was raining lightly so I kept the top up on my T-Bird. I noticed it was time to run the car through a car wash and vacuum out the front and back seats. Going to the beach last weekend had left it messy. That was even after using the woody station wagon. What a disaster if we hadn’t.

On the set, the writers were in a tizzy. It turns out Yale had never admitted females. You would think it was a world-class disaster. Well, they would have to reshoot one scene where it was mentioned. They now had Ellen’s character Lilly going to Bryn Mawr outside of Philadelphia.

Not only that the writers had flunked math. The story starts in 1889, Sir Nick dies in 1918. How could he have been married for thirty-three years? Fortunately, that was an easy fix.

To say Mr. Wayne was pissed was an understatement. I wish I had something to write with as he tore into the writers. I heard so many useful phrases, but I wouldn’t be able to remember them all. I also found out that Mr. Wayne was a hot burner. He got angry, let it out, and then got over it immediately.

If he had been drinking at lunch, and he got upset later, it could get really nasty. They tried to shoot all his scenes in the morning to avoid this situation.

We worked hard well into lunchtime. I had to grab a sandwich and eat it on the go, as I drove to Hollywood High. I tossed the wrappers in the backseat. Maybe this was why I had to get the car cleaned.

Before Miss Powell walked in, Nina and I hugged for a moment. She told me that slacks and a sports coat would be appropriate for Saturday night. I was to show up around six and help her make certain everything was ready. Also since she was her Dad’s hostess she would have to mingle with the guests. I could join her or entertain myself. I told her we would play it by ear.

I was really feeling comfortable with the class material. I had been spending time with my textbooks when waiting on the set and early in the evenings. Not every evening but most. I was ready to start my official tests for the State of California tomorrow.

Returning to the set we worked into the evening. Someone had left a newspaper so I read the front page. The situation in New York was getting out of control. The FBI had just announced they had a gangster by the name of Joe Valachi in custody. He had named the head of the five major crime families. Before this, no one had ever talked.

In the meantime, the gangs were still gunning each other down. This week a Daniel Garcia of the Norsemen was gun downed by members of the Italian Red Wings. Then Anthony Lavonchino of the Italian Sand Street Angels was killed by the Mau Maus. I never knew there were so many gangs in New York. Maybe they were like the minor leagues in baseball.