Red Room Where the Writers Are

This is an excerpt from pages 342-345 in my new publication IT'S ALL MAKE BELIEVE, ISN'T IT? *Marilyn Monroe Returns*. Go to www.lulu.com/bencampbell to preview this novel. Enjoy.

     “May I have your attention please. I now reintroduce to you Marilyn Monroe.”

     Like a circus ringleader introducing a new act he waved his hands overhead. The room erupted with applause and clears.    

     Marilyn’s dress billowed up to her waist from a burst of air from below. She struggled to push it down. The crowd cheered to see a body she couldn’t help but exhibit.    

     It was a glorious mess. Marilyn stepped forward and her dress lowered. She adored the reception, the beautiful people, the applause, and the acclamation…her rebirth. To her the opulence of friends was a human poem.    

     Five men were first in line to welcome Marilyn back. They stepped forward to stand in front of her. Their faces like fresh paintbrush strokes looked fuzzy in her eyes.    

     “We’ve missed you,” Sinatra said. “Come and join us.”    

     She addressed each one. She snuggled her arms to her torso making her breasts squeeze forward like balloons.    

     “Frank, Sammy, Dean, Joey and Peter,” Marilyn cooed.    

     “The fucking Rat Pack?” Casey whispered in Tommy’s ear.    

     “It’s part of the plan,” Tommy whispered back.    

     They were all handsome, in their forties and debonair. Marilyn accepted a kiss on the cheek from each of them except for Frank. He held her hands and gazed straight-faced.    

     “What is it?” Marilyn asked.    

     “You,” he said, “with my song playing in the background. “The September of My Years.”    

     “How fucking corny is that?” Casey whispered in Tommy’s ear.    

     “All those celebrities were corny,” Elwood whispered. “The whole decade of the sixties was fucking corny.”    

     “Careful what you say, Elwood,” Jesus whispered. “The fabulous Bob Marley and the Wailers made it in the sixties, as did the reggae greats Bunny Livingston and Peter Tosh.”     

     “Who were they?” Casey said.    

     Jesus rolled his eyes, as did Elwood.    

     “How the hell did we get like this?” Casey said. “Look at us. We’re all dressed for a funeral. And these fucking matching red shirts are irritating.”    

     “How did Marilyn get like that?” Elwood said.    

     “It’s just your imagination, Casey,” Tommy said. “Carpe diem.”    

     The Rat Pack moved on letting the procession continue. Slowly moving along greeting Marilyn, each celebrity enjoyed her reintroduction to stardom. Robert Mitchum from the movie the River of No Return cradled both her hands and moved on. Clark Gable and Montgomery Cliff from the Misfits stood friendly and charming while they both smiled at her and moved on. Cyd Charisse from her unfinished movie Something’s Got to Give stopped and bowed in reverie and moved on. Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon from Some Like it Hot kissed her hand, stared at her and moved on. Laurence Olivier from The Prince and the Show Girl was the only one to hug her, standing on his tiptoes squeezing her body, and he also moved on down the line. Tom Ewell from the movie The Seven Year Itch still wanted to bed her down and knew it best to move on. Donald O’Connor in There’s No Business Like Show Business, Lauren Bacall in How to Mary a Millionaire, Jane Russell in Gentleman Prefer Blonds, Joseph Cotton in Niagara, Cary Grant in Monkey Business, Richard Widmark in Don’t Bother to Knock, Bette Davis in All About Eve, Grocho Marx in Love Happy, all her co-stars were vividly happy about Marilyn’s return. They each greeted Marilyn, shook her hands, kissed and moved on.    

     Tommy’s party was a showcase of celebrities only surpassed by the academy awards presentations. They were always in Hollywood, on stage, televised and self-explanatory. This party was at a modest restaurant, in San Francisco, private and bewildering. The celebrities’ interactions with each other were as if the world had just been created. Some looked in awe at each other. Some gravitated to their favorite screen personality. Others downed their cocktails, smiled and waved to nobody in particular. The point was that the tribute and celebration was a momentous event for everybody.    

     “Where’s Steve Romberg?” Casey said, unimpressed with all the reunion of Hollywood’s best of the past.    

     “He’ll be along in a few minutes.” Tommy smiled at Casey knowing something nobody else knew.

     “I’ve never been around so many dead people that were still alive,” Jesus said.

www.lulu.com/bencampbell, you can preview and purchase IT'S ALL MAKE BELIEVE, ISN'T IT? *Marilyn Monroe Returns* on this secure site.