Don Scribner’s Blog Actor, Screenwriter, Songwriter, Singer

rewrite and more of the book

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“How long do you plan on having me here?”  Sam gave an innocent almost apologetic look and used Robbie’s arms and hands up gesture.  Robbie understood that the time was not definitive.  “If it’s going to be over an hour maybe an order of sushi and water with a lemon… twist.”

“I’ll bring you some coffee.  Black alright?”

As Sam was leaving Robbie nodded as he cleared his throat, then rose and walked a few steps and stretched without a glance at the cameras. His movement seemed to lack purpose.   It was as if he wanted to fill in space… at least that’s the way I would write it.

I hadn’t taken any notes or thought of any questions, comments, or anything that I believed would help in the process, but wrote something anyway.  Ask him if he’s sure of his sexuality. Whitey looked at it and whispered, “Sam already has that down.”  I realized that whatever Whitey and I discussed about Teri was registered in his internal computer and discussed with Sam.

A moment later, Sam was back with coffee for two.  “I could use an entire pot.”  He handed one to Robbie.  “Again Mr. Baron, we appreciate you coming down to help us and anything you can tell us about her may do just that.”

Robbie seemed to accept that yet now appeared fidgety.  “This is being filmed right?”  He motioned toward the cameras.  “And, who’s watching?”

Not at all fazed, Sam yawned again.  “Of course it’s being documented.  This is a murder investigation and something you say now may help us later.  It’s so easy to miss the tree in the forest.  And, a couple of detectives are…”  He pointed to a camera.  “I’d like to ask you a couple of personal questions if it’s alright.”

Robbie put on his best smile.  “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.  You understand.”

Sam hinted at a quick smile.  “You did have a physical relationship with Miss Mitchell.”  Robbie stared straight ahead.  “How long did it last or was it still going on?”

“What we won’t do for friends.”  Robbie forced a chuckle.  “That’s extremely personal don’t you think?  But, since my wife recently filed for divorce I’ll answer.  Physical relationship… yes, we had one of those and it was sweet.  She was game for anything.  And, I mean anything.  She could have made some money in that area.  Actually, she did, didn’t she?  I kept her around.”

“You kept her around until the end, right?”  Robbie stiffened and Sam realized he may have crossed a line and softened the question.  “What I mean is you gave her opportunities for employment and friendship… always.”

I worked.  Robbie accepted it as a compliment, seemed less tense and rode with it.  “I did.  I gave her opportunities and friendship and she gave me…”  He leaned back with his hands behind his head.  “She gave me her charms.  Life’s a two-way street Detective.

Whitey pushed his notepad in front of me.  Piece of work, isn’t he? I enjoyed reading it, but it didn’t make me feel better.  All I could think of was ‘How could Teri be with him… ever?’

Sam then turned his head and looked directly at a camera as if he could see us.

Whitey leaned into me and whispered again.  “Watch this.  Sam’s about to spring.”

“How well do you know the guy she lived with in Orange County… the guy with the BMW’s?”

“Daniel… not well at all.  He didn’t really care for me.”

“Something against attorneys?”

Everybody laughed at that including Sam.

Robbie had his smug look now.  “Against this one for sure.”  Robbie fed off of Sam’s tell me more look.  “She spent more time with me than him.  She was there because of that big house and a new BMW.  But, it was in Orange County and she detested Orange County.  She found it all boring… business boring she said, including him.  She used to call me and beg to go on a trip.  She’d go anywhere anytime.”

“What about that last guy, the one before her husband?  Saltz.”

Robbie shook his head as he openly scoffed.  “Salt shaker?  We never got along either.  He’s a little more common than my usual associates.”

“Salt shaker, I like that.  Were you having physical relations with her when she was with him… too?”

“I’m nearing the end of the question and answer period Detective.  But, I don’t want to leave you with anything other than pure thoughts about our ‘physical relationship’ as you so deftly refer to it.  I introduced Teri to a wonderful world of physical freedom.  Now, you can interpret that any way you wish.  But, she loved it and she would have jumped at the opportunity to become Mrs. Baron.”

That piqued Sam’s attention.  “Why didn’t she?”

“She didn’t really fit.”

“Sexually?”

“Sexually she was up for anything.  That’s what I loved about her.  She was my little marionette.”

Sam seemed to sense that he had only a few questions left.  “Mr. Baron, we appreciate your candor so much, but you skirted the question and we are trying to solve a murder here.  Mr. Saltz was her last boyfriend unless you were still sleeping with her.”

Wow!  I’m watching a guy on a monitor that I truly don’t like and my heart is pounding with anticipation and when he leaned forward onto the table I wanted to slap his arms off.  But, above that I wanted him to say no.

“No, Detective, I wasn’t.  I don’t know what she saw in him.”

“Well, he does seem sure of his sexuality… doesn’t he?”  That comment was delivered

like a spear and Robbie’s eyes made a dart toward a camera.  Sam continued.  “Even I can see that.  Did she ever talk about him?“

It was easy to see the wheels working in Robbie’s eyes and he folded his arms and seemed to realize his weak body language and leaned back and gave a cagy comment.  “He’s a suspect isn’t he?  Figures.”

“At this point of time Mr. Barron we’re talking to everyone.  And, you didn’t answer the question.”

“I’m sorry Detective.  Yes, I believe she mentioned him at times.”

“When was the last time?”

Robbie scratched his neck and hesitating.  “I don’t recall.  The less I heard about him the better.  As I said, we didn’t really get along, socialize.”

Sam chuckled.  “Yeah, you never hung around together one-upping each other with your love connection.”  Robbie’s posture was now stiff and Sam seemed to be trying to push directly through it.  “You didn’t socialize together… have him over for drinks?”

“No, that didn’t happen.”

“Did you ever go over to his place?

1-22-10 more of the book

“There are things going on, but honestly I don’t know what.  Maybe I’ll have more information after I talk to Whitey.”  She gave me that I don’t believe you look.  I reached out and took her hand, held it for a moment and ever so gently kissed her fingers.  “Whitey thinks this is personal.  So do I, so think about what he asked you. “  She looked truly concerned now and I wanted to just hold her.  “Do me a favor, put my number on speed dial.  Just for security… I can be here in five minutes if I jog, but, two if I drive.”

It was easy to see that Missey was uncomfortable.  “I don’t like this.”

“I’ll come back.”

“No you won’t.  I’m a big girl and I’ve lived alone for a long time.  Why am I telling you this?  Somebody scratched my car.  This kind of stuff happens every day.  Maybe he felt he didn’t do a good enough job the first time.”

I didn’t think it was right to kiss her good-bye and settled for a hug that I loved.  What I didn’t like is she patted my back.  It felt dismissive.  And, I walked to the door.  “Lock this.  And, I’m glad you called me… very glad.  Call me before you go to bed.”

“Okay, look… go.  This whole scene is going too fast and in an area I’m not ready for… and…”  Trying not to interrupt I just listened and watched her soften with a beautiful vulnerability.  “Okay, I’ll call.”  Suddenly she leaned in and gave me a quick kiss.

I was like a little kid and acted it.  “Thank you thank you thank you.  You don’t know how much I loved that.”  She had a little unbelievable stare as I opened the door, stepped out and said:  “Lock the door.”

More of the book

It was time for me to hint at a question or two.   “Nice neighborhood.”
“It can be scary at night.”
We continued without breaking stride.  “You have a condo, apartment or what?”
“Four-plex.”  We continued walking and neared Ventura boulevard and the lights.  I wanted to ask her if she rented or what, but felt it was out of place.  Must be that Virgo quality because she read my mind.  “I bought it years ago as an investment.  The three rentals pay my mortgage and everything else.  It’s been good to me.”
Kung Pao is one of my pet places… inexpensive, lack of pretence, plenty of seating and tasty food.  The waiter gave us menus and water immediately and returned in a couple of minutes pen in hand.  Now, I always get my favorite hot and spicy garlic chicken and was about to order that when reality set in.  I’m with the woman of my dreams so stay away from the garlic on the slim chance you can kiss her goodnight.  “I’ll have chicken cashew please and a large sizzling rice soup.”  I hoped Missey would share.  She did and added that she loved my choice.
Because I cared about her I found myself taking the scratches on her car personally.  “If I talked to you as a writer Missey I would be asking if someone in your life would have reason to damage your car?”
“I’m a private person.  I go out of my way not to offend people and to be around problems and I’m not into gossip.”
The meal was spent making comments about the restaurant and food.  It was easy to see that she was affected by the entire day.  I wanted to provide some soothing words of opinion, but thought better of it.

6-17-09 more of the book

Missey turned left after the school and pulled into an interesting parking structure for a four-plex.  She had her own parking spot, but had to literally perform an interesting and challenging act of driving to park safely.  She did it like a pro and was out in seconds, leaving me surprised and looking for a place on the street.  There were many.
I can park a truck with the best of them and did so quickly.  I exited and met her at my car door.  We had about a four-block walk to Kung Pao and I reached for her hand.  She gave it freely.  I loved it.  Now, the area is actually dark, as in poorly lit at night, which so often indicates opportunity for crime.  But, there were only a couple of cars parked on the street, and her car was in the far left of four in her structure.  Someone had to select that car to vandalize.  What else… random violence?  Anything is possible.  But, I’d bet my writer’s pseudonym that this was personal and that made me want to hold her hand all the firmer.

more of the book

We walked out side by side to the stares of more than a few.  I stood a little taller and must have shone because of a halo of pride.
Missey parked in her usual spot across the street.  Of course, I parked there, also…  nothing like having hope.  It was a typical southern California evening, going down from the high 80’s and almost cool enough for a long sleeve shirt.  What an incredible climate to live in.  It was in the beautiful temperature that Missey made sure I realized we were not a couple.  She went directly to her car and gave me directions.  “It’s up Carpenter, the first left past the school.”  She got in her car and started it up.
I hustled over to mine and did the same.  Following her I realized that I wouldn’t care to be anywhere else right now.  We came to a light and I hoped she wouldn’t try to make it through on a yellow.  She didn’t.  She was aware and I was totally aware of her.  She drove like an accountant… sitting straight and being careful.  She may have some risk in a deep place within her, but I surmised that she absolutely meant “I’m just a girl.”  There is no pretense or wanna-be with Missey.  What you see is what you get.  And, I loved it, loved it, loved it.
It’s a good thing that it only took a few minutes to get there, because I was falling more for her while following.

Whatever is happening in life is at times pushed aside for a moment because of surprise and elation and that’s what just happened.  The sensation I was experiencing in that lower center part of my chest was seismic with rumbles and tremors.  This was a moment of complete happiness.  I felt like a kid and the vision of her smile would not soon be forgotten.  Her face registered trust and I realized connection.
Every relationship you have in life is different… every love is new… and to sense being a child in that situation was to touch the rapture of depth.  Nothing is beyond reach of children because the dream is there.  Suddenly I became incredibly powerful because of reality… her four letter word, ‘okay’.
We walked out side by side to the stares of more than a few.  I stood a little taller and must have shone because of a halo of pride.

6-2-09 more of the book

That piqued my curiosity because Missey said it so matter-of-factly and I turned and watched them sign for a moment or two.  Moustache man did have a feminine flair to his movements, but his body was more blockish making me think matronly.  I asked her why she thought that.
“It was the way he ordered his drink one night… vodka rocks.”
“I drink that sometimes.”
“I know… it was just the way that he said ‘rocks’.  It was kind of stretched out.  I don’t know.”  She tried to replicate his delivery and I enjoyed watching and listening.  “You were here that night.  I was standing at the bar talking to someone and you were sitting across from us.  I probably shouldn’t say this, but people always said that you watched me.”
“I do… I mean I did… and do, I still do.”
“Knowing that makes me a little uneasy.”
“That’s the last thing I would want to do.  I’m not obsessed.  I’m impressed and affected by the way you inhabit space… I don’t know.  I’ll say it again; I think you are remarkably beautiful.”  I was starting to sound like I was obsessed and quickly countered that.  “I’ll stop.  It won’t be easy, but I’ll stop.”
“I was also flattered.  Someday I’ll tell you why.”
Those incredible words indicated future.  I was so content I leaned back and took a deep breath realizing something significant just happened to me.  I was a happy camper, but didn’t know what to say so came out with the juvenile.  “Would you like another drink?”
Missey looked at her almost full glass.  “What would I do with it?”  I smiled and acknowledged her humor.  “I have to eat.  It’s just that I was too upset about my car to even think about it before.”
“Do you want something here?”
“No… it’s fine, but no.”
“You said you live in Studio City, how about something there, near your place.  I could follow you… park, maybe even walk.  I’d love to walk with you.  I would really love to walk with you.”
“You repeat things once in a while.”
“I know.  I know.  I do it for emphasis… emphasis.”
She smiled at my humor.  “Okay.”

6-12-09 more of the book

“And, he loves women.  We have something in common.”
She looked at me with the eyes of a skeptic.  I sometimes dislike my ability to discern thoughts of others.  But, it was evident that Missey did not appreciate being in the group of ‘something in common.’  I tried to recover.
“Some women are incredible.”  She didn’t respond, but I could see the hint of acceptance even as she watched a herd of people arrive.  My thought was that Los Angeles has too few country bars and could easily handle a few more.  But, that was personal greed.  The place was busy now… in fact, full as was the line for drinks.  The bartender was swamped and a sudden lack of ease of movement in the place, dictated for me, uncomfortable.  We both watched the bustle for a minute or two until I finally said:  “Melanie could handle this crowd.  She’s one of the best bartenders I’ve seen.”
“I hadn’t noticed.  I usually only have one drink.”
I noticed off in the corner, by the coffee pot that continuously brews, a guy who is deaf (and I’m sorry that I don’t know his name) was signing with a guy I recognized I think… He was somewhat slight with a moustache.  I found the signing fascinating and talked about it.
“Do you know the guy who is deaf?”
Missey glanced in the direction that I was obviously looking.  “Sorry, I only know the people who dance.”
I suspected that because I rarely saw her move around talking to people.  However, I wanted to share my thoughts with her.  “He’s having a conversation with some guy… signing.  I think it’s beautiful.
Missey was still watching them.  “I think he’s gay.”
That comment set me back and made me think.  “Which one?”
“The guy with the moustache.”