Naked Portraits Pt. 16

"Come in," I said.

"Hey," Matt said as he slipped in and closed the door behind him.

"Don't you have a class right now?" I asked. Matt was one of those people who never cut class.

"Yeah, postmodern studies in literature and film," he said casually.

I shivered; the class required a ten-page paper every week. No problem for Matt, but I would have died in the first month. Matt excelled in the class and knows more about the postmodern movement the I ever will. Which is embarrassing since the post-modern is the new shirt I now wore. Supposedly, according to Matt, my current paintings made me a card-carrying member of the movement officially putting a sharp bloody fork in my old modernist carcass. All joking aside, the thought of running into Erma Beaumont my former mentor fills me with dread so much that I've been loosing sleep over it.

I blinked away my meanderings and asked, "So what's up?" Matt sat his long thin body on my shitty sofa. He looked at me for a few seconds, obviously trying to find the words to what was on his mind. I was ready to freak, worried that Hawk or Aly had ratted me out about the movie thing.

He took a deep breath and said, "I think Aly is seeing somebody."

"What? You still on that?" I said hugely relieved.

"Yeah, I know, but the feeling's gotten stronger." Then he said flatly, "I'm sure she is."

"Um...okay," I said unsure how to deal with this.

"I don't know what to think," Matt said echoing my feelings from his own angle. "I mean we have this group thing, me, you, her, Hawk. I don't know what to do."

"How do you feel about it?" I asked thinking of Hawks warning of how Matt might react to my affair with Aly. The fear of losing him, losing any of my lovers—flooded my brain with panic.

He stayed quiet for a few agonizing seconds then said, "Hurt, like she's cheating, but not just on me, on all of us. Do I have the right to feel this way? We don't have any boundaries." He laughed humorlessly. "Hawk certainly likes things this way. Maybe I'm not cutout for this. Maybe I'm too emotionally immature."

In a hand full of words, Matt had shown more honest feeling for Aly and me than Hawk has over our entire relationship, well, aside for one quiet whisper when he thought I was asleep but I could hardly count that. I reached out and touched his face and said, "Emotionally immature people don't do what you're doing, talking and feeling." After a long pause I said the only thing possible ... the truth. "Aly IS seeing someone."

Several emotions played across Matt's bearded face in quick succession.

I took a deep breath and said, "Aly is seeing me. We're lovers too. We kept it a secret because it was new and didn't know where it would go. We figured it was just a wild hair and it would fade away or something. It didn't, we came out to Hawk a week ago only because I got high on weed." I found Matt's eyes and said solemnly, "We didn't tell you because we didn't know how." I shook my head then clarified, "It was me ... I didn't know how. Aly and Hawk wanted to tell you sooner but I held back." I went quiet to see what he would say but he stayed quiet too. Then my fear and panic urged me to say, "I like what we have, you and me, Aly and Hawk. I need all of you in my life. I can't bare to lose any of you."

He stayed quiet for several seconds longer then said, "How did Hawk take the news?"

I had to laugh at that and said in my best California surfer dude accent, "You're lesbians! Totally awesome!" That made Matt smiled. I told him all of it ending with the stoned love making session with Aly and Hawk.

"Yow, man, that sounded intense," he said.

"It was." I leaned in and kissed him tenderly.

"I'm gonna go and drop off my current paper," Matt said with a small sweet smile.

"Yeah, go. You're in my fuckin' way haole boy." After one last quick kiss, he left.

A light knock came at the door and Nefertiti Ulamat stuck her pretty head in my studio.

"Hey boss," she said.

"Neffie please stop calling me that," I said. She had taken to calling me boss and it kind of annoyed me.

"Okay,"she said obviously unfazed by my scolding. "Can you take a break? I wanna show you something I discovered."

With a curious frown, I followed Neffie out into the hall. She led me to the east stare case covered with murals from the past and stopped in front of the mural of Aly's twin. After I had told her of the mural, Neffie had made it her personal mission to find out all she could about it. She crouched down practically sitting on the concrete at the base of the mural. "Look here," she said touching a finger to a section of the mural. I came up behind her and looked where she pointed. Written in dark blue-green paint, well hidden in the painted foliage, was the startling name Maggie Edo.

"Oh my God this is so strange," I said. "I just saw a painting of hers a couple of weeks ago." I explained to Neffie of young Brian Tutsuku's portrait from 1959.

Neffie stood up and looked at the central figure that looked too eerily like Aly.

"Maggie Edo must have been in her late thirties or early forties when she painted this. She'd be in her seventies now. I wonder if she's still alive?"

"How did you find the name?" I asked.

"I did like you did, I got high on pakalolo and sat here and looked."

"Neffie!" I barked.

"Oh please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "It's not like this is the first time I smoked weed. Anyway, I approached some of the older teachers to see if any remembered Edo and this mural. Some remembered but could tell me very little beyond Edo being a good student and excellent artist. I even talked to Erma Beaumont but my inquiries seem to irritate her. I kept pressing so she yelled at me for wasting her time. The woman's such a bitch."

I envied Neffie's brazenness for she had shown more courage toward Beaumont in that one encounter then I've been able to muster in all my years here.

"Another artist assisted Maggie Edo in this mural. Her name's Charlene Manson."

"Twiggy? The artist that donated her skeleton to the drawing department?" I asked surprised.

"That's the one," Neffie said pleased that the news impressed me. "Sandy Agato from the art office gave me a photo. Neffie reached into her bag and handed me an old color photo and said, "Maggie Edo is the one with her back to the camera. I think they were doing a Beatles' Sgt. Peppers thing. Anyway Charlene Manson is the one facing forward."

In the photo both girls wore paint stained overalls, both were identical in height. Charlene Manson was clearly Asian and I wondered if her last name was a married name. The Manson girl's bangs were long and almost obscured her eyes but what I could see of her face said she was very pretty.

Neffie said, "I asked Sandy about the photo and she said the two were tight, best friends to the end."

"The end was in 1973 for Charlene," I said remembering the brass plaque on her skeleton's support pole.

Neffie nodded. "Sandy said that Edo and Manson worked on another mural together just before Charlene went ill. She couldn't say where on campus it was but she remembered the pair were busted by security for breaking into the math department one night. Adrian Makai and Erma Beaumont came to the rescue talking campus security into letting the pair go without incident."

"Neffie you are a regular Nancy Drew," I said impressed. "Did you search for a second mural in the math building?"

"Top to bottom but it was more then thirty years ago it could have been painted over."

"Enough of the past I need to get back to my easel," I said.

"Can I hang and watch the paint dry?" Neffie asked.

"Sure," I said. Neffie is probably the only person I will let hang around when I'm working.

An hour into a new painting of Aly done in a cubistic style inspired by the Italian Futurists and a spider's web, Neffie said, "This Shelly chick is all you."

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"Shelly's New Dance. The main character Shelly could be you.

"Still don't know what the hell are you talking about?"

"You told me a that couple of your early nude self portraits was based on a story you read. I bought it and I just read it."

"Oh, that story," I said still more interested in getting Aly's fragmented face just right. Then I realized the story was pure sleazy porn and I asked," Are you old enough to be reading junk like that?"

She rolled her eyes like she had with the marijuana thing. "It's real steamy and dirty and definitely male orientated. The style is too kinetic for Picasso. Miro or Kandinski maybe?

What the Hell? I thought until I realized she was talking about the painting not the story. I said, "Baccioni, Italian Futurist."

"I'll look him up. Gotta go." Neffie rounded her stuff up and left my studio.

I covered my eyes and sighed worried what Nefertiti must be thinking after reading Shelly's New Dance. My cell chirped and it was Meka.

"Wanna go on a road trip to Maui? All expenses paid?"

My heart skipped."You ready to film my movie?" I asked totally freaked out.

"Fuck no! I haven't had time to think that one out yet. I'm flying to Maui to film the final sex scenes for a current project. I thought you might wanna tag along see how it's done."

I calmed a little and asked, "Is this going to be some kind of object lesson to make me back down?"

"If that's what happens, sure, but I think you're too fucked up to back down."

"I'm giving you the finger right now," I said.

"Finger taken."

Chapter 68 On the set

My bags thumped on the floor of a room at the rustic Lahaina Inn Hotel. It was more apartment then hotel with the living space dominated by an old fashion wicker sofa, matching side chairs and glass coffee table. One wall was dedicated to an impressive home entertainment system with flat screen TV and DVD player. A little hallway led to two separate bedrooms with a shared bath between them. I walked into one of the bedrooms with a sliding glass door and balcony.

I shouted, "Are you and I sharing a room or is Cole shacking with one of us?"

Cole, Meka's chief makeup guy, assistant director and all-round gofer flew in with us at the Kahului airport but got into his own rental car to run some errands.

"Neither," Meka shouted, "He's staying at the Western to keep herd on the cast and crew. I get the room with the balcony."

I walked to the balcony door and slid it open. The sounds of traffic one story below met me along with the warm Maui sun. The view was totally dominated by the monstrous Lahaina banyan tree across the street. A semi-organized tangle of local artists gathered under the vast shade of the tree awaiting the legions of tourists spilling out of the seemingly constant flow of diesel belching buses. To the right of the big tree was the old Lahaina jail converted into a cool little co-op gallery and to the right of that was the Lahaina boat harbor.

I walked back to the living room and said, "Cool view."

"Yeah I know," Meka said. "Order breakfast and don't hold back, my patrons are paying."

Using a menu conveniently laying near the phone, I ordered coffee, two cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs with Kula onions, Portuguese sausage, white rice, and just to be decadent a pitcher of mimosas. Ten minutes later our breakfast arrived and we went at it like hungry wolves. Meka ate her half of the food but left no room for her cinnamon roll so I claimed it as my own.

Over her her glass of mimosa, Meka said, "Where the fuck do you put it all you skinny little freak?"

"Definitely not in my tits like you," I said with a mouth full of roll.

"Oh fuck you and your zero body fat."

"Well fuck you too miss six foot tall Angelina Jolle look alike."

Meka laughed. "I would give it all up to eat like a pig and never gain an ounce."

An hour later Cole arrived and stayed just long enough to drop off some papers and camera equipment. "Gotta run," he said and headed for the door.

Before he bolted Meka asked, "You got the keys for the third rental?"

"Oh yeah." He tossed her a set of car keys. "Bobby parked it on the harbor side of the courthouse. You can't miss it, it's a grotesque economy car pink with yellow trim."

Meka held up the hand held camera that Cole had dropped of and said, "This is my ruse to get you on the set. I'm gonna forget the spare battery and the charger. I'll call and you bring it to the Maui Western Hotel. You know where it is? I'll make sure Luke and Patrick know you're coming."

"Who are Luke and Patrick?"

"Security, you'll know them when you see them. Hang at the set as long as you like but stay out of the way. When you've seen enough leave and I'll meet you back here."

"Sounds like a plan," I said. Meka sat at the wicker sofa, opened a folder and spread several glossy eight by tens on the glass coffee table then she got out a yellow writing pad and wrote notes. I sat next to her to look at the spread of photos.

"Isn't that Harry from the cove thing?" I asked. Meka nodded. I scanned the rest of the male glossies."They're all local?"

"Yeah, going for an island flair in this one."

"She's pretty," I said of a photo of a pretty Asian girl. She looked a little like me.

"Yeah. Name's Patty Aida, A law clerk that dose exotic dancing on the side. This is her first gig or would have been if she hadn't backed out at the last moment. David Tanaka been scrambling all night looking for a replacement. I don't even know if I'll have a second woman when I get to the set."

I picked up the photo of the woman and had a brilliant thought that made my heart skip but before I could voice my idea Meka cut in.

"No fucking way are you going to be in this Movie."

I gave her an innocent look.

"This one's not for you Gwen so please don't ask, okay?"

Relieved that my screwed up half didn't get it's way for once, I picked up the photo of a glamorous, beautiful brunette with striking facial features. "She looks familiar. Who is this?"

"That's Samantha Gris the first pro I've ever worked with," Meka said not looking up from her note taking. "You might have seen her in a couple of HBO specials."

"She hard to work with?"

"Surprisingly, no. The woman's sweet, smart and funny. Easy to work with. She's a redhead for this movie. Makes her look a litle like Ann Margaret the sixties movie star. That alone will perk up my patrons interests."

"Older crowd?"

"Yeah, like Oshi and Brian." Meka reached into her bag and pulled out a DVD. "This is her most current movie if you get bored." She gathered up her notes and photos. "I'll call your cell in the next couple of hours. The pink and yellow rental is yours'." Meka left.

As I poked around in my ratty shoulder bag for my book, my hand touched a round rough object. It was the Glass net float I had found on the beach at the photo shoot with Meka a few months back. I don't know what compelled me to bring it along. I put the greenish barnacled covered thing on the glass coffee table top and curled up on the wicker sofa to read.

Thirty minutes later I decided I was simply too wound up. My eyes fell on the unmarked DVD on the coffee table. I slid it my way, got up and went to the DVD player, put the disk in and flipped on the TV.

A slow piano rendition of Diamonds Are a Girl's best Friend started up. Marilyn's Show Starring Samantha Seeds in cursive pink letters faded in on the room's flat screen. The title and credits faded away leaving the screen black. On top of the piano music, people's voices gained volume. The screen slowly faded from black to a hanging cloth banner on a wall that read, Happy Birthday Eddie. The camera panned from the banner to a luxuriously furnished living room. A carpeted staircase decorated with balloons and ribbons dominated the background. Voices rose in volume, followed by a round of loud laughter.

A male voice said, "Happy birthday Eddie.

The camera paned right and six men, dressed casually, seated at a long table came into view. The shot slowly zoomed in on a strikingly handsome dark skinned man in his early forties with an unlit cigar in his mouth. He took the cigar out, and held it under his nose, closed his eyes and dramatically breathed in. "Why do these have to be illegal?" he said, with his eyes still close. On the table is a box of cigars surrounded by torn wrapping paper. "You guys surprise me. I expected something tasteless like a stripper not Cuban cigars."

"Eddie, we're hurt," said one of the men, "What do you think we are? A bunch of frat boys?"

"Give us credit boss," another chimed in. "We're a major law firm with a renowned reputation. We wouldn't dream of getting you a stripper for your birthday."

"That's right," said a third, "we got you a hooker instead."

Are you guys' crazy?" Eddie said with a look of disbelief.

The camera panned left to a set of double doors in another part of the room then slowly zoomed in on the doors. Both doors magically opened out and in stepped porn star Samantha Seeds. Her hair blonde done up in a classic Marilyn Monroe do. She wore a tight, thigh length, salmon pink dress that showed off lots of cleavage and leg. Her lips were ruby red and Marilyn's distinct mold adorned her left cheek. Although her figure was much slimmer then the iconic sex symbol and packed half the tits, she was no less sexy and beautiful.

Except for background piano music, the only sound on screen is the clicking of high heels on the expensive marble floor. Samantha walked up to Eddie and flashed a classic toothy Monroe smile. Then with small enticing shimmies, she sung the Happy Birthday song in a husky, breathy voice. At the end of the song, she leaned forward, mimed a kiss and winked.

There's a quick cut to Eddie's handsome face, his eyes wide open as the unlit cigar dropping from his mouth onto his lap.

"Oh my god, how do I hire you for myself?" one of the other men asked.

With her eyes still on the birthday boy, Samantha said, "Call my agent."

She gripped Eddie by the lapels of his polo shirt and pulled him to his feet. He managed to grab hold of the cigar in his lap before it hit the floor. The room broke into applause and whoops as Samantha led Eddie to a sliding panel door under the staircase. Eddie slid it open for her and the camera followed them into an old fashion study with walls of books, leather lounge chairs and a small leather sofa.

The scene cut to Samantha from inside the study as she slid the study door closed, muffling the clapping and whooping. She turned to face Eddie as he dropped onto the sofa, the cigar back in his mouth. Samantha kicked off her salmon heels and slowly step toward Eddie as she undid the zipper at the side of her dress and the garment fell to the floor revealing a salmon bra with matching panties. The woman was flawless and stunning.

Cut to a shot of Samantha from behind, Eddie is visible to one side looking up from the sofa. The scene is reminiscent of the movie The Graduate. Marilyn unhooked the bra and tossed it on Eddie's lap then she slipped out of the panties giving the camera a nice close view of her shapely ass. Eddie's face alternated from amazement to delight and back again.

Cut to a long full frontal shot of naked Samantha, a perfectly sculpted dark V adorned her pubic area.

Cut to a side shot of Samantha standing before Harry as she reached out and took the cigar from his mouth. "Is this Cuban?" she asked looking at the cigar in her hand.

"They're illegal here and over one hundred dollars apiece on the black market," Eddie said to impress her.

Cut to full frontal of naked Samantha as she says, "The cigar and I have two things in common, illegal and expensive." She smiled and lowered the cigar to her pubic area.

Cut to a close up of her running the length of the cigar across her clitoris. The camera follows as she slides the cigar into her mouth and skillfully rolled it from one cheek to the other. The camera zoomed out as she dropped to her knees between Eddie's legs. Cut to a shot of her looking up into Eddie's face. She took the cigar out of her mouth and with a small sly smile and said, "You confessed to a friend that you fantasized about getting a blowjob from Marilyn Monroe."