Page 53 - The Myth and the Moment

Afternoon

He evidently saw his chance with that play. He manipulated me, he
manipulated you—whether you know it or not—he managed to turn
the whole thing around so that it came out like a television play:
second rate Paddy Chayefsky or Tennessee Williams at best. The
experience left such a bad taste in my mouth that I quit, rave reviews
notwithstanding. I went on to other things: politics, poetry, marriage,
divorce, odd jobs, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that within two
years Phil Kolpak put on three more plays, all authored or co-
authored by him. They were great successes, and gave him the power
to move up the show-business ladder. They were also all based on my
ideas. After the second one I tried calling him; his number had
changed and was now unlisted. I never got through. I sent him letters
care of the theater. No answer. I finally gave up. That is why today’s
experience has been so horrifying to me. It’s a replay.”
Forgot to look her in the eyes again!
“That’s quite a story, Nate. I used to wonder why you never had
another hit. Phil said once that you couldn’t handle success. I mean,
he said it very sympathetically. He’s a very complex man: even I
cannot always read his mood. Now, your mood is obvious. I’ve never
seen such a mottled aura. You certainly will make yourself ill if this
goes on much—”
Rrrring!
She’s right. I’m so tense my head aches. Aura?
“Hello? Yes. Yes, Phil, he’s still here. Yes. Yes. No, I’m free until
three o’clock. What? No, it’s the Centrifix Group. All right, I’ll try.
And if he won’t? All right. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye.”
The what? What is this?
“Nate: here is what he says. He doesn’t want to deal with you over
the phone, or through me. He wants you to go up to his house and
talk things over.”
“I don’t want to talk things over. I want my papers.”
“Now you’re sounding childish. It seems to me he’s being quite
reasonable. If you want to settle this without making a bigger scene,
then you ought to take him up on it while he’s still in a good mood.”
But what if—ah, what more could he do to me? He doesn’t even
know what he’s already done. I’m not afraid of that son-of-a-bitch.
He’s not so tough. Got to be at least as old as I am, and probably

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