Page 67 - The Myth and the Moment

Evening

that old character-armor. Doctor Reich, where are you when we need
you?
“Here. Have a seat. I guess we can eat in about twenty minutes. I
have some work to do, but it can wait.”
Ah, such magnanimity beaming forth from the Great Man seated
at his desk, like an admiral on the bridge of his flagship. And I, poor
supplicant, folded and helpless on pneumatic cushions, smile
sympathetically, as if in complete comprehension and appreciation of
his sacrifice. Bullshit.
“Phil, I don’t think you understand what I lost. And until you do,
you can’t appreciate how I feel. Or what I will sacrifice to get it
back.”
“Okay, Nate. Tell me what you lost. I’m listening.”
Smug bugger!
“I will, I will. But first you have to understand something about it,
something alien to your experience. It has no cash value. It is not a
commodity. It is not a script or a story or an outline of a movie plot.
Whoever has it cannot make ten cents on it.”
“You really do undervalue your work, you know. Maybe that’s
what kept you poor and made you bitter. If you had stayed with the
Blue Dharma, that would all—”
“No, Phil, you’re not getting it yet. And no thanks for the off-the-
cuff psychoanalysis: I’m not a character in one of your cardboard
teleplays. What I’m trying to tell you is that there is no, repeat no,
rational reason for you to hold on to my papers. You made a mistake.
A daring daylight robbery, to be sure, one for the annals of
Hollywood at its lowest, but all for naught. You are left with nothing
but sheer nastiness as a motive for not giving them back to me. I will
not retaliate in any punitive fashion: no police, no lawyers, no raking
your name through the yellow muck of the trade papers and gossip
columns—if you hand the file over to me right now. I will take it and
walk out of this room, out of this house, out of your life. Just like it
hadn’t happened.”
“But it didn’t happen. I really don’t know why you’ve got this
obsession about me, Nate. I’m trying to tell you something, too. I can
still help you, do you understand? You’re as good a writer as any of
these kids I represent today. And they’re making out like bandits!
Look at me: I’m doing other people’s work. I can represent you,

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