Chương 7: Chapter 7: Paying to Act
After getting a free breakfast, Martin went out alone. After a night's rest, his leg pain had further improved, and the memories of his past were becoming increasingly clear.
Feeling better, he didn't want to waste time as there was still much to do.
Martin stored the burned discs safely, took his JVC camcorder, and headed to the grocery store on the north side of the community.
Early in the morning, Scott Carter was already drinking. Sunshine reflected on his face, and his nose was redder than the traffic light at the intersection.
Martin placed the camcorder on the counter and said, "Returning this to you. By the way, Harris received treatment."
Surprisingly, Scott put down the bottle and stood up to carefully inspect the camcorder, and his nose turned even redder. "Kid, where is my tape? You stole my tape!"
"Don't accuse me," Martin randomly fabricated a story. "The tape inside was used to bind a splint for your son. You can ask Elena."
Hearing his elder daughter's name, Scott slumped back into his seat and avoided mentioning Elena. "Tell that idiot Harris the tape is worth $20. He must bring the money by tomorrow."
Martin sidestepped this and asked, "Do you have any cheap cell phones?"
The phone he used yesterday was borrowed from Mrs. Wood by Lily.
"Broke ass, do you have money to buy a phone?" Scott speculated, "Did that bastard Jack return? Tell me where he is!"
Most people would seek revenge if their wife was taken away, but Scott's mind didn't work the same way: "Let me count. How many days has that bastard taken Emma? Damn, who knows how many times they've screwed. I'm charging daily, at least $100... no, $200 a day!"
Communicating with someone on a different wavelength was too difficult. Martin, fed up, was about to leave.
However, Scott pulled out a phone from beneath the counter. "European make, really sturdy. Even if you die, it'll still work."
Martin took it, recognizing the gray keypad phone from his past life, a Nokia 3210.
Noticing something off, he turned it over and found the back cover was cracked and glued back together, with a hole in the center of the crack.
Scott downed some alcohol and said, "This is a lucky phone. I don't usually show it to anyone. During a shootout between the Eagle Gang and another group, a delivery boy got hit by a stray bullet. The phone blocked it, though the battery was busted, so I replaced it."
Martin powered it on to confirm it worked and asked, "How much?"
Scott waved his hand generously, "Take it."
If it had been Harris or Elena's, Martin would have just taken it. But this was from Scott, a useless drunk and junkie who hadn't spent a dime on his kids since Elena was sixteen.
Free things often come with the highest price. Martin pulled out $20 from his pocket, placed it on the counter, and left with the phone.
Scott was surprised, "When did this fool get smart?"
Martin found a place to activate the phone service, bought several newspapers, especially those focused on social, economic, and entertainment news, and returned to his rented house to read carefully.
He needed to understand the social landscape.
Since the 1996 Olympics, Atlanta had rapidly developed. African Americans, who made up forty percent of the population, had seen significant improvements in economic, political, and social status.
Correspondingly, African American gangs, previously active mainly in the southern metropolitan areas, began entering bustling urban districts, constantly clashing with the existing white forces, leading to frequent robberies and shootings.
Martin also came across a recruitment announcement for "Animal House" in a small newspaper. The club, recently opened, was hiring male dancers.
Should he check it out?
A chill ran down his spine, and the back window clanged.
It got windy.
Martin went to close the window. The backyard was full of weeds, suddenly reminding him that a dead body was buried there--a grave he and Elena had dug.
The gentle spring breeze suddenly turned into a chilling wind.
Thinking of scaring people? Martin decided to throw a party in the backyard in a few days, inviting many people, and arranging for heavy rock and disco music.
Having worked too hard the previous night, he took a nap at noon. In the afternoon, Martin roamed around the Clayton neighborhood, looking for quick money opportunities.
There were quite a few, weeds and powder everywhere.
Many who didn't mess with these substances, like Elena, worked as part-time laborers. Those with stable jobs were a minority.
Martin Davis, in his previous state, had never held a stable job. He lived off Elena for a long time, frequently visiting the Marietta Community Theatre, dreaming of becoming a star.
Martin decided to check it out.
Resting another day, his body almost recovered. It happened to be the weekend, the theater's regular activity time, so he took an old bus to Margaret Square.
Margaret Mitchell, author of "Gone with the Wind," has a memorial here.
Martin walked towards the memorial, glanced at the wall inscription "When Hollywood Meets Marietta," and bypassed it to a small theater behind.
A van was parked in front. Jerome Mitchell, dressed formally, was directing people to unload. Seeing Martin, he ordered, "Hurry, come help!"
This was the leader of the Marietta Community Theatre, rumored to be related to Margaret Mitchell's family.
Martin limped over intentionally, carrying a small box into the theater.
Jerome asked, "You disappeared for a week, delaying a lot of work for the theater."
Martin hobbled past him, "I injured my leg. Just got out of bed and rushed here immediately."
With sharp eyes, Jerome stared at Martin, like a boss catching a slacker.
The goods were moved into storage. About a dozen people gathered inside the small theater, sitting in groups of three or four in the seats below the stage.
The United States has over 7,000 community theaters, and Marietta's was quite unremarkable.
Its claim to fame was that Robert Patrick, known for playing T-1000, had joined the theater in his youth.
Martin noted that the ten people were new faces he didn't recall from his memories.
Fat Robert approached and asked with concern, "Heard you injured your leg?"
Martin nodded, "Rested for a week." He gestured with his eyes, "Many newcomers?"
Robert, with a hint of helplessness, said, "The theater has many chores, often requiring us to help. We temp actors don't get paid, and with the membership fee cycle coming up, some left. One must eat to continue chasing the dream of stardom."
Reality versus dreams.
Jerome clapped his hands on stage to gather everyone's attention and said, "Good news for you all."
He didn't keep them guessing and announced, "Channel 2 and Gray Film Production Company are planning a plantation-themed play and will recruit actors next week at the Midtown Arts Theatre. I've been in touch with the casting director. You will all have the chance to be cast."
The newcomers were thrilled.
Robert, however, remained calm. They were just looking for extras.
Jerome added with a hint of pride, "You all know I have connections in Hollywood. I've just got a major scoop. A big-budget film starring Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet, with an investment of millions, will shortly be filmed in Atlanta. To cut costs, they'll recruit actors locally. I believe Marietta Theatre could produce another Robert Patrick."
Martin pondered, what movie did "Big Fish" and Jim Carrey star in together?
Casting out the tempting bait, Jerome started reeling them in: "The theater belongs to all of us. We use public facilities together and rehearsal expenses need covering. Theater maintenance costs need all our support. Therefore, we will collect a membership fee of $300 per month. I'm sure you understand."
It wasn't free acting; it was paying to act.
Martin, having seen much in life, wasn't surprised.
In his past life, a minor celebrity from his hometown reportedly had her family sell several properties to land a supporting role in a show.
Such pay-to-act scenarios weren't uncommon. Many wanted to pay but had no way in.
*****
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