The Glass Heart

Alexander Hope

Published by Alexander Hope at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Alexander Hope


Chapter One

Outside a small café, three drama students waited for Elisabeth Gooding. Candy Wade, a conservative young wanabe actress, thought of all the time spent and wasted pursuing this monthly ritual; waiting for Elisabeth Gooding. Miss Perfect. Never take a friend, who is more beautiful than you, to your auditions; eventually, someone will see Miss Perfect and decide that she should audition alongside you; and damn if your friend doesn’t get the juiciest part of the year. The three of them had been doing the Elisabeth Gooding ritual for five years. Ever since Elisabeth became a TV child-star. Candy felt Elisabeth had got the job and the fame and the money and had done very little to help her best friend, Miss Candy Wade, get into the business. All four of them had started drama school together in Orange County, but now Elisabeth was living in Hollywood and visiting only once a month. A couple of years back, when Elisabeth started her new series, Candy cornered her old friend, at the Burbank Studios, and started a conversation with her.
“But, you promised me" Candy said to Elisabeth.
"I got you three auditions," Elisabeth said.
“You said I didn't nail the Jenny part, but you said I nailed the Ashley part.”
“You nailed it. But Gladie Thompson got the role."
“She's got that role because she is black not because she is a good actor."
“She's got the job because she's a damn good actor. She won the Emmy for best supporting actress in a dramatic series."
“She was given that Emmy because she is the token black for this year."
"Jesus! Candy! She's one of the finest actresses in Hollywood," Elisabeth said. "I can get you the auditions but I can't get you the gigs."
“You should get me a permanent gig on your new series. You owe me. You know I can handle any acting job, as good, if not better than any actress hanging around Hollywood.
“I don’t  know that. There are thousands of young women who are more serious about acting than you are and they are not driving their friends crazy with the get me a job conversations.” Elisabeth darted toward Stage 4.
“You’re a greedy selfish snob nosed bitch, Elisabeth Gooding,” Candy shouted as she returned Elisabeth’s wave, “But I love you.” Candy guessed she would be sitting on the uncomfortable steel chairs for the next ten years; waiting for Elisabeth Gooding to come through like she had promised. Ten more life sucking years. Ten more years of wishing Elisabeth Gooding would die, soon. She was tight with three of the writers. They could write her in so she was in the position to star when Elisabeth was found with her head crushed by a big rock that had rolled down Topanga Canyon like the signs warned, “Watch For Falling Rocks.”. Elisabeth’s beautiful face would be unrecognizable. And her perfect body would be all twisted and torn. A chill went up Candy’s spine and imbedded itself at the base of her brain; Her lips began to tremble, involuntarily.
Dancer Read, dressed all in black, with stark-black slick hair, reached over and touched Candy’s arm. “Candy,” she said, "are you okay? Why are you shaking and crying? What you thinking about that’s got you crying?"
Candy jumped up from the table." I'm so damn tired of sitting around waiting for Elisabeth. She's no better actor than anyone of us. We have all taken lessons from Burton Baker. The best. But Elisabeth is the only one getting jobs. I'm sick of it. This is my last year of just waiting around. I'm going to get a new manager. One as evil as Elisabeth's witch-mother. I think that to break into show business, you have to live in Hollywood and have an evil witch of a manager like Elisabeth has in her sucky mother."
Jason Hanks, a young man in baggy shorts, nodded his head but stayed silent.
“Elisabeth's mother is almost as sucky as mine.” Dancer said.
“Your mother is a goddess compared to Beth's.” Candy interrupted. “It's all about money with Miss Witch. But that’s what I need. My agent and my manager are both dweebs. They both think they have done their jobs if I’m seen in a half dozen high-end commercials a year.” Candy said. “Damned Elisabeth makes more money in a week than I make in a year. It’s not fair.”
A brand-new, silver Jag pulled to the curb. The driver's door opened exposing an expensive boot. A glass heart necklace dropped next to the boot. The glass heart cracked forming small fissures across the center of the heart. A perfect hand reached down and picked up the damaged necklace. Elisabeth Gooding, the beautiful, eighteen year old, star of a WB series, stepped from the expensive convertible. She had on a floppy hat and designer sunglasses. She examined the necklace closely. She shook her head. She walked with the necklace swinging from her fingers. Elisabeth walked to the table where her friends were seated. “Look what I did to my beautiful necklace.”
“You have hundreds of necklaces.” Dancer said.
“This one’s from my Grandma.”
“I've got a friend who fixes beautiful things.” Jason said.
Elisabeth handed Jason the necklace. “What you guys been doing?”
“Discussing who has the suckiest mother. You or Dancer?” He said.
“Her mother isn't on her case every minute of the day." Elisabeth said. "Her mother doesn't time their conversations with a constantly ticking pocket watch.”
“My mother never speaks to me. With or without a pocket watch. And what's up with that pocket watch, anyway?” Dancer asked.
“Moms won it for being the ‘Man of The Year’ or being ‘Woman of The Year’ or being Something of The Year. She's more like Witch of The Year. Or Years. She like checks the infamous watch every five minutes to stay on her ridiculous schedule. Or to keep me on my ridiculous schedule She's one big pain.”
“I'll take that pain any day. She got you that show. Movie parts. Made you famous.” Candy said.
“Lisabeth made herself famous.” Jason said. “She's a brilliant actress. And she's stunning looking.”
“We all know you love her. I'm just saying, if you're going to have a witch for a mother, she might as well be a witch who can get you a career in show business.” Candy said.
“Beth would have made it without Miss Witch?” Dancer said.
“I don't know, for sure. I take dance and voice and acting. I hated not being with my friends. But the Witch worked damned hard. Sometimes two jobs. And I loved the dancing and singing right from the start.”
“You would have made it without all that.” Jason said.
“No one makes it without all that. So, what you been doing, Jason?” Elisabeth said.
“He's been horizontal or playing video games.” Candy said. “To find him, you just go by the Game Box or any mattress store.”
Jason checked out the necklace that he rolled around in the palm of his hand. “Am I allowed to defend myself?”
“No, you've checked out of this life because you can't be with Elisabeth.”
“Dancer! Come on! We're just good friends.” Elisabeth said.
“Dancer's not right, often, but when she's right, she's right. Jason's a cork when you're not around.”
“What have you been doing?” Elisabeth looked over at Dancer.
“Waiting to critique your next show.”
“Me too. You’re the only game in town. The only one with a life.” Candy said.
“You guys are starting to tick me off.” She got up and then walked from the table. She got in her convertible and then sped away without waving goodbye to her stunned friends.
Elisabeth drove up and parked her car in front of an expensive house. She entered. Her ten year old sister T.J rushed to the entrance. “Where you been? Moms has been calling. Says you're not answering your cell. Some Doctor guy called like three times.”
Elisabeth walked to the hall table and sat down her purse and keys. “I hope you didn't tell mother.”
“About what?”
“About the Doctor.”
“Why shouldn't I? Travis get you PG or something?”
“No! I'm just not feeling well. I don't want mother to know.”
“You don't want her to know that you're taking care of yourself?”
“You know how she is. She'd just say I'm trying to sluff off. She'd check that stupid watch of her's and say, ‘It's time to go’ and.”
“Are you trying to sluff off?”
“No, T.J., I'm really sick. I have no energy. I can't breath.”
“So the Doctor is calling to say what's wrong?”
“I think I already know.”
“Don't do a ‘Miss Drama’ on me. You're not dying or something? You wouldn't do that to me. You wouldn't leave me alone with Moms, would you?”
“No sister would be that cruel.”
They walked toward each other and hugged.
“You’ll tell me what that Doctor says?”
“I will. But this conversation is just between sisters, okay?”
“Okay, but if Moms puts my feet to the coals, I'll rat you out.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
They hugged again.
 
Inside a plush office, Elisabeth's mother, Natasha, sat behind a desk and spoke into a phone. Elisabeth stood in front of the desk, waiting. Her mother, Natasha, had an open pocket watch in her hand. She kept checking the watch as she spoke into the phone. “You get those tickets by Monday or I'll make sure Elisabeth Gooding never does business with you again. Ever Again! You Hear Me!” She slammed the phone down.
“Mother! You're making me the most hated actress in this town.”
“I can make you what I want. I created you.”
Elisabeth moved closer to her mother. “I'm tired. I'm taking time off.”
“You don't take time off. I give you time off. It's sweeps week. No time for time off.” Natasha put the pocket watch on her desk.
“I'm taking off at the break. Going to Mexico or someplace.”
“No chance. I scheduled you for a Movie Of the Week.”
“I feel like crap.”
“You'll feel like crap if you blow all I've done for you.
“You should say 'Oh, darling, go get a checkup. Take your time. We can always get back to this business of making millions and millions of dollars.”
“You ungrateful little crumb-crusher. Now you're telling me when and where you're going to work?”
“I’m ill. I'm tired. For some reason you're unable to act like a mother. I no longer want you as my manager.” Elisabeth stepped toward the desk and swept the watch off onto the floor. And then she walked to the office door. As she exited, she slammed the door behind her.
Natasha scrambled around the desk and retrieved the watch. She checked it and put it in her pocket. She dialed the phone. “Arnie, I got problems. Elisabeth's gone crazy. I think she just fired me. She can't do that. I'll take legal action. She doesn't work in this town unless I'm her manager.”

Inside an acting studio, a drama teacher stood in front of a class. “Class, I have a surprise for you courtesy of Candy.. Welcome Elisabeth Gooding. Star of Wednesday's Child on the WB.”
Elisabeth and Candy entered. The class clapped and cheered. The Teacher pointed toward the stage. Elisabeth walked up the stage steps. “Thank you, Candy was kind enough to ask me to come down and watch you perform. This will be my take. It doesn't mean yours is wrong.”
Later, Elisabeth was on stage answering questions.
“Is Travis your boy friend away from the show?”
“I have a boy best friend. Jason. But we're just best friends, nothing else.”
“Do you go on secret dates?”
“No time. I work from 5:00 am to sometimes after midnight. All I want after that is sleep.”
“But you're making tons of money.
“Yes, I’m making tons of money.”
“Can I make tons of money?”
“You've already failed if you're in it for the money.” Elisabeth said.
“How do you find all those emotions at such a young age?”
“I figured early on that we're all in the same boat. If one human hurting all humans are hurting. You suffer, I suffer.”
“The tabloids say you're going to play a bad girl in a Movie Of the Week. I can not picture you as a bad girl.”
“Ah, the tabloids. I'm not doing that movie. But a good actress can play any part.
“If I played a bad girl, I'd be worried what my family and everyone would think.”
“See this necklace?” She held out the glass heart hanging from her aristocratic neck. “A gift from my Grandma. She was an actress. The necklace is called a ‘Glass Heart.’ I didn't want God to see me, as a bad child, in an Independent I was doing. Grandma said ‘You're an actress. God understands that you're only pretending to be bad. This Glass Heart reminds me that God can always see into my heart.’ An actress can play any part, and God will look into her heart and forgive her.”

Outside a pharmacy, Doctor Matt Voss walked from the pharmacy with a large envelope under his arm. He was dressed all in black. He held a drug vial in one hand. He saluted Elisabeth. Elisabeth leaned over a rail above the Doctor. She was dressed in a big, floppy hat and sunglasses.
“Doctor, thanks for meeting me here.”
He walked up the stairs and to the rail. “Last time, you were at the clinic, the Press stuck around for two weeks.”
“You bring the bad news? You're dressed like a Priest. Do I need a Priest, Doc?”
“I'm the last guy to suggest a Priest.”
“Remember, Doc, you said it would be the truth no matter what.”
“I've been at this ‘Death Watch’ for thirty years. Only twice have I begged and prayed to take my patient's place. The first was my daughter. I couldn't save her and I can't save you.”
“It's my heart, right, Doc? I can feel it.”
Doctor Voss pulled an X ray from a large envelope. He held it up so Elisabeth could see the large, dark patch in the center of the X ray. “Congenital heart disorder. It began before birth.”
“So it's my Witch mother's fault as usual.”
“Back then, Doctors were just learning that expectant mothers had to live without chemicals, drugs, or potent medications. It all endangered the fetus.”
“I should have known Moms would endanger the fetus.”
“Why the Hell couldn't you get a physical in the last three years?”
“Mother said. I couldn't leave the show. No time. I think she knew.”
“No mother's that cruel.”
“You've got to meet Moms. How long do I have?”
“Depends.”
“No ‘depends’ crap. The truth. You know within days, hours, minutes.”
“Could be days.”
“And if you operate?”
“Can't. It's what I call a ‘Glass Heart’. You need to tell your mother and father.”
Elisabeth lifted her necklace and looked at it quizzically. “My father’s never been in the picture. And Moms would just try to wring the last days out of me. Wring the last minutes of my life out of me.”

Inside an attorney’s office, Elisabeth sat with Candy.
“Your mother's well taken care of.” The attorney says. “She holds a five million dollar policy on you. Let’s decide what to do with the balance of your estate. Should Candy be here?”
“I want her to be Executrix of my Trust for T.J.”
“That position usually goes to the mother or father or someone in the family.”
“T.J. will have a zero life if mother controls the Trust. I want Candy to have control. She's always been able to stand up to my mother.”
“Can you Candy! Can you stand up to me?” Natasha entered the office.
Elisabeth jumped up. She swooned and sat back down. “What she doing here?”
“I called her,” the attorney said,
“This is a private meeting,” Elisabeth said.
“I'm sorry. Your mother is one of the most powerful women in this town. I could see my life flash before my eyes.”
Elisabeth and Candy both stood up. “This meeting's over.” Candy said.
“Sit down! This meeting's not over until I say it's over.” Natasha said.
Elisabeth and Candy move toward the door.
“If you walk out that door, you're finished in this town.”
Elisabeth and Candy exited.
Natasha walked over and took a seat. She took out her pocket watch and checked it. “Sit down, Ace. Figure some way to stop this.”
“There's no way.”
“There's got to be a way to stop her from throwing away eighty million dollars.”
“Eighty million dollars?”
“Eighty million! She'll give it to her friends or the Church or some God-awful thing.”
“You didn't know she's dying?”
“She's not dying. She’s just little ‘Miss Drama,’ regardless; we have to stop her from blowing eighty million dollars.
“If we could prove her incompetent.”
Natasha jumped up from her chair. “I knew I liked you.”
“I don't 1ike me.”

Inside Elisabeth’s dressing room, she talked to her makeup artist. “Word is that you and your mother are battling.”
“Sorta.”
“Is something wrong?” The makeup artist pulled the comb away from Elisabeth's head and examined the wisps of hair. “Elisabeth! You're loosing you hair! Something's dreadfully wrong!”
Elisabeth turned and brought the makeup artist close to her and whispered. “Don't tell anyone!”
“You know I won't.”
Travis Taylor entered. “Tell who, what?”
“Travis, it's none of your business.”
“Okay, Slugger. I don't want to know. But I want to meet you later. Just want to talk.”
“Such a serious face, from you? Must be important. At the riding trails later?”
“Good. See you at the afternoon break.” Travis exited.
He bumped into a process server as the process server entered. “Miss Elisabeth Gooding!” He handed Elisabeth legal papers.

Travis and Elisabeth walked slowly along the trail. Travis reached out and took Elisabeth's hand. “Okay, Slugger, what's the trouble between you and the Witch?”
“I fired her. But she had me served with this.” She handed him the Notice.
He speed-read the Notice. “I was going to tell you to give in. My mother pretty much struck out my career when I attempted to replace her. But your mother, the Witch, has taken the Stage Mother Psychosis to a new level. She's going to try to prove you incompetent.”
“She's can try.”
Travis took her hand again and they continued to walk. “Slugger, you haven't got a chance. The Judge is going to figure you're just a beautiful child with too much money.”
“Do you think I'm just a beautiful child with too much money?”
“I think you're one special chick.”
Elisabeth stopped but continued to hold Travis' hand. “Special chick? How about intelligent, charming?”
“Are you making a pass at me?”
“Maybe?”
“Elisabeth, if I wasn't such a scoundrel, I would have whisk you off the minute you turned eighteen.”
“I would have gone.”
“The Witch would have put a contract out on me.”
“That could be her next move on me.”
“Make it easy on yourself. Just give in. She's Evil. And Evil always wins.”
“I don't believe that. In my world, Evil never wins.”
“Your world is fantasy. Like the Dodgers beating the Yankees.” He pulled her toward him and kissed her forehead.

Inside the hearing room at Judge Walker’s court, Ace, Natasha, Elisabeth, and her attorney, Barbara Tate, sat across from Judge Walker. Natasha's pocket watch was lying open, in front of her, on the table.
“Your mother has pretty much been managing your life. A very successful life, I must say. Why attempt this change?” The Judge said.
“I have no life.”
“No life! You spoiled brat. Your face is on the cover of every major magazine,” her mother said, “you can pick and choose projects.”
“I'm dying! Mother.”
“Your Honor, this scheming little brat will say anything to get her way.”
“Your Honor,” Barbara Tate said. “I have medical proof that my client may have less than thirty days to live.”
Natasha didn’t flinch at the news. “Your Honor, Barbara Tate has a reputation of exploiting young starlets. She's probably sleeping with her. She can get a Doctor to say anything. Thirty days go by and Elisabeth's still around, it's too late if you've already made a decision that devastates my life. Managing Elisabeth is my only income.”
“Let me see the X rays,” Barbara handed the Judge the envelope. The Judge extracted the X rays and held one up to the light. “Who's the Doctor?”
“Doctor Matt Voss.”
“He's a quack. Five years ago he diagnosed Elisabeth with a kidney disease. It was bull crap.”
“Are there any other medical opinions?
“Yes, your Honor. Here are opinions from three other Board Certified Physicians. She handed the Judge the letters.
He handed copies to Ace. Natasha stared at Elisabeth. Elisabeth looked away.
“Elisabeth, you understand this is a Competency Hearing, these documents backup your mother's petition. In your state of health, you're not in a position to make million-dollar decisions. I wouldn't nominate her for Mother of the Year. But your mother's been a darn good manager. Unless you have additional arguments, I'm going have to approve the petition.”
“Your Honor, Elisabeth understands that her health would affect her competency. She will stipulate to being incompetent as long as you appoint me as Trustee of her estate. An estate which is outlined in this Will.” She handed the Will to the Judge and a copy to Ace.
Natasha snatched Ace's copy. She read it. Wadded it up, and then threw the wad at the Judge, grabed her pocket watch from the table, and stormed from the hearing room.
“Your Honor, please forgive my client I'm sure you understand she's in shock. She's reacting to the news of her daughter's health. She only wants what's good for Elisabeth and the cast and crew of Wednesday's Child. If Elisabeth takes the next thirty days off, it will devastate the show. It's Sweeps Week.”
“So, you and your client, Elisabeth's mother, you're asking me to force Elisabeth to return to work even though she's dying?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“You and your client are both pond scum.”
“Your Honor, he's right. I need to be written out of the show. I can do a couple more weeks.”

In the studio hallway, Elisabeth was on her cell phone. She spoke softly, “But I don't understand, Doc.”
It's radical. But there's a chance. It involves lasers and drugs and open heart surgery.
“What are the odds?”
"Fifty fifty. But it's illegal in the States. We have to go to Mexico.”
“When?”
“I’ll pick you up tonight at your house.”

Inside the writers’ room, three writers, a producer, a director, and Elisabeth sat at a long table. Elisabeth stood and paced. She swooned but recovered. The director and producer stood and moved to the shadows. “And that's about it. So we need to write me out of the show.”
“We can't exploit your death, Elisabeth.”
“It would be the highest rated show in Sweeps Week history," Elisabeth said.
“The public would never forgive us.”
“She could go off to college or something.”
“That would be too choppy. The audience wouldn't buy it.”
“I know what they would buy.” Elisabeth said. “What they've been waiting for.”
“You and Travis.”
“Me and Travis. You always show us on the beach. We could marry on the beach. It'd be a blockbuster. When I'm gone, it'd get heavy syndication.”
“You sound like your mother.”
“God help me.”
Natasha entered, she closed a wet umbrella and brushed rain drops from her shoulders. T.J. followed in a yellow slicker and rain hat. “Hope that's a complement. I'm going to need lots of complements. You write Elisabeth out of the show, the law suit will close this studio.”
“Mother! I want to do something to try to insure the show will survive when I'm gone.”
“Your not going to be gone. It's not in the cards.” She took her watch out. Checked the time. Put it back in her pocket.
“Mother!”
“Sit down and shut up!” She rushed Elisabeth and pushed her. Elisabeth fell into a light stand. The light crashed to the floor and exploded.
Elisabeth got up and limped from the stage.
Natasha turned to the writers. “Now! Write! Twenty-two more shows!” She exited.
Natasha lead T.J. down the hallway. T.J. tried to pull away. “I'm going after Beath!”
“You're coming home with me!”
T.J. twisted away from her mother and darted down the hall and exited.

Rain poured down on Elisabeth huddled in a fetal position against a rough, brick wall. Her thin dress was soaked through. T.J ran up and plopped down next to Elisabeth. She placed Elisabeth head on her lap. “Elisabeth! Don't die!” T.J. started to get up.
“Stay with me. Take this necklace. Remember me.”


The Glass Heart necklace swung back and forth on Elisabeth's neck as T.J. rocked her back and forth.

Standing at the corner of the building, with rain hammering at her umbrella, Natasha pulled the pocket watch from her coat. She checked the time. And then she threw the watch against the studio wall. The watch crashed against the wall. Natasha moved toward her daughters, T.J. and Elisabeth.

The end

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