And – Scene

Day 4: “It must have been great fun to make love to me.” – Marie Dressler, Academy Award winner

Until today I didn’t know who Marie Dressler was, but I looked her up and found out that she was a comedian and an actor that survived from vaudeville and theater to movies and was one of the biggest box office draws during her time. I’m not going to write about that, though. Instead, I’ve taken that quote and created a fictional scene:

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Marie’s hand gripped the doorknob so tightly her arm shook from her white knuckles to her dimpled shoulder. “How dare you!” she shouted. “How could you, after I gave you everything. I made you.”

“You? Made me? That’s a delightful thought, my dear, but incredibly arrogant, wouldn’t you say?” Charlie leaned back into the settee and crossed his leg, plucking imaginary bits of fluff from his creased pants. “You did get me my first part darling, and I do appreciate it ever so much, but the rest was all me.”

“All you? All you?! Now that’s a laugh. All you and that skinny little tramp, that bag of bones who dares to call herself a director. Ha! She couldn’t direct a traffic stop on a one-way street!”

“Now, now, that’s just catty.”

“It’s the truth and you know it. Her poor sap of a husband just gives her the money to make whatever trash she sees fit. I should have known from the first movie you made with her that you were just another one of her toys.”

Charlie leapt from the couch and grabbed her arm, digging his fingers into her soft flesh. “You don’t own me, Marie, you never did. You were a great roll in the hay and a laugh to be around, but that’s it.”

“Oh, it must have been great fun to make love to me,” she cried. “Great fun. Well, it’s not fun any more, so just go.” Marie pried his hand from her arm and perched on the chair at her dressing table. As she dabbed at the mascara running streaks down her caked, wrinkled face she didn’t see her faded hair, her drab neckline, the costume jewelry missing stones here and there. She saw what millions saw on the big screen. And then the image faded, replaced by reality.

The door clicked softly and Marie wept.

This is Day 4 of my attempt to write a blog post for every day of the year, prompted by “Wild Words from Wild Women“.