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Renny moved on, and I am sure the rest of his show was every bit as funny and filled with savage insight, but I did not notice. I was lost in a train of thought that took me far away down the tracks, and I would not have noticed if Renny set himself on fire.
At first I merely thought about the fact that Renny was a monster, just like me. But that led me on to thoughts that were far loftier, and much more to the point. Because Renny had a Passenger. I didn’t know how he managed its care and feeding, but he had one. And if he could survive, and even flourish in Hollywood … why couldn’t I?
I pictured it in my imagination: Dexter lounging by the pool in Bel Air, watching the shadows grow deeper as the sun drifted down into the Pacific Ocean and a slow fat moon began to creep up into the sky, and Dexter feels the old Happy Night thrill begin to take him over, and he rises from his poolside perch and with his customary care he pads into the large and airy house on his predator’s feet and reaches for his ready-packed bag of toys and tools and away he slides into a night that is just as dark and welcoming, no matter that the sun sets, instead of rises, in the water.
It could work. There was no reason it shouldn’t. And I could not shake the idea that I would be far happier on that western shore, in a land of new opportunity, a fresh panorama of unexplored darkness.
But of course … I had not actually been invited. And there was no reason to think I would be. Jackie certainly had her own life in California, with her own friends and routines and security measures, and aside from one quick kiss, she had given me no indication that I would ever be a part of that life. If I was logical about things, I had to admit that mos
t probably, when the pilot was finished shooting here, she would thank me, hug me, and return to the West Coast, leaving Dexter behind as no more than an occasional fond memory.
And no matter how much I wanted it to be more than that, I couldn’t make that happen, and I couldn’t even say what that “more” would be.
So as Renny’s performance wound on to its no doubt hilarious conclusion, it was a somewhat Disheartened Dexter who finally came back to his grumpy senses as he realized that everyone around him was leaping to their feet and applauding madly. And because the First Principle of the Harry Code is to fit in, Dexter stood and clapped, too.
Rita stood next to me, clapping with manic enthusiasm. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and a very big smile was plastered on her face, a smile like I had never seen before, joy and thrill mixed together with excitement. She looked ecstatic, as if she had just gotten a glimpse into a world of magical beauty. I am sure the show was enjoyable, but Rita seemed transported to another plane. I had sat beside her on the couch and watched TV with her every night for years, and never suspected that the world of entertainment and its denizens were so important and enthralling to her. I couldn’t imagine how anyone with a three-digit IQ could possibly be so mesmerized—but of course, I knew Renny and Robert much better than she did.
And when the applause finally trickled to a halt, she still stood there, staring at the stage, as if she was looking at a spot where a miracle had just happened. It wasn’t until Robert tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Hey, Dex—I gotta get going,” that she finally stopped beaming at the empty stage and went back into shock.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh my— Dexter, Mr. Chase is …” And she collapsed into silence, blinking and blushing.
“Just Robert,” he said, predictably, and he smiled at her. “And can I call you, uh …?”
“Rita,” I told him.
“Rita. Right! Well, hey, Rita, you got a great guy here.” He clapped me on the shoulder to show how much he approved of me. “You’d better hang on to him,” he said. He winked at her, and put a hand on her upper arm. “You let him hang out with these Hollywood types, and they may try to steal him.”
Rita turned even redder. “Thank you, Mr. aahh, I mean Robert, I—oh,” she said. She put the knuckles of her right hand into her mouth, as if she’d said something awful and wanted to punish her teeth.
Robert didn’t seem to notice. He just squeezed her arm and said, “My pleasure. Great to meet you, Rita.” He gave her arm another squeeze, and looked at me. And then, with annoying inevitability, he shot me with his finger-gun again, and said, “See you Monday, partner.” He pushed past us and walked away up the aisle. Rita watched him go, knuckles still in her mouth. “Oh, my God,” she said.
I glanced around. Jackie was standing at her seat with Debs, but she was looking at me, and I was suddenly very tired of Rita’s worshipful blathering over Robert. “Come on,” I said. “I’ll walk you out to your car.” And to my complete surprise, she threw her arms around me and gave me a crushing hug, accompanied by a series of wet kisses on my face.
“Oh, Dexter, thank you,” she said. “This has been the most amazing— To see Robert Chase, and actually talk to him …!” she said into my ear, and she planted another damp kiss on me. “And Renny Boudreaux was wonderful—I mean, the language was a bit rough. But seriously—thank you. Thank you so much for this.”
It seemed like a bit much; the tickets hadn’t cost me anything, and I had been ordered to show up with Rita. But I just said, “You’re welcome,” and pried myself out of her embrace. “Where did you park?”
“Oh,” she said, “just a couple of blocks away—at the hotel?”
“All right,” I said, and I tried to steer her out. But apparently she wasn’t finished yet.
“I really— I mean it. Thank you, Dexter; this has been so, just, like a dream,” she said.
There was more, and I just kept nodding and smiling, and finally she wore down and I got her moving up the aisle toward the lobby and out the door at last and into the bright downtown Miami night.
I walked her to the parking garage, listening to her recap of the show, telling me Renny’s best lines—all of which I had, after all, just heard myself. But she took great delight in repeating them, and eventually I tuned her out altogether until we arrived at her car.
“Good night,” I said, and I opened the car door for her. She leaned forward and kissed my cheek again.
“Thank you so much, Dexter,” she said. “It really was wonderful—and when will you come home?”
“Just a few more days,” I said, and I’m pretty sure I kept the regret out of my voice.
“All right,” she said. “Well …” And I began to think she would stand there in the open door of her car until she was struck by lightning. So I planted a peck on her cheek.
“Good night,” I said. “I’ll see you soon.” And I took a step backward to give her enough room to close the car’s door, with her on the inside. She blinked at me for a moment, and then she smiled.
“Good night, Dexter,” she said. And she got into the front seat, started the car, and drove away. And I went back to find Jackie, thinking I might as well enjoy myself now.
