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“You mean it’s already shot?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Peter, did anyone help you write this?”
“Well, I had a faculty adviser, but he wasn’t much help. He was a music teacher.”
She smiled. “I see. I was going to ask you if you knew exactly what a film director does, but you obviously do. Why Knickerbocker?”
“I’ve read about the program, and I think it suits what I want to do very well.”
“Tell me what you want to do, beyond directing.”
“I want to learn to work with actors and direct theater.”
“And how do you propose to learn to work with actors?”
“By becoming an actor myself,” Peter replied. “My role model is Elia Kazan.”
“Ah, yes, Gadge,” she said. “That was his nickname, but he didn’t like it. I didn’t know that until I read his autobiography. Have you read it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Peter replied. “Twice.”
“I see. And what do you want to do after graduation from Knickerbocker?”
“I want to go to the Yale School of Drama,” Peter replied, “for the same reasons I want to go to Knickerbocker.”
“Peter, I’ve no doubt that you would fit in perfectly at Knickerbocker,” she said. She picked up a folder and handed it to him. “This is an application. Please fill it out and return it to me with a copy of your birth certificate and your transcript from your previous school.”
Peter handed her the documents. “I have those right here,” he said. “May I fill out the application now?”
She laughed again. “Yes, you go right ahead. Do you have a pen?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Peter said.
“I’m going to give you a few minutes to
complete the application, and then I’ll come back,” she said, rising.
Peter stood with her, and she left. He opened the folder and began to fill in the blanks.
Letitia Covington went into her study, sat down at her desk, picked up the phone and dialed the number of the headmaster of Knickerbocker Hall, who lived on the floor below her. “Arthur,” she said, “it’s Letitia.”
“Good afternoon, Letitia. How did you know to find me at home?”
“Because I know what a lazy old fart you are, and that you often leave school early.”
“I come home to do paperwork,” he protested. “They won’t leave me alone if I’m at school.”
“I want you to come up here right now,” she said.
He laughed. “What’s up, Letitia?”
“I have a candidate for you, sitting on my living room sofa, filling out his application, right now.”
“Letitia, you know we have a waiting list.”
“You’re going to forget all about that when you meet him,” she said. “Now get your ass up here!” She hung up and went back to the living room.
