Marilyn's Ghost Read online

  “I know, Marilyn, that’s clear to me. Just like WiIl Smith said: If you are absent during my struggle, don’t expect to be present in my success.”

  “Wonderful phrase. Who is Will Smith, dear?”

  Pam laughed and decided it was time to see some more modern films. So they sat down to watch The Pursuit of Happyness, which shook Marilyn and made her cry with emotion.

  Pam was happy. Her life had changed very positively in a matter of a month and a half, obtaining what she never thought she would. Everything was happening at breakneck speed, but finally her bad luck had come to an end, or at least it seemed. It was as if she had been touched by a magic wand, and it was all thanks to her, to Marilyn, her godmother, her angel. But she also had a lot to thank destiny for, as Richard had appeared in her life. Without him, she would still be reliant on the webpage she sold her photographs on at a good rhythm, to fill her fridge and pay the rent.

  Pam met the woman that would be her companion in the film, the day her blond hair turned brown and the first words of the well-known actress were…

  “You’re so beautiful with brown hair!” Marion Cotillard said with a gleaming smile. She wore no makeup and was stunning. She shone with her own light, the type of light Pam had always wanted for herself. What she didn’t know was that she had always had it, and Marilyn was trying everyday to make it show.

  Marilyn shook her head. She missed Pam’s blonde hair, that due to demands of the script and of her character had to change.

  “As soon as the filming ends, get rid of that black. It makes you look much older,” Marilyn advised. “You know what? I’m looking forward to go back to a movie set, to go back to being surrounded by cameras and lights…”

  “I can assure you I am too,” Pam laughed.

  “And you know what else?” Pam arched an eyebrow at her. “Those cameras won’t be focused on me, those lights won’t be shining on me and no one will be pursuing me.”

  “Didn’t you like it, Marilyn? I mean when you were alive…”

  “I’ve been dead for so long, invisible for so much time, that I don’t mind. I’m happy for you, Pam. This is only the beginning, you still have such a long path to travel…”

  “It scares me a little, Marilyn.”

  “Why, dear?”

  “It scares me that this is too much for me, that I’m not prepared for these cameras and lights…”

  “For that you are prepared, Pam. But not yet for fame, sweetie.”

  “Fame? I hadn’t even thought about that.”

  “Fame is a torment. It means not being able to leave home without being accosted by a paparazzi or an admirer. It means not being able to be yourself and playing a constant part.”

  “A part?”

  “What do you think I was, Pam? Just a fictitious character of the film industry. A puppet moved by strings to where was most suited. Never loose you freedom, nor the meaning of that word. If one day you see that you are being overwhelmed, then flee far. For a while at least. Keep your soul free and sane, Pam. Don’t let anyone poison your soul…”

  Pam listened to each of Marilyn’s words and took them as valuable information that she would recall for the rest of her life.

  Still with her uncomfortable cast, Pam begged the young doctor that she needed to get rid of it as soon as she could. After several x-rays they saw it would be possible, even though she would have to have to go to rehabilitation once a week for at least several months. Pam agreed and nodded, cursing once more the uncivil citizen that had left a banana skin on the ground, and cursing her old bad luck for falling on it and breaking her arm. When the cast was taken off, it itched terribly. She could move it, but with much difficulty and that worried her.

  “It’s normal,” the doctor said. “Does it hurt?”

  “A bit…”

  “Don’t make any sudden movements, don’t carry any weight and keep taking the medication if it hurts.”

  Pam nodded and promised to do so. At least she could now scratch herself when she felt like it without needed to feed a stick underneath the uncomfortable and thick cast she had to wear for almost two months. Two hours later, Pam and her freed arm exited onto the street. She had a date with Richard. That was what she would have liked. In reality, it was a meeting in a diner close to the hospital, to talk about future projects that were starting up.

  “Finally cast-free! Nice arm,” Richard laughed. “I never asked you what happened.”

  “I slipped on a banana skin that someone had thrown on the ground when I left my house,” Pam answered, embarrassed.

  “What bad luck! Well, it’s done now. Does it hurt?”

  “A little.”

  “How is the script going?”

  “Great. Rehearsals have been going well and Karl is a dear.”

  “And Marion?”

  “She’s a great co-worker. If two months ago, someone had told me I would be working with her… It’s a dream, Richard.”

  “I know but focus on what is really important, Pam. Keep your feet on the ground, okay?” Pam nodded, seeing Marilyn’s words in what Richard was saying, although she was home watching a film of Will Smith’s, of whom she had become a fervent admirer. “I’ve negotiated another movie. You’ll have a short but fundamental role in it. Isabella Lee is directing it, do you know her?”

  “Yes, she directed that romantic comedy… What was it called?”

  “Mad Love,” Richard answered, winking.

  Pam blushed. Secretly loving her agent was mad love, the young woman thought.

  “Karl showed her your audition and she liked it a lot. The story is about a young man that looses his girlfriend in a car accident. You will be the girlfriend and you have a few appearance, you’ll be throughout the film through photographs. The scene of the accident and a few more sequences with the main character though memories. It’s not a huge role but it would be great for you to be in this movie. It’s called Moments.”

  “Who is playing the main character?” Pam asked, interested.

  “Robert Pattinson, the vampire,” Richard laughed. Pam blushed even more, not admitting that she had been obsessed with the Twilight saga and with its pale protagonist for a while.

  “It starts shooting in three weeks.”

  “What would I do without you,” Pam sighed. “And without Marilyn,” she thought.

  “Absolutely nothing! I’m glad our paths crossed, Pam. And I’m glad to have met you, for having known how to see, not just to look. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I think so.”

  “Every day I get emailed hundreds of photographs, CVs and videos of young actors who want to succeed, and who want me to be their agent. It’s a great honor but not everyone can see what I see in you. You could have disappeared in my inbox, of course, there are days that I delete emails without even opening them. But it was different with you. You know who you remind me of?”

  “Who?”

  “Marilyn Monroe.” Pam laughed. “Have you never been told that you pose like her?”

  “You think?”

  Pam remembered the photo session. She remembered Marilyn was the one who had told her which poses made her look best and above all what to do with her hands, that almost always got in her way. Marilyn and her experience in front of camera had been the reason she had dazzled Richard.

  “It’s an honor to hear you say that,” Pam continued.

  “Well, I hope you don’t end up like Marilyn,” Richard sighed.

  “Well, having you I surely won’t.”

  Silence and uncomfortable and strange silence. Glances. A smile and a few sighs. Was this love? Pam asked herself looking fixedly at Richard.

  “Well, Pam. I will go visit you someday on set. I don’t know if I’ll have much time, you know you’re not the only actress I represent.” A nervous laugh she had not yet heard took over the agent.

  “Yes, of course. I understand.”

  “I don’t want to bother you.”

  “You won’t.”
Pam smiled sweetly. “I feel safe with you, as if nothing bad could happen to me.”

  “That’s what we agents are for, Pam. To protect young stars, although unfortunately we aren’t all like this.”

  “What is Hollywood hiding, Richard. I mean…”

  “Yes, yes, yes, I know what you mean.” Richard thought for a few seconds. He weighed his response carefully and finally opted for the easy path. He told her about the case of a young actress that had ruined her life by not keeping her feet on the ground and wanting to fly too high. “Let’s say the protagonist of the story I’m going to tell you is called Laura. Were talking about the seventies. Laura was twenty, she was stunning and dreamt of being an actress, like so many other young women that come to Hollywood with their suitcase full of dreams and delusions. She was ready to do anything to get it, but she fell in bad hands. She chose an agent that got her jobs and fortune by prostituting her. Producers, directors, Laura went through the offices of some of the most important men in Hollywood industry. Everyone wanted her in their films, paparazzi fought to get the best photograph, that they would then sell to the most important magazines and she was a great attraction at the most exclusive parties of the time. She had achieved her dream of being an actress, being rich and famous. But she became a miserable being whose life was a lie. When she looked in the mirror, she was disgusted when she remembered everything she had done to get there. She had sold her soul to the devil and her mind fell ill. She married a famous Hollywood actor she did not love and who in reality was homosexual, just to continue appearing on the front pages of the gossip press.”

  “And what happened?” Pam asked, worried, seeing pain in Richard’s words.

  “She killed herself,” Richard answered seriously. The cast his gaze down bitterly. Pam could see a small tear fall down the agent’s cheek.

  “And ‘Laura’ was…”

  “My mother.”

  “I understand, Richard.”

  “That’s why I became an agent, Pam. So that no other actress would end up like her. Nowadays it doesn’t happen so much, but it still does. Innocence continues to exist and so do perturbed and influential minds. That is the dark part of Hollywood we must avoid at all costs. We have to be very careful. That’s what I became so furious when I heard what Matt suggest…”

  “Forget it Richard,” Pam interrupted, putting her hand on Richard’s strong shoulder, who that day had chosen a celestial blue shirt that matched his spectacular almond-shaped eyes of the same color. It suited him, with his athletic body and tanned skin.

  Instinctively, Pam slid her finger on the agent’s cheek to remove the tear that was still trailing down his three-day-old beard. That moment seemed to have been forgotten when they said goodbye with a “See you at the shoot,” accompanied by Richard’s usual and irresistible wink.

  Pam got home and had a panic attack thinking that in a few hours, a production car would come get here to start the filming of the movie Toward the Light. Pam’s scenes would be shot in only seven days, as she was only a secondary character in the story, not the main one. Even so, nerves took her down the road of bitterness, she asked herself is she was really ready for everything that was approaching.

  “Which film are you watching?” she asked Marilyn, opening a kitchen cupboard to make herself a lime blossom tea to calm her nerves.

  “Seven Pounds. What a film!” Marilyn commented, emotional.

  “I’ve seen it three times. It’s very sad.”

  “Will Smith is a great actor, I’d love to meet him.”

  “He seems like a nice guy,” Pam answered, chagrined.

  “What’s up, Pam?”

  Panel recalled the intimate moment she had lived with her agent, but decided to not tell Marilyn. If she had done, the diva would have not stopped talking about Richard all night and what she least wanted was to continue remembering him. No, she couldn’t, not with her agent. Richard would be suited to a woman his own age, a sophisticated woman in her thirties like him, not a young thing that was starting to spread her wings of only twenty-four and with her whole life ahead of her and much to try.

  “Tomorrow at seven in the morning, the production car is coming to get me…. the shoot is starting.”

  “Coming to get us! I’m going with you, I will be with you at all times. Don’t worry about anything, it will al be okay,” Marilyn encouraged her, without taking her eyes off Will Smith, submerged in a bath of ice. Marilyn put her hands over her mouth when she saw his intentions…

  “Marilyn, change the film. You should watch Hitch, it’s less depressing.”

  “Hitch? Who comes up with these titles? Good gracious!” Marilyn sighed, still impacted by the scene she had just seen.

  “I think I’m going to go to sleep,” Pam said, taking a sip of her tea and looking at her cellphone.

  “Yes, sleep, sleep. Its that best thing for the complexion and tomorrow you have to look amazing.”

  “Well, they want to see me looking gaunt, so it doesn’t matter too much…”

  “Gaunt? Why? That doesn’t sell.”

  “Yes, yes it does sell. Luckily in some films they value acting more than looks.”

  “Since when?” Marilyn asked, confused. Pam shrugged her shoulders.

  “Charlize Theron won an Oscar when they made her look ugly in the movie Monster.”

  “Who is Charlize Theron?”

  “It doesn’t matter Marilyn, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Pam answered, tired and moving toward her bedroom.

  “These young people nowadays,” Marilyn said to herself. “They don’t know what they want. They don’t know, Will! No, please don’t do that…”

  Marilyn covered her eyes and decided to follow Pam’s advice. Minutes later, she entertained herself with Hitch, lacking such dramatic scenes that could traumatize the spirit.

  Marilyn could see herself in Pam. The nerves of her first day, the fear of forgetting the script, the sluggishness and the sleepiness for having been up so late and above all, the uncertainty of an unknown and intense say of filming.

  The driver arrived at seven on the dot and waited in front of the ugly building where Pam lived. He greeted her amiably, without suspecting that she was in the company of Marilyn Monroe herself and took them to the famous and grand Warner studios. Pam’s heart skipped a beat, seeing herself surrounded by sets she had only seen in documentaries. Although it was only a little after seven in the morning, frantic activity could already be seen in the streets of the mythical cinematographic compound, where hundreds of movies had been filmed.

  “Such memories!” Marilyn exclaimed when she stepped out of the car.

  An assistant of an assistant of an assistant of one of the production bosses welcomed Pam and led her to her dressing room. Pam, still not believing the exquisite treatment she was receiving, headed to her dressing room with a hot milky coffee she had just been given, where a great bouquet of flowers was waiting for her.

  “Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Enjoy the moment.

  Fondly,

  Richard”

  Pam enjoyed the aroma of the flowers for a moment, with Richard on her mind. She wanted to see him, to listen to his voice, to be in his company, and to live another intimate moment although it seemed strange.

  “Well, well, in my time agents didn’t send flowers,” Marilyn said coquettish.

  “That’s not normal?”

  “I don’t think so, dear,” Marilyn whispered. “Enjoy the shooting Pam. You have a great opportunity, don’t waste it. And don’t be tense, relax….”

  “Yes, Marilyn,” Pam agreed, looking at the flowers with melancholy.

  The makeup artist arrived after a while, apologizing for her tardiness. Brenda put Pam in character, just as the director had indicated days before: hollow-eyed with unkept hair and a few wrinkles, to look more depressing. When she looked in the mirror she thought she looked awful, she had suddenly aged twenty years.

  “You look terrible, dear,” Marilyn sa
id sincerely.

  The worst moment for Pam was when she saw Marion Cotillard looking splendid, with luminous makeup that had little to do with a dying woman.

  “I know what is happening here…” Marilyn murmured. Pam looked at her expectantly, wanting to listen to her. “They don’t want you to stand out. Marion is the star, the main character, you can’t cast a shadow over her.”

  Pam did not answer. Too many people around her could think that the actress was crazy when they saw her talking to herself. Marilyn seemed upset and angry. Pam decided to go along with it as her dream of finally being in a big movie production was coming true. But even so, she was annoyed and she knew that Marilyn was right. It hurt, a little. The set was gloomy. For the movie they had built an austere house, with few and simple pieces of furniture that characterized a poor family of the thirties. Marion sat in a chair and closed her eyes, until the production boss asked if she was ready. The French actress nodded and without loosing concentration headed towards the bed. First take. Marian sick, coughing, sad, crying. Second take. Excellent, they had it. Pam waited silently in a corner, until the assistant of the assistant of the assistant of the production boss came to get her. Her moment arrived half an hour later. She sat on a corner of the bed, where Marion was laid already with tears in her eyes previously prepared, she focused on the script and he moribund character ready to start for when Karl, the director, would say ACTION. She felt an adrenaline rush, which Pam enjoyed for the first time.

  “Promise me, promise me you’ll look after him,” Marion began to say, fully submerged in her role and breaking away from the candid and joyful French woman Pam knew.

  “I promise , Betty. Tommy will be safe with me, and you will always be in his heart. We will look to the sky and you will the star that shines brightest in the night.”

  “Thank you, cousin,” Marion coughed. “Can I ask for one last favor?”

  “Of course, Betty, Anything.”

  “Find Jack, Jack is…”

  “Don’t speak, Betty, rest…”

  “Jack is the key, Jack is…”

  Marion closed her eyes, Pam cried for a few minutes that seemed eternal until the director said the famous word…