Charming Grace Read Online Free
as I thought.”
The laurel rattled some more. The deep voice of a laurel-entrapped, enraged movie star roared out, “ Noleene, goddammit . This was your idea.”
Noleene studied me with what appeared to be both admiration and a deep desire to take my empty gun away and spank me. “Next time, just shoot me.” Noleene’s backroads-been-there face shifted into some semblance of a smile, parting his lips like a slow zipper over a sliver of ferocious white teeth. “I better go before he gets a twig stuck in a spot twigs don’t belong.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him quietly. “For your sake.”
“I can go a long way on that. Thanks.”
“Noleene ! If she hasn’t clubbed you with a rock you better be on your way down here!”
“ Au revoir , Mrs. Vance.” Leaving that hint of deep-fried French perfume on his resume, he squared his shoulders, turned away, and went to pry Br’er Rabbit Senterra out of a mountain briar patch. The tabloid photographers climbed down from their trees, shrank back at the menacing look Noleene gave them, then toasted each other with a high-five. Next week everyone with a buck-fifty to invest would see photos of the world’s biggest macho action star doing a backward belly-flop in a haze of shotgun-induced terror, courtesy of yours truly and Boone Noleene, a brave man caught up in bad circumstances, who appeared to expect better of me but would tolerate worse.
You did wrong by that bodyguard , Harp whispered to me. Now, he was talking.
I picked up Dancer and cradled her to my breasts. Without much victory I whispered, “I know. But all’s fair in love and movies.”
HERO
DIRECTOR’S NOTES AND SCRIPT
CLASSIFIED PROPERTY—STONE SENTERRA
I MEAN IT! STAY OUT OF MY COMPUTER AND STOP TRYING
TO STEAL THIS SCRIPT, WHOEVER YOU ARE!
SCENE: DEEP MOUNTAIN WOODS, SPRINGTIME
Ten-year-old Grace Bagshaw, late-1970’s, a beautiful and well-dressed little girl, clutches her Farrah Fawcett knapsack as she hikes nervously through the wilderness and stops to peer through tall mountain laurel down into a beautiful glen.
GRACE
(talking aloud to herself)
This is it! Ladyslipper Lost! This is where my mother and daddy were hiking ten years ago when I was born! I was born right here! And this is where Grandmother Helen comes to find the secret flowers for her greenhouse!
TAKES A FEW STEPS FARTHER DOWN THE HILL. LOOKS AGAIN. GASPS.
Oh my.
Pan to bigger view of glen. Now she sees hundreds of pink ladyslipper orchids in bloom.
GRACE (CONT’D)
(awed)
This is it. The home of the ladyslippers. Look at them! Just look! Harper Vance has to be hiding here. It’s a magic place, just like Grandma Helen said.
(Calls loudly.)
Harper Vance! Harper Vance, are you in these caves around this magic hollow somewhere? I’ve come to save you, Harper Vance! I know you’re still alive! Please, Harper Vance, don’t run away again! I’m not just a rich little girl from a family who never pays attention to poor boys like you! I’m lonely and noble—just like you! And I’ve come to rescue you!”
Silence. Holding her knapsack tighter, Grace sniffs back tears and continues down the hill toward the glen filled with rare orchids.
END EXCERPT
Chapter 2
Look, all I really wanted that day was credit for finding Harp’s wormy corpse. I thought of him as the loneliest soul in the universe, next to me. Finding his rotting carcass would prove, in some strange way, that loneliness couldn’t hurt me anymore. After all, I had been born in the very spot where he was, most likely, dead.
“Harper Vance,” I yelled in the deep shade of a forest older than all Bagshaws combined. “If you’re alive you better say so, and if you’re not alive then don’t you dare haunt these woods! Because I was born in these woods and these woods belong to me and my dead mother, Willy Bagshaw, who fell over from a blood clot at Ladyslipper Lost, and so if you’re dead here it’s because she wants you here !” I
The laurel rattled some more. The deep voice of a laurel-entrapped, enraged movie star roared out, “ Noleene, goddammit . This was your idea.”
Noleene studied me with what appeared to be both admiration and a deep desire to take my empty gun away and spank me. “Next time, just shoot me.” Noleene’s backroads-been-there face shifted into some semblance of a smile, parting his lips like a slow zipper over a sliver of ferocious white teeth. “I better go before he gets a twig stuck in a spot twigs don’t belong.”
“I’m sorry,” I told him quietly. “For your sake.”
“I can go a long way on that. Thanks.”
“Noleene ! If she hasn’t clubbed you with a rock you better be on your way down here!”
“ Au revoir , Mrs. Vance.” Leaving that hint of deep-fried French perfume on his resume, he squared his shoulders, turned away, and went to pry Br’er Rabbit Senterra out of a mountain briar patch. The tabloid photographers climbed down from their trees, shrank back at the menacing look Noleene gave them, then toasted each other with a high-five. Next week everyone with a buck-fifty to invest would see photos of the world’s biggest macho action star doing a backward belly-flop in a haze of shotgun-induced terror, courtesy of yours truly and Boone Noleene, a brave man caught up in bad circumstances, who appeared to expect better of me but would tolerate worse.
You did wrong by that bodyguard , Harp whispered to me. Now, he was talking.
I picked up Dancer and cradled her to my breasts. Without much victory I whispered, “I know. But all’s fair in love and movies.”
HERO
DIRECTOR’S NOTES AND SCRIPT
CLASSIFIED PROPERTY—STONE SENTERRA
I MEAN IT! STAY OUT OF MY COMPUTER AND STOP TRYING
TO STEAL THIS SCRIPT, WHOEVER YOU ARE!
SCENE: DEEP MOUNTAIN WOODS, SPRINGTIME
Ten-year-old Grace Bagshaw, late-1970’s, a beautiful and well-dressed little girl, clutches her Farrah Fawcett knapsack as she hikes nervously through the wilderness and stops to peer through tall mountain laurel down into a beautiful glen.
GRACE
(talking aloud to herself)
This is it! Ladyslipper Lost! This is where my mother and daddy were hiking ten years ago when I was born! I was born right here! And this is where Grandmother Helen comes to find the secret flowers for her greenhouse!
TAKES A FEW STEPS FARTHER DOWN THE HILL. LOOKS AGAIN. GASPS.
Oh my.
Pan to bigger view of glen. Now she sees hundreds of pink ladyslipper orchids in bloom.
GRACE (CONT’D)
(awed)
This is it. The home of the ladyslippers. Look at them! Just look! Harper Vance has to be hiding here. It’s a magic place, just like Grandma Helen said.
(Calls loudly.)
Harper Vance! Harper Vance, are you in these caves around this magic hollow somewhere? I’ve come to save you, Harper Vance! I know you’re still alive! Please, Harper Vance, don’t run away again! I’m not just a rich little girl from a family who never pays attention to poor boys like you! I’m lonely and noble—just like you! And I’ve come to rescue you!”
Silence. Holding her knapsack tighter, Grace sniffs back tears and continues down the hill toward the glen filled with rare orchids.
END EXCERPT
Chapter 2
Look, all I really wanted that day was credit for finding Harp’s wormy corpse. I thought of him as the loneliest soul in the universe, next to me. Finding his rotting carcass would prove, in some strange way, that loneliness couldn’t hurt me anymore. After all, I had been born in the very spot where he was, most likely, dead.
“Harper Vance,” I yelled in the deep shade of a forest older than all Bagshaws combined. “If you’re alive you better say so, and if you’re not alive then don’t you dare haunt these woods! Because I was born in these woods and these woods belong to me and my dead mother, Willy Bagshaw, who fell over from a blood clot at Ladyslipper Lost, and so if you’re dead here it’s because she wants you here !” I
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