The Autograph Hound Read Online Free Page B

Somebody help! ”
    The crowd’s a forest of elbows and ankles. Then I see her—Moonstone’s well-dressed lady—on her hands and knees. She can’t get her balance. Feet ram the book and kick it aside. It slides under the fire escape by the ash cans.
    â€œLet’s get out of here,” says Moonstone.
    â€œWait a minute.”
    â€œHaven’t you ever been in a riot? Keep on the outside of the crowd.”
    I work my way over to the ash cans.
    â€œWanna get trampled, Benny?”
    I pick up the book. I push into the crowd and help the lady up.
    â€œThank God you found it,” she says. “Are the pages dirty?”
    â€œThey stepped on it.”
    â€œThirteen eighty-five for a Players’ Guide . Five hundred and twenty-four pages, five pictures to a page. Why won’t they stop pushing?”
    â€œC’mon, Walsh!”
    â€œNo upbringing. They treat you like Bette Davis,” she says, looking at her broken shoe. “ You’re all pigs . Not you.”
    â€œAre you all right, ma’am?”
    â€œAll right? Of course, I’m all right. Don’t I look all right?”
    â€œThe crowd’s murder.”
    â€œLook at my hands—they’re scraped. And my nail! Ecch. Don’t look at me.”
    â€œI saw you at the concert.”
    â€œThese people act like animals.”
    â€œLet’s get across the street.”
    She holds the book to her chest. I step in front of her to lead the way. “Don’t look at me,” she says. “I’m not composed. I’m a mess.”
    I put her book on the hood of a ’68 GTO called “The Eliminator.”
    She leans against the car and buckles her shoe. “The only Joan Crawford ‘Chase Me’ shoes in New York. Took a month to find them. Three-inch heels. Open toe. None of those imitation fat heels. Stiletto, see. The real thing.”
    â€œThey don’t pay much attention in a rough crowd like that.”
    â€œYou’d think they’d show some respect. Where have you seen platform shoes, cinch belts, padded shoulders, real silk stockings?”
    â€œIn the movies.”
    â€œI’ve been wearing these kind of clothes fifteen years. Boutiques are just catching up with my style. Are my seams straight now?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. Very Joan Crawford.”
    â€œYou’ve got a better eye than your friend. That’s because you’re older. You’ve been around.”
    â€œC’mon, Benny, let’s split.”
    â€œI know your type—Bette Davis fans. You applaud when she walks out on Leslie Howard in Of Human Bondage . So what if he had a club foot? Leslie Howard would’ve made an excellent husband. He was kind and talented. He had the bedside manner. The minute he looked down Bette’s throat, Leslie knew it was her lungs.”
    Moonstone pulls me aside. “Benny, this broad’s a bomb.”
    â€œI heard that.”
    â€œHe’s just a kid, lady. He don’t know how to act around grown-ups.”
    â€œWhat’s your name, Mr. Know-It-All?”
    â€œMoonstone.”
    â€œMr. Moonstone, what do you do in case of an atomic conflict?”
    â€œYou gotta be kidding, lady.”
    â€œOne. Never look at the sight of the blast. Two. Turn your head away from the shock wave. Three. Get as close to the ground as possible. Four. Cover your head to avoid debris.”
    â€œCan we split now?”
    â€œThe number-one rule of safety, and he doesn’t know it.”
    â€œWho cares?”
    I give Moonstone the elbow. He’s been hanging out with Sypher too much. You don’t talk back to performers. You listen.
    â€œThe new actors have a method. They get background for their parts.”
    â€œDo you play nurses or something?”
    â€œIs there any place around here where a girl can make herself pretty?”
    â€œI’m new down here, too.”
    â€œFirst time?”
    â€œIt was