Sunset Express

Guess the people at the Times had higher standards. Lucy said, 'Oh, Elvis. This is so exciting.'

I said, 'Um.'

'Aren't you proud?'

'It's kinda neat, I guess.' I held up the paper next to my face and frowned. 'Do I look like Moe Howard?'

Lucy compared me to the picture, then nodded. 'Yes. Yes, I think you do.'

A round man with thick glasses and a nervous tic walked past, staring. He went to a brown Cressida, still staring, then called out, 'Hey, are you that guy?'

I folded the paper and tossed it in the car.

'I read about what you did. I saw you on the news. That was good work.'

I gave a little wave. 'Thanks.'

He said, 'These cops here in L.A. suck, don't they?'

I frowned at him. 'Some of my best friends are cops.'

He made a nasal, braying laugh, then climbed into his car and drove away.

I opened the door for Lucy and we drove east across West Hollywood and Hollywood, and then up through the Cahuenga Pass to Universal Studios. We parked in one of the big parking structures with about twelve million other tourists, then followed along with what seemed an endless stream of people to the ticket kiosks and then into yet more lines that led to the trams. It made me feel like a lemming.

We rode the trams around the Universal back lot and took goofy pictures of ourselves posing with giant toothpaste tubes and rode little cars past screeching dinosaurs and gargantuan gorillas, and then Lucy said, 'I feel the urge to spend.'

I looked at her. 'Spend?'

Ben made as if he was horrified. 'Not that, Mom! Not that! Try to control it!'

Lucy's eyes narrowed in concentration and her gaze went blank. 'The shopping gene is beyond all control. Souvenirs.,' must have souvenirs!'

It was horrible to behold. Lucy bought; I carried. Three T-shirts, two sweatshirts, and a snow-shaker paperweight later, we had exhausted the selection in the upper park and trekked down to CityWalk in search of more booty. The CityWalk is a large, open-air mall with shops, bookstores, restaurants, and other fine places to spend your money. Some people have described the CityWalk as an urban version of Disney's Main Street U.S.A., but I've always thought of it as a G-rated take on Blade Runner. Only without the rain.

It was just before noon when we got there, and, like the park above, the CityWalk was thick with tour groups from Asia and visitors from around the country. We walked the length of the CityWalk, browsing in the shops and watching the people, Lucy and I holding hands while Ben ranged around us. It felt good to be not working and good to be with Lucy. I said, 'Do you think you can rein in your spending spree long enough to eat?'

She looked at me the way the cat does when I take his bowl before he's finished.

'I may not be able to carry this stuff much longer without an infusion of calories.'

'You'll manage.'

'We may have to hire porters.'

'It's only money.'

'We may have to stop spending.'

She made a big sigh and rolled her eyes. 'Modern men are such wimps.'

I leaned close to her ear. 'That's not what you said last night on the deck.'

Lucy laughed and hugged my arm tight, biting my shoulder through the shirt. 'O.K., Studly, your wish is my command. Where would you like to eat?'

'You said that last night, too.'

She dug her thumb in my ribs and said, 'Shh! Ben!'

'He didn't hear. C'mon. There's a Puck's ahead. We can eat there.'

'Puck's! Oh; goody!'

We went to Wolfgang Puck's and stood in line for a table. Everyone around us was from Iowa or Canada or Japan, and no one seemed to have seen the news or read the paper or, if they had, didn't care. There was plenty of outdoor seating, and the people at the tables were enjoying salads and sandwiches.

We worked our way up the line to a pretty blonde hostess who told us that it would be just another minute when I caught an overweight guy staring at me. He was sitting at one of the tables, eating shredded chicken salad and reading a Times. He looked from me to the paper, then back to me. He stopped a passing waitress, showed her the paper, then they both looked at me. I turned so that I was facing the opposite direction. Lucy said, 'Those people are looking at you.'

'Great.'

'I think they recognize you.'

'I know.'

'He's pointing at you.'

The Korean couple behind us looked at me, too. I guess they saw the pointing. I smiled and nodded at them, and they smiled back.

Lucy said, 'Ohmigod, he's showing the paper to the people at the next table.'

I touched the hostess's arm. 'Do you think you could find us a table, please. Inside or out. First available.'

'Let me check.' She disappeared into the restaurant.

Lucy said, 'Maybe we should run for it.'

'Very funny.'

'We could leave. I don't mind.'

'No. You want Puck's, we're going to eat at Puck's.'

An older couple behind the Korean people craned around to see what all the looking and pointing was about. The woman looked from me to the people with the newspaper, then back to me. She said something to her husband and he shrugged. I turned the other way, and now the heavy man with the newspaper was locked in conversation with a table of six people, all of whom were twisted around in their seats to see me. I said, 'This is nuts.'

Lucy was smiling.

I said, 'This isn't funny.'

The woman behind the Korean couple said, 'Excuse me. Are you somebody?'

I said, 'No.'

She smiled at me. 'You're an actor, aren't you? You're on that show.'

Lucy began one of those silent laughs where your face goes red and you're trying not to but can't help yourself.

I said, 'I'm not. Really.'

'Then why is everybody looking at you?'

'It's a long story.'

The woman gave me huffy. 'Well, it's not very friendly of you, if you ask me, snubbing your public like this.'

Lucy leaned toward the woman. 'He can be just horrible, can't he? I talk to him about it all the time.'

I stared at her.

The woman said, 'Well, you should. It's so unkind.'

Lucy gave me a little push. 'Why don't you give her an autograph.'

I stared harder. 'You're some kind of riot, you know that?'

Lucy nodded. Brightly.

The woman said, 'Oh, that would be just so nice.' She gestured to her husband. 'Merle, we have a pen, don't we?' She shoved a pen and a souvenir napkin from Jodi Maroni's sausage kitchen at me to sign. The Korean couple were talking in Korean to each other, the man searching frantically through a shoulder bag.

I took the napkin and leaned close to Lucy. 'I'm going to get you for this.'

She turned away so no one could see her breaking up. 'Oh, I really, really hope you do.'

Ben said, 'Mom? Why are these people looking at Elvis?'

The older woman's eyes grew large. 'You're Elvis!'

The Korean woman held out an autograph book and the Korean man began taking pictures. Two teenaged girls who were seated behind the party of six saw me signing the Jodi Maroni napkin and came over, and then two younger guys from the table of six followed. A tall, thin man across the restaurant stood up at his table and aimed his video camera at me. His wife stood with him. An Hispanic couple passing on the CityWalk stopped to see what was going on, and then three young women who looked like they'd come up to the CityWalk on their lunch hour stopped, too. A woman with very loose upper arms pointed at me and told her friend, 'Oh, I just love his movies, don't you?' She said it loudly.

The heavy man with the newspaper who had started it got up and walked away. Lucy and Ben were walking away, too. Quickly. Off to ruin someone else's life, no doubt.

The crowd grew. I signed twenty-two autographs in four minutes, and they were the longest four minutes of my life. I finally begged off by announcing that as much as I enjoyed meeting them, the President required my counsel and so I must leave. When I said it the woman with the loose arms said, 'I didn't know he was in politics, too!'