Hollywood Angels by Alice Duncan

Author:Alice Duncan [Duncan, Alice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!

EIGHTEEN

It seemed as if we’d been sitting in Ernie’s office, none of us speaking, for several hours before we heard the outer office door open and Mr. Gabriel greet the returning Ernie. I failed to suppress my exhalation of relief. Mr. Brentwood, who’d been staring at the wall across the room from Ernie’s desk, jerked in Ernie’s chair.

“Mr. Templeton?” he asked, sounding scared.

“Yes, Mr. Templeton has returned,” I said, speaking softly and sweetly.

Evidently, my voice wasn’t sweet enough because poor Mr. Brentwood leaped to his feet and tried to hide. As he was already behind Ernie’s desk, which was shoved up against a wall, he didn’t have much luck, although he folded up like a concertina, drew his knees to his chest, and laid his head on his knees. His monocle, wonder of wonders, stayed in place.

“A Mr. Brentwood paid you a call,” said Mr. Gabriel to Ernie. “He’s sitting at your desk.”

“Oh yeah? Wonder what he wants.”

“Something happened to upset him.”

“Ah,” said Ernie. From the one word, I knew he wanted to say something more, and that if he did, it would be sarcastic. Ernie was acquainted with Mr. Brentwood, however, and didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so he allowed his “Ah” to stand on its own.

That was more than Mr. Brentwood did when Ernie opened his office door. Ernie saw Lulu and me, and then he saw Mr. Brentwood, squished into the corner made by Ernie’s desk and the far wall.

“Mr. Brentwood?” Ernie said in a soft voice.

“No. No. No, no, no, no,” said Mr. Brentwood. Then he finally admitted it. “Yes.”

“Would you like me to help you stand?” asked Ernie kindly. He removed his right glove and held the hand out to Mr. Brentwood, who stared at it as if it were a viper about to strike.

“Stand?” said Mr. Brentwood. “No. No. Yes.”

“Here you go,” said Ernie, benevolence fairly dripping from his voice. “Just take my hand, and I’ll help you stand up. You don’t look comfortable there.”

“No. No. Not comfortable,” said Mr. Brentwood.

Ernie stood still as Mr. Brentwood contemplated his current problem. They remained still for so long they reminded me of the tableaus we used to put on at Christmastime in my old Boston school. I got to play the Virgin Mary being annunciated once. I think the original painting was by some old Italian fellow. However, that’s not the point.

The point was that finally Mr. Brentwood decided to accept Ernie’s hand, and with him shoving himself and Ernie faintly tugging, Mr. Brentwood got to his feet. Instantly, he began looking around in what appeared to be panic to me.

I understood. “Here, Mr. Brentwood. Why don’t you sit in this chair?” The chairs in Ernie’s office weren’t awfully heavy, and I managed to wrestle one of them so it sort of blocked escape from behind Ernie’s desk and to the door.

“Chair?” he said. “Chair? Chair? Chair?” He gulped and finally said, “Yes.” Then he sat on the chair. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

Ernie sat in his own chair.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.