HELL OF A DEAL, a supernatural satire

Chapter Eight

8

Al Smith Junior entered The Smith Company office tower with his two new associates. All was new. Al was new. He was now an unknown quantity, and such people were systematically rejected at every turn in this Byzantine labyrinth. Al spun around in place with that realization on his mind. His shoes skidded beneath him on the slick marble. It was show time.

Alfred Smith's first movie experience was at the age of eight, shortly after his run-in with the law. He followed the other kids down the alley and to the rear of the local movie house. One of the older boys snuck in through the back door, and he signaled back for the other kids to follow him in. Their group dashed inside, crouched low, and they took their seats across the front row. The actors appeared ten feet tall and misshapen.

As Al watched The House of Phantasms he kept his eyes open and able to look over at the other boys as they ducked their heads down in fright. This movie offered up a completely new world of people, heiresses, scientists and vindictive, jilted lovers. It also offered a second world, a mysterious world of paranormal terror.

Al was fascinated how they could do all this and put it up on the screen so large. He knew then that he wanted to get in on the action.

For months afterward Al remained alert for any signs of ghosts. He kept a list of possible unnatural sightings, although they were so fast and they disappeared so completely, that he was never positive if he had actually seen a ghost.

Al also kept an eye out for suspicious adult behaviors. He wondered which type of role the men of his neighborhood played, and if they were leading characters or extras, if they had knowledge of the spirit world, or if they were just dummies.

Al craved news of the movies in the newspapers that he found tossed away. Star gossip was what he turned to directly. Although most of the words were long and unfamiliar the photographs said everything Al needed to know.

* * * * *

The Smith Tower elevator opened, and Anna Holt stared wide-eyed. With each moment, she peered harder than the moment before.

Al suspected that she knew it was him. Anna would see right through him. Nothing could sell this farce.

But now Anna looked older, older than Al himself. She was twenty plus years his junior, and she had always been a kid until today.

"Oh my God," said Anna.

"I'm, ...Al Smith Junior," he said, fully looking the part.

"I can see that. Where have you been all these years?" Anna seemed flustered and lightheaded. Al Junior had taken her completely off-guard.

"Um. That's a long story, Anna. And I've got a mess of work to get started on."

"Of course, Mr. Smith."

"Please, please, please call me Al. These are the new producers of Terra, which you must have seen the paperwork?"

"I did indeed," she said. "And it came way out of left field! We're still in shock around here. We've been stalling the press all day long."

Al turned back. "Where are my manners? Here, meet Louis Seaford and Katya Stone."

Anna extended her hand. "Welcome."

Lou smiled, and he shook Anna's hand softly. "The pleasure's all ours."

Al shuffled toward his sanctuary office. "Anna, can you send over our current A-list, screenwriters?"