Nobody Says It's Easy

24

In the early 1900s, Durmonth was a boom town. Money poured in and, the growing town soon became a hub for railroad, mining, and finance. 

Life was good.

It got even better when the papers announced the hottest movie star on the silent screen was coming to make a movie. Sylvan Blayne was slated to star in 'Angel of the Silver Star.'

The Silver Star was the R & J Railroad's fastest steam engine. The movie's title was also a play on Blayne's shimmering white hair and the sexy satin gowns she always wore onscreen. An alabaster goddess who radiated like a glittering celestial body, Sylvan Blayne's box office earnings eclipsed anyone else's in Hollywood.

Handsome Curst could not have been happier. His new three-story Victorian mansion was recently completed. The house was perched on a peak that overlooked the town.

Blayne was scheduled to arrive on the 2:15, and Curst, the bank owner and most prominent citizen of Durmonth, left instructions at the depot that the star would be expected to reside at his home for the duration of her stay.

Three o'clock passed, and still nobody had darkened his door. He threw the newspaper he'd been reading on his desk. His step was resolute. If anything was to be done correctly, he'd have to do it himself.

The town was bustling when he arrived at the depot. Crowds of strangers were milling about, businessmen, coal barons, passengers, and many of the camera crew. Curst knew this because these men were busy setting up cameras to shoot the activity that buzzed around them.

Trunks and large wooden crates littered the street nearby. Curst found Bleak Tubbs.

"I thought I told you to send the actress to my home," he said.

"I gave her your message, sir."

"Then where in the blazes is she?"

"Uh, over there," Tubbs said, pointing across the river.

"At the Divine Sin?"

"Yes, sir."

Tubbs lowered his eyes. He knew Handsome Curst. The man was as Bible-thumping as they came, but the look in his eyes when he was angry could wilt steel. Tubbs was determined not to be on the receiving end of it.

"Did this vixen say anything to you when you gave her my instructions?"

"Not much, sir," Tubbs mumbled. "She said something about having to stay with her movie crew. Studio rules or something."

It was a lie, but Tubbs knew if he stared at the ground, Curst would not be able to read his eyes. Curst stood there, tapping the toe of his fine leather boot on the wooden floor of the depot's platform.

"Very well," Curst said and stormed off.

The shoulders of Bleak Tubbs sank.

"You think he bought it?"

It was Hurley Vickers, one of the hands at the station.

"I don't know," said Tubbs. "And right now, I'm just too swamped to care."

***

Hotel employees were in a tizzy. The extra baggage from that bunch from Hollywood was ridiculous. Porters were running into each other, so loaded down that clear vision was impossible. Sylvan Blayne stood in the middle of the hotel's grand lobby and soaked up the scene. It was rich, hilarious, and typical.