Like any high school sophomore, Dennis understood he was close to the bottom of the totem pole. Most of the tenth graders at Cabot already had a year's worth of experience on him. As one of the inexperienced technical students he was relegated the grunt work in production, he was told he would probably not be assigned a position on the stage crew in his first semester.

This semester was to be all academic and lab work, but he was free to attend any rehearsal he wanted and observe. A stage production required focus and commitment on the part of a good crew, there was little room for inexperience at this point.

But Dennis attended a lot of evenings, comparing what he had learned in class to the reality of a show under pressure. That was the one certainty that affected them all. At the beginning of a production cycle there was one basic reality. Eight weeks from now there would be an audience in the house, nothing could stop that, it was a given.

He learned the basics of building scenery, and the language to describe all the pieces of the set. A wall on stage was little more than a specialized frame covered in canvas that would only come to life under the painter's brush, it was called a flat. Dennis was handed a brush and a can of paint, he was allowed to paint the back of the flats with a fire retardant.

The rules of the game were pretty strict, nothing flammable was allowed. And thus all the wood was covered in special paint and the canvas was impregnated with chemicals to keep it from burning. They were told the fire marshal inspected everything, and he always assumed the worst.

It was in the scenic lab that Dennis was exposed to the talent of the older students, the ones who led by example. Brady had his favorites, students who had the skills to produce what he drew and get it right the first time. Corky Stevens was the young man currently in charge of the shop spaces and all the tools.

Before the first week was over Dennis had great respect for Corky and the way he ran things, he was the answer man for almost everything. Demonstrating the tools to the new students and watching as they cut their first pieces of wood took a lot of patience, not everyone was a woodshop ace.

Like most boys, Dennis had taken woodshop in middle school. It had taught him respect for a fast spinning saw blade and the dangers of doing things the wrong way. Corky was all over the place, watching, waiting for a wrong move. Only a few of the fourteen students in the class were told to come by later for some brush up work on tool safety.

Brady was no where in sight when Dennis and the class were shown the designs for that first show, a drama written by John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men.

"Most of this show will take place 'In One,'" Corky explained. "Now what that means is that the actors will spend most of the time standing in front of something like a curtain or backdrop instead of being in or on the scenery."

There were only three sets for three acts. A bunkhouse interior, a barn interior, and then a backdrop for the exterior scenes.

"First show of the semester is always the simplest since you guys will produce most of it. That's not to say it won't look good, we'll make it the best we possibly can."

Corky was right, it did look good under the bright stage lights. Dennis could pick out the pieces he'd built and that made him proud, but not as proud as when Corky pulled him aside with some good news.

"I'm directing a student show for class this spring, I want you to build my scenery," Corky said.

Corky was a multi-discipline student. He was a design major but was also taking a directing class, which would be his spring showcase. Dennis was flattered, and a little intimidated. He was honest enough to tell Corky he might not be ready for such an assignment.

Corky laughed. "Yes you are, I've had my eye on you. Class shows are pretty simple; we always use old scenery so you won't have to build much of anything. It's a single set, an apartment interior…more suggestive than real. After all, the focus is on the directing and I have a great cast picked out. Don't worry, we'll do it together."

"OK," Dennis said, "I'll do it."

Piece by piece, Corky and Dennis assembled the set for that class show in a corner of the storeroom off the directing classroom. The show was some months away but all of the student directors wanted scenery. Of course Corky would have first pick.

With Of Mice and Men out of the way and well received by the audience, Dennis fell into the rhythm of the department. He built some props in lab for the small operetta scheduled before Christmas and started taking the lighting section of class.

He had been given the assistant position on the prop crew for the operetta, something a new student rarely achieved. But this was a community based group and the students would do their best to support the performances. Dennis figured Corky had put in a good word with Brady. So he helped Connie assemble the prop tables for rehearsals, but she had to find and purchase all the pieces.

His job was to mind the tables, pass out the props and make sure they were returned to their rightful place after use on stage. It was his first interaction with actors, and the things actors do…or in this case, don't do.

Student actors presented one kind of issue. Adults, teens and children in the community theatre represented another challenge. But Cabot allowed them this one shot at using the theatre during the school year and threw the weight of the production crews behind it.

Connie was a junior, a veteran of many shows and the problems actors create, for themselves and the crews. She had a very simple explanation which she shared with Dennis.

"Never met an actor whose middle name wasn't ego," She told him. "Most of them become so wrapped up in character they forget who they really are most of the time. It's like dealing with aliens."

Or cattle, Dennis was soon to learn. In shows with a large cast, the backstage crews herded actors on and off stage. In the dark it was dangerous back there; people could get hurt running into things. The best place for actors was in the dressing rooms or greenroom, all technical students believed that. It was an inconvenience that the actors even had to be onstage at all.

So when actors walked off stage with their props Dennis had to chase them down before the precious objects became lost. If something went missing it would be his fault not theirs, actors were blameless, just ask one.

And as if running props wasn't enough of a headache, Dennis was also on the lighting crew for a show next door in the dance theatre, better known to the students as Twinkle Toes Hall. Neil Parks was the ME or master electrician in the dance theatre. He pulled in rookies to fill his crews, at least in the minor capacity of backstage babysitting.

There were five students working the modern dance show, Neil the senior and four sophomores. Bret and Steven had limited experience in lighting but they would run overhead follow spots during the performances. But dance shows had tall stands of lights backstage set up on the floor behind the curtains, thus the babysitters.

Tim Collins had the stage left position, Dennis was assigned stage right. That would be the right side of the stage in the wings. The designation was assigned from the acting point of view facing the audience. What the audience might think to call it was irrelevant.

Stage right was considered the strong side. Most major entrances and exits were made on that side and the stage manager's control station was located here. Actors shared a lounge space off stage right called the greenroom, and the dressing rooms were generally close at hand.

Stage left was considered the weak side. If there was rolling scenery for a show it was stored here away from the actors. Most theatres had their shop access on this side, huge doors that were often left open during shows. Stage left was considered technician territory.

No matter which side they were on, the lights stacked up on a metal pole, four to a side, required watching. Thick electrical cables ran to the floor pockets where they were plugged in and each pole held ten heavy fixtures. The lights were visually and electrically tested before each performance, but things did go wrong occasionally.

Dennis was handed a box with spare lamps, the proper term for the light bulbs each fixture used. He was also shown where the step ladder stored offstage and given a heavy padded glove he would need if a lamp blew out and he had to replace it during a show. Other than that he was assigned to stand around and watch the dancers from the wings. And that is how he met Bobby Lambert.

A senior, Bobby was well established in the dance company and cast in leading roles. Dennis had never seen a dance performance before when he was assigned to the modern dance recital.

At the first rehearsal he stood backstage in awe of the strength and energy it took for a dancer to perform. And then this boy came rushing off stage, heading straight at the lighting equipment where Dennis stood.

A collision with a stand full of expensive lights would be disastrous and so Dennis moved to catch him. They collided and were pushed across the floor and into a rack of scenery stored in the wings.

The dancer was covered in sweat and Dennis felt that muscular body envelop his as they both tried to keep from falling. The catch turned into a hug as they whirled around to a standstill.

"Thanks," the boy panted, "I lost my balance. You, OK…uh…?"

Dennis was more than OK, he was smitten. Bobby Lambert was tall and muscular, his shaggy blonde hair and clear blue eyes held an amused gaze.

"Dennis, I'm fine," He replied.

"You sure are," the boy said. "I'm Bobby."

Dennis didn't miss a single one of Bobby's rehearsals after that. And whenever Bobby saw him standing in the wings backstage he would smile and then made a fake stage trip, as if he were falling over his own feet.

It made them laugh and they shared the secret knowledge of that first meeting. By the time the dance performances ended there was only one thing Dennis wanted. Bobby invited him to spend a weekend at his house when the parents went out of town. He was so gentle and sweet. Dennis was ready to give the boy anything.

Bobby gave him a reason to focus on the dance performance after that fateful crash, but it was more than a cute hunk of man that captured his imagination. Dennis began to study the lighting of dance shows.

There was little in modern dance performances that resembled stagecraft, scenery was generally absent. A large flat space, the requisite background to reflect light and sometimes a few props. There was little to detract from the dance itself. But it was the movement of the dancers that made Dennis comprehend that lighting was an integral part of the performance.

Bodies moving in and out of the beams of light, beams that surrounded them on all sides with a multicolored spectrum. The dancers took their cue from the lights, formed their lines and patterns because of the lights. This was the perfect blend of technology and art. Bobby told him more.

"I can go out on a dark stage and when I look up at the spotlights there's a glow. Neil says that there always seems to be some electrical bleed in the dimmers so the lamps glow, but that's all I need to see to find my place. And when the spot comes up full I know I'm in the right place, I can feel the heat even with my eyes closed.

"There's no feeling like that in the world, it's glorious. And when we dance you can feel like colors wrap themselves around your body in waves as you move through the beams. It's magical, its inspiration…I love it. It's better than sex…well, almost," Bobby laughed.

Dennis studied the things Bobby told him about the lights during the rehearsals, and then before the show opened he spent the weekend with the boy and studied the other side of the coin. The lighting was glorious, but he the preferred the kisses.

When he stood backstage during the evening performances and listened to the audience applaud Dennis felt something. The dancers received all the glory but he felt a part of the show, he knew some of that applause was for him.

It was Corky who finally defined that something Dennis felt. He said it after a late night of rehearsal on the operetta. Amal and the Night Visitors was running two weekends and it looked wonderful. The production work had been made simple because the set had been built eight years before, the show was presented every other season and so all they had to do was pull it out of storage and dust it off.

It was the first time Dennis had attended a midnight coffee klatch at the all night pancake restaurant; it would be the first of many such gatherings.

"This show has great appeal, and even though the scenery gets used year after year it still has that gasp factor," Corky said.

"What's that mean?" Dennis asked.

There were a few smiles around the table from the experienced students. But Corky seemed to enjoy being able to explain.

"The audience files into a darkened theatre and sits down. The main curtain is down so all they see is a soft wall of burgundy or blue or gold velvet. The program they've been handed speaks to the production, the cast, and we even get our names in there somewhere.

"But nowhere does it give them the slightest clue as to what they are about to see. They might be familiar with the show and the music, but they don't know what it looks like behind that curtain. And then the suspense builds as the orchestra begins the overture and the lights dim. It's my favorite moment in any show, the moment of revelation.

"The curtain goes up and the cue calls for whatever lighting the scene requires. But the smart designer will give the audience their moment to appreciate the set with a full wash of revealing light…and if we have done our job well that's when we get to hear the gasp. It's the techie's moment of glory, and it means the audience is pleased."

"I remember two years ago we got applause for the opening set in Pirates of Penzance," Janice said.

Corky nodded. "I remember that, it freaked me out. It was that big bloody ship and all those hours of weaving the ropes for the rigging. Yeah, that was sweet."

Dennis listened to the chatter, wondering if he would ever hear applause for one of his sets. An audience wasn't always a good judge of what their best effort might be. The audience had given George Briggs a standing ovation for his Camelot when Dennis didn't think they deserved it.

And so it was that as the curtain rose on opening night of Amal, Dennis was backstage listening closely for the audience reaction and he heard the gasp. And right at that moment he knew the rest of his life would be lived in pursuit of that sound. Someday it would be his scenic design that would make them exclaim with wonder.

The school threw a Christmas party and Lynch declared a moratorium on production work between Christmas and New Year.

"Take the vacation, sleep if you must, but I'm ordering the security staff to keep the doors locked," Lynch said. "There's nothing here that's so important, so pressing, that you all can't leave and take a week off. Enjoy the holiday and I'll see you all next year."

"He must be kidding," Corky said. "The directing students need the rehearsal time."

Dennis didn't know about the others, but he wanted the time off…Bobby was going to take him away for three days. Everyone left the school two days before Christmas, and yet Dennis knew they would find a way around the edict. He wouldn't be there; he would be on top a snow covered mountain with Bobby…and about ten thousand other people.

Lake Tahoe was just far enough away that Dennis would feel apart from his family, even if was only for a few days. Besides the coastline beaches, Tahoe was the playground of choice year round…they had everything.

It came as no surprise that Bobby's family had a place at the south end of the lake, right below the Heavenly Ski Resort. Although Dennis had been to Tahoe several times over the years he'd never been there in winter, he didn't even know how to ski. It was something he would have to tell Bobby before they left. First he had to tell his parents.

Bobby had that movie star look; Dennis saw that reflected in his mother's eyes when they first met. To his parents, Bobby was just another student at the school; he didn't think naming the boy their premier male dancer would help one bit…at least not with his father. He should have had a little more faith in Bobby's ability to charm.

"Mr. King…Mrs. King, so nice to meet you," Bobby said after his introduction.

Dennis' mother was already appraising him so Bobby smiled her way. Dennis knew his father would be the hard sell.

"So…Bobby, what made you decide to attend Cabot?" Henry asked.

"My father actually," Bobby said. "I didn't feel inclined to enter the accounting profession; I'd probably make a better teacher."

"Your father is in accounting?"

"Lambert, Pratt and Evans, that's my father," Bobby said.

That was like telling a banker his pedigree, and Bobby knew it. LP&E was the largest banking oversight firm in the state; they had dozens of government contracts. Henry could only smile; he was too stunned to talk. Dennis' mother took over from there.

"I think teaching is a noble profession, I'm sure your father will be very proud. Dennis got us tickets to see the Amal production, are you working on that?"

"No ma'am, I don't have the time. Community theatre events are usually covered by the new students. Dennis should be proud that he was assigned a production role so soon after starting the school. I'm working on three other things at the moment, which keeps me busy enough."

Bobby handled the parents with all the grace and style of a ballet star, and after they were hooked he formally invited Dennis to attend a holiday gathering at his folk's place in Tahoe. The approval was a foregone conclusion.

"Lambert, I should have known," Henry said once Bobby had left, and then he smiled. "You have an important friend there, Dennis."

"He's a sweet boy," Dennis' mother said. If only she knew.

Christmas with younger kids in the house was always fun, even if they were past the Santa stage of life. But Dennis was digging in his closet for winter gear, and finding none he tried the trunks in the basement. He had a sweater or two, what he needed was a jacket. Everything he found was too small, when had he grown so much?

But his mother understood and took him shopping the day before he was supposed to leave with Bobby. He came home with everything he needed to wear, but someone would still have to teach him how to ski.

Bobby laughed that off on the drive into the mountains. "I'm not much of a skier myself, don't fret about it, we'll do the bunny slopes together."

"Who else is going to be there?" Dennis asked. "You said it was a gathering."

"It will be, but my folks are in Hawaii. I have gay friends all over the lake; we party every year at my place."

"Cool," Dennis said. He was in the life now.

It took them three hours in Bobby's Jeep, the last hour in four wheel drive. The mountains were blanketed in a fresh fall of snow with more forecast into the weekend. They followed Tahoe Boulevard around the southern end of the lake and into the resort town of Bijou. The mountains loomed on the California-Nevada border and they turned away from the lake.

The road sign said Pioneer Trail. "See that?" Bobby said. "This is the way the pioneers and settlers came into the state, this is history."

"I feel sorry for them," Dennis said. "They didn't have Jeeps."

The Lambert place was stuck to the side of a hill, just your average multi-million dollar vacation home. The driveway was plowed and Bobby said they had a maintenance company for the property.

"It's just us for the night, tomorrow the others will start to arrive," Bobby said.

"So…no one is here now? And if you're having a party who gets to cook all the food and serve the drinks?"

"Ahh, a techie at heart, always analyzing the production values of something. The management company was to have come in this morning and turned up the heat. Tomorrow morning the caterer will arrive and bring us the food and drink, they've done all this before. Tonight we have to fend for ourselves, what would you like to eat?"

"I only saw the iHop on the way in, what else is there?" Dennis asked.

Bobby laughed. "We could do that, but this is South Tahoe, we're surrounded with gourmet dining. OK, the closest is a steak house, or maybe sushi, but that's better in summer."

"Don't make me choose," Dennis said.

"OK…I'll surprise you," Bobby said.

They carried their bags into the house where Dennis discovered the living room was the size of a hotel lobby. Bobby had his own bedroom with one large bed, there was no doubt that they would be sleeping together.

Until now their relationship had been little more than conversation and some kissing, but Dennis had been truthful abut his experience, or lack of. Bobby could only smile and tell Dennis about his first experience, it had been with a girl.

"I was fourteen, she was the daughter of my mother's best friend, and she was nineteen," Bobby said. "I knew by then that I wasn't really thinking a whole lot about girls, but thinking gay in my family seemed out of the question."

He sighed. "My mom let me take a tap class, I think dancers need to study every form of the discipline and I like tap dancing. But Virginia showed up one afternoon to pick me up from class. Seems her mother and mine had been into the wine closet a little early and mom didn't feel like driving to fetch me.

"So rather than take me right home, Virginia took me to her house. The minute we walked in the door she was all over me. I really didn't know how to react; it was all like some fantasy she was playing out. But she used me every way she could think of and then made me walk home.

"I couldn't tell anyone, you're the first one to know. But maybe I learned something important. Some girls are sluts; they ought to print a warning on their forehead. I didn't bring you here to treat you like a play toy, Dennis. You don't have to sleep in my bed."

Dennis dropped his bag on the floor and leaned into Bobby. "I will sleep in your bed, I just don't know if I'll be good at anything else."

Bobby put his arms around Dennis' waist and pulled him close. "Baby, you'll be good at anything you try."

They had dinner at the Mongolian steak house and came back to sit in the den before the fireplace. The soft light of the flames allowed them to see the snow falling in the trees behind the house. Bobby shared a snifter of brandy and they kissed, it was the beginning of a wonderful night.

Bobby was a gentle lover, probably because his own first experiences were harsh. He didn't explain everything; that would only come with time. But in surrendering himself, Dennis felt something he'd known was lurking in the shadows…he felt love.

Their coupling left no doubt, this is what he was meant to do…to be. Opening himself to all the pleasurable feelings a gay man might have, Dennis allowed himself to love Bobby. And when the brandy was done and the fire extinguished they crawled between the sheets and did it all over again.

They finally made the iHop by late morning. Their smiles across the table spoke volumes about the journey their lives had taken the night before, Dennis was sure everyone would know they were lovers.

They returned to the house to find the caterer at work and the kitchen filled with food and drink. By one that afternoon the first of the guests began to arrive, and what a crowd they were. Bobby had said he had a few friends around the lake, but he didn't say who they were.

The first person Dennis saw was Vince…Vince somebody, he couldn't remember the last name. But the face had graced the magazine covers his mother bought, the young man was a film star. Bobby saw the look and shook his head, pulling Dennis aside.

"You'll see more like him; just don't say anything about who or what they are. There will be a lot of star power in this house today and tomorrow, call them all by their first names and nothing more."

"You didn't tell me you knew all these famous people," Dennis said.

"They're just good people, Dennis…good friends. Don't get star struck so early in your career, you're going to be famous one of these days and you'll understand. But many of them are gay, just not open about it because of what it will do to their careers. They may all be famous but I'm the luckiest guy here, I have you." And with that he went off to greet his guests.

Dennis allowed the pleasure of that statement to wash over him, and then he walked into the living room to meet some good people. And they kept arriving until the driveway was full and cars lined the street. The names kept walking through the door and if he didn't know them Dennis asked for their first name.

It seems Bobby knew a lot of these people through his older brother Al, who was now off in New York working for a major broadcasting company. The holiday party had begun seven years ago, mostly because many of these friends had fled to Tahoe to avoid family entanglements after Christmas.

The ages varied, it wasn't one of the qualifying factors to get invited. There was an aging actress who was known for her star dance performances in film, and a boy named Tom who was Dennis' age. He had just received his license and drove in from Reno where he was performing. A lot of the talk was about skiing, or the outrageous guy who showed up in surfer shorts with several feet of snow on the ground. Good people…and Dennis became one of them.

He found himself sitting on the enclosed porch beside the aging dancer, both of them staring up at the mountain and the gondola to the ski resort which passed by every fifteen minutes or so.

"So you're Bobby's friend…where is he?" She asked.

"I think he's off shooting pool with the guys, or is it billiards…is there a difference?"

"I'm sure I don't know," She chuckled. "And how do you know him?"

"We're in school together, although I certainly can't dance," Dennis laughed, maybe it was the wine.

Her name was Gloria, and she looked down at her feet clad in soft tiny shoes. "I don't think my feet want to remember those days, it was all so exhausting. What are you studying?"

"I'm just beginning the technical program. I worked on the lighting for Bobby's last show," Dennis replied.

"Ah, the magicians. When I was a little girl I always thought the magic of theatre was done by little elves. Back then I never saw the crews at work behind the lights, it always happened after my bedtime." And she laughed. "In many ways it still is magic, so many new things happening."

"I would love to design something, but that's still a few years off," Dennis said.

"You keep after it and you'll get there," Gloria said. "Our Bobby will be off to New York pretty soon. Every young dancer wants to see the lights of Broadway, I was no different."

Dennis stared down into his wine glass. What she had said was true, Bobby would be leaving. The joy of last night still burned inside, but he knew it would end…he had always known. Gloria placed a hand on his arm and Dennis looked up at her.

"I'm sure he means the world to you," She said. "But if you love him you have to let him go, he can't give up his dreams."

Dennis nodded. "He'll go…we'll still be friends."

Gloria patted his hand and smiled. "Do you wonder at all these young men here today? They lead such secretive lives because of the things they love. Some of them have made great achievements, reaching for the stars, and in the process have given up a part of themselves. They can't have that glorious public life unless they hide the truth; it's the shameful price of fame.

"I was married four times before I gave up that folly. Famous lives can't enjoy what everyone else does. The time will come when you know the person you're with is the one for you, Dennis. I never felt that, my loves were all a matter of convenience or studio publicity. Even when your star shines brightest you don't own the glitter. Be wary of fame, young man."

She sighed. "And now I better get up and circulate before these old legs of mine fall asleep." She chuckled. "Back in the day they always said Marlene Dietrich had the best legs in Hollywood…I think I ran a close second." The chuckles became outright laughter as she rose from the couch and walked back into the house.

The party ran on into the evening, long after a sumptuous buffet dinner was served and cleaned up by the caterer. The general circulating withered, the remaining people forming into small groups. Those who had left were off to the slopes for some night skiing and the lights they could see on the mountain gave it a ghostly appearance.

Dennis stood at the windows and stared, lost in thought. An arm slid across his shoulders and squeezed.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself this evening," Bobby said.

"I did…I am. You were right, your friends are all good people," Dennis replied.

"They all wanted to know who you are."

"And what did you tell them?"

Bobby squeezed him again. "I said you were my friend, my companion…and my love. Did I go too far?"

Dennis smiled. "No, I love you too."

Bobby was silent for a moment. "It's not going to be easy, babe. You know where I'm headed; I don't want you to get hurt."

"It will hurt…but not like you think," Dennis said. "I will always have your friendship, but you won't be there to share it. I can't imagine how hard it will be for you to be out there fighting your way to the top. What hurts is that I can't be there to help you."

Bobby lifted Dennis' chin and kissed him. "I know…but you'll always be in my thoughts and that will help."

"Gloria seems to think you'll be a great success," Dennis said.

"Gloria? Oh…" And Bobby laughed. "That's not her real name. It's a character she played in one of her films."

"Why would she…?"

"Dennis, who she is doesn't matter. She's one of the most wonderful people I know, my favorite guest. She's eighty years old, did you know that? You wouldn't know by looking. She was Broadway's darling who went off to Hollywood and starred in the last of the great dance movies."

"I don't think I've ever seen her perform," Dennis said.

Bobby nodded. "I would be surprised if you had, that was a long time ago. I think our little party is winding down; a lot of people want to go skiing tomorrow. How's about you and me on the bunny slopes at noon?"

Dennis grinned. "It's a deal, just don't laugh at me."

"No way, we'll be terrible together."

But after breakfast they had fun. The gondola ride up the slopes took them to the first station and the beginner's slope. Dennis was glad to see they weren't the only ones getting off there. Then he went through the learning process of trying to move with skis on his feet.

For someone who didn't know how to ski Bobby sure knew a lot about the process, and Dennis considered that the boy was lying. That thought occurred when Dennis fell down for the third time and Bobby helped him to his feet.

"I do believe in beginner's luck, but you know too much to be a novice," Dennis said. "You've been skiing for years, haven't you?"

Bobby nodded. "Since I was six. I didn't want you to feel inadequate, not everyone has access to learning the sport."

Dennis laughed. "And so here you are on the beginner's slope with a dummy like me."

"A beautiful dummy, but you'll learn," Bobby replied. "This skiing thing is a lot like dancing in snow…let me show you."

By mid-morning Dennis wasn't falling down any more. He'd learned his balance point and how to stop; from then on it was only forward progress. And even though Bobby could probably ski the whole mountain he stuck to the beginner's slope. Dennis could think of no greater expression of love.

The dinner that evening was a tradition, everyone brought in food for the grandest pot luck supper Dennis had ever seen. Piles of carry out containers covered the kitchen and the wine flowed. Gloria wasn't there this evening, but Dennis circulated and discovered new friends.

Vince Delaney was still there, Dennis had finally remembered his name.

"A technical theatre student," Vince said. "I did some of that once."

They were sitting in a small group of actors on the floor in front of the living room fireplace. A dozen of the beautiful people in Hollywood pretending to be just plain folks.

"I have to admit you guys make us look good and don't get any of the glory," Vince said.

Dennis smiled. "I get satisfaction."

"Technicians get a steady paycheck too," Brenda Nichols said. "You have to admire that.

Dennis smiled, an interesting comment from a twenty something woman who had been nominated for a bunch of acting awards. There was little shop talk, no one wanted to talk about their work, but stories abounded.

"I did a B movie that was supposed to take place in hell," Mike Stone said.

"All B movies take place in hell," Vince laughed and so did the others.

Mike nodded. "The designer's image of hell nearly killed us all in one scene. Marty Grier played the devil."

"Oh, he'd be a perfect devil," Brenda said.

"He was, but no one knew him back then," Mike said. "The sinners were trapped in a cauldron covered in smoke created by these fog machines. Every time someone opened a door in the studio the draft would blow the fog out of the cauldron. Finally the director had to station people at the doors…well, we finally got down to the scene where the devil arrives. And they had this elevator to bring him up out of the depths of the smoke…fog…whatever it was.

"I had the part of the Archangel. I was to fly in and fight the devil for the poor souls in his cauldron…lame, very lame," Mike laughed. "But it was a paying job and I got billing above the title.

"So here I am waiting for my entrance, suspended by a cable, when the devil rises up and they trip the flame cannons. It was a cheap effect, probably why no one thought it through. The devil was head and shoulders above the fog when the flames shot out…and ignited the fog."

There were a few gasps and Dennis shook his head. Oil generated fog hadn't been used in years; it was all dry ice these days.

"I was dangling above the flash which remained confined to the cauldron when the fog ignited. It was a huge burst of flame and then nothing, just some smoke left over. The crew went berserk and the studio lights flared on. There was poor Marty; you couldn't tell if he'd been burned because he was wearing red makeup. But he didn't have a hair left on his head and neither did anyone else in the cauldron."

"I never heard of a film like that," Vince said.

Mike laughed. "It never got made, that was a wrap. The only people who made any money off that project were the lawyers. I didn't get a piece of that, but it launched Marty's career."

The stories went around the circle until everyone looked at Dennis. "Aw, come on guys…I've only been in theatre one semester," He said, and they all looked disappointed. "But…" Dennis said, and he told them how he'd met Bobby.

Brenda patted his arm. "That's not a disaster, sweetie, that's fate. Lucky you."

Bobby joined the circle and was asked what would happen the following year, would he come back to hold the party? The general thought was he'd be too involved either in school or professionally to fly back for the holidays.

"This can't be it? We have a tradition to maintain," Vince said. "Who's going to host next year?"

A few moments silence and then Mike spoke up. "I will, even if I have to rent out the whole damn resort."

By one in the morning everyone had drifted away and Bobby led Dennis up the stairs.

"Did Mike mean that, would he rent out the resort?" Dennis asked.

Bobby nodded. "He's got more money than the rest of us combined, he owns a studio. So I figure he'll call it a business event and write it off on his taxes, rich guys do that."

"Wow, a whole studio? So how come you haven't been in any of his films?"

Bobby smiled. "That's not what this is all about. I'm not an actor; I would never ask him for something like that. I'll make my own way in this world and he'll help me if he can by opening doors and making introductions. But I have to develop my talent, my skills, and he'll know when I'm ready."

"Now I understand what you mean by good friends," Dennis said.

"Exactly."

Dennis would remember this night and the ones that followed. He had learned so much more than skiing during the holiday with Bobby. Famous people were just like everyone else, maybe a little worse off because of the expectations others had for them. It was the most restful, peaceful, and incredibly loving moment of his young life. And this was just the beginning.


On to Chapter Three

Back to Chapter One

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Exit Stage Left is © 2010 by Chris James.
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