Modern Screen (Dec 1947 - Nov 1948)

ffello, Mss. . er. . Smith ' to say . . . Now it's ni Goiyeous he used to say JUST USE NESTLE COLORINSEI It gives your hair the lovely glowing color that makes you look "alive". Not a permanent dye or a bleach . . . easy and absolutely safe to use. Try it —you'll be thrilled at the new beauty of your hair. 84 CP HAVE THE WHOLE FAMILY use Nestle Hfi Creme Shampoo— the wonderful new lanolin Q creme shampoo in a tube. They'll love It. lOe, "'O 25c, 53c at all toilet goods counters. said, "In a few weeks." "That's the way it is about the phone," Janie said, in further explanation. "But you could give me a call at the studio. I'm on a picture. How about that?" "Mmmm," he said, dubious. You called the studio, you went through thirteen secretaries, you got the stage, someone said, "Sorry, the red light's on." You waited. Next time the one set phone was busy. He knew that routine. "I'll try," he said. On Friday afternoon, she had all but forgotten the incident. (Not quite, of course: you do not entirely forget first important moments.) As a matter of fact, she was in her dressing-room collecting the things she wanted to take home for the weekend, when an assistant director came up to the door and said, "Telephone, Janie." Tommy was very nice about the car, in his diffident, almost shy way. It was a Chrysler convertible of ancient vintage, which he'd had before the war and somehow managed to hang onto all through his service. When he brought her up to it, at the curb in front of her house, he said, "If you'll wait just a minute — " and then proceeded to spend a minute and a half untying the knot in a sturdy section of clothes line. As the knot gave, finally, the door sprang loose and fell into the street. breakaway jalopy . . . "Oops!" he said. "I forgot to hang on to the back part." He retrieved the door. She got in. He put the door back, and tied it. "We're off," he told her, and for a minute or two they drove in anything but silence, although neither spoke a word. Janie giggled. "You've gone five blocks and you're still in second." After a moment's pained pause he said, "We're in high. It was second we started in. Low doesn't work." Eight blocks later he said, "You should have brought a scarf for your hair. It's kind of blowing." "We might put up the top, then." He didn't answer that. She said finally, "I'll help." "I can put it up myself. Only there's just half a top. The rest is ripped. You get a worse draft when it's up." She began to laugh. "I'm happy. And I can comb my hair at the dance." She had never meant anything more sincerely in her life. After the Hollywood boys she was used to, Tommy was like someone from another world. He said he'd finished all his premed training, and quite simply had decided that being a doctor was too hard a row for him to hoe. "Besides," he explained, "it's getting so everyone specializes, and that takes even longer. I'm twenty-one now. My gosh, I'd be an old man before I ever got anywhere." So he was getting his degree in entomology— which he'd probably never have occasion to use — and helping out his current income by assisting a professor of physiology. "Sounds like a lot of studying," Jane said. "Dorsal aortas, and all." He looked at her in surprise. They were sitting out a dance in the lounge, having a coke. "What do you know about dorsal aortas?" "I took zoo. The dorsal aorta is just back of the post caval vein, and where would your renal arteries get off without it? Now ask me about malphygian corpuscles." "I'm convinced you have a brain," he said, "so let's dance. For aortas and corpuscles, I have Doctor Beers. For fun and . dancing, I have you. Come on." That night, when he took her home, it seemed perfectly natural that, after raiding the icebox and eating cold lamb sandwiches, he should kiss her goodnight at the door. The first time he came to dinner, he arrived by way of the garden and the back door. "I don't usually do this when I visit people's houses," he said, "but there was a slight obstruction called a skunk sitting on your front porch. Maybe it will go away." "Indeed," Jane said, "it will not." She went to the front door and opened it, and the skunk, tail high, came mincing in. "Oh, now look here," Tommy said. "This is Scent of Jasmine, called Jazzie for short," said Jane. "Certain alterations have been made and she hasn't any fight left in her. How about a swim before dinner?" They went dancing at the Florentine Gardens that evening, and when they got the car from the parking lot Janie slid under the steering wheel, from his side. They drove out into the street, stopped at the red light, and the door fell off. While impatient horns behind them grew more insistent, Tommy got out. "Oh Lord," he said finally. "The rope's busted." "Well, throw the door in the back and we'll go on without it." "Too dangerous for you," he shouted above the deafening horns. From the turtleback, he brought an enormous tenfoot chain, meant for towing purposes. He secured the door with that, and they drove on at last, clanking like Scrooge. After that Tommy had no alternative but to wire the door permanently shut. When in formal evening dress, Janie walked around and slid under the wheel. When in slacks, she learned to climb cheerfully over her own side. two lives have i . . . The spring wore on, and became summer, and Janie had two lives. One was at the studio, working like mad, clowning with the enchanting Iturbi, practicing her music. The other was the gay college social whirl, always with Tommy. They danced. They sat around bonfires on the beach, and ate charred hot dogs. They drove for hours along the coast, watching the moon. Once, at breakfast, Mrs. Powell said rather anxiously to her daughter, "But you don't see so many of your old friends any more. Just these college people. Don't you miss the kids who are in pictures?" "I like it this way," Janie said. She brandished a slice of toast for emphasis. "Don't you see? I'll never be able to have the experience of going to college, and this is the nearest thing to it. "Besides — I like to be where Tommy is." "He's pretty important to you, isn't he?" Jane did not look coy. She said firmly, "He is very important to me." But her mother's remark remained in her mind, and later that week when Jose Iturbi's niece invited her to a swimming party at Jose's Beverly Hills house, she accepted for herself and Tommy. They had a wonderful afternoon at the pool, be1 cause a heat wave had set in; they had a barbecue for dinner; a party developed afterward, and they danced until midnight. Then, tired but contented, they set out for Janie's house in the Valley. Coldwater Canyon winds for a long way up over the mountains, and halfway up the road, empty of traffic except for their car, the radiator cap blew off, the motor ut' tered a few indignant burps, and froze. "I guess it was letting the old girl sit out in that blazing sun all day," Tommy, said ruefully. "All the water must've evaporated out of the radiator. Shall we start back to Beverly?" "That doesn't make sense. Let's go on