“Sooze ought to have the afternoon off as well. We might need her to help haul your pregnant
carcass in and out of the car in case Terry and Max aren’t enough muscle.” Reags tried to smother Dee with the baby blanket she’d picked up for the heir apparent in the requisite
neutral yellow as no one yet knew the Espan baby’s gender.
“We’ll have to sit close to the exit so I don’t miss too
much of the movie running to the loo.”
“Are you trying to find reasons not to go opening day? Are you trying to sink the box office on this
one? We are necessary for opening weekend.
It’s tradition!” At Reags’ smile and disbelieving head shake, Dee knew she’d won.
“I’ll get tickets for four as soon as they come online.” Dee jumped from the couch
and offered to help the heavily pregnant Reags up. Dee's offer
was refused. “Too bad, so sad.” Dee imitated a train, steam
whistle, chugs, and all. Her arms were
the locomotion that drove the wheels.
Unfortunately, she had no cars or caboose. She did have a solitary human observer who
was laughing herself silly and four canines who looked on in disinterest as Dee had entertained them before with her antics. She amused them now but wasn’t moving fast
enough for a good game of chase.
TERRY I was appalled at the notion of seeing one of Crowe’s movies
opening day. The liability was too great
as so many of his fans would be in the theatres. With Max and me both in attendance, the odds
of our exposure were astronomical.
Max and I needed to present a united force of overwhelming
strength to dissuade Reags and Diana from this foolishness. He and I needed to talk on neutral ground.
I followed him into the coffee bar. “G’day, Max.”
“Good morning. May I
refill your cup?”
“Thanks. Yes,
please.” We leant on opposing cabinets
that line the walls. Max was wary; I
feigned nonchalance. “Has Reags
discussed our double date to see 3:10 to Yuma?”
“Yes, and it troubles me that we will attend at the height
of interest in Crowe’s new film.” Max
began to relax at the benign topic on which we faced a common difficulty.
“We’re agreed on that.
I think it will be a hit, and both of us showing up together, even in
disguise, is a disaster in the making.
Diana listened to my reasoning last night; she’ll call after her shower
this morning.” Max chuckled at Diana’s
brainstorming and decision making technique.
“Cassandra believes she would be better served to wait for
the DVD release.” Yes, I’d forgotten the
‘mummy loo run.’ “Yet she does wish to
see the New Mexican landscape on a large screen. A less crowded, smaller theatre would suit
her physical needs. I believe separate
viewings the week following the initial release would serve all parties well.”
If Max had blown off the movie for an underlying agenda, I
had a way to test for it. “Diana and
I’ll go on to an early screening on Wednesday.
After you and Reags see it, why don’t you come up for dinner?”
“That would be most acceptable. Shall we say Saturday a week?”
*
Diana bubbled over with opinions on the ride home. This was her second viewing as she had gone
opening day, claiming tradition would not allow her to stay home. She’d not spoken of the movie after her first
viewing though her need to discuss it was clear.
“I’m so glad the script for this version left the collar
straightening to Glenn Ford in the bar girl scene. That had to be his sexiest move since Gilda
or maybe his tango in The Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse.”
“How do you know so much about Ford?”
“Mom had a crush on him.
It ran in the family. Her sister
dragged her to all his movies when she was little, and Mom took me. As soon as TCM started broadcasting, his
movies were one of the few things we could share; we were such different people
in so many ways.
“This time I watched Charlie Prince’s eyes. In every scene they had the same deadly look,
like a rattler’s. Ben Foster must have
great concentration to keep it up during the entire shoot.” Diana finally stopped to take a breath. “Did you notice any dilation or contraction of the pupils in
Prince’s eyes?”
“Umm, no.”
“Cosmetic contacts, Diana.”
“Probably, but I was talking about the way he held his open
eyed look and the lack of blinks. His
eyes had to dry out.” Eventually Diana would
begin talking about Ben Wade. I was
still sorting how to tell her of my distaste for the character.
“You know when the difference between Dan and Ben came clear
for me? Dinner at the farm.”
“The civilized Dan waiting for grace to be said and the
animal way Ben attacked the meat?”
“No, no, no. Ben was
forced into the animal eating frenzy because of the cuffs. Ben’s entire face tilted up – not exactly a
smile but pleasant. Dan’s sagged as if
the weight of the world he was carrying even affected it; he just looked sour.”
“I’d have thought your main critiques might be about the
riding.”
“If I really want to enjoy a movie with horses in it, most
times I have to ignore the riding. I
wanted to enjoy this one. I may try
kissing to Jack before we move off; it may change the way I sit in the
saddle. Once I figure out how it changes
my weight aid I give him, I can cue him to what I want without the kiss – no
voice aids in the show ring.
“I only wish Crowe wouldn’t collapse on the right side of
his body; he’s such a good rider otherwise.”
She brightened. “At least I can
always pick him out of a crowd of riders and tell if he used a stunt double for
a riding scene. His stunt riders don’t
collapse on the right.
“How tall do you think the black horse Ben Wade rides is?”
“Haven’t a clue.” If
I could keep Diana talking, perhaps my comments wouldn’t be necessary.
“I read he’s 16.2 or 3.
He’s the same height Rabbit, Jack, and Buck are. Buck seems shorter because he has such a big
barrel and is so burly. “You aren’t talking much.”
“I’m waiting for you to run out of steam.”
“You’ll be waiting for a while. “You know what broke my heart? When Ben was talking about his mom leaving
him at the train station reading the Bible.
There was no emotion in his voice.
That hurt was so bad, he didn’t even want to feel it anymore. His voice was also flat after he threw McElroy
off the cliff. ‘Even bad men love their
mommas.’ Love for Ben was a
concept. He really didn’t know how to
love. Kinda like me until you started
showing me how it works.”
Stop lights are useful tools not only for traffic flow but
also for lovers to appreciate simple statements. Diana had melted the ice berg that had been
my heart long ago with her calm, caring ways.
“I reflected only what you showed me.”
DIANA Red lights when they turn green are crap when two lovers
connect over some random statement and want the moment to last. The car horn behind us certainly spoiled the
mood.
“One last thing. I
think the critics lost the end. Part of
why Ben got on the train was because some of Dan’s better qualities live on in
William. When William pulled his gun on
Ben, William could have shot him, but Dan wouldn’t have. William made a conscious choice not to shoot
Ben even after he turned to give William a better target. The smart thing for Ben to do was to offer
his profile; William would have only winged him, and he could go on with his
life.
“At the beginning, Ben looked bored with the stagecoach
robbery. I wonder if Ben wasn’t wishing
for William to kill him, a frontier version of ‘suicide by cop’ or if he was
letting William work out what kind of man he wanted to be.”
Whenever I mentioned anything remotely redeeming about the
Wade character, Terry looked disagreeable.
“You don’t like Wade much.”
Five words lanced the psychological boil that had been
building within him. “Wade has no
morals, no consideration for anyone but himself. When presented with two choices, he’ll take
the one that is easiest for him. Easy isn’t
always right. For a man stuck in Old
Testament justice, he twists it to suit what he wants. “There’s nothing I can respect about Ben Wade. He’s the direct antithesis of what I believe
– duty, honour, service. A man can’t
live for himself alone. He had the
intelligence to be successful in any endeavour he chose. He could have still provided the better
things in life he enjoys. “He never created any self-discipline. If I remember correctly, though the Old
Testament is harsh, it still teaches some respect for others.”
We sat on the front porch; Diana enjoyed the pleasant late
afternoon. I contemplated how soon we
would hear of a large armoured truck robbery that would mark Ben Wade’s entry
into our time. I’ve no doubt it will be
a Wells Fargo cash delivery. It’s the
closest to a Butterfield stage coach today.
REAGAN This was another film to recommend to my students. They can see both a classic sociopath and psychopath in action. Ben Wade as the sociopath has the ultimate confidence that
whatever he wants to happen will. The
classic sociopath is charming when it suits him to gain what he wants. He played each person’s weakest point to his
own advantage, and as a long range planner, Wade would store the knowledge
until he could use it.
Charlie Prince was the classic psychopath in that he enjoyed what he did. His torching of the stage coach with the man
inside made my blood run cold, and I’m accustomed to dealing with
psychopaths. The man kills for pleasure
as opposed to Ben Wade who kills as a matter of necessity, i.e., to accomplish
his own desired outcome. There is a qualitative difference. I glanced over at Max as we drove home from 3:10
to Yuma.
“So …what’s your take on Ben Wade?” He tilted his head in that way he has when he’s
mulling something over.
“He puts me in mind of Quintus in some ways, though his
ability to lead men exceeds Quintus’. I
believe that to be a function of his being Quintus intellectual superior.” Why does that not surprise me?
“Tell me.”
“I
think you know well enough. Quintus would do anything required to
further
his own agenda. His betrayal of me when
Commodus murdured Marcus Aurelius comes to mind. He knew me full
well enough to know I would
never take Commodus’ side but would never have rallied the troops
against
him. Commodus was now Caesar. I would have left the Army
and worked on my
own to carry out Marcus’ will, yet Quintus gave the order to
execute me. He cared not how he achieved his goals, only
that he achieved them to further his own end …the taking of my
command.”
“Point well taken. What about the intellectual bit?” “Quintus followed orders but was incapable of initiating his
own. Ben Wade was a strategist and a
very successful one. His men would
follow him into the jaws of Hell.”
“And why did your men follow you …into the jaws of
Hell?” He smiled at that.
“Ben Wade instilled fear of consequences for not following
him. I instilled confidence because I
did not ask my men to go where I would not.
Ben Wade sat on his horse on the hillside and let his men do to dirty
work; I ordered my men into battle and led the charge. I believe you know full well I bear the scars
to prove that fact.” I leant across the
console and ran my hand down his cheek.
“Indeed I do. What’s
your opinion of Charlie Prince?”
“A man
who enjoys his work of dealing death …he will kill
even though it is not required because he enjoys it. He has the
eyes of a cobra. Commodus’ were much the same.”
“Perhaps I should have you guest lecture for my classes when
we discuss antisocial personality disorder.
You do have first hand
experience with both sociopaths and psychopaths.” He slowed as he changed lanes and turned
briefly to smile at me.
“As do you, Cara, and your experience with both exceeds my
own.”
“And what of Dan Evans?”
He sighed, giving a slight shake of his head.
“A man who fits nowhere.
He had lived a lie so long he came to believe it himself, only revealing
the truth when he felt death looming. A
man who lies to his children – and possibly his wife – of a battle injury has
no pride. It mattered not how he lost
his leg; the disability was unchanged.
It was a battle wound and sustained in honour. He placed his self-import on a fabrication;
following that, nothing he did was honourable because his life following the
war was founded on his lie. Even had he
survived and secured the money Mr. Butterfield promised, he would have
failed. His dishonour would not permit
him to survive.”
My husband’s insights into human psychology amaze me. They’d amaze me even if he was a
psychologist, but for someone with no formal training? Fucking amazing. I do believe that once in a while you hit on
a ‘natural.’ I think my husband is one
of them.
“I think you’re right.
A life, relationships, anything founded on lies has to eventually blow
up in your face. Dan was in
self-destruct mode long before Ben Wade rode into his life.”
We drove the
rest of the way home in silence. I’m so glad Max told me
about Ethelinde. I don’t think he’s hiding anything
else. I’m not psychic, but I do think I’d know if
he was.
DIANA Terry and Max were parked in the lounge, watching the rugby
matches on Setanta. I maneuvered around
Reags as I put the finishing touches on dinner.
I wish she’d light somewhere, but I had to admit the tall captain’s
chairs would be difficult for her to climb up, and the simple, tall stool would
hurt her back in seconds with its lack of support. I was considering stuffing her into the
pantry; I would at least have a clear path to move within my own kitchen while
we could still talk. “I’m
glad you alerted me to the sociopath angle. I saw the switch
click in Ben’s head when he
decided to bed the barmaid.” I took the
long way from the stove to the sink as Reags blocked the direct
route. “Hmmm. That might be interesting.
‘Bed the Barmaid.’”
That made Reags laugh.
“Wasn’t the absolute belief that he’d made the decision,
therefore she would go to bed with him a delight to behold? That she might refuse him never entered his
mind.”
Reags had moved while my back was turned to her. I could take the hot pot the direct route
back to the stove. I was grateful; I
hadn’t bothered with the oven mitt, and I could continue my thought without
several ‘Ouch’es’ interspersed within my thoughts. “I think he made the decision on the first set
of shot pours two or three guys down from where he stood. The only question he had was when, and his
answer was either ‘Right here, right now, on the bar’ or in the next ten
minutes.”
We both laughed at that.
We’d each been on the receiving end of Max or Terry’s down and dirty
look. I know I sighed. I couldn’t tell if Reags had; my memory was
that consuming. I almost hated that her
voice interrupted my reverie. “I missed the scene from the trailer where William is
trailing them. ‘He’s not following
you. He’s following me.’ I’m sorry Mangold dropped it.”
“That’s an edit I can support. Ben had already been well established as the
rock star of his time from the moment William struck the match to check Mark’s breathing
and looked at the dime novel to Charlie Prince announcing the stage coach
robbery in the sheriff’s office.
Dropping William following them allowed him to sneak up on Wade. I wouldn’t have missed the eye twitch for the
world. I think it was a good trade-off.”
I dropped my
voice to a whisper. I really didn’t want Terry to hear me
talking
about the homoeroticism some of the critics had discussed.
“Speaking of Charlie Princess …. What’s your
take?”
“Oh, yeah. Charlie
was smitten, but it was only wishful thinking on his part. I can see Ben as bi-sexual at least in the
sense that he’d let Charlie blow him.
He’d never return the favour, but if Charlie’s willing for a mouthful,
Ben could always use the release.”
I had a hard time imagining Terry even experimenting with
another guy. I’ll have to be far more
sexually liberated than I am now or falling down drunk before I’ll ask him. Trust Reags to be the psychologist.
“Ben
wouldn’t see allowing Charlie to fellate him as bi- or
homosexuality. He’d have seen it as his own release and
screw any pleasure Charlie might take from the act. Often acts
that seem suspect to others truly
have no deeper meaning for us, and Ben falls into that category for
me. I have to quote Freud here …‘Sometimes a cigar
IS just a cigar.’”
