Chapter 1, Private Lives: Part V

V.

When the applause abated the announcer walked back on the stage. The three actors sat back down in their chairs, each substituting one script for another. 

The announcer said in his normal voice, “We’re glad you enjoyed our production of “Three Skeleton Key,” ladies and gentlemen. And now, we’re going to perform “The Thing on the Fourble Board,” from Quiet Please.”

A couple of black-clad supernumeraries walked on to the stage, carrying a door in a doorframe, and placed it at an angle to one side of the stage, against the scrim. A black clad woman disappeared behind the doorframe and through the scrim, carrying a handheld microphone. 

Another man, an actor, walked in and stood next to the fourth microphone.

The announcer raised a hand and then said somberly, “Quiet, please.” He paused for several seconds, then said again, “Quiet, please.”   

The audience in the ballroom, which had shown some signs of murmuring and rustling of program pages, quieted immediately.

The theme music started – haunting music, soft, quiet…unsettling. 

The announcer walked off stage noiselessly.

Nick stood up, holding the script, and gazed at the fourth man. This time he used his normal voice, but a little rough sounding, a little uneducated.

“Me, I'm a roughneck. Well, I was a roughneck, I mean, twenty years ago -- a little too old, too slow now. Besides, I got a dollar now, I don't have to be a roughneck, y'see.  Married, got a nice home. Hafta meet my wife.”

Nick turned his head toward the door and called out, “Hey, Mike!” There was no response, and he turned back to the fourth man.  “Her name's Maxine but she likes to be called Mike.” He turned his head back to the door and called out “Mike!” again. No response, so he turned back to the fourth man. 

“I guess she's busy out in the kitchen someplace. Besides, she doesn't hear very well. Shame, too -- she's so pretty and everything.  Well, you'll meet her... Sit down... "

The fourth actor sat down in the empty chair.

Nick continued.

"I was sayin' I was a roughneck...  Well, no, that doesn't mean exactly what you think it means. A roughneck is an oil field worker, specifically, a guy on a drilling crew. Call 'em roughnecks like ya call a section hand on the railroad a gandy dancer or a garage hand a grease monkey. 

Same time, you work around a drilling crew for a while, you're gonna be a roughneck in every sense of the word, boy. The  derrick floor or a fourble board's no place for a guy with a bow tie 'cause  when you have to fool around with drillin' holes that go farther down in the  ground than it is from the top of Pike's Peak down to sea level... Yeah, sure they do. Time I was a roughneck, we got this one well down to seventy-three  hundred and thirteen feet. That was a record. But last May, Pure Oil brought one in out in the Natrona Valley in Wyoming at fourteen thousand three hundred and nine feet. That, friend, is almost three miles. Quite a hole that, huh?”

Nick paused for a second. He had addressed himself to the now seated fourth man, but now he turned and seemed to be talking directly to the audience. 

 “Sure, I don't think there's an oil man in the world that don't wonder one time or another what's down there besides rock and oil and gas. Oil that's made out of trees that died twenty million years ago. Oil that's made out of dinosaur bones. Oil that's maybe... made out of the flesh and blood of men, maybe, that beat each other to death with a stone axe, ate saber tooth tiger for lunch. Yeah, you get to wondering. You look at the cores that come up from way down there and sometimes there's little shells,  trilobites mostly, that was alive when Manhattan Island, where New York is,  was under half a mile o' ice. We found somethin' once, me and Billy Gruenwald. And...something found us. I'll tell ya about it.”

Nick continued on, telling the story of what had happened 20 years ago, when he and a few other men had been drilling deep into the earth’s crust. Now the story was taking place in “real time,” and there was dialog between Nick’s character, Porky, and his fellow roughneck Billy. As each new character was introduced, the actor stood up at his microphone and was spotlighted.

Nick had the majority of the dialog in the scenes, each of the other three actors, although amateurs, nevertheless were doing a fine job, Tracy thought, watching and listening to them critically. After each of the actors had said his last piece of dialog he walked quietly off stage, until finally only Nick and the fourth man were left.

Then came the climax.

“And there it was... “ said Nick, as he told how he came to find the thing on the fourble board. An unearthly sound came from behind the door, an alien, cat-like, crying noise.

“And I wish I-- I wish...” continued Nick. “The face of a little girl, frightened. Crying with hunger and terror. Hands like a human being. And a finger... missing from the left hand.  [The roughnecks had found a stone finger on the fourble board earlier in the episode.]

And a body... Well, I'll tell you about that. I told you how I'm scared of spiders. But I knew where it came from.  It'd come from the bowels of the earth, come riding up on the drill pipe as we yanked it out of the well. Come to an alien world. And was lost. It stood  there dripping with red paint, blood-red from head to foot, like some horrible dream. And it put its hand on my arm. Its hand was stone. Living, moving stone. And it looked into my eyes. And mewed like a lost kitten.

Twenty years ago. I discovered many things about it: what it used for food; that it was deaf; that it was invisible and couldn't see people when it was invisible; that if you sprayed it with mud or paint or greasepaint -- make-up -- then it could see people. And, believe me, I didn't want to see its body -- I can see that in my nightmares. But its face... I can't help wanting to see that pathetic, little girl face. I'm afraid maybe I've fallen-- Ah, but it's very beautiful. And when it's well made-up, it's... But making it up, rubbing greasepaint on a stone face that looks at ya and smiles and it makes sounds like a lost kitten yet. I can disguise the body in long dresses. She can't hear very well and when she's hungry, I have to stay out of her way. I found out what she likes to eat, remember?”

Nick thrust out a hand at the fourth man who's face had turned to a mask of terror and who had started to get up. “No, no, sit still,” he said firmly. Then “Sit still, do.” And then, very harshly, “Sit still or I'll have to shoot you.” He paused for a long time, and not a sound came from the audience.

“I want you to meet my wife. Or rather... my wife wants to meet you.” He raised his voice then. “Mike? Mike?”

The door opened, outward.

Nick gazed into the opening, lovingly.

 “There she is.”

The catlike crying noise, and somehow now it sounded hungry as well as helpless, rose.

“Come in, dear,” Nick said.

And the lights went out as the theme music rose again.

The lights came on again and the entire audience rose to its feet as they applauded. The three actors who had walked off walked back on along with the announcer, to join Nick and the unfortunate fourth man.  The woman behind the door, who had provided the unearthly mewling, came out and joined the others. Smiling, the actors gripped hands again and soaked in the applause. Then they bowed and filed off the stage until only the announcer was left.

“Thanks very much, everyone,” he said. “We’re glad you liked our re-enactments. And we’d like to thank our special guest-star, Nick Belfour – star of The Coldest Equations.”

More applause.

“We’ve set up a table for Mr. Belfour in the Foxfire Room, and he’ll be signing autographs for a couple of hours. And don’t forget to visit our dealer’s tables. There’s also still a couple of panels going – Music’s influence on the atmosphere of radio, and women’s adventure radio programs.”

Tracy sat quietly while the rest of the audience stood up, milled around, and finally emptied out of the room. She listened to the various scraps of conversation as people filed past her. It seemed that everyone had enjoyed the shows, and Nick certainly had impressed.

Well, she had been impressed, too, in particular with Nick. In his role as Mr. White he was never given the opportunity to show any fear…his character was one of strength and power, leavened by a bit of a sense of humor, and she’d never heard his voice the way she’d heard it in these two performances, the echoes of terror and panic, just below the surface, but controlled as if by a great effort of will. She’d been impressed with his vocal dexterity.  His facial expressions had been pretty convincing, too. You couldn’t sound like you were afraid without twisting your face up to show fear as well. Indeed, your whole body had to embrace the fear – and the actors had certainly done that.

She’d enjoyed the performances very much.

She’d even enjoyed the stories – as a matter of fact, she might even seek out the Vincent Price versions of “Three Skeleton Key”…hell, she would. They were bound to have them in the Dealer’s Room.

As Tracy browsed through the Dealer’s Room again, she thought briefly of getting in line to get an autograph from Nick, and once she’d reached his table, pulling him up and kissing him thoroughly, but then thought against it. It would give the fans a treat…well, it might give them a treat, she amended…and if they were still “just friends” she might do it. But now they were in a relationship, she didn’t want to give any other women in the audience the idea that they could get a kiss for an autograph! 

But she toyed with the idea of asking him to call her Mike from now on…and perhaps she'd meow a few times from now on while they were making love…

 __________________

Author's note: Yes, I am a fan of old time radio, and Vincent Price's work in the medium, especially "Three Skeleton Key." I also love Quiet Please which starred Ernest Chappell who played a different lead character each week, and had a voice almost as great as Price's. 

Take a look at these great sites:

http://www.quietplease.org/

http://www.sperdvac.org/

Until 2011 there was an annual Old Time Radio Convention, and actors from many of the old programs would appear and do re-enactments and talk to fans. Unfortunately time marches on and those actors are no longer with us, but their work lives on in cassettes and CDs and I urge all my readers to check out this great material.

Chapter 1: Private Lives Part I continued...

Nick grinned without taking his eyes off the road. "It’s a catwalk on an oil derrick."

"And what’s the thing on it?"  "Now, I can’t tell you that. You’ll just have to watch...and listen."  Tracy returned his smile, but inwardly she was gritting her teeth. What one wouldn’t do for love. She disliked horror stories, and it was obvious that both "Three Skeleton Key" and "The Thing on the Fourble Board" were in that genre. If it weren’t that Nick had starring roles in both of them, you couldn’t have paid her to watch them. Even if they were only radio. Or in this case, a few guys standing in front of microphones, reading from scripts, in front of an appreciative audience.  Tracy now started to mimic Orson Welles’ voice as well, trying to take her vocal register way down. Soon she was mimicking everyone who had a speaking role in each of the episodes, repeating their lines just after they said them, and often as not talking over the next person’s lines. It was driving Nick crazy, but he too thought, "What one doesn’t do for love." Nick had been to the Hotel Waverly before, so when they reached the outskirts of Frederick he took the appropriate exits and within minutes they pulled into the hotel parking lot. It was jam-packed, as was the adjacent street. Tracy smiled inwardly. It seemed like Nick’s fans were going to be out in force today. "I don’t see any place to park," Tracy observed. "Oh, I’m not going to park here. I’m just going to drop you off. There’s another parking lot down the block reserved for guests of the convention."  Nick drove to a far corner of the parking lot to let her out.  He gave her a kiss and said cheerfully, "Enjoy yourself, Blondie." Tracy popped a set of false caps over her own teeth – not only giving her a slightly bucktooth appearance but also altering the shape of her mouth and jaw, and said, "I will." Normally she didn’t go to quite this extreme in her off-screen exercises, but since this hotel's meeting rooms and ballroom - all reserved for the convention - were bound to be full of fans of The Coldest Equations she had thought it best to bring along a bit more insurance to make sure there could be no possibility of her being recognized.  She waited until Nick's car was heading back toward the entrance of the parking lot before she began her long, slow walk to the entrance of the hotel.  Nick drove out of this parking lot and along the street to one that was reserved. A parking attendant there gave him an astonished look and then asked for his autograph, which Nick obligingly gave.  Stragglers were walking along the sidewalk toward the hotel, and Nick wondered if they were all going there to attend the OTR convention. He walked briskly so that he overtook everyone and left them behind. Occasionally he’d hear a sharp intake of breath as if someone had recognized him. He entered the hotel lobby and saw the large placards advertising the convention. On one of them his headshot was prominently displayed, along with the announcement that he, Nicholas Belfour, was the Special Guest Star who would be appearing in the re-enactments of the classic radio episodes "Three Skeleton Key" and "The Thing on the Fourble Board." Nick stopped by one of the red-shirted convention Gofers and asked for directions to the "green room," where the convention’s guests always gathered before heading out to their various meeting rooms or autograph tables.  The Gofer looked up at Nick, a light of recognition showed in his eyes, and in a squeaky voice he gave directions. Nick gave the kid a thrill by shaking his hand and then carried on to his destination.

Chapter 1: Private Lives Part I continued...

The car ate up the miles, while Nick and Tracy sat in companionable silence. Well, they were silent – Nick was concentrating on the road and Tracy was concentrating on her puzzles, occasionally sneaking glances at the solutions in the back of the book.  

But Nick had put one of his OTR discs in the CD player and they were being regaled by the vocal tones of Orson Welles and Agnes Moorehead in such classic episodes of The Shadow as “The Temple Bells of Neban” and “Murder on Approval.”

Presently Tracy closed her puzzle book and began attempting to imitate Moorehead’s delivery. Nick smiled occasionally as she hit a line perfectly. He’d always been impressed by her ability to mimic someone after only a few minutes. He could do accents, too, but it took him a couple of months study to get it down pat. Tracy could do any accent, any voice, in a ridiculously short amount of time.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do one of the radio reenactments?” he asked. “Patrick and Diana would be ecstatic if we were to do a surprise performance together... or you could do a solo episode. Agnes Moorehead’s classic role, “Sorry, Wrong Number.”

 “Barbara Stanwyck,” Tracy corrected absently.

 “No, you’re thinking of the movie version. But before it was a movie it was a radio play. Agnes Moorehead played the role. It was such a hit with audiences that I think she reprised the role eight years in a row.”

 “Wow.”

“I’m sure Patrick and Diana would have access to the script- they could download it from the internet if nothing else.”

"Well...even if they did...I couldn't do it today. Without a rehearsal?"

"That's why actors used to like old time radio so much," Nick pointed out. "You get to read right off the script. You don't really need to do any rehearsing - at least not if you're going to do a single act."

“I suppose it might be fun,” Tracy said reluctantly, “and maybe it's something I could think about doing next year. but really, Nick, I just want to keep a low profile today. I’m nervous about the premier episode tonight.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Nick said confidently, with a wave of his hand. “This season’s episodes are fantastic, and the fans will love it. You know they will.”

Tracy smiled. “I hope so. But still, I can't help but be a little nervous. So I just want to wander around and take in the sights and sounds, and see just what goes on in one of these radio re-enactments. I have never seen one, as you know.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat, if I do say so myself.”

Tracy hadn’t known of Nick’s fondness for old time radio until he had told her of the invitation from Patrick and Diana - the organizers of the convention - to appear and star in a couple of re-enactments of radio episodes, and had invited her to come along.

Tracy glanced across at Nick now, concentrating on the road. Then she glanced into the back seat. Nick had been sent an advance copy of the program. Tracy reached back to grab it, opened it up, and read the introduction curiously.

On September 30, 1962, radio drama died in the United States, with the airing of the last episode of the anthology series Suspense, and the last episode of the tales of the insurance investigator Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar.

For over 20 years, from the 30s to the 50s, American audiences had been entertained by a variety of genres: comedy such as The Jack Benny Show, The Bickersons, The Burns and Allen Show and Fibber McGee and Molly.

Mystery shows featured both police dramas like Dragnet and the Black Museum, and private detectives such as The Fat Man, The Saint, and The Shadow.

Westerns were quite popular – Gunsmoke and Have Gun, Will Travel were particular favorites. Science fiction shows included X Minus One and Dimension X, as well as children’s shows such as Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon.

Television started to gain a foothold on the American psyche in the 1950s, as the comedians like Jack Benny, Red Skelton, and George Burns and Gracie Allen abandoned radio for the magic box. 

By 1962, only two radio series, both dramas, were left, and when they were gone, there was no more national radio in the United States.

Interest in the form was revived in the late 1970s, when various radio stations around the country started airing the old shows – in particular the classic The Shadow.  A few years later, nostalgia conventions were organized and the old-time actors were invited to attend and share their memories.

These conventions were usually on the East Coast – in New York and Maryland – and were very popular for over 30 years.

But time and tide wait for no man and by 2012, most of the actors who had worked in these classic shows had passed away, and the many generations of their fans had also aged and in some cases passed on.

The conventions still continue, however, but the interview panels were now manned (and womened), by folks who had written books on the classic shows, or who had known the actors, or who were attempting to bring back radio drama on the national stage. And the radio shows are now re-enacted not by their original participants but by talented amateurs and aspiring professionals who share a love of this art form.

For this year's Old Time Radio convention, the organizers have scored a tremendous coup. Nick Belfour, one of the stars of the popular science fiction TV series The Coldest Equations, will perform in two reenactments on Monday, the last day of the convention. He will play the lead in the classic Suspense episode, “Three Skeleton Key,” and in the most famous Quiet Please episode, “The Thing on the Fourble Board.”

Tracy closed the program.

“What the heck is a fourble board?” she demanded.