It Happened One Knife Read Online Free PDF Page B

great job on Singin’ in the Rain ,” he said.
    My father has the same name as a legendary producer of musicals who worked at MGM in the 1940s and 50s, and Lillis probably didn’t expect us to know that. “Thanks,” Dad said. “Although that Debbie Reynolds was a pain in the ass.”
    Lillis laughed loudly and put his arm around my father’s shoulder. Together, they looked like the cast of Laurel and Hardy Celebrate Rosh Hashanah. Lillis started to lead my father out of the room.
    “I understand you want to show some of my pictures in your theatre, Arthur,” he started. “That shows incredibly good taste on your part.”
    They were almost to the door, and I was still feeling like my shoes had been nailed to the floor. I couldn’t even turn to face them.
    “Not me,” I heard Dad say. “It’s my son who owns the theatre.” He must have turned toward me. “Elliot!”
    I gathered all of my strength and I concentrated on moving my legs. Finally, after a disgusting amount of time, I turned and walked to the door of the dining room, where my father was standing with a comedy legend. I stuck out my hand again.
    “Mr. Lillis,” I said very slowly. “I’m very honored, and I’m very nervous.”
    This time, Lillis took my hand, and spoke softly. “Don’t worry, son,” he said. “You’re right to be.”
    “Honored, or nervous?”
    “Both.”
    We accompanied Lillis to his room, where Walt said we could have more privacy, and “Mr. Lillis can be more comfortable. ” (Lillis responded, “If I were more comfortable, I’d be living in a place with better carpets.”) Then Walt excused himself, and we sat down. Lillis sat on his bed, of which he said, “A single, damn it,” and Dad and I took the chairs that were next to his desk. For all the world, you would have thought Lillis was living in a dorm room at some slightly upscale college.
    “This place is as much fun as a mortuary,” Lillis began, unprompted. “They all sit around all day and tell me about”—and here, he affected an upper-crust accent that would have fooled Thurston Howell III—“ the thea-tah , and how grand it all was, you know. Nobody from my business, the picture business, no comics, just ac-tors . I’m glad to see a couple of guys who appreciate the art of it.” And then, just because he couldn’t resist, “Even if it has to be the two of you.”
    “I think you’d appreciate Comedy Tonight,” I told Lillis. I had regained the power of thought during the walk to his room. “I show a classic comedy, and a new one, every week. Laurel and Hardy, W. C. Fields, the Marx Brothers . . .”
    “The Marx Brothers were the ones who knew how to do it right,” Lillis said. “They didn’t ask you to feel sorry for them. They did what they wanted, and dared you to say they shouldn’t. You never see comedy like that anymore.”
    “You did it,” I told him. “You and Mr. Townes.”
    Lillis suddenly affected a very interesting, if hard to identify, expression. His eyes got a little dreamy, but his mouth twisted into a sneer. It was as if he were remembering an unusually happy moment in which he was horribly insulted.
    “ Mr. Townes ,” he said, “doesn’t get the respect he deserves. Les wasn’t just a great straight man. He could do the joke. He could fall on the banana peel and land the right way. I got the headlines because I was the goofy-looking Jew and I had all the smart remarks, but Les . . . Les was a genius.”
    “I’m told you guys might be making a comeback.” I sent out a trial balloon.
    Lillis’s eyes focused in a nanosecond. “Who told you that?”
    “Vic Testalone,” I reminded him. “The man who came up to talk about renting some older movies here.”
    “Testalone . . . Testalone . . .” Lillis said, trying to place the name. He snapped his fingers. “I got it: Short? Not so thin? Looks like a beach ball smoking a cigar?”
    I grinned, and Dad nodded. “That’s him.”
    “Yeah, I told him about it.