Everybody Play the Game!

Chapter 1

Moor Island, Indian Ocean, below Australia, Late April, 2022

The night came quickly but Doctor Morty Ponderosa was fully awake. The old man knew these letters that were making his old, shaking hands ache had to get done by the morning. The mail would be here at eight AM, and he knew that it was going to take at least another hour to write these up. It had to be done tonight. The graying old man heard a knock at his door. At first, it was faint, and he had to adjust his hearing aid. The next time he heard the knock, it was thundering and it nearly gave the tall man a heart attack.

"Come in!" he exclaimed, the hint of his hometown accent coming through, as if he'd never left Brooklyn.

The door opened and the doctor knew exactly who it was. He listened to the footsteps, knowing it wasn't his son or his grandson or one of his servants. His wife held the candle holder in his pale hand, the light brightening her aging face. Even if she was almost seventy, Maggie was still a goddess in her husband's eyes. The silver nightgown matched her hair, which flowed elegantly in the moonlight. When she approached her husband, a chill was sent down his spine. At this, he was alright. He looked up at his wife, still clinging to his fountain pen. They exchanged a quick smile before the old man went back to his letter.

"Who's this for?" The Aussie asked, one hand on his shoulder.

"This one is for...Paul."

"There are hundreds of celebrities named Paul, Morty," she sighed," Which one? Sir Paul McCartney? Paul Giamatti? Newman?"

"Paul Newman's been dead for thirteen years," Morty signed the letter," This one's for a Mr. Paul Rudd."

He handed Maggie the letter to read to herself. She went through the invitation, scanning her husband's words and thought process. He had always been one to charm people with his writing, so it shouldn't have been a problem to get the group to come to the island. She flipped through the already written letters, counting fifty (fifty one once she added Paul's). Her husband had thirteen more letters to go, but starting the next letter was a chore. She encouraged her husband to take five minutes for himself, but he insisted it had to be done tonight. Though she disapproved, she found it better not to argue.

"Did you invite anyone else besides the famous?" She asked.

"Yeah," Morty nodded,"I invited six interns and some chick from the Internet. Guess she's pretty famous according to Harley. We gotta give the less famous a chance at this, right?"

Maggie nodded as she gathered what letters were written and walked to the basket by the window. She placed them in and sat by the window. The island was so beautiful when the moon was out and the cool breeze swept across the fields, around the mansion and back to the ocean. She hated to think that she could lose it all, but she knew that the family could not live on the island anymore. She turned to her husband, whose age was overwhelming him and how going far away would be helpful. He finished his next letter and handed it to his wife. He could see her thoughts were racing again and he chose not to ignore it. He could never leave his wife feeling distressed or confused.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked.

"My dear," Morty slid over and took her hands,"This will work. I promise. I know this seems weird, but I know Hollywood and, if there's one thing I remember, they will always play the game. If they thought their lives depended on it."

Maggie smiled, though she thought making it sound like their lives depend on it was cruel. As much as she liked to tease and have fun, she found there was a limit to that. She didn't want anyone to feel like they were going to die if they screwed up. Then again, Morty just liked to have fun. Maggie asked if he needed help, but Morty refused.