The Facade

Chapter 30

We all gathered at the dinner table together. Marlon was now wearing a white t-shirt which he covered with a dark blue blazer and slacks. Celia and Norman sat on one side of the table while Marlon, Eula and I sat on the other side. Marlon was wedged exactly between Eula an. In my mind, I convinced myself that she made sure to get a seat next to Marlon.

My bitter thoughts were interrupted as Celia invited us to say grace. She instructed us to hold each other's hands, for those few moments there was no room for negative thoughts.

"Who will volunteer to lead us in prayer?" Celia smiled as she looked around the table. We all laughed and looked at one another, waiting for someone to take the role.

"How about Marlon?" Eula smiled at him. "I'd love to hear his take on grace."

Marlon seemed uncomfortable with the task pushed onto him, but he accepted it humbly. After clearing his throat, he took the hands of both Eula and I. My other hand held onto Celia and she then held Norman's hand. All of our heads bowed and our eyes shut.

"Lord, thank you for blessing us with this heavenly food." Marlon began his grace with a strong voice. He was used to his many monologues on stage, and he treated this prayer just like one. It was delivered with an undoubtable ease and his pronunciations were crisp and clear. In the middle of his prayerful performance, he paused.

I opened one of my eyes and peaked at him, only to find Eula's hand on his thigh. As Marlon progressed through his prayer, she only continued to grope him. "Amen." He quickly said, grabbing her wrist under the table. She wore a big smile, then looked toward the food dishes being opened.

"I'm so thankful you stopped by Marlon, and especially for such a special reason!" Norman smiled as we filled our plates. "It was an honor to have you choose our home to spend your honeymoon."

"It's no problem." Marlon's nostrils flared. I could tell that his conscience was bothering him at this moment. He knew in his heart that this was all a lie. Celia and Norman were genuinely good people, but he was pulling the wool over their eyes.

"Cool beans, daddio." Norman laughed out in a desperate attempt to sound youthful. Then, he winked at Marlon as if he too engaged in that jargon. That led Marlon to giving me a look of embarrassment for Norman.

"This food is delicious." Marlon complimented, trying to smooth over the awkward moment. "I've never enjoyed a meal so much until now."

"It was your wife who helped me." Celia told Marlon. With a grin, Marlon looked to me happily.

"You made this?" Marlon's dimple appeared as he grinned, pointing his fork at his food.

"Oh come on, don't act like you haven't had my food before..." I rolled my eyes with a smile.

"I know but usually you give me a little snack this is practically gourmet..." Marlon complimented once again. You shouldn't get used to it, Brando. His full lips leaned closer to my ear. "Everyday I'm learning something new about you, Rose."

"Too bad she won't be able to cook for you much." Eula quickly changed the subject, she couldn't stand to see Marlon impressed with me. "Marlon was telling me how you have a big city job. Isn't that right, Marlon?"

"Yes, I'm a journalist for The Post." I confirmed.

"Are you? Well you didn't say that in your little press conference." Eula leaned so she could look at me sitting on the other side of Marlon.

"We didn't want to share th... you read that?" I asked in a high pitched voice. "Nice to know you're up to date on our public affairs."

"It's everywhere, the scandal of Marlon Brando marrying a negro. How could you not read about it?" Eula said in a irreverent tone.

Before I could scathe her with my words, Marlon placed a hand on my knee under the table. His eyes looked to me, attempting to calm me. Then, he spoke up.

"Hey." Marlon finally intervened in the conversation. "That's my wife you're talking to. How about you show some respect, Eula?"

"I don't understand you, Marlon. Respect? You're the last person who should be talking about respect!" Eula cried out.

"What are you talking about!" Marlon's jaw clenched as he sat up straight in his seat. His fingers became white as he gripped his fork harder.

"You said you'd come back. Instead you went to that city never to return. You said we'd get married!" Eula said tensely.

"Eula I never promised to marry you." Marlon's jaw clenched. "I'll admit, I did say I'd come back for you. I'd say those things to a lot of women. But now I met one who I'm serious about and I care about."

If I didn't know better, I'd think Marlon's words were true. He had a way of making people believe anything he said. The sway he had over people was almost magical.

"You cared about me!" Eula shouted.

"Eula!" Celia shouted at her daughter, but Eula only continued.

"You said you cared about me when you made love to me under that tree by the guest house!" Eula shouted out, her face red and irritated. Her eyes began to get red from the tears coming down.

Marlon rolled his tongue against his cheek, glimpsing over at Eula's parents. They both looked shocked. "Eula, you've been had?" Norman asked.

"Yes." Eula said with spite in her voice. "The boy you both trusted so well was having your daughter all over the guest house!"

Marlon's hand gripped his jaw, he didn't know what to say. His eyes were on his plate, but he didn't care to eat. Eula continued on airing out all that she and Marlon had done. It was like a record that couldn't be stopped. It got to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. He placed the napkin that was on his lap on the table, then looked to me. "I'm sorry, Rose."

Marlon stood up, buttoned his blazer then exited the dining room. I still sat at the table, wondering if I should go after Marlon or not. Eula still went on about nonsense. She had a determination to taint Marlon's reputation.

I stood up walked out into the hall. As I walked down the hallway, I looked in each room looking for Marlon. My feet stopped at the sight of him in the library. He held a brass figure of the globe in the palm of his hand.

Slowly, I walked in with crossed arms. "You okay?"

Marlon looked up at me, his facial expression tense and his body language was closed off. He leaned on the desk behind him, rotating the globe that rested on his fingers.

"When I was a boy, my life was..." Marlon could barely get out the words. He exhaled, then wiped his face with his sleeve. Was that a tear I saw? "Well, my mother was a drunk. It was real bad too. I used to act to distract my mother from picking up another bottle. That was the only escape either of us had from reality."

"Where was your dad?" I dared to ask.

He chuckled. "Off doing the same thing. Drinking. Even gambling. Everything but being a father to me."

He slowly shook his head, squeezing the brass sphere in the palm of his hand. "And my mother... oh god my mother. How she'd laugh at the shows I used to put on for her. And I'll I'd wonder is if I could hide the whiskey bottle from her while I pretend I'm Astaire himself."

"It wasn't fair." I told him with crossed arms. "It's not fair for any child to go through that."

He rolled his bloodshot eyes, then grinned as if he wasn't holding back tears. "Life's not fair."

"It's ironic that of all occupations you'd decide to act." I spoke softly. "All things considered."

"Acting is the reason I'm alive today, Rose. It saved my life." Marlon continued to look at the tiny globe that he held in his hand. "It's the only way I know how to deal with things."