“Oh, I did my share of those,” Terrance admitted, smiling, but he had been younger, and he sure as hell hoped he never again did another film where the flying saucers were those Wham-O Frisbees.
“And then there are the poachers out there. Killing elephants and rhinos. That must further deflate a fellow like Patton. They’re doing it illegally and without proper, I don’t know, respect for the animals.”
“So, how do you think he’ll treat us?”
“Patton? Oh, I suppose just fine. We’re paying guests. Well, Katie’s his paying guest. But you see my point. He’s been reading the writing on the wall for years.”
“And his staff will all be Black? Even now?”
“I think so. Maybe an Indian or two, but I doubt it.”
“I don’t imagine he’s had a lot of Black clients,” Terrance mused.
“Probably not,” Peter agreed. “But you’re American, and you’re with a party paying him big dollars. He won’t mistake you for a porter.”
The words hung there again, and Terrance restrained his desire to snap at the agent for what the other man clearly supposed was a harmless joke—tell him there was nothing funny about a remark like that. But he didn’t because Merrick hadn’t meant anything by it. He may even have thought he was being reassuring. Besides, Terrance was going to be traveling with him for the next week and a half. And Peter Merrick was a powerful man in La-La Land. He pulled strings that Terrance understood he would never see: he had to be careful. For all he knew, someday he might need or want Merrick to represent him. Actors changed representation all the time. So, he kept his irritation with the porter remark to himself. He hadn’t climbed this high on the Hollywood ladder by being combative over the things that, in the end, didn’t matter. He picked his fights carefully.
“I suppose Patton grew up in Tanganyika?” Terrance asked instead.
“Kenya. Big estate outside Nairobi. A lot of native help and farmworkers.”
“Native help and farmworkers. This just gets better and better.” Terrance chuckled when he said it, so he could make his point about the baggage that accompanied an expression like native help, but not offend Peter.
Still, the agent turned to look him squarely in the eye. “I have just biased you completely and needlessly against the man. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. You might like him. I might like him. I sure as hell hope we both do. I don’t know him, but I promise you, Terrance, whatever faults and prejudices Charlie Patton has, he’s not Bull Connor.”
“Good to know. I’d hate to think our host is going to turn the fire hoses on me—or unleash the police dogs.”
“Just the opposite. I got the sense from one of Patton’s letters that if he were a mercenary sort, he’d be fighting in Stanleyville.”
“For or against the Simbas?”
“Oh, against. He’s as capitalist as all the colonials. But he’s smart and, I honestly believe, decent. Or decent enough. At this point, he wants Africa for Africans. Isn’t that one side’s slogan? He just wants to be sure that whoever’s running the place has a good old-fashioned Western infrastructure in place. None of this communist nonsense.”
“The right alliances. NATO. America.”
“Or, perhaps, General Motors. U.S. Steel. Esso. You know—those alliances.”
“Got it.”
“At least that’s how I read the man,” Peter said. “And Katie and David have liked corresponding with him.” The bartender had refilled his glass, and he took a sip.
“I didn’t realize David helped organize this.”
“Oh, David is very good at spending Katie’s money.”
Terrance heard the edge in the other man’s voice. It surprised him, but only a little: Peter Merrick was known for his honesty, his candor, and for refusing, under any circumstances, to put up with anyone’s bullshit. “He was the one who connected me with Patton so I could set up my little expedition after you all head home,” the agent continued.
Terrance glanced over his shoulder at the table with the foursome to make absolutely sure that they couldn’t hear the conversation at the bar. They were laughing at something, oblivious to Peter and him. “I couldn’t help but notice a little something in your tone—about David and how comfortable he is dishing out Katie’s money.”
“It was just an observation. She’s the breadwinner in that couple and he’s fine with that.”