Mama Sees Stars

Maddie patted my face with relief. “He’s not nearly as big as he looks in the movies. If anything, you probably hurt him.’’

“Well, not permanently,’’ I said with a smile.

“I’m just happy to hear you took care of it,’’ Sava

“Oh, it wasn’t his face.’’ I told them what Tilton had done, and how certain he’d seemed that I’d be willing to play along. “I kicked his butt, and left him sprawled in a patch of poison ivy.’’

“Well, I’d say that’s right where he belongs, honey. Not that I approve of violence, but you had every right,’’ Mama said. “See if I ever ask him for his autograph!’’

Sava

I thanked her, and then asked, “When I first walked up, you said ‘I told you so.’ What did you mean?’’

She brushed back a thick lock of her graying hair. She really was pretty. She had Meryl Streep’s dignity, crossed with the perky Southern charm of Reese Witherspoon.

“Your mama had gone off to the little girl’s room when I sat down, but your sisters told me Greg followed you off into the woods. I had a bad feeling …’’

Marty said, “… and you were right.’’

Sava

“Is that personal experience talking?’’ I asked.

She cast her eyes down, her long lashes feathery against milky skin. Her voice was a whisper. “I’m not the only one.’’

Mama put a hand on Sava

Maddie said, “How come we’ve never read about this side of Greg Tilton in People magazine?’’

Sava

Marty shook her head. “That’s not right. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.’’

Sava

“How old was he?’’ Mama asked.

“Four or five when his mom sold him.’’

“Old enough to realize what happened,’’ I said.

“I can see how he might want to feel loved,’’ Marty said.

Maddie balled her fists and rubbed pretend tears from her eyes. “Oh, boo-hoo-hoo. None of that gives him the right to go forcing himself on women who aren’t interested in ‘loving’ him. He’s not the only person in the world who had it tough as a kid. A troubled childhood excuses nothing.’’

Sava

When it comes to the word no, I was finding out that Hollywood people are a lot like spoiled toddlers, screaming for more in the checkout line at Toys “R’’ Us.

_____

Nerves always stimulate my bladder, so it was time for me to make a visit to the honey wagon.

Dispensing a butt-kicking, though, gooses my appetite. So, I made a detour on my way back by the craft services truck to check out the snacks. I grabbed an oversized brownie for myself, and two more, plus a cookie for the table.

I ducked my head into the catering tent, which was nearly empty between meals. I noticed Jesse in a corner, talking to Paul. I wondered if she was looking for praise from him about how she handled her scene. Unlike their aversion to hearing “no,’’ these people loved to hear about how great they were. Big egos and a lack of self-control seemed like a dangerous combination.

Toby and Joh

Mama’s husband was bonding over a cup of coffee with a tall, red-headed Teamster. The man had a New Yawk accent to rival Sal’s. I’d seen the teamster earlier in the week, radioing instructions to a driver arriving with an 18-wheeler filled with movie-making equipment. I had a fleeting urge to stop at their table and ask Sal if he’d spoken with Carlos. I didn’t want to seem so desperately female in front of two tough guys, though.

Excuse me, does my boyfriend still like me?

Outside, the raccoon had finished off the first half of Tilton’s sandwich, and was now working on the second. The animal seemed to be having some trouble with the plastic wrap, though. Raccoons are extraordinarily clever and dexterous, so I was confident it would prevail.

Back at our table, Mama’s face brightened when she saw the sweet treats.

“Just what we need!’’ She clapped her hands. “Eating chocolate is much better than talking about Greg Tilton. What a disappointment. I still remember him, guns blazing against the bad guys, in the first Western I saw him do. What a hero he was.’’

“Acting, Mama,’’ Maddie said.

As I sat, my gaze returned to the raccoon. It had dropped the sandwich, without managing to peel free the wrapping. In fact, the animal’s behavior was strange. It tumbled from the bench seat, and then had trouble righting itself on the ground. The coon zigzagged toward the woods, like a drunk trying to follow a straight line at a DUI checkpoint.

“Mace?’’ Mama’s voice sliced through the air.

“Hmm?’’ I said, turning to her.

“Pay attention! Maddie and I asked which brownie you wanted. What is so darned interesting over there that you can’t answer your mama?’’

“The big brownie is mine.’’ I turned back toward the animal, now walking in circles. “There’s something wrong with that raccoon.’’

“It’s a pest; that’s what’s wrong with it,’’ Maddie grumbled. “I’m cutting this biggest brownie in half for Mama and me. I left you the second-biggest one.’’

The raccoon seemed dizzy, off-balance. As I got up for a closer look, convulsions started racking the poor thing’s body. Then it stiffened, and plopped over on its side. By the time I got there, the raccoon was dead.

Kneeling next to the raccoon, I brushed at my eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Jesse stood over me. “You warned us over and over to stay away from them. You said they can carry disease. You called them beggars, no better than thieves.’’

“Yeah, I know what I said; but I think this raccoon was poisoned. None of God’s creatures should have to suffer like that.’’

“Poisoned?’’ Her eyes went wide.

I glanced over my shoulder at the bench. “We need to call the police over here to take a look at that sandwich. Meanwhile, we can’t let anybody get near enough to touch it, or take it.’’

I quietly asked her to sit at the table, so she could guard it from the curious, or maybe the nefarious. Before she went, Jesse pulled aside a production assistant. “You better let Barbara know about this.’’

The PA hurried off toward the production trailer.

Meanwhile, my sisters and Mama had joined me by the raccoon’s body. Murmurs moved in waves through the gathering crowd. I looked around, searching in vain for Tilton. In fact, I didn’t see any of the stars, aside from Jesse. Sava