FARE THEE WELL

The camera focused on the center of the set: two wing back chairs
upholstered in a camel-colored leather canted toward each other at
forty-five degrees off the parallel with an occasional table between them.
The stage facade behind the chairs appeared to be a wall in a luxury home,
complete with elegant but unobtrusive paintings. A small, squat lamp with a
low-wattage bulb lit the occasional table.

The camera panned in on the two women sitting in the chairs. One was a
nationally known television commentator, about sixty, (and) the other an
internationally known movie star in her late forties. The commentator was
dressed in a navy-blue business suit with matching closed-toed shoes. The
star was dressed in a floor-length skirt in muted blues and grays, and an
off-white blouse with long, puffed sleeves.

The director's voice could be heard. "Three, two, one, live."

"This is Beverly Walker for Celebrity, American's favorite television news
magazine. I'm here this evening with Sandra King, actress, director and now
producer, winner of four Academy Awards and other awards too numerous to
mention - a star of international renown. Good evening, Sandy."

"Good evening, Beverly."

"I must tell our television audience I was quite surprised when you asked
for this interview, and when you didn't want to tell me the subject until we
were on the air, my curiosity was definitely piqued. You're known for two
things, Sandy, quality work and not granting interviews. What made you
decide to talk to me now?"

"I want to talk about David and me."

"Your husband? Good heavens why? You've never talked about him before."

"I know. That was the way we wanted it, but now it's time."

"He died a little over a year ago, didn't he?"

"Yes, on September 18 of last year."

"I know how you must miss him."

"More than I can tell you. I... excuse me." The camera panned away from Miss
King's face as she blotted her eyes with tissue. "I'm sorry, Beverly. Please
go on."

"No apologies are necessary, Sandy. Your husband was never quoted. He was
photographed only when he escorted you. In the few interviews you gave,
you've never discussed him at all. Even though you seemed very happy with
him, that gave rise to a lot of speculation, as you know."

"A lot of that speculation was very unkind, Beverly," Miss King replied
tersely. "That's why I'm doing this interview. I want to set the record
straight."

"All right, Sandy. Twenty-five years ago, you were the bright shooting comet
on the Hollywood scene. The papers called you the new Mae West, the new
Marilyn Monroe. Your escapades were chronicled in the tabloids and they
caused frenzied speculation about your personal life."

"You're being kind," Miss King said with a wry smile. "I was the industry
wild child, a rapid disciple of the adage 'sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll'. In
an industry which sells sex, that was a dubious honor."

"Then you disappeared for six months. As I remember, you made only one
public appearance during that time."

"That's right, Beverly. I attended the premiere of a movie I'd made."

"Tell your public what they've wondered for twenty-five years. Tell them
what happened when you disappeared for six months to reappear a changed
woman."

"Love is what happened. Love. Love from a man like I'd never experienced.
Never even imagined. Love like I didn't believe possible."

"Why don't you tell me about it, Sandy."

Sandra King took a deep breath and began.

"I was negotiating to star in a new movie. Honestly, it may have been my
last starring opportunity. I had a well-deserved reputation as an
unreliable, demanding, egotistical bitch. Oh, I guess I shouldn't use that
word on television."

"I don't know that it'll make it past the censors, but don't worry about
that. Just tell the story the way you want to tell it," Miss Walker replied.

"The word applied to me. I flew off the handle at the slightest provocation,
walked off sets, and blew production schedules. I'd done time at Betty
Ford's Rehab Center for drugs and alcohol. So, despite talent and looks, my
name was mud in the industry.

"My manager and agent brought me a offer from a small, new production
company financed by a man named David Sams. They'd never met him and neither
had I. He wasn't from the industry, but that didn't matter. People in the
industry weren't making me offers then. They both told me to make the deal
work because it might be my only shot at a comeback. I was only twenty-four,
much too young to be washed up. I was very frightened and very alone."

"David Sams is the man who became your husband," Miss Walker said.

"Yes, he was. David was fifty-two. He'd made his millions and said he wanted
to do something new and different, something to express his creativity. I
first met him at a meeting to negotiate my starring in the film. I was on
the edge of an explosion, but I always was on the edge in those days.

"He was calm, serene, totally in control of himself, very gentle and
polished. Courtly may be the right word. Yes, courtly. I wondered how this
man could be a captain of industry and a war hero. In Hollywood, if men
don't posture and strut like baboons in mating season, they're ignored.

"It was a good deal for me. I still don't know why I balked, but I did. I
demanded another million dollars for my fee, which embarrassed my agent and
manager. As the group talked in heated flurries, I started to panic because
I felt the deal unraveling.

"David had watched me throughout the meeting. Truthfully, I don't think he
looked at anyone else. But the way he looked at me was different than men
usually look at me. His expression was caring, gentle, maybe even loving. It
was certainly not threatening, but it made me more anxious. Why, I don't
know. Quietly, he asked to see me alone.

"That day I'd dressed sexily, a short skirt and tight, open blouse. When he
and I met in a small conference room away from the main meeting, I crossed
my legs and made sure my skirt rode up my thighs. I mean, these were perfect
legs and he was a man, an older and unmarried man. I was ready to do
anything to put this deal back together."

"Are you saying that you would've had sex with him to cement the agreement?"
Miss Walker asked, trying to act surprised.

"Rumors of casting couches have a foundation in fact, Beverly," Miss King
replied with a twinkle in her eye.

"But the industry. . ." Miss Walker began.

"Doesn't like to talk about it, but it's true. Not always. Sometimes," Miss
King interrupted.

"Yes, I suspect it is. Please continue, Sandy," Miss Walker said.

"In the meeting, he'd seemed benign, not sending me any signals. But in that
small private room, his signals bombarded me. I really looked at him for the
first time. He was taller than I realized and his body was thicker. He'd
moved lithely, like a big cat. When he stared at me with a raw sexual power
that made me tingle, I wondered how badly I'd misjudged him. Suddenly, the
signals stopped and he was benign again.

"Sandy, have you ever heard of 'Fare Thee Well'?" he asked.

"'No'," I replied.

"'She's the most magnificent thoroughbred filly ever to race, the most
beautiful horse ever: powerful, sensual, perfect lines, ideal breeding with
the aura of an empress. But she was demanding and arrogant. Very difficult
to handle. She took pride in being difficult. She knew she was the best. I
guess she felt her surroundings were not equal to her so she relentlessly
persecuted her owners and trainers. When I bought her, she had a reputation
of not winning because of her temperament.'

"I shifted and readjusted my skirt to draw attention to my legs. I thought I
saw a twinkle in his eyes but, if I did, it was quickly gone.

"'Interesting,'" I told him. "'Please, go on,'" I said. What a phony I was
and his smile told me he knew and understood.

"'I worked with her. She and I love each other now. Through that love, she
learned to focus and to give. Then, on race day, she was always ready,
prancing, powerful, eager to enter the gate. She had heart and would win, no
matter who was her jockey or who ran against her. She always won her races.
Her pride demanded it. Now, she's retired, living at peace with herself and
her world.

"'That's really wonderful, David, but what is your point?'" I said
sardonically.

"He suddenly leaned right over me, his mouth inches away. His blue eyes were
no longer placid, but deep, compelling pools that held me. I felt his hands
on my dress hem. I quivered wondering what he was going to do. He tugged my
dress, pulling it down demurely.

"'You remind me of her,'" he said quietly. He kissed me on my forehead and
walked out of the room.

"I sat there dazed, my heart palpitating. My mind whirled like a child's top
gone mad. Then I exploded with anger. Who did he think he was comparing me
to a horse? I charged into the meeting to give him a piece of my mind, but
he was gone.

"'Where the hell is he?'" I screamed. "'I'll walk away from this deal if he
didn't agree to my extra million!'" I saw the glances around the room.

"My manager replied, 'He gave you two million, but with completion
conditions.' I stood with my mouth open.

"I didn't see David again until about a week into the filming. From day one,
the director and I disagreed over my character and everything else. One day
it came to a head. David called a meeting for seven in the morning to iron
out the problems. The three lead characters, the director, and several
others attended. I was hell on wheels: screaming, cursing, demanding. Acting
like I'd always acted. The meeting had degenerated with me being nasty and
every one else quiet and non-responsive.

"When David asked me to join him in the business trailer, I stormed in with
steam coming out of my ears. He said very gently, 'Sandy, you're correct as
to the character. Your work's excellent, your acting sublime, but I need you
to help me. We must keep on schedule. And we must allow the others artistic
freedom, too. With all your professional powers, your great acting skills
and your wonderful natural beauty, you intimidate them. You need to be more
gentle with them. Can you help me?'

"'(Bleep) you and them,' I said."

"I don't think that'll make it past the censors," Miss Walker interrupted
with a wry smile.

"Well, I said it. Let them censor it. He grabbed my chin and shook my head.
One of his arms went around my waist, trapping my arms beside me. He crushed
me against him as he lifted me in the air. His other hand was behind my neck
holding my head still so he could whisper in my ear.

"'Sandy,' he said. 'You're their queen. Don't be the Red Queen, screaming
off with their heads. You need to be firm, but loving, with your subjects.
You can afford to be lenient. I'll support you in the changes you want, but
you must be gracious in your victory.'

"He sat me down and his eyes twinkled as I looked up at him. He stroked my
face with a velvet touch. 'And queens do not curse, Sandy. It's unbecoming.'

"Again he kissed my forehead. Confused and unfocused, I let him gently tug
me to the meeting. I watched in awe as he quickly drew consensus for his own
ideas, always speaking in his quiet, assured voice. When he was through, he
had what he wanted and everyone was happy about it.

"From then on, he was in attendance during filming. I always felt he was
watching me. I would see him, feel his eyes on me. It wasn't unpleasant. Far
from it. I enjoy a man watching me, but this was something different,
although I didn't know what.

"The second time I exploded was only a few days later. David stopped filming
for the day, even though it was shortly after lunch. Again, we met in the
business trailer. His expression was neutral and unreadable as he listened
to my incoherent tirade for half an hour. I screamed myself out before
plopping in a chair, depleted and physically exhausted by my outburst.

"He looked sad as he squatted to be on my eye level. I felt his hand gentle
on my knee, his eyes penetrating me. I felt he was looking into my soul.
Softly, he brushed my hair back from my face, his fingers lingering for a
moment on my cheek.

"'I was unfair to Fare Thee Well to compare you to her. She had more focus,
more pride and heart. She knew when it was race day, and she was going to
win, no matter what.' I sat, unable to move, as if I had been anthesticized.
Then he said, 'This is your race, Sandy. You need to win it for yourself if
no one else.'

"He smiled gently and leaned towards me, kissing my forehead before he left
me with my thoughts.

"Three more times he intervened during shooting. Three times he and I met
alone. Each time, he was firm, but gentle, and ended by kissing my forehead.

"That last time, when I had just blown up a little, the director teasingly
accused me of intentionally being belligerent just to be with David. It was
a revelation to me. First, it revealed how my attitude had softened and
changed, allowing the director to feel free to joke with me. No one had ever
joked with me on the set before. And it revealed how I was feeling about
David. The director was right. My blow-up came directly from my wanting to
see him.

"We finished ahead of schedule. By the end of shooting, my nature and my
reputation as a malcontent were both ameliorated. I'd never felt better
about a project.

"A week after filming ended, I called and asked to see him. I dressed sexily
and my adrenaline flowed. While he'd rejuvenated my career, I was angry that
he was a man seemingly immune to me. I meant to seduce him. I wasn't in
touch enough with my own feelings to understand why his response to me was
so important.

"We met at his ranch where the maid admitted me. In the entry hall, I saw a
picture of a giant horse standing with him. A brass nameplate on the bottom
of the frame said 'Fare Thee Well,' and the race date and name. The winner's
garland was around her neck. He was kissing her forehead.

"He greeted me warmly, and he was pleasant and gracious during lunch on the
patio. I came on strong, using every technique I knew to get him interested
in me. He seemed aloof and slightly amused at my feminine wiles. If I'd paid
attention, I'd have seen his interest in me. Instead, I became angry."

Miss King was sitting on the edge of her chair now, leaning forward. Her
eyes glowed as she related her story.

"He asked me to walk with him after lunch. The day was warm, but not hot, as
we walked down a bridal path past the corrals. The brown hills surrounded
and protected us. The wind softly whispered in the tall pines on either side
of the path. It was a  romantic spot, but I wasn't romantic. For no reason,
I stopped and faced him. He had that same gentle, amused expression. I
slapped him.

"He smiled at me but the twinkle in his eyes was gone. 'Don't do that again,
Sandy,' he said in a very firm, soft voice.

"I started to slap him again. Quickly, he spun me around and slapped me hard
on the rear."

"He hit you?" Miss Walker asked.

"No. He swatted my bottom with the flat of his hand, which I richly
deserved. It didn't hurt, but it made me mad. When I swung to hit him, he
grabbed my wrists and crossed them, holding them in one giant hand, as he
fended me off with the other. I squealed and jumped and cursed and kicked.
He had that funny smile and an iron grip on my wrists I couldn't break. I
exhausted myself. Gasping for air, I glared at him. He gently pushed my hair
back.

"'What a beautiful, glorious, delightful creature you are,' he said softly
but with deep feeling. His expression was sad and serious. 'I know you came
here to seduce me, but I've been seduced from the first time I saw you. We
were at a party. You don't even remember me, do you?' I shook my head. 'I
financed the movie for you to help restart your career. You were the only
actress considered. You always reached me, Sandy. You're the most desirable
woman in the world and I ache from wanting you.'

"He released my wrists. Somehow, they stayed crossed as I silently watched
him as he said, 'I wish you were a horse. I'd buy you and bring you here.
With time, you'd realize how special you are and how much I love you. I'd
give you my love and help you be at peace.' He turned to walk away.

"'Wait, David! How about my kiss?' I called after him.

"I couldn't believe I'd said it. I blushed for the first time in ten years
and I waited, waited for him to come to me. When he walked toward me, I
lowered my head so he could kiss my forehead as he always did. He gently
tilted my face upwards.

"'I think you should be kissed here,' he said as his lips touched mine. It
was a long, deep, powerful kiss.

"He left me there alone as he walked back to the house. Dazed, confused,
still reeling from his kiss, I watched him go. Then I wandered aimlessly,
trying to pull my thoughts together."

Miss King sighed and leaned back in the chair, her hands dangling off the
ends of the chair's arms. She continued in a soft, loving tone.

"When I returned to the ranch house area, he was in the corral exercising
Fare Thee Well. I could see his gentleness with her and the affection
between them. She was a giant horse, spirited and powerful even in her later
years, playful in a loving way, but docile with him. You could see the
unfettered joy in both of them as they worked and played together. When the
trainer entered to begin her rubdown, David walked towards the gate. Fare
Thee Well whinnied at him, telling him she cared and she'd miss him.

"I was jealous of her. Not jealous that she had his love; I knew he loved
me. I was jealous of her gracious and genuine reception of that love and her
joyful giving of it in return.

"I followed him toward the barn. He didn't know I was there, standing a few
feet behind him as he removed his work gloves and washed up. When he turned
and saw me, he smiled at me with that loving, gentle smile of his. My skin
felt prickly and my eyes teared.

"'David, how much time do you need?' I asked. He looked puzzled. 'For you to
show how much you care for me.'

"What a look of love he gave me!

"'It doesn't work that way, Sandy. If you give me two weeks, you'll want to
stay with me forever.

"'I have two weeks. And I have forever,' I said.

"Blinded by my tears, I stumbled into his arms. I was so secure there as he
held me against him. He let me cry until I cried no more. He kissed me. Then
he picked me up and carried me into the house. He lay me down on his
bed...."

"Sandy, this is national television," Miss Walker interrupted.

"I know, Beverly," Miss King said. "But you must know about this, and your
audience must know, too. I knew what sex was. I'd known too much and for far
too long. But this was different. So very different. It was love. Making
love to a man I loved. I felt like a virgin that day with David for he was
the first man I loved. Don't you see, Beverly? Love made it real."

The camera panned away as Miss King sat back with her eyes seeing things far
away. Miss Walker waited a few moments before saying, "That story's very
different than what the tabloids reported, Sandy."

"Yes, it is, but that's the truth. That's how I fell in love for the first
and last time in my life."

"What happened then?"

"For six months, we hid away at his ranch, leaving only for the premiere of
our movie. It was the two of us together. I learned so much from David
during that time. He taught me to love and to laugh, to give and to take.
More importantly, he taught me to do them with humility and caring. That's
when I became a woman, not a hot bodied girl seeking her own pleasures, but
a woman loving a man and being loved in return."

Miss King sat back. The camera panned in for a close up. Her face radiated a
deep and abiding love, and emotional honesty.

"I learned to be at peace and in love with my world," she said.

"You were pregnant with your first child when you surfaced on the Hollywood
scene again, as I remember," Miss Walker said.

Anger flickered across Miss King's face. She sat erect again and her face
was intense.

"The tabloids were wrong there, too. My pregnancy was intentional and the
result of my love for him, not some mistake. I was so full of love I wanted
to give him a child and I wanted a child to shower with my love."

Miss King took a deep breath and relaxed against the chair back.

"We were in the study when I asked him if I could have his child. His eyes
twinkled.

"'Only if we're married, Sandy. I think children should have siblings and
homes and loving parents.'

"'David, are you proposing to me?' I asked.

He walked to the desk, removed a jewelry box, and returned, kneeling before
me. He opened the box, showing me a beautiful ring. 'Will you marry me,
Sandy? Please. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.'

"I can't tell you how I cried honest tears of joy. You know the rest: the
large, media covered marriage; the long career interrupted by my four
pregnancies; my move into directing and now, producing; the awards and
accolades.

"Funny, isn't it? I was the wild woman who was unemployable and on the edge
of self destruction, the woman no director or producer wanted to confront.
Now every actor wants to work with me because I bring out the best in them;
every producer wants me to direct because my work is high quality and I
finish on budget."

"There was a distinct change in you," Miss Walker said.

Miss King's face was shining. "Even as David lay dying, he was helping me,
giving me his love and his peace. He said, 'Gnash your teeth and wail my
loss for thirty days, Sandy. Then let it go and return to your life. You
have so much to give and so many people depend on you to give it. Relish
your life here. Don't hurry to me on the other side. I'll wait for you there
and we'll have eternity together.'

"Thirty days after I buried him, my grief floated away from me. I returned
to my life, to my children and my work. I know I'll be with him again when
it's time."

The camera panned away. Miss King's hands could be seen clenching and
unfolding, and her face was red.

"Normally, I'm at peace, a peace within me that comes from his love. That's
David's gift to me, the greatest gift anyone could ever have. I'll love him
forever for it."

Miss King's face crumbled and tears flowed unabated.

"But sometimes.... oh, God, I miss him so."

She buried her face in her hands and wept uncontrollably.

"This is Beverly Walker for Celebrity. Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen."

The camera faded to black.