Double Vision
Felicia Thane glanced at the mirror as she walked down the hall and quickly looked away, not liking what she saw. Although still a beautiful woman, there was an aging face behind the makeup and graying hair beneath the red dye. She was no longer the striking seventeen-year-old girl who left Pittsburgh and made her way to Hollywood in hopes of becoming an actress, nor was she the stunning woman in her twenties who starred opposite Clark Gable, Cary Grant and Errol Flynn. At thirty-four, she already considered herself an old lady.
To millions of American women who temporarily escaped the hopelessness of the Great Depression by immersing themselves in the lives of the stars of the silver screen, Felicia had it all. Not only was she beautiful, rich, successful and talented, but she was also married to Rex LeBarre, arguably the best-looking man west of the Mississippi.
If they only knew the truth, she thought, fighting back the tears that threatened to wreak havoc with her mascara.
When the couple first met ten years earlier, Felicia was at the peak of her career. She was cast in the lead female role in one of the Thirties' huge biblical epics, and Rex had just arrived in Hollywood after having attained success on the Broadway stage. However, fame in the theater does not necessarily guarantee a future in motion pictures. Few people outside the New York area knew who he was. So, when he arrived in the movie Mecca, he was given only a minor part in the picture, one that could not even be called a supporting role.
It was three weeks into shooting. As usual, the leading lady reported to the set before sunup. She was in full makeup and costume and ready to begin filming when Rex made his first appearance in her life. Dressed in the uniform of a Roman centurion, he was breathtakingly handsome, so much so that he caught the eye of every woman present, including Felicia.
"Who's that?" she asked the director's assistant.
"Some Broadway actor who wants to be in films."
Although he had only a dozen lines—hardly a test of his talent—Rex stole the scene from the leading man. Women responded to him, a fact that was not lost on studio bigwigs. Morton Goldfarb, one of the industry's most prominent producers, was quick to see the young man's box office potential.
"How'd you like to do a picture with Felicia Thane?" Morton asked after overhearing the audience's comments at the premiere.
"I just did," the actor laughingly replied.
"I mean how'd you like a shot at being her next leading man?"
"Are you kidding?"
"No. I'm serious."
"I've got great credentials," Rex boasted. "For a time, I worked with Strasberg and Meisner at the Group Theater."
"I'm not interested in your resume, kid. I know you can act, but so can lots of other guys. You, on the other hand, have got something they don't teach in acting school."
"What's that?"
"There's no name for it, but I call it 'presence.' The camera loves you—and so does the audience."
"And you can tell that after seeing me in only one scene?"
"I didn't get to be where I am today without knowing what sells and what doesn't."
"Sells?" the actor echoed. "You make me sound like something in Macy's department store window."
"That's exactly how I see you. Let's get one thing straight right now. You may think you're an artist, but in this town, actors are nothing more than commodities. The studios polish them up, package them and sell them to buyers on the market. The sooner you accept that truth, the better off you'll be."
"And how do you intend to package me?"
"With your face and physique, definitely as a heartthrob. There hasn't been a great lover since Valentino died. I think it's about time for one now."
* * *
Image was everything in Hollywood. Although Morton Goldfarb normally left the creation of the stars' public personas to the studio's publicity department, he chose to personally get involved in promoting Rex LeBarre. For the past twenty years, he had been producing one blockbuster after another, to the point where his life had become mundane and boring. He might enjoy the God-like challenge of molding a star from a lump of clay.
"If you want moviegoers to see you as a great lover on the big screen, you have to pretend to be one in real life," the producer advised when he invited the actor to his Beverly Hills home for a strategy session.
"And how do I go about doing that?" Rex asked.
"I'm going to set you up on a number of dates with some of Hollywood's most desirable women. You're going to be seen at all the big parties, premieres and charity galas. Your photograph will appear in every movie magazine—always with a beautiful starlet on your arm. And I'll arrange for Hedda and Louella to make your name prominent in their columns."
Deciding to start small, Morton set his future star up on a date with a sexy dancer, a former Ziegfeld girl who recently appeared in the chorus of a Busby Berkeley musical. Although no one knew her by name, she was as dazzling a platinum blonde as Jean Harlow.
"You both came here from New York," the producer said, handing Rex a roll of twenties to take care of expenses. "So, you should have a lot to talk about. But be sure to pay her a good deal of attention when people are around."
Although there was no true romantic connection, the two East Coast transplants did enjoy each other's company. During their prearranged date, they laughed, drank and sat close together at a dimly lit table for two. When they took to the dance floor, their bodies pressing up against one another, they gave a believable performance. However, when no one was within earshot, their conversation was quite banal. They talked about winter weather in New York, Fiorello LaGuardia's performance as mayor and the Yankees' current winning streak.
"I met Babe Ruth in a nightclub when I was still dancing for Flo," the blonde proudly announced.
"I'm more a fan of Gehrig myself. Not to downplay Ruth's importance to the team, but he strikes out a lot more than Lou does."
Thus, the remainder of the evening was spent in a discussion of the comparative merits of the Sultan of Swat and the Iron Horse. Not that people around them would have guessed they were talking baseball. Both their body language and the expression of longing on their faces made it appear as though they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Little did anyone know that when Rex leaned close as though planting a kiss on his date's neck, he was telling her he believed the Yankees would win yet another World Series come October.
The following day both Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons mentioned the actor's name in their columns. Hedda predicted that Rex and a bombshell ex-Ziegfeld dancer—she did not mention the girl by name—would be Hollywood's next major romance.
"That went well," Morton said.
"Yeah. I actually had a good time last night. When is our next date going to be?"
"You're not going to see her again. It's time you move up from chorus girl to ingenue."
"You mean you're setting me up with someone else?"
"You got it. I figure three more dates with farm team players and you'll be ready for the big leagues."
"What's that mean?"
"I'll set you up on a date with your costar—although don't use that word when you're with Felicia. She thinks of you solely as a supporting actor."
Oh, great! Rex thought with despair. He's setting me up with a real prima donna. That ought to be the most unpleasant evening of my life.
* * *
The arranged date took place three days before filming of Dark Destiny was scheduled to begin. Felicia and Rex were virtual strangers, having did only the one scene together in the biblical epic. Morton arranged for a limo to pick the actor and his leading lady up at their respective homes and then take them to a party at Pickfair, home of Mary Pickford, who now shared the mansion with third husband, Buddy Rogers.
When Rex, elegantly dressed in a tuxedo, appeared on the actress' doorstep, he took her breath away.
"Where did you park your chariot, Octavius?" she teased.
"I left it at the Forum. I'm afraid we'll have to take the car instead."
The smile that accompanied his riposte lit up his face and stole Felicia's heart. By the time they arrived at the star-studded party, she was already half in love with him. Rex's feelings were more complicated. Although he enjoyed his co-star's company during the car ride to Pickfair, once they arrived at the party, things changed. From the moment they entered the famed house, all eyes were on the dazzling redhead. Female sycophants profusely flattered her while their male counterparts shamelessly fawned over her. No one paid the least bit of attention to her companion.
I don't know how this is going to help my career any, he thought. I might as well not even be here.
He hated being in her shadow and wanted to leave, but Felicia had no qualms about sharing the attention with him.
"Let me introduce my date, Rex LeBarre," she told the adoring crowd that had gathered around her. "He and I are going to star in a picture together."
Only then did women's heads turn toward the young Broadway actor. And when they did, they liked what they saw. Although the term "eye candy" had yet to come into use back in the Thirties, Hollywood was rife with pretty faces (both male and female), many of which were accompanied by mediocre or no talent. The attendees at Mary Pickford's party that night took one look at Rex and made a quick assumption: sure, he's gorgeous, but he probably can't act his way out of a paper bag. Once their first impressions were formed, they promptly returned to paying homage to the reigning luminaries who were present.
"So, who am I going to date next?" Rex asked Morton when the producer phoned him the day after the party.
"I think it's time you form a more serious relationship."
"With whom?"
"Why, Felicia, of course."
"Does it have to be her? Can't it be with that Ziegfeld dancer? I like her. We got along really well."
"A chorus girl is not going to help your career. It has to be Felicia Thane. She's the biggest female star in Hollywood at the moment."
"I don't know," Rex said hesitantly.
"You needed to be seen with different women to project the great lover image. But if you see too many women, then people will think you're a cad. Now we want them to see you as Romeo, willing to die for love. That long-legged platinum blonde may be pretty, but she's no Juliet. Since Mary and Doug split, moviegoers have been looking for another golden couple; that's going to be you and Felicia."
There was a period of silence at the other end of the line; then Rex said, "Let me think about it."
"What's there to think about?" Morton laughed. "Most red-blooded men would jump at the chance to romance Felicia Thane."
"Yeah, well, I'm not most men."
It suddenly occurred to the producer that his protégé might be homosexual. If so, he wouldn't be the first one forced to live a lie for the sake of his career.
"Look, if you're that way, you have to keep it to yourself."
"You misunderstand me," Rex corrected him. "I don't like men. I like women but not necessarily Felicia."
"Why the hell not? She's beautiful, intelligent, talented ... and she's one of the nicest women I've ever met."
"She's too famous. When I'm with her, I feel as though I don't exist."
"You'll get over that! Wait until this picture comes out. I predict you're on your way to becoming the hottest property in Hollywood."
Following Goldfarb's advice, Rex took Felicia out a second time. Meanwhile, filming began on Dark Destiny. The main character of the movie was a fictional woman loosely based on exotic dancer Margaretha Geertruida Zelle, better known as Mata Hari, who was executed by the French for being a German spy. In this big-budget World War I drama, Rex portrayed her lover, a pilot sent to fight for the French as part of the Russian Expeditionary Force. After he is shot down by the Germans, the Russian is nursed back to health by his Dutch-born paramour. The couple enjoy a tender and passionate interlude before he must return to battle and she to her career. Although the pilot survives the war, the alleged spy faces a firing squad in 1917.
While the onscreen romance was being acted out, people on set, both behind and in front of the camera, took notice of the developing personal relationship between the two principal stars. Those who knew Felicia well could tell that the look of longing on her face whenever she had to perform a scene with Rex was not just acting. It was obvious the Pennsylvania-born actress was in love with her leading man. On the surface, at least, he seemed to be interested in her, too.
Louella and Hedda did their part by reporting on sightings of the couple. By the time the two stars attended the premiere of Dark Destiny together, they were already the most talked about twosome in Hollywood. Reporters routinely asked if they planned on getting married, but neither star was willing to discuss their future plans with the press. In fact, Rex never considered matrimony until Morton brought up the subject.
"I think it would be a wise move," the producer advised.
"I like Felicia, but not enough to marry her."
"This is Hollywood. You're not going to settle down in the suburbs and raise a family. Think of being a husband as just another role you play in a film called Marriage."
Thus, with the studio's blessing, Felicia Thane and Rex LeBarre were married in a fairy tale wedding that was every bit as lavish as an MGM or Warner Brothers production.
* * *
Whether it was his critically acclaimed performance as the Russian pilot in Dark Destiny or his highly publicized relationship with his costar that caused Rex's rapid rise to stardom is debatable. The result, however, is not. By the time the couple completed their second joint venture film, a Civil War epic that predated Gone with the Wind, there was a significant shift in their respective public images. Where once Felicia was the star and Rex the unknown Broadway actor, he was fast becoming the biggest name in Hollywood. Whenever they appeared in public, he was now the one sought out by reporters, photographers and autograph-hunting fans.
Her husband's eclipse of her popularity did not bother Felicia. Truthfully, she was glad to be out of the glare of the limelight. What did concern her was not her public relationship with Rex but rather their private life. On the surface, their marriage seemed a happy one, but she could sense something was missing. She could see no warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. At first, she pushed her worries aside, hoping that their love would grow with time. However, as their first wedding anniversary neared, the situation had not improved.
Hoping a frank discussion might clear the air, she finally asked him about his feelings. Rex, to his credit, was honest with his wife. He confessed that he only married her to advance his career.
"It's not that I don't care for you. I do," he quickly added. "It just that I'm not in love with you."
How could I have been so stupid to believe otherwise? she wondered. This isn't some Hollywood movie with a happily-ever-after ending. This is real life.
There were no bitter tears, no recriminations, no angry demand for a divorce. Hell! There wasn't even an argument. A career-minded woman herself, she accepted the marriage for what it was: another work of fiction to be performed for the benefit of the public. To her credit, she played the role of wife beautifully!
Years passed, and Rex fulfilled his early promise as an actor, becoming more popular than he or Morton Goldfarb had ever dreamed. Although his hair was turning gray at the temples, he was every bit as handsome as he was when he graced the New York stage. In fact, many people found that age was making him more distinguished-looking. Felicia's career, on the other hand, had slowly eroded away. Younger actresses claimed the coveted female leads, and she was now relegated to the role of character actress.
Given Rex's great success, there was no reason for the marriage to continue. However, neither he nor his wife seemed eager to end it.
Why bother? Felicia wondered. Divorces are expensive. The only ones who benefit are the lawyers.
There was no real reason for her to want a separation. Despite his not being in love with her, Rex was a good husband. He was generous, supportive and, at times, fun to be with. Besides, it's not as though there was another man in her life. Far from it! Rex was the center of her universe.
My life is like the plot of a bad movie. I have everything a woman could want except happiness.
* * *
During the postwar years, the motion picture industry began to lose ground to its new rival: television. Box office receipts went down, and the sale of TV sets skyrocketed. Like many high-earning actors, Rex LeBarre began to fear for his future.
"Don't worry," Morton assured him. "It's not like when talkies put some silent film stars out of work. Worst case scenario, you'll have to make the move from the big screen to the little one. Either way, you'll have a job."
"I suppose I could always go back to Broadway," the actor told his wife six months later when the studio declined to renew his contract.
However, the move back east was not necessary. Morton was asked to produce a weekly program for NBC. He agreed, provided his good friend would be cast in the lead role.
"It's not nearly as exciting as a feature film," he told Rex when he pitched the idea to him. "But it's steady work, and you won't have to move out of your house. The show will be filmed right here in Hollywood."
"Good. I really wasn't looking forward to the East Coast weather."
"It's a western. You play the sheriff."
"Please tell me I don't have to ride any horses. I tried to mount one once, and the animal threw me off. I damned near broke my back."
"Don't worry. We'll get someone to do your stunts for you."
"Sounds good."
"I'll send you a copy of the script for the first episode when I get it. Oh," Morton said, almost as an afterthought, "there's a part in the show for your wife as well. She can play Della Diamond, a former dancehall girl who owns the Lucky Star Saloon. It's not a big part, but it's steady work."
Felicia was satisfied with her role even though she only appeared in a couple of scenes each episode. All her work was done on the Lucky Star set constructed at the studio. There was never a reason for her presence during the outdoor action scenes, which were filmed at a nearby movie ranch. Thus, she did not have the opportunity to meet her husband's stunt double. It was only when Rex's character was to be involved in a deadly bar fight that the stand-in was called on to step in and perform the physical stunts.
At the point in the scene where a drunken gunfighter is about to smash a chair over the sheriff's head, the director shouted, "Cut! Bring in the double."
On set, sitting in a chair, waiting for her next scene, Felicia was reading a magazine. She idly looked up from the page and saw the two men—Rex LeBarre and the stuntman—standing side by side, dressed in the same costumes. The moment was surreal. It was as though they were identical twins.
My God! she thought. I can't tell them apart.
Once the stuntman was standing in place, the director called for action. The actor playing the drunken gunslinger brought the specially made breakaway chair down on the double's head. Moments later, filming was again stopped so that Rex could resume his performance.
"You're bleeding," Felicia said when the stuntman passed by her chair.
"It's just a scratch," he said. "Those wooden chairs don't always break cleanly."
"You might want to check for splinters."
"Thanks. I'll do that."
"We haven't met yet. I'm Felicia Thane."
"I know who you are. I'm a huge fan of yours. My name is Eddy McCutcheon."
"I'm sorry for staring," the actress apologized after gawking at him for several minutes, "but you look so much like my husband. The resemblance is uncanny. I can't ...."
"Quiet on the set!" the director shouted as the cameras began to roll.
Felicia followed her cue and entered the scene. As Della Diamond, the big-hearted saloon owner who had a not-too-secret crush on the town sheriff, she went to Rex's side to minister to his injuries. She looked down at the fake blood that the makeup man had daubed on his face and went mute.
"Cut!" the director shouted. "What's the matter, honey? Did you forget your line?"
"It's fake!" she said as though seeing the truth behind the false façade of moviemaking for the first time.
"Of course, it's fake," her husband laughed. "Did you expect them to use real blood?"
"All of it's fake! Nothing here is real. Not the chair, not the injuries, not this saloon. Not even you."
The director, fearing the actress might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown, decided it would be a good time to break for lunch. Cast members and crew shuffled out of the soundstage and across the lot to the commissary, leaving the star and his wife alone on the set.
"What's wrong with you?" Rex asked.
"What's wrong with me?" Felicia fired back. "What's wrong with you? What's wrong with this whole town?"
"Let's go get something to eat. Maybe you'll feel better."
"You go. I'm not hungry."
What IS wrong with me? the actress wondered, sitting alone on one of the Lucky Star's bar stools. I've never felt this depressed before.
When the door opened and the man in the sheriff costume entered, she assumed it was Rex.
"That was fast," she said. "Didn't you eat?"
"I'll eat later when the crowd dies down."
Felicia caught her breath when she realized it was Eddy McCutcheon, not Rex LeBarre, walking across the room toward her. Although she had never been one for small talk, she did not want her husband's double to leave. Eager to engage him in conversation, she said the first thing that came to her mind.
"What made you decide to become a stuntman?"
His laughter, deep and masculine, warmed her. It seemed to say, "Trust me. I'm not like everyone else in Hollywood. I'm real."
"It wasn't something I wanted. It just sorta happened," he admitted. "My father was a sharecropper. When the Depression hit, he loaded the family into an old truck, and we headed west. We came to California to pick fruit."
Eddy's life story sounded as though it were taken from the pages of Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath, which the actress had just finised reading.
"We managed to get by—barely. But since I was always good at woodworking, I managed to get a job building sets at MGM. Then, once your husband became famous, people took note of how much we looked alike. They would often see me on the lot and ask if I was him."
"Did you ever say yes?"
"No. I'm fine with just being who I am."
"So, what happened to the rest of your family?"
"My father died about eight years ago, my mother two years later. My two sisters got married and moved away, and my brother was killed in the war."
"I'm sorry."
"No need to be. That's life. Anyway, when Mr. Goldfarb offered me a job as your husband's double, I took it. But only because it paid better than building sets."
As the two continued to talk, Felicia felt her attraction to the stunt double growing. Strange, but it was as though she had known him for years. For some reason, she felt closer to Eddy after ten minutes than she did to her husband after ten years.
* * *
Rex's television show ran for eight seasons. During that time, a close friendship developed between the actor's wife and his stunt double. Then the actor made a major career decision, the first since his mentor, Morton Goldfarb, died six months earlier.
"I don't want to sign on for another year," he announced to Felicia one evening after the studio approached him about extending his contract. "I want to go back to making movies."
"Why? The show is as popular as ever."
"I've been playing the same part for eight years now. I'm tired of it. Besides, I never felt comfortable being a western sheriff. I'm a city boy from New York."
"This could be career suicide," his wife warned.
She made no mention of her own career, which had been reignited with the role of Della Diamond. However, if the star left, the show would be cancelled; and she would find herself out of work.
"So? If I can't make another picture, I can always go back to the theater," he replied, confident that Broadway producers would be eager to hire a Hollywood star.
"Where you'll be performing the same play day in and day out, which is more repetitive than a TV role, where at least each episode is different."
"It's not the same thing. Have you ever performed in front of a live audience?"
"No."
"I didn't think so. If you had, you would be able to appreciate the legitimate theater."
Did Felicia detect criticism in her husband's voice? When did he become such a condescending snob?
"I'm not sure I'd like living in New York," she said.
"There's no reason you have to."
"What do you mean?"
"There's really no point in our remaining married. Neither one of us is happy."
Why didn't I see this coming? she wondered. He's a Hollywood legend now. He hasn't needed me for some time now. I'm surprised the marriage didn't fall apart years ago.
Once she had the opportunity to get over the initial shock of Rex's decision, she looked on the bright side of the situation. For the past seven years, she had been having an affair with Eddy McCutcheon. Now, with her husband out of the picture, that relationship could go on to the next level.
He's the man I ought to be married to, she reasoned.
"You're right," she said. "I'll contact my lawyer first thing in the morning and tell him to begin divorce proceedings."
"There's no need to be so quick about it," Rex said, his pride wounded by the fact that she did not put up much of a fight—no fight at all, in fact. "There's no rush."
But now that the decision to separate was made, Felicia wanted to come clean with her affair.
"I'm in love with someone else."
Blindsided by her confession, Rex stared, open-mouthed, in shock. Like many actors, he had an ego the size of Mt. Everest; and despite not being in love with his wife, he was crushed by her admission of infidelity.
"With whom?" he finally managed to ask.
"Your stuntman."
This bit of news was downright laughable.
"You can't be serious! The man is a complete oaf!"
Insulted, the actress felt compelled to jump to her lover's defense.
"He is not! He's intelligent, charming, amusing, handsome ...."
"Not only are you a poor judge of character," her husband laughed, "but you obviously need your eyes checked. He's downright ugly."
"How can you say that? He's your double; he looks exactly like you."
His wife's declaration was the first sign that something was dreadfully wrong. Although the two men were of similar size, build and coloring, they looked nothing like each other. The so-called "double" was only used in scenes that required possibly dangerous stunts, and Eddy was always filmed either from the back or from a distance where the viewing audience would not be able to clearly see his features.
The next day, Rex arrived at the studio early, a rare occurrence for the actor who was usually the last person to show up.
"You're just the man I want to see," he told the stuntman, who was dunking a sugar-coated donut into a cup of coffee at the commissary.
"What about?" the double asked with amazement since the actor rarely acknowledged his presence on set.
"My wife tells me you and she have been having an affair."
The man was so stunned by this accusation, that he dropped his donut into his coffee.
"Well? Is it true?"
"Hell, no! I'm a happily married man with three kids. I barely know your wife. I doubt she would even recognize me if she saw me on the street."
That's what I thought, Rex told himself. What the hell was Felicia going on about then?
* * *
Hoping to get to the bottom of his wife's supposed infidelity, Rex decided an open confrontation was called for. When Felicia returned to her dressing room at the end of filming the following day, he paid her a visit.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"To settle this matter of your affair once and for all."
"Why bother? We're getting divorced anyway."
"I spoke to your boyfriend yesterday morning. He told me he's a happily married man with children and that there isn't now and never has been anything between the two of you."
"And you believed him?"
Felicia was surprised and somewhat disappointed that a forthright man like Eddy McCutcheon would lie. Then she took solace in the belief that he was doing so only to protect her reputation. But why would he say he was married when he had assured her he was single?
"Yes, I did."
"Well, he obviously wasn't ...."
Her explanation was interrupted by a knock on the dressing room door. Rex opened it, and a decidedly homely, not very bright-looking middle-aged man entered.
"You wanted to see me?" the man asked.
"Yes. My wife still insists you two are having an affair."
"What!" Felicia cried. "What the hell is going on? Who is this man?"
"This is my stunt double, Arnold Kemble."
"I have no idea who he is, but he's not your stuntman."
"Your husband is right, ma'am," confirmed the man with the scarred face and a nose that had been broken so often it was permanently out of whack. "I've been the stuntman on this show for eight years now."
"What game are you two playing? Wait. I'll go find Eddy. He must be around here somewhere."
"Eddy?" Rex echoed the name.
"Yes, Eddy McCutcheon, the man I'm in love with."
The actor's complexion went pale, and his eyes widened with surprise.
"Do you know who Eddy McCutcheon is?"
"Of course, I do. He's your double, not this man."
"Eddy McCutcheon is the name I was born with. I changed it to Rex LeBarre when I became an actor."
Felicia's eyes traveled from the handsome face of her husband to the unattractive one of the stuntman and back again.
"No!" she cried. "It can't be true. Eddy is a real person."
"Not anymore he isn't," her husband insisted. "He stopped existing back in New York."
The irony of the situation made Felicia laugh. For most of her adult life, she had been one of the most beloved and desirable women in the world. In one role after another, whether she was cast as the beautiful damsel in destress, the sultry femme fatale or the brave heroine, she was always adored by the leading man; and, more often than not, she got a happily-ever-after ending with a passionate kiss before the screen faded to black and the words THE END appeared on screen. Real life, however, was a mockery of her movie roles.
The only man I've ever truly loved doesn't even exist. He's nothing more than a figment of my imagination, which I created after suffering with unrequited love for my own husband.
Rather than cry at this devastating realization, she continued to chuckle. She laughed even harder, nearing the point of hysteria. At some point, her fragile mind, teetering on the edge of insanity, fell from that slippery precipice. Her eyes again moved from her husband to the stuntman. This time, however, it was like seeing Rex LeBarre and his mirror image, facing one another. The homely visage of Arnold Kemble was gone. In its place was the handsome one of Eddy McCutcheon.
"You are real!" Felicia cried with joy, her eyes glistening with tears.
"I'm as real as you want me to be, my dearest," the imaginary double replied.
* * *
There were only four more episodes left of Rex's television series before it came to an end. The writers hurriedly made changes to the scripts, removing Della Diamond's character from all the scenes.
Although actors such as Paul Newman, Steve McQueen and Marlon Brando were among the currently reigning Hollywood royalty, Rex LeBarre was able to return to making films. True, he was no longer cast as the great lover, but the roles he played were respectable, and one even earned him an Oscar.
In spite of her previous popularity, no one took notice of Felicia Thane's disappearance. There was a new generation of movie and television fans and a new pantheon of celluloid goddesses to be worshipped. The light that previously shined on her, now lit up the likes of Elizabeth Taylor and Marilyn Monroe. No gossip columnists or movie magazine journalists reported on her whereabouts. No one even thought to ask the question, "Where is she now?" For all intents and purposes, once her husband's TV show was cancelled, she ceased to exist.
However, in a private institution in Pennsylvania, not far from Pittsburgh where she was born, Felicia Thane was still a star—in her own mind, at least. Until death claimed her at the age of eighty-three, she remained a beautiful young actress, playing the female lead to her perpetually handsome leading man: Eddy McCutcheon, her loving and devoted husband.
The image in the upper left corner is of actor Pierce Brosnan.
Sheriff Salem is in town, looking to round up desperadoes and cat burglars.
