“I’ll ask him and let you know.”
“Very well, then, please be here promptly at twelve-thirty on Christmas Day.”
The two men said good-bye, and Stone hung up. Stone called Eggers, told him of their plan, and invited him.
“Marian and I would love to be with you,” Eggers said, speaking of his second wife. “It’s Betty’s year to have the kids for Christmas, so we don’t really have any plans. I’ll call Eduardo myself and accept, and we’ll see you Christmas Day.”
Stone, Arrington, and Peter lunched in the kitchen, and he told Arrington of Eduardo’s invitation.
“How very nice of him,” Arrington said. “I hope you accepted.”
“I did, and I’m glad you’re happy about it.”
“Please tell me more about Eduardo,” she said.
Stone took a deep breath. “He’s a remarkable man. There are rumors that, in his youth, he became an important figure in the old Mafia, and that he may even still be involved in some way, but no one has ever been able to substantiate that, and I’ve never had the courage to ask him for fear of offending. If the rumors are true, then he’s always been able to keep that association buried deep in his background.
“In any case, Eduardo has succeeded brilliantly in a number of fields. He founded an investment bank and became a major shareholder in a couple of big brokerage houses and serves on a number of big corporate boards. He’s also on the boards of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Metropolitan Opera, among other nonprofits, and he wields more personal influence in more areas than any man I know or have ever heard of.”
“That’s impressive,” Arrington said.
“Peter, Eduardo is also Ben’s grandfather. His daughter Mary Ann was married to Dino.”
“Didn’t Mary Ann have a sister?” Arrington asked.
“Yes, Dolce, but she’s mentally ill and is in some sort of facility in Sicily.” Stone didn’t mention that he and Dolce had once been married in a civil ceremony in Venice, and that, when Dolce went mad, Eduardo had seen that the marriage document was removed from the city’s records and sent to Stone. He had burned it.
“Where does Eduardo live?” Peter asked.
“Way out in Brooklyn, on the water, in a very impressive house, and you should remember to call him Mr. Bianchi, unless he asks you to do otherwise.”
“Of course,” Peter said. He produced his leather envelope and took out a document. “I want to send in this application to Yale,” he said, “and I’ll need your signature.”
“Good idea to apply now,” Stone said, and Arrington agreed. “Do you think two semesters at Knickerbocker will be enough for you?”
“I think so. There’s always summer school, too.”
“Oh, I’d like you to spend at least some of the summer in Virginia,” Arrington said.
“If that’s what you want, Mother.”
“So nice to have a dutiful son,” she said. “What are your plans for the afternoon, Peter? Will you be working on your film?”
“No, there’s an Orson Welles series at the Film Forum, and Ben and I are going to go. He’s never seen a Welles film.”
“He has a treat in store,” Stone said.
“Yes, he does,” Peter agreed. “He’s gotten very excited about film. I don’t think he’d given it much thought until we met, but now he wants to see everything. ”
“You’re a good influence,” Stone said. “If Ben weren’t seeing so many movies with you, he’d be getting into some sort of mischief. That’s what his father says, anyway. Dino is very happy about your friendship.”
“So am I,” Peter said.
21
T he lights came up at Film Forum after Citizen Kane, and Peter and Ben rose and shuffled out of the theater with the crowd.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Peter said.
“That’s because I’m stunned,” Ben replied. “I want to see it again.”
“I have it on DVD,” Peter said. “Come on back to the house, and I’ll rack it up for you.”
They took a bus back to Turtle Bay, and Peter let them into the house with his key. Stone was standing just inside the door taking off his overcoat and hanging it in the hall closet.
“Hey, fellas,” Stone said. “How was the movie?”
“Movies,” Peter replied. “Ben liked them.”
“Especially Citizen Kane,” Ben said.
“We’re going to go upstairs and watch it again on DVD,” Peter said, “so please excuse us.”
“Of course, go on up.”
The boys ran up the stairs to Peter’s room, and he found the disc for Citizen Kane.
“Did you say Welles was twenty-four years old when he directed this movie?” Ben asked.
“That’s right, and he was already a big actor and director on Broadway and on the radio.”
“That’s unbelievable,” Ben said.
“We can beat that. Sit down.” He pointed Ben at a chair, then sat down himself. “Ben, I think you’re a smart guy.”
“That’s true, but I’m not as smart as you.”
“If that’s true, it’s an accident of nature, so don’t worry about it. What’s more important is, you’re a good guy, too.”
“Thanks, Peter. I feel the same way about you.”
“For the next four years or so, I’ve got to keep you out of trouble.”
Ben laughed. “You’ve been talking to my dad.”
“No, I’ve been talking to my dad, but he feels the same way about it as your dad. The thing is, they’re both right.”
Ben looked sheepish. “Yeah, I have been in a few scrapes, but I had some fun, too.”
“We’ve got to find some new ways for you to have fun,” Peter said, “because I’m not going to get involved in any scrapes. There’s too much at stake.”
“What’s at stake?”
“Have you ever noticed when some young celebrity gets into drugs or gets arrested for drunk driving, how long it takes him to get over those things? I mean, they end up in jail, then in court, then in rehab, then in community service, and most of them have to go through that two or three times before they finally get it. The ones who don’t get it end up in prison or dead.”
“Well, yeah, I’ve noticed that.”
“All that stuff they have to do to get straight takes up years of their lives. You and I don’t need to waste that kind of time getting out of trouble we should never have gotten into in the first place.”
“You have a point,” Ben conceded.
“Ben, I think you would make a terrific movie producer.”
“Really?”
“You’re smart, you’re good with money, you’re well organized. But you’re not motivated-not yet, anyway.”
“What should motivate me?”
“Would you like to be a movie producer?”
“Yeah, sure I would. Who wouldn’t?”
“Okay, everybody, but only a few are suited to the work. First of all, you love the movies.”
“Well, I love everything you’ve shown me.”
“A good motivation to have would be to want to make movies as good as or better than those.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“If you’re motivated, then making that happen becomes the most-well, one of the most important things in your life, and you do the things you have to do to achieve that ambition.”
“What are the things I have to do, if I want to be a movie producer?”
“First of all, you have to do the things that everybody ought to do anyway, like getting an education and behaving yourself. Then you have to pick out a few things to do that lead you toward your goal.”
“Such as?”
“Such as coming to Yale Drama School with me, instead of going to Columbia.”
“Drama school? Me? ”
“Why not? In drama school you’ll learn how to produce a play and a movie, and you’ll meet the kind of people you’ll later be working with when you’re a producer: directors, actors, writers,
technicians. And while you’re at it, you should take some business courses, too, particularly accounting and marketing. Then, maybe, you should get an MBA.”
“Drama school, business school,” Ben mused, half to himself. “You know, that makes a lot of sense- if I decided I wanted to be a movie producer.”