were constantly redressed for various movies. Within a space of three minutes, you could
drive past the Swiss Alps, a western town, a tenement block in Manhattan and a beach in
Hawaii. Lot three on the far side of Washington Boulevard housed millions of dollars’
worth of props and flat sets and was used to shoot outdoor spectacles.
All this was explained to Catherine by her guide, a young girl who was assigned to
take her to Stage 13. “It’s a city in itself,” she was saying proudly. “We produce our own
electricity, make enough food in the commissary to feed six thousand people a day and
build all our own sets right on the back lot. We’re completely self-sufficient. We don’t
need anybody.”
“Except an audience.”
As they walked along the street, they passed a castle that consisted of a facade with
two by fours propping it up. Across from it was a lake, and down the block was the lobby
of a San Francisco theater. No theater, just the lobby.
Catherine laughed aloud, and the girl stared at her.
“Is there anything wrong?” she asked.
“No,” Catherine said. “Everything is wonderful.”
Dozens of extras walked along the street, cowboys and Indians chatting amiably
together as they walked toward the sound stages. A man appeared unexpectedly from
around a corner and as Catherine stepped back to avoid him, she saw that he was a knight
in armor. Behind him walked a group of girls in bathing suits. Catherine decided that she
was going to like her brief fling in show business. She wished her father could have seen
this. He would have enjoyed it so much.
“Here we are,” the guide said. They were in front of a huge, gray building. A sign on
the side of it said “STAGE 13.”
“I’ll leave you here. Will you be all right?”
“Fine,” Catherine said. “Thank you.”
The guide nodded and left. Catherine turned back to the sound stage. A sign over the
door read: “DO NOT ENTER WHEN RED LIGHT IS ON.” The light was off, so
Catherine pulled the handle of the door and opened it. Or tried to. The door was
unexpectedly heavy, and it took all her strength to get it open.
When she stepped inside, Catherine found herself confronted by a second door as
heavy and massive as the first. It was like entering a decompression chamber.
Inside the cavernous sound stage, dozens of people were racing around, each one
busy on some mysterious errand. A group of men were in Air Corps uniforms, and
Catherine realized that they were the actors who would appear in the film. At a far corner
of the sound stage was an office set complete with desk, chairs and a large military map
hanging on the wall. Technicians were lighting the set.
“Excuse me,” she said to a man passing by. “Is Mister Allan Benjamin here?”