the protagonist allowed me to create a depth of character I couldn’t have managed before. And as far as the angels and the end of the world… it’s only reasonable that our staunch and stable government would use the men in black and S.W.A.T. to try and stop it.
NOW SHOWING ON SCREEN 5
The Sad Last Love of Cary Grant
Starring Cary Grant as the color blind lover
and Miranda as the colorful object
“Some love stories make me want to rip my heart out. This one makes me want to poke my eyes out with a fork.”
–New York Love Line
In ROTOSCOPE
Cary Grant stood upon a broken crest of land in Sunken City staring out across the sanguine water. There had been a storm last night and the light shone differently because of it. Flat gray clouds hung arrogant and proud in a sky scrubbed gray. Flotsam and jetsam bobbed within foamy eddies, winking innocently, guiltless in destruction, unconcerned that each wave ate away at a land loved by millions. The light maintained a hopeful quality that seemed to promise better things to come, if only one had the fortitude to bear it witness. Stark. Monochromatic. Pure. The storm had done its job.
A spasm shook him. His vision blurred, dimmed, then corrected. He brought his hands up and rubbed his temples vigorously trying his best to ignore, perhaps even halt the pain.
Cary Grant stepped carefully from the mangle of asphalt to what was left of a snapped sidewalk, heading for the highest point in Sunken City where his vista would be unobstructed. Sunken City was what remained of the 40th and final block of South Pacific Avenue. The 1997 Northridge earthquake had managed to rattle the earth enough to send this tip of California sliding into the ocean. With crevices and earthen mounds, Sunken City was more moonscape than cityscape.
His vision dimmed again causing him to stumble. Rocky outcroppings became dark shadows. He held his hand in front of his face, but could barely make it out. Closing his eyes, he counted to ten, then forced himself to breathe evenly and not panic. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, his vision had returned – what there was of it. Cary reached out, gripped a broken piece of rebar and hauled himself up and over a small rise feeling like a survivor of the storm rather than a witness.
Tudose was always going on and on about the blues and the greens and the yellows of the Pacific Ocean, each tint and hue a concept rather than a reality. Forgetful of Cary's colorblindness, Tudose would play his harmonica and wax poetic about the pastel qualities of the perfect sunset, staring teary-eyed towards the dying light. Cary didn't know what a pastel was, or at least he didn't until a month ago. Ever since he could remember, he saw things in differing shades of gray, the monotony only broken when black or white juxtaposed their nature. Color was beyond the limits of his vision. Color was beyond his understanding.
Or at least it had been.
Until a month ago.
Until he discovered that small place hidden in the alleys of San Pedro.
***
His mother had never told him his real name. She'd legally changed it to Cary Grant when he was four years old – partly because of his black and white life, and partly because Cary Grant was her very favorite actor. She'd called him My Little Movie Star and had clothes specially made for him. Sleek and dark, the fine poplin and silk suits matched the styles of his namesake. Each new movie meant a new outfit, his mother clapping and giggling as he tried them on in front of perplexed tailors.
Cary had always been eager to please his mother. With no father and only an estranged aunt who lived somewhere in the Florida panhandle, he and his mother were alone in the world. "It's just you and me kid. We only have us to count on." That knowledge had kept him from telling his mother about the bullies and the teasing. She'd have been heartbroken to know that her infatuation with a dead actor had created a misery no child should feel. So instead of complaining, he'd learned to protect himself by embracing his role.
He'd spent hours learning how to speak in the signature clipped cadence. He'd studied the actor's mannerisms. Although it had taken him months to perfect, he'd learned to move with the casual elegance that had made women swoon and men