I walked up to Jim’s for dinner that night. He had a big piece of fresh haddock he wanted to share and I had a jug of white wine. The air was cool as the afternoon sun lit up the town. I took my time checking out the store fronts along Main Street. Grapes were on sale at Toziers, Coastal Coffee was making lobster rolls now, and the Frame Shop was having a two-for-one special on all their custom wood frame orders. I took the shortcut through the Firehouse parking lot and let myself in to Jim’s trailer without knocking. He was on the couch reading Maine Magazine. I poured us both a glass of wine and took my usual place in his cane-seated rocking chair.
“Dinner’s going to be a few minutes. I just put the oven on to preheat.”
“What’s that you’re reading?”
“I picked it up at that new market in Northport. It’s called Maine Magazine. It’s mostly ads but there’s a good article on Monhegan Island. Have a look while I get dinner going.”
I thumbed through the glossy pages, my head still spinning with Clyde and Clayton and my new freelance gig. Then I picked up the word ‘screenwriting’ in an interview article with Bill Russell. I read it from the beginning and was fascinated. He was a Maine novelist and had made the leap to screenwriting through the back door – that is getting the job of writing the screenplay for one of his own novels. He was living in Camden and making a nice living from his writing. I was inspired. Jim was chatting at me the whole time I was reading the article but I didn’t hear a word he said.
“This article on Bill Russell is pretty interesting.”
“Oh, I met him last summer.”
“What? Really?”
“Yes. He was signing copies of his new novel at Left Bank Books.”
“You really get around, Jim.”
“Yeah, we really hit it off. We’ve had coffee a few times since. He is very interested in existentialism. We’re supposed to go sailing next week.”
“What! Really? Can I come along?”
“Sure, if you want to. But I thought you hated sailing. Don’t you get seasick?”
“Yes, but I can bring a pail. It’ll be fun!”
