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7
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Howard and Ed walked out of the diner and stood on the sidewalk in front of it, just as Ed had done before he came in.
Howard clapped a hand over Ed's shoulder. "So, I'm gonna call you in a month for the script. You're really sure you can handle all of it?" Howard asked.
Ed nodded. "Sure as sugar."
Howard nodded back. "Say, you've got a wife, right? Well, how about you bring the Misses over to my house. You can have dinner with me and my wife. What day's good for you?"
Ed looked at Howard, astonished. The thought of setting foot inside THE Howard Brinkley's house, let alone having dinner with him gave him tingly feelings all over. "Why, whatever day's good for you, of course, Mr. Brinkley!"
Howard grinned at him. "You swell kid. How about Tuesday?"
Ed nodded vigorously. "Tuesday is good."
"Then Tuesday it is." Howard removed his hand from Ed's shoulder and reached into his pocket. He brought out a card and placed it in Ed's hand. "That's my address. I guess I'll be seeing you then. Come around four thirty or something." He turned around and began to walk away down the sidewalk.
Ed watched Howard's figure recede into the distance, then began down the sidewalk opposite the direction Howard had taken. As he walked, he suddenly remembered the card and looked down at it. It read:
FILM DIRECTOR
MR. HOWARD R. BRINKLEY
765 ROSEDALE AVE.
HOLLYWOOD
CALIFORNIA
PUTTING A SPIN ON YOUR EVERYDAY MOVIE SINCE 1938.
Ed smiled down at the card. There was the silhouette of a film camera to the right of the text that was written on the card.
All of a sudden, Ed felt himself hit something. He looked up, startled, and saw a man.
"Hey! Watch it, Mister," The man yelled, walking out of Ed's path.
Ed turned around to the fleeing man. "Sorry!" He called to the man's back.
The man did not turn around.