Chapter One
They liked me.
The audience was leaning in to me, nodding, approving, andas I finished big with "Birth of the Blues" their applause was akiss on the lips.
It was November 1954, we were playing the New Frontierin Las Vegas, and after twenty-six years we were starting tomake our move. People were hearing about the Will MastinTrio and "the kid in the middle." We were contenders and theywere rooting us in.
The glow from the casino was lighting up the desert, and asthe doors swung open and people came out, the sound ofmoney, laughs, and music poured past them as if there was justtoo much hilarity inside to stay bottled up. It was out of myway but I felt like walking through there for the sheer joy ofknowing I could.
"Swingin' show, Sam." ... "Here, make room for Sammy."
"Thanks, not tonight. Gotta run into L.A. Catch ya tomo
Chapter One
They liked me.
The audience was leaning in to me, nodding, approving, andas I finished big with "Birth of the Blues" their applause was akiss on the lips.
It was November 1954, we were playing the New Frontierin Las Vegas, and after twenty-six years we were starting tomake our move. People were hearing about the Will MastinTrio and "the kid in the middle." We were contenders and theywere rooting us in.
The glow from the casino was lighting up the desert, and asthe doors swung open and people came out, the sound ofmoney, laughs, and music poured past them as if there was justtoo much hilarity inside to stay bottled up. It was out of myway but I felt like walking through there for the sheer joy ofknowing I could.
"Swingin' show, Sam." ... "Here, make room for Sammy."
"Thanks, not tonight. Gotta run into L.A. Catch ya tomorrow."
The crowds opened up for me and I circled the room twice,getting loaded on the atmosphere they'd kept us away from theother times we'd played Vegas, when there'd been a law againstme, when it had been "Sorry, but you're not allowed in thecasino—you understand." While the other acts had laughs andgambled, we went back to the colored side of town and we"understood." But now we didn't have to understand.
Two of the chorus chicks at the roulette table made roomfor me. I had no desire to gamble, but people were gatheringaround. I dropped five one-hundred-dollar bills on thetable. "On the red, please." I heard "Sammydavis ... Sammydavis..." The chicks were digging the big-time move. Thedealer spun the wheel. I shook my fist at him. "If you yell`black' there's gonna be a race riot." It got a laugh. The ballclicked into the red six. I split my winnings, slid one pile toeach of the girls, and playing it "Cary Grant on the FrenchRiviera," I turned and rode away on their gasps.
Walking to my suite, I enjoyed the bittersweet of contrast,remembering, "You people can't stay here. You'll have to find aboardinghouse in the—uh, on the other side of town." Nowthey wanted us enough so that we were bigger than Jim Crow.They were paying us $7,500 a week, the best money we'd evermade, but that was the least of the payoff. A genie had materializedout of show business and said, "You're going to be a star,now you're as good as anybody," and he'd handed us a solid-goldkey to every door that had ever been slammed in ourfaces.
I called room service for a hamburger. There was a knock atthe door. One of the chorus kids was standing there wearingskintight blue jeans. I laughed. "They've got crazy room servicehere." She didn't understand the joke but she laughed anyway.When you're making it you get laughs with "Good morning."
I told Charley, my dresser, "You drive the first half while Icatch a few hours' sleep in back." As the car rolled down theStrip toward the highway, I saw the big neon sign flashing myname across the desert. I could smell the brand-new leather as Irested my face against it and I kissed that expensive seat withall the love I had for everything it represented.
I was glad to take over the driving. Nobody's inventedbooze that'll give you a kick like the first few times you driveyour first Cadillac convertible. The sun was coming up over themountains and I saw the day growing bigger, brighter everyminute. It seemed as though nothing bad had ever happened. Iwas actively aware that the edge of the window was exactly theright height for my left elbow. My fingers fit perfectly into theridges around the steering wheel, and the clear desert airstreaming in through the window was wrapping itself aroundmy face like some gorgeous, swinging chick giving me a facial.
I turned on the radio and I heard my own voice singing"Hey, There." Oh, God! What are the odds against turning onthe radio to the exact station at the exact moment when a discjockey is playing your first hit? For a second I was afraid thatlife was getting so good that something would have to happento take it all away. But the car, the suite in Vegas, the hit record,were the start of a new life. It had all come from show businessand as long as God let me keep my talent it would keep oncoming. We were building, and any day now we'd really breakwide open and I'd be a star. A real goddam star! And nobodycould ever again tell me, "Here, this is your corner of theworld. Stay there." And that would be it, that would be goddamit!
We were on a double-lane highway. A green car passed me,the first car I'd seen in ten minutes. I was on my way to recordmy first movie sound track. I visualized myself driving throughthe gate at Universal in my own Cadillac convertible. Theguard was tipping his hat. "Good morning, Mr. Davis. They'rewaiting for you on sound stage Number One."
The green car was slowing down but it wasn't pulling overto the right; they were pulling over to the left. I knew a womanwas driving because I'd noticed her hat. I moved into the rightlane but as I did she started moving into it, too, but not all theway, she was straddling the two lanes. Now what the hell is shetrying to do? Oh, she's not going to make a U-turn on the parkway!Or is she? Why else would she be slowing down? Shemust have missed her turnoff. I got way over to the right to giveher room but still she stayed in the middle ... then a little left... a little right ... now it looked like she wanted to stop.Make up your mind, lady. She cut sharp to the left, hooking outto make a wide U-turn, then stopped, stretched out across bothlanes like a roadblock. I had to use the oncoming lane to swingaround her. But suddenly several cars were coming toward me.I was boxed in. I hit my brakes. Only a second ago she hadseemed to be a mile away. I was jamming on the brake with allmy strength and pulling back on the wheel as though hoping Icould pull the car to a stop with my two hands. I knew I wasgoing to hit her. I cut the wheel as hard as I could toward herrear fender, trying at least not to make it broadside where thedriver was sitting.... I saw the impact spin her car completelyaround and hurl it out of sight, then my forehead slammed intomy steering wheel.
Then I heard Charley moaning in the back. Thank God, hewas alive too. I felt blood running down my face and into myeyes.
I was afraid to see what had happened to Charley. When Iturned around he was trying to get up off the floor. "Charley?You okay?" I opened my door and got out to help him. Ireached into the back seat and took hold of his arm. When hestood up I could see his jaw hanging loose and blood comingout of his mouth "Oh, God! I'm sorry, Charley."
Someone said, "It's Sammy Davis." I started up the roadto see what had happened to the woman, but a soldier stoppedme. "They're all right over there. We better get you to a hospital."
I pulled the soldier over to Charley. He had both hands infront of his mouth and the blood was pouring through his fingers.I put my arm around him. He looked up at me and madea horrible choking sound, trying to speak. He pointed to myface, closed his eyes, and moaned. As I ran my hand over mycheek I felt my eye hanging there by a string. Frantically I triedto stuff it back in, like if I could do that it would stay there andnobody would know, it would be as though nothing had happened.The ground went out from under me and I was on myknees. "Don't let me go blind. Please, God, don't take it allaway...."
I heard a siren, and I knew I was in an ambulance. Can it reallyhappen this way? Twenty-six years of working, and takingit, and reaching—was all that for nothing? Can you finally getit and blow it so fast? Was that little touch all there was forme? For my whole life? I'm never going to be a star?
They're going to hate me again.
Copyright © 2000 Burt Boyar Investments LLC. All rights reserved.
