The French Quarter Just Off Douglas, or A Streetcar Named Rock Island

by Jeff Baker

The girl in the print dress stepped out the door, past the hanging plants, walked up to the metal railing, put her hand to her forehead and exclaimed: “Oh, what are we going to do? There’s a hurricane on the way, it’s almost Mardi Gras and I can’t make up my mind between…”

The kid behind the super-8 camera on the tripod sighed.

“Becky, what are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m improvising, Bryant, remember?” Becky said.

“Yeah, but stick to the story,” Bryant said. “Besides, it’s not Mardi Gras and there’s no hurricane in the script.”

“There’s hardly any script either,” Johnny grumbled standing behind Bryant watching the whole thing.

“Never mind that, you just remember what you’re supposed to do.” Bryant took a deep breath trying not to be too exasperated. He’d written the script for their film class after seeing the spot in downtown Wichita that he thought could pass for New Orleans. He’d never been to New Orleans but he’d seen pictures. Anyway, they wouldn’t be up for the Academy Award for 1977. Hopefully, they’d just get an “A” on the project.

“Okay, let’s start up again.” Bryant said. “Marco, this is your big scene.”

“I still don’t have my lines,” Marco said.

“There really aren’t any. We don’t have sound, remember?” Bryant said. “Just remember the story, okay? You’re the Creole guy she’s really in love with, not her stuffy boyfriend she has to marry for…”

“That’s another thing; I’m not Creole, I’m Mexican…” Marco said.

“The guy who played Charlie Chan wasn’t Chinese either.” Bryant said. “You’re an actor, it’s the magic of the movies. I know, this is not exactly Tennessee Williams but this project is due in three weeks and there’s developing and editing…”

“Okay,” Marco said, getting into position by the stairs at the outside of the old warehouse they were using to film.

“All ready…Action!” Bryant said.

It actually looked good. Marco walked up to Becky and pleaded with her to run off with him, while she professed her love to him but her need to marry her rich fiance, played by Johnny. In reality, Marco and Becky couldn’t stand each other.

Behind the camera, Bryant waved with one hand. “Okay, Johnny. This is your scene. “Get up there and break that up.” That would lead to the climactic final fight where one of them would get shot. Bryant hadn’t decided which one yet.

Bryant was standing at the other side of the street so he could get the scene by the doorway in the scene. It looked perfect. Johnny walked up to Marco and Becky and got between them, looking angry.

There was a rumble as a tall truck passed between the camera and the actors behind the railing.

Bryant thought for a moment about yelling “Cut” like a director he’d seen on a TV show once.

Johnny shrugged as Marco called out: “I’m going to the movies. And I’m going to get a glass menagerie.”

Bryant smiled. At least somebody else had read Tennessee Williams.

—end—

Author’s Note: Two of the streets in the downtown Delano District of Wichita (where I took the picture and set the story) are Rock Island and Douglas.