John Wayne - Demon Hunter

 

“I’ll tell you this, but don’t make too much of it.”

He cocked his head my way and, for a moment, squinted imposingly at me.  He turned then and looked away from the campfire, out into the darkness.  I had admired this man my entire life.  He was an icon.  A cowboy.  A soldier.  A hard-bitten, hard drinking, survivor of many battles and betrayals.  He always got his man and he always got even.

We had finished the interview that afternoon and I was going back to New York the next morning. 

 I assumed it was just a story.

“Well, kid, it sounds like one, but … “ He began coughing.  This went on for a while and I thought about the distance to the nearest town. 

He stopped at last and took a slug from the bottle we were passing back and forth.

He nodded his thanks. 

“We were in Europe filming The Longest Day.   It was wet as hell and wasn’t getting any better.  We couldn’t shoot and were just hanging around waiting.  At this point, we had been drunk for a couple of days.  This scrawny little kid came up and started pulling on my sleeve.  His English was terrible, but we got the idea that he needed our help. 

“He took me and Bob Mitchum to a little house.  A shack, really, and a woman, good looking, too, who spoke a little better than he did, told us a wild tale about some guy who lived in their village, a big shot.  Had a big house and all.

“The kid said his dad had gone to see this guy and never returned.  Bob and I rolled our eyes and told him he’d probably be back soon.  The kid and the woman were really worked up and convinced us to go see this guy.  What the hell, we thought.  We weren’t doing anything anyway.  Maybe we could help?

“By the time we got to the big house, it was dark and the weather had gotten worse, if that was possible.  We knocked at this huge door that looked as if it had been there forever.”

He started coughing again and I wondered if he was really sick or doing this for effect.  He took another swig.  He was quiet, immobile, as if he were looking into the past.

“And… “ I prompted.

“Well, we were kept waiting there, while the butler, or whatever he was, went to get the guy.  He finally appeared and looked like Halloween, only scarier.   Cape, black hair, the whole thing.  Bob started laughing and said, ‘Count, we’re very glad to meet you.’  He was a tall guy and bowed toward us and smiled.  His teeth looked huge and sharp.   His gums were blood red.  The boy and his mother hid behind us.

“Well, as I said, I was pretty looped, but this guy scared me plenty and I wanted to get the hell out of there.   I blurted out, ‘What about his dad?’

“The count, or whatever he was, drew himself up and his smile turned nasty.  He raised his arms and was holding the cape out at his sides, like he was going to take off or something.

“Bob, in that smooth manner and deep voice he had, slowly buttered him up and we made our apologies and left.  I felt like a little girl, but we almost ran back to the village.   That’s the way the whole thing started.”

“Jesus!”

“Jesus is right.  Scared the hell out of me.  We talked about it all night and went back the next day, but the whole placed was closed up.  It was as if no one had ever been there. 

“Before we went back to the States, I promised both of them I’d try to find out what had happened.  That was the beginning of something that has been as important to me as my career and has been a part of my life ever since.  I’m not going to tell you anymore than that.  So, don’t even bother asking.”

“Are you kidding?  What a story!”

He looked at me, nailing me with his good eye. 

“Kid, it isn’t a story.  And, if anyone asks me about it, I’ll deny it.”

That’s the way we left it.  I thought about it all the way back to New York.   It was unbelievable and, maybe he was just putting me on, but it’s something I’ve never forgotten.  It’s haunted me ever since.