Driving back, they watched the sunset in glimpses between the mountains.

Andy told several stories about his father and Phil laughed at all of them. After they passed the Vasquez Rocks, he started a new one. "Back when he was a stuntman, Woody doubled for Tim Robbins in Howard the Duck."

"Wait," said Phil. "Robbins is six-foot-five, your dad is like five-nine?"

"In his boots, maybe. I mentioned that when he told me the story. He said, 'That's why they call it a stunt.' He had the same skinny build as Robbins back then. Anyway, this footage ended up cut from the film or I suppose it would have been a big hit." Andy grinned and Phil chuckled. "Robbins' character is in this ultra-light airplane, so Woody is dressed as him and sitting in the back seat of the plane with one of the people doing the stunts for the duck sitting between his knees holding the tiller or whatever that steering thing is called."

"Uh huh," said Phil, turning off the Antelope Valley Freeway and onto the Golden State. They'd reached the north end of the San Fernando Valley and lights on cars and buildings began to come on all around them.

Andy continued, "They're going to lift the plane up in front of a blue screen and shake it and Woody is supposed to climb up and fix the motor or something and then fall out and hang upside down from the landing wheels."

"That is in the movie, I've seen it."

"Yeah, but it's cut into about eight different shots and some of them really are Tim Robbins. This shot was supposed to be all one take, a wild idea the second unit director had, I think."

"Oh, okay," said Phil.

"Well, they tried it a few times, and something kept going wrong, one thing or another and they would start over and try it again. The director is getting pissy and the cameraman is getting pissy and Woody is getting pissed-off."

Phil grinned. Andy hadn't used such words in front of him before but the story was about Woody, it sort of required them.

"So he's climbing back into the cockpit, if that lawn chair thing is a cockpit on an ultra-light, and he says to the duck --who's been doing nothing but holding the tiller and bouncing around a bit in the seat-- Woody says, 'Why don't you try stroking that thing a few times and maybe we can all get out of here quicker?'"

Phil laughed.

"Well, the person in the duck suit right then was a stuntwoman and she thought it was funny, too, but the director got offended --he said on her behalf-- but probably because the whole crew laughed, and Woody was fired. And they didn't use any of the footage they had shot."

They both laughed.

"Is that a true story?" asked Phil.

"As true as it gets in Hollywood," Andy admitted. "What Woody actually said was much cruder but I didn't want to quote him exactly."

Phil glanced over at him and grinned. "You're blushing so I think I can guess."

"The sun is down, it's too dark for you to tell if I'm blushing," said Andy.

"Yeah, but you didn't deny it."

"I'm not blushing."

"Too late. I can feel the heat from here," said Phil.

Andy laughed and they drove on toward Burbank.

"You wanna make any stops before we get back to the motel?" asked Phil.

"I guess not," said Andy. "Woody packed the things I wanted from home and we got that. And I bought other stuff yesterday, so I'm good."

"Got your nightie?" asked Phil.

"You're never going to see me in a nightie unless the camera is rolling," said Andy.

"Ouch," said Phil.

Andy laughed.

"This whole idea of dressing as a girl, living as a girl, for a whole year doesn't bother you?"

"Not as much as you might think," said Andy. "I've done roles in drag before."

"The military school thing...?"

Andy nodded. "Yeah, four years ago, Woody was hospitalized with a broken neck; my mom had a nervous breakdown and her parents, my grandparents, took me in. Amos Wilson decided I needed to man-up so he signed me into a military-themed middle school in Texas. When he found out I played Lady Macbeth in the school play, he about laid an egg. And that was the end of that little experiment."

Phil laughed. "Didn't know that part. But I saw the pictures, you made a rather striking Lady."

"It was the red wig and the black dress, costuming was sensational. Nearly white makeup, too, and I will take credit for that idea."

"You said roles?"

Andy shrugged. "We had a band for a bit, some friends and I. Since I sing alto, I used to use some stage costumes to do the girl numbers."

"You sing alto?"

Andy suddenly belted out, "Michael Rennie was ill, the Day the Earth Stood Still but he told us -- where we sta-a-and!"

"Yikes. Isn't that Riff Raff singing that?"

Andy nodded. "Richard O'Brien, in the movie, with Quinn lip-syncing. But in the stage play, it's Magenta as Usherette."

"Huh? You played Magenta in the stage play?"

"No, we just did a show of some of the music, the better known parts. Lot of costume changes."

"What happened to the band?"

Andy blinked. "Terry and Bobby, our songwriting guitar brothers, were killed in a car wreck. Hayseed, uh, Henry, our drummer, joined another band and moved away. Carla, the..., our soprano, got married and quit performing. I don't know what happened to Dixie Rogers, our bass player. He just disappeared."

"Were you guys any good?"

"Good enough for Palmdale, I guess," said Andy. "Anybody can make an MP3 and put their music on the internet today. We didn't get offered any studio contracts."

"What was the band name? Any You Tube videos?"

"Uh, yeah, bad ones. The name was bad too. Rocky Vasquez and the Antelopes."

Phil laughed. "Yeah, that's a pretty bad band name."

"We didn't even have any Hispanics in the band," said Andy, laughing, too. "Someone writing in the school paper called us 'Vast Noise and the Cantaloupes.' We almost changed it."

Phil laughed even harder. "That would have been better," he gasped.

"I know, right?" said Andy.

"You got any plans for tomorrow?" asked Phil as he pulled into the parking space near Andy's room in the motel.

"Not really. I figured the studio would call me with a schedule."

"Yeah, but it might be days. This is not the most efficient business on the planet, you know," said Phil. "I'll pick you up and we can go to breakfast again, they'll call to tell me your schedule before they call you, anyway."

"Okay." They got out of the car and Phil carried in the larger bag of things they had picked up at Woody's, a tan suitcase. Andy got the blue overnighter and what looked like a suit bag.

"What's in that?" asked Phil pointing at the suit bag.

"My prom gown," said Andy. "I thought maybe I could wear it on the show."

Phil blinked as he set the suitcase down near the bed.

"You are kidding, right?"

"Sort of," Andy said. "It belonged to Carla but she got pregnant and dropped out of school to get married and left the gown with me. I was going to try to alter it for a stage costume. But the band broke up when the...."

"Oh," said Phil.

"You sew?"

"Sá­," said Andy. "So-so."

Phil laughed. "...and Kook -- amunga! You're too young to know those guys."

"So are you," said Andy. "But Jack Benny and Mel Blanc are classic."

"Can I see the gown?"

"No," said Andy.

"Why not?"

"'Cause then you'd want me to try it on for you."

Phil laughed. "Not without the cameras running?"

"That's right," said Andy, smiling.

"You altered it already?"

"No, and that's another reason. It fits like a tent."

They stood there for a moment, neither saying anything.

"Get out of here, Phil," said Andy.

Phil picked up the suitcase and put it on the little folding stand provided for that. "Breakfast at eight?"

Andy nodded. "Out," he said.

Phil left, whistling.

It wasn't till after the door closed that Andy recognized the tune.