Star Trippers

"Maybe you should go ask the guys in back what's going on?" suggested Hector with a frown.

"Yeah...I should do that..." replied Artie, not really sure who to ask. He was getting up from his chair when the curtains rustled behind him, and a figure emerged. It took him a second to recognize his childhood crush since she looked almost like she was in disguise. Her red hair was hidden under a wide-brimmed hat, and a pair of dark sunglasses covered the upper half of her face. She was dressed in a pink blouse and blue jeans that hugged her still very nice rear-end while lugging a large bag which bulged at the sides.

"Ms. Travers?" said Artie in a shaky voice.

The figure ignored him walking over to the single unoccupied chair sliding slowly into it letting her back slump forward. Almost immediately she slipped off her sunglasses and let her head fall onto one arm draped across the table, the large hat dropping over it like a tent. There was no sign of movement from her for the next full minute. Artie glanced at Hector who had moved over to the head of the line, but all he got from his compatriot was a shrug. Taking a deep breath, Artie got up from his chair and closed the distance until he was standing over the hat that concealed a woman he thought of as a science fiction icon.

"Ms. Travers..." he said again.

There was no response at first, and he was just about to try tapping her on the shoulder when a disembodied voice croaked from under the hat.

"Water."

"Excuse me?"

The hat moved back and up, revealing the blood-shot eyes of Helen Travers. Her eyes appeared a bit unfocused, but they finally settled on Artie, taking him in with a slow up and down movement.

"I said water! What the fuck you deaf? Christ, this hangover is going to kill me!" she said, dropping her head back onto her arm.

Artie looked around frozen for a moment by this unexpected development, but he managed, at last, to get moving and slipped back through the curtains returning shortly with a bottle of cold water from the break room backstage.

"Um...Ms. Travers...Your water," he said, holding it toward her inert form.

The head rose again, more fully upward this time.

"See, you are good for something..." mumbled Helen as she snatched the bottle from his hand, opened it, and chugged half the contents in one go before pausing to fish some aspirin from her bag on the floor. She swallowed the white pills chasing them with another long pull from the water bottle almost emptying it.

"Oh! Man...This headache is a whopper! Let me tell you, Kid, never mix vodka and bourbon...Woah! Bad choice! Shit..."

She stopped to hold her head with one hand leaning forward in her chair.

"Yeah...Well, I'm sorry you're not feeling well, but the thing is we were supposed to start almost a half-hour ago and..." Artie didn't bother to finish the sentence but just waved his hand to take in the people gathered in the line not twenty feet away. Helen Travers slowly raised her head again, squinting at her waiting fans.

"Lovely...A nerd parade! Fuck...This is what my career has been reduced too..." she mumbled.

Artie was glad her voice was too low to carry to the people who waited in line.

"If you need a minute maybe we could..."

"No! The show must go on and all that shit right?" said Helen abruptly sitting up in her chair and whipping off the hat sending her thick, red, curly hair spilling out in all directions momentarily covering her face like a veil. She quickly pushed the stray locks back behind her, blowing a few away from her mouth for good measure. Now that he could see her Artie was impressed with how youthful she looked in spite of the dark circles around her eyes. She had the flawless skin, and full sultry lips that had attracted him as a teen, and her eyes were the deepest shade of green he had ever seen.

"Let the hounds loose!" she shouted to the amusement of the crowd who laughed in unison.

Artie hastily returned to his chair while Hector started to send people forward. It didn't take him long to get the hang of things. It wasn't particularly complicated. Fans would step forward and chose a photo to have signed or presented some memorabilia and Artie would take down their name on a sticky note if they wanted something personally written to them. He would remind them that they could get a photo with Ms. Travers if they had a cell phone, and sometimes people would opt for the combo with either himself or Hector doing the honors while the star-struck fan stood next to her with a wide grin on his face. The line moved quickly, and before long, the early rush had died down to a trickle then finally stopped altogether.

Artie caught his breath and worked to make sure he had closed the money bag, which he kept right by his side. Things had been happening so fast that the novelty that he was sitting here right next to Helen Travers hadn't sunk in yet. He tried not to stare, but it wasn't easy. Since the crowd had dropped off, Ms. Travers had pulled a cell phone from her purse and sat typing furiously at the screen a scowl twisting her otherwise pretty face.

"Eh...Excuse me, Ms..."

"Didn't they tell you not to talk to the talent," snapped Helen, not bothering to look up from her phone.

The rebuke hit Artie like a slap, and he turned away in embarrassment.

"Fuck! I got to piss like a racehorse," she thundered, standing up and vanishing back through the curtains so quickly they hardly moved.

"Man...She's kind of a bitch..." commented Hector who had come over to lean against the table across from Artie.

"Maybe she's just having a bad day," suggested Artie testily feeling like he should defend his high school celebrity crush though he had no idea why.

"Maybe, but she could at least be polite about it."

A few fans drifted into the line waiting patiently, but there was no sign that Helen intended to return, and after about ten minutes, they moved off.

"That's money in her pocket, walking away. She needs to get her ass back here," said Hector, annoyed.

"I guess maybe I should get someone to check on her," said Artie, not sure how to go about that exactly.

The curtains suddenly parted and with the same lightning rapidity as before Helen was back in her chair as if she had never been gone, but she did look a shade paler than when she had left.

"Um...Look, Ms. Travers, I know I'm not supposed to talk..."

"Then don't," she grumbled eyes still on her cell phone.

Hector shook his head and walked off to get a snack leaving Artie to fend for himself at the table.

"Fuck...I hate throwing up...Bananas...When did I even eat fucking bananas?" mumbled Helen under her breath as she tapped the virtual keyboard on her phone.

Artie leaned back in his chair, convinced that this was going to be a long day.

The rest of the morning went pretty much the same way. A few fans would drift by, and Helen would perk herself up long enough to at least give the appearance of being engaged. She would smile, laugh at their bad jokes, sign whatever was shoved in front of her and then as soon as they were out of earshot disparage them behind their backs. The more Artie listened, the more frustrated he became with her attitude and general demeanor, especially the way she ignored him and Hector except when she wanted another water. It was one thing to be aloof, but this woman, who he had admired so much growing up was downright caustic, and he had almost had enough of her abuse.

"I've had about all I want to take of this shit," said Artie after Helen had vanished behind the curtain to take a phone call.

"I would keep your opinions to yourself. She can get you thrown right out of here," cautioned Hector.

"Maybe so, but I don't see where she has the right to treat the two of us like dirt."

"You clearly have never worked with a celebrity before, Artie."

"Be that as it may, I still think she could be nicer. We have two more days of this to go."

Hector shrug seeming to say by his silence that it was Artie's funeral, so with a sigh he got up and went to slip behind the curtains. As soon as he emerged, he found Helen standing a few feet away her back to him as she spoke into her phone.

"Is that right? Well let me tell you, Harvey, I don't remember the maid service including blow jobs among their list of duties to be performed! Don't try to pretend like this was the first time either I saw the security footage of you and that tramp coming and going the last time I was out for a convention. What? It wasn't her day to work, and even if it had been since when does she clean houses in a low cut dress and heels? Fuck you, Harvey! I expect your shit out of the house by the time I get back...Asshole..."

Artie stood stock still feeling bad at eavesdropping on what was a private conversation. He started to try and sneak back through the curtains, but Helen rounded on him first her face twisting into an angry mask.

"Oh! This is just great! I suppose you're going to be Tweeting about this on your next break? Helen Traver's boyfriend fucks maid! Well, go ahead. It wouldn't be the first time I was run down in the trade papers or online."

"I'm sorry I heard all that Ms. Travers, but it's your private business. I promise I'll keep it to myself. I just wanted to say..."

"Say what!" she snapped impatiently when he hesitated.

"I was going to say that I get that your having a rough day, but we are all in this together, and it wouldn't hurt you to be polite to Hector and I. We are just trying to help you," said Artie in a rush putting some heat of his own into the words as they tumbled out. He turned and darted back through the curtains too scared to say anything more.

Dropping into his chair, he tried to slow his breathing while Hector joined him again.

"Did you talk to her?"

"Yes."

"Well? I can see you're still in one piece, so I guess it didn't go too badly."

"I can't say. I didn't give her a chance to answer me."

They both looked up when the curtains parted, and Helen rejoined them quietly taking her seat and placing her phone on the table in front of her. She seemed to be making a point to avoid eye contact with her two partners in crime. Artie considered saying something more, but a line was starting to queue up again, and he had to skip the idea. The next couple of hours things picked up, and he was too busy moving people along and collecting money to worry about conversation. Eventually, they did hit another lull though, and Artie stirred nervously in his chair wondering if Helen was going to say anything about their earlier talk. While he waited to learn his fate, he idly picked up one of the publicity stills in front of him looking at the photo of Helen Travers in her full Lexi McCann outfit in an action scene on a desert planet.

"Raid on Epsilon 7," said a voice over his shoulder making him jump. Helen had come up behind him so quietly he hadn't even noticed.

"I hated that episode," she continued, "a week shooting in the desert and two weeks trying to get all the sand out of my hair. It was hot as hell and in that get up I was sweating like a stuck pig."

"It was one of my favorites. The way you turned the tables on the Galvadeen captain and stole his ship, leaving him stranded."

"I take it you're a fan of the show."

"It was one of my favorites growing up. Heck, still is I watch it all the time. You...Well, you were my favorite character."

"I'll bet your opinion is going to change after today."

Artie didn't answer immediately.

"I'm not very good at apologies, but you're right I'm having a bad day, and I was taking it out on you and Harry."

"Hector," corrected Artie.

"Right...Hector. Look, I'm kind of a bear when I'm hungover, and I've been hung over a lot lately, but that doesn't excuse my behavior. I'm sorry, Artie."

If she was acting, it was an excellent job, and Artie decided to take her sudden reversal at face value.

"It's o.k. Ms. Travers. I won't hold a grudge."

"Thanks, and you can call me Helen. We are going to be working together very closely, after all."

She smiled at him for the first time, and it seemed to transform her face entirely making his heart skip a beat at just how beautiful she still was even two decades removed from the posters on his wall.

"If you have anything you would like me to sign for you, I would be happy too," she said, "for free of course. Got any hot memorabilia from the show? Limited edition Star Trippers ray gun or posters or something?"

Artie's mind instantly went back to the poster on his wall, but that was stored away in his closet back at the apartment.

"I honestly didn't think to bring anything, but if you could sign a photo for me that would be great."

Helen reached across and plucked the still he had in his hand away from him and carefully signed it, adding a line about him being her "Most handsome fan!" across the bottom making Artie blush.

He took the photo back, admiring it in a new light.

"Do you get a lot of memorabilia to sign?" he asked.

"Most people just want the photos, but every once in a while they bring some prop from the old show. The one I get the most is this old bathing suit poster of me. Guys love to shove that one in my face. I admit it was my best seller, but it makes me long for the days when I still had that body."

Artie swallowed and chuckled nervously, "I vaguely recall that poster. I think you would still be able to fill out that outfit."

He immediately regretted saying that last part as soon as the words left his mouth, but if Helen was upset by it, she didn't show it. If anything she smiled even wider while tossing her head back, making her curls jump around her face.

"That's sweet of you. Patently untrue, but sweet just the same."

Another group of fans arrived at that point, breaking up their brief conversation, but Artie felt better about things now that they had buried the hatchet to some degree. The afternoon marched on, and before he knew it, the first day was winding down. He took a break around dinner time to grab a hot dog from the free food concession set up in the back area for the staff of the convention and ran into Dave slurping down a bowl of chili.

"How's it going? You manage a hot date with Helen Travers yet?"

"We got off to kind of a rough start, but I think things are settling down now," remarked Artie between bites of his hot dog.

"It's crazy over at our table. I don't think the line ever goes down. Honestly, I don't know how Fremont signs all those autographs without his hand cramping up."

"Lots of practice I guess," replied Artie noticing that Tina had entered the break room. He waved her over and introduced her to Dave.

"So did your hero live up to your expectations?" she asked.

"Not exactly...I mean Ms. Travers has her issues, but I think she was warming up to me at the end."

Tina raised an eyebrow at that but didn't comment busing herself by piling fixings on her own hot dog.

"How are things with the wrestler?"

"He has way more fans than I would have ever imagined. The line has been steady all day, and my legs are sore from standing, but he seems like a nice guy."

"You know they give us break times on Saturdays and Sundays because the crowds are bigger. Let's go see Roger Fremont's celebrity Q&A tomorrow," suggested Dave.

"I would be down for that," commented Tina.

"Maybe after we could hit the floor and check out the vendor's room. I could always use more stuff," added Artie.

"You guys have any plans tonight?" asked Tina casually.

"I was going to the sci-fi film festival their doing in Hall B. I think they're showing "Martian Death from Above!" if I heard right," said Dave.

"What about you, Artie?"

"Um...I don't know. It's been a long day I might go back to my room and rest," he said, caught off guard by her question.

"Oh...So you have rooms here. That's lucky for you guys. I have to drive back uptown to my apartment. It's a pain, but I'm short on funds right now."

Tina gave Artie a sidelong glance before she threw the rest of her hot dog in a nearby receptacle and turned to go.

"Well, back to my line. I'll see you guys later."

Dave waited until the petite blond had vanished before smacking his buddy on the arm.

"Wow! Are you dense."

"What are you talking about?"

"You couldn't see that Tina chick was practically waving a sign over her head? 'Hey nerd ask me out tonight, and I might share your room later.'"

"Really? I think you're reading a lot into a few words. I didn't get that vibe at all from her."

"I'm starting to see why you spend your time writing erotic fiction and not living it."

"Ouch! That was way harsh, Man!"

"I call it as I see it. Anyway, I need to go too. Check you later, Pal."

Artie watched his friend leave and started to head out himself to finish his shift. On the way back to his table, he thought about what Dave had said about Tina. It wasn't that Artie was utterly inexperienced with women, he had dated off and on in college and he was certainly no virgin, but it had been a while since his last girlfriend.

"I'm just out of practice," he thought to himself as he returned to the table though it was true that his innate shyness often tripped him up with women as well.

It seemed to him that Helen was trying a little harder to be personable when he got back even going so far as to autograph a free photo for Hector and regale the two of them with a story about dislocating her knee trying to do her own stunt in a Western she had shot over in Italy.

"It was a low budget thing I did before I got Star Trippers. I don't think anyone ever saw it."

"Prairie Woman of Death? I found a copy of it on E-Bay a couple of years ago," said Artie.

Helen laughed and started looking through her large bag, "I need to find my wallet. How much did you pay for it? I owe you that much for being subjected to that piece of crap."

"It wasn't that bad..."

"Are you kidding me? Half the actors could barely speak English, and the director was stone drunk almost every day of the shoot."

"I'm guessing Star Trippers was a step up?" asked Hector.

"Absolutely. The network believed in it at least at the beginning. They gave us a good budget, and we had top of the line effects for the time. There was a stretch there when I thought it was going to launch me to even bigger things...Well, that didn't happen. Instead, I got typecast, and nobody wanted me for anything else except the occasional commercial."

"At least you have all the fans who remember you for bringing Lexi McCann to life that has to count for something?" cut in Artie.

"It does count for something. Forty dollars for an autograph or thirty for a photo" replied Helen with a hint of sarcasm.

"Don't forget fifty for a combo," said Hector

"Thanks, Hector. How could I forget."

"I mean that as a character, Lexi McCann was an icon to some people. A tough, no-nonsense woman who took command when she had to and used her brain as well as her brawn to solve problems. There wasn't a lot of role models like that on T.V. back then," offered Artie.

Helen smiled and nodded, looking almost embarrassed at his praise.

"I hear that from time to time. I know I should appreciate it I suppose, but when your career stagnates because of one role you took it can kind of stick in your craw."

The nearing end of the first day of the convention brought another flood of last-minute autograph seekers which Artie handled efficiently enough. He was wearing down a bit after the long day and looking forward to getting to his room and taking a break from the constant noise and questions. He thought about trying to find Tina before she left, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. Frankly, Dave had put the idea in his head that she was after him for a hookup, and he found the thought to be supremely intimidating. Instead, he went back to his room, deciding that a hot shower and a bed was the best he could hope for that night.