Volume I, Issue iii

November 1998

What's Cookin' on the Backburner: Episode 2 by Judy Ellison

Episode 2: "Hang Down Your Head, Tom Baker..."

"He told me he had to run an errand, and then he never came back," said Taggert.

"He asked me where he could buy some almond roca," said Dara.

"Wehhhhl," Rick replied, his voice sliding from a yawn into normal speech, "I hear he's chasing after a serial killer."

"With almond roca?" asked Justus.

"Geez," griped Taggert, "I should be so lucky. I got four teenagers doin' all my detective work..."

"Do you think there'll be a trial soon?" asked Dara, in a hopeful voice.

"I suppose," said Rick, "but I doubt that you'll be involved..."

"Damn," muttered Dara, and then twisted in her bar stool to face Taggert:

"Do you want to have sex again, Marcus?"

"After what you did to me?"

"Are you still peeved about that?" Without pausing for a reply, Dara executed a well-practiced 180-degree turn: "What about you, Justus?"

"Nice try, Honey, but I think it's gonna take more than sex to get us out of the Backburner..."

"Take it from me, drugs don't work either..." interjected Alan, from across the room.

"Well, I guess that leaves rock'n'roll then, doesn't it?" chirped Mr. Murty.

Audrey laughed, "Oh Ted, you're such a card..."

"Yeah, what are you so cheerful about, Murty?" asked Tony.

"He's probably overjoyed that he's not me..." The room became silent, save for the sound of torsos shifting simultaneously on leather seats to afford their owners a better view of the speaker, standing in the doorway.

Taggert was the first to react: "How the hell did you escape from prison, Tom?"

"I walked out," he replied, "No one's watching me anymore..." He took off his beret and wrung it nervously in his hands as he took a few tentative steps into the bar. "I just wanted to say... "

"... that you're sorry?!" cried Audrey, "How dare you show your face in here?"

She leapt to her feet, but Mr. Murty caught her by the arm. "Now Audrey, remember," he said, gesturing with his free hand toward the doorway: "Out there, he's an unscrupulous criminal, capable of any number of heinous acts on any given day, but in here, he's just a helpless plot-device: his behavior dictated entirely by the whims of others..."

Audrey reseated herself. "Of course. I apologize, Tom," she said, "I guess I just forgot where I was, for a moment..."

"Perfectly understandable, Mrs. Hardy." Tom waved off her apology and seated himself at their table. He turned to Ted Murty and smiled: "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ted."

"Don't mention it, Tom," replied Ted, "After all: There, but for the grace of Richard, go I..."

"Who's Richard?" asked Audrey.

Ted shifted uncomfortably in his seat: "Um... no one you ever need know about, Audrey...."

"Well... minor characters like me always make the easiest guilty parties," replied Tom, "but, at first, I thought none of this would touch me. Sure, I was Emily's photographer, and a logical suspect in that blackmailing case, but then, that assistant with the bad wig showed up and started behaving suspiciously..."

"Yeah..." said Taggert. "What was up with her?"

"Ah, who knows?" said Tom, "If she was in on it, I don't know why I would bother sending her away during that final shoot with Emily..."

"Sounds like the writers changed scapegoats in mid-stream..." observed Rick.

"Tch, tch, you're mixing your metaphors, Rick," chided Mr. Murty, "but your point is a valid one. After I was exonerated, I assumed Liz's rape would go unsolved..."

Audrey put her hand over her mouth: "Oh, the poor dear..."

"Exactly," said Mr. Murty: "A highly plausible, but more angst-ridden and complicated scenario. Perhaps the writers wanted to tidy things up a bit, giving the viewing audience some sense of closure..."

Taggert snapped his fingers: "Of course! And since Elizabeth destroyed nearly all of the physical evidence after she was raped, no one could ever go to jail for that crime... unless the rapist confessed on the record..."

"And what are the odds of that happening?" asked Dara.

"Slim to none," Taggert replied.

"So they made Tom guilty of two crimes, one for which there was plenty of evidence to convict him, effectively removing him as a threat to Liz..." concluded Justus.

"Very good. Very good, " said Mr. Murty, "I'd give you all a gold star, but I left them at school."

"So, do you think that's what really happened?" asked Tony.

Mr. Murty shook his head: "I doubt that we'll ever know for sure."

"Maybe it'll come out in the trial..." suggested Dara.

Taggert laughed: "Dream on, Dara! There ain't gonna be a trial."

"Damn..."

"One thing's for sure," added Alan, "Tom Baker's a goner. We're never gonna see him again, after this is through..."

"You can say that again..." said Tom.

"One thing's for sure..."

"I didn't mean that literally, Alan."

Tom stood and produced a camera from his shoulder-bag. "Before I leave, I'd like to get one last picture of you all," he said, waving them over to stand behind the bar. And for one last time, Tom did his photographer's dance, weaving a delicate line of perspective around his subjects, capturing their image from every possible angle. Accompanied by the gentle whir of advancing film, he told them they were beautiful; he told them they were special; he told them they had 'the magic'; and they all believed him.

When he finished, he packed his camera and quietly left the Backburner as his subjects' smiles faded, one by one.

"Poor guy," said Mr. Murty, "I wonder where he'll go now?"

"Probably to the nearest PhotoMat," replied Alan, "to put our heads on the cast of 'Oh Calcutta'..."

-The End-