Joe Carlin no longer stalked the broadcasting stations for a part. The early days of a Wylie show left you time only for Wylie. The need to hunt bread and butter at FKIP was past. He was on an FKIP commercial; he had the station’s attention. Later, he’d call in once a week at FFOM and FWWO. Munson might drop the show after thirteen weeks, and it was wise to make the rounds and keep in touch.
Monday the walls of the Carlin house pressed in upon him and suffocated him. He watched the clock, he kept roaming upstairs and down, he turned the radio on and off. Vic’s two o’clock show was on at FFOM, his four o’clock at FKIP. Sue Davis went on the air at four-thirty. But Wylie would have to walk only from one FKIP studio to another.
How would it go? The house became unbearable. He called: “You won’t forget to listen, Mother?” and was gone. Afterward he was never able to remember whether the day had been clear or drab. Stella Joyce was in Wylie’s inner office reading script.
“Here’s yours, Joe. Vic’s incoherent. He timed the show for a minute opening announcement, but the agency changed to a two-minute Munson plug. Curt Lake had to rewrite script.”
Joe was scared. If Vic tried to jam them through a last minute rehearsal just before they went on....
“No new business,” Stella said. “Curt had to drop lines.”
Joe was relieved. After that he waited with growing impatience. Stella picked up a magazine from Wylie’s desk and turned the pages idly. There was an awful emptiness in the boy’s stomach. Was she watching the time? Presently the actress put the magazine down.
“Joe,” she said impulsively, “I’m glad you’re playing this. If Sonny Baker were in town, Amby would probably have sold him to Munson. Vic would have auditioned him. He might have walked off with it.”
“I followed him in City Boy last season,” Joe said soberly. Against his three months of radio experience, Sonny could show two years. “I thought he was good. Is he?”
Stella nodded. “Quite upstage, but good. Lucille despises him. He’s a show stealer.”