Getting To Know Her—Will Hutchins & Norma Moore

Will Hutchins devilishly let out a wild hoot, keeled his motor scooter to the right and zoomed ahead towards the park.

“Hey!” he felt a tug around his waist . . . “I’m back here, remember?” laughed the girl hugging on behind him.

He turned and caught a quick glimpse of her in a striped cotton shirt, vainly hanging on to her large straw hat. Two tufts of near golden hair flapped provocatively against the brim. Norma has pretty hair, he thought, as a ray of sunlight caught it, making it sparkle.

“Eyes on the road, Sugarfoot,” she teased and laughed again, easily and warmly.

Will had known her ever since they both first came to Hollywood—Norma Moore from North Carolina and Will Hutchins from the University of California. They shared such a lot—mostly dreams, then, and a love of the open air.

Just that morning he had kidded her on the phone, “How about going out with me and finding a tree today? After all, it’s almost spring.”

“How do you like that tree, the one over there?” he shouted to her as they rounded a corner.

“What’d you say?” She leaned over to hear him over the burr of the machine.

“That tree—good enough?” he laughed.

“Oh, perfect,” she shouted back, finally understanding.

He slowed the scooter to a whining halt and steadied it while Norma hopped off. Together they tugged the machine off the road and set it beside the tree. Will took off his jacket and tossed it over the seat. Then he stretched himself lazily out flat on the ground. “Come on down, the weather’s fine,” he laughed. She pretended to collapse down beside him, “Whee! That was a ride.”

For a moment they were still. Then, noticing she had suddenly become pensive, he said, “Penny for your thoughts.”

She smiled, asking softly, “Ever look for a four-leaf clover, Will?”

“Mmm . . . sometimes,” he yawned, lazily, thinking Norma looks cute when she puckers her forehead.

“I was thinking, Will, maybe all of acting is like looking for a four-leaf clover. I mean, maybe I should be thinking about a home and a family like other girls. Oh—I dunno. Maybe I’m just feeling like a little girl today.”

He felt a sudden urge to to slip his arm protectively around her shoulder. “I never thought you cared about those things . . .”

“There are times when I do . . . others when I dream of being famous. And times like now when I feel lost, not really knowing which is best,” she sighed.

He jerked his head in surprise. “Hey, you look cute like that. Real pretty.”

“Oh—Will.”

“No, I mean it.”

“Thank you,” she whispered shyly.

He gave her a peck on the cheek. “And you smell good, too—as good as a fresh breath of this spring air. Why have I never noticed it before?” he concluded flamboyantly.

She smiled softly at him.

“You hungry?” she asked at length.

“Ravenous.”

“I kinda thought you might be.” She started digging into her pockets. “So I brought along a couple of candy bars… the ones you like—with nuts.”

“Thanks. Hey, what are you doing now?”

“Oooo . . . digging up the grass and replanting it, ’cause some of the blades are crooked.”

“You’re so funny. What were you like as a kid?”

“Oh, I was a very serious child,” she announced, putting on a grave expression. I was determined to become a great actress. No time for such childish pastimes then.” She thought for a moment. “Yet can you believe that I never did get to see a movie or a play until I was ten!”

Then Will said, “I guess I was just the opposite. What you might call a juvenile delinquent. Oh—I never got into trouble with the police, but I was pretty wild. Did crazy things like dropping stones on cars and spending afternoons racing up and down the halls of big hotels with other guys, just for the fun of it. But when the kids in junior high elected me class president,” he finished, majestically, “I began to have responsibilities . . . so I had to live up to them.”

“You like to lead, don’t you, Will? And think of all the kids who look up to you now that you’re Sugarfoot. My hero, too,” she teased. “Say,” she suddenly looked around. “I thought you were going to bring your guitar?”

“I don’t seem to have time to practice any more. I’m kinda rusty, so I thought . . . maybe another time,” he added hastily.

“And you’ll teach me?”

“If you’re good,” he joked.

“Oh—I’m always very good,” she teased.

Will took a long look at Norma. She has lovely eyes . . . she’s so natural . . . he thought warmly.

“Norma was real good fun on the slide.”

He was going to tell her, but instead chuckled, “You’ve a tiny leaf stuck right on the top of your head.” He gently plucked it out. She shook her head. “No . . . just the one,” he assured her.

Then suddenly they heard sounds of shrieking and laughter.

“Hey—what’s up?” Will said, startled.

“The Indians are upon us!” laughed Norma. “To my rescue, Sugarfoot!”

Then from behind a tree appeared two small feet; then a tiny head which darted away again almost as soon as it appeared.

“Hands up!” screamed a voice.

Norma and Will looked at each other, giggled, sat up and put their arms in the air. A boy, about nine years old, walked slowly up to them, as though measuring his steps.

“She playfully jerked the seesaw and I felt like a king toppling from a throne.”

He looked at Will. Then at Norma. Then back at Will. “I know you,” he exclaimed. “You’re a cowboy.”

“Sugarfoot’s the name,” prompted Will.

“Reeaally?” His eyes opened wide. “Say, are you really Sugarfoot?”

“That’s me. In person.”

The boy squealed, turned, and shouted at the trees. “Hey, you kids. Guess what I’ve found?”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere came one, two, three, then all at once a whole crowd of children.

“It’s Sugarfoot. Really Sugarfoot,” screamed the little boy.

“You look different on TV,” decided one girl.

“Can you show us how to shoot—bang! Bang!”

Then the first boy looked at Norma and asked, “You in Sugarfoot, too?”

“We wondered what the future held . . . where we’d be twenty years from now.”

“I was in one episode, but not usually,” she told him.

“And that your scooter?” he asked them, pointing to the machine.

“That’s right,” Will said.

“Can I have a ride?” He had a mischievous look in his eye.

Will lifted himself from the ground and looked questioningly at Norma. She nodded her approval. “Okay, fella, hop up,” he said.

The boy squealed with delight.

“What about you?” called Will, turning to Norma.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll run along by the side,” she said. Will grinned. That’s nice of her, he thought.

“She was so delightfully natural, giggling as the water hit her nose.”

“. . . Just as far as the playground. It’s only the other side of the trees,” the boy was telling Will.

They were off down the road, the other children following, Pied Piper fashion. Two minutes later they had reached the playground.

The boy hopped off. “Thank you, Sugarfoot, sir,” he said.

“And thank you,” Will replied.

He looked around for Norma and noticed her talking to two small girls in one corner of the playground. He walked over.

“Will, I want you to meet Linda and Suzie.”

“Hello,” he said, kindly.

“What about us all going on the slide,” Norma suggested. And silently Will thanked her a thousand times. He hadn’t had a clue what to say to the girls.

They chased each other down the slide . . . and laughed as they ran in and out through the seesaws while each child vied for ine chance to be nearest to Norma or Will.

“Say—this is great,” screamed Norma.

“We should do it more often,” shouted back Will. “Didn’t know you were so much fun.”

Norma laughed happily.

Then, a short while later, she leaned against the side-of the slide, breathing heavily. “Will—I’m exhausted. I’m not as young as I used to be,” she joked.

He came over to where she was standing. She looks just like a spaniel who’s run all the way home, he thought. She’s pretty and fun. He put an arm around her waist. “Shall we call it a day?” he said softly.

As they started back to the scooter, a little boy came running up. “Is she your pal?” he asked.

“A pal?” Will winked at Norma. “Maybe this morning, but not any more . . .”

THE END

SEE WILL AS “SUGARFOOT,” OVER ABC-TV, ALTERNATE TUESDAYS, AT 7:30 P.M. EST. NORMA’S IN THE “TALES OF TEXAS JOHN SLAUGHTER” EPISODES OF “WALT DISNEY PRESENTS,” FRIDAYS AT 8 P.M. EST, OVER ABC-TV.

 

It is a quote. PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE APRIL 1959