by Chris Colfer
Cash shrugged. “Nope, I’m here totally of my own volition,” he said. “Joining a bunch of strangers on a road trip isn’t something I make a hobby out of, but I figured, why the fuck not? You only live once. Unless you’re a Buddhist, then you come back a couple times, apparently—just something I read on the plane. Reincarnation, they call it. Are these the friends you wrote about?”
Joey and Sam sheepishly stepped forward to greet him.
“Hello, sir,” Sam said, and bowed like he was approaching royalty. “My name is Sam. Can I just say, it is an honor and a privilege to be in your presence—an honor and a privilege.”
“I’m Joey—Joey Davis,” he said, unsure of what to do with his hands. “Big fan, man. Big fan!”
“That’ll change once you get to know me,” Cash said with a wink. “Is this all of us? Aventura de cuatro amigos?”
“We’re still waiting for our friend Mo,” Topher said. “She’s running a few minutes late, but she always does. Not that she’s a bad person or anything—that’s not what I meant to imply! She’s going to lose her goddamn mind when she sees you.”
“Sorry I was running a little late myself,” Cash apologized. “I was in Santa Clara for the Wiz Kids convention and booked the first flight I could get to Chicago.”
“I’m glad you got a ticket,” Topher said. “What airline?”
“Oh, I don’t do airlines anymore,” Cash said. “I fly private. It’s pricey but beats having to take my shoes off in public, you know what I mean?”
The thought made Sam squeal excitedly, as if he’d said he had flown a dragon.
“Is this our chariot?” Cash asked, and nodded to the car.
He went to the station wagon and walked around it in a circle, like he was inspecting a car for sale.
“Yeah, sorry,” Topher said with a nervous laugh. “I’m sure it’s not what you’re used to—”
“Is that real wood on the sides?” Cash said. “Huh, I’ve seen these kinds of cars in John Hughes movies, but I didn’t think they still existed. This is gonna be an adventure.”
“You can say that again,” Joey peeped.
They heard wheels rolling down the sidewalk nearby. Mo appeared a moment later, pulling her large pink suitcase behind her and carrying a large pink cardboard box.
“Hey!” Topher said. “Boy, do we have something cool to tell—”
“I’m sorry I’m late, but you guys aren’t going to believe what happened to me this morning,” Mo said. “I was halfway here when I realized I hadn’t packed a swimsuit, so I had to turn around and go home. I walked into my bedroom and saw Peaches had taken a huge dump in the middle of my bed, so I had to clean it up and put my comforter in the washer. Then, on my way back, I realized I was starving and figured since I was late anyway I would stop and get doughnuts at the corner store for us to snack on… Why are you all looking at me like I have mouth herpes?”
Her friends were shocked she hadn’t noticed Cash yet. They nodded toward him and when Mo’s eyes finally landed on the actor it only took a second for it to sink in. She dropped the box of doughnuts and let out a scream so loud dogs could hear it in Indiana.
“You must be Mo,” Cash said.
Chapter Seven
TRUTH-SHAMING
As Topher drove through town toward Interstate 55, he spent more time looking at Cash in the rearview mirror than at the road ahead. Sam sat beside him in the front while Joey and Mo shared the backseat, and none of them could take their eyes off their surprise guest, either. They expected the sound of their alarm clocks to wake them from a dream at any moment. However, the strange alternative reality was never interrupted. This was real life!
“So… Downers Grove, huh?” Cash said as the community passed by his window. “What exactly goes on in Downers Grove?”
The actor was stretched out across the very back of the station wagon, using the others’ luggage as oversized pillows. Everyone knew it was against the law for him to be without a seat belt, but none of them were about to reprimand their favorite television star.
“Absolutely nothing,” Joey said.
“Gotcha. It’s kind of a bummer name for a town. Is it named after someone in particular or is there an Uppers Cove nearby?”
“It was named after Pierce Downer,” Sam said. “He was an evangelist who founded the town in 1832. At least that’s what a plaque at the post office says.”
“Solid fact, Sam,” Cash said. “I can’t tell if it looks more like the location of a Hallmark movie or a slasher film.”
“Why are you with us?” Mo blurted out. She had been holding it in since they got in the car and couldn’t contain it anymore. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I’m glad you’re here, but what possessed you to join four strangers on a road trip?”
“Well, I’ve never been on a real road trip before and thought it’d be fun,” Cash said. “Besides, it’s a nice way to get to know some of my biggest fans a little better, say thank you, give back—all that shit. By the way, don’t post anything on the Internet about me being with you or we’ll get trailed by all the Wizzers in the Midwest.”
“Copy that,” Topher said. “Thanks again for joining us. We’re going to remember this forever. It’s the coolest thing that’s ever happened to—”
“Do you guys mind if I smoke in here?” Cash asked.
The request took Topher off guard. “Um… actually, this is my mom’s car, so—”
Sam elbowed Topher in the ribs and shot him a look that said, Shut your mouth or I’ll slit your throat with my pinkie nail.
“Yeah, it’s totally fine,” Sam said.
Cash searched his pockets and found a pack of cigarettes in his jacket and a lighter in his jeans. He also found condoms, a joint, and matches from a strip club, but tucked those away before the others saw them.
“Mind opening your window for me, Mo?” he asked. “I don’t want to fumigate you guys with secondhand smoke.”
Mo rolled it down but looked slightly disturbed about it.
“Something wrong?” Cash asked her.
“No, I just didn’t know you were a smoker,” she said as if it were a derogatory term. “It’s really bad for you, you know.”
“WHAT?” Cash laughed as he lit his first cigarette. “Since when? Who told you that?”
“You did,” Mo said. “In a D.A.R.E. video we watched in the fifth grade, you said smoking kills and then taught us the anti-addiction dance with a man dressed in a lion costume.”
Cash took a long drag of his cigarette and nodded as the memory returned to him.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Ironically, that lion was wasted the whole shoot. He kept a flask in his snout.”
Mo’s mouth dropped open like a child learning the truth about Santa Claus.
“So what’s it like being famous?” Joey asked. “I’m sure you get asked that question all the time, but I’d love to know.”
“It fucking sucks,” Cash moaned.
“Really?” Joey asked. It was not the answer he was expecting. “But isn’t it wonderful to have such a big following and to mean so much to so many people?”
“That’s not fame, that’s respect,” Cash said. “Fame is the complete opposite of respect. Fame is getting interrupted every time you have a meal—it’s getting asked favors by complete strangers whenever you step outside—it’s getting asked advice on how to break into the industry from the guy taking a dump in the stall next to you—it’s getting criticized by the whole world and never getting to defend yourself!”
Cash closed his eyes, slowly exhaled a long gust of smoke, and counted to ten to calm himself down. The others looked at the actor like he had momentarily transformed into a werewolf.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to go all Black Swan so soon after meeting you. I just hate that our society values it so much. It’s like, plant a fucking tree, you know?”
Joey made a mental note not to bring up the subject again.
“So… what’s i
t like being respected?”
“Oh, it makes fame worth it,” Cash said cheerfully. “It’s not like either comes with a handbook or anything. I think not being able to separate the two is why so many celebrities struggle with it. But I’m not a fucking psychologist.”
The others nodded politely, but their faces were noticeably longer than before. Just like the actor’s appearance, they were slowly learning Cash’s personality was nothing like Dr. Bumfuzzle’s.
“Tell us what it’s like to work on Wiz Kids,” Topher said. “Is it as much fun as it looks?”
Cash hesitated. “Um… sure,” he said, and quietly faced the window.
“Anything else?” Topher asked teasingly. “Come on, we’ve never met an actor from TV before. We’re dying to know.”
The actor paused, forming the most politically correct and positive answer possible so he wouldn’t upset them.
“Well, a lot of actors love working on television, but every show is different. Our show is more difficult to shoot because of all the special effects and stunts. We’re in production fourteen hours a day, six days a week, nine months a year—so it’s a lot more work than people realize. Sometimes I go days without seeing the sun.”
Mo laughed like he was telling a joke, but there was no punch line.
“Wait, you mean you don’t like it?” she asked.
“That’s not what I said. I’m just suggesting it’s difficult to keep up your energy and enthusiasm when you’ve been on a schedule like that for so many years—no matter how fun it can be. That’s understandable, right?”
Clearly it wasn’t, because Mo looked like someone had taken her childhood, ripped it in half, and thrown it out the window.
“But… but… but you make so much money and make so many people happy in the process. Doesn’t inspiring people make it all worth it—don’t we make it all worth it?”
Cash let out a long sigh. Mo was making him uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as she was making her friends.
“Hey, Mo?” Topher interjected. “Why don’t we change the subject and stop berating the man who just flew two thousand miles to be with us.”
“No, it’s all right,” Cash said. “Look, the five of us are going to be together for a while. I’d like this experience to be as authentic as possible, but part of that is getting to be as authentic as possible. I’m glad you like the show and I’m happy to answer as many questions as you want, as long as you stop truth-shaming me.”
“Truth-shaming?” Joey asked. “What’s that?”
“It’s like fat-shaming but for honest people,” Cash explained. “It’s the reason famous people can never be totally truthful when they speak publicly. Think about it—everyone usually has the answer they want to hear before they ask the question, especially from celebrities. However, if we answer honestly and it differs from what people want to hear, unintentionally bursting a bubble or two, we get shamed for it. We’re called ungrateful, selfish, disgraceful—everything but truthful. Alternatively, if we give the answer everyone wants to hear, but it doesn’t seem genuine enough, we’ll get shamed for that, too. It’s a real mind fuck.”
“So you have to constantly lie to make people happy?” Joey asked.
“Not constantly—that would be exhausting,” Cash said. “I’ll give you an example. One of you guys pull up my Rolling Stone interview from last February. Read the answers I gave the writer and I’ll tell you if they’re honest or not.”
They weren’t sure they wanted to play this game, but Sam got on his phone and found the article online anyway.
“Okay, first question: How does it feel to be the face of a global phenomenon?” he read. “Your answer: Oh gosh, I’m not sure how to answer that. You say that like I’m single-handedly responsible for the show’s success, when it really takes a village to make the show work. Our crew deserves as much credit as I do.”
“See, that was completely honest,” Cash said. “There wasn’t a single white lie in it. Next?”
“What’s it like to be beloved by so many Wizzers around the world?” Sam read. “Your answer: I don’t know how to describe it. Entertaining people and giving them a break from reality is why we become actors, isn’t it? I’d say it’s validating, but it’s much more than that—it gives me purpose and I don’t take it for granted.”
“Also 100 percent true,” Cash said. “Next?”
“What’s next for your career?” Sam read. “Your answer: I’m busy finishing the ninth season of Wiz Kids but have a few film projects lined up for our hiatus and maybe even a play in the West End.”
“Bold-faced lies,” Cash said. “I didn’t have a single project lined up for this hiatus. You gotta say that shit so no one labels you as a future has-been—that’ll kill a career. Even if it’s obvious you’ll never do anything but the show you’re on, you can’t admit it.”
“But you’ve done more than Wiz Kids,” Joey said. “You did that independent movie Lucky, about the blind and deaf soldier who lost his leg in World War II.”
Cash was shocked. “You guys saw that?”
“Opening night,” Topher said. “We had to drive to a bad neighborhood in Michigan to see it, but we were there.”
The actor was touched and the corner of his mouth curved into a grin, but it only lasted a second.
“No one else saw it,” he said somberly. “The critics were vicious, but I think they were still mad Wiz Kids had become a hit and were taking their aggression out on me. Funny how movie reviews can be scathing yet never mention a thing about the plot or characters. Long story longer, no one’s going to cast me in another movie again. Back to you, Sam—this is fun!”
Cash flicked his cigarette out the window and then lay across the luggage in the back with his hands behind his head.
“Damien Zimmer has said the Wiz Kids cast and creative team is like a family. Would you agree?” Sam read. “Your answer: Definitely. That’s all you said.”
Cash groaned. “Damien Zimmer has despised me from day one. Every time I get any recognition he writes me into a coma or puts me through something horrendous as punishment. After I was on the cover of TV Guide, he put a dangerous stunt into a script and it broke my ankle. After I won a People’s Choice Award, he put my character in a coma for twelve episodes. The list goes on. Next?”
“Your costar Tobey Ramous just booked the lead role of a huge studio franchise. Are you jealous of his success?” Sam read. “Your answer: Not at all. Having a friend in a huge movie just means I get to attend a huge premiere to support him.”
“Of course I was jealous,” Cash confessed. “But Tobey really needed that gig for his self-esteem. We were really close friends until Us Weekly did a poll asking which of us was hotter. For whatever reason, I won and Tobey didn’t take it well. He started lifting weights and doing steroids to cope and our friendship shriveled up with his balls. Next?”
“Are the rumors that you and Amy Evans are more than friends true?” Sam read. “Your answer: No. That’s a rumor the Wizzers who like our characters’ relationship started. I’m glad they’re so invested in the show, though.”
Mo was anxious to hear his real answer and sat up in her seat like a puppy waiting for a treat.
“The only relationship Amy Evans is in is with herself,” Cash said. “Meanwhile, every girlfriend I’ve ever had has been harassed and chased away by the Wizzers who refuse to accept the show isn’t a documentary. Right before she dumped me, my last girlfriend got a box of hair in the mail. It came with a note that said, We know Amy and Cash are in love. Get out of their way or this will be all that’s left of you! Sincerely, the Bumtrees. The police traced it back to a group of fourteen-year-olds in Moose Jaw, Canada.”
Mo cleared her throat. “For the record, that’s exactly why the shippers changed their name to the Peachfuzzlers,” she informed the car. “The Bumtrees were giving the fandom a bad name… or so I heard.”
Cash gave her a suspicious look over his sunglasses.
&nbs
p; “Right…,” he said. “Let me guess, you’re one of them?”
Mo shook her head but her blushing cheeks told a different story.
“Oh come on, Mo,” Joey said. “Your cat’s name is Peaches and Dr. Bumfuzzle and Dr. Peachtree’s relationship is all you ever write about?”
“You write about it?” Cash asked. “As in fanfiction?”
“Fine, I’m a Peachfuzzler—there, I said it,” Mo confessed. “But in my defense, the events of today are much stranger than any fanfiction I’ve ever written or read.”
“Nothing is stranger than fanfiction,” Cash said, like a sailor recalling his encounter with a horrible sea creature. “Well, that’s enough of that. Hope I didn’t ruin Wiz Kids for you, but that’s what growing up is all about—learning nothing is sacred in this world.”
Topher, Sam, Joey, and Mo each looked a little more devastated than the next. Perhaps driving across the country with their favorite actor wouldn’t be as thrilling as they thought? They were only twenty minutes into their trip and Topher already regretted inviting him.
“I can’t tell you how therapeutic it is to speak so openly for a change,” Cash said with a big grin. “Being deceitful is so draining, and I’m only dishonest when I have to be. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be one of those people whose whole life is a lie and who have to keep the truth from their friends and family.”
Although they didn’t notice each other, Sam and Joey both went quiet and looked out their windows. They knew exactly what it was like and didn’t want anyone to catch the truth in their eyes.
“Lord, I’m as exhausted as a religious picketer in Vegas.” Cash yawned. “I’m going to take a nap back here. Would you guys wake me when we stop for lunch? I’d set my alarm, but I lost my phone last week.”
“Sure,” Topher said.
Cash got comfortable but then quickly sat back up, as if remembering an important piece of information to share.
