by Jeff Strand
The first location of the day was the park where they’d failed to make Vampire Tree. It was only a couple of blocks away from his home, so Justin could walk there. When he was a hugely successful director, he’d take a limousine, even if he was filming in his own driveway, but for now he’d have to be a lowly pedestrian.
Before he went to bed, Justin had put all of his food and equipment in the red wagon he’d gotten for his sixth birthday. It was not the most glamorous way to transport materials. But he only had his learner’s permit, and Mom and/or Dad were not inclined to get up this early on their days off to drive him two blocks.
Justin was the kind of ambitious person who would choose the most elaborate, complex scene of the entire movie and put it first in the shooting schedule. Fortunately Gabe had overruled him, and the scenes in the park were relatively straightforward.
When he arrived on location, Gabe was already there, setting up lights. (Well, light. They only had one.) Bobby was also there, lying flat on the ground.
“Hi, Gabe,” said Justin.
“Hi, Justin.”
“Hi, Bobby.”
“Hi,” said Bobby in a croak.
“Any special reason you’re lying there?”
“I’m dying.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything.”
“Narrow it down.”
“I think I have the flu.”
“For real?”
“I’ve got a sore throat, and I ache all over. My nose is also running, and I can only tell it’s you because I’ve seen you enough times that I recognize you as a blur.”
“Do you need to go home?” Justin said, asking it the same way his mother might ask a yes-or-no question where there was truly only one correct answer.
Bobby shook his head. “I don’t want to let you down.”
“If you’re really sick, you can leave. It’s okay,” Justin lied.
“No, I’ll power through it. Just let me know if you need me to stand up for anything.”
Okay, so it was possible that the first day of shooting might not be flawless from beginning to end, but as long as Bobby could stand upright and not drop the boom mic on somebody’s head during a take, they’d be fine.
He pulled the wagon over to the park’s one picnic table and began to set out the sandwiches, cookies, and water.
“Can I have a cookie?” Bobby asked.
“No. Cookies are for healthy people.”
They didn’t have an official production designer, but there was no production design necessary for this particular scene since it took place at a regular park and did not require anything to be on fire in the background. Alicia and Christopher were the only two actors in this scene, and they’d been given a 6:30 a.m. call time, so Justin still had half an hour to make sure everything was ready.
“Did you bring everything?” Gabe asked.
“Yep.”
“Camera?”
“Yep.”
“Extra batteries?”
“Yep.”
“Battery charger?”
“We don’t have anything to plug it into, but yep.”
“Slate?”
“Yep.”
“Bribe money?”
“Yep.”
“Clown shoes?”
“Those aren’t for the park scene.”
Gabe glanced at the clipboard he was holding. “You’re right. Prop rifle?”
“Yep.”
“You should say check instead of yep.”
“Do we need to start over?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Green bedsheet?”
“Check.”
“Clothespins?”
“Check.”
“Laptop computer?”
“Check.”
“Browsing history deleted?”
“Check.”
“Waffle iron?”
“Check.”
“Tape measure?”
“Uh-oh.”
“It’s okay,” said Gabe. “I’ve got three.”
“Why do you have three?”
“People like to walk off with tape measures.”
“Oh.”
“Squirrel food?”
“Why do we need that?”
“In case squirrels swarm us. We discussed this, Justin.”
“If squirrels swarm us, we’ll break up one of the sandwiches and throw it.”
“If squirrels swarm us, it’ll be because we have sandwiches lying out. We spent, like, twenty minutes working out this contingency plan.”
“Okay, we’ll just have to go into filming unprepared. If squirrels force us to cancel, you can punch me in the face. But not hard. Maybe not in the face. You can punch me in the stomach. Also not hard. Actually, having to cancel the shoot will be punishment enough. Don’t punch me.”
“Clipboard?”
“You’re holding one.”
“This is mine. You need one for you,” said Gabe.
“I’ll just use the back of my arm.”
“Release forms?”
“Those were your responsibility.”
“I know. I’m getting to my own checklist now.”
“I’m going to do something else.”
“All right.”
“Uuuuuuhhhhhhh,” said Bobby.
Justin walked over to him. “Can you really not hold your tongue in your mouth, or are you faking?”
“I’m not faking.”
“Are you exaggerating?”
“No.”
“Because you fake being sick a lot to get out of school.”
“I really don’t feel good. I’m not going home though. I’m here until the end. I don’t care how much my head aches or how much my nose runs or how much my back stings.”
“Your back stings?”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t sound like a flu symptom.”
“Maybe I have something worse.”
“Did you look at the ground before you lay down?”
Bobby did not immediately respond.
“From where I’m standing, I can see three different anthills. You checked for anthills before you lay down, right?”
“I’m pretty sure I did.”
“I think you should probably stand up now.”
Bobby reached out his arms, and Justin pulled him to his feet. “Are there any ants on my back?” asked Bobby, spinning around.
Justin didn’t have time to do an accurate count, but it looked like there were at least eight million. “Get me something to brush them off with!” he shouted at Gabe. “An ant brusher-offer! Hurry!”
“It’s not on the checklist!”
“Anything! Hurry!”
Gabe grabbed the green sheet out of Justin’s wagon.
“I think they’re multiplying!” Bobby wailed.
“They’re not multiplying,” said Justin, frantically brushing them off with the back of his hand. “There are just a lot of them.”
“I think one’s a queen and it laid eggs!”
“Stop talking! You’re enraging them!”
“One’s in my ear! One’s in my ear! Now two are in my ear! Now I’ve got two in one ear and one in the other! Help me!”
Gabe used the sheet to brush the ants off Bobby. “Stop moving!”
“I have to move! I’m panicking!”
“If you keep moving, they’ll sting you!”
“I don’t want to die! There are still items on my bucket list! I haven’t swam in a moat yet!”
“I think I got most of them,” said Gabe. “Are there any still in your ears?”
Bobby stuck his fingers in his ears. “I’m not sure. You can’t feel stuff crawli
ng on your brain, right? It doesn’t have nerves.”
“They’re not on your brain.”
“There are a few in my mouth!” Bobby chewed for a moment and then swallowed.
“Did we get all of them?” asked Gabe.
Bobby scratched under his arms. “I think so. No, wait. There’s one squirming around in my belly button.” He reached under his shirt and removed the ant. “I hate having an innie.”
“Maybe you should go home,” said Justin.
Bobby shook his head. “No, overcoming adversity just makes me stronger. I’m all right.”
“Your eyes are looking in two different directions.”
“No, I’m fine.” He took off his shirt. “How many times did they sting me?”
Justin and Gabe inspected his chest and back. “It looks like only twice,” said Justin. “That’s pretty good for being covered with eight million ants.”
“I’m going to lie down some more, if that’s okay.”
“Maybe pick a different spot.”
“I’ll lie on the jungle gym.”
“There are probably better options.”
“The picnic bench?”
“Someplace where you don’t get plague germs all over the craft services table.”
“My warm bed at home?”
“That might be for the best,” said Justin.
“No,” said Bobby. “I won’t abandon you. You can’t make me. I’m just going to go lie on the merry-go-round for a while. Please nobody spin it.”
Bobby wandered over to the merry-go-round, and after a couple of unsuccessful attempts, he lay down on it, closed his eyes, and began to softly moan.
“We should call his parents,” said Gabe.
“I’ve seen him look worse,” Justin noted. “Let’s give him a few minutes to recuperate.”
“All right. But if he starts foaming at the mouth, we’re calling 911.”
“Okay.”
“I mean any foam at all. Even if it’s just a little bit trickling out of the sides of his mouth. We see any foam, and he’s done working for the day.”
They heard the putt-putt-putt sound of some sort of motor, and then Christopher came around the corner on a blue moped. Another kid was sitting behind him. Both of them were wearing helmets because Christopher was the kind of upstanding guy who would always be conscious of safety issues when he was operating a motor vehicle, even a tiny one.
He stopped the moped, put out the kickstand with awe-inspiring skill, and got off. He was wearing filthy, torn jeans and a tattered black jacket that perfectly captured the “lost wanderer in a postapocalyptic landscape” look that Justin had asked him to go for.
“Hi, guys,” he said with a smile. His teeth were too white for the character, but they’d fix that. “This is my brother. We call him Spork.”
The other kid, who looked about twelve, got off the moped.
“You mean, like Spock?” Justin asked.
“Nah. Like the thing that’s part spoon and part fork.”
“Why do you call him that?”
“Because he hates it.”
Spork held up a camera to show them. “Could I watch you guys and get some behind-the-scenes footage? You could use it on the special features reel.”
“Yeah, that would be great,” said Justin. “Film anything you want.”
“Thanks.” Spork went over to get some close-up video of Bobby lying on the merry-go-round.
“This is exciting,” said Christopher. “I’m really looking forward to this. Alicia and I got together yesterday to practice our lines, and I think you’ll definitely see the chemistry on the big screen.”
“That’s splendid,” said Justin.
14
A minute later a car arrived, and Alicia, wearing a tattered white wedding dress, got out of the passenger seat. The driver was a redheaded girl who was one year older. Justin recognized her. Her name was Rose or Rosa or Rosalyn or Rosie or something to that effect.
“Hi, everyone!” the girl said as she got out of the car.
“Hi, Daisy!” said Christopher.
Alicia and Daisy (Justin was close, sort of) walked over to join them. Alicia had a tiny silver nose ring shaped like a star, and her hair was now a deep, dark shade of purple like grape Kool-Aid. It was still, however, down to her shoulders. She held up a handful of hair and showed it to Justin. “What do you think of the color?”
“It looks great.”
“Is it purple enough?”
“It’s very purple.”
“My mom literally had a heart attack when she saw it.”
“Do you mean literally meaning literally or literally meaning figuratively?”
“Literally meaning that she clutched at her chest and fell to her knees and acted like she couldn’t catch her breath, but she didn’t actually have a heart attack.”
“Well, that’s a relief. It’s not very Mohawky though.”
“I know. Daisy was going to cut it for me last night, but she got grounded.”
“What’d you do?” Justin asked her.
Daisy shrugged. “There were a lot of things it could’ve been. I’m not one hundred percent sure which one I was grounded for. My mom said, ‘You know what you did,’ and I didn’t think it was a good idea to confess to something that might have been the wrong thing, y’know.”
Justin nodded. “I can relate.”
“I know she was going through my closet, but I’m not sure which box she opened.”
“Anyway,” said Alicia, “she was going to sneak out and cut my hair, and then we decided that we should just do it when we got to the set, so you can make sure it’s in line with your vision.”
“Thanks,” said Justin. “I appreciate that. We’re almost ready to roll camera, so you should go ahead and get started.”
“Let’s do this,” said Alicia, pushing her hair away from her left eye.
“Gaaahhh!” Justin said out loud, even though he tried to just think it.
“Oh yeah,” said Alicia. “The piercing got infected.”
“Doesn’t that hurt?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“It looks like it’s pulsating!”
“It’s not pulsating,” Alicia assured him. “I put rubbing alcohol on it and did everything you’re supposed to do. I’m not sure why it got so bad. Hey, more production value for you, right?”
“Are you sure the pin wasn’t rusty? I’m not an expert on eyebrow piercings, but I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to be that color…or that shape…or move like that. Maybe you should take it out.”
“Nope,” said Alicia. “The truth is that it hurt so bad that I could never do it again, so if I want a pierced eyebrow, this is my only chance. It’s okay. Really.”
“Your friend just fell off the merry-go-round,” said Spork. “Should I help him back on it?”
“Yes, please,” said Justin, who was starting to think that things might not go quite as perfectly as he’d believed earlier in the day.
Daisy took an electric razor out of her car, and then she and Alicia walked over to the slide. Alicia sat on the bottom. Daisy crouched down next to her and turned on the razor.
“Breathe,” Gabe told Justin. “We’re going to get through this.”
“I’m breathing fine. My lungs have never worked better.”
“Seriously, we’re okay. There are bound to be a few hiccups on the first day of shooting.”
“If Alicia hiccups, that thing on her eyebrow is going to burst.”
“That’s gross.”
“Yes, it certainly is.”
Daisy pushed the razor across the side of Alicia’s head. Some purple hair fell to the ground.
“Aaaahhhh!” Alicia cried out. “My hair! My hair!”
“Did you
hurt yourself?” Justin asked.
“No!” Alicia ran her fingers over the bare patch. “My hair! Why did I do that? It took me forever to grow my hair that long! What have I done?” She began to cry.
Everybody just stood there for a moment, unsure what to do.
“Ummmm,” Justin said.
“I can’t believe I let you do that,” Alicia said to Daisy. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
“You said you wanted a Mohawk!”
“Why didn’t you talk me out of it?”
“I thought you really wanted one.”
“I did! But not anymore!” Alicia turned her accusing gaze onto Justin. “Why didn’t you talk me out of it? You’re supposed to be the director!”
“I, uh… I, uh… I, uh… I, uh… I, uh…”
“Look at my hair now! I’m hideous!”
“That’s not true,” said Justin. “If anything is making you hideous, it’s the infected eyebrow piercing, not your hair.”
Justin took a very brief moment to ponder whether that had been the best possible comment to make at that particular time. He decided that it had not been.
Alicia buried her face in her hands and wept. Spork came over to film her.
“I think if you comb your hair to the side you can cover the bare patch,” said Justin, hoping that he was being helpful but suspecting that he wasn’t.
Alicia wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was so attached to my hair.”
“It’s really not a problem,” Justin told her. “There aren’t any hair restrictions on the role.”
“Maybe in this postapocalyptic future, people shave one piece of the side of their heads. It’s just something they do,” said Gabe. “If the movie is popular enough, viewers might shave a piece of their heads to be like Veronica Chaos.”
“I’m not shaving any of my head,” said Christopher. “I’m sorry if it makes me a difficult actor, but that’s not what I signed on for. You should have said something during the audition. I’ll go purple, but I’m not shaving it.”
“Nobody is asking you to shave your head,” said Justin.
“But the purple?”
