by Jeff Strand
“What about her?”
“She was in a horrible accident fifteen years ago. So awful that she’s refused to leave the house since then. After in-home therapy three times a week for all this time, she’d finally worked up the courage to get behind the wheel of a car again.”
“Did Uncle Clyde tell you to say that?”
Bobby grinned. “Yeah. I wish I had his wit.”
“How’s the lady really?”
“She’s just mad. No mental trauma.”
“Have you talked to Gabe?”
“Yeah.”
“How is he?”
“I think he’s getting tired of sitting in the waiting room.”
“He’s here?”
“Of course. He wouldn’t refuse to visit you in the hospital. You fought over a movie, not a girl.”
“Bring him in.”
“I feel like you’re moving past the subject of me pretty quickly. I know that getting beat up by a girl doesn’t have the glamour of getting hit by a car, but still. Maybe you could ask me a question or two about how things are going first.”
“Did Uncle Clyde tell you to say that?”
“No, it’s just basic human decency. Duh.”
“How are things going with you, Bobby?”
“Eh.”
“Good to know.”
“I’ll go get Gabe.”
For a split second—not even that long—Justin thought that Gabe was so distraught over what happened that he’d given himself a purple Mohawk, but no, it was Alicia. Justin wondered if the doctor was fibbing about not having given him pain medication.
“How’s your arm?” she asked.
“It felt better when it wasn’t broken. But it’s my left arm, and I’m right-handed, so that’s convenient. I’ve broken this arm before. No big deal.”
“How’s your head?”
“Not too bad. How’s yours?”
Alicia had a large piece of gauze taped over her infected eyebrow. “A nurse patched it up. I’ve decided that not every face was meant to have jewelry in it. I’m going to let it heal, and then when I turn eighteen, I’m going to get a tattoo there.”
“A solid plan.”
“I guess you’re not going to finish the movie, huh?”
“Why would you say that?”
“You’ve got an ouchie.”
“One broken arm isn’t going to stop me,” said Justin. “Two broken arms? Maybe. One arm broken in six places? Probably. But one fracture in one arm? Not a chance.”
“They said you also might have a concussion.”
“Concussion, schmuncussion. I was acting like somebody whose head had smacked into the cement long before it actually happened. Tomorrow morning the movie is back on. Learn your lines.”
“Whatever you say,” said Alicia. She gave him a smile that made his heart soar and his arm stop hurting for a couple of seconds. Then she gave him a gentle kiss on his cast and left the room.
Christopher walked into the room before Justin could fully process what had just happened. “How’re you feeling?”
“Why didn’t you all come into the room together?” Justin asked.
“Only one minor is allowed in the room at a time. At least as of this afternoon. There was a toilet-papering incident on another floor. A man nearly lost his life.”
“Got it. I’m feeling fine.”
“Great. Even if this movie crashes and burns, I want you to know that it was a fantastic experience for me because I got to spend a lot of time with Alicia. You don’t usually get to see the really hostile side of somebody before you’re dating them, so this was refreshing. It should have scared me away, but weirdly enough, it made me like her even more. Isn’t that funny?”
“I’m feeling kind of tired,” said Justin. “I guess I should get some sleep. Could you send in Gabe?”
“Uncle Clyde is right outside.”
“No, no, that’s all right. I don’t want to give him any germs from my broken arm.”
Christopher left. Daisy walked into the room.
“I don’t know you very well,” she said, “so I have nothing to say, but it would be rude not to pay my respects.”
“That’s cool,” said Justin. “Thanks.”
“Talk to you later.”
“Okay.”
Daisy left. If Uncle Clyde stepped into the room, Justin was going to seriously consider flinging a piece of expensive hospital equipment at his head, but the next visitor was Gabe.
“Hi,” said Gabe.
“Hi,” said Justin.
“Hi,” said Gabe again. “How’d the shoot go after I left?”
“Pretty decent. Got a lot of nice stuff with Alicia and Christopher. The zombies are going to be really cool. The car thing was kind of a bummer, but overall it was a productive day.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I was on my way to ask you to come back to the movie.”
“I know. I saw the video. It’s very unsettling.”
“I haven’t seen it yet.”
“You’ll be happier if you skip it. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s almost a relief when the car hits you.”
“I was trying to be entertaining.”
“Sometime we’ll brainstorm other ways to accomplish that.”
“I was getting ready to shoot the first zombie scene, and I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to make this movie without you. If I was going to do that, I could’ve made it over the summer on a realistic schedule. I don’t want realism. I want you to make this movie with me. Will you accept my apology?”
“Will it come with a change in behavior?”
“It might.”
“The reasons I quit are still valid,” said Gabe. “You’ve got a ‘descending into madness’ vibe going on, and I don’t think it’s working for you. If I come back to the project, it has to stop. It’s fine to be passionate, just not scary passionate, okay?”
“That’s acceptable.”
“You said you wanted to make the greatest zombie movie ever. I tried to rein you in. But you got reined in too far because suddenly we weren’t trying to make something that was great. We were trying to make something that was finished. That isn’t what we set out to do. We need—”
“Hold on,” said Justin. “How inspirational is this going to be?”
Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know. Average, I guess.”
“We need Spork in here getting it on video.”
“Only one minor is allowed in the room at a time.”
“Sure, if you follow the rules. But we’re independent filmmakers, and we don’t follow the rules. What’s the hospital going to do, un-set my broken bone? We represent the spirit of guerrilla filmmaking, and we need to prove it to the world.”
“Honestly I’m totally fine just saying the inspirational stuff to you.”
“Well, I look like a fool in the behind-the-scenes footage, and it would be nice to get a chance to redeem myself.”
“I’ll go get him.”
Gabe left the room and returned a moment later with Spork.
“I’m going to say that thing about independent filmmakers again,” said Justin. He looked directly into the camera. “Sure, if you follow the rules. But we’re—”
“Why would we have video of you talking about wanting to get video?” Gabe asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t need to make sense.”
“We’re backsliding already.”
“No, we’re not. We’ll put ‘Reenactment’ up on the screen. Just let me do this.”
“Okay. Proceed.”
“Sure, if you follow the rules. But we’re independent filmmakers, and. We. Don’t. Follow. The. Rules. Remember that, future generations who are watching this. We represent the spirit of
guerrilla filmmaking. We are filmmaking.”
Justin motioned for Spork to point the camera at Gabe.
“You said you wanted to make the greatest zombie movie ever. I tried to fence you in.”
“Rein,” Justin corrected.
“You’re right. I tried to rein you in. But you got reined in too far because suddenly we weren’t trying to make something that was great.”
“A little slower…and more emotion. Make the viewer feel the power of your words.”
“You’re right. I tried—”
“Look at me, not the camera.”
“You’re right. I tried—”
“Still rushing a bit. Just close your eyes and take a deep breath. Relax your whole body. Raise your shoulders, tilt your head back, and just breathe in, breathe out. Very good.”
“My battery is almost dead,” said Spork.
“Thanks for the warning,” said Justin. “Action!”
“But you got reined in too far because suddenly we weren’t trying to make something that was great. We were trying to make something that was finished. That isn’t what we set out to do. We need to return to the original inspiration, to your original inspiration, and we need to make the greatest zombie movie ever!”
“Yes!” Justin wanted to jump out of his bed and give Gabe a great big hug, but if he was only going to do smart things from now on, a good start would be to not jostle his broken bone.
“They all say we can’t do it,” said Gabe. “And yeah, our first day kind of proves them right. But you know what? Now we’re going to prove them wrong!”
“Who says we can’t do it?” Justin asked.
“Oh, it’s all over social media. You might want to stay offline for a while.”
“You know what? Let them laugh. It’ll make us stronger.”
“I still want to make this movie, but I can’t have you acting all Captain Ahab from Moby-Dick the whole time. Ahab was not a well-adjusted man. This movie can’t be your white whale.”
“I understand.”
“And yet at the same time, I need you to be more like Ahab because what you were doing right before I quit is like if he said, ‘I must kill the white whale! I must kill the white whale! Actually no, I’ll just kill a halibut instead.’”
“I’m not completely sure where you stand on this issue,” said Justin. “A few days ago, you were in the cafeteria, sarcastically pretending to try to jump up and grab the sun.”
“I want you to be like Ahab if his goal wasn’t something ridiculous like to catch that one specific white whale out of all the whales in the ocean, but he still wanted to catch something awesome. Like maybe a great white shark. He chose a shark because he had access to the appropriate resources to catch one, and…I think I’m confusing myself on where I stand on the issue. Let’s just make the greatest zombie movie ever, okay?”
“Okay.”
22
When Justin woke up, he was at home in his own bed.
He wondered if he was dreaming again, and then he noticed the polka-dotted lobsters parachuting from the ceiling. So yep, he was.
He woke up in the hospital bed.
A man was seated next to him.
Justin was fortunate enough to have lived the kind of sheltered existence where he didn’t spend a lot of time around mob enforcers. However, if he were forced to guess this gentleman’s career (possibly at gunpoint by a mobster), mob enforcer would have been one of his top three guesses. The other two guesses were much more dangerous, so he hoped the man was indeed from the mob.
“Hello, Justin,” said the man. He looked like he was about fifty, and there was a deep scar under his right eye.
“Uh, hi?”
“I’m a quote unquote friend of your grandmother’s.”
Justin quickly sat up. “I see.”
“Apparently she has a financial investment in a motion picture that you are currently in the process of making.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And apparently she’s beginning to worry about the security of her investment. How secure is her investment, Justin?”
“It’s secure. It’s very secure.”
The man looked at Justin as if gazing into his soul. “I hope you’re telling me the truth. I’d hate to have you meet up with another quote unquote accident.”
“Another one?”
“Do you really think that your getting hit by a car was a coincidence?”
Justin gaped at him. “You mean it wasn’t a…” He stopped gaping. “Yes, it was. Nobody could have predicted that I’d be running down the sidewalk like that.”
“Good work, Justin. You’ve found the hole in my story. I am not responsible for your broken arm. But that does not mean your arm is safe from me, if you know what I mean.”
“She’ll get her twelve percent return on her investment. I promise.”
“Then you have nothing to fear from me.”
“Thank you.”
The man started to rise from his seat but then sat back down and sighed. “I can’t believe she’s got me going after teenagers. That’s not where I wanted to be at this point in my career. I thought I’d be intimidating politicians or wealthy businessmen, not protecting some kid’s grandmother’s five thousand bucks. This is ridiculous. How much do you think she’s paying me? Go on, guess.”
“I have no idea.”
“Guess.”
“Three thousand dollars?”
“She’s paying me nothing. She’s paying me in experience like I’m some kind of intern. Can you believe that?”
“Well, you don’t have to do it, do you?”
“If only that were true. Your grandma is vicious, Justin. I hate to be the one to break that news to you, but she is. I don’t know if she was born that way or if the circumstances of her life made her that way, but the woman is a monster.”
“Jeez,” said Justin.
“I’m not saying that she’s the devil. And I’m not playing that trick where I say that she’s not the devil and you relax, and then I say that she’s worse than the devil. She’s not as bad as the devil. But she’s awful and frightening, and I very strongly recommend that you finish this movie and earn back her money.”
“I will.”
“Good. You don’t want to see me here again.”
“I definitely don’t.”
“Or someplace else. I don’t only show up in hospital rooms after dark. There’s no place that you’re safe from me. I’m not trying to traumatize you. Just being honest.”
“I appreciate your honesty.”
The man stood up. “Anyway, I’m gonna get out of here and try to get some sleep. Remember what I said. I think we had a pleasant conversation, even if I did most of the talking, but next time it’ll be less of a conversation and more along the lines of you screaming a lot. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Do you remember if I take a left or a right at the end of this hallway? I’m not great with directions.”
“I’m not sure. I woke up here.”
“Okay. It was inappropriate of me to ask in the first place. I’ll figure it out. See ya later.”
“Unless I finish the movie and make back Grandma’s investment, right?”
“Right, right. I was just being polite. ‘See ya later’ wasn’t meant to imply that I was going to renege on our agreement. Get some sleep, kid.”
Justin slept poorly.
• • •
He was released in the morning. As the nurse wheeled him down the hallway, Justin decided not to tell his parents about his encounter in the middle of the night. Maybe it was a dream, or maybe it was indeed a trainee mobster there to deliver a stern warning. Either way, it was best not to worry them.
Justin was going to miss the hospital gown. It was the most comfortable thing he’d eve
r worn. When he was a massively successful director and owned his own island, hospital gowns would be the mandatory dress code.
As he sat in the backseat of the car, he tried to figure out the best way to ask them to drop him off at Uncle Clyde’s house so we could get back to work. There probably wasn’t a perfect way to ask this. Still, if he was clever, he could phrase it in such a way that they didn’t immediately scream, “Are you out of your mind?”
“Before you ask, you’re not going anywhere today,” said Mom, glancing back at him.
“You already knew that, right?” asked Dad, glancing up at Justin’s reflection in the rearview mirror since he was the one driving. “I mean, it’s only common sense.”
“I knew that you might lean in that direction,” said Justin. “But it’s truly not necessary. My arm actually feels better than it did before I broke it. Maybe it had too much marrow before.”
“You need to rest for at least a day.”
“Nah, I’m the director. My job is to order people around. As long as I don’t break my jaw, I’m fine.”
“This isn’t open for discussion,” said Dad.
“I completely understand. You want to keep me safe, and it’s not only for emotional reasons. There are also legal factors involved. But really, people break their arms every day. Literally every single day, arms go crunch, crunch, crunch. It’s not a big deal. I’m not going to do anything silly like lift weights or dangle from a tree branch or exercise.”
“You’re working under the impression that you’re going to be able to change our minds,” said Mom. “You’re not.”
They really didn’t sound like they were going to budge on this issue. What other tactics could he use? Temper tantrum? It had been a few years since he’d gone that route, but…
“And if you try to sneak out, you’ll be grounded basically forever,” said Dad.
“If I tried to sneak out, it would mean that I was climbing out a second-story window, which is exactly the kind of thing I’m promising not to do. I swear I won’t get hurt again. I’ll be like some prima donna celebrity and make a rule that nobody can get within fifty feet of me. C’mon, please. I can’t afford to lose a whole day.”
“Sorry,” said Mom, not sounding sorry.
