The woman muttered, threw the sponge back into the black cosmetics case she was carrying, and pulled out a small round brush.
“Why don’t we do it once your way and once my way, hmm?” Cash Ashkinos said as the makeup artist began dusting Wilder with “mattifying powder,” whatever that was. “Once where the helmet comes off, once where it stays on. Then, later, we see which one plays better.”
Wilder gave him a suspicious look, but smiled.
“Sure. Give and take, that’s what it’s all about,” he said. “Speaking of which, Jack’s got some other ideas we could try out. We need more frisson, more panache. The dialogue in the script sounds like it was written by a twelve-year-old.”
“Hey!” Silas said. “What’s he talking about? I’m twelve and I write great dialogue. Remember the scene where Bald Eagle is wounded by Lady Evilika, and he says, ‘Don’t worry, she only winged me?’ That was good enough to have been written by a thirteen-year-old!”
“Does Damon Wilder seem like kind of a nut to you?” DeMarco whispered.
“I don’t know about nut, but jerk, definitely,” said Silas.
Tesla leaned in close to her brother.
“I think I’m beginning to see why Zoe kept putting off the set visit,” she whispered.
“Because it’s such a long walk from the parking area?” Nick whispered back.
Tesla glared at him.
“I don’t mean that. I’m talking about—”
She jerked her head in Damon Wilder’s direction. “Him.”
“Oh,” said Nick.
Nick eyed the actor, who was telling Ashkinos, “You’ve got to let me monologue, Cash. We’ll never get deep into Metalman’s persona if I can’t monologue,” as Barbara the makeup artist dusted his face.
Aunt Zoe was looking profoundly unhappy.
“Wilder does seem kind of, um, intense,” said Nick. “But I don’t know. Isn’t that what actors are supposed to be like?”
“It’s more than just the way he’s acting,” Tesla said. “There were those protestors, too. How did they find out that this is a Metalman movie? And what do they have against Wilder?”
Nick gave his sister a long-suffering look.
“A guy’s walking around downtown Half Moon Bay in a Metalman outfit, Tez. Even with guards to keep people off the set, someone’s gonna notice sooner or later. And Metalman fans need only one reason to dislike Wilder: He’s not Richard Johns-Ford III.”
Tesla shook her head.
“I think there’s more to it than that. Something weird is going on around here.”
Silas and DeMarco sidled up beside their friends.
“Did I just hear you say, ‘Something weird is going on around here’?” DeMarco asked, keeping his voice low.
He threw a nervous glance at his aunt, who had placed herself between Wilder and Ashkinos and seemed to be trying to calm them both down.
“ ’Cuz I know what happens after you say that,” DeMarco said. “The weird just keeps getting weirder and weirder until the cops show up.”
“I swear, girlfriend,” Silas said to Tesla. “You could find a mystery just going to the fridge for a Coke.”
Tesla, Nick, and DeMarco gaped at him.
“Girlfriend?” Tesla said.
Silas blinked.
“I’m just trying to have a little more sass. Like Blake ‘The Brick’ Anderson, the wisecracking cop in The Quick and the Curious 3. You don’t like it?”
“No,” Tesla said.
“Anyway,” said DeMarco, “please don’t try to turn this into some kind of adventure. You know I’m usually up for that, but not when my aunt might find out and tell my mom.”
Tesla folded her arms across her chest.
“I’m not trying to turn anything into an adventure. I’m just noticing that something’s weird.”
Silas swiped a hand at her.
“It’s show biz, baby. It wouldn’t be normal if it wasn’t weird.”
When Silas saw the look on Tesla’s face, he added hastily, “No ‘baby,’ either. Got it.”
As the kids talked, the makeup artist finished touching up Wilder’s look. Ashkinos led the actor off to a spot in front of the theater, speaking to him in a low but intense tone.
“Yes. I see. Got it. Perfect,” Wilder said, nodding.
A prop guy trailed behind, fiddling with the silver helmet as he walked.
Meanwhile, several crew members had taken up position in front of the movie theater. One had a bulky camera perched on his shoulder. Another was holding a long pole with what looked like a fluffy throw pillow stuck onto the end of it. (This was in fact a microphone, covered to keep the wind from causing unwanted noise.)
“Ready inside?” yet another crew member said into his walkie-talkie.
A burst of static followed, and then a woman’s voice barked back, “Ready!”
The man with the walkie-talkie gave Ashkinos a thumbs-up.
Ashkinos patted Wilder on the back and then turned and stalked off. As he left, the man holding the helmet stepped up, helped Wilder put it on, and then jogged away as well.
“Roll sound,” Ashkinos said to a woman sitting near Video Village and fiddling with electronic equipment.
“Sound speed,” she said.
“Roll camera,” said Ashkinos.
“Camera speed,” said the guy holding the camera.
One of the crew members who was huddled beside the cameraman then leaned in front of the camera, holding out a black-and-white board with glowing red numbers.
“Marker. Scene thirty, take one,” she said. She lifted a ruler-like length of wood attached to the top of the board with a single bolt and then slapped it down with a clack!
“Action!” said Ashkinos.
“Cool,” Silas and DeMarco whispered in unison, mesmerized.
Tesla was about to shush them, but whatever she might have said would have been drowned out by the howls of the drooling, green-skinned “zomboids” now staggering out of the movie theater. Once a good twenty or thirty of the undead had reached the sidewalk, the cameraman swiveled to point his lens toward a lone shiny figure, arms akimbo and legs spread wide, standing farther up the block.
Tesla wasn’t really into comic books or action movies, but even she had to admit the whole experience was pretty amazing. They were about to see Metalman (or at least a guy dressed like Metalman) confront a rampaging zombified horde. It was easy to believe that she was watching a crowd infected with an alien zombie virus, instead of a bunch of actors in green goopy makeup.
“Remember what Zoe said in the car?” Nick whispered to her. “It really is like a dream.” Tesla agreed. Whatever weirdness might be going on around that movie set, this moment was magical.
“The fault, Lord Computron,” Wilder was saying, his voice tinged with a trace of British accent, “lies in our—hey!”
And then Metalman began to twitch and shiver.
“Hey,” Wilder repeated. This time the shiver was a full-on convulsion. “Hey!”
“I can see why he wanted to change the dialogue,” Silas whispered. “That’s terrible.”
Wilder was jerking in a circle, his hands desperately clawing at his armor.
“Ooo! Ow! Hey!” he yelped.
Then the actor dropped to the pavement, shuddering and jerking wildly.
“That isn’t dialogue!” Tesla shouted, bursting into a dash toward the fallen Wilder. “Something’s gone horribly wrong!”
Nick, Silas, and DeMarco looked at one another.
They were standing on a movie set watching a scene being filmed, and they really, really didn’t want to get thrown off because they had freaked out and ran in front of the camera.
On the other hand, they couldn’t imagine a Metalman movie in which the hero is supposed to confront a bunch of zombies and say “Ooo! Ow! Hey!” and then have a seizure. And even if that was how the scene was supposed to go, Tesla had already ruined it by running to Damon Wilder’s side.
On t
he other other hand, none of the dozens of adults standing around were moving in to check on the quivering actor. Which suggested that this shaking fit was in the script.
On the other other other hand—
“Well, come on!” Tesla called back over her shoulder.
And with that, all the boys sprinted after her.
“DeMarco! What are you doing?” Aunt Zoe called out.
“I have no idea!” DeMarco said.
When the boys caught up to Tesla, she was kneeling beside the writhing, thrashing costume-covered man, her hands holding onto his gleaming metal helmet.
“So, what are we doing?” Silas asked.
“I think there’s something wrong with his armor!” Tesla said, tugging on the helmet.
“Get it off me! Get it off me!” Wilder screamed.
“Help me take it off him!” Tesla said.
“My skin! My skin!” Wilder was screeching now.
Nick took hold of the helmet and started tugging along with Tesla, while Silas grabbed one of Wilder’s boots and DeMarco grabbed the other.
“Man, this stuff is on tight,” Silas groused as he yanked fruitlessly on the boot. “It’s like he’s welded into it.”
“Ow! Hey! Don’t pull my foot off!” Wilder howled.
“Sorry,” Silas said.
Wilder went back to shrieking about his skin.
“Why aren’t the grown-ups helping?” DeMarco asked.
Indeed, the crew members and zomboids and everyone else were still standing around staring. Then Aunt Zoe and Cash Ashkinos started walking toward them—slowly, cautiously.
“Is this improv?” Ashkinos asked. “I’m starting to think there’s really something wrong with him.”
“I don’t know.” Aunt Zoe said. She sounded concerned. “It could be more method.”
“No, this isn’t acting!” Wilder wailed. “Even I’m not this good! Ahhhhhhh!”
Then the prop man dashed up next to Silas and helped him yank one of Metalman’s shiny boots. It tore loose with the sound of crumpling metal and ripping fabric.
“Watch it with the suit,” the prop guy said. “That thing cost $100,000.”
“It’s like I’m on fire!” Wilder cried. “On fire!”
Cash Ashkinos sighed. He didn’t look scared or worried. Just annoyed.
“A hundred grand is cheap compared to Wilder,” he said. “Get the suit off him as fast as you can, Matt.”
“You’re the boss.”
Matt—a.k.a. the prop guy—waved back Silas and the other kids. Then he moved to Wilder’s head and grasped the helmet. He pulled and twisted. It looked like he was taking Wilder’s head off—and it sounded like that, too, from the way the actor yelped. But a moment later, the helmet came free, and Wilder’s head remained attached to his neck.
Wilder stared up at the man, wild eyed, red faced, and sweaty.
“It’s not my head that’s the problem! It’s my shoulders! And my back! And my butt! Ahhhhhhh!”
Matt looked up at Ashkinos.
“Do it,” Ashkinos said.
Matt began tearing apart the Metalman armor.
“I think somebody put something in the costume,” Tesla said to Aunt Zoe. “You should probably get him into a shower when he’s finally freed.”
Aunt Zoe gave her a quizzical look. She started to reply, but a loud “Oh, my!” cut her off. There were several other gasps, a few chortles, and even a low whistle, all coming from the various crew members, P.A.s, security guards, and various personnel who’d gathered around the scene. Matt was almost done ripping the Metalman suit off the actor. And Wilder, it turned out, was wearing nothing under his costume but a pair of skimpy cotton underwear known far and wide as “tighty-whities.” Suddenly a pair of P.A.s came swooping in to help Wilder stand, wrapping him in a robe. Which wasn’t easy since Wilder kept scratching wildly at himself.
Nick turned to say something to Tesla but found his sister trying to see over the crowd, craning to get a peek at Wilder.
“What?” she said when she noticed her brother was looking at her. “I wanted to see if he had burns or a rash.”
“Did he?”
Tesla shook her head. “Just some scrapes.”
It was too late for Nick to steal a peek of his own.
“What happened?” Ashkinos asked his star.
“I don’t know!” Wilder said, still scratching. “One second I was hitting my mark, ready to say my lines, and the next my skin was on fire. It’s not as bad now that I’m out of that tin can.”
“Well, I think you’d probably better go to your trailer,” Aunt Zoe said. She threw a quick glance at Tesla. “And a shower seems like a good idea.”
“And some rest,” Ashkinos added.
He slapped Wilder on the back.
Wilder winced.
“Take whatever time you need, Damon,” he said.
“Fine,” Wilder said miserably as he left. “But I’ll be back, Cash. I can do this scene!”
“Sure. Sure, you can, Damon,” Ashkinos said.
As soon as the actor had limped out of earshot, Ashkinos clapped his hands together and rubbed them gleefully.
“All-righty, then—we’re back to CGI Metalman.”
“Cash,” Matt said, holding up the tatters of the Metalman suit, “it’s totaled. There’s only one good one left now.”
“We’ll blow up that bridge when we come to it. All right, people! Let’s get ready to run it again!”
On the director’s order, crew members began hustling to and fro, and the zombies turned and shuffled back into the movie theater.
“Excuse me,” Tesla said to Matt the prop guy, who had started walking away with the ruined costume. “May I take a look at that?”
Matt peered at her from behind his squat square-framed eyeglasses.
“Just who are you, anyway?”
“A guest of Zoe Helms,” DeMarco said. “Isn’t that right, Aunt Zoe?”
Aunt Zoe hesitated only a moment before saying “yes.”
At that moment, Cash Ashkinos walked up and stood next to Aunt Zoe. “I never got a chance to officially meet your guests. That was some impressive reaction time, you guys. Damon was lucky you were so quick to jump in and help him. Otherwise, he might still be lying there itching like crazy.” For a second it seemed like Ashkinos was imagining that very scenario, smiling at the idea. But then he quickly held out his arm to shake hands with each of the kids. Silas was last.
“You may as well let her take a look at the armor, Matt,” Aunt Zoe said. “It’s not like she could ruin the suit any more than it already is.”
“That’s … some grip …” Ashkinos was saying to Silas, who was still pumping the director’s hand furiously, an idiotic grin plastered on his face. He seemed unwilling to let go.
Matt sighed and then motioned for Tesla to approach, adding in a resigned tone: “Fine. Have at it, kid.”
Tesla walked over and began examining the blue and silver armor, especially the black nylon holding it all together.
Nick joined her. Then DeMarco.
Meanwhile, Cash Ashkinos was still trying to pull away from Silas’s grip. “If you’ll excuse me … ,” Cash said, “I have to … direct …” And with a final yank, he pulled his hand free.
For a moment or two, Silas continued to shake an invisible hand in the empty air. “I eagle camera good!” he stammered. “Silas!”
“Okay, then,” Cash said. “I’m going over there now. Nice to meet you, Simon.”
Meanwhile, Aunt Zoe had joined Tesla and the others, gathered around the pile of Metalman armor.
“See anything?” Aunt Zoe asked.
“Not yet, but—a-ha!”
“A-ha?” repeated Aunt Zoe.
“That usually means she found something,” DeMarco explained.
“Umm, yes. I guessed as much,” Aunt Zoe said. “But what?”
Tesla pointed at the costume.
“That.”
Everyone—even Matt the
prop guy—leaned in for a closer look.
There was a group thonk, and then everyone leaned out again, rubbing their foreheads.
“Let’s try that one at a time,” Aunt Zoe said.
One by one, Aunt Zoe, then Matt, then the boys peered into the costume. And one by one they saw a long streak of granular, orange-brown particles ground into the nylon.
“That’s on the inside of the costume, right?” Tesla asked Matt.
He nodded.
“Sure. Up around here.”
He touched the back of his neck and shoulders.
Tesla and Nick looked at each other.
“Looks like you’re not the only one who knows about [WORD CENSORED BY THE PUBLISHER’S LEGAL DEPARTMENT],” said Nick.
“[WORD CENSORED BY THE PUBLISHER’S LEGAL DEPARTMENT]?” said Aunt Zoe. “What’s that?”
“The main ingredient in itching powder,” Nick explained.
Matt scoffed. “Itching powder? That’s just some dumb gag in old comic books.”
Nick and Tesla shook their heads grimly.
“It isn’t?” DeMarco said.
“No. It’s real,” said Nick. “It’s nasty stuff, too. You’d have to be pretty mean to make up a batch and use it on somebody.”
He gave his sister a significant look.
“It was just once, okay?!” she blurted out. “And that kid was the worst lab partner in the history of the universe!”
Tesla’s admission was followed by a moment of awkward silence.
“Annnyway,” Aunt Zoe said, “does the itching powder work immediately?”
“It’s instantaneous,” Nick said.
Tesla rubbed her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Which means—”
But she was unable to finish her thought.
“Where’s my star? My boy? My dear, dear friend?” a voice suddenly wailed behind her. “Is he all right? Sweet Lord in heaven, tell me he’s all right!”
Everyone turned to find a white-haired man in a suit running toward them. He wore a panic-stricken expression on a face so tanned and taut that it looked like football leather.
“Damon’s fine, Bob,” Aunt Zoe said to him. “And he’s not here.”
“Oh.”
The man stopped running, and the fear immediately left his face.
Nick and Tesla's Special Effects Spectacular Page 4
