by Amy Brashear
The purpose of a nuclear war was to leave the entire planet devastated beyond recognition, and what if you were President Reagan, and you had to decide if you should push the button or not? What if you’re Konstantin Chernenko, leader of the Soviet Union, and you had to decide if you should push the button or not?
Or not.
But this was fake. In reality the governor would be one of the politicians hiding in some bunker in Mount Weather (a nuclear fallout shelter that’s at a top secret—I say top secret, but everyone knows—location for the president to be relocated when or if the unthinkable happens), waiting until this damn apocalypse passes by. We’d only hear a voice like his while we sat in smoldering ruins listening to a ham radio under candlelight while eating a can of Spam.
“Act natural,” Tyson told DJ Crazy Bob from 95.6.
DJ Crazy Bob actually did a pretty good impression of Governor Clinton. It made the governor from the twenty-fifth state laugh.
“My fellow Americans, I am pleased to tell you today that I’ve signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever. We begin bombing in five minutes,” DJ Crazy Bob said (mimicking Governor Clinton) with a laugh (That was an actual thing that President Reagan said to lighten the mood; however, he was broadcast over the radio on August 11, 1984 and later leaked to the general public), which made us laugh but not the director, who was in a mood. He was even biting his nail and had sweat on his brow. He seemed nervous or worried. And since I was a constant worrier, I was now worried too.
There were a few practice takes with Tyson stepping in for the director and telling the radio host to “ham it up—embrace your southern drawl.”
Once Tyson got the approval from the director, they decided to put it on film.
“Quiet on the set. Quiet on the set. And action!”
* * *
68 There’s Mad Max (1979) and Mad Max 2 (1981), and both movies take place in a not-so-distant future in a postapocalyptic Australia. Both movies were directed by George Miller. The story follows Max Rockatansky as he sets out on a path of revenge because his family was murdered by a biker gang. He’s a total loner. It starred newcomer Mel Gibson.
INT. RADIO STATION—MORNING
GOVERNOR HOLT’s voice is heard over the radio.
Civil Defense sirens sound.
GOVERNOR HOLT
(somberly)
In accordance with the authority vested in me, I hereby declare a Civil Defense emergency to exist in the state of Arkansas. This will put into effect emergency plans for your welfare. Arkansas Civil Defense organizations, including those of counties and assemblies, are directed to mobilize and act in accordance with approved plans, and I’m calling a special session with both houses of the legislature to convene at a place and time I will designate in a later announcement. I will ask that you cooperate with your Civil Defense officials. You will be advised of further developments by radio. Stay tuned for further information. This is Governor Jefferson Holt.
Civil Defense sirens continue to sound.
FADE TO BLACK.
Chapter Thirty
That would be the only take. Governor Clinton’s security detail started talking to their wrists, and he was whisked away. No one said why. We asked too.
At least I did.
The director wasn’t happy, and he voiced his displeasure. He said we were done for the day with a few expletives and headed off the set and to his car, where his driver burned rubber down Main Street. As did the state troopers with the governor. There was a cloud of dust in their way as they headed not in the direction of Little Rock.
Day before Obliteration
Well, if in fact a Red Warning occurs today, we certainly got a beautiful day for it.
The sunny skies and pleasant temperatures for this June day make standing in the middle of Main Street more agreeable while waiting for tensions to rise. If it happens, if the crisis does happen, then there’s a slight possibility The Chronicle will not publish tomorrow. But we will try.
Eve of Destruction, Book, page 50.
Chapter Thirty-One
It was my day to die. It was cold, and the sun wasn’t out yet. The only lights were the ones from the car and a few streetlamps. We pulled into the fairgrounds. Trailer lights were on, and people were running around in a frenzy. Off to the side was a semi with a couple of rides, and the Ferris wheel was being worked on by a crew. The Christmas Festival was to start a week after the movie crew departed. I couldn’t wait to ride the Ferris wheel. It was the only ride I liked to ride.
Dennis was stopped at the gate and was asked his name by a man with a clipboard.
“Just dropping off my kids,” he said.
“Names, sir?” the man asked. “We’ve been having a lot of people trying to get on set, and their names aren’t on the list.”
“Terrence Jennings and Laura Ratliff,” Dennis said.
“Got them,” the man said, checking Terrence’s name and then checking mine with his pencil.
Dennis pulled up a little. He wasn’t allowed to go past the gate.
“You two be good and shine,” Mom said as I opened the door.
“We will, Edna,” Terrence said.
“You two have a ride home?” Dennis asked.
“We’ll find one,” I said.
“The last day,” Mom said. “I didn’t think we’d make it.”
“We love you both,” Dennis said.
“We love you too,” I said.
I closed the door and walked around the car.
BOOM.
The earth shook, and I grabbed Terrence’s coat to keep my balance. His knees buckled and we almost went down.
“Just Skeet,” Tyson said, meeting us at the gate. “He’s going a little overboard with the pyrotechnics.”
BOOM.
“Just you wait until this morning—he’s going to rock this area,” he said, looking at his watch.
Skeet’s big explosion was going to be set off at exactly 10 a.m. Director Edman was a very method director. If the script said 10 a.m., it was going to be 10 a.m. when they said “action.” Like it made any difference.
BOOM.
“And if you’re wondering, yes, neighbors have complained, but we gave them money for their troubles. Who doesn’t like money?”
“How much money?” Terrence asked.
“Ten bucks,” Tyson said.
“That’s all to be away from your house for a few hours?” I asked.
“The whole day,” he said. “Most took our offer. Everyone on the mountain did.”
“So there’s not going to be anyone on the mountain besides us?” I asked.
“That’s right.”
BOOM.
“A lot of people decided to become extras, so they’re getting paid extra if they decide to look like victims. The makeup crew is on hyperdrive.”
Tyson started the engine to the golf cart.
BOOM.
“And people are actually shaving off their hair,” he said. “Grown men and women, not just people your age. Seventy-five dollars must seem like a lot of money for you people.”
“Hey,” I said.
“I know, low blow, sorry.”
“Yeah, sure you are.”
“Yeah, I’m not. Soon I’ll be out of these boondocks. ’Cause honestly, it’s hell here. I needed to run an errand and had to drive thirty minutes to get to civilization, and they didn’t even have what I was looking for. Could order it, but come on, the pony express was probably faster.”
“Hey,” Terrence said.
“What?” Tyson asked. “Come on. Being told to turn left after the fourth cow is not normal.”
BOOM.
Tyson slammed on the brakes in front of Kitty’s trailer.
“But I’ll sure miss you guys,” Tyson said.
I started laughing, but he was being serious.
“I thought you were telling one of those jokes that I don’t get,” I said. “Like your face.” I smiled.
“Harharhar.”
BOOM.
“If Skeet doesn’t watch it, he’s going to destroy the whole area,” Terrence said.
“A bomb will only improve your little town,” Tyson said.
“We can say it. You can’t,” I said.
“But you agree?” Tyson asked.
“I didn’t say that.”
Tyson smiled.
BOOM.
Chapter Thirty-Two
We were going to look like an American flag up on that mountain. Raymond had me in a blue dress while the boys were wearing red. Astrid would be dead. Exactly no one else wanted to be an extra up on the mountain. Everyone wanted to be part of the walking dead.
“Dylan will be filming you from behind, so I’m thinking a braid,” Kitty said, brushing my hair. “And makeup light,” she added, taking the pink eye shadow and dabbing it with a brush on my eyelid.
The door opened and then quickly shut. “Well, hello there, Laura,” Astrid said, taking off her coat.
It was warm in there. Heaters with an S, plural. Those people from Cali (which they certainly did not call it and would roll their eyes if you did) could not handle the cold.
“I’m here to get my death look,” she said. “Apparently, radiation has ravaged my body, eyes swollen, blood coming out of my nose. I’m going to look so pretty.”
“Of course you will,” said Kitty.
“You always do,” added Raymond.
Kitty and Raymond looked at each other. You could cut the sarcasm with a knife.
“Aren’t you both so sweet,” Astrid said, smiling.
Kitty worked on my lips while Raymond was burning pieces of fabric for Astrid’s costume. Yes, her character did get fire-blasted before.
“I’ve been in a firefight,” Astrid said.
“And you lose,” I said.
She laughed. “And I get paid for it.”
“Well, when you go, I’ll miss you,” I said.
“Will you, now?” she said, more of a statement rather than a question.
“Yeah, that’s why I said it.”
“I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”
“You’re not going to stick around for the end-of-filming party?”
“It’s called a wrap party,” she said.
“Oh—”
“Besides, I’m up for the next John Hughes film. I’m playing the character named Sloane.”
“Cool,” I said.
“It is cool. I’m going to have to fall in love with the boy who almost nuked Seattle.”
“That won’t be hard,” I said.
“Yeah, you don’t exactly understand acting, but I get your point. He’s cute,” she said, smiling.
Kitty fixed the flyaways with a bit of hair spray and retouched my lipstick while Raymond helped me with my coat. The zipper got stuck on a snag. The coat was at least two sizes too big, but they assured me this was how all the actresses wore them.
“Are you all going to be alone up there without hair and makeup?” Astrid said, so distraught I thought she was going to cry for us.
“No, we’re coming,” said Kitty.
She shook her head. “I want to see what Skeet has in store. You know, the big bang.”
I grabbed my Nuke Me tote bag, and out the door I went. I stood off to the side, waiting for the yellow school bus with Astrid, who was just getting in the way.
“You should be studying your line,” she said.
I didn’t want to overdo it with mine. It was like over-studying for a test. And anyway, I was just there to look pretty, as Astrid would have said.
Terrence was with Freddy in his trailer, probably playing video games. Owen was walking toward me. I haven’t had much contact with him since filming began. And now we have to act together. I didn’t know what I would say. Hey? Hello? Or just hi? But he walked right by me. Didn’t say anything, like I wasn’t even standing there.
“Owen, stop!” Tyson yelled as he ran right into him.
“I’m sorry,” Owen said. “They dilated my eyes. I can’t see a damn thing.”
“Why didn’t they wait until you got where you are going?” Astrid asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
I walked over to Owen, who was leaning up against a chain-link fence and staring down at the ground.
“I was going to say who goes there, but I smell your perfume,” he said.
“I’m not wearing any,” I said.
“Oh, Laura, I thought it was Astrid,” he said.
“Seriously,” Astrid said. “I’m offended by that.”
“Wait—you’re offended by that? I should be.”
Astrid laughed.
“I’m sorry, Laura,” Owen said.
“It’s my own fault,” Astrid said. “I sprayed a little of Opium by Yves Saint Laurent on her.”
“Did I smell?” I asked.
“No, of course not,” she said. “I was being nice.” She shook her head. “I’ll try better next time.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
The school bus drove up, and the bus driver opened the door, and Tyson was the first on. Owen was blindly going along. I ran up to him and took his arm.
“Who’s there?” he asked, but didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Doesn’t matter. I can do it myself.”
“But—” I said.
“I can do it myself.”
“You can do it yourself,” I repeated.
I followed him on and took a seat three rows behind him.
The director and Dylan came walking up the steps of the bus. The director looked at Tyson. “I have an important job for you. You will communicate with this with Skeet down on Main Street.” He handed him a walkie-talkie.
The director and Dylan sat behind the bus driver. Tyson found his seat opposite them. All we were waiting on were Freddy and Terrence.
“All here?” Tyson asked. “Nope, missing two.”
“Here, we’re here,” said Freddy, breathing heavy, as was Terrence. Coach Flynn would be so proud. The first game of the season was soon. “Starting point guard out of breath equaled out of shape” didn’t sound too good, did it?
“Ready?” the bus driver asked.
“We’re ready,” Tyson said.
“Let’s get going,” Owen said. “The faster we get this over with, the faster I can see.”
“Why didn’t you wait until we got to the mountain?” Freddy asked.
“Again, that’s a very good question.”
EXT. MAIN STREET—DAY
Zoom in on brick building covered in posters.
INSERT POSTER—CIVIL DEFENSE TEST IS AT 10 A.M. TODAY; NORMAL ACTIVITIES OF CITY TO SUSPEND FOR ONE HOUR
FADE TO:
INT. MARTHA’S HOME—MORNING
HER MOTHER is going through her closet. MARTHA is sitting on her bed playing with the ruffles on her pillow.
MARTHA
What do you wear for the end of the world?
HER MOTHER turns to her daughter and smiles.
MOTHER
Your best, as always.
FADE OUT.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Come in, Yellow Bus. Come in, Yellow Bus,” we heard over the walkie-talkie.
“This is Yellow Bus. Come in, Black Van,” Tyson said, holding down the button on his walkie-talkie.
“Hold up; we have to turn around. Kitty forgot a chest we need,” Raymond said over the walkie-talkie.
Tyson leaned across the aisle and told the director, who sighed, rubbed his forehead, and nodded. The director didn’t look like he’d slept a wi
nk.
“Ten-four?”
“Roger that.”
It was only a thirty-minute drive, and traffic wasn’t that bad. Only semis and a few cars with out-of-state tags traveling west. Our caravan was down to just us. One yellow school bus. The director kept looking at his watch. The sun was barely rising behind us. He was worried about the time. By my calculations we had plenty, but I’d only been in the movie business for a few weeks.
The bus driver veered off the interstate and turned right at the stop sign. And up the mountain road we went. I turned my head to look out the window but quickly closed my eyes when the sun blinded me.
When we arrived, Max was waiting with his hands stuck in his pockets near the mountain’s edge.
It took a few maneuvers, but the bus driver finally parked the bus in a way that was easy for us to leave when filming was finished and without it being seen on camera. He opened the door.
“Good luck,” he said.
“I don’t need luck,” Mr. Edman replied.
“All right, then.”
The crew had come and set up the night before. Max and his dad had supervised, while his mom passed out hot chocolate.
“Dad’s sleeping. He’ll be back by the end of the day,” Max said.
“Stay out of the way,” Tyson said, looking at Max.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Max said, saluting him.
Owen was standing next to the bus. I kept looking over at him, but he was staring at the ground.
“What’s wrong with Owen?” Max asked.
“I’m not deaf,” Owen said. “I just can’t see.”
“Need a hand?”
“Nope, I’m good,” he said, leaning against the bus.
It was cold. Colder than usual. But even though it had snowed in Griffin Flat, there wasn’t a touch of white powder on the mountain. We were wearing summer clothing under our heavy coats. Everyone was complaining in their own way.
