by Ni-Ni Simone
“You’re nothing!”
I’m Wu-Wu!
“I made you. I’m the real star!”
“Cut!” the director yelled, jumping up from his chair. “What the hell are you doing, Heather?”
“Huh?” I blinked, and looked around at my television parents, who stared back at me in confusion. I shot them a fake smile.
Before I could say anything the director yelled, “Have you gone insane! What is wrong with you? This is the third time we’ve had to redo this take!” He violently clapped his hands together. “We’re wasting time and time is money!” He clapped his hands again. “Now take it from the top for the fourth time!” He rolled his eyes and huffed his way back into his chair.
I need a Black Beauty.
No I don’t. I can do this. Okay . . . okay . . . I got this... here goes. It was like déjà vu as I stood at the makeshift door, waited for my cue, skipped across the set, said my lines, fed this overgrown dog a piece of bacon, and just as my television dad said, “I know that’s a nickname for Roberta” . . . I drew a blank. A complete and utter blank and just as I saw my director turn beet red I said, “Umm, I have diarrhea.”
Where in the hell did that come from . . .?
“CUT!” The director jumped from his seat, purposefully knocked it to the floor, and kicked it out of his way. In the midst of him throwing a two-year-old’s tantrum he shook the script in the air and sailed it toward the set. The ceiling looked to be raining paper, scaring the dog. “What the hell is wrong with you!” he screamed at me. “Are you an idiot?! You have screwed up four takes in a row!” He held up four fingers. “FOUR TAKES! I don’t know what your problem is, Heather. But I need Wu-Wu! Wu-Wu Tanner. Do you have any idea where in the hell she is? You know what, maybe, maybe we need to take five. Take ten. Matter of fact maybe we need to take twenty while you go and get Wu-Wu and let her know that if she doesn’t resume her place on the show, she will be unemployed!” He stormed off the set, speaking in angry tongues.
I felt like a Navy knot had made its way into my throat and was threatening to strangle me at any moment.
My eyes welled and Jani patted my hand. “It’ll be okay,” she said. “It happens to the best of us. Go to your dressing room, relax, and we’ll see you in twenty.”
I looked over at José and he smiled. “Don’t sweat it, kiddo. Things happen. Like Jani said, go back to your dressing room and maybe meditate. It’ll come to you.”
I looked over at Spencer, who looked just as embarrassed as I was. My full eyes were about to overflow at any moment.
“You’re nothing . . .!”
Maybe you’re right. . . .
I jumped from my seat and ran straight to my dressing room. Never once looking back. I quickly slammed the door and locked it behind me.
I’m nothing . . . nothing . . . nothing . . . can’t even get my lines straight...
I felt like I was about to hyperventilate. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I screamed, knocking everything off of the glass vanity’s counter with one swing of an arm. The make-up, perfume, barrettes, and copies of the script swished to the floor. The broken bottles of perfume quickly saturated the script, causing the words to disappear from the paper the same way they’d disappeared from my head.
I can’t do anything!
I’m nothing!
I ruin everything!
I grabbed a handful of costumes and yanked down my wardrobe. I tossed all the clothes to the floor and sweat gathered on my forehead, drenching my face.
Why can’t you get yourself together, Heather!
“Because you’re a junkie!” Camille’s voice raced into my head. The walls were closing in on me and the ceiling looked like it would fall on my head at any moment. My silk-walled dressing room had gone from a customized space to a place that I no longer wanted to be in.
I don’t think I can breathe.
I can’t breathe. . . .
Get it together.
“I will replace you!” the director’s voice echoed in my head.
“I made you! I’m the real star!” Camille’s voice taunted me.
“Get out of my head!” I screamed as tears fell from my eyes.
Knock... Knock...
I jumped. Wiped my eyes and yelled, “What!”
“Heather, it’s Spencer.”
“I’ll be out soon, Spencer.” The last thing I needed was for her to see me like this. . . .
“Let me in,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you.”
I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes. I thought about telling her to go away. Of all the days to invite her here...
“Heather, open up.”
I sighed as I cracked the door open enough for Spencer to slide into the dressing room. I quickly locked it behind her.
Spencer leaned back against the door and eyed the room slowly, soaking up every inch of my self-made hurricane. “Umm, Heather, is this what has you so upset? That they didn’t send housekeeping? I don’t blame you because I’d be mad, too. You’re a star and obviously by your director’s hissy fit the show can’t go on without you. So they really, really need to clean your dressing room.”
This girl had no idea. For a moment I wondered what it must be like to be Spencer, to not have a care or a clue in the world. . . .
“And umm, Heather, what is a Snuckum-Snuckum-Wukums and a Pinky-Poo? Those names are just so, so . . . stupid. And why did they add that hideous laugh track? For a moment I thought a bunch of hyenas had escaped from the San Diego Zoo. Dear Jesus, it tore my nerves to pieces.”
I wiped my eyes and snapped. “Spencer, really, who cares!”
“I care. I don’t want them calling you that. And I don’t want to hear that stupid laugh track.” She paused. Walked over to me and squinted, “Are you crying, Heather?”
“No,” I said, with my eyes full and threatening to spill a river of tears any second. “I’m overdosing on Visine.”
“Really?”
I quickly turned away and did everything I could not to break down. “Just give me a minute, Spencer.”
“No, Heather,” she said. “I can’t leave you here upset like this. And I’m really concerned about you overdosing on Visine.”
“Spencer, I was being sarcastic. I’m not overdosing on Visine.”
“Then what is it? Are you upset with that nasty director of yours? If you need me to I will mace him down to his smiley-face booty shorts. I will bring him to his flour-caked knees and you know it. Just say the word ‘Mace’ and I’ll cuss him out in French and give him a burning sensation to scream about! Trust me, that’ll be the last time he gets it crackadank with you! And if you want, that St. Bernard can get it, too!”
“I don’t want to mace the director or that nasty dog!” Tears spilled from my eyes without my permission. “I just want to get out of here!” I grabbed my purse and walked toward the door.
“Heather, wait!” Spencer ran and blocked the door.
“Move, Spencer!”
“Just wait!”
“I’m tired of waiting!” I flung my arms in the air. “What the hell am I waiting for? To mess up again? This is over, Spencer! I’m done! Finished. And I really don’t give a damn what happens next! I’m tired and I’ve had enough.”
“Just relax, Heather. You only tripped over a few lines and they were stupid anyway.”
“It’s not about the lines! It’s about everything!” My head pounded, my hands trembled, and my stomach boiled. I hated this feeling!
I hated that every time I took a break and didn’t snort Black Beauty for a day that I crashed. Sank to the bottom of hell. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t focus. All I could think about was Black Beauty.
It was never supposed to be like this. Black Beauty was only supposed to relieve my stress and put me in the mood to party.
Not make me sick if I didn’t have a hit.
Not interfere with my job.
Not become my out-of-control personal assistant.
I felt l
ike... like... I was caught up in a torturous love affair and I didn’t want this sick and twisted pervert anymore.
It couldn’t keep me happy and I was tired of chasing the same dream. The dream that I would feel like I did the first time Black Beauty gave me an orgasmic high.
Like I was floating on air.
Like everything that was wrong was suddenly right. And I didn’t care that Camille was a drunk, who I just wanted so badly to love me. And it didn’t matter that I didn’t have a dad. I was Superwoman. I could walk on water if I wanted to.
But when the high left I was back to being a wreck. Out of control.
Instantly paranoid and haunted by the nagging monkey who loved to whisper in my ear about how messed up I truly was. “I have to go, Spencer!”
“You can’t run out like this!” She grabbed my arm.
I snatched it away. “Get off of me! Now move!”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Spencer screamed with tears racing to her eyes. “You’re going crazy! You’re scaring me! Would you stop it? Just stop it, stop running. Tell me what’s wrong, Heather! Please. Let me help you!”
As if I was placed on pause I stopped, looked at Spencer and said, “You can’t help me.”
“Try me.”
Tears soaked my cheeks. And no matter how hard I tried to stand up, my legs became brittle branches and I fell onto Spencer’s arms. “Oh, Heather,” she said. “No matter what’s wrong, it’s going to be okay.” She rubbed my back. “Nothing is this bad.”
“I’m just a mess. I have messed up my life.”
“No you haven’t. And you’re not a mess, you’re smart. You’re pretty. You’re talented. You have people who look up to you.”
“Then they must be pretty low down, because I am knee deep in it.”
“Heather, stop saying those things about yourself, they’re not true. You have fans who love you!”
“They don’t love me! They don’t even know me! All they know is what the paper writes about me or the life they imagine me to have. But they don’t know me. They know Wu-Wu. They love Wu-Wu, but they don’t know a thing about Heather!”
“What don’t they know?”
“They don’t know how tired I am. How it’s soooo much pressure.”
“Let the pressure go.”
“I wish it was that easy.”
“It can be.”
“But it’s not. It’s like everywhere I turn everybody’s looking at me. Like I’m a mirror and everyone gets to stand still, judge my life, and give me their opinion! I’m tired of that! Sometimes I just want to throw my hands in the air and say to hell with it! Just throw everything away!”
“Heather, you can’t throw everything away. Because if you do then who will I walk the red carpet with?”
“You have Rich and London.”
“Now you know those two angry ostriches make my nose run! I’m trying to get to the Oscars. The only place Shaneeka and Laquita will ever be are the BET Awards with two gangsta rappers on their arms.”
Despite what I felt I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Spencer, it’s just soooo much. And I don’t have anybody.”
“You have me.” She wiped my tears. “And you know what?”
“What?”
“I look up to you.”
What did she say? “You do what? Are you serious?”
“Cross my heart.” She gave a slight giggle. “I love The Wu-Wu Tanner Show.” She rolled her eyes in delight.
“Really? Or are you just saying that?”
“No, I really watch your show faithfully.”
“You do?” I said surprised.
“Yes! I know every episode,” she said excitedly. “I even have the first season on DVD.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And you know what my favorite episode was?”
“What?”
“It was the episode where Wu-Wu wanted to perform at a talent show, but didn’t think she could do it. But Wu-Wu’s parents encouraged her and told her that she could do anything she put her mind to; and they told her that they loved her and would be there to support her. So, she had nothing to worry about. After that, she took a chance and when Wu-Wu stepped up on that stage and belted out that sooooong...” Spencer snapped her fingers. “That was when I knew you were special, girlfriend! That’s when I knew you had it! And that had nothing to do with you being Wu-Wu Tanner. That had everything to do with you being the beautiful and talented Heather Cummings! The amazing actress and beautiful songbird!
“And do you wanna know what else, girlfriend, my heart fluttered with so much pride and joy that I knew you. You were in my crew. And that bearilla Rich would never admit this, but she came to school bragging about you to everyone.”
“Rich?” I asked, shocked.
“Yes, Rich! The original jealous dream killer. That was the only day I didn’t feel like smacking her face.”
I chuckled. “You really don’t like her, do you?”
“Can’t stand her! And if I ever get her in a dark closet I would tear her up!”
I laughed and wiped tears. “Yeah, beat her and her diamonds down into the ground.”
“Karate-kick her straight to Jesus! And that London—” Spencer squinted her eyes and rubbed her hands together. “Oh, London, I’d take her by the nape of her thick neck and mollywhop her up and down Hollywood Boulevard.”
“Smear all the New York out of her!”
“Yup. And even though we made up with them and everything, that night when they left my house I still ordered a super-sized can of Mace and marked it ‘Whup-azz’! ’”
I laughed and the next thing I knew Spencer and I were cracking up. We laughed so hard that we fell against the walls and slid to the floor. “See, Heather,” Spencer said, as we tried to collect ourselves. “Things aren’t so bad after all.”
“Maybe not.” I shrugged, unsure.
“There’s no maybe. It’s not that bad. And you can do this, Heather!”
I looked at Spencer, whose eyes were filling with tears. “I just want you to believe in yourself the way I believe in you,” she said.
I wiped her tears and said, “I believe it.”
We hugged tightly and at that very moment I felt closer to her than I’d ever felt to anyone.
“Now come on.” Spencer rose from the floor and extended me her hand. “Let’s get it together, because if that director yells at you like that again, I will be all over him. As a matter of fact I’m going to speak to him now and then I’ll be dealing with somebody in housekeeping. This dressing room is an absolute wreck!”
I wiped my eyes and hugged her again. “Thank you, Spencer.”
“Don’t thank me. You just get Wu-Wu together.”
“I will,” I said as Spencer gave me a high five and walked out of my dressing room. She closed the door behind her and I looked at myself in the mirror.
This is the last time...
No more after this...Just enough to get my Wu-Wu back.
I freshened up. And ten minutes later, I felt like I’d had a makeover. I strutted back on the set, my Wu-Wu was in full effect, and by the time the take was finished I’d murdered each and every one of my lines. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” the director yelled. “Now that’s the Wu-Wu everybody loves!”
We wrapped up, I introduced Spencer to the cast, and then we said our good-byes to everyone.
I felt like a brand-new person as Spencer and I walked out of the studio and to the parking lot. My curls bounced as I pulled my shoulders back, held my head up high, and did a two-step with my oversized bag in the crook of my arm. “Ahh, Wu-Wu’s in the house!” I said.
“Without a doubt!” Spencer said as we walked toward her truck.
She clicked her doors open and I said, “Thank you for coming. I couldn’t have made it through this without you.”
“That’s what friends are for. And besides I wouldn’t have missed this for anything!” She smiled and slid into her Range Rover. She started
her engine, pressed on the gas, and revved it a little too hard, scaring a few people in the parking lot, including me.
I jumped back and as Spencer backed out of her parking space I noticed that she never looked behind her.
Jesus!
Crash! Bash! Boom!
“Oh no! Why would somebody park directly behind me!” she screamed out the window, looking toward the studio van she’d just about cracked in half. “Ohmy-begeezus!” she yelled. “That’s a big dent. And is that the front bumper on the ground? You know what, Heather, since you owe me one, do me a favor, pick that up and write a note for me. Tell them to put some tape on that and I’ll be back and we can work out the damages later.”
All I could do was laugh. Gotta love Spencer. I waved bye and a few seconds later my driver pulled up beside me and opened the door. I slid into the backseat and just as I lay back and thought about my day my cell phone rang.
I answered, “Wassup, Co-Co Pops!”
“Hey Wu-Wu,” he said, sounding somber.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing,” he attempted to assure me. “I just want you to know that I’m going to give you my gold necklace with the single pearl on it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s special to me and I want you to have it.”
“You love that necklace though, Co-Co.”
“I know and I love you. I’m glad that we became friends.”
“I’m glad, too, Co-Co but why are you sounding like that? Is everything okay? Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing that I can’t make right.”
“What are you talking about, Co-Co?”
“I love you, Wu-Wu.”
“I love you, too. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I love you and talk to you later.” He hung up.
I love you . . . ? I’ll talk to you later...? That sounds nothing like the party boy dressed in pink that I know. . . .
“I’m going to give you my gold necklace with the pearl on it,” I repeated in my head.
I hate that necklace, but he loves it... said he would never part from it...
I lay back against the backseat and as the driver pulled onto the highway I said, “Lawrence, take me to Co-Co Ming’s.”
