by Sophie Lee
Alice looked around the space. A well-nourished ficus tree sat in a black pot in the left corner under the window. Its deep green leaves shone even under the dull glow of the fluorescent lights. There was no other furniture.
Alice cleared her throat to speak. 'Are there any forms to fill in?' She addressed the question to the actress reading the paperback. When the girl looked up she recognised her as Molly, the redhead who had tested for the same role in Rough Beast Slouching. She was the one who had said something about playing a fun cripple in Canada.
'Oh hi,' said Alice, 'how are you? I guess we missed out on that British journalist job, huh?'
'Huh? Oh, right,' Molly replied, smiling as she remembered. She closed her book over her finger to keep her place. 'Um, no forms for this one but be warned, they're way behind schedule.'
'No worries,' Alice shrugged, and in lieu of any seating, parked her bum on the floor.
Molly rolled her eyes, smiled, and returned to her paperback.
Alice flipped open her satchel and dug around for a box of Tic Tacs. After a couple of minutes' rummaging, she finally found it hidden away in her makeup purse. The box contained one lonely mint that clung for dear life to the side of the container. She tapped it vigorously until it surrendered the position and she flipped the lid. 'Sorry, pal,' she whispered. She picked it up with her thumb and index finger and placed it into her mouth, careful not to smear her lip-gloss.
'Molly?' someone called from within the annexed casting room. The door opened. 'Molly?' the voice belonged to a woman who wore her brown hair scraped back into a bun.
Molly calmly closed her book and placed it in her backpack. She stood up and smiled at Alice. 'Sit down,' she mouthed, pointing at her chair. Alice felt pins and needles in her feet as she scrambled out of her cross-legged position and into the vacated seat. At that moment, another actress walked into the waiting room and looked around for somewhere to sit. Alice smiled as she watched the girl crouch on the floor, and contentedly flexed her buttocks.
The actress who had been busy with the cell phone appeared to be having an argument of some kind via text. From time to time she shook her head and clicked her tongue in exasperation. Her hair was like celery tops, and her skin looked as though it was once lovely but beginning to weather. It seemed she had reached a point of anger where texting was no longer giving vent to her emotions and she put the phone up by her ear to make a call. Alice looked down at her script pages and listened in.
'Who did they give it to?' she asked. Her voice had that raspy quality that men find so attractive. She paused while the recipient of her phone call supplied her with the information. She spluttered and made rapid hacking noises. 'But she's not even an actress, she's a supermodel for God's sake! Don't these people have enough already? I've met the girl, and her head's so far up her own butt she wouldn't know an emotion if it bit her. Jesus Christ, Stephen told me I virtually had that in the bag. I'm going to call him right now and see if he knows about it.' She hung up abruptly and hit some more buttons on her cell phone.
'Hello?' she said. 'Well, is he? How long is the meeting going to go for because I need to speak to him right away . . . Uh-huh. Have him call me, Serena.' She spat out the word Serena as if the agent's assistant was a life form lower than a slug. Alice snuck a peek. She had hung up again and tugged at her hair as if to wrestle it into a more comely do. Her face had taken on the properties of a thundercloud and Alice looked down immediately to avoid meeting her eye.
The actress's phone rang again and she answered. 'Stephen,' she said. Judging from the time it took for her agent to return her call, she must have been an actress of some repute. 'I can't believe what I just heard. Is it true that Gemma Milosovich has the lead in Distant Mountain?' she paused, crossing and uncrossing her legs. 'Well, when was I going to be informed? Practically had my bags packed . . . uh-huh . . . the girl's eighteen . . . oh, they're going to write out one of her kids. I thought it was pretty central to the plot that the character had three.' She listened for a while and seemed to calm down a bit. 'No, I didn't know they changed directors.' She paused and laughed mirthlessly with disbelief. 'Michael Reisman? Oh God, puh-lease. The guy is a serial modeliser. Enough said. Look, I better go do this beauty pageant thing. Okay, I will. Ciao.' She hung up, and snapped her Motorola shut.
'Jo-Jo?' called a voice from within the annex. The door opened and Molly appeared. 'Jo-Jo,' she said, 'April asked if you could go through.'
Jo-Jo flipped her phone into her expensive hunk of a leather bag and shook her hair like a haughty pony. She has a hell of a lot of confidence, thought Alice, and couldn't help being impressed.
'Okay, great,' she said to Molly unsmilingly. She talked to her as though she were April's assistant and not another actress up for the same part. Jo-Jo sauntered into the audition room and closed the door behind her. Alice heard a loud 'Heeey, girl, long time no see . . .' from within.
'Ohmigod, so busy with pilot season! Hilarious!'
Alice and Molly shared a small smile. 'Good luck,' said Molly.
'Thanks.'
Fifty-five minutes later Jo-Jo exited into the waiting room. She had already opened her Motorola and was saying 'Hilarious,' over and over without smiling. She slammed the door on her way out.
Alice's name was called. She smoothed her hair and stood up, putting her well-thumbed audition pages into her satchel and closing the flap. She stepped forward.
'Alice, hi,' said the casting woman. She seemed flustered and her hair was escaping from her bun. 'Didn't Jo-Jo tell you to come through?'
'Er, no.'
'Oh. Look, sorry to keep you waiting so long. Please come in,' she said, gesturing to the casting room behind her. 'I'm April.'
'Hi, April,' Alice greeted her, setting her bag down by the door. The space was small and rectangular and lined with bookshelves that contained large ring-bound folders. The camera was set up by the one blank white wall. A cross made of gaffer tape had been stuck onto the carpet in front of the camera.
'How old are you, Alice?' April asked, rushing back to camera and holding two fingers in front of the lens. Alice felt thrown off balance.
'Twenty-eight,' she answered, shaving off a year. She knew it was wrong to lie, but this was a film about a beauty pageant. What looks-based competition these days involved women in their late twenties? Perhaps she should have said twenty-seven.
'Uh-huh,' April replied flatly. Her tone gave nothing away. Alice figured that because Sarah Jessica Parker, an actress who was surely rapidly approaching forty, had been cast as the lead, perhaps there was some leniency with the odd wrinkle.
'Could you just stand in front of camera and do a slow 360 degree turn,' April asked. 'You're about five-foot seven-inches, right?'
'Yes, five-foot-seven-and-a-half,' Alice replied, turning on the spot and feeling every inch a fool.
'Okay, now could you just look at camera and hold your hair back, and then do the same for me in profile?'
April's cell phone vibrated on her desk and began to jut along the tabletop like an angry cockroach. She left her position beside camera to grab it. 'Sorry, Alice, one sec, I just have to take this call.'
Alice turned back from her profile position in front of the camera and looked straight ahead. She wasn't sure if the camera was still running and smiled pleasantly just in case.
'That's bullshit, Barry. When did she become unavailable?' April barked. She hadn't bothered to turn away for the call. Alice kept smiling.
'Well, I'll set up the meeting for tomorrow. We may have to lawyer up on this one.' April sighed and hung up. 'Okay,' she said, returning to her position behind the camera and fiddling as if to turn it on. 'Did I ask already for your profile, Alicia?'
'Alice,' Alice corrected her gently, 'and you did ask but I'm not sure whether you got it.'
'Huh?' said April, flicking open her pages to read the off-camera lines. Clearly she was still angry about what had transpired on the phone. Alice wondered if it had something to
do with Jo-Jo. Alice waited for further instructions when April's phone vibrated for the second time. She went over to pick it up.
'Yep,' she snapped. 'Okay, 9 am. Kate Mantilini's. Well, what place doesn't do egg-white omelette? Of course not. I've gotta go,' she said, and hung up. April came back to the camera and attempted a smile. The gesture made her face crooked.
'First scene, then?' said Alice.
'Sure, that's fine,' April nodded.
Alice breathed in through her nostrils and pressed her lips together.
'In your own time,' said April.
Alice took a moment to create the space for herself. She found it hard to focus with all the negative energy in the room.
'We're supposed to sleep in bunk beds, oh my God, how cute,' Alice trilled, looking at both top and bottom imaginary bunk. 'Well, I'll take the bottom, I guess. I'm afraid of heights.'
'Fine with me,' April, as the other beauty-pageant contestant, responded. Her voice was devoid of intonation and perfunctory in the extreme.
'You know,' Alice continued, taking imaginary items out of a suitcase, 'Mom always says I should travel light, but I never seem to be able to do it. I have my teddy bear, Pookie, he comes everywhere with me.' Alice cuddled the creature and kissed the tip of its invisible nose. 'My herbal teabags, of course.' (Alice made sure she pronounced the word 'erbal.) 'I don't do caffeine. It tends to bloat.' Alice patted her hips and shook her head. 'I'm on a wheat-free, lactose-free diet. I bring my own organic rusks and pomegranate juice. Cleanses the digestive system. Three bottles of water too . . . so good for the skin. I wash my hair in it, don't you? Never know what's in the local water supply and I like my hair shiny. And look, here's my tuning fork – gotta sing in tune – my baton and my lasso.' Alice put her hands squarely on her hips and cocked her head proudly. 'Did I tell you I can yodel?'
'No,' said April. Her body was slack and she held her script pages loosely.
'Like me to yodel for you?'
'I'd prefer it if you didn't,' April answered. 'I have a migraine.'
'You know what's great for that? Linseed oil!' Alice exclaimed, strutting round the space. 'You gotta inhale it. Um, I need to do my pilates so could you please move your stuff?'
'There's no room to do pilates in here,' countered April, playing the Sarah Jessica Parker role. 'You'll have to do it somewhere else.'
'I feel terrible if I don't exercise. Where else am I expected to do this?'
'I don't care, Laurel, just don't do it here.'
'Do you hear that noise? Oh my God! That's the fire alarm. Do you think we should evacuate?'
'I definitely think that you should evacuate, Laurel. I'll be right behind you,' said April. 'And cut.'
Alice remained in her position and waited for April to speak. April was looking down at the pages of her script. Her brow was creased and she fidgeted with her fly-away hairs.
'Would you like the other scene?' asked Alice, finally.
'One scene is fine, Alice,' said April. 'Didn't they say? One or the other.' She smiled her crooked smile for the second time.
'No, they didn't, but sure, okay, fine.' Alice smiled back and did a silly bow. She was secretly pleased she wouldn't have to pretend to spin a baton, but knew if she'd been the one, she would have been asked to perform the other scene. Jo-Jo had definitely been in the room for a longer period than her.
'Thank you, April, nice to meet you,' Alice said as she collected her bag and headed for the door.
'You too, sweetie, can you send the next one in?' April asked. She was now behind her desk and making another call.
'Sure.' Alice remembered the girl who had come in after her looking around for a seat, and she walked out into the waiting room.
'Um, excuse me,' she said, to the blonde who had snagged a seat in the interim and was sitting with her eyes closed doing some kind of meditation. There were an additional six girls in the room, many of them sitting on the floor. 'She's ready for you.' The girl didn't respond and Alice leaned forward to tap her gently on the shoulder. 'I said . . .'
The girl jumped and opened her eyes. They were clear green like peeled grapes. 'Thank you,' she said, and gathered her belongings. 'God, you were quick,' she remarked.
'I was,' said Alice coldly, and stepped out into the corridor. Maybe I was just that good. Ever think of that?
A pigeon was sheltering outside on the black rim of the window closest to the lift. Pigeons were disease-ridden and revolting and on occasion made her dry-retch. Alice shuddered involuntarily and checked her watch. It was after four. Time to go home and check her emails. Alice could feel her adrenalin seeping away now that her obligations were out of the way. She suddenly felt exhausted. Her eyeballs felt hot and scratchy while the tip of her nose was cold; it was as if her internal heating and cooling mechanisms were out of whack. She stabbed at the lift button and was glad to step out of it at ground level, which they seemed to call the first floor. She desperately wanted to lie down.
Alice was surprised by the chill in the air as she headed back to her car. LA was not a town you thought of as being anything but summery. The sky was overcast and large grey buildings stood silent all around her. Once again, she had the feeling she was the only pedestrian for miles. She hurried to the side street.
Alice got into her car and slumped over the wheel. She decided not to hurry home but to take a drive down South Robertson to Beverly Boulevard instead. The Beverly Centre shopping mall loomed invitingly and Alice impulsively turned into the carpark. As she parked the car three levels above the street, she reminded herself not to pull out the credit card, however tempting the delights of the vast mall. Her credit card, she reminded herself, must be regarded as a highly toxic piece of plastic and possibly molten to the touch.
Alice entered the mall through monumental automatic doors. The first store to catch her eye was Victoria's Secret, quickly followed by See's Candies, purveyor of insanely delicious chocolates. Both stores cancelled each other out in Alice's mind; eat enough See's Candies and you wouldn't be able to squeeze into Victoria's Secret lingerie. She wandered slowly past a number of deserted top-end boutiques. Retail assistants stood bored by their cash registers or were folding and re-folding garments for display. Gap and Banana Republic were doing swifter trade than the smaller boutiques. Alice came to Bed Bath And Beyond and felt homesick and depressed, with no bed or bath to call her own. Her homemaker instincts combined with lack of income and no fixed address made it seem futile even to browse. Alice felt that in LA, everything desirable was out of her reach. Without money or employment, she was just a nobody in a long line of nobodies.
After twenty minutes of browsing, Alice came to a pet shop. It seemed out of place in a mall filled with designer clothes and department stores. Rows and rows of perspex containers housed tiny puppies. Some slept, some burrowed in shredded paper and some lay snoozing, their fur smooshed up against the side of their temporary home. Pet shops were politically incorrect, Alice believed. She knew it made much more sense to acquire some deserving pet from a shelter. Still, she felt irrevocably drawn toward the tiny creatures. They seemed to be quivering with hope.
'Oh!' she cried, spying a black-and-white puppy with a flat snout. Its legs were like paperclips. The puppy's bark sounded thin, like tiny coughs emitted through a snorkel. Its jaw looked as though it would dislocate with each successive emission. Alice leaned forward and smiled.
'Hello there, sweetheart,' she cooed softly. The sign on the animal's container read Boston Terrier. Alice wondered whether she had ever seen a cuter puppy. It stopped barking and regarded Alice, even though its eyes were so young that it seemed to be having trouble focusing.
'Gorgeous, isn't she?' said a voice from behind.
Alice straightened and looked around. A young shop assistant gestured toward the Boston Terrier.
'So beautiful,' Alice agreed. 'I've never seen one before. You don't really see them in Sydney, I guess. I suppose they're all in Boston or something.'
The shop assistant looked puzzled. 'Huh?'
'Nothing,' said Alice. 'Could I hold her?' she blurted.
'Sure.' The assistant took a tiny key from around her neck to unlock the perspex panel. Alice looked around. There was no one else in the store. The mall itself was pretty deserted. Alice felt guilty of time-wasting considering she was in no position to buy. The assistant scooped up the puppy and handed over the wriggling bundle.
Alice held the dog gingerly, marvelling at its tiny features. Its claws were miniscule, feet pads squashy and eyes like pools of chocolate. The puppy seemed to nuzzle into Alice and she felt a rush of tenderness. Its ears stood upright. Combined with the flat snout, the dog resembled a friendly bat.
'You're too cute for words,' she murmured. The shop assistant backed away and Alice felt like a prisoner's wife with a brief window of visitation at the county jail. A desire to hold and be held flooded through her and she wondered how long it had been since she'd last seen Conrad. The dog yapped and she was suddenly aware she was squeezing it too tightly. Alice loosened her grip and stroked the puppy's soft head with two fingers. The assistant re-appeared by her elbow and gave a time's up gesture.
'How much are Boston Terriers?' asked Alice.
'They are . . .' she paused, as if trying to remember the exact figure. 'One thousand five hundred dollars. She's had all her vaccinations and has also been micro-chipped. She's yours for the asking.'
