Heartland

by Davis Bunn

  “There are a lot of them. Numbers, I mean. What with the move to feature.”

  “You’re telling me they want to pay me more?”

  This time Kelly laughed out loud.

  “You know what? I don’t even want you to tell me.”

  “You’ve got to know, JayJay.” This from Kelly.

  “I’m not dancing that tune just so y’all can laugh at me again.”

  “Tell him,” Kelly said to Ahn.

  “Who’s giving the orders round here?”

  “Go on,” Kelly said.

  Ahn said, “Your role in the feature is going to bring in somewhere in the neighborhood of two point three million dollars.”

  Kelly slugged his shoulder. “That’s a mighty good neighborhood to be in, Slim.”

  He staggered away.

  JayJay spent the next three days just walking through the routine. Trodding a path from one action to the next. Breakfast. Prayer group. Limo to the site. He waited by the corral between shoots. When the day grew too hot he moved into the shadow of the barn. He avoided the cabin, which was nothing but a hollow shell filled with generators and Britt’s on-site office and a growing mass of equipment. He never set foot in his trailer except to change clothes or have the makeup folks work on him. When people spoke to him he responded. Ten seconds after they walked away, he couldn’t recall what he’d heard or said. Dinner. Bed. Kelly gave him worried glances, but stopped asking if he was all right when he gave her the same response every time. Fine. He was fine. Nobody died from being faced with impossible facts, or being hollowed by questions that had no answers.

  They brought in a couple of extra horses for scenes Peter was writing. The wrangler was a young Latina named Felicita, who spoke little English but dearly loved the horses. She grew used to JayJay leaning against the fence or the barn, saying nothing and seeing less.

  On the afternoon of the fourth day JayJay was at his accustomed spot, hidden away from the growing tumult around the ranch. The number of actors had doubled, those behind the camera tripled. He was done with his scenes for the day. He had no reason to remain except that the hotel offered less respite than the barn’s shadows. At least here he had hills and a horizon to pretend to watch.

  He had no idea how long he had stood there. Long enough for his legs to stiffen. Until a voice carried through the dust storm in his head.

  It took JayJay a long moment to recognize the pastor of Ahn’s church. “What on earth are you doing up here?”

  Floyd Cummins had a grip as weathered and sturdy as his features. “I’m headed to a pastors’ conference in Fresno. Thought I’d stop by and see how things are going.”

  JayJay turned back to the railings. “I wish I knew.”

  The pastor sidled up to the fence. “Ahn told me how you got spooked by the thought of all that money they’re tossing your way.”

  “I asked him not to even tell me. Still wish I didn’t know.”

  “I don’t suppose I need to ask what you thought of that Hollywood agent he drove up with.”

  JayJay bent down, grabbed a fistful of pebbles, and began tossing them at the dust.

  “Ahn seems to think that if you decide to hang around, you’ll probably need somebody like that agent in your corner.”

  “Won’t happen.”

  “What if—and I’m not saying it will happen, mind you—but what if you get done with this work here, get all ready to ride off into your own little sunset, and then you learn God isn’t done with you yet?”

  “There you go again.” JayJay tossed another rock. “Every time I say something you don’t like, you hit me with the God thing.”

  “Some folks wouldn’t call being made famous and rich such a hard life.”

  “Yeah, well, they can have it. I’d give it all just . . .”

  “Just what, JayJay? To go back to how it was before?”

  He let the remaining pebbles fall to the earth by his feet. Locked and helpless, staring into lengthening shadows, washed by the afternoon sun.

  “In the time it took me to park my car and ask where to find you, a half dozen people told me about the prayer group you’ve started.”

  “It was Kelly’s idea.”

  “But you’re the one who made it happen. Nobody can ever remember such a thing before, JayJay.” He moved in closer. “You recall our conversation after church?”

  He replied softly, “I can’t get it out of my head.”

  “You told me you didn’t have any business being here. And I told you, it’s the same miracle each one of us faces when God breathes life into dust, and then allows us to rise and face a new dawn.” Floyd Cummins stepped into JayJay’s frame of vision. “So God has granted you a miracle. And somewhere down deep, you’re expecting everything else to just be clear as day. Every answer laid out in fiery script.”

  JayJay opened his mouth to object. But the words did not come.

  “Some lessons are so powerful the Scriptures repeat them time after time. God performs one vital miracle. And then what happens? He backs off. Now why on earth do you reckon He’d do such a thing?” Floyd Cummins took a half step closer. “So that you the believer remain a vital part of the process. So that you remain in charge of deciding. Think on that, JayJay. The most subtle gift the Master of creation has granted us is the power of free will. We can choose to ignore His miracles and His subtle ways. We can pretend that we are masters of all we survey, and that there is no such thing as an all-powerful God. Why? Because He lets us. It is His gift. We are not slaves. We are free men.”

  The descending sun burnished the pastor’s face, making it glow like the fire was there inside his skin, and not merely a reflection of power from above. “So God has performed this one miracle and brought you to Hollywood. Now the question is, what do you do with this miracle? Are you going to let life defeat you? Will the doubts and the problems and all the traumas that come along with free will crush you back into the dust from which you came? Because it may very well do that, unless you accept the responsibility of your miracle.”

  A breath of wind lifted a man-size bundle of earth and spun it aloft. The red soil danced and weaved in the sun, golden and russet and flaxen in turns. Then the wind vanished and the dust fell, leaving only heat.

  “You the believer are a vital part of the process. No miracle will ever change this. God acts in our midst all the time. But He is not called to explain. Nor does He intend to supply you with all the answers. Instead, we are called to draw close to Him. Walk through the open door, seek His will, and serve Him to the best of our ability.” Floyd Cummins gripped his shoulder. “Remember, wherever you are, whatever situation you face, the critical issue confronting each and every one of us is the same. Choose life.”

  JayJay walked the pastor to his car and returned to his station by the corral. Skye moved up to the other side of the fence, snorting and pawing the ground with her left foreleg. Tossing her silver-gray mane. Saying in everything but human speech that it was time.

  JayJay entered the barn. “Felicita, could I have a blanket and saddle?”

  She might not have understood his words, but she saw the direction he was pointing. Her smile flashed wide enough to push aside the shadows. “Sí, señor.”

  “No, not that silver rig. A working saddle. Yeah, that old thing will do me just fine. And I know for a fact Skye don’t care.” He had to grin. When he finally decided to have a conversation, it was with a lady who didn’t speak English. “Thank you.”

  “De nada.”

  Skye was feeling her oats enough to be ready to vault the fence before JayJay was set in the saddle. He reined the horse in and cantered easy in a tight circle, seeing the other horses clearly for the first time. There was a fine pair of fillies, two years old, three at the most, light enough on their feet to float across the paddock. And two geldings with the stolid calm of gentle rides. Felicita opened the corral door, used her hat to wave the other horses back, and smiled him out. A pair of gaffers he recognized from the p
rayer group waved as he passed. Britt stood in the cabin doorway and called something. This time JayJay intentionally chose not to hear.

  His normal route, the one from his bygone era, would have taken him past the spring and along the trail shaded by cottonwood trees. But JayJay tugged the reins and directed Skye through the western meadow and off the ranch. Skye jittered sideways in her eagerness to push out of the easy trot. Halfway across the meadow JayJay eased his grip and touched Skye’s ribs with his knees. Once was enough. The horse snorted and grew wings.

  JayJay leaned down low to the horse, one hand resting where the mane met the neck. Skye reached out farther still, the hooves eating up the earth. They flew over the western fence and entered the first slopes. JayJay directed Skye onto a rutted track leading up through the almond trees. The flowers were gone now, the crop just beginning to ripen. Skye hammered up the slope, snorting and digging hard as the rise grew steeper.

  When they reached the first plateau JayJay pulled back on the reins. Skye did not give in willingly. But JayJay just tugged the harder, easing his horse into a gentle canter. The trail jinked and headed along the edge. JayJay looked down the slope, back to the ranch. The creek was a golden ribbon carved from the valley floor. On the ranch’s other side, low-slung hills bordered the road leading to the highway. The town was a mile or so off, the higher rooftops gleaming in the late sun.

  A crowd of roadies and newly arrived bit actors cheered him, the sound rising easy in the still afternoon air. JayJay did the showboat thing, lifting Skye into a two-footed dance and waving his hat. The cheers grew louder. Felicita stood on the corral fence and waved back. Britt stood in the cabin doorway and watched, the only person not making noise. JayJay dropped the horse to all fours and turned away from the ranch and all the mysteries.

  He rode until the high peaks took a final bite from the sun, until the growing dark made the going tricky and the starlings overhead carved tight edges from a deepening sky. He took another trail down to the main road, preferring asphalt to an unknown descent laced in shadows. When he returned to the barn he waved Felicita aside, pulled off the saddle and blanket, filled a meal bag with oats, and set to currying his horse.

  By the time he led Skye back to the corral the night was in full control. Behind the cabin, workers toiled under floodlights and the instruction of the chief set designer. The lights in Britt’s office, where the kitchen should have been, were still on. But not even that could disturb JayJay’s evening. He turned away from the cabin and spent a long time studying the sweep of stars and velvet hills. Finally Skye walked over and nudged his arm draped upon the fence. JayJay stroked the horse’s forehead and said, “I reckon I’ve sulked long enough.”

  The horse snorted quietly. JayJay scratched her between her ears, then stepped back and said to the night at large, “It’s time I got on with this craziness called life.”

  Chapter 30

  JayJay woke up knowing something was supposed to happen. But he had so removed himself during the previous few days he couldn’t remember what it was until Peter came over while he was standing in the breakfast line and said, “I can’t thank you enough. This means more than I can say.”

  “Cynthia says to be sure and tell you . . .” Peter stopped as Kelly stalked over.

  The lady revealed a full head of steam. “I ask you a dozen times to take me riding, and then you take off after I’ve left for the day? What is this, Slim, a cowboy’s brush-off?”

  JayJay noticed Peter had backed off a pace. “I just needed a little time alone, is all.”

  She crossed her arms. “That’s your idea of an excuse?”

  “Honest, Kelly. We can go today if you like.”

  “That depends.” She spun on her boot and tossed over her shoulder, “On whether you’re over whatever it is that’s had you about as interesting as the Mojave in July.”

  When Peter moved back over, JayJay observed, “That lady walks better angry than most do trying for cute.”

  “I couldn’t say,” Peter said. “Being extremely married and all.”

  Kelly didn’t exactly put the Grand Canyon between them at the prayer group. But only because the side wall got in the way of her scooting any farther off. From her position by the window, she gave the day’s reading in something approaching a huff. “Deuteronomy, chapter thirty-one, verse eight reads, ‘The Lord himself will lead you and be with you. He will not fail you or abandon you, so do not lose courage or be afraid.’ ”

  Instead of asking for prayer requests, JayJay decided there would never be a better time than now to make what amends he could. “That passage pretty much says it all, far as where I’m at today. Kelly, would you mind reading that again?”

  She gave him a sideways look full of suspicion, but did so. When she’d finished, JayJay went on, “I’ve been carrying around a load of questions, so crazy I’ve been afraid to speak them out loud. I still am. And I’ve been in a serious funk on account of how God hasn’t answered when I’ve asked what’s going on. Deep down, I guess I was thinking that if I sulked long enough, He’d decide I deserved an explanation.”

  There were nineteen of them gathered. About what they had settled down to most mornings. Only Derek was missing from the regular crew. A few of the curious kept coming, and a couple of the new faces around the set had joined in. JayJay could always recognize the newbies from their expressions of disbelief. He could see them now, painted with the soft glow of a rising sun, listening to this guy they called a star bare his soul.

  “I’ve never been one for talking. Not much on thinking about myself either, for that matter. I always figured I had a cowboy’s attitude toward life. Walk a straight and steady line, do what’s right, and if evil’s got the sense to slither away from you, no need in wasting a bullet. But if you got to shoot, aim straight and hit hard.”

  He knew he wasn’t making a lot of sense. And to tell the truth, he didn’t much care. Another night of sitting by the window had cleared up his heart. If his head couldn’t find the proper words, tough.

  “I’ve studied the Scriptures some. Not as much as I should, I’ll be the first to admit that. But enough to know there ain’t no place in the Holy Book that says God is gonna explain what He’s got in mind. No sir. What it says is what Kelly just read. Believe in God. Seek His strength. And He will see you through whatever it is you’re facing. What’s more, He’ll turn the mess into something for good. His good, His will. That’s what Jesus told us to pray for, right? That the Father’s will be done.”

  The bearded grips, the two giants who had not missed a day and were now seated on the floor by Kelly’s chair, were nodding in unison. One intoned, “Say it, brother.”

  “The other day, when Derek started talking about them gamma things and I didn’t understand a word, was I bothered? Not a bit. Why? Because I trust him. And what I haven’t been doing is trusting God. So this morning I’m not asking for you to pray so I’ll get answers. I’m done asking for that. I’m asking for just enough strength and wisdom to get the job done.”

  Kelly was the first out the door. JayJay was in the process of following, until his way was blocked by Kip, wearing his trademark chartreuse and smirk. “Britt wants to see you.”

  “In a minute. I just—”

  “JayJay, Britt wants to see you now.” He pointed at Peter. “You too.”

  Britt’s suite was on the ground floor and across the interior courtyard. His living room was increasingly taken over by equipment and cables. Kip pushed through the open door and said, “They’re here.”

  “Good. You two, have a seat. No, over there on the sofa.” Britt and Derek were working at what had formerly been the dining table, fiddling with a computer connected to a massive tape machine. Not even the darkened room could mask the exhaustion evident on both their faces. The computer screen was split in two, showing the same image but from different angles. At the bottom of both ran a counter split into hundredths of seconds. Britt watched for a while longer, then said, “Looks li
ke you were right.”

  “I can beef the background more if you want.”

  “No, this is solid.” Britt rose to his feet. “We’re good to go.”

  Derek seemed to glow. “Thanks, Britt. A lot.”

  “Come over and run the tape, will you?” Britt pulled over a high-backed chair. He said to JayJay, “I’m breaking every rule in the director’s book here. But I want you to see something. Okay, Derek. Roll it.”

  The monitor was a massive flat screen connected to a vast array of equipment. JayJay instantly recognized the scene from two days back, the morning they moved from rehearsals to filming. He and Kelly had been standing outside the barn with Skye between them. The shy cowboy using the horse to shield himself from the forward-thinking city lady. About a minute and a half of dialogue. Eleven takes. Half a day’s work. The colors were brilliant, the scene as vivid and beautiful as modern technology could render. The only problem was the cowboy. They might as well have dressed up a corpse.

  When it was done, Britt asked, “You want to see it a second time?”

  “No.” JayJay felt a flush crawl from his collar and rise to his scalp. “Don’t make me watch it over again.”

  “Tell me what you just saw.”

  JayJay could see his reflection in the blank screen. “All I needed was a headdress and a fistful of cigars and you could prop me outside a tobacco shop.”

  “The morning we talked about switching to feature, I asked you to give me the best you had. What I need to know is, are you delivering?”

  JayJay rubbed his forehead. There could be no clearer conviction. “I’ve been letting problems get in the way of my work.”

  “That is not what I asked you.” Britt pointed at the monitor. “Tell me this is all we’ve got to work with, and Peter here will write your role down to as few lines as possible. We’ve all had experience dealing with an actor who can’t deliver.”

  The flat way Britt spoke drove the guilty verdict even deeper. “I can do better.”