Stranded

by Andrew Grey

  Juan shrugged. “I don’t really know. Every director does things their own way, but my guess would be no.”

  “Wonderful,” Kendall muttered, resisting the urge to fan himself, sweat breaking out on his skin. It was hot already, and from the strength of the sun, it was going to get even hotter. The others looked up from their conversation, and Kendall walked over.

  “Excellent,” Lyman said as Kendall approached. “We have the necessities in the back.” Lyman handed the map to the other man who folded it. “Kendall, this is Guy, he’ll be our chief cinematographer. Guy Reynolds, this is our lead, Kendall Monroe.”

  They shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you,” Guy said and then turned to the director. He seemed to have the same question Kendall had.

  “This is going to be a very involved role,” Lyman said to both of them. “The desolate landscape and harsh conditions will play almost as big a part in the movie as the characters, so I want Kendall to really experience it before we start shooting.” That seemed to satisfy Guy, and they all headed for the vehicle. “We’ll be back here about seven,” Lyman told Juan, who nodded and headed back toward the comfort of the air-conditioned limousine. Kendall walked toward the SUV and climbed in the backseat. The others got in as well, and soon they were barreling down the highway.

  “We’ve already had people scouting these locations, and Guy has seen most of them,” Lyman said as they rode. Kendall noticed the director’s accent seemed to come and go, and he wondered how much of it was an affectation.

  “So you need to see them and make a final decision,” Kendall supplied.

  “Exactly. Guy’s narrowed down the list to five places. We'll see three of them today. The other two are farther away and would be more costly to use. So if we don’t see anything right today, Guy and I will wrap this up tomorrow.”

  “Aren’t you leaving this a bit late?” Kendall asked.

  Lyman sighed. “Everything on this film seems a bit late. But once the money got approved and the checks written, we needed to move. So today and tomorrow we check out the locations. Then we’ll make final preparations, and next week we’ll start the studio work while the road teams get everything ready at the location.”

  Kendall nodded and sat back, listening as the two men talked about the kinds of shots they’d need and the feeling they wanted for each one. He tried to pay attention, but couldn’t follow a lot of what they said, so he stared out the window. After five minutes, the scene outside the window held no further interest. He pulled out his phone and was surprised to see he still had service. He dialed Johnny’s number, but the call went to voice mail, so he left a message. “Hi, it’s me. I just wanted to talk to you. I’ll be scouting locations today and I don’t know how long we’ll be in cell range. I hope the writing is going well. I miss you.” Kendall added the last part quickly and then ended the call. The conversation up front hadn’t stopped, and since they weren’t paying any attention to him, Kendall settled back on the seat. His thoughts instantly turned to Johnny, a younger Johnny…. He and Johnny had met at a friend’s holiday party. Kendall closed his eyes, and he could see Johnny as he walked in, the embodiment of the poor college student.

  JOHNNY had worn his best clothes to the party, but they’d definitely seen better days. The party had started in the afternoon and would probably go well into the wee hours of the morning, but Kendall had a show to do in a few hours, so he drank Diet Coke and talked to people. Kendall saw Johnny as soon as he walked into the room. Tall, with a shock of blond hair that seemed to go everywhere at once, bedhead before bedhead was fashionable. He appeared lost and out of sorts as he moved through the other people, not making eye contact with anyone, and he would have passed Kendall if he hadn’t accidently on purpose stepped in his way. What Kendall hadn’t been planning on was Johnny knocking him onto his butt.

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry,” Johnny had said, taking Kendall’s hand to help him to his feet.

  “It was my fault,” Kendall said honestly as their hostess quickly mopped up. Thankfully, his glass had been nearly empty. “I’m sorry,” he said to June as she finished up.

  “No problem, sweetheart,” she said. June called everyone “sweetheart” or “darling” in the cutest Hungarian accent. God, he loved the diversity of this city. “Johnny, you made it,” she said, throwing her arms around the shocked man. Kendall would find out later that Johnny’s family hadn’t been demonstrative in any way and those kinds of displays had always shocked him. Sometimes they still did.

  KENDALL smiled as he rode in the SUV, but didn’t open his eyes.

  “HAVE you met Kendall?” June asked with a naughty giggle. “He’s a real sweetheart and is currently on Broadway in some show I can never remember, but he’s brilliant.” She smiled at both of them and hurried off.

  “So you’re brilliant, huh,” Johnny said and smiled a smile Kendall would remember always.

  “If she says so,” Kendall replied. “I don’t think she’s ever actually seen the show. But take it from me—I’m brilliant.” He added the last part in June’s accent, and Johnny nearly snorted his drink out his nose.

  “You’re not supposed to be funny when I’m drinking,” Johnny told him, and Kendall grabbed a napkin and wiped Johnny’s shirt. He even wiped spots that weren’t there, and by Johnny’s chuckle he knew it too. “Tell me about this show of yours,” Johnny said as he threw the damp napkins in the trash. Kendall regaled Johnny with stories about the show and his part in it. Then Johnny told him all about his graduate work in history, specifically the Renaissance, which moved them into a discussion of art, something they both loved.

  Before Kendall knew it, the afternoon was nearly gone. He set down his glass. “I have to go right now,” Kendall said in a bit of a panic, “or I’m going to be late.” He said good-bye to Johnny and June before hurrying out of the apartment and down the stairs.

  “Kendall,” Johnny called from the stairs as he hurried down, stumbling and catching himself as he reached the landing. “Can I call you?” he asked nervously.

  Kendall pulled out his wallet and got out one of his cards, fishing in his coat pocket for a pen. He wrote his home number on the back and handed it to Johnny. “I think that would be very nice,” Kendall said and then reluctantly raced out into the cold. He nearly tripped on the sidewalk as he ran to the subway. He made it to the theater just in time. After the show, he stripped off his makeup and changed his clothes before leaving via the stage door and heading out into the night. As he passed in front of the theater, he saw Johnny buried in his coat, collar turned up, gangly legs carrying him closer.

  “What are you doing here?” Kendall asked, a bit startled.

  “June told me what time you got out and where to meet you. I hoped I could walk you home, if that was all right,” Johnny offered, and for the second time that day, Kendall saw the bright, hopeful smile that reached all the way to Johnny’s eyes.

  “That would be….” Kendall was a touch speechless. “… wonderful.” Johnny caught up to him, and they walked side by side beneath the flashing marquee lights. Along the way they stopped for hot chocolate, and when Kendall reached the doorstep of his building, Johnny leaned forward, and they shared a gentle, chocolate-flavored kiss. “Are you okay to get home?” Kendall asked as the snow, which had been coming down lightly all evening, got thicker.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just a few blocks,” Johnny said as he pulled up his collar once more, then shoved his hands into his pockets. Kendall watched as Johnny quickly moved away, the snow falling harder and harder, quickly swallowing him up.

  THE SUV began to bounce, and Kendall opened his eyes to the sun’s harsh glare off the desert. He opened his sunglasses case and put them on.

  “We’re almost at the first location,” Guy said and then turned off the main road, traveled a short way, and stopped. “This is federal land, but we have permission to shoot here if we want,” Guy said and then opened his door. Blast-furnace heat blew into the vehicle, and Kendall
had to remind himself to breathe.

  “There are golf umbrellas in the back,” Lyman told Kendall as he stepped out of the backseat. “The sun is brutal, and I don’t want you sunburned. It’ll ruin our early shots.”

  “Gee, and I thought you were turning into a humanitarian,” Kendall quipped, and Lyman gawked at him while Guy began to laugh.

  “Come on, you have to admit that was good,” Guy told the director. Kendall didn’t see Lyman’s reaction as he pulled up the back liftgate and took out three golf umbrellas, then handed them out. Kendall put his up and was immediately relieved of the heat from the intense sun beating on him. “This location is great from a cinematic point of view,” Guy said. “There’s that scene when Kendall here realizes he’s truly all alone. He’s in the car looking out, and when we pan the camera high into the air the car gets smaller and smaller as the land gets bigger. We’d actually put the car about a half mile over there and we’d need to shoot that angle before the ground is disturbed. We could use the air from the chopper blades to simulate the wind blowing away the tire tracks and erasing the signs of his passage.”

  “I think that could work. And for the close-up shots, there would be a lot of room to maneuver,” Lyman said and turned to him. “What do you think?”

  Kendall pulled himself out of the initial throes of fear that threatened to grip him at the thought of being enclosed in the car for that scene. It’s only a car, he told himself; he’d been in plenty of those with no problem. “I’ve never made a movie before, but I don’t feel it,” Kendall said, and both of the other men rolled their eyes. “It’s too open,” Kendall said, ignoring the stares. “You can see for miles in every direction here. A car or anything out of the ordinary would stand out like a sore thumb because there’s nothing else. The script says he spends almost four days in the car, but here it would be too easy to spot, especially from the air. There should be camouflage, something to disguise the shape of the car.” Kendall figured they had probably expected him not to have an opinion, but Lyman had asked, so he offered.

  Guy seemed impressed and nodded slowly, but Lyman humphed and headed back to the SUV. He climbed in and shut the door without another word. Guy shrugged and opened the rear hatch, then grabbed a cooler from the back. They collapsed their umbrellas and placed them inside. Kendall added Lyman’s, which he’d leaned against the side of the vehicle, and Guy closed the liftgate.

  Kendall opened the door and climbed into the backseat. “I guess someone never learned to put their toys away when they’re done,” Kendall said to Guy as he placed the cooler on the seat next to him. Kendall saw that Guy was trying not to laugh as he closed the door. Kendall wasn’t about to pick up after Lyman again. He opened the cooler and passed out cold bottles of water to everyone. Guy retraced their path back to the main road, and they continued on.

  “What’s in there to eat?” Lyman asked after a few minutes, and Kendall opened the cooler again. He’d expected sandwiches, not plastic containers of tapenade, brie, and assorted cheeses, as well as regular and red pepper hummus. Kendall peered over the backseat and found a bag of biscotti, brioche, baguettes, pita quarters, and a loaf of french bread. He handed Lyman what he wanted and did the same for Guy before tearing into the olive tapenade with a vengeance.

  “The next location,” Guy began after he swallowed, “has a more rugged terrain, but it’s going to be harder to film because of the obstacles. It could work, but it’ll have its challenges.”

  They rode and ate in near silence for almost an hour, with Kendall handling the food, until Guy once again turned off the road and wound through a few miles of rough road before pulling to a stop at the bottom of a dry canyon about twenty feet deep. They got out of the SUV and stood in its shade, looking out over the monochromatic landscape.

  “Is this hilly enough for you?” Lyman asked sarcastically.

  “Actually it’s pretty cool, but would you film down here? You could never do that wide shot you were hoping for. It’s too restrictive,” Kendall said to Guy.

  “The color is great, though,” Lyman said as he looked up at the canyon walls. “The hard thing about desert filming is that everything is so monochrome. This would allow us to break that up.” Lyman looked at both of them. “But filming would be a royal pain in the ass,” he pronounced. “And the light would suck for most of the day.”

  “So I take it this one is a no,” Guy said.

  “Afraid so,” Lyman admitted, and they headed back to the vehicle, then once again stashed the umbrellas in the back. Kendall noticed that this time Lyman took care of his own. Once in the vehicle, they all drank more water. Kendall couldn’t believe how thirsty he was after being out in the desert for only half an hour. The air seemed to suck all the moisture out of him.

  “The next site isn’t far, only twenty minutes or so,” Guy explained as he carefully backed the vehicle out of the canyon and wound his way back to the main road. “We’re just about to cross into Nevada,” Guy explained. A small sign a few miles later was the only indication that they’d changed states. Just across the border, Guy turned south, and they rode for a ways until Guy turned off onto an even smaller road. “How did you ever find this place?” Kendall asked as he peered out the window.

  “We started with topographical maps, and the scouts work with local people to try to find potential spots. It’s a real art that they’re amazing at,” Lyman answered just before the vehicle pulled to a stop. Kendall got out and popped the liftgate, grabbed a golf umbrella, and headed away from the SUV. There were hills, but not too high, and what looked like plenty of room to move. He could see Guy being able to do the shot he’d talked about earlier because, from the air, the hills would even out, but up close, they’d provide a place where the car could be hidden.

  “Well?” Kendall asked Guy, who had a smile on his face. Even Lyman seemed happy.

  “I take it you agree?” the director asked him.

  “This feels right,” both Kendall and the cinematographer said at the same time.

  “It’s federal land and not restricted, so we have permission as long as we return the land to the state we found it,” Guy said as he consulted his notes. Kendall wandered around one of the small hills and was surprised at how he instantly felt alone. He couldn’t see or hear anything but the desert and the wind. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared. This was the feeling the script was trying to convey. At least he thought so. Kendall walked a bit, figuring he’d just go around the hill, but he didn’t see the SUV, and the desert went on and on. Wondering if he’d turned when he shouldn’t, he did an about-face and followed his footprints, thankful the air was still.

  “There you are,” Lyman said with a bit of exasperation.

  “We were afraid we were going to lose you,” Guy said.

  “Nope, but behind that hill might be what you’re looking for,” Kendall said, and Guy tramped off, returning ten minutes later with a grin on his face. “Did I lie?” Kendall asked.

  “No,” Guy said. “It’s perfect. It’s between two hills, but wide enough for all the equipment and cameras. The hills even dampen the outside sound somehow. It’s super quiet.” Lyman didn’t appear to buy it. “Go take a look for yourself, but be sure to turn around and come back the way you came. The valley seems to lead off somewhere and doesn’t bring you back like you think it will.”

  Lyman walked off, and Kendall turned to Guy. “How long have you known him?”

  “We’ve worked together before. He’s not a bad guy, just a colossal pain in the ass when he thinks he’s right, even when he’s not,” Guy said. “But you seem to have his number.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Kendall said.

  “Sure you do. Think of him as a kid who’s used to always getting his own way and always needs to test the boundaries. He’ll push and push until you push back. It’s part of what makes him a good director, but also what makes him a bastard, because he’s always pushing for something and he doesn’t know what it is som
etimes.”

  “I’ve worked with people like that before,” Kendall said as he saw Lyman making his way back. “The last one we sent sailing off the stage and into the orchestra pit,” Kendall said, keeping a straight face. “It was a beautiful, perfect arc until he crumpled like a rag doll.” Kendall turned and headed back toward the SUV.

  “You’re full of shit,” Guy called.

  “Maybe,” Kendall said, making a smooth sailing motion with his hand, and Guy began laughing again.

  Kendall got back in the SUV, leaving the door open while the other two huddled beneath their golf umbrellas talking earnestly as they swept their arms over the landscape. He could make out their tones and some of their words, but not enough to follow the conversation, though that really didn’t matter. They had their work to do, and in his mind Kendall began building the character for the movie. After a good ten minutes of talking and gesturing, the others returned to the SUV, and after stowing everything, they climbed inside. Guy turned the key, and the SUV started and then immediately died. He tried again, and the vehicle did the same thing.

  Heat was already building up in the interior, and Kendall closed his eyes and prayed for the stupid engine to start. It didn’t. Guy got out, walked around to the front, and lifted the hood. Kendall opened the door on the shady side to let some of the heat out. Then he opened the cooler, thankful there was plenty of water. He took one and handed another to Lyman. “Fucking piece of crap,” Kendall heard Guy swear from outside. Then he stomped to the back and lifted the gate. “Thank God I keep tools with me,” Guy mumbled, and Kendall heard the rattle of a toolbox.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Kendall asked as he looked over the backseat.

  “No,” Guy said as he hefted the toolbox out of the back before walking around to the front again. Kendall turned to Lyman, who shrugged and huffed softly.

  “He should have it fixed pretty quick,” Lyman said. Kendall wanted to believe that, but he wasn’t feeling hopeful. After a few minutes of banging and a bit more swearing, Kendall grabbed a bottle of water and wandered around to the front.