by Heidi Ayarbe
“Actually three hundred and sixty-five point two-five days, Kyle,” Chase corrected me.
Kohana smiled. He and Chase got along really well. I thought Chase would feel bad that I had a friend, but one day he’d said, “It’s just too bad Jason wasn’t friends with Kohana, too. He’s really nice.”
“Are you ready to film?” Kohana asked.
I took a deep breath. We’d already filmed Jason’s duffel and sleeping bag. We created a movie poster/comic art montage with all of Jason’s favorite comic-book artists, including Kyle Baker and Frank Miller. We had footage from old home movies that Chase had snuck out of the house: birthdays, Christmases, Little League and stuff. Chase had found the WXYZ volume of the encyclopedia in Jason’s room, and we filmed that. Kohana convinced me to open up the papers and film them. Funny. Jase and I had written the same thing:
Kyle: Ten years from now, I’ll be hanging out with Jase.
Jason: Ten years from now, I’ll be hanging out with Kyle on his birthday. (Hopefully in a bar with really hot women).
My hands shook so bad, I couldn’t keep the camera in focus. That day we didn’t film any more. I think it made us all sad.
We had even filmed Chase and his kites—running up and down the path of the cemetery sending Jase messages. The only thing I didn’t film was Jason’s secret stash. I figured it was okay for some scenes to be just between Jase and me.
“Are you ready?” Kohana asked again. “Last scene.”
I looked over my director’s notes. Chase came over and sat next to me. “He’d like this scene. Even though it might bug him. He never lost a bet, you know.”
I laughed. He hadn’t. Not with me, anyway. “Ready,” I said, and took another deep breath. This was the final scene. There were no more stills, no more overexposures, no more shadows. Just regular filming—moving forward.
UNTITLED: FINAL SCENE—Orange Chili Shoes Kyle is sitting in the middle of cans of chili. He doesn’t speak. He sits there, waiting for his cue.
KOHANA (VOICE-OVER)
We’re rolling, Kyle.
KYLE
Ready. (Looks into the camera) Three hundred and sixty-five point two-five days, Jase.
Kyle takes off the shoes. Chase comes into the camera’s view and hands Kyle a 1948 Captain Marvel Adventures #81.
KYLE
(Shakes his head) You keep this, Chase.
ZOOM IN: on Kyle’s face as he flips through the pages of the comic book.
CHASE
(Off camera) A bet’s a bet. He’d want you to have this.
ZOOM IN: On the comic book
FADE OUT:
KYLE (VOICE-OVER)
It looks like that’s a wrap.
Kohana, Chase, and I sat there for a while, just hanging out on the porch. “Hungry?” I finally said, holding up a chili can. Then we all cracked up. It had been a long morning.
“What if we finish editing this afternoon?” Kohana asked.
“Yeah!” Chase jumped up. “Let’s go!”
“You think Mr. Cordoba would be okay with that? On a Saturday?”
“We can ask,” Kohana said.
We called Mr. Cordoba.
“Can we work in the library today? To finish the movie? I asked. “I know it sounds crazy, but—”
“I’ll meet you there in half an hour,” Mr. Cordoba interrupted, and hung up the phone.
We hardly recognized Cordoba. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a Juan Valdez T-shirt, and a paint-splattered baseball cap. He let us work all day, late into the afternoon.
“We’re done,” I finally said.
Kohana and Chase nodded.
“Let’s watch it,” said Chase.
“Wait.” Kohana went and got Mr. Cordoba.
The four of us sat down and watched as Jason’s friendship and memories came to life. When the movie ended, nobody said anything for a while. Then Chase started clapping. I thought I saw Mr. Cordoba wipe his nose with a handkerchief.
“What do you think?” Kohana asked.
Mr. Cordoba said, “I bet the judges in the film competition will love it.”
Maybe they would, but that’s not why I had made it.
“You did it, man.” Kohana took out the DVD, slipped it into the case, and handed it to me. “What are you gonna title it?”
I turned it over in my hands and felt relieved. And sad. But I knew it was going to be okay. “Freeze Frame.”
“That’s a perfect title,” Chase whispered.
“Do you boys need a ride home?” Mr. Cordoba said, interrupting the silence of the media room.
“That’d be great, Mr. Cordoba,” Kohana said.
We piled into his car. When we got to Kohana’s house, he said, “We’re going to Squaw next week, Kyle. Can you come?”
“I’d like to,” I said.
“You asked your PO?”
“Yeah. He said it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Cool.” Kohana walked up the path to his house.
On the way home, Chase told Mr. Cordoba about Jason’s planets being wrong on the ceiling and how the Mayas had calculated Venus’s orbit for 6,000 years and were off by a day or something. Mr. Cordoba told Chase he had a great book about the Incas and their solar calendars that he would get to me to give to him. I loved listening to them, talking about ancient worlds, planets’ orbits, and things that made a difference in the world.
57
When I got home, Mel was all ready for the junior prom. “Whaddya think?” She curtsied. She had on a green shiny dress that, I admit, was tight in just the right spots.
“You’re real pretty, Mel.”
She blushed. “Thanks.”
Mom cried when Jake (a.k.a. Hoover) showed up with some massive carnation corsage dyed mint green. She took about a thousand pictures and Dad looked crabby. He did that for the intimidation effect, and since Jake said, “We’ll be home by midnight,” I think it worked.
Mom and Dad decided to go for a walk.
I stepped outside in the chilly evening air. The clouds had faded into streaks of pastels and purples. It was the time of day when the moon still has to share the sky with the sun.
Mrs. Bishop had already turned on her lamp, waiting for Jase to come home. I walked across the street and worked my way to the porch. I stood there in the dim evening light. My hand trembled when it reached out to ring the bell. I listened to the life unfolding inside. Chase and Brooke were fighting about something. Somebody put dishes in cupboards. What would I say?
Mrs. Bishop opened the door with a damp dish towel in her hands.
For a moment, I thought about running away, but some force kept me on that porch. Her cheeks sagged a little. She looked thin. I knew I had done that to her.
My hands shook as I gave her my DVD. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “This was the best I could do to bring him back.”
She wrapped me in her arms. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the supportive communities of children’s writers I’ve been fortunate enough to be involved with: Northern Nevada SCBWI, in particular Ellen, Suzy, Sheryle, Emily, and Katy; my writing family, the Wordslingers, Trish, Christine, Jean, Lisa, and Mandy; and the Blueboarders. Special thanks to my extraordinary family that has always encouraged me: Mom, Dad, Rick, Syd, and Kyra. And finally, I am privileged to work with two of the most amazing professionals in the business: Stephen Barbara, my intrepid agent, who believed in this project from the beginning, and Jill Santopolo, my brilliant editor, who challenged me to take this novel to a whole other level. I am so grateful.
About the Author
Heidi Ayarbe grew up in Nevada and has lived all over the world. She now lives in Colombia with her husband and daughter. FREEZE FRAME is her first novel. You can visit her online at www.heidiayarbe.com.
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Credits
Jacket design by Carla Weise
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FREEZE FRAME. Copyright © 2008 by Heidi Ayarbe. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub © Edition SEPTEMBER 2009 ISBN: 9780061971495
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