“We’re doing the documentary now?” Haku asked, looking at Matt. “We haven’t prepared or discussed what topic ‑‑”
Elaine dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. “Don’t worry, we have it all scripted out. You guys are really just putting a qualified face to the information we want to impart ‑‑”
She broke off when a balding man with a bad comb-over and a clipboard approached and pulled her aside. Haku looked at Matt again as Elaine and the comb-over guy kept glancing their way, the guy shaking his head.
“What the hell is this about, Matt? This seems awfully bogus. How can we do this documentary if we aren’t in charge of what we say?”
Matt shrugged and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Hey, twelve grand is twelve grand. Does it really matter how we get the grant, as long as we get it?”
“It does to me,” Haku said quietly as Elaine and the comb-over guy returned.
“Gentlemen, this is Harry Young, the director. He thinks that it will be better if only one of you does the narration. It will be, um, less jarring for the viewers.”
“Haku’s your man,” Matt said, nudging Haku forward. “He’s a pro at public speaking. When he lectures, those kids never take their eyes off him.”
Haku smiled and was glad he didn’t have Matt’s paler complexion because he was sure his embarrassed blush would show. Haku’s smile faded, however, when the comb-over guy suddenly became enamored of his clipboard and Elaine cleared her throat while studying the toes of her sneakers.
Elaine looked back up. “Actually…Harry and I think that you might be better, Mr. Gavin. You’ve got a Heath Ledger sort of look about you that’s sure to strike a chord with our target audience.”
“And he’s white,” Haku muttered.
“Is there something you want to say, Mr. Nishikawa?”
“Not in mixed company,” Haku answered, staring at Young, who’d clearly made the prejudicial decision.
Elaine cleared her throat again. “Well, let’s get you into makeup and give you a chance to look over the script, Mr. Gavin. I think what you’re wearing is perfect; we can dispense with wardrobe.”
Matt furrowed his brow and folded his arms across his chest. “But what about Haku?”
“Well.” The woman glanced over her shoulder. “We do have another part we were going to use an extra for, but he hasn’t shown up yet.”
“Never mind.” Haku slipped his hands in his pockets. “I’ll just watch.”
“No way.” Matt clapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll be more fun with you.”
Elaine adjusted her glasses. “The scene is actually going to be a reenactment of an interview with the former owner of this station. Most of the dialogue is written out on cue cards, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“I don’t think so,” Haku tried to decline, his temper rising at the filmmaker’s patronizing attitude.
“Don’t bail on me now.” Matt frowned. “Come on.”
“Fine.” Haku let out a puff of air.
“Then you will need a wardrobe change.” Elaine turned back around and headed for one of two RV-like trailers parked outside the building. Haku and Matt followed her, while behind them Young poked around with the camera equipment. They walked without saying anything; Haku felt seriously uncomfortable with the whole situation, but each time he glanced over to catch Matt’s eye, the other man made it a point to look somewhere else.
Elaine bounced up the metal steps and unlocked the door. Compared to most of the trailers Haku had seen in the movie lots off the boulevard, this one was tiny. The inside had just enough room for a couple of folding chairs and a vanity, with cases of camera equipment blocking the window that faced toward the driver. Racks of clothing and a narrow dressing room stall lined the opposite side of the trailer.
“Here.” Elaine grabbed a hanger from the rack and shoved the bundle of clothing into Haku’s hand. She jerked her thumb in the direction of the dressing stall. “Change into that really quick while I get Mr. Gavin set.”
Pursing his lips, Haku stepped into the stall. Matt offered him an encouraging thumbs-up, but he closed the door without acknowledging the gesture. For about two minutes, he felt guilty about directing his passive-aggressive anger toward Matt and changed without paying much attention. When he buttoned his pants and the piece of clothing sagged about three inches past his waist, Haku took notice of his wardrobe.
“Uh, Matt?” He pushed open the door and scowled at his friend.
Matt turned away from Elaine, who was trying to comb back his hair, his jaw hanging open. “Is that polyester?” He raised an eyebrow.
“The interview takes place around 1979.” Elaine nodded.
“Oh, God.” Haku stared down at the plum-colored nightmare of a suit, the pants legs flaring around his feet in bell-bottoms. “I’m not wearing this.”
“It is a little big on you.” Elaine adjusted her glasses. “But like I said, we were expecting someone else to play the role.”
“Play the role? So we’re acting now?” Haku stared in horror at the paisley tie dangling from his neck.
“Maybe lose the tie,” Matt suggested in a small voice.
“You think?” Haku glared at him.
Elaine sighed. “We have to start filming in five minutes, so…”
In other words, so shut up. Haku waited until she left, then grabbed Matt by the arm. “This is a joke,” he fumed.
“It’s for the grant.” Matt shrugged weakly. “I know it bites, but what can we do? Our program is on probation, and it’s not like we have tons of contributors knocking on our door to give us money.”
A very good point, Haku had to admit. He let go with a sigh. “Fine.”
They exited the trailer and joined Elaine at the spot in front of the station that was set up for filming. The last of the sunlight was a pink strip in the sky above the building’s dilapidated rooftop, but two lamps had been placed on either side of the camera. The light focused on a section of the building where a few of the bricks had crumbled off the wall, faint traces of black graffiti visible on the mortar still clinging to the structure. To Haku, the “set” looked spooky enough for any cheesy, late-night B-movie.
“This is for the grant,” Matt muttered under his breath, trying to convince himself, no doubt.
“Okay, guys.” Elaine gestured for them to stand close to the wall. “We don’t have time to go over the script, so just read the cards. Sound good?”
Matt put on a cheerful smile and nodded. Haku muttered a curt, “Yes.”
After tossing a microphone at Matt, Elaine picked up a stack of cards and stood just behind the camera. Young moved behind the equipment, and a red light above of the camera lens blinked on. “Ready, guys?” he asked.
“Uh,” Haku started.
“Good. Go!”
Elaine whipped out one of the two by three foot pieces of cardboard. A section of dialogue was scrawled across the front in permanent ink. Matt jumped right in, reading through the first line.
“For the past eight months, Hershel Schwartzman has been experiencing a number of strange phenomena at his institution.” He raised an eyebrow at the camera, his voice losing some of its gusto. “Could this be the work of…ghosts?”
Haku felt the heat spread across his cheeks. When Matt held the microphone up to his lips, he was so pissed he couldn’t bring himself to read the card.
“Schwartzman?” he asked, his brows raised high enough to disappear under the fringes of black hair falling over his eyes. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m of Japanese descent.”
“Cut!” Young snapped. “Can you just stick to the script, please?”
“But ‑‑” Matt started.
“Whatever,” Young sighed. “After the potato famine, the Irish went everywhere.”
“Huh?” Haku’s face screwed up in confusion. “What the hell? I’m not Irish either. And I bet Hershel Schwartzman wasn’t also!”
“Just. Go. With. It.” Young glared
at them. “Or do you not want the payment?”
Haku pressed his lips into a thin line, and Matt cleared his throat.
“Okay then.” The director ducked back behind the camera. “Action!”
Matt lifted the microphone back to Haku’s lips and squinted at the next card.
“So, um, Herschel ‑‑” Matt cleared his throat. “What kind of strange happenings have you observed?”
“It was a night like any other ‑‑ or so it appeared.” Haku took a deep breath and forced himself to continue. “I had recently purchased this building with an eye to remodeling it into a seafood restaurant.”
Haku followed the director’s frantic hand signals and began walking toward the rear of the building while the camera was rolled alongside, and Elaine hurried to keep in front of him with the cue cards. “I had come here numerous times in the early evening hours to discuss renovations with the architect. A few times before, I had that unmistakable feeling of being watched, but, of course, I knew that it was my imagination.”
Matt chimed in on cue. “What about this particular night was different?”
Haku looked at Matt, then did as directed and stared right into the camera. “This particular night the architect and I saw what was watching us.”
A muffled, gurgling roar came from off to their left. Something lurched forward from the shadows with the rustle of heavy cloth.
“The hell?” Matt cocked his head to one side. Haku stared, completely baffled. The thing shuffling into the range of the camera lights looked like a stack of filthy mops. From the musty smell of mildew that wafted from it, Haku guessed that was exactly what it was.
From the corner of his eye, Haku picked up on Elaine waving frantically at him with one of the cards. He turned and squinted at the lettering. “That night we saw a…” He paused, unable to finish the scripted line. “Are you serious?”
Yes, she mouthed.
The thing stumbled forward and waved its fuzzy limbs, making that funny braying sound the whole time. Haku looked from the woman to the stumbling sack of mops then to Matt, who was scratching the back of his head, his face scrunched up in a look of confusion mixed with disgust.
“The line,” Elaine whispered sharply. “Say the line!”
Haku cleared his throat and mumbled through the card. “That night we saw a…monster?”
Matt dropped the microphone to his waist. “Oh, come on.”
The director’s yell of “Cut!” made him sound as though he’d just become the mop monster’s latest victim, and when the man rushed forward and began a tirade against him and Matt, Haku simply shook his head and wandered back toward the trailer to change into his own clothing. He couldn’t go on with this farce, no matter how badly their department needed the grant.
Haku pulled off the hideous paisley tie and stuffed it into the pocket of the scratchy leisure suit jacket. He could still hear Matt’s voice carrying above the din of Young and Elaine. Part of him felt as though he should go support Matt and his argument, but he kept walking to the trailer until a deep, accented male voice slithered from behind him.
Chapter Five
“Not suited for show business, my friend?”
Pissed, Haku turned toward the masculine voice. “What I’m ‘not suited for’ is this farce,” he snapped. Expecting to find another jerk from the production company, he blinked a few times in surprise at the dark-haired, olive-skinned man leaning against the trailer.
“Sorry.” Haku dropped his hand from the buttons at the top of his shirt. The stranger bowed his head in a courteous gesture, the faintest hint of a bemused grin on his lips. Realizing that he was staring, Haku looked back toward the set.
“Are you with Voyager Films?” he asked, feeling awkward. Not that there was any logical reason he should. The man’s grin broadened.
“No.”
More awkward silence ensued. The guy didn’t look like one of those silly, star-struck tourists crowding the boulevard and hoping for a glimpse of a celebrity. He wore khaki pants and a tight black ringer T-shirt, and with his exotic features, he might’ve been an actor or model himself.
Baka, you’re staring again. Haku mentally kicked himself. As a distraction, he focused on Matt’s exchange with Young across the lot. Then promptly wished he hadn’t. Matt had the mop monster pinned to the ground and was trying to tug off the frumpy mask while Elaine frantically waved at the pair with her cue cards.
“God, this is so embarrassing,” Haku mumbled.
“Maybe He has a sense of humor after all.” The stranger laughed, a low, velvety sound that sent a shiver through Haku’s body despite the warmth of the evening. The man looked him up and down, making Haku even more self-conscious of his ridiculous clothes.
“Right.” Haku rubbed the back of his neck, keeping his attention on a rusty spot on the trailer rather than meeting the stranger’s gaze. From the heat spreading across his cheeks, Haku worried that he was turning red. Great…he would clash with the suit.
“You’re cute.” The man laughed again.
“What?” Haku sucked in his breath. As shallow as it sounded to admit it, the attention from this handsome stranger was a little flattering. But creepy also, for reasons he had trouble putting into words, and Jesus ‑‑ Matt was only a few feet away, so what the hell was Haku thinking about anyway?
The other man’s smile shifted into something darker. “The night is only just starting,” he said. “Maybe those inhibitions won’t seem so important later on.”
Haku blinked. “I don’t ‑‑ I ‑‑ Excuse me?” he stammered. The man just winked.
Before Haku could try replying, Elaine barreled into him. She grabbed Haku by the shoulders and wrenched him around. “Help! Get it off!” She started dragging him toward the set.
“Wait.” Haku looked back. The man was gone.
“Hurry.” Elaine jerked him forward. “They need your help!”
Haku shook his head, but it did nothing to clear his thoughts or the weird feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He followed Elaine over to the back of the abandoned building, where Matt had the mop monster in a headlock.
“Matthew, cut it out,” he said, actually too distracted to be as mortified as he expected.
“Give me a hand.” Matt grunted, pressing his knee into the monster’s back and wrenching the top of its head.
“Let’s just go,” Haku snapped. But Elaine pushed him forward.
“No, no! The mask is stuck!” She picked up her cue cards and started spastically fanning the two men on the floor. “Jeremy’s suffocating in there!”
“Oh.” Haku’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit, sorry!”
He moved behind Matt, squatting to also grab a hold of the fuzzy mask. He pulled back, coughing at the mildewy dust rolling off the costume. The mask gave way with a loud pop, and Matt fell back into Haku. Both men tumbled to the ground, the mask landing beside them in a little cloud of dust.
Wheezing and puffing for air, the actor rolled around on the ground. “Thank God!” Jeremy gasped. Elaine waved the cue cards around even more vigorously, telling him to breathe deeply. Finally, Young appeared with a bottled water in his hand. He splashed some in the actor’s face, and Jeremy burst into a coughing fit.
“We just got that damn thing off, don’t drown him now.” Matt sat up, wiping his sweaty forehead dry on the back of his sleeve. He rubbed his right shoulder, wincing. “Why the hell was he even wearing that getup?”
“It’s in the script.” Elaine dropped the cards and knelt beside the gasping actor. She propped up his head and grabbed the bottle of water from Young.
“What kind of ridiculous documentary is this, anyway?” Haku stood up, kicking the filthy mask into the shadows outside of the camera lights.
“It’s an exposé,” she said. Jeremy reached up for the bottle, but she took a long drink for herself.
“On what?” Matt scowled.
“Hoaxes and frauds, people taking advantage of the public’s superstitions a
bout paranormal stuff…” Her voice trailed off.
“What. The. Fuck!” Matt glared at Elaine and Young. “So this has been a goddamned setup the entire time? Is your fucking boss doing this just to dick off Professor Adler because of some fucking college prank twenty years ago?”
“Don’t you curse at us!” Young shouted back. “We have a film to make; we don’t care what Mr. Dannings’s motivations are!”
Matt lunged forward, and Haku darted to get between the men. His arms outstretched, hands upon Matt’s broad chest, he stared at his lover fiercely and told himself he did not glimpse a reflection of that mysterious man in Matt’s blue eyes. “Matt, let it go. It’s not worth it.”
“We were used!”
“Almost used. Let’s just go back to school and think of a way to get other funding.”
With a muttered curse, Matt turned and began walking away. Haku followed.
“You’d better leave that clothing here!” the director called to Haku.
Haku looked over his shoulder and frowned. “Believe me, I will.” As he looked forward, he thought he caught a glimpse of that guy again, but there was nothing except a lengthening shadow cast by Matt as he walked ahead. Damn, what the hell was wrong with him? Quickening his pace, he caught up to Matt near the dressing room trailer. “I’ll change clothes and be out in a minute.”
Haku exited the trailer seconds before a man’s scream pierced the quiet.
“Right.” Haku narrowed his eyes at the other trailer a short distance away. A shiver coursed through his body for the second time that night, and he tried to shake off the odd feeling of being watched that settled over him. He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see the stranger from earlier. Nothing but more shadows, and beyond that, the dull glow of the camera lamps around the corner.
Matt moved toward the other trailer and Haku followed, keeping his footsteps silent. They reached the steps and Matt climbed up, reaching out to grip the handle of the partially open door. “Are you okay in there, man?” he called out.
Something hit the roof of the trailer with a dull thud. Haku looked up and caught a dark form scurrying away from the ledge. Seeing it too, Matt jumped over the side of the steps. “I don’t think that was Jeremy,” he whispered.
Parallel Process Page 5
