by Annie Bryant
“Dude!” Fabiana whispered to Betsy. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”
Betsy looked skeptical. “But—”
“We can take a break for a little while to be in a movie!” Fabiana assured her. Then she chimed to Bethany, “We’d be happy to fill in. In fact, I have signed photo and film-release forms right here!”
Bethany scanned the papers and nodded briskly. “Great! Everything seems to be in order.”
Fabiana to the rescue, thought a grateful Maeve.
“After losing that map, I made extra sure to keep track of the envelope with all the papers,” Fabiana whispered to Maeve. “Lucky for us I did!”
Fabiana, who had played a starring role in the high school musical West Side Story, looked as eager as Maeve to be part of a real live movie. The other Cranberry Boggers’ heads bobbed up and down enthusiastically. Being in a movie was something to tell their friends and family. The scavenger hunt was completely forgotten. “Follow me,” Bethany instructed, and marched toward the chaos.
A chorus of yays and woo-hoos erupted from everyone in the group. Except Betsy.
“What time period is this supposed to be?” she asked in a vintage Betsy something doesn’t look right tone.
“1717,” replied Bethany. “This movie’s about Black Sam Bellamy and the Whydah.”
Betsy put her hands on her hip and stared at Bethany in disbelief. “Has anyone here ever read a history book?” Betsy’s eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance.
As the Boggers followed Bethany to a nearby trailer, Maeve chatted up a storm, hoping to distract Bethany from Betsy’s comments.
“This isn’t my first movie, Bethany. Last winter I was in an original remake of Roman Holiday, you know, the classic Audrey Hepburn movie?…It was called Boston Holiday. Isn’t that cute?” Maeve scrambled to keep up with the determined girl who marched forward like a U.S. marine.
“Anyhoo,” Maeve went on…and on. “I wasn’t the lead, even though the director wanted me to be…long story…it was a political thing, my dad said. You know how it is. I did play the supporting female lead, a charming little character called Nanny Nuna. Critics—mostly my mom and friends—said it was the most exciting portrayal of a kung-fu fighting nanny—”
Maeve stopped in mid-sentence. Two men in full pirate gear, surrounded by techies in black T-shirts, had passed behind the costume trailer. The pirates’ faces were shaded by huge feathered hats. Maeve strained her neck to see…a familiar nose? She put her hand to her heart. No, it just can’t be. Not here on little old Cape Cod! She would have heard about it…wouldn’t she? After all Maeve Kaplan-Taylor was an official member of his fan club. Somebody surely would have contacted me!
“Sooo,” Bethany said vaguely, completely ignoring Maeve’s starstruck look. “Costumes are in here. See Corrine; she’ll suit you up. Once you’re dressed, go to that trailer for hair and makeup. And hurry, please…we don’t have much time…and thanks for doing this, kids. Ozmond, he’s the director, would have had a serious meltdown if I hadn’t found you little lost-in-the-woods lambs!”
“No prob, Bethany!” Fabiana replied, leading the way into the trailer. Suddenly, the girl who couldn’t find her map was in her element and in charge. Fabiana introduced herself to the costumer and directed the Boggers to line up. “Come on, guys. Chop, chop. These people have a movie to make.”
“Ozmond?” Isabel snickered to Maeve. “That’s such a weird name. Do you think he’s as weird as his name? Maeve…what’s wrong?
“Oh, nothing, I just thought…”
Maeve was off in her own little world, which Isabel couldn’t understand because they were standing right in the middle of the dreamiest trailer. Costumes were everywhere. They were practically hanging from the ceiling. The effect was dazzling.
Isabel’s artist heart was enchanted by the racks of colorful silky dresses, rows of leather boots, slippers with ribbons, and boxes full of bonnets and felt pirate hats with big feathers. She wished she could paint the mix of colors and strange objects. And she especially wished Katani was here. The two of them would have a BSG blast creating outfits.
Corrine, the costumer, was a pale girl with choppy bright blue hair, and looked right at home among the wild outfits. She smacked her bubble gum noisily and tapped her foot as she scanned the Cranberry Boggers.
“You! Scullery maid,” she barked, dumping a maroon and brown folded pile into Isabel’s arms. “You, kitchen wench.” She handed Fabiana some green and brown fabric and examined Danny and Riley.
“Just so you know, I was in my camp play The Man Who Came to Dinner,” Danny shared proudly. “I played THE MAN.”
“Awesome,” Corrine responded dryly. “Now you’ll be the cabin boy.” She turned to Riley. “And powder monkey,” she pronounced.
“Cool!” breathed Riley. “I guess once a monkey, always a monkey, right?”
“You’re the coolest mustard monkey I know,” exclaimed Maeve. Riley’s band, the Mustard Monkeys, was his pride and joy, so he gave her a high five.
Corrine tilted her head at Maeve and Betsy.
Betsy prodded Maeve in the back. She blinked and gave Corrine her camera-ready smile. If Maeve got a starring role, she might get to meet those two pirates face to face! And if one of them was who she thought he was—well, life would be beyond perfect. But first things first.
“So Corinne,” she informed the costume mistress, “my best colors are magenta, light magenta, hot magenta, and French rose. Red hair, you know the deal. If there’s maybe a princess part…or some kind of Tinker Bell fairy-ish role…” Maeve raised her eyebrows hopefully. “I do a great fairy princess.”
Corrine loudly snapped her gum. “Well, today you’ll be cleaning the poop deck as a great cabin boy.”
“The poop deck?” Maeve’s face turned green.
Danny leaned over and explained, “The poop deck is a small deck that’s also the roof of a cabin near the back of the ship.”
Corinne ignored him and nodded at Betsy. “You too, cabin boy.” The rest of the Boggers snickered as Corrine placed a pile of dirt-colored clothing into Maeve’s once hopeful arms and handed an identical costume to Betsy.
Maeve raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, it sounded like you said ‘boy’….”
Corrine nodded. “I did.”
“Well, that won’t work. See, I’m a girl.” Maeve held up a long, curly strand of hair to prove her point.
“No problem. That’s what these are for.” Corrine held up two short-haired brown wigs.
Maeve gulped. Brown was so not her color!
“You see,” Corrine continued, “We asked for two female extras and the rest were boys. I’m sorry, but I’m fresh outta girl parts.”
“That’s okay,” said Betsy in a haughty voice. She placed the costume on a chair. “I have three things to say. A. I am not an actress. While I regard the craft of theater as a noble talent, I myself am more invested, first and foremost, in academics. B. I would never dream of participating in a historical reenactment that peddled such—such well, let’s face it, historical inaccuracy.” She paused to take a breath.
“Honestly, there are tepees out there, tepees! And frankly, Corrine, anyone with half a brain KNOWS that the Native Americans in Massachusetts and Rhode Island were Wampanoags, and they didn’t live in tepees, they lived in wetus.”
Betsy sighed and tossed a braid behind her shoulder. “And C. Corrine…I don’t do wigs. Gosh, haven’t you people ever heard of head lice?”
The rest of the Cranberry Boggers’ mouths dropped open. Even Maeve had to admit, it was a pretty impressive performance. She was about to jump in and explain away Betsy’s unique world view, when Isabel interrupted.
“Me too. I mean, not me too for the same reasons, even though, Betsy, your reasons were very, very good ones….” Isabel bit her lip and put the dress costume on top of Betsy’s. “I just, I’m really, um, not big on…you know, acting or being filmed. I want to be an artist someday.” Isabel let
out a whoosh like she had been holding her breath the whole time. Maeve felt for her. Isabel hated to make speeches in public.
Her hand shot up. MKT would save her friend from the horrors of being an actress. “I can take her place!” she volunteered and ran over to Isabel, dramatically clasping a grinning Isabel’s hand. “I will be the scullery maid that you…could not. I will make you proud.”
“Oh boy, aren’t you something!” Corrine tossed the maroon dress at Maeve, who clutched it to her like a bridesmaid cradling the bouquet. “Okay, girls, you change here. Boys, go to the trailer to the left labeled—big shocker—MEN. I need you in hair and makeup in five. You two”—she pointed at Betsy and Isabel—“come with me.”
“That means five minutes,” Maeve explained as Corrine, Betsy, the boys, and one very relieved Isabel hustled out of the trailer.
Maeve and Fabiana were both in love with their costumes, which had glorious white puffy sleeves, tight waists, aprons, and long, flowing skirts complete with fake rips and patches.
“It’s called distressed fabric,” explained Fabiana.
“I’m kind of worried,” Maeve confessed, tying a dark blue bandana around her red curls. “What if Betsy and her hysterically correct speech about this movie gets us all in trouble?” she asked.
Fabiana burst out laughing. “The word’s historically, Maeve!”
“Whatever,” Maeve said as she twirled around to see how far out her skirt would spin. “The point is that Betsy was kind of obnoxious—the movie crew people might not like that.”
“It’ll be fine.” Fabiana assured Maeve. “Drama types love take-charge people. It makes it easier for them to concentrate on their craft.”
Maeve pondered that wisdom for a second.
“Well, okay, “she said, “But personally I think that Corrine girl was kinda snobby, don’t you?” Maeve asked confidentially as she looked around to make sure no one was listening.
Fabiana agreed. “Well, she sure wasn’t what I’d call Miss Congeniality, but I still think that people who really care about what they do appreciate some honest feedback. And Betsy definitely shot her some of that!”
“You know, Fabiana, when you lost that map I thought maybe we were in trouble, but you really are a very sensible girl.” “Sensible” was the word Maeve’s mother used whenever she was complimenting someone. So why wasn’t Fabiana beaming? “Did I say something bad?” Maeve hated hurting people’s feelings more than anything.
“No, it’s just…well, I felt bad about that map,” Fabiana confessed as she looked over at the clock. “We’d better get over to hair and makeup.” At that both girls burst into giggles. Hair and makeup and a real movie set! Maeve and Fabiana were in heaven.
When she and Fabiana arrived at the hair and makeup trailer they found a very distressed Riley and a displeased Danny, both of whom were surrounded by lipsticks and brushes and jars of potions and lotions. Corrine was practically on her knees pleading. “Come on, guys. It will only take one minute,” she said.
“No makeup.” Riley shook his head.
“Dude, no one will even be able to see it,” Fabiana assured him, catching on to the problem. “Trust me, I hate wearing makeup too. But when you’re under those bright lights, if you don’t have makeup you look like a sickly ghost.”
“Real pirates don’t wear makeup.” Danny jumped up. “Shiver me timbers, ye swabbies!” Danny brandished his arm about like it was a sword.
Maeve, who had no problem with makeup, jumped right into a whirly chair and sang, “Time to put my face on!” as a brown-haired girl swooped in with a soft puff filled with sparkling powder and gracefully fluffed Maeve’s cheeks. “See, Riley!” Maeve explained, “It’s fun! You’ll feel like a real movie star…. I promise.”
“Well, technically you are!” The brown-haired girl smiled. Maeve liked this girl a lot more than that grouchy blue-haired Corrine.
“So…” Maeve asked as the girl brushed her hair back, “who are the other real stars in this movie? I mean, the story of the Whydah totally deserves Hollywood’s top talent!”
“There’s Lindstrom…” Corrine started.
“Lola Lindstrom!” Maeve nearly fell out of her chair, and Fabiana let out a strange, high-pitched whine.
“Lola Lindstrom,” Corrine repeated in a singsong voice. “Let me give you all a heads-up. That girl is mean as a snake and my advice is to stay away from her…. I mean it,” she cautioned when she saw Maeve’s disbelieving face. Lola was one of Maeve’s favorite actresses and she didn’t believe for one second what Corrine the iceberg was saying.
Zoe (that was the brown-haired girl’s name) took advantage of the moment to smear creamy tanned makeup and fake dirt smudges all over Riley’s face, which launched starstruck Maeve into a fit of nervous laughter.
“At least it’s makeup dirt,” he mumbled. “Dirt is okay.”
“Don’t you get all wacky over Lola, girls,” Corrine warned. “She’s not even supposed to be shooting until the wedding scene tomorrow.”
A Nack-Crow-Nizzem
Isabel shifted back and forth nervously in front of the head of set design, a young man named Patrick, and his assistant, a curly-headed mop top named Poppy. Corrine had kindly dropped off Isabel with them, but hustled away without a word of explanation or an introduction. The two designers were staring at Isabel with expectant expressions on their faces.
A very embarrassed Isabel tried to explain. “Um, I’m Isabel and I thought I could just, well, watch what you do on the set,” she said quietly. “I’m really into art and design and my friends are going to be extras…and I can’t act…and, well, I have a passion for color….” Isabel’s voice trailed off. She hoped these two “movie types” didn’t think she was a total geek.
“We could use an extra hand today,” Poppy said coolly. “Couldn’t we, Patrick?”
“Sure. We’ll show you around,” a nonchalant Patrick said as if it was no big deal to have some strange twelve-year-old involved in his work.
And soon, instead of sitting in a corner just watching the action, Isabel found herself wandering around a real live movie set, helping touch up the thatched roofs and walls in the village. Patrick even taught her how to turn on a set light—with his help, of course—and how to adjust the brightness as the clouds and sun changed. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother and sister about her lucky day.
“I used to be a lot like you,” Patrick confessed to Isabel as they poured some paint to fill in a crease in the Styrofoam of a wall Black Sam was supposed to burst through.
“Really? You liked art classes too?” she asked.
Patrick chuckled. “Um, no, I was one of those AV geeks. Totally into filming and video editing. But then I majored in film in college and took a lot of classes on set design. Poppy here was the art nerd.”
“That’s right, Isabel. My clothes were covered with splotches of paint every day.” He shrugged, and held out one arm. It was already covered with yellow blotches and they’d been painting for only five minutes!
“Me too!” Isabel exclaimed, showing off her own splattered sleeves. Then she took a good look around and observed, “Well, this set looks pretty cool to me.”
Patrick squinted and chewed the end of his pencil. “Eh, there are a couple of elements we need to tweak. Apparently your pal Betsy over there is consulting with the director now on how we can eliminate some of the anachronisms.”
“What’s a Nack-Crow-Nizzem?” asked Isabel, who, as a hard-core bird lover, would have noticed if there was a crow called a Nizzem flying around.
Patrick smiled. “Anachronism…um, something that is out of place for a time period. It would be like if there were a movie about Paul Revere and if instead of riding a horse and shouting ‘The British are coming,’ he rode a red convertible and just sent an e-mail.”
Isabel clapped her hands. “I get it!” She made a note to tell Charlotte, who adored fancy words, about that one later. She was also busy making great use of her time with Pa
trick and Poppy to scratch a few items off the bonus list. She managed to take a picture of a little prop fox in the long grass, and finding something pirate-themed was a piece of cake.
As she snapped a picture of an abandoned pirate hat and cutlass lying in the grass, her friends came running over to show off their costumes. Isabel captured all the ridiculousness with the Cranberry Boggers’ team camera. Lastly, Betsy sauntered over looking extremely pleased with herself.
“See that?” She pointed at a bunch of crewmembers breaking down a tepee. “And that?” She gestured to a group of actors getting their long pants hemmed into shorter britches. “All me! Ozmond is thrilled.” She waved to an older man in a pair of bright red golfing pants and a white suit jacket who was presiding over the hemming of the pants and waving a notebook around.
“Ozmond told me to check and see if there are any other things on the set that don’t make sense for this period in history,” Betsy proudly shared with everyone.
“They’re called anachronisms,” Danny added. Isabel squared her shoulders, happy to have known that. “That’s so cool, Betsy!” Danny went on.
Betsy seemed shocked by his response. “Really?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “I wish I got to be a consultant.” His voice turned into a hush when he added, “But after that awesome speech you gave, you totally deserve the job!” The corners of Betsy’s mouth turned up a bit as she basked in Danny’s admiration.
“PLACES!” shouted Ozmond, and the entire notebook went flying out of his hands. A panicked assistant lunged for it, landing face-first in the dust just inches from the Styrofoam wall Isabel and the set designers had just fixed up. The wall quivered slightly as the assistant raised up the rescued notebook.
Ozmond barely seemed to notice. “Cameras roll in five!” He instructed in some kind of weird fakey British accent.
“Oooh! Here we go!” squealed Maeve, and with that the Cranberry Boggers-turned-extras scampered off to their places on the set.
“Ozmond’s such a wonderful director.” Betsy sighed and then looked around to see if anyone important was listening. “He has a minuscule budget on this film, you know. That’s why he needs extra help on the set,” she whispered conspiratorially to Isabel.
