“Just Skeet,” Tyson said, meeting us at the gate. “He’s going a little overboard with the pyrotechnics.”
BOOM.
“Just you wait until this morning—he’s going to rock this area,” he said, looking at his watch.
Skeet’s big explosion was going to be set off at exactly 10 a.m. Director Edman was a very method director. If the script said 10 a.m., it was going to be 10 a.m. when they said “action.” Like it made any difference.
BOOM.
“And if you’re wondering, yes, neighbors have complained, but we gave them money for their troubles. Who doesn’t like money?”
“How much money?” Terrence asked.
“Ten bucks,” Tyson said.
“That’s all to be away from your house for a few hours?” I asked.
“The whole day,” he said. “Most took our offer. Everyone on the mountain did.”
“So there’s not going to be anyone on the mountain besides us?” I asked.
“That’s right.”
BOOM.
“A lot of people decided to become extras, so they’re getting paid extra if they decide to look like victims. The makeup crew is on hyperdrive.”
Tyson started the engine to the golf cart.
BOOM.
“And people are actually shaving off their hair,” he said. “Grown men and women, not just people your age. Seventy-five dollars must seem like a lot of money for you people.”
“Hey,” I said.
“I know, low blow, sorry.”
“Yeah, sure you are.”
“Yeah, I’m not. Soon I’ll be out of these boondocks. ’Cause honestly, it’s hell here. I needed to run an errand and had to drive thirty minutes to get to civilization, and they didn’t even have what I was looking for. Could order it, but come on, the pony express was probably faster.”
“Hey,” Terrence said.
“What?” Tyson asked. “Come on. Being told to turn left after the fourth cow is not normal.”
BOOM.
Tyson slammed on the brakes in front of Kitty’s trailer.
“But I’ll sure miss you guys,” Tyson said.
I started laughing, but he was being serious.
“I thought you were telling one of those jokes that I don’t get,” I said. “Like your face.” I smiled.
“Harharhar.”
BOOM.
“If Skeet doesn’t watch it, he’s going to destroy the whole area,” Terrence said.
“A bomb will only improve your little town,” Tyson said.
“We can say it. You can’t,” I said.
“But you agree?” Tyson asked.
“I didn’t say that.”
Tyson smiled.
BOOM.
Chapter Thirty-Two
We were going to look like an American flag up on that mountain. Raymond had me in a blue dress while the boys were wearing red. Astrid would be dead. Exactly no one else wanted to be an extra up on the mountain. Everyone wanted to be part of the walking dead.
“Dylan will be filming you from behind, so I’m thinking a braid,” Kitty said, brushing my hair. “And makeup light,” she added, taking the pink eye shadow and dabbing it with a brush on my eyelid.
The door opened and then quickly shut. “Well, hello there, Laura,” Astrid said, taking off her coat.
It was warm in there. Heaters with an S, plural. Those people from Cali (which they certainly did not call it and would roll their eyes if you did) could not handle the cold.
“I’m here to get my death look,” she said. “Apparently, radiation has ravaged my body, eyes swollen, blood coming out of my nose. I’m going to look so pretty.”
“Of course you will,” said Kitty.
“You always do,” added Raymond.
Kitty and Raymond looked at each other. You could cut the sarcasm with a knife.
“Aren’t you both so sweet,” Astrid said, smiling.
Kitty worked on my lips while Raymond was burning pieces of fabric for Astrid’s costume. Yes, her character did get fire-blasted before.
“I’ve been in a firefight,” Astrid said.
“And you lose,” I said.
She laughed. “And I get paid for it.”
“Well, when you go, I’ll miss you,” I said.
“Will you, now?” she said, more of a statement rather than a question.
“Yeah, that’s why I said it.”
“I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”
“You’re not going to stick around for the end-of-filming party?”
“It’s called a wrap party,” she said.
“Oh—”
“Besides, I’m up for the next John Hughes film. I’m playing the character named Sloane.”
“Cool,” I said.
“It is cool. I’m going to have to fall in love with the boy who almost nuked Seattle.”
“That won’t be hard,” I said.
“Yeah, you don’t exactly understand acting, but I get your point. He’s cute,” she said, smiling.
Kitty fixed the flyaways with a bit of hair spray and retouched my lipstick while Raymond helped me with my coat. The zipper got stuck on a snag. The coat was at least two sizes too big, but they assured me this was how all the actresses wore them.
“Are you all going to be alone up there without hair and makeup?” Astrid said, so distraught I thought she was going to cry for us.
“No, we’re coming,” said Kitty.
She shook her head. “I want to see what Skeet has in store. You know, the big bang.”
I grabbed my Nuke Me tote bag, and out the door I went. I stood off to the side, waiting for the yellow school bus with Astrid, who was just getting in the way.
“You should be studying your line,” she said.
I didn’t want to overdo it with mine. It was like over-studying for a test. And anyway, I was just there to look pretty, as Astrid would have said.
Terrence was with Freddy in his trailer, probably playing video games. Owen was walking toward me. I haven’t had much contact with him since filming began. And now we have to act together. I didn’t know what I would say. Hey? Hello? Or just hi? But he walked right by me. Didn’t say anything, like I wasn’t even standing there.
“Owen, stop!” Tyson yelled as he ran right into him.
“I’m sorry,” Owen said. “They dilated my eyes. I can’t see a damn thing.”
“Why didn’t they wait until you got where you are going?” Astrid asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
I walked over to Owen, who was leaning up against a chain-link fence and staring down at the ground.
“I was going to say who goes there, but I smell your perfume,” he said.
“I’m not wearing any,” I said.
“Oh, Laura, I thought it was Astrid,” he said.
“Seriously,” Astrid said. “I’m offended by that.”
“Wait—you’re offended by that? I should be.”
Astrid laughed.
“I’m sorry, Laura,” Owen said.
“It’s my own fault,” Astrid said. “I sprayed a little of Opium by Yves Saint Laurent on her.”
“Did I smell?” I asked.
“No, of course not,” she said. “I was being nice.” She shook her head. “I’ll try better next time.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
The school bus drove up, and the bus driver opened the door, and Tyson was the first on. Owen was blindly going along. I ran up to him and took his arm.
“Who’s there?” he asked, but didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Doesn’t matter. I can do it myself.”
“But—” I said.
“I can do it myself.”
“You can do it yourself,” I repeated.
I followed him on and took a seat three rows behind him.
The director and Dylan came walking up the steps of the bus. The director looked at Tyson. “I have an important job for you. You will communicate with this with Skeet down on Main Street.” He handed him a walkie-talkie.