He shook his head. “But don’t worry. Norman says it’s okay, you look good to go.”
We practiced standing on the edge of Crow Mountain and pretended that we were watching Pikesville burn.
Tyson was trying to get the walkie-talkies to work. He walked clear across the mountaintop, or at least to where we were.
“Come in, anyone. Come in, anyone. This is Tyson. Does anyone copy?” Tyson would press the button, talk, and then release it, waiting for someone, anyone, to reply.
Seeing him so worried was making me worried.
“This is Pyrotechnic Extraordinaire. Copy?” Skeet said.
“Got him!” Tyson said, running to the director.
The director took the walkie-talkie and pressed the button.
Director: “Norman for Skeet. Copy that?”
Skeet: “Go for Skeet.”
Director: “Are you ready? Copy?”
Skeet: “Ready to burn Pikesville. Hell, yeah.”
Director: “You’ll be on the walkie-talkie with Tyson. Copy?”
Tyson looked sick.
Skeet: “Ty Ty.”
Director: “Yes, Ty Ty.”
Skeet: “Totally stoked.”
Director: “How about a countdown? Copy?”
Skeet: “Copy that.”
Director: “Okay, stand by for Tyson.”
Skeet: “Standing by for Ty Ty.”
Tyson took the walkie-talkie from the director.
“Okay, we’ll have one more run-through, and then we’ll be ready to shoot,” the director said through his bullhorn.
We scrambled back into place.
Terrence had one line. He was proud of that one line. Had worked on that one line for a long time.
Skeet: “Skeet for Ty Ty. Copy that?”
Tyson: “Go for Tyson.”
Skeet: “We are ready to go. Copy?”
Tyson: “Copy that.”
“Skeet’s ready,” Tyson yelled.
“Then so are we,” the director said.
We got in position: “James,” “Helen,” “Hank,” and “Jackson,” aka Terrence.
Skeet: “Skeet for Ty Ty. Copy that?”
Tyson: “Go for Tyson.”
Skeet: “Sirens are blaring. Copy?”
Tyson: “Copy that.”
“The sirens are blaring,” Tyson said.
“Yes, they’re supposed to; we paid off the auxiliary,” the director said. “Tell Skeet we’re ready. Commence countdown.”
Tyson: “Tyson for Skeet. Copy that?”
Skeet: “Go for Skeet.”
Tyson: “Commence countdown. Copy that?”
Skeet: “Commencing countdown. Copy.”
We didn’t move. We were afraid to, actually. There was only one chance to get this right. Skeet had rigged the explosions to mimic a nuclear bomb. In the editing room, they would really make it look like a mushroom cloud.
Skeet: “Skeet to the survivors. Copy that?”
Tyson: “Copy.”
Dylan filmed, and we watched the sky, ready to play the part we were meant to play.
Skeet: “Commencing countdown. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One—”
“Okay, remember, one shot. We’re breaking ground here. Freddy and Terrence in one scene. Wow!” the director screamed. “And ACTION.”
-
EXT. PIKESVILLE MOUNTAIN—MORNING
JAMES, HELEN, HANK, and JACKSON stand on the mountaintop near the edge, watching the town undergo a Civil Defense drill.
The Radio Station plays a message.
Sirens sound.
The Radio Station plays a message.
JAMES, HELEN, HANK, and JACKSON grab hands.
HANK squeezes HELEN’s hand.
JAMES turns to HELEN and looks at HANK.
HELEN shrugs and looks at HANK, biting her bottom lip.
HELEN lets go of JAMES’s and HANK’s hands.