by TJ Klune
“Motherdicker,” he groaned, dropping Quincy’s hand to rub his knee. “What the effin frick.”
And then he heard the strangest sound.
Something he’d never heard before.
Quincy was laughing.
It wasn’t the loud, gut-busting guffaw of someone who found something extraordinarily funny. It probably couldn’t even be considered laughter. It was more of a dry, dusty chuckle of amusement, and Josy was entranced by the sound. Quincy was smiling and shaking his head, and he had these little crinkles around his eyes, and Josy wanted to see that expression on his face always.
It was a first for him, feeling that way.
He didn’t know what it meant.
But that was okay too.
It was enough. For now.
HE THOUGHT he woke up in the middle of the night to the glow of a laptop and furious typing on a keyboard, but in the morning, he figured it was just a dream.
Chapter 13
The Stories of My Father (Working Title)
Day 15
Location: The Woods
Scene 18
LIAM EAGLETON was lost. Metaphorically. Spiritually.
And literally.
He was literally lost in the woods.
He didn’t know how long he’d been gone. Time moved weirdly ever since he’d found out that the imaginary friends he’d had in his childhood were real. It’d taken him time to come to terms with the fact that his father’s stories were true and not part of some cerebral event that was indicative of a major stroke.
But maybe it was. Maybe he was in a hospital right this very second, attached to the same machines his father was at the house, and he was dreaming all of this.
It was crazy, right?
But what if it wasn’t?
Boris Biggles had changed since Liam knew him as a child. Then he’d been rough and somber, the memories of the sunflower family he’d lost in the Great War against the Weeds still fresh in his mind. That Boris hadn’t given two shits about anything but the pain that burned through him.
The Boris that had shown up to the house was… different. He’d led Liam through the woods, laughing and singing incoherently. It wasn’t until Liam had caught up with him—sure he was finally losing it—that he’d realized that Boris wasn’t how he’d been all those years before. This Boris was wild and overwrought, and had spun a tale of the land Liam’s father had spoken of being in trouble.
(Granted, this came after extensive rewrites on the fly. Screenplays evolved. It happened.)
Boris had told Liam that he was needed to save their world. That since he’d forgotten them, forgotten the stories of his father, they were in danger.
And then he’d been reintroduced to Mr. Zucko, the half man, half zebra with a penchant for talking tough and fighting crime as a private investigator.
(Mason Grazer was not happy with this costume. At all.)
Which led to Dill, the gigantic cucumber and fearful fellow who acted as Mr. Zucko’s secretary.
(Mason Grazer was, if possible, even less pleased with this costume.)
Which, in turn, led to Liam’s current predicament: traveling through the woods with Grady, a lion of a man who had the heart of a king.
Grady, who reminded Liam of Dante.
It brought out very conflicting feelings.
Grady was more tired than Liam ever remembered seeing him as a child. Then he’d been majestic and kingly and would always chase away the loneliness Liam felt when his father was off following his dreams, having left his only son with yet another caregiver.
But Liam wasn’t that child anymore.
And he could appreciate Grady in a whole new light.
Even if they were lost in the woods.
They had been tasked by Boris Biggles to find the Three Oracles of the Woods, beings of pure magic who could aid in their quest to claim the forest. It wasn’t going very well.
“This is pointless,” Grady snarled. “They’re playing with us. Even now, these woods that have been my home since I could remember are being used against me!” He tilted his head back and roared.
(Granted, it came out like a strangled yell, but Quincy said they’d add sound effects in post.)
“We’ll figure it out,” Liam said, voice pleading. “You can’t keep going on like this, Grady. It’s tearing you apart.”
Grady’s eyes were blazing as he whirled on Liam. “You don’t know anything about me, boy. You chose to forget us. You chose to forget me.”
Liam reached up and ran his hand through Grady’s mane, fingers disappearing into the auburn hair. His fangs were bared, brow furrowed as he rumbled angrily in his chest.
Liam’s heart was racing. He shouldn’t—couldn’t—be feeling this way. Not about Grady, even if he was so much like Dante.
But the heart wanted what it wanted.
And Liam wanted to kiss the lion man.
He leaned forward and—
“Cut!”
Josy blinked.
Mason groaned as he stepped back, his face contorting underneath heavy makeup. “What was wrong with that one? We were doing fine.”
The crew started moving around Quincy, who stood off near a tree, frowning down at one of the cameras. They weren’t that far from the house, and as a bell rang, Josy could hear people starting to move about and talk.
“It was great,” Quincy muttered. “It’s just… time to break for lunch. I know how you get when you haven’t had your protein powder.”
“Whatever,” Mason muttered. “I’m going back to the house to warm up. I’m freezing my ass off out here. Someone get me an umbrella!” He stalked off through the trees, a hapless crew member struggling to keep an umbrella over his head.
Mason wasn’t wrong; it was cold today. And there was a slight drizzle coming down, which made things worse. November in the Oregon mountains wasn’t exactly the best time to have an outdoor shoot. But Josy was an artist, and he knew that sometimes one must suffer for their art. Van Gogh had cut off his ear. Beethoven had been an alcoholic. Georgia O’Keefe had seen vaginas everywhere.
Josy could stand a little rain.
The true suffering, of course, came from the fact that today was supposed to be the first time he kissed Mason Grazer.
Mason who was in lion makeup.
Beethoven had nothing on Josiah Erickson.
They’d been at this one scene for two days now. Which, to be fair, wasn’t anything new; Quincy was nothing if not a perfectionist. But if it continued on, they were going to get behind schedule. The We Three Queens were ready to play their parts and were supposed to be on set this morning, but after yesterday, that had been delayed. Oh, they were still ready and in their costumes (for the most part), but they’d done nothing but sit around the B and B. Bernice said it was fine because it gave them more time to practice their lines. Bertha agreed. Betty was less impressed.
Quincy was frowning down at his phone. Josy started to go over to him, but Dee intercepted him, leading him toward the house.
“Is he all right?” Josy asked, looking back over his shoulder.
“He’s fine,” Dee said breezily. “Just director stuff. You know how it is. Stressful. The rewrites aren’t helping matters.”
“Yeah, about that. I mean, I have no problem with it. Getting new stuff at the last minute is a small price to pay for being in a movie, but what’s going on with it? Does he not like his own movie or something?”
Dee snorted as the house came into view. “Maybe someone shouldn’t have told him some interesting ideas on what love means. Or what you have to do to actually show love.”
Josy frowned. “Who told him that? Is that why he wrote out the sex scene between Liam and Dante? That’s cool with me. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to having Mason lying on top of me and grunting in my ear. I mean, Mason seemed pissed about it, but he seems pissed about everything.”
“You really have no idea, do you?”
“About what?”
; Dee shook her head. “Anything. Mason and the Q-Man go way back. They’ll be fine.”
That caught Josy’s attention. “They do? I didn’t know that. How far back?” Then a thought that terrified his very soul struck him. “Did they used to bone? Oh man, that is not something I wish my brain had made me think.” He smacked the side of his head. “Stupid fucking brain.”
“Oh Jesus. Of course that’s where you went with it. No, Josy. They didn’t used to bone.” She paused, considering. “At least I don’t think they did.” She grimaced. “Now I’m thinking about it too. Ugh.”
“Do they still have feelings for each other?” Josy demanded. “Did Quincy break Mason’s heart and then cast him in the movie to try and win him back? Am I nothing but a pawn in their sick and twisted love game?” He blinked. “Wow. I didn’t know I could use those words in that combination. That was like poetry.”
“You’re a special snowflake, aren’t you?”
“My fourth-grade teacher wrote that exact phrase on my report card one semester. So I guess maybe I am.”
“Quincy and Mason were never together,” Dee said as she pulled him up the steps to the house. She stopped before reaching the door and turned to look at him, that evil smile back on her face. Josy didn’t like it. “Would that bother you if they had been?”
Huh. Since he’d only gotten the idea a minute ago, he couldn’t be quite sure. “No? Yes. Maybe.” He scrunched up his face. “If it did bother me, it’d be because Mason isn’t very nice and Quincy could do so much better. But as his friend, I would support him if that was his decision. But if Mason hurt him, it wouldn’t matter if he was wearing makeup to look like a lion. I would still give him a piece of my mind. It’s not cool to hurt people you care about.”
Dee groaned. “I don’t get you at all.”
“I’m a Rubik’s Cube,” Josy said honestly. “I’m made up of rainbow colors, but they’re all out of order, and you need to spin me around until I start making sense.”
“I can’t believe that I actually understood that,” she muttered. “It’s like I got a contact high.”
“Hey, man, I haven’t smoked in a couple of days. If you’re high, it’s not because of—”
She pulled him into the house toward a room that she’d commandeered as her space. He barely had a chance to wave at Casey, who sat in the kitchen in front of his laptop. Josy wished Dee wasn’t being so vague. He felt like she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t be sure what. He’d have to think about it.
“Sit,” she ordered, shoving him into a chair. “I’ll bring you a sandwich. If you move, I’ll break your kneecaps.”
“That was a very effective threat,” he told her. “I actually believe you would do that.”
“I would too,” another voice said. “You can tell she’s serious by the fire in her eyes.”
Dee grunted and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
Josy turned around and was faced with a tree, a cat, and some strange monster thing.
And also Roger in bright red lipstick.
“Whoa,” Josy breathed. “Sensory overload.”
Bernice had leaves glued to her face and pinned to her dark-green wig.
Betty had whiskers. She was also glaring.
Bertha was… something. There were tentacles. And what looked like large elf ears over her regular ears.
“Dude,” Josy said. “You guys look so rad.”
“Thank you,” Bernice said, smiling widely. “I still have no idea what’s going on. I’m just along for the ride. Do you think I’ll win many awards? They have a ceremony called the Razzies. It’s given to stupid things. I want to win one.”
“I don’t know what I am,” Bertha said, “but I’m just going with it. I find it’s easier the older you get.”
“I hate everything,” Betty said. “And everyone. The only reason I’m still here is because Bernice called me an old fuddy-duddy, which I’m absolutely not.”
“She’s the best cat there ever was,” Bernice said fondly.
“Lunch break?” Roger asked, fiddling with Bernice’s leaves.
Josy shrugged. “Guess so. Past couple of days have been rough. But all the other days have been good, so it washes out. I just want to kiss Mason so we can get on with it.”
They all stared at him.
Josy frowned as he thought back on what he said. “Wait, no. Not like that. Dude! Ack! No! Gross! I mean in the movie. I’m supposed to kiss him when he’s a lion named Grady because he reminds me of Dante, who I love.”
“Sounds complicated,” Bernice said. “But I like it.”
“You’re making out with a lion?” Bertha asked.
“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Betty muttered, slumping in her chair.
“I don’t want to make out with Mason,” Josy said as he grimaced. “I’m only doing it because it’s in the script.”
“Which had the love scene written out,” Roger said. “Interesting, don’t you think?”
The We Three Queens turned slowly to look at him. It was quite eerie.
“Come again?” Bernice asked.
“Written out, you say?” Bertha asked.
“Recently?” Betty asked.
Roger’s eyes were twinkling. “Quite. Apparently my grandson got it into his head that a sex scene would be gratuitous and wouldn’t add anything that imagery and dialogue couldn’t. The script supervisor wasn’t pleased, but Quincy told him that sex wasn’t needed to show love.”
“Wow,” Josy said. “That’s deep. My name is Josiah Erickson, and I approve this message.”
“Do you?” Roger asked. “Funny how that works out.”
The We Three Queens seemed to be having a conversation with their eyebrows, something Josy was envious of. Anytime he tried to do the same, Xander and Serge asked if he had something in his eye.
Whatever they were saying to each other, the We Three Queens came to a consensus quickly. “How is Quincy?” Bertha asked.
“Good,” Josy said. “I think. He seems a little frustrated today, but it happens.”
Bernice smiled sweetly. “You two seem to be spending a lot of time together. Why, just the other night, we were out for a ride, and I saw the two of you walking down Main Street.”
“Yeah. It’s kind of our thing now. We go for a walk at night if it’s not too cold.”
“Cadet!” Betty barked. “Front and center!”
Josy stood in front of Betty before he realized he was even moving. Even though she had whiskers, she was still intimidating.
She sized him up. “Are they good walks?”
He snapped his head up and down. “They are!”
“Do you have stimulating conversation?”
“We do!”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“You may sit.”
He did.
“Such fascinating creatures you are,” Roger said. “I think I shall keep you.”
“I’m a tree,” Bernice told him. “I belong to no man.”
Before they could continue, the door opened again and a lion walked in.
Not a real lion, of course. Why, the only lions in Oregon were in zoos or animal sanctuaries.
This was just Mason as Grady.
“I have problems with the script,” he told Roger.
Roger arched an eyebrow. “You don’t say. Please. Tell me why I should care.”
Mason scowled at him. “It was fine the way it was. I don’t know why Quincy is cutting my scenes down. I’m supposed to be the star here. Not Josy.”
“Wow,” Josy said. “Thank you for thinking I’m a star. That’s nice of you.”
“I didn’t—that’s not what I meant!”
“Oh. Sucks. My bad.” Then a thought struck him. “We should probably practice kissing.”
Josy was almost offended by the way Mason recoiled. “Excuse me?”
“I have to kiss you while you are wearing fangs and lion ma
keup,” Josy explained patiently. “Don’t you think we should try it out, just to make sure we get it right? I don’t want our first attempt to be me slobbering all over you.”
“You remember that television show from the eighties where Terminator made out with the Beast?” Bernice asked, staring at Mason. “That’s what this reminds me of.”
“She wasn’t the Terminator,” Betty scoffed. “She was Sarah Conner. She had biceps almost as big as mine.”
“A lesbian icon,” Bertha agreed. “Even if she had sex with men. Ahead of her time, she was.”
“I would have let her throw me over her shoulder,” Roger agreed. “Ron Perlman played the Beast. I did cocaine for most of that decade. But never when I babysat Quincy. Why, that would just be irresponsible of me.”
“I don’t want to make out with you,” Mason growled.
“I don’t want to make out with you,” Josy snapped. “But we have to get it right so we don’t have to keep doing it over and over.”
“This is just like the TV show,” Bernice said excitedly. “Even the undercurrent of bestiality is the same!”
Mason threw up his hands. “Fine!”
“Good!” Josy said, standing up.
“You know,” Bertha said, “when I woke up this morning, I didn’t think part of my day would entail watching Josy kiss a lion.”
“We should move back to Ashland,” Betty muttered.
“Pishposh,” Roger said. “It would seem you have taken to your roles as a Greek chorus to heart. I do believe the world would collapse without your presence.”
“More than you could ever know,” Bertha told him. “We have a history with this sort of thing.” She frowned as she looked at Mason and Josy. “Though I think this is with the wrong people, currently.”