Cass says, “I’m going to let you in on a secret. What Cougar wants, Cougar gets. Come on, we’ll do the interview on the balcony while your dad finishes his calls.” She walks out of the bathroom. Over her shoulder, she asks, “You coming?”
WWCD? “Yes.”
9
Two chairs have been set facing each other. Despite knowing better, I glance over the railing and am instantly sorry when my stomach lurches. “Maybe I should change.” I edge back into the safety of the hotel room.
“You look perfect.”
Cass is tall, with a lean body clad in all black, leather bracelets lining her wrists and hair that practically glows. If she wasn’t a personal assistant, she could be a model, so I’m confident we have very different definitions of perfect. I slide onto a chair. “Should I unbraid my hair?”
“Nope. Your dad wants you to be authentic. It’s part of the hook.”
“The hook?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Cass sits and turns on the video. The red light blinks. “So, Danny, tell me about yourself. Start with your full name, what you like to do, friends, et cetera.”
“Um. I’m Danger Danielle Warren.”
“Danger?”
“My dad’s choice.”
Cass laughs. “Of course it was.”
“I’m, um, sev—sixteen next Friday. I live in Portland, Oregon, with my mom.” What do I like to do? My mind goes blank. I’m not going to tell Cass that my favorite sport is bowling because my coordination, while greatly improved, still sucks. As for friends, I thought one best friend was enough, but I might not have her anymore.
“Danny?”
“Um. I don’t really play sports. Mostly I read...and I like to make three-dimensional, um, box things.” I sink lower in my chair, wishing I could disappear.
Cass puts down the camera. “Danny, it’s okay. You’re still figuring it out.”
But it’s not okay. Cougar Warren is my dad. He deserves better. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m twenty-nine and have no life outside this job. No boyfriend, hobbies, I don’t even have my own apartment. When I’m not working, I couch-surf at friends’ places.”
“And you’re okay living like that?”
“Hell yes! I’m putting in my time, showing Cougar I’m dedicated and that I have the skill and drive to someday direct.” Cass starts filming again. “Let’s just conjure the life you dream of leading. That’s the first step to making it happen. Where would you live?”
“LA.”
“Why?”
“To be closer to my dad.”
“You miss him?”
“He’s super busy.”
“Are you close to your mom?”
I thought we were, in our way, but she’s a liar. “Not really.”
“Cougar told me Samantha made it hard for you two to have a relationship.”
“I... Yeah.” I’m super pissed at Sam but my answer still feels disloyal.
Cass waits a few beats. “Okay. Let’s move on. Not sure which way you swing but what about a boyfriend or girlfriend?”
I blush. “Boyfriend. But I’ve never had one.”
“I was a late bloomer, too. Is it fair to say Gus Price would be your type?”
The question makes my insides lurch in a not altogether horrible way. “Well, I guess he’s everyone’s type?”
Cass laughs. “Pretty much. Last question. What do you hope to get out of this trip to Peru?”
“I want to change who I am,” I blurt, “and spend more time with my dad.” Cass lowers the camera. Her forehead scrunches, as if she’s worried. My insides sink. I should’ve gone for a joke, like I want to be the next female Indiana Jones.
Cass says, “Danny, hon, you’re good the way you are.” She hesitates. “You do get that your dad is going to be working, like, nonstop? Most of the crew and the director are already there setting things up, but it’s a short trip. Your father won’t be free to hang out one-on-one, much.”
“I know. Really, I’m just grateful to be here.”
“You guys almost done?” Cougar calls. “Because if I tell one more reporter how goddamned excited I am to be working with Gus Price, instead of the other way around, I’m going to throw myself off that balcony.”
“Hey, Dad, um, are you sure you want me to actually be in the episode? I mean, I’m cool, really cool, with just helping behind the scenes?”
Cougar roars, “Absolutely not! The world might be most excited about seeing Gus with his shirt off, but I’m more excited about taking a trip with you, buddy, and having you be part of my show. You’re my priority.”
Cass swings the camera toward Cougar. “Say that last part again.”
“I’m more excited about taking this trip with my kid, Danny, than spending time with Famous Magazine’s hottest teen of the year.”
My dad strides onto the balcony and kneels, hands on my knees. I stare into his face and try to see myself there. Besides a few shared freckles on our noses and the color of my blue eye, we barely look related.
“Cards on the table,” Cougar says. “I know you had to fight to come. Your mom hates me.”
“She doesn’t. She’s just...kind of bitter.”
Cougar nods. “Our relationship was complicated. Samantha and me, we were just kids when we had you. My dreams included you both, but she had different ideas. I had to respect that. But I sure as hell regret not seeing you more. Commander Sam didn’t want me there. In the end, I thought that the fighting would’ve hurt you more than helped.”
He’s wrong, but I get it. He didn’t have all the facts. I don’t tell him what my mom did to him, to us. There’ll be time for that later, off camera.
“My biggest regret is that we didn’t have the chance to stay close when you were younger. I hope we can change that, now that you’re old enough to make your own choices.”
“I hope so, too.” I feel two things at once—a surge of optimism and a swell of guilt. Like this is the best day ever, but wanting a relationship with my dad is a betrayal of my mom despite the fact that she’s the one who betrayed us.
Cougar jumps to his feet. “Now, let’s get out of here. I’m starving.”
Cass turns off the camera. I’m kind of uncomfortable that she just taped that conversation. If my mom ever hears it her feelings, wherever they’re buried, might be hurt. “The preinterview stuff isn’t going to air, right?”
Cass looks at her watch. “Crap. We’re late for dinner at Nobu.”
“Isn’t your job to keep us on track?” Cougar ribs. “Did you call the paparazzi, let them know our schedule?”
Cass nods. “Of course.”
I happily scamper off the balcony. “Should I change?” I bought a dress at Goodwill. I’m sure it’s not stylish enough for LA, but at least it’s black.
“Buddy, this one is just for Cass, my agent, a network guy and me. It’d bore you to death. Loads of planning, logistics, blah, blah, blah, then a heads-up to the paparazzi on our location for a photo op with Carmen Fox.”
I can’t help asking, “Is she really your girlfriend?”
Cougar laughs. “Our publicists are stoking that fire. Order whatever you want from room service, okay?”
My heart sags. “Um. Sure.”
“We’ll catch up more on the plane. Promise,” my dad says.
I grin. “Sounds really great. Really.”
“Good. So chill out for now, enjoy the movie channel and room service. Cass will call when we’re back from dinner and we’ll meet in the lobby. Right, Cass?” Cougar ruffles her hair. “I can count on you not to mess that up, too?”
She smiles. “I’m on it.”
Cougar bounds toward the door, but before he opens it, he looks back and winks. “In a few hours it’s off to the airport, kiddo. The beginning of the adventure of a lifetime.”
My nerves jangle. Tomorrow will be the first step to getting back to the Danny before the accident. Someone my dad will be proud to call his daughter. “I can’t wait.”
10
We don’t sit together on the flight to Peru. My dad and Cass have work to do. I get it. But when Cougar walks by me without glancing back it’s a reminder that once we sailed the ocean together but now I’m in a separate boat, desperately attempting to paddle back. What if I can’t get there? Anxiety tightens my chest. No. There will be moments to show my dad who I can be.
It’s my first time in business class, and only second time flying, so once the window shade is down, I watch movies to distract myself from thinking about how high we are; that there are only a few inches of plane between me and the clouds; that engines can fail. I skip the late dinner and have a hot-fudge sundae before snuggling beneath a comforter and drifting off to sleep.
We arrive the following morning—a smooth flight without any bumps except for a light one on landing. Still, I feel a surge of confidence that I didn’t spend the entire time scared. My dad insists on carrying my backpack while Cass films our walk through the Lima airport past high-end stores like Hugo Boss, BVLGARI and Gucci, then the cramped jeep ride along the airport’s mirrored exterior. Our driver turns away from the main airport onto a narrow paved road that cuts through an expanse of yellowish dirt stretching toward distant mountains. Compared to winter in Oregon, this looks and feels like another planet. When we reach a metal hangar set on a small airstrip the driver stops and we get out of the jeep. It’s in the low seventies. The wind and harsh sunlight make my right eye tear. I have the urge to put on my glasses. They have lenses that darken in sunlight. But I don’t. Cougar said my eyes are gorgeous.
The pilot is waiting inside the open hangar. Tan cargo shorts and a white Air Lima Express button-down shirt hang off his bony frame. There are crescents of dirt beneath his fingernails and gray stubble on his chin that matches his white skin’s ashen tone. Watery green eyes are red-rimmed. Is he hung over? I glance around. The place seems kind of run-down with piles of junk in the corners and cluttered countertops. Instantly my palms are damp.
“Mack,” the pilot says, hand outstretched.
“Cougar Warren.” My dad pulls the man into a bro hug, then tilts his aviator sunglasses down, peering around. “Where are my camera and sound guys and America’s hottest teen actor?”
Mack points us toward the tarmac. “Your people are waiting by the plane. The movie star hasn’t arrived yet.”
Two guys are stretched out on the pavement beneath a very small plane’s wing, their heads resting on duffel bags. One has brown skin with black dreadlocks fanned around his head. He’s engrossed in a paperback and looks comfortable in baggy yoga pants and a T-shirt. The other guy is white but very tan, like he spends every day in the sun. A baseball hat covers blond shoulder-length hair and his tank top shows off chiseled biceps. They both look midthirties. I recognize a Dispatch song coming from the small speakers connected to the muscular guy’s phone. As for the plane, it’s splattered with mud, and the propeller looks like it’s drooping.
Cass and my dad walk off to talk, leaving me with the pilot. We wander toward his plane. “Um, how many engines does it have?”
Mack says, “One. But we won’t be flying that high so if we crash, the chance of us all dying is slim.” He laughs, the sound phlegmy, like he smokes six packs a day.
“Have you... Has it... Have you been flying a long time?”
“This is my first time,” Mack says, laughing harder.
“You teasing my kid?” my dad asks.
I jump. He’s on my left side—my blind side. He musses my hair like I’m six, not almost seventeen, but I don’t mind.
Mack nods at a few clouds building over the mountains. “Rain is coming.”
Cougar calls over his shoulder, “Cass, what’s Gus’s ETA?”
Cass pulls out her phone. “He was on a flight from Manaus, Brazil. It was supposed to be here twenty minutes before ours. I’ll call his people.”
“You sure about rain?” Cougar asks the pilot.
“It’s December in Peru. Rainy season. There’re always shit-buckets of water coming down. Forecast is calling for thunderstorms, too. We need to get there and be tied down by 1:00 p.m. to be safe.”
“He missed his flight,” Cass says. She twists her hair into a knot, fans her neck.
Cougar frowns. “When’s he getting in now?”
“Supposedly an hour.”
My dad shakes his head, creased lines between his brows.
Cass’s smile fades. “Mack, can you work with us on this?”
“It’s company policy, not a rule, but regardless I won’t go if the weather seriously deteriorates.”
Hooray! I let go of the stale air I’ve been holding in way too long.
“We can make it worth the risk,” Cass says. “Double the price?”
Mack tips his head side to side. “If the kid gets here before the weather goes to shit we’ll give it a try. But we turn back if I can’t avoid the storm cells and you’re still on the hook for the flight time.”
Cougar fist-bumps Mack. “Deal. Now things are getting interesting!”
I have the urge to run.
“Go meet some of my crew.” Cougar pushes me toward the men lounging beneath the plane’s wing, calls out, “Guys, this is my kid, Danny.”
“Hey, Danny,” the blond guy says. He sits up and holds out his hand. “I’m Sean. Man, your eyes are incredible. They’ll be supercool in the right light. Mud’ll bring them out, too.”
Mud?
Cougar calls out, “Sean’s the best cameraman in the outdoor film biz. Tie up those laces, buddy, this isn’t Rincon.”
Sean is wearing worn leather boots with the laces untied. My brand-new hiking boots are a burnt-orange color. My mom brought them home from REI the day before I left. They were marked down 40 percent because they’re so ugly. They’re tied tight. Double knotted. I make a mental note to loosen the stiff laces when no one is around. “What’s Rincon?”
“It’s a wave spot in Southern California,” Sean says. “In a different life I was a surfer.”
“He’s sandbagging,” the other guy says. “He was one of the top three surfers in the world.” He closes the book he’s reading, The Stand, by Stephen King, and gets to his feet. “There have been movies made about Sean’s ability to ride the giants and survive. He has mad balance.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Jupiter.”
I shake it and say, “Really? Jupiter?” before I can stop myself from being rude. “Sorry.”
Jupiter grins. It’s the best smile I’ve ever seen. He grabs a duffel bag and motions for me to sit. “Don’t be sorry. Last name is Jones. My mom wanted me to stand out. Guess we have that in common. You gonna live up to your name, Danger?”
He knows my real name. “No one calls me that anymore. I’m just Danny. The most dangerous things I do are read and make dioramas.” I cringe. Babbling makes me sound like a total loser. Both Sean and Jupiter are probably wondering why Cougar brought me along.
“Well, Just Danny, it’s nice to meet you,” Jupiter says. “All we know about you is that your name is on our schedule.”
My stomach tightens. It shouldn’t bother me that my dad hasn’t talked about me. Still, it’s a little like I’m alive but, at the same time, a ghost. “I guess there’s not much else to know,” I admit. “My life isn’t exciting or glamorous. I’m a kid in high school.”
“The last time I was in Toronto I saw an exhibit that had some of Louis Daguerre and Charles Marie Bouton’s work,” Jupiter says.
I can’t help grinning. Daguerre and Bouton invented the diorama. “Did you see any boxes that were illuminated on two sides? When it’s done right the scenes change.”
Jupiter grins. “My little sister gets that same lig
ht in her eyes when she talks about a new recipe. Venus is only eleven but she’s gonna be a chef—blending different styles, like Mexican Korean or Thai Cajun, is her thing.” He laughs. “Sounds weird, but she’s rad and so is her food, most of the time. And yeah, the exhibit had a light box of a train traveling through the mountains before and after a crash. Attention to detail, even down to passengers in the train’s tiny glass windows, was incredible.”
“Tell us about the dioramas you make,” Sean says.
His focus makes my skin prickle. “They’re nothing special.”
Sean shakes his head. “Never say that about anything you love to do.”
I glance back to make sure Cougar is out of earshot. “Mostly they’re landscapes. Places my dad has filmed episodes, situations he faced. I cut each element out with a scalpel and then paint them or use textured material. Then I place lost objects in the boxes.”
Jupiter asks, “Why lost objects?”
My face gets warm. “To give discarded items a purpose, I guess.”
Jupiter meets my gaze. “You’re a cool girl, Just Danny.”
Mack wanders over and circles the plane, stained hands running along its side. My mouth is suddenly so dry that when I swallow there’s a clicking sound.
Jupiter says, “I’ve flown in lots of planes that were way more run-down looking than this one. Mack was in the military. He’s been flying for forty years and these Caravans are solid machines. You ever fly in one?”
“I’m kind of not a huge fan of flying.” I hope he missed the nervous warble in my voice.
“Don’t blame you,” Jupiter says. “I prefer my feet on the ground, too. But we’ll get through this flight together.”
My anxiety goes down a notch. “So what do you do for my dad?”
“I’m his sound guy,” Jupiter says. “I make roaring waterfalls, tornados, mudslides, flash floods and wild animals sound as dangerous as they are.”
Jupiter rubs his right arm in the exact spot where my mom jabbed my vaccinations. Maybe they actually hurt everyone. “Have either of you been in the Amazon before?”
The Speed of Falling Objects Page 5