The Cannibals

by Grant, Cynthia D.

  But the AD seemed very happy with the pool scene, although I hadn’t realized that the water was so red. I thought it might be better if I didn’t get in, just sat on the diving board and waved et cetera, but the makeup man assured me that the water wouldn’t stain my hair. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t true, but it finally rinsed out. That’s all I need—a blood-colored head!

  The other bad thing that happened is that Ashley has dropped out of the movie.

  I should’ve seen it coming; she’s been acting so strange. But the other day it all came to a head. In scene after scene, she could not get her lines right. Then we were filming some funny outtakes and Ashley was supposed to “fluff” her lines; in other words, make mistakes on purpose. But she couldn’t! Time after time, she kept getting them right! The AD’s AD totally blew up at her, and she collapsed in tears and had to be carried off the set.

  Nothing bothers Shelby, even when it should, and Barbie and Kendall are so easygoing. But Ashley is supersensitive to stuff, and the excitement of the movie has taken its toll. She isn’t even coming to school anymore; she’s on independent study. Her doctor says that what she has is like the opposite of claustrophobia. She’s gone into her bedroom closet and won’t come out

  In the meantime, the show must go on. So they cast, of all people, Mimi Durning, who’d just—what a nut—completely shaved her head, in some kind of protest against fur or leather shoes or something. She handed out these stupid little pamphlets on the set, and she didn’t even spell “America” right; she spelled it with a “K.” What an idiot!

  Then, as if things weren’t bad enough, the AD got the brilliant idea that it would be a great effect if all of the cannibal vampire cheerleaders shaved their heads and burned their hair in the bonfire at the big game rally!

  As you know by now, I take my career very seriously, but I spoke for all of The Girls when I said that shaving my head was absolutely out of the question. So instead they put Mimi in an Ashley-type wig and said that nobody will notice the difference.

  I realize that it’s necessary to make sacrifices for my career, but it’s like my hair is part of me, and I’m proud that I stood up for my beliefs. But now I’m worried that I might get a reputation for being “difficult,” which could negatively impact my future success.

  I wish I could discuss my fears with Campbell, but he practically splits his sides laughing when I tell him what’s happening behind the scenes.

  And my mother and I seldom talk these days.

  This morning she said, “Tiffany, I feel like I hardly know you anymore. If somebody came up behind me with a garrote, I think you’d just stand there.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “What’s a garrote?”

  She wouldn’t even tell me! She thought I was being sarcastic!

  Can’t she see that she’s the one who’s changed, not me? I feel like I could wake up some night and find her driving a wooden stake into my heart!

  It seems like my mother is blurring the lines between the movie and reality.

  Chapter Fifteen

  My life has exploded like a shimmering balloon in the hands of an evil child; my hopes and dreams shattered on the rocks of reality. I’ve been crying so hard my eyes are puffed shut. I could barely see to turn on the videocamera just now.

  But there’s no use putting it off any longer.

  Scream Bloody Murder has been canceled.

  Even as I hear myself saying those words, I still cannot believe that it’s true.

  But it is—and my life has become a nightmare from which I cannot wake up.

  I heard the rumors when I got to school this morning.

  “Did you hear the news?” everybody asked me. “The movie’s been canceled!”

  At first I thought they were talking about Bobby Becomes a Man, the hygiene movie they show to the freshmen, which a group of concerned parents has been trying to ban.

  “No!” everyone said. “Scream Bloody Murder! They’re not going to finish it! It’s canceled!”

  Not being a person to jump to conclusions, I assumed that there must be some logical explanation. Perhaps all of the filming had been completed ahead of schedule.

  But we hadn’t even shot the muddy-football-field scene yet, where The Girls and I wrestle the rival team’s cheerleaders.

  None of it made any sense. My heart began to hammer in my chest.

  Fighting a rising tide of panic, I went directly to Principal Brown’s office. At first he wouldn’t even look at me, but I just stood there, glaring, until he got off the phone.

  “Tiffany,” he sighed. “Can I help you?”

  “Is it true?” I demanded. “Has Scream Bloody Murder been canceled?”

  Then he uttered the word that will forever be branded in my memory.

  “Yes.”

  I burst into tears. “How could you do that?”

  I accused him of trying to ruin our school spirit, pointing out that he’d done everything in his power to stop and then undermine the movie, which would’ve put Hiram Johnson and our town on the map. “How could one man,” I asked, “be so heartless, so selfish?”

  Wracked with sobs, I paused to catch my breath.

  Principal Brown stated that it wasn’t his fault. He explained that there was a “conflict of interest” between the Pepsi company, which had supplied the boys’ football uniforms and owned the vending machine concession on campus, and the Coca-Cola company, which had paid the movie company a great deal of money for product placement in SBM.

  “Not only that,” he added grimly, “both of the soft drink companies are threatening to sue the school board and the district for damages and breach of contract.”

  Or something like that. I didn’t get all of it because right around then I went into shock. My body was numb. I couldn’t even talk.

  Staggering out of his office, I saw the undeniable proof that what he had been telling me was true. By the Snak Shak, rival soft drink employees were arguing in their gang colors: red and blue for Pepsi, red and white for Coke.

  I wanted to cry out, “Can’t we all just get along? Can’t we work together for the red, white, and blue?”

  But my tongue had withered in my mouth.

  I stumbled to the parking lot, found my car, and drove home. I have no idea how; I was practically unconscious. Hours later, when I finally came to, I was lying on the family room floor, watching an old episode of I Love Lucy.

  That was days ago. At first I tried to go back to school, but it’s like everybody is blaming me for what happened with the movie!

  Is it my fault that the pool got permanently stained so that it looks like the swim team is practicing in blood? The movie people promised that the color would come off, but now they say they aren’t going to fix it, and on top of that they’re suing Hiram Johnson, too!

  Even The Girls—except for Ashley, who’s still in her closet—are actually embarrassed to be seen with me! I always knew that Shelby thought that she should be the leader of The Girls, not me. But I never realized that Barbie and Kendall were such fair-weather friends. This afternoon I called Kendall and she said, “I can’t talk now, Tiff. I have to practice the piano.”

  She never practices the piano! Who does she think she’s kidding?!

  Through all of this pain and humiliation, Campbell has been wonderful and a tower of strength. He hasn’t even mentioned the pool still being red. He keeps encouraging me to see the humor—what humor?—in the situation, and telling me that everything will work out for the best, et cetera.

  The other day he took me for a drive to the coast to take my mind off my problems. We had lunch in a tiny little town called Elk, in a restaurant overlooking the ocean. The sky and the sea were a breathtaking blue, and way in the distance, we could see whales spouting. Later, we walked along the beach holding hands, and a playful seal skimmed across the waves beside us.

  Campbell pressed a sand dollar into my hand. “Don’t spend this all in one place,” he said, grinning.

  My e
yes filled with tears. I felt so happy and peaceful.

  But driving home we passed through the town of Manchester, and I was suddenly enveloped in a fog bank of gloom. That’s where my parents are going to open their combination bed-and-breakfast/nursing home. They’ve bought a big old farmhouse with lots of land and chicken coops that can be converted into guest rooms. They plan to call it the Home Sweet Home Home. Or the Home Sweet Home House. Something like that.

  What are they thinking? There’s nothing in Manchester, just the ocean and a post office and a grocery store. You can’t buy clothes or furniture or anything. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a nice place to visit, but how are my parents going to live there?

  Miss Jones dropped by after school today to bring me my homework. She told me not to let all this movie business get me down.

  “So what if it didn’t work out?” she said. “It’s better to travel than to arrive,” et cetera.

  I know she means well, but doesn’t she realize that Scream Bloody Murder could’ve been my big break? Lots of important people would’ve seen me in the movie—directors and producers who would’ve recognized my talent and known that I’m not just another pretty face.

  She said, “Now that the movie’s over, Tiff, you can buckle down and catch up on your schoolwork. You’ve got to take that makeup test, and you still haven’t handed in your essay,” et cetera.

  I tried to look interested in what she was saying, but my head felt like a bowl of confetti. I just can’t seem to concentrate lately. Dean Schmitz keeps leaving messages on the answering machine saying that I’ve got to come in right away and discuss my credits for graduation.

  But that all seems so meaningless now. So futile.

  Since I’ve been at home, I’ve watched lots of TV: game shows, comedies, The Best of Larry Singer, et cetera. But I never watch the news. It is so depressing. Baseball players striking, gas prices rising, that meteorite hitting the Netherlands. All those people, all those tulips—gone, in the blink of an eye.

  And I absolutely will not look at a newspaper. For one thing, they always print a bunch of stuff that’s not true—like what they wrote about SBM and why it got canceled. “An anonymous Hiram Johnson spokesman described the movie production as a ‘fiasco’ and referred to cheerleader Tiffany Spratt as ‘precious and precocious—but ruthless.’”

  Ruthless! Me!

  On top of that, the newspapers ran a really ugly picture of me with my mouth hanging open, like someone had just socked me in the stomach. And they took everything I said out of context, so I ended up sounding like a total nut!

  Now I understand why some stars refuse to have anything to do with the media.

  But sometimes good things come out of tragedy. And I have to say that, during this difficult time, my family has really been there for me. Even my brother. He doesn’t say much, but it was cute today how he gave me the last snack pack of Doritos. That spoke volumes.

  And my father is still my biggest fan—showering me with compliments, bringing me flowers, and playing Sorry with me for hours, to take my mind off things.

  My mother keeps saying I should go back to school.

  “You can’t just lie around and watch TV,” she says. “You’ve got to get back on the horse that threw you.”

  I know she’s right, but she doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a social outcast, to walk through the halls of my own school and know that people are laughing behind my back!

  I got furious at her the day the movie deal collapsed, when she tried to tell me she was sorry it had happened.

  “No, you’re not!” I said. “You’re glad it was canceled! You never wanted it to happen! You tried to stop the whole thing!”

  “Of course I’m not glad it was canceled,” she said. “I could never be happy when you’re hurt.”

  “Yes, you are!” I shouted. “You thought the whole thing was stupid! You said so a million times!”

  “That doesn’t mean I think you’re stupid, honey.” She tried to hug me, but I wouldn’t let her.

  “Yes, it does!” I screamed. “You think I’m stupid! You hate me!”

  I ran upstairs and slammed and locked my bedroom door. She knocked for a long time, but I wouldn’t answer.

  It wasn’t fair of me to take it out on her like that, but I’d never felt so bad in my whole life! In one single day I went from being Miss Popularity to Miss Piranha, or however you say that word that means Miss “Reject of the Universe.”

  That night I couldn’t sleep. I kept looking in the mirror to see if I’d turned into someone else and mistakenly ended up with her life. But the face looking back from the mirror was mine, all puffy and red from crying.

  “Oh, my God,” my mother said, looking up from the newspaper tonight. “I don’t believe this.”

  “What is it?” asked my father. We were all in the kitchen. He was making dinner, my brother was doing his homework, and I was circling programs I didn’t want to miss in the latest issue of TV Guide.

  She continued, “The medical examiner’s office announced today that autopsy tests on former president and talk-show host Larry Singer have been concluded. According to the coroner’s report, Mr. Singer wasn’t human at all, but was in fact a rare strain of flesh-eating bacteria.’”

  “It says that? Where?” My brother actually got up to look.

  I know she was trying to cheer me up, but my mother can be so crude.

  “That’s not funny,” I told my mother. “You shouldn’t make jokes about Larry.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. Hey, did you see this editorial?”

  The editorial, inexplicably entitled “I’m ready for my closeup, Mr. DeMille,” said that it was time to “bury” Scream Bloody Murder; and for the school board to stop blaming everybody else, “including the young lady whose only crime was in trying to make her dreams come true.”

  “Hey, Tiff, that’s you!” my brother said.

  The editorial stated that it was “ludicrous” for the school board to blame Principal Brown for the pending lawsuits, since he was the one who had advised them against permitting the movie to be filmed on campus.

  “It’s about time someone talked sense,” my father said. “Doesn’t that make you feel better, Tiffy?”

  “No!” I said. “Do you think the kids at school are going to read that editorial or care what it says? They’re still going to think I’m a big fat loser!”

  I ran upstairs and threw myself on my bed, the tears pouring out of me in torrents. A gentle hand began to stroke my back. My mother was sitting on the bed beside me.

  “Tiffany,” she said, “please listen to me.”

  “I can’t go back to school!” I moaned. “They all hate me!”

  “No, they don’t,” she said. “Besides, it’s not your fault that the movie folded. Those legal problems have nothing to do with you.”

  “I know,” I groaned, “but if it wasn’t for me, none of this bad stuff would’ve happened!”

  “Look at it this way, Tiff,” she said. “None of the good stuff would’ve happened, either. None of the excitement, none of the fun. And just think—you got to meet Little Tina.”

  “She wasn’t very nice!” I sobbed.

  “No, she wasn’t,” agreed my mother. “But like the editorial said, life is one big classroom.”

  “But I wanted to be in the movies!” I wept. “I wanted to be on TV!”

  “Forgive me, sweetie,” my mother said gently, “but I still don’t understand why that’s so important.”

  “Because you’re famous!” I cried. “People care what you do! You’re not just some tiny little ant! You’re important! And you never get ugly and old! You always look good in reruns! Forever! I don’t want to get old, Mom! I don’t want to just die and people won’t even know I existed!”

  “I know,” she murmured. “It’s a lousy system. But it’s something we all have to face.”

  “But I don’t want to be like everybody else!” I said. “Don’t you understand, M
om? I want to be different! I want to be someone special!”

  “Oh, honey bunny, you are,” she whispered, gathering me into her arms.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I never thought I’d say this, but my mother was right. Everything has turned out fine!

  I’m back at school again and the kids are being really nice to me. Even Mimi Durning! Yesterday I was brushing my hair in the girls’ bathroom and she came in and started putting glitter on her head, and her eyes met mine in the mirror.

  Mimi told me that she owed me an apology.

  “An apology? What do you mean?” I said.

  She explained that she’d never actually thought of me as a real person until the day the movie deal collapsed, and she saw me leaving the school parking lot and driving down the street in reverse.

  “You always seemed so perfect,” she said, “and like you didn’t have any feelings. Maybe I was just jealous of you.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t blame you,” I said.

  We even gave each other a hug!

  And The Girls and I are together again, even Ashley, who’s back at school and has gained ten pounds and looks a whole lot better!

  Sometimes I still feel a little mad at The Girls for turning against me when I needed them most and dropping me like a hot potato. But I realize now that we all have our faults, and that we shouldn’t let a small misunderstanding stand in our way. I mean, we’ve practically been friends forever! We’ll probably be bridesmaids at each other’s weddings!

  I really feel like I’ve learned a lot from this experience and my mistakes.

  The best thing that’s happened is that all the legal problems have been solved! The cola companies decided not to sue our school because it didn’t look too good for public relations. And the movie company has announced that it’s not going to sue us either! They’re going to complete Scream Bloody Murder after all, so it isn’t a total loss!