by Cecilia Gray
Megan set her up behind one of the long fold-out tables. Kat scooped pasta salad and a cookie onto each of the dinner trays, sealed them all with plastic Tupperware tops, and piled them in the corner. She was trying not to stare at Izzy. Specifically, at Izzy chatting up the casting director in the hair and makeup tent.
Izzy rested her hand on the short woman’s shoulder and said something that sent her jolly shoulders shaking with laughter. The conversation was five minutes in and nothing but smiles and nods. Kat prepared another tray, trying to quell her rapid heartbeat as Izzy broke away and walked toward her.
“Are you done for the day?” Kat asked. She shook her hair out behind her neck and wiped the sweat from her brow.
“Yep.” Izzy glanced back at the casting director and smiled.
Kat looked between them, biting her lip, forcing herself not to ask.
“You wanna know what we talked about?” Izzy asked.
A smile broke out on Kat’s face. “You’re killing me. You know that.” Izzy pointed at Kat’s chest. “Me? Really?” Kat grinned. “What did she say?”
Izzy shrugged. “Nothing’s a done deal yet, but she was telling me about the location where they’re filming the scene with the extras. The locals claim the house is actually haunted.”
“With what?”
“Ghosts, what else? So…you want to check it out tonight?”
Kat glanced down the street at the house. Its windows and doors were nailed shut with boards.
“Don’t be a wuss,” Izzy said.
“I’m not,” Kat said, trying to steady her voice. “But I promised Henry we would grab hot chocolate.”
“Hot chocolate?” Izzy smirked. “Henry’s going to be stuck in rehearsals. The schedule’s all messed up so they can get shots with the crane. They’re filming out of sequence, and he’s not ready for the final shooting, so the director has him running lines.”
A pang of disappointment hit her. She’d been looking forward to hot chocolate with Henry. She’d been looking forward to seeing Henry and which hat he’d be wearing. “Won’t he get a break?”
Izzy pulled out a compact mirror and smoothed her eyebrows. “Break? He’s lucky they’re letting him breathe. He wouldn’t want you waiting for him.”
Kat fought her disappointment. Her mini-date with Henry hadn’t been a big deal—not enough to even cancel in person. It was just some hot chocolate. Maybe he hadn’t even been serious when he’d asked. And why was she sweating over Henry when Izzy was here trying to get her a role in the film?
“I’d love to check it out,” Kat said. “It sounds like fun.”
“What sounds like fun?” a deep voice asked.
Kat turned around to see Josh wiping fake blood off his brow.
“Checking out the haunted house. You interested?” Izzy asked.
* * *
The sky darkened to midnight blue as the warmth finally gave way to a chilly breeze and chirping cicadas. Most of the crew was still gathered by the food truck, so Kat, Josh, and Izzy stood alone in front of the haunted house on the main street of Bande’s ghost town.
The floodlights cast an eerie glow on the dirt beneath their feet, and strange shadows haunted the nooks and crannies of the abandoned building’s corners.
Josh tilted back his head as his gaze traveled from the front porch to the steepled roof. “Who said it was haunted?”
“Everyone.” Izzy counted off on her fingers. “Megan. Ben. Ceecee. AD. All the people in town. The list goes on.”
Kat glanced nervously back at the main tent, which seemed farther and farther away as night dimmed the world around them. A flutter of wings passed by overhead, and she almost ducked, remembering how she’d passed that black scavenger pecking out the eyes of the dead wolf on the way into town. “Should we have brought flashlights?”
“Flashlights?” Josh harrumphed. “We may as well not bother going in at all.”
“This is a perfect time to go method,” Izzy said. “It’s an actor’s responsibility to gather experiences and feelings and use them in our work. Have you ever been truly terrified?”
“No,” Kat said, feeling weirdly mortified about it.
“So now—if you were ever to, I don’t know, portray an extra being chased by a crazed serial killer, you’ll have something to draw on.”
“You told Izzy,” Josh said, spinning on Kat. “You told her about the extra part?”
“I figured it out myself, thank you very much,” Izzy said. “So lay off Kat.” With that, she walked up the creaky steps to the front porch. Kat followed like a grateful puppy as the loose floorboards groaned beneath her sandals.
The front door was boarded up, so they inched around the porch to the side door. Izzy pulled open the screen and took a deep breath. The dark mouth of the door swallowed them as they stepped inside.
Kat felt Izzy’s firm hand on her shoulder. “This is so creepy,” Izzy said softly.
They walked through a small foyer with short doors and a crooked chandelier. Kat felt colder and clammier with every creak and whine of their steps as they continued further into the darkness.
Josh stopped suddenly and reared up. “What was that?”
Kat grabbed his arm and pulled tight as the three of them clustered together.
“Stop freaking us out,” Izzy whispered.
But Josh pointed to the ceiling, where the chandelier had begun to…swing. Right, left, right, left. It swung in a rhythmic motion that couldn’t have been explained by wind or their walking into the room.
Kat’s heart jackhammered against her rib cage, and her breath shortened. “Let’s get out of here.”
“It’s just a draft from the door opening,” Izzy insisted. “Come on, we have to keep going.” She gestured to the stairs in the corner and walked toward them.
Kat froze—not wanting to continue but too scared to go back by herself. She scampered after them as they made their way, feeling in the dark, until their hands reached the wooden railing of a curved staircase illuminated by a thin sliver of moonlight from a skylight.
“Look! What is this?” Kat kicked her toe against the bottom step. A name was carved into the wood with short, blunt stabs, and there was a different name on each step.
“Victims?” Josh asked.
“Shut up,” Izzy said.
“Well, what is it, then?” Josh said.
“Probably just the prostitutes who worked here. It’s an old madam’s house.” Izzy urged them up the steps.
Kat whimpered as she followed. The stairs protested each step, sending mournful keens through the house. “Did anyone die here?”
“Everyone died here,” Josh said.
A shiver raked down her spine. She could swear the darkness was drawing in and the air cooled and pressed them together.
“The location scout said something about a flu that took down the entire town in nineteen-eighteen,” Josh went on in a whisper. “Their bodies were left here for days.”
The chandelier jerked violently and swung.
They froze. Kat’s breath quickened, as did the rat-a-tat-tat of her heart.
“Josh, knock it off,” Izzy said.
“It’s not me.” Josh flattened his back against the wall behind him. “How do you think I’m doing that from here?”
Kat’s body felt heavy with lead, bolted to the floor, so she couldn’t run up or down. Her face flushed, and a sweat broke out on her brow. “Let’s go. Let’s go! Let’s go now!”
The chandelier swung again. Kat screamed. She felt a burst of energy and dashed down the stairs, dragging Izzy behind her. She couldn’t hear anything but the roar of her own blood in her ears as she made it out of the house, down the porch steps, and into the street. She brushed the skin of her arms, as if she could wipe away the ickiness, and looked back at Josh and Izzy, who were on the porch, doubled over.
“Are you guys okay?” she cried.
But then she realized they were laughing.
* * *
; “You’re not angry, are you?” Izzy pouted at Kat from the other side of the booth. “Here, truce.” She pushed a chocolate shake across the table.
Kat reluctantly drew a sip through the straw. Her hands were still shaking. She set them on top of the table and forced them to be still.
“I really do think it will help your acting,” Izzy defended herself. “You have a whole new range of experiences to draw from.”
“Thanks, I guess,” Kat said. She didn’t know why she was upset. Just a few days ago, she had been begging to be part of the cast-and-crew pranks. Wasn’t this what she’d always wanted? To be part of the shenanigans? To be in on the joke? Only, now, she felt like she was the joke.
She glared at Josh next to her. “What’s your excuse?”
He held up his palms. “You went looking for extra work with Izzy after you promised me you wouldn’t. When she told me she was talking to the casting director for you, I almost lost it. I was out for revenge. But look on the bright side—now we’re even.”
“We’ll see,” Kat muttered. She pressed her palm to her breastbone. “My heart is still racing.”
“That’s just ‘cause of me.” Josh ruffled her bangs.
She slapped away his hand with a snarl then hugged her shake closer and took a long sip. “Note to self: fear makes me a little violent.”
“Good note,” Izzy said. “See? You’re already a natural at acting. You could get cast as an extra on your own, even without me. It’s a good feeling, knowing you could earn it and not just get a part because of your dad or something.”
Kat studied Izzy carefully across the booth. Izzy smiled as she threw her blond tresses into a ponytail as though she hadn’t just said something mean about Henry. Kat felt she should defend Henry but wasn’t sure if he needed it. Izzy hadn’t actually said his name. What if she defended Henry, and it turned out she’d misunderstood Izzy?
The door jingled, and Kat looked up to see Henry walking into the ice cream shop. He’d switched out his cowboy hat for a debonair black top hat and changed into slacks and a dark button-down shirt. He wasn’t in costume, so why was he dressed up?
Izzy scooted over and patted the empty seat next to her.
“There you are.” Henry collapsed into the booth. “Is everything okay, Kat? You look shaken. When you didn’t show up for our hot-chocolate date, I worried.”
“What do you mean, I didn’t show up?” Kat said. “I thought you were in readings?”
“Tell Henry the good news!” Izzy interrupted. “They’re considering putting Kat in as one of the extras—one of the victims you chase down and lock up in the haunted house.”
Henry glanced to Izzy and back to Kat, his eyes solemn. “Congrats, then.”
“Kat just needed a lesson in method acting, so Josh and I terrified her in the haunted house. It will totally help the performance, don’t you think, Kat?”
“Yeah, thank you,” Kat said. “But Henry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Henry’s happy for you,” Izzy said. “Aren’t you, Henry?”
“Of course.” Henry pulled off his hat and set it on the seat between him and Izzy. “A guy could use some notice is all.”
“But I didn’t mean—I thought you were in readings.” Kat looked meaningfully at Izzy so she would help explain that she’d made it sound like Henry would be busy. Kat would never have stood him up on purpose.
But Izzy didn’t catch her signal. Instead, she tossed back her blond curls and pouted at Henry. “Don’t be a spoilsport, Henry. We can get your hot chocolate now.”
Henry stood up, tugging his hat behind him. “Nah, I only have a few minutes before I set up for the next scene.”
Kat opened her mouth to apologize. Why was Izzy making it sound like she’d blown off Henry deliberately?
“See? You are busy,” Izzy pointed out.
Henry knocked his knuckles against the counter and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
A sinking feeling settled in Kat’s chest as she watched him walk away. She couldn’t help but feel as though she’d messed something up between them.
Chapter Four
Josh shook Kat awake the next morning, too. She quickly stretched and stood, assuming she’d overslept a second time and was destined for failure as far as a career in the personal-assistant-to-high-maintenance-actors trade.
“When did you get in last night?” She yawned as she rubbed her eyes.
“They called final shot a couple of hours ago.”
“Is that legal?” Kat mumbled.
“I turned eighteen a few weeks ago,” he said. “Child actors have protections. Not so much for the rest of us.”
She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t point out that she wasn’t yet eighteen, but that thought was interrupted by the fact that she couldn’t remember Josh having celebrated his birthday at the Academy. At least not that she knew of. Had he turned eighteen all by himself?
“You getting up?” Josh asked, staring down at her.
She shook herself and peered out the window—it was still dark. The illuminated screen on her phone displayed 5:00 AM—a full hour before she had set her alarm. She was relieved she hadn’t overslept again but couldn’t figure out why she was awake.
“Do you need something?” She took in Josh’s sweatpants and T-shirt. “Are you running in the dark?”
“My call time is earlier today.” He pushed his earbuds into his ears. “So is yours.”
Kat frowned then ran after him. “Wait. Call time? Does that mean—?” But once again, Josh broke out into a sprint as soon as he hit the door and was off into the desert before she could get an answer. She searched around for a list of her tasks for the day and finally found it by the kitchen sink:
Find Ben.
* * *
She was a jumble of nerves by the time she dressed in a green pullover dress and walked outside to tent city. It was still dark, but the floodlights cast an eerie glow over the set and tents. The crane had been maneuvered to the middle of Main Street, and the crew was laying tracks alongside it where she guessed they would set up a second camera on wheels.
Ben stood behind “video village”—what the crew nicknamed the area full of canvas chairs and playback screens—with a clipboard tucked against his chest. He yelled into his walkie.
“We’ve got two hot points when the dolly track goes up the stairs. Can we remove the railing to get a cleaner shot?” He sighed. “Get me someone from the historical society. I need permission to remove the railing, then. Yeah, I know it’s a long shot.” His moustache perked up when he saw Kat, and he waved her over.
“Hi, Ben,” Kat said a little too fast for five in the morning. “Josh told me—”
He held up his hand to silence her, handed her a pile of papers and a pen, and pointed to the signature line on the bottom. “I only have the day players for a couple more hours, so I need to get permission ASAP,” he said.
Kat saw it was labeled as a standard extra contract, so she signed the page and filled in the contact details for her mother, who would also have to give her permission.
Ben reached into his pocket and handed Kat another piece of paper then turned away, still barking into his walkie. “Yes, yes, wake him up! He’s the president of a small-town historical society, not the president. We won’t get fired over it.”
Kat glanced down. The piece of paper was rectangular, about half the size of a standard printed page. The same type of sheet she had seen Ben hand to Josh and to the other cast members every day since her arrival.
Her hands shook as she read the call sheet with her name at the top:
Evil Eye Productions
Los Angeles, CA
Kat Morley Call Sheet
Date: December 19
Unit Call: 5:30 AM
She skimmed over a list of names of the directors and producers as well as their mobile contact numbers until she found more detailed information about her call:
Call On Location/Makeup-Hair-Wardrobe 5:30 AM
Call On Location/Makeup-Hair-Wardrobe 9:30 AM
Scene 49 Set: Haunted House 10:15 AM
Kat had never read a call sheet before. She drank in every detail and drew her fingers over the printed letters, over the curves and letters of her name. Izzy had done it!
With a silent squeal and not-so-silent stomping of her feet, she hugged the call sheet to her chest. She remembered Izzy’s cautionary tale—that she had been cut from her first scene as an extra—but those thoughts were replaced by happier, more optimistic ones. That she would end up in the final cut of the film. That she’d be able to point to her face on a screen. Her mom would flip.
She knew she was supposed to be at one of the three tents that made up hair, makeup, and wardrobe, but she had to do one thing first. She ran back to her and Josh’s shared trailer and called her mom—at least Arizona’s time zone was later and her mom, a notorious morning person, would already be awake.
“Is everything all right?” her mother said when she picked up the phone. She shouldn’t be surprised—her mom could tell time and knew Kat was not a morning person.
“Mom,” was all Kat could say before she was overwhelmed with happiness.
“What is it, Kat?” She heard clanging—her mom likely putting down one of the saws she used to break through sedimentary rock. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s perfect.” Kat gave her the good news, barely trusting the words as they spilled from her mouth in short exclamations. “I can’t believe it, Mom.”
“I can,” her mom said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have let you go—not for Christmas—not for anything less than knowing you would make your dreams come true.”
Kat’s arms ached with wanting to hug her mother. Sometimes at the Jane Austen Academy it seemed like the other students forgot they had parents. They were so used to boarding school life—they were independent. But Kat secretly missed her mother every day. It was also part of why she tried so hard. If she was going to be away from her mom, she had to make it worth it. She had to make her dreams of being a star a reality.