by Rowe, Brian
“She, uhh…” Brandon started, struggling to make eye contact with the brunette. “That was unusual.” He stood up from his chair, walked to his boss’s door, and knocked.
“Yeah? What?”
Brandon walked inside. “V? Is everything OK?”
“Everything’s fine. Where’s the other one?”
“I don’t mean to intrude, but I think what you just did was highly inappropriate.”
Vivien turned and faced him. “Brandon, I think what you do with your boyfriend every night before beddy-bye time is inappropriate, but I keep that to myself, don’t I.”
Brandon just stood there, shocked beyond all reason. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Will you just bring in the other girl? I have to go soon.”
“No, what did you mean by that? Did you just make a condescending remark about my personal life?”
Vivien smashed her fist down against the table. “I’m not in the mood to argue, OK?”
Brandon tried to raise his voice, too, even though he knew he could never reach the decibel levels of his boss. “What’s your deal, V! Did you just enter menopause or something!”
“Brandon,” she said, squinting her eyes, “you are like this close to being fired.”
“Oh, jeez, God forbid. You pay me like a thousand dollars a month. I get most of my money from my parents. I’m working for you, V, because I respect you. But if you start tossing chicks out of your office and throwing homophobic remarks my way, I’m out of here! You understand me!”
Brandon had never been this blunt and articulate before. Vivien took a seat and pointed her eyes at the ground. “You’re right. You’re totally right. I was out of line.”
“Can you tell me what’s wrong? I know you, V. I know something’s up.”
“I’ve had a rough day.” She smiled at him. “You’re a good kid. I’m sorry for what I said. You can bring your pretty little boyfriend around here anytime.”
“Gee, thanks.” He walked out of the office. “You want to see the other one? She’s surprisingly still here.”
“Bring her in.”
Vivien blew her nose with a Kleenex as the brunette walked in, a calm and assured look on her face.
“Hello Ms. Slate.”
“Please, come in,” Vivien said. “Sorry about the screaming.”
“It’s all good. Less competition.”
“Ha! I like you already.”
The brunette handed Vivien her resume and sat down in the chair facing her.
“What’s your name, honey?”
“Alyson.”
“Alyson what?”
“Baumgartner.”
“Well,” she said, looking over her resume, “I think you’ll definitely fit in here.”
“Cool. I could start today.”
“Fantastic.”
“What projects are you working on at the moment?”
“We have a few, actually. Brandon can fill you in on everything.”
“OK,” she said. “Do you want me to start now?”
“Sounds good to me. Welcome to the team.”
Vivien put her hand out. Alyson looked at it like it was a ticking time bomb ready to explode.
The casting director started laughing. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”
The intern laughed along with her. She shook her hand and made her way toward the door. “Thank you, Ms. Slate. This internship means the world to me.”
“Please,” she said, “call me Vivien.”
---
An hour later Vivien was standing in the office hallway, pacing back and forth, her cell phone shoved up against her right ear.
“Hello? Yes, I want to talk to my son, please. I know he’s in class. Just pull him out for a quick second. No, it’s not an emergency. I just need to talk to him.”
She paced some more, moving farther away from her casting office. She looked in a room to her right to see a young girl with glasses drawing on a large canvas.
“Gavin, it’s Mom,” Vivien continued. “Yes, everything’s OK. I just wanted to let you know I’m going to pick you up a little early today. We have some things we need to talk about. OK? I’ll see you in a bit.”
She put the phone in her pocket and turned around. Her eyes didn’t catch the Golden Retriever standing in the middle of the hallway beneath her feet.
Her left foot touched the animal first. She tried to balance herself with her right leg, but it was no use. She put her hands out but still managed to strike her forehead against the hardwood floor.
“Owww…”
Vivien watched as the dog meandered down the hall toward his owner, whoever it was. She sat up and looked around to make sure no one had seen her stumble. She felt pain immediately, that much she knew. But she didn’t want to be embarrassed, either.
“Are you all right?” she heard a man ask behind her.
The disappointment that someone had in fact seen her fall overwhelmed her way more than the pain.
“Let me help,” the man added.
She turned to her left and tried to make out the man’s face. Everything was going blurry.
“Are you,” Vivien started, “is there someone there?”
The last thing she saw before she blacked out was a head of hair as white and long as a snow-covered river.
---
At first she thought she was rubbing the palm of her hand on a giant boner pointed sideways. When she came to and opened her eyes, she realized the feeling was a stiff candy bar shoved into the depths of a pair of jeans.
She looked up. A man she had never seen before was smiling.
“You’re awake. Wonderful. I was about to call an ambulance.”
“What happened? Where am I?”
“You’re in my office,” the man said.
Vivien sat up in a chair and looked around the room. A large canvas and a stool were in the center, and large, framed posters of classic animated films hung from the red-painted walls.
“How long was I out?”
“Only a minute or two. I put a band-aid on your forehead. I think you’ll be all right, if I do say so.”
“Band-aid?”
“See for yourself.”
He pointed to a small mirror near his canvas. She got up and walked over to it, confused as to why a grown man would have a mirror installed in his office.
Maybe he and Brandon are friends.
“You hit your head pretty hard,” he said. “A few inches to the right, you might’ve really hurt yourself. How are you feeling?”
She turned to him and smiled. “I think I’m OK. I’m a little lightheaded.”
“What’s your name?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead she found herself gazing at the posters around the room. Gavin never liked cartoons, so she hadn’t made a point to ever watch them.
Vivien started brushing her right index finger against a framed poster of Pinocchio, but a pair of strong hands pulled her away immediately.
“Please don’t touch that.”
“Oh. Sorry.” She put her back to the wall. “How can I re-pay you?”
“You can start by telling me your name.”
“It’s Vivien.”
He smiled, and she took her first good look at him. She figured he was around her age, maybe a year or two older. She liked his long, hippie-like white hair, and his thick, similarly colored beard. She was still in a daze and could barely make out his face, but she delighted in listening to his voice.
British guys make me wet.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “Did you grow up in America?”
“Moved from the UK to Sacramento when I was six. Have been in Los Angeles for most of my adult life.”
“I see.” She turned toward the door. “Well, anyway, I have to go.”
“Must you go so soon?”
“I have to pick up my son from school.”
“Oh? You have a son?”
“Yes.”
&nbs
p; “Are you married?”
She closed her mouth as soon as she opened it. She stared at him like she was carrying a terrible secret.
He put his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry. None of my business, really.”
“No, it’s just, things are a little complicated right now.”
“Oh. Well I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you. It was nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Vivien.”
She walked out of the office and put her hands over the top of her head as she walked down the hallway. She took her cell phone out of her pocket to make another call.
Vivien didn’t realize until she got to her car that she had forgotten to ask for his name.
Oh, well. Maybe I’ll see him around.
-14-
“Where are we?”
She didn’t answer. She kept her eyes on the road.
Gavin turned to her. “And what happened to your forehead? It’s getting all blue and stuff.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Thanks. You’re a sweetheart.”
“And most of all, why did you bring Buster with us?” Gavin looked in the back seat to see his dog panting.
“I needed to get him out of the house,” Vivien said. “He’s your dog, after all.”
“I don’t think I understand.” He looked out the passenger side window to see nothing but desert. “I don’t recognize this road. Oh my God, you’re getting rid of me, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“You’re sick of me. You’re gonna dump me in the middle of nowhere and never look back.”
Vivien pulled the car over to the side of the road. The sun was starting to set in the distance.
“Gavin, we have to talk.”
“Oh my God! Mom! I was kidding!”
“Gavin, I really hate to have to tell you this but I’m leaving your father.”
He was already crying before she finished her sentence. “Why?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Tell me!”
“Gavin, please.”
“It’s so unfair. All my friends’ parents are divorced.” He hit the passenger side window with the side of his right hand. “I thought you and Dad were different! You and Dad seemed fine!”
“I thought so, too, up until recently.”
Gavin covered his face with his hands and started letting the tears fall. His mouth was open as wide as she’d ever seen it. Drool started falling to her car floor.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“You’re sorry?” He put his arms over his head and really opened his mouth wide for what was coming next: “FUUUUUUUCK!”
He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him before Vivien could say another word. She got out and followed him along the dirt path next to the two-lane road.
“Gavin! Come back here!”
“No!”
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here!”
“Goddammit!” Vivien started running. When she caught up to him, she tackled him to the ground.
“Get off me!” he shouted.
“Get back in the car!”
“No!”
“Gavin! I swear!”
“Make me!”
Vivien slapped her son hard in the face. He started crying again.
“Get up, damn it! Stop being such a baby!” Vivien pulled him up with all her strength and started dragging him toward the car. Gavin screamed and tried to pry himself out of her grasp.
A large black truck sped down the road past them. The driver inside was surveying the commotion.
Keep driving, asshole.
The guy slammed on his brakes and rolled down the passenger window.
“Hey,” he said, with a thick southern accent. “Hey, is everything all right out here?”
“Everything’s fine, mister.”
“Is that boy all right?”
“He’s my son. Just keep driving.”
“Look, ma’am. I don’t want to cause any trouble.” He appeared to be missing a few of his front teeth.
“Then don’t.”
She made it to her car and pushed Gavin into the passenger seat. He had finally started calming down.
The man in the truck was still just sitting in the middle of the road.
Vivien raised her middle finger. “Take a picture, you prick! It’ll last longer!”
The man honked his horn and drove away.
---
When they pulled up to the hotel, just a few miles north of Valencia, the day had turned to night, and the warm air had finally cooled to a manageable temperature. Gavin looked to be in a daze.
Vivien noticed she still had her sunglasses on. She took them off and tossed them in the back seat. “OK. We’re here.”
“Where?”
“First place I thought of to stay for the night. I cast a movie up here a while back, and I got to know the manager pretty well. He said next time I was up in these parts I could stay here for free.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Year and a half ago, maybe?”
Gavin shifted in his chair and started snapping out of his lugubrious demeanor. “How do you know he isn’t dead?”
“Now that’s a pleasant thought,” she said. “The guy was younger than me.”
“Yeah? What did he look like?”
“He was short. Scarred face. Had kind of a foul odor.”
“Now that’s a pleasant thought,” Gavin replied.
“Smart ass. Come on.”
They got out of the car and jumped to the muddy dirt that made up most of the motel parking lot. Vivien felt a tussle from behind and thought a rattlesnake was preparing to attack her leg. She turned and saw the biggest tumbleweed in history bounce over her car and on down the road.
The check-in area was bare and quiet. A generic radio station was playing 90’s soft rock. Shawn Colvin’s “Sunny Came Home” brought Vivien back to the hospital bed she had given birth to Gavin in. There had been a lot of Shawn Colvin on the radio that day, as well as Celine Dion and Alanis Morissette.
She rang the bell. There was no movement.
Gavin looked up at his mom. “Maybe they’re all dead. Maybe we can choose any room we want tonight.”
She studied her son with grave concern. “You should start writing horror books. Make some money for the crazy shit that goes on in your head.”
“Crazy but useful.”
“Useful how?”
“Watch this.” He jumped up on the check-in counter and started pounding his fist against the bell. “Help! Help! Somebody! My mom just fainted! Please come quick! Helllllllllp!”
A concerned Chinese man came rushing to the counter. “Call the police? Everything OK?”
Gavin jumped off the counter and smiled up at his mom. “See?”
She looked at him suspiciously. “How’d you know I fainted today?”
“What?”
Vivien shook her head and turned to the confused Chinese man. “Excuse my kid, here. I’m fine. I was just wondering if Carl still worked here?”
“Carl?” the man asked, as if he had never heard the name before.
“Yes. I stayed here a while back, and he said if I ever needed a free room for the night, I could stop in.”
“Sorry, Miss. Don’t know Carl.”
Miss, not ma’am. I like this guy.
“Do you have a manager?”
“I am manager.”
She took a step closer to the counter and started tapping her fingernails against the silver ashtray sitting next to the bell. “Well, do you think you could give me and my son here a free room for the night?”
“Ninety-nine dollars. One night.”
“Ninety-nine dollars? Carl promised me free!”
“Sorry, that’s final,” he said, doing his best to evade Vivien’s eyes.
A younger Chinese man, more American-looking, appeare
d to the side of him. “Is everything all right out here?”
“No,” Vivien said. “It’s not.”
“How can we help you?”
“Would you happen to know if Carl still works here?”
He bowed his head and wiped away a sliver of snot that was buried deep inside his moustache. “A shame.”
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“What is it?” Vivien leaned over the counter.
“Were you friends with Carl?” the younger man asked.
“Yes,” she lied.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this. He died last Christmas.”
Vivien immediately looked to her son, who once again appeared to be smarter than he ever let on.
She looked back at the younger gentleman, his face housing a look of sadness phonier than any dramatic performance she had witnessed in an audition room.
“Heart attack,” the man said.
---
Vivien and Gavin stayed the night at a Holiday Inn just two miles away from her Encino home.
Buster slept in between them.
-15-
“It’s just you?”
The director nodded. “Uhh, yeah. I thought you knew that.”
“No, the breakdown said it was a short film, not a student film.”
“This isn’t a student film. I graduated from college a few years ago.”
Nathan put his back up to the front door and crossed his arms. “I’m sorry, but this seems a little beneath me.”
“Did you watch my other films?” the director asked.
“No.”
“You should. You’d be amazed to see how much I can do with so little. Take a seat.”
Nathan sighed and sat down on the director’s couch. He looked up at him. The director was tall and looked close to thirty. “You don’t even have a cinematographer?”
“I like to shoot everything myself. I’m a control freak.”
“I see.”
Nathan looked over in the back corner of the living room. Two water bottles and a plate holding some bananas were all that lined the wooden table.
“Is that your craft service?” Nathan asked.
“Oh, no, those are for me.”
The director set the camera down and walked out of the room.
Nathan glanced over at the front door to make sure it was unlocked. If the director walked in with a chainsaw, he could make a run for it and get out of the house alive.