Run, Kid, Run!

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Run, Kid, Run! Page 2

by Andrew Daddo


  The footsteps of the two men echoed behind them.

  At the top of the stairs were three signs: STUDIOS, with a red arrow pointing right; EXECUTIVE AREA pointing left; and CANTEEN, with an arrow pointing back down the stairs.

  ‘I’m not going back down there,’ said Harrison. ‘I had breakfast. You can starve.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going in there!’ Jess pointed to the executive area.

  That left the studio. It was a triple red zone with stars.

  Footsteps in the stairwell. And that voice. ‘Yeah. I said I’ll get them. And I will.’

  SEVEN

  A red light flashed above the studio door.

  There was a sign below: IF THE LIGHT IS FLASHING DO NOT ENTER. And added in scraggy letters, ‘For Fear of DEATH. And that means YOU!’ Someone had played hangman on the sign.

  Harrison and Jess looked at each other. They could tell from the footsteps that Handcuffs and the other guy were in a hurry. And they were talking louder. One of them said, ‘Gimme a break! This place is massive and they’re just two little brats. I’m doing my best, boss!’

  Jess put her hand on the doorknob.

  ‘But, ‘fear of death?"’ said Harrison, pointing.

  ‘They’re not serious.’ Jess got ready to push, but Handcuffs and the other guy hit the corridor, running straight for them.

  ‘Hey! Youse two. Hold it right there.’ Jess didn’t even have time to get the door open all the way.

  ‘Hey,’ said the taller one, Handcuffs. ‘Have either of you seen Heath or Erin?’ The shape hanging off his belt wasn’t a set of handcuffs. It was a walkie-talkie. He had headphones around his neck and the clipboard in his hand.

  ‘I wish,’ said Jess.

  ‘Oh, right. You’re extras.’ Handcuffs rolled his eyes. ‘Well, you shouldn’t be back here. You should be in the green room with all the others.’

  ‘We haven’t got time for this,’ said the other guy. He looked from Jess to Harrison and back again. ‘Are you two in the funeral scenes, or the wedding? Oh, look, just get in there. We’re late.’ He practically shoved them through the studio door.

  Neither Harrison nor Jess had a clue what he was talking about. If there was a funeral scene, someone must have died. But who? And someone was getting married. Erin and Heath?

  But they were breaking up.

  Jess was so excited she thought she’d explode. ‘In where? Or should we go to make-up?’

  ‘You haven’t been to make-up? What have you been doing? Make-up, yes! What do you think this is — radio? Go. Go. Go!’

  ‘Where is make-up?’ said Harrison. Handcuffs just pointed. Jess and Harrison looked. ‘Oh, right. Duh!’ said Harrison.

  The door said MAKE-UP. It was next to WARDROBE. And between the two doors a man stood with his arms folded and feet apart. Black pants, white shirt with badges. Long black ponytail. And the knife tattoo on his forearm was more gruesome than either of them had imagined.

  Officer Stenson.

  EIGHT

  ‘We can’t go in,’ whispered Harrison.

  ‘We can’t not go in. If we want to be on TV, we’re going to need make-up. Otherwise we’ll be all blotchy and yuck. And orange.’ Jess was talking out of the side of her mouth. She looked like a hooked fish. ‘Now come on, we’ve got to walk in there as if we’re allowed — not the way you are.’ She dragged Harrison towards the door, but his legs weren’t in any hurry to get him there.

  Officer Stenson looked down at them without moving his head. Not only was he scary to look at; he was massive. He seemed even bigger when he put his thick, tattooed arm across the door to make-up.

  ‘Can’t go in.’ He had a surprisingly high voice.

  ‘But, we have to —’

  ‘Move away from the door.’

  ‘We have to go in there.’

  They heard bells jingling. ‘Move back from the door and look away. Look away, I said. Now!’ He sounded almost stressed.

  Jess and Harrison moved to the other side of the hallway and looked at the poster on the wall. Muzza again — with glasses and a mo scribbled on his face.

  The bells got louder until they stopped right behind them. All Harrison and Jess could hear was breathing. The breathing got stronger, and louder.

  ‘Who would do this?’ said a voice behind them.

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘Neither did I,’ said Jess. They turned around. It was the real Muzza! He looked nothing like he did in the poster, and he was short.

  Harrison tried not to laugh.

  Muzza looked at him, but that only made Harrison want to laugh more. The star screwed up his face, lifted a finger and snorted. Something flew out of his nose. ‘Some one will pay for this!’ he boomed and stormed off down the hallway, the bells on his slippers jingling. ‘Security!’

  Officer Stenson looked at Harrison and Jess. He pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at theirs. ‘I will be back for you two. Don’t go anywhere. I’m watching.’

  ‘That would be now, security!’ bellowed Muzza. He was at the end of the hall tapping one foot and tinkling. He couldn’t open the door. No tag. Officer Stenson chased him like a puppy trying to keep up.

  ‘That was close. Let’s go,’ said Jess, and she ducked into make-up.

  Harrison looked right and left, then pulled a pen from his back pocket. There really was no one around, so he blacked out one of Muzza’s enormous front teeth.

  A Big Brother voice boomed down the hallway. ‘You’re busted, kid!’ It came from everywhere.

  Harrison bolted into make-up.

  Jess already had a plastic cape over her and the make-up girl was putting black stuff around her eyes.

  ‘Quickly, quickly,’ another make-up artist said to Harrison. ‘You’re late. They’re ready to shoot.’

  He hopped up into the next seat and got caped.

  ‘They’re going to shoot?’ said Jess.

  ‘And if you’re late, we’ll all get it.’ The make-up girl put black stuff around Harrison’s eyes, too, painted his lips red and his face white. Then she stuck a scar on his forehead. It was like a zipper, from one temple to the other.

  Jess was given the same treatment. Only her hair was teased to stick out, and Harrison’s was gelled to stick up. ‘Whatcha reckon?’ one of the girls said to the other.

  ‘Good. Yah. Royal. Royally good.’

  ‘I know it’s really good, but do you think these guys’ll pass for the other two?’

  ‘Oh, duh. They’ve got that much make-up on, who’d know? Where are Jefffrey and Hannah, anyway?’

  ‘Who?’ Jess’s make-up artist was putting a bit more frizz into her ‘fro.

  ‘Jefffrey with three eff’s and Hannah?’

  ‘Gone. I heard.’

  ‘Royally?’

  ‘Well, they’ve never been late before, so…’

  And I heard a few stories.’ Harrison’s make-up artist had taken the cape off him, but Harrison didn’t move.

  ‘Whatcha hear?’ Jess’s cape was off too.

  ‘You’re done. Wardrobe, quick!’ The make-up artist jerked a thumb at the door.

  Jess tried to hang back to find out what had happened to the others, but the door was shut on her. Through it, or under it, she heard a squeal, an ‘Oh My God’ and a “poor thing'.

  That was enough for Jess.

  The wardrobe guy gave them sheets to wear. ‘Are we dead or alive?’ asked Jess.

  ‘You kids are too much. You’ve been wearing this gear all week and still don’t know who you are.’ The wardrobe guy fluffed his hair twice as much as their costumes.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ said Harrison. ‘So what are we?’

  ‘Are we ghosts?’ Jess thought they looked dead. ‘I think we’re dead. It sure feels like everyone wants to kill us.’

  ‘Oh, Hannah. You’re killing me!’ said the wardrobe guy. ‘Have you caught a cold? You sound different. You, too, Jefffrey, with three “effs".’

  ‘I’m not Jefff —’ started Harris
on, but Jess booted him in the leg.

  ‘Yeah, we’ve got colds.’ They coughed.

  ‘You poor darlings. Stay away from me. There’s nothing I can’t catch. Off you go. Break a leg.’ The wardrobe guy couldn’t drag himself away from the mirror. ‘Be brilliant. And they’re costumes you’re wearing — not handkerchiefs. So don’t snot on them!’

  Jess and Harrison went back into make-up, got fluffed and puffed a second time and were told to get a wriggle on.

  But where? Neither of them wanted to ask because they should have known.

  Harrison pointed out the tooth he’d blackened on Muzza. Jess laughed. ‘Mad!’

  The door at the end of the corridor smacked open.

  ‘There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!’

  NINE

  Harrison didn’t need to turn around to know it was Officer Stenson. And he knew he’d be steaming right for them.

  Before he bolted, he sneaked a look over his shoulder. It wasn’t Stenson steaming up the hall — it was Handcuffs; all aggro.

  ‘Let’s go, Jefffrey. Hurry up, Hannah. You can’t avoid it any longer. It’s time to finish this!’ He spun them around and marched Jess and Harrison back the way he’d come.

  They knew there was no point running. Handcuffs had a firm grip on their shoulders. Down one hallway, through double doors, up another hallway and straight for a flashing red light.

  STUDIO 7: LIVE SET

  Inside it was kind of dark.

  But once their eyes adjusted, the sight took their breath away. It was a real live gothic-castle courtyard.

  There were fires and cobwebs and a massive spinning water wheel without water. They were shoved into the centre. ‘I found them, Director. Finally.’

  ‘One walk-through for the kids. Everyone clear? We walk them through, then we shoot ‘em. First positions, people.’ The guy doing the yelling looked as if he came from a rock band. He was hairy, and dirty — although that might have been the stubble. ‘G’day, Jefff. Hiya, Hannah. You know Fat Tony.’ Mr Hairy-and-dirty pointed up. Standing above them was a tree. A man-tree. They hadn’t even noticed him. This guy was enormous, but he wasn’t fat; he was fit.

  Fat Tony was a muscle-man tree with an axe. ‘G’day, kids,’ he croaked.

  ‘You two are going to be led in here by the Poompas,’ said Mr Hairy. ‘You know how it works. They drag you in and dump you, right?’ He pointed to a big stone slab. ‘Then Fat Tony is going to jump down and come out swinging. And you know what happens after that, because we rehearsed it five million times the other day, right?’ He was nodding so hard his hair flipped about his face, so Harrison and Jess nodded, too. ‘Orroight! Who’s got the Poompas?’

  ‘Don’t worry, kids.’ Fat Tony adjusted the leather straps across his chest. ‘You won’t feel a thing.’

  ‘This is a set-up, right?’ whispered Jess.

  ‘I dunno, but check the fur balls!’ That was what they looked like. Through the door came four furry balls dragging heavy chains. And hanging on was a girl in normal clothes. She pulled back, trying to get away from them, but the fur balls were too strong.

  She looked terrified.

  The Poompas dragged her over to Jess and Harrison. Then they stopped. The girl smiled and she handed the Poompas’ chains over. Harrison and Jess expected to be dragged across the room — but they weren’t. The girl leant in close and said, ‘Now remember, you walk forward and lean back. That’ll make it look like they’re draggin’ you. Break a leg. Or not.’ She laughed and disappeared.

  Mr Hairy-and-dirty started yelling again for them all to hit their first positions.

  ‘Rightio, Jefffrey. Hannah. Get the Poompas to drag you around the courtyard. Two laps. I want to see lots of fighting from you, Hannah. Jefff, you get to scream — again. Once Fat Tony starts grunting, the Poompas pull you onto the slab. And that’s when you get chopped.’

  It was all a blur. Make-up checks. Wardrobe checks.

  Jess whispered to Harrison, ‘They still don’t know we’re us.’

  ‘I know. I’m Jefffrey with three “effs". I must be a total idiot.’

  ‘They got that right. But you’ll be a famous total idiot. We’re going to be on TV! We’re going to be seen by millions of people — all over the world, maybe. We’ll be discovered.’

  TEN

  Once they got behind the back wall of the courtyard, they realised it was all fake. Everything. Even the fire was fake: just cotton wool and coloured lights.

  ‘Camera,’ someone yelled.

  Another voice. ‘Sound, speed.’

  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, act.’ This was a new voice.

  Harrison and Jess looked at each other, but neither of them moved.

  ‘Cutcutcutcut. CUT! Where are the Poompas? Where are the brats? Why isn’t anyone acting? Gahd! Why are you all doing this to me?’

  Mr Hairy-and-dirty came over to where Harrison and Jess were standing. ‘What happened?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why didn’t you get acting?’

  ‘We were waiting for “action".’

  Mr Hairy blew air. ‘I forgot, you guys are pro’s. This director says, “act". He’s an ex-actor. It’s how they are. For them it’s all about the acting, not the action. I’ll give you a shove, if you like. “We’re ready",’ he yelled. ‘And try to look dumber. You’ve had half your brains removed, remember?’

  Jess pointed at the scar on her forehead. Mr Hairy-and-dirty nodded.

  ‘About time. Cameras ready?’

  ‘Camera.’

  ‘Sound. Speed.’

  ‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, act!’ Jess and Harrison were shoved onto the set. They did as they were told and leant backward as they walked forward. It really did look as if the Poompas were dragging them.

  Fat Tony grunted at them as soon as they entered the courtyard. But Jess and Harrison did as they were told and finished two full laps before letting themselves be dragged up the stone slab by the Poompas. Fat Tony grabbed the Poompas and hammer-threw them off the set.

  Harrison watched them fly. They landed right at the feet of Officer Stenson, who kicked them out of the way and started walking over to him and Jess. He looked meaner than ever. Harrison nudged Jess and she suddenly looked really scared; not acting scared.

  Fat Tony picked up his axe. ‘Time to meet your maker,’ he said in a voice so low it must have come out of his boots.

  ‘Not so fast.’ Jess and Harrison knew the voice — but where from?

  Then, they saw her.

  ‘Voluptua!’ yelled Jess.

  And it was. In leather boots, a leather dress and leather headband. She jumped off the wall of the courtyard, all muffin top and girl power and flew through the air, yelling, ‘Unhand my friends!’ and waving a sword that was almost as big as she was.

  ‘These are not your friends,’ grunted Fat Tony.

  ‘Yes, we are,’ said Harrison. Fat Tony looked a bit surprised.

  ‘No they’re not.’ Stenson was in the courtyard now, and behind him were two other kids dressed up in the same costumes as Harrison and Jess. ‘They are not your friends, because these are your friends.’

  ‘Cutcutcutcutcut CUT!’ yelled the director. He had a clump of his own hair in each hand. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘They’re not the real Jefffrey and Hannah. We are!’ said one of the other kids.

  ‘Then who are you?’ said Mr Hairy-and-dirty.

  ‘We’re, ah —’ Harrison started.

  ‘Harrison? Jessica?’

  ‘Mum!’ Harrison ducked under Stenson’s outstretched arm and buried his head in Mum’s chest. The door hadn’t yet shut behind her.

  Jess was spewing. She was hoping for one of those awful movie moments: the ones where the imposter says, ‘I’m the real Hannah'. Then the real Hannah says, ‘Liar! I’m the real Hannah'. And then no one really knows who the real Hannah is.

  Instead, Jess said, ‘But you are the real Voluptua, right?’

  A
nd Voluptua, with her legs slightly apart and her hands on hips, — just like a real super hero — smiled. ‘You bet I am.’

  ‘Can I have an autograph?’ said Jess. ‘And a photo?’

  ‘Got any stickers?’ asked Harrison, coming out from under Mum’s wing.

  ‘That’ll do, you two,’ said Mum. ‘Sorry, everyone. I hope they weren’t too much trouble. They were supposed to be getting a coffee. Weren’t you!’ She turned back to Jess and Harrison. ‘And instead of that, you disappear for so long I have to send Myron out to find you. I was getting worried.’

  Stenson stuck his hands out. ‘I’m such an idiot. You were the kids outside make-up.’

  ‘You’re Myron? And you weren’t trying to kill us?’

  Officer Stenson laughed. He had a nice smile with lots of teeth.

  ‘He was trying to find you for me — so I could kill you!’ Mum was funny, sometimes.

  ‘Well, I’ll do someone in if I can’t finish my show. It’s going to be the hit of the year — if it ever gets finished!’ The director was back in charge.

  ‘Can we still be in it?’ said Jess.

  ‘No,’ said Mum. ‘You’ve been in quite enough, today. We’re going on holiday.’

  ‘Actually — ‘ said Mr Hairy.

  ‘Yes?’ Harrison and Jess both sounded hopeful.

  ‘They’re probably better at being dragged in by the Poompas than the real Jefffrey and Hannah. They look the same as them, so if you like, they could body double.’

  ‘We’re going to be stars,’ said Harrison. ‘First Positions, everyone!'

  The End — and maybe the start of something else.

  About the author

  Run, Kid, Run! is almost a true story. You see, sometimes I take my kids to work, even though they’re not really supposed to be there. For a joke I tell them to hide as we go past the guard house. We all love it because it feels so naughty — even though it isn’t. Not really. But once, we all walked through a door and there was a security guard blocking the way, the kids nearly died of fright. I thought, ‘that would be a cool story. Can you guess which bits are true?

 

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