Action!

by Carolyn Keene

  “It’s just such a big responsibility,” I told her. “The film and the cameras are expensive, and the sets are expensive, and the salaries for all the crew members are expensive. Plus, after the rough beginning this movie had, with Herman Houseman’s sabotage, everyone is working their hardest to make sure the final film is terrific.”

  “And you think that if you do a bad job, you’ll let them all down,” Hannah said. “Now I understand.”

  “Understand what?” I asked.

  “Why you’re so afraid.” Hannah reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re not nervous about your acting talent. You’re afraid of disappointing people—the director and the other actors and the crew.”

  I frowned. Could that really be the reason?

  “Nancy, being afraid just isn’t part of your personality,” Hannah said. “But wanting to do a good job—that’s your personality. Whenever there’s a wrong, you want to right it. That’s why you got George and Bess and Mrs. Fayne and Harold Safer involved in Stealing Thunder. Because the movie would have fallen apart without them, so you stepped in and found people to do the jobs that needed to be done.”

  I had to smile. That was true. Morris had called me his local headhunter because whenever he had a crisis, I found someone to solve it.

  “But you’re afraid that if you do a poor acting job, you’ll be the one creating a problem for the film,” Hannah said. “You don’t want to let them down. It’s a perfectly natural fear.”

  I chewed on my lip while I thought about that. “But how do I get over it?” I asked.

  “Well, first of all, you can believe people when they say you’re doing a good job,” Hannah teased.

  “I always think they’re just being nice,” I said. “But I’ll try to believe them.”

  “And second,” Hannah went on, “I have a little trick of my own that you can try.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  “Did I ever tell you about my cousin Ethel?” Hannah asked.

  I shook my head. “Are you really related to someone named Ethel?” I couldn’t help but grin.

  “You bet,” Hannah said. “Cousin Ethel was the kind of girl who always wanted to be a star. She was outgoing and funny and charismatic, just like you.”

  I blushed. “You’re biased, Hannah,” I pointed out.

  Hannah kept on talking. “So when she got to be a senior in high school, everyone assumed that Ethel would be the star of the school play. And she got the part. At first she was excited and happy. She thought it would be a snap.”

  “And then what happened?” I asked.

  “Then rehearsals started,” Hannah said. “And Ethel discovered that she hated being on stage with everyone watching her. She got nervous and flubbed her lines. She had such stage fright that she hated the rehearsals and she absolutely dreaded the actual performance.”

  “Sounds like me,” I said. “So what did Ethel do?”

  “She went and talked to a wise old woman,” Hannah told me. “Our grandmother, Edna.”

  “What did Edna say?”

  “She told Ethel that there was no point in being afraid of the audience. But Ethel still couldn’t shake her stage fright. So Grandma Edna suggested that every time Ethel glanced out at the audience, she picture the people sitting there in their underwear. It’s hard to be afraid of someone in their underwear.”

  I groaned. “That’s the oldest trick in the book.”

  Hannah gave me a stern look. “Why do you think it’s been around for so long? Because it works. Don’t question Grandma Edna’s wisdom.”

  “But that won’t work for me,” I said. “There’s no audience.”

  “What about all those camera operators and production assistants?” Hannah asked. “Why don’t you try picturing them in their underwear?”

  I had a brief mental image of Mary Lupiani and Pam and Degas sitting around in their underwear. And, worse, Morris Dunnowitz in a pair of polka-dotted boxers and a T-shirt. Before I knew it, I was giggling uncontrollably.

  “You see?” Hannah said. “Grandma Edna knew what she was talking about.”

  The phone rang, interrupting my laughter. Hannah gave me a smile and left the room as I grabbed for the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  “Nance? It’s George.”

  Right away the laughter died on my lips. “George!” I cried. “I’m so sorry for snapping at you last night. I don’t blame you for being mad at me.”

  “Don’t be silly,” George said in her typical blunt way. “Obviously you’ve been struggling with these jitters of yours, and Bess and I weren’t helpful. No wonder you felt peeved.”

  “That’s no excuse, I said. I still owe you an apology.”

  “Apology accepted,” George replied. “Now can I tell you what I was trying to tell you last night?”

  “Of course,” I cried. “What?”

  “I hooked up Jeffrey Allman’s hard drive to one of the computers here at the set. The drive had some his files.”

  “He should be happy to hear that,” I said.

  “I hope so,” George agreed. “But that’s not the best part.”

  “What is?”

  “I may have found a file that could help your dad. Didn’t he say there was funny business with the books at Rackham Industries?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Dad is helping the new CFO look into the discrepancies.”

  “Well, I found a large file on Mr. Allman’s hard drive. It’s a spreadsheet, an accounting file. It’s still corrupted, but I’m going to try to clean it up. Maybe it can help your father figure out what happened.”

  “Leave it to you to rescue damaged files from a burned-out computer,” I said admiringly.

  “I don’t know if I’ve rescued it yet,” George replied. “But I’m doing my best. And now I have a message for you from Morris.”

  My heart leaped into my throat. Was Morris going to fire me after all?

  “He’s standing right here,” George went on. “And he says you’re late. Get over to the set, lazy bones!”

  I jumped out of bed. “On my way!” I cried.

  I threw on my clothes, grabbed the revised script, and rushed downstairs. “’Bye, Hannah!” I called on my way out. “Thanks for cheering me up!”

  “Remember,” Hannah called back. “Underwear!”

  I chuckled as I got into the car and pulled out. I drove as quickly as I could to the set. My scene wouldn’t be filmed until late this afternoon, but I still needed to get there. Today and tomorrow we would be shooting all the scenes that took place in the cave outside town, where Esther found Ethan Mahoney after he was attacked by the mountain lion. The cave was a historical site, protected from developers because it was an important part of River Heights history. With the help of Luther Eldridge, we had gotten the city’s permission to film there for two days.

  The good news was that Stealing Thunder would be shot in a historically accurate location. The bad news was that the tight schedule meant we really had to rush. And because the cave was so remote, there was no parking. Everyone involved in filming was expected to travel together to the site. We were not allowed to drive our own cars because the city didn’t want us parking all over the grasslands surrounding the cave. So I had to get to the production lot before the bus left for the cave location.

  I was so late that I hadn’t had time to practice my lines for the scene later in the day. I said them aloud as I drove. To my surprise I remembered every single new line. Not only that, but I didn’t feel even the tiniest bit nervous. Maybe Hannah had cured me!

  When I got to the set, almost everyone was already on the bus. I climbed quickly on board and slipped into a seat next to Bess. Harold Safer sat across from us. He was already in makeup and costume, and he looked just like Ethan Mahoney.

  “Where’s Morris?” I asked Bess.

  “He went ahead with the camera and lighting crews,” Bess replied. “They wanted to get a head start on setting up. Everything will be such
a rush today.”

  I nodded.

  “Nancy, George told me that you’ve been feeling really nervous,” Bess said. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice that you were having trouble.”

  I gave her a smile. “I think I’m doing okay now,” I told her. “But I hope I didn’t ruin the movie with my nervous acting yesterday.”

  “Don’t worry, Nancy,” Harold said from across the row. “If you were nervous yesterday, I’m just as nervous today.”

  “Why are you nervous?” I asked.

  “Well, there’s a mountain lion,” Harold replied. “An actual mountain lion.”

  I glanced around. “The lion’s not on the bus, is it?”

  Bess laughed. “No. The city gave permission for three vehicles to pull up to the location: this bus, the truck with the cameras and lights, and Jake’s trailer with the lions.”

  “You won’t really be near the mountain lion, Harold,” I said. “The stunt man will do all the shots with the actual lion.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I bet Nancy could give you tips on how to survive a mountain lion attack,” Bess said, shooting me a grin. “She’s had some practice.”

  It was true. One of the two big cats that had been hired for Stealing Thunder had jumped at me during the early days of shooting. Herman Houseman and his accomplice, Rita Clocker, had loosened the door of the lion’s cage. The giant cat had leaped out at me and knocked me down.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “That mountain lion wasn’t really trying to hurt me. He just wanted to get out of his cage, and I happened to be in the way.” I turned to Harold. “They’re trained animals. They know better than to attack for real.” I tried to sound comforting.

  I knew that Harold’s stunt double was used to working with animals, and our mountain lions were well trained. All the attack scenes would be shot with the stunt man, and then Morris would shoot close-ups of Harold’s face with Harold pretending he’d just been mauled. Later the close-ups would be edited together with the stunt man’s scenes to make it appear that Harold was the one getting attacked all along.

  Harold shuddered. “Even watching someone else get attacked scares me,” he said.

  We arrived at the location and everyone piled out of the bus. Julie Wilson grabbed me as I got out.

  “Nancy, I’ve got your costume in the bus,” she said. “I don’t want it to get dusty and dirty out here, so I’ll call you to change into it about twenty minutes before we start your scene.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I wonder what I’m supposed to do all morning. We won’t be shooting my part until much later.”

  “You can come keep me company for now,” Harold said. “Morris says I have to watch my stunt double do the mountain lion scene so that I know what Ethan Mahoney is going through.”

  “That makes sense,” I told him. “Because Morris will shoot close-ups of you afterward. You have to know just what position the stunt man fell in so that you can get into the same position for the close-up.”

  “I guess so,” Harold grumbled. “I’ve never had to deal with wild animals working in my cheese shop.”

  “So I guess the glamour of moviemaking is wearing off a little, huh?” I asked him.

  “No, I love it,” Harold said. “But I couldn’t do it all the time. This schedule is hectic. I haven’t seen a sunset in at least a week.”

  Harold’s two loves in life are sunsets and the theater. It was ironic that his acting debut was preventing him from seeing the sunsets. “So you’re not going to move to Hollywood after we finish?” I asked.

  “Certainly not,” he replied. “I’m staying right here in River Heights. The movies can come to me.”

  I hid my smile as I led the way up the winding trail to the cave. It was a large cave with a wide opening. Right now most of the cave entrance was blocked by camera equipment and lights. If I peered in between two of the cameras, I could just make out Harold’s stunt double. He was dressed in identical clothes to Harold’s, and he had the same fake mustache glued on to his face. His hat was pulled down low to obscure his face.

  “Quiet on the set!” Morris called.

  Everyone nearby stopped talking.

  “Action, Ethan,” Morris said.

  The stunt man, who was playing Ethan Mahoney for the moment, began the scene. He approached the cave from the side and walked slowly in. Ethan was walking carefully because he expected to find the Rackham Gang inside the cave. What he didn’t expect was a huge cat.

  “Action—lion!” Morris called.

  Inside the cave Jake Brigham released the trained mountain lion, a large female cougar named Liz. The big cat loped gracefully across the stone floor of the cave, then leaped through the air toward the stunt man. All I saw was a flash of the cougar’s tawny fur gleaming in the lights. Then the lion’s giant paws landed on the man’s chest, and he dropped backward. Liz fell with him, ending up on top of the poor guy. At a sign from Jake, who stood right off-camera, the cougar bared her fangs and gave a growl that echoed off the stone walls of the cave.

  “Ugh, I can’t watch,” Harold said, turning away.

  But I was fascinated. After growling so viciously, the cat simply stood in place and waited for Jake to give it the next command.

  “Cut!” called Morris.

  “Liz, with me,” Jake commanded, striding forward to the mountain lion. Liz paced over to meet him, and he fed her a piece of meat.

  “Is it over?” Harold asked.

  “Yes, it’s fine,” I told him. “The cat is very well behaved. She’s only pretending to attack.”

  Harold forced himself to watch the next three takes. Finally Morris said we had enough footage of the attack. It was time for Harold’s close-ups.

  “Can the mountain lion be taken away first?” he asked fearfully.

  “I’m going to load her back in her trailer right now,” Jake answered. He led Liz away on her lead as if she was nothing but a big dog.

  “Okay, let’s get Harold into the cave,” Morris said. Pam and Degas rushed over to powder Harold’s nose and make sure his mustache was glued on tightly. Tripp Vanilli, the costume designer, and Julie did one last check of his wardrobe.

  “Think you’ll be able to pretend you were just attacked by a mountain lion?” Morris asked Harold.

  “Definitely,” Harold said. “Just watching those last few takes, I felt as if I was being mauled myself.”

  “Then let’s get going,” Morris said. He led Harold into the cave to show him where his mark was. Harold was supposed to fall to the ground in just the same place that the stunt man had done it. Then he would lie there, looking stunned and petrified. After a few takes, Pam would go in and apply some fake blood and bruises so it would seem that Ethan was beginning to bleed from the lion’s scratches. Then Morris would shoot a few more takes. And after that, it would be time for my scene—the scene in which Esther finds Ethan unconscious on the floor of the cave.

  I figured it was time for me to go get into my costume. I hurried back to the bus, found the garment bag labeled ESTHER, CAVE and pulled out the long dress. I quickly changed in the back of the empty bus. I stuffed my feet into the tight black button-up boots. Then I climbed out of the bus and headed off in search of Pam and Degas. They still had to do my hair and makeup. When I got back to the set, though, Morris was about to start filming with Harold. I just couldn’t resist watching my friend—surely I had time for one or two takes.

  I squeezed into a space behind Morris’s director’s chair, where I had a perfect view into the cave.

  “Action!” Morris called.

  Harold was being extra dramatic today. He gave a little scream, then flung himself backward. He was supposed to fall straight down to the floor, but instead, he stumbled back for a few steps, his face contorted into a mask of fear.

  Then the heel of his old-fashioned shoe hit something on the ground in the cave. Now Ethan’s fearful expression disappeared, and I saw a very Harold-like look of alarm on his face.

 
“Whoa!” he called as he tripped over the rock on the ground. Flailing his arms, he toppled over backward, hitting the rear wall of the cave.

  The stone wall gave way, splitting into pieces and collapsing to the floor. And Harold kept on falling, through the wall and over a ledge that had been hidden behind it. His cry of fear faded into the darkness as he fell, and soon I couldn’t hear him anymore.

  There was absolute silence from everyone on the set. The only sound was the clattering of falling stone.

  Harold was gone!

  Into the Darkness

  I braced myself to hear another bone-chilling scream from Harold. It didn’t come.

  Everyone else was still frozen in horror. I forced my feet to move—I had to get to Harold. I rushed into the cave and over to the deep cavern that had opened up when he fell against the wall. Skidding to a stop at the edge, I peered into the darkness. Where had this chasm come from? No one had ever mentioned such a thing in the historic cave. I couldn’t see Harold, and I couldn’t see the bottom. All I could see were the beginnings of steep, rocky walls … then nothing but black.

  A burst of static finally broke the silence. I heard footsteps running toward me. It was Bess, and she already had her crew walkie-talkie out. “We need an ambulance out at the cave where we’re shooting. Right away—it’s an emergency!” I heard her say into the mouthpiece. There was a crackling sound, then someone answered, “I’m on it.” Bess pressed the button again. “You’d better contact the fire department for a rescue team too,” she added.

  Good idea. I could always count on Bess in a crisis. Unfortunately it would take an ambulance at least twenty minutes to get way out here. And we needed to help Harold now.

  I dropped to my hands and knees at the edge of the cavern and leaned down as far as I could. “Harold!” I shouted. My own voice echoed back to me. “Harold!” I yelled again. “Can you hear me?”

  Silence.

  My heart started to beat double-time. Harold needed help down there, and he needed it immediately. I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Nance, move back a little, okay?” Bess said. I could see tears in her eyes—she was obviously just as worried about Harold as I was. “It’s making my stomach go all whoopsie seeing you that close to the edge.”