Until It's Time To Go

by Connie Bailey

  “There’s no one here but Tony and Callie, but if you’re willing to talk, I’ll go anywhere you want.”

  “Tony, I’m going to the RV,” Isaac said.

  “No kidding,” Tony said drily.

  “I don’t need any shit about this,” Isaac said.

  “Whether you need it or not, I’d say you’re going to get some,” Callie said. “Can you blame us? Our favorite grumpy old man is in love.”

  “Who said that?” Isaac replied.

  “You didn’t have to say it,” Tony said. “It’s in your eyes.” He fluttered his lashes.

  “Let’s go,” Isaac said to Colby. “Or we’re going to be eaten alive.”

  “That sounds intriguing, but talking to you is more important.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic. It won’t help.”

  “I’m not,” Colby said as he followed Isaac.

  “It sounds sarcastic.” Isaac opened the motor home door and waited for Colby to go in first.

  “Maybe it’s your prejudiced ears.”

  “My what?”

  “You heard me. You’re so ready to believe the worst of me. I’m not surprised your brain would twist my words.”

  “Is this why you wanted to talk to me?”

  “No. What I want is for you to give me a fair chance.”

  “That’s not really my modus operandi.”

  “You gave Laith a chance after he borrowed a car and ran away.”

  “He’s barely sixteen. You should know better.”

  “All I know is that I’m a better person when I’m around you. Are you really going to deprive me of your good influence?”

  “This is such crap.”

  “No it isn’t. I mean it. You make me a better person, and I—” Colby swallowed audibly. “I love you.” He met Isaac’s eyes. “Okay, I said it first. You have all the power now.”

  “I wish I could believe you.”

  “Then believe me. Give me a chance. If I fuck up again, then you can shut me out. But please don’t let some preconceived notions about actors make you turn your back on me after one little disaster. Please, Isaac.”

  “I promise I’ll think very hard about it, but I can’t give you an answer right now.”

  “Then your answer won’t be the one I want to hear. If you loved me, you wouldn’t need to think about it.”

  “It’s because I love you that I need to think about it.”

  Colby’s eyes widened. “You love me? As in you’re in love with me?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “No, not really.”

  “When Callie told me you’d been in a car wreck, I knew I loved you. And I knew I couldn’t face losing you. In a twisted way, it’s better for me to not have you.”

  “You’re right. That’s twisted.”

  “Could you give me until the end of the production to decide?”

  “I want to spit in your face, but I’ve put too much work into this to give up on it.” Colby shook his head. “My reputation would take a real hit if this got out.”

  “We’re the only two that know about it.”

  “What about Callie and Tony?”

  “They’d never talk.”

  “So… how do you want to play this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been on set before with someone I’ve just broken up with. It’s better if you agree on a few ground rules.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like do we act buddy-buddy, or cool and professional? Is it still okay to make personal jokes? Can I take food off your plate? Things like that.”

  “I’d like the least awkwardness possible.”

  “Then—if you can handle it—I recommend we go the Rat Pack route. We’re cool, sophisticated drinking and poker-playing buddies.”

  “That’ll work. Except for the drinking part. I’m taking a vacation, what our dear Oscar would’ve called an alcoholiday, only he would’ve meant the opposite.”

  “Okay, no drinking… and no pills.”

  “It’s on.” Isaac paused. “I should get back to work.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Colby reached out to touch Isaac’s hand. “Just so you know. You’re breaking my heart.”

  Isaac shied away from the intensity of emotion in Colby’s voice. He told himself Colby was young, and young people are prone to melodrama, especially young actor people. Colby would probably have a new passion by the day after tomorrow.

  “Let’s keep things in perspective,” Isaac said as he gently pulled his hand away. “We’ve only known each other a few weeks and slept together once. It’s not so well-established a relationship that we can’t step back a bit and really think it through.”

  “You think too much.” Colby pushed his hair back from his forehead. “But if you want a cooling-off period, there’s apparently nothing I can do about it.”

  “Then I’ll see you this evening. Thanks for understanding.”

  Isaac walked away and left Colby in the motor home. Colby’s drooping posture reminded him too much of the way Steve had walked out of the bedroom on the day he died.

  THE last image froze, and the lights came on in the editing room aka the chopping block.

  “Well?” Callie said.

  “I’m speechless,” Tony said. “Someone give me a reality check here. Was the Colby Lightner we just watched the same lad who’s been here all along?”

  Isaac looked away from Colby’s image on the screen. “There’s definitely a new edge to his craft. He’s not just acting like Dorian. He is Dorian.”

  “Pretty amazing,” Callie said. “Doesn’t it just make you want to reshoot the earlier stuff?”

  “Maybe not everything,” Tony said. “But yeah. There are a couple of key scenes that I wouldn’t mind another take of. We’d better gear up, though. We don’t have Colby for that much longer.”

  Isaac glanced at Callie.

  “It’s in Colby’s contract,” Callie said. “He took this role with the understanding that his part in the filming would be done before principal shooting started on his next film.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Isaac said. “It makes sense from his standpoint, but how can we guarantee something like that?”

  “We can’t, as you well know,” Callie said. “It just means that when he has to go, we grit our teeth and graciously wish him good luck in his new endeavor, even if we still need him.”

  “My admiration for your gambling spirit continues to grow,” Isaac told Tony.

  “I have faith,” Tony said. “This is the film I was meant to make. It’s the film I was meant to work on with you. I’ve never doubted that we’d finish it.” He took Callie’s hand in a rare display of public affection. “We’ve got the world’s best AD.”

  “Which is why I’m telling you that, if you’re through looking at the dailies, you’re wanted in Basil’s studio.”

  Tony got to his feet. “No rest for the wicket,” he said.

  “You mean wicked?” Isaac said.

  “No. I’m British. We play cricket.”

  “What’s that got to do with—?”

  “Don’t,” Callie said. “It’s the beginning of a pointless comedy routine that no one has time for right now. Shoo, Tony.”

  “I should probably go too,” Isaac said.

  “Hang on. Have you had lunch yet?” Callie asked and waited for him to shake his head. “Me either. Eat with me?”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  “Why don’t you clear a space on the work table while I grab a couple of things?”

  Callie returned with a large insulated bag that yielded several plastic containers and a thermos, along with disposable plates, cups, and utensils. “I pack my lunch most days,” she said as she opened lids. “And I always pack enough for Tony, just in case. Dig in.”

  “Thanks. Looks great.” Isaac filled a plate while Callie poured him a cup of tea.

  “I’m learning to cook healthier. How’s that for exciting?” Callie took a sip of her
tea. “I am getting good at Thai cuisine, though.”

  “I’d say so.” Isaac put another forkful of pad thai in his mouth.

  Callie offered him the jar of sweet chili sauce, and he waved it away. “This wasn’t a random lunch invitation,” she said. “I’m wondering how you’re doing.”

  “It’s nice that you care, but there’s no reason for you to worry about me.”

  “I know, but I do. I have since Mr. Michaels died. It’s weird, but I’ve always felt responsible in some way. Like there was something I could’ve done that I didn’t do.”

  “There’s no reason at all for you to feel that way. It was a stupid accident. You and your mom did all you could for Steve.”

  “I was being such a little princess that morning,” Callie said. “Mom kept yelling up the stairs that we were going to be late, but I ignored her. There was this boy that I liked, and it was so important that I wear exactly the right outfit to school. I don’t know how many times I changed. Mom sent Denver up to get me, and when I came downstairs, she made me change again. She told me I wasn’t going to dress like some pop tart Lolita. I was humiliated. I didn’t know who this Lolita was, but I knew from Mom’s tone that she was a slut. I pouted around until she threatened to take my phone if I didn’t get in the car right away. I know I’m making a short story long, but I’ve always felt that if I hadn’t been such a brat, we’d have found Mr. Michaels sooner, and maybe he’d still be alive.”

  “If you want my forgiveness, you have it. You were twelve, and you didn’t have a crystal ball.”

  “I still feel bad about it, and I’ve always wondered about you, you know, how you were doing and stuff like that.

  “I’m glad you called me about the job,” Isaac said.

  “Really?” Callie gave him a tentative smile.

  “Really. I resisted at first, but working on this production has been a good thing for me.”

  “Good. I’d hate to think about you grieving for the rest of your life. Not saying you shouldn’t ever think about him, just don’t let his memory be a shadow on your life or anything. That’s not what he was when he was alive. He made you happy. Even as a kid I could see that. At the barbecues, you two were always standing together and smiling like you meant it.” She cocked her head to the side. “I saw you smiling like that again recently.”

  “I’m not going to talk about this. It’s a personal matter.”

  Callie held up her hands. “Backing off now. But if you ever do want to talk, I’ll listen.”

  “You remind me a little bit of my friend Janelle, Laith’s mom.”

  “That sounds like a compliment.”

  “It is. Can I have some more of that curry?”

  “Don’t be shy. I make it by the bucket.”

  Isaac chewed and swallowed. “This is really good.” He took another bite. “I’ve been meaning to ask you if your mom still lives in Florida.”

  “Yeah. She remarried, and they live in Coconut Grove, or The Grove as they call it.”

  “Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought she was different after the accident. She was… less outgoing, I guess.”

  “She got quieter,” Callie said. “And she’d get this look on her face, like she was trying really hard to remember something. I wanted to yell at her. What? What the hell are you thinking about? Because it wasn’t us—her family. Sometimes she’d be like her old self, but it never lasted for long. If I had to guess, and believe me, I have, her general lack of caring is why Dad divorced her.”

  “Do you see him much?”

  “Never. He’s lived in Hong Kong for about seven years and shows no desire to leave.”

  “How’s your brother?”

  Callie sighed. “Denver’s a worry. Graduated two years early and got himself declared an emancipated minor. The last time I saw him, I was bailing him out of a shoplifting charge. The cops were really nice about it. When I confronted Den and told him how lucky he was to not be in jail, he told me that if the cops knew how much shit he’d stolen, he’d be in prison. His tone was so nasty. I asked him what I’d done to him to deserve this attitude.”

  “Mistake,” Isaac said.

  “Yeah. And no. It was like an abscess overflowing, a veritable volcano of sickness.” Callie looked up. “I’ll stop here because I don’t have his permission to talk about it, but I can tell you he felt like we’d all forgotten about him after Mr. Michaels died, and nothing he did got our attention back.”

  “Except for getting into serious trouble.”

  “Yep.” Callie sighed again. “He’s so freaky smart. If he’d just make the effort to pull it together, he’d rule the world.”

  “He’s not much older than Laith, is he?”

  “He just had his nineteenth birthday. He hasn’t been a minor for a while, and that seems to have cut back on his criminal activities. I’ve haven’t had a call from the police in a year.” She looked speculatively at Isaac. “Do you think everyone has someone they love who’s a fuck-up?”

  “I’d say the odds are good.”

  “Denver thinks I’m the one who’s messed up.” Callie finished her tea. “I work in an industry rife with corruption that produces nothing of note or value, according to him.”

  “In a lot of cases, he has a point.”

  “Not in this one.”

  “No indeed. Tony Kendall’s Dorian Gray is a work of stupendous genius that will be an instant classic and stand as an example of artistic perfection to future filmmakers.”

  “You got that right.” Callie started closing containers. “You want to take any of this with you?”

  “I wouldn’t mind taking that red curry. If I boil up a little rice, I’ve got dinner covered.”

  “It’s all yours.” Callie pushed the container toward Isaac. “Must feel pretty good to know the script is finished—aside from the inevitable rewrites.”

  “Yeah. When you and Tony told me what you had in mind, I had major doubts, but I couldn’t turn down the money. Now here we are with most of a movie in the can.”

  “And a damned good one at that.”

  “I believe I’ve already given my opinion.”

  Callie finished packing things away and closed up the bag. “Did I ever tell you I asked Mr. Michaels why he was gay?”

  “No, I’m sure I’d remember something like that.”

  “You were watching the little kids in the pool, and he went inside to use the bathroom. When he came outside, he saw me mooning over you and sat down next me. After he talked to me for a while, I asked him why he picked you to love when my mom was always saying how hard it was for you guys to have a normal life. He told me that he didn’t pick you. The angels picked you for him, and the second he saw you, he knew you were the one. Isn’t that beautiful?”

  Isaac swallowed. “If you have more gems like that tucked away, why don’t you bring them out now so I can cry all my tears at once?”

  “Ever since we started this production, I keep remembering things from when we lived in the canyon—stuff I haven’t thought about in ten years. I remember the year we moved there and there was a big fire that burned for days. Everyone was scared all the time that the wind would bring it to their house.”

  “Yeah. Your mom called us and asked if we were okay, if we still had water and power. I remember thinking how nice it was that not all straight, white, rich people were intolerant assholes.”

  “Mom comes from a long line of Junior Leaguers. You could count on her to be gracious.”

  “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. If your mother had an ounce of prejudice in her, I never saw it, and that’s what mattered to me.”

  “She just couldn’t stand what she called unpleasantness.”

  “Me either. I spend a fair amount of time trying to avoid it. You can see how well that’s working out.”

  “Don’t forget what I said. If you want to talk about anything, I’ll be glad to listen.”

  “It’s all under control.”

  “Fine.” Ca
llie’s eyes wandered to the keyboard. “I need to convert some of this footage. Since Laith’s gone home, I’m assuming you’ll be staying late?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Let’s have dinner, you, me, and Tony.”

  “Sounds good.” Isaac left the room and went out the kitchen door to the back driveway. He dodged Caroline Kamimura coming out of the makeup trailer and reached the haven of his RV. Closing the door on the rest of the world, he leaned against it as though barbarians with axes were on the other side. “You can do this,” he muttered as unshed tears scalded his eyelids.

  The bottle of cognac on the counter begged to differ. Isaac couldn’t possibly get through this unfortified. What Isaac needed was the warm glow that only alcohol could give him. Laith wasn’t here. There was no one to be responsible for. Why not get shit-faced? Yes, why not?

  Isaac picked up the bottle, and, just for a second, he thought he saw the bulk of a large marmalade tomcat sprawled on the counter. “To you, Creature,” he said, taking a drink directly from the bottle before setting it down again. “I miss you, you big orange pain in the ass.”

  He looked at his laptop and felt no enthusiasm for opening it. After a moment’s thought, he was appalled that he couldn’t think of anything to do that didn’t involve being online. “Pathetic,” he said as he took out his phone.

  “Hi, Isaac,” Janelle said.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m doing great. I don’t know what you did to Laith, but I feel like I got my son back.”

  “How is he?”

  “He’s great. The school is allowing him to do something called homebound education. After what he told me, I’d never allow him to go back there.”

  “I’m assuming you had a talk with admin?”

  “For all the good it did me. They had the nerve to hint around that Laith brought the hazing on himself by looking and acting so differently.” Janelle snorted. “They’re exactly the kind of people who think a miniskirt is justification for rape.”

  “I know the type.”

  “How are you, sweetie?”

  “Feeling kind of blah. I miss the kid and I miss the Creature.”

  “I knew you’d turn into a real boy someday with a real heart.”