Now a Major Motion Picture

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Now a Major Motion Picture Page 22

by Cori McCarthy


  “Eamon, what happens at the end of the trilogy?” I held up the book. “At the airport, Shoshanna made some comment about it being sad.”

  Eamon pumped the clutch and started the car. “Ah, I think you should read it.”

  “Yeah, but what happens? Is it as bad as the end of The Amber Spyglass?”

  He shook his head. “Worse. Iris, keep reading.”

  “One of them dies,” I guessed. “One of the twins because…”

  That’s what happened in real life.

  Which left the question, which child did Grandma Mae kill off? Her daughter?

  Or her son?

  CASTLE ON THE ROCK AND OTHER BIBLICALLY CHALLENGING IDEAS

  I’d been reading for an hour, a third of the way through the sequel to Elementia, and already the characters were getting older and more complicated. And the love story? Hot. I kept backing up entire pages to reread—although I had to stop picturing Eamon and Shoshanna as Nolan and Sevyn because they were, um, kissing too much.

  “Ready?” Roxy turned the chair around to face the mirror, and I looked up and screamed.

  The sea of extras mingling around the makeup trailer jumped, including Eamon, who had been reviewing his script in the corner. I clapped my hands over my mouth and tried not to die.

  “What? Is something wrong?” Roxy asked. “Are you having an allergic reaction?”

  I shook my head back and forth. “I’m an elf. I can’t believe…I’m a freakin’ elf.”

  Ryder—who had gotten his ears first—shot up the steps and started giggling so hard he fell over Eamon’s legs. Eamon started to laugh too. I tugged on one of the pointy ears lightly. “Don’t laugh! This is my own personal hell, and it’s glued to me!”

  “It was,” Ryder corrected between giggles. “Now you love us.”

  I glanced at the pile of my brother and my boyfriend and couldn’t disagree. Then I looked down at my rather spiffy elf outfit, complete with leather bodice and leggings, and felt out of place all over again.

  Henrik stuck his head in the trailer. “Ten minutes and I want everyone up on the hill for the scene set up. Got it?” He glanced at me and snorted a laugh into the back of his hand.

  “Okay, okay!” I got out of the seat and tried to act in charge. I did look pretty darn amazing in my warrior elf outfit; I just had to own it. “Let’s go. March.”

  We left the trailer, joining the stream of people making their way up the hill toward a massive, old castle atop a two-hundred-foot-high limestone outcropping. I’d learned a few interesting details from the tour we’d taken earlier. For example, it wasn’t a castle but a series of towers and cathedrals, even a bishop’s palace, amalgamated over many hundreds of years. There had been real freakin’ kings crowned there. One of them was even named Cormac MacCartaigh, to which I joked, “He was high king? When did he find the time to write The Road?”

  No one laughed, so I texted it to Julian. He’d ROFled; he might not know literature, but the guy knows his Viggo Mortensen. One more day and Julian would be back. I couldn’t wait to find out how it’d went with Elora and tell him all about Eamon and me.

  There was a laundry list of even more history attached to the Rock of Cashel, including Saint Patrick and, everyone’s favorite, Satan. But mostly I could feel Cate’s genius in the setting—how ripe this place was for fantasy filming. The great, green mound of the rock beneath the structure was called the Fairy Ridge, and the rolling planes to the north were known as the Golden Veil.

  The Elementia crew and all our trailers were camped out to the west, out of the way of the town, and half in the middle of some poor pasture. We were close to a neglected old stone abbey that, in my opinion, was cooler than the Rock of Cashel, but then, I’d always been a fan of underdogs.

  Eamon was back in his Nolan gear, and he seemed tense. “The Vantage execs thanked me for my time before they left, like they were trying to make themselves feel better. They were supposed to stay around until the end of the day, but I guess they’ve seen all they need to see.”

  “Hope they’re gone for good,” I said.

  We reached the top and filed through the gate. There were many extras; I wasn’t used to that, and neither was Eamon. We found an empty spot by a huge stone cross and waited for Cate and Shoshanna to reappear. They’d been filming for hours, and the only time I’d seen Cate, she’d been wearing those black sunglasses again.

  Ryder was pretending to battle foes, wearing the little leather elf outfit that made him look like he won a cosplay contest at Comic-Con. I sat in the grass beside Eamon, running my fingers over the lines on his palm while he looked over his script.

  Shoshanna appeared like magic, sitting beside us with a deep scowl. “That’s it. I’m joining this puppy-love party. Let’s all cuddle and howl.”

  I barked, and she fell over backward on the grass.

  Eamon laughed, and I pointed a finger at Shoshanna. “One more puppy comment, and we’re going to stop everything and make out every time we see you.”

  “You wouldn’t dare because you two are puppies.”

  I grabbed Eamon and kissed him like the sky was breaking. When we pulled apart, he was the shade of a red associated with vine-ripe tomatoes, but I wasn’t done. “Oh no, I smudged his makeup. Let’s find Roxy, shall we? Does anyone know if she’s single? I bet Julian knows.” I took my phone out of my cleavage—because that was the only place I could hide it in this getup—and texted while reading my message aloud. “Julian, is Roxy single?”

  “He doesn’t know,” Shoshanna growled. “And he’s got the biggest mouth in LA, Iris!”

  “Of course he knows. He’s Julian.” I held out the screen to show Julian’s insta-response.

  Single. Why?

  “Should I tell him how cute you two are together—or will you chill out?”

  Shoshanna opened her mouth and then shut it. “Nice one,” she huffed. “So nice that I think you two have graduated to high school sweethearts. When is the prom?”

  Eamon held out his hands between us. “I call truce, ladies. Truce!”

  Shoshanna didn’t agree. “So what are you two love birds—”

  “Oh, wonderful. We’re birds now,” I muttered.

  Shoshanna continued, “—going to do in two days when we finish filming and head back to LA? Eamon’s not coming with. His scenes are done when we finish here. Long distance relationship takes on a whole new meaning when you’ve got the Atlantic Ocean and the length of the United States between you.”

  Eamon looked paler than usual beneath his tanned-skin makeup. Did he want to break up when I left? My chest twisted and then bloomed with embarrassment. Of course we were going to break up. How could we stay together?

  Time lock, my dad’s voice slipped in. Always makes books more interesting.

  Two more days.

  I put my hands over my ears, finding them rubbery and foreign. “Shut up, shut up!”

  “Hey.” Eamon wove his fingers with mine. “Don’t let Shoshanna get to you. She’s a fiend. A troublemaker. Look at her, she’s the cat who got the cream.”

  “It’s not her.”

  He gave me a questioning look.

  “It’s leaving you. I can’t stand it.”

  His expression was as stunned as I felt for saying the words, but he nodded like he felt the same way. The throbbing inside calmed a little. I would miss Eamon beyond belief, and that was…good? It was good to care that much, wasn’t it?

  “I know what’ll cheer you two up,” Shoshanna said, leaning in between us and popping our bittersweet moment. “Listen to my bloody awesome Irish accent. How’s the craic, fellas?”

  Eamon’s eyebrows smashed together as though they’d been in a vehicular accident. “Is it funny to do that? Is it? You, Shoshanna Reyes, sound like a chipmunk when you play Irish. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but in Ire
land we talk at a normal vocal range.”

  Shoshanna scowled. Then she repeated the same line and didn’t go crazy high with it.

  “See?” Eamon said. “Now you sound like an Irish human.”

  “It is much better,” I agreed. “Let’s hear your American accent, Eamon.”

  Eamon gave me an overconfident look that had nothing to do with his personality. When he opened his mouth, a movie stereotype fell out, albeit without a hint of Irish accent. “Surf’s up, dude. Hang ten. Did you catch the new Bruce Willis flick, man?”

  “No!” Shoshanna and I yelled together to make it stop.

  “I can do John Wayne too,” Eamon said. “Howdy, partner. Let’s fire up the iron horse and ride into the Wild West.” I had to admit, his drawl had comedic preciseness.

  Shoshanna began to roll with laughter, and she didn’t stop for minutes. “That’s the worst impression I’ve ever heard,” she managed. “That should be on YouTube, oh wait—you are!” She was still laughing, and I mean I was too, when Eamon leaned a little closer to me.

  “You’re not impressed? Not even a little?” he said in a perfect, smooth American accent.

  “What?” My voice actually shook.

  Shoshanna quit laughing and leaned closer.

  He smiled, but not like Eamon. Like an American boy with that irrefutable sense of confidence glazed in laziness. “I asked if you were impressed. I can’t be that bad, can I?”

  I blinked at him. He was pulling this off far too well, and it was like seeing someone barefoot when they’d always worn boots. I stared at his face as though I’d realized his toes were wicked hairy.

  “Keep going,” Shoshanna murmured.

  He glanced at her. “You should stop doubting me.”

  “Turn it off!” I yelled. “I hate it!”

  He grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles. “Sorry, sorry.”

  “There you are.” I breathed an actual sigh of relief.

  “Wow,” Shoshanna said after a minute of silence. “I did not think you had it in you. Shit, kid. You’re going to win an Oscar someday.”

  • • •

  Filming mode kicked in and we took our assigned places. All around, the impressive landscape was crowned by an epic smear of clouds against a vivid, azure sky. I spent most of the next few hours staring up into it, learning pretty fast that being a film actor meant a lot of waiting.

  Ryder and I had lucked out in that we didn’t have to wear wigs, but our hair had been coifed and cemented with hairspray around our prosthetic ears in a way that became less and less tolerable with each passing hour. We were stationed in a crowd of two dozen extras in similar costumes, all local Irish actors. The ghosts of Castletown. At the bottom of the hill, Shoshanna stood in her Sevyn getup, getting instructions from Cate.

  “Keep still,” I warned Ryder. He was fiddling with his leather boots and had somehow convinced Henrik to give him a bow, even though the rest of us didn’t have weapons.

  Cate had looked a little green when she put us all in our places earlier, which had me worried. If something had shaken her, I’m not sure any of us could withstand it. She was the rock this whole production was built upon, and I kept having the weirdest daydream of Grandma Mae being proud of Cate Collins.

  After reading Elementia, I felt like I did know my grandmother a little, and when I thought back on our one time together, it no longer felt like a walk in the park between two strangers. She had been trying to shove a lifetime of knowing me into one afternoon.

  I pressed my leather elf boot against the vivid grass and thought about earthquakes. Plate tectonics and fault lines—Mae Ellen Thorne and her son, Michael Edward. What the hell happened between the two of them after Samantha died? My dad hadn’t responded to my messages. Had I gone too far? Probably. Did I regret it? No.

  This was my family too.

  Cate called action, and I held my brother’s hand while we all stared forlornly at Shoshanna as she climbed the pathway through the castle, encountering a host of extras who moaned and wept without seeing her. The camera moved along the track beside her, sweeping by us with a slight pause.

  When they’d cut and were resetting, I turned to my brother. “Ryder?” He was pretending to fire his bow while we waited for the next action call. “Do you remember when I said we should find lessons for you that make Dad and you happy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s bull crap. Let’s get you cooking lessons. You can become a real chef.”

  He actually dropped his bow. “You mean it?”

  “I do. Dad won’t be happy, but he’s never happy unless he’s in control. This is your life, Ry. I’ll help you make it happen.”

  “And I’ll help you with your music!” His grin was big. I didn’t have the heart to ask how he would do that, but he continued, “I’ll get him out of the house so you can practice more.”

  “Thanks, Ry.” I hugged him. “But you know it’ll be hard, and he won’t be nice.”

  “If you can do it, I can too.”

  I was struck by what I’d realized two years ago after the cosmos dropped Felix Moss in our lives. My brother was resilient. He had to be; he hadn’t had a single break his whole short, overactive life. Well, except for being invited onto this movie set. “You know how I know Dad’s not so bad?” I asked. “He made sure I brought you here. And he didn’t come with us like a giant wet blanket. He could have said no way, and he wanted to, but he gave us this trip.”

  “That’s a weird way to think of it, Eyeball. We all tricked him. I even got my therapist to push him into it.”

  “That was you?” I asked. He grinned. “Nicely played, Brother.”

  Ryder bounced on his toes and peered down the hill. “Cate’s about to call action again. Assume the position.”

  THE TRUTH ABOUT SCAPEGIRLS, I MEAN, SCAPEGOATS

  They called wrap for the day.

  Henrik dismissed the extras, asking Shoshanna, Eamon, Ryder, and me to meet him by the old cross, where we’d been sitting and joking only a few hours ago. I could tell something was wrong by the way the assistant director’s hat was tugged low, and my brain started rifling through lists of what it could be.

  Eamon met me at the cross, all mischief. “Is it wrong to think you’re a mighty attractive elf?”

  “Yes, I think it most definitely is,” I said pulling at my ears. “I feel like I’m late to some Shannara Chronicles fan party.”

  “You make fun of that show a little too often to not have seen it, methinks.”

  “I got the flu. There was a marathon on MTV. There was nothing else to watch, I swear.”

  “So you get sick and secretly watch fantasy TV shows. Tell me more about the classified files of Iris Thorne.” He pulled me in for a kiss. Granted it wasn’t a thing for me to make out dressed as elves, but being in costume did mean that Eamon was practically naked, and I was, uh, rather fond of getting my hands on so much of his chest and hip lines.

  Ryder made gagging sounds, and we broke apart. My joy died as Shoshanna approached in her Sevyn getup, her shoulders drooping and her hair falling in her face. I could tell she wasn’t duped by Henrik’s call for a meeting either. She gave me a look that was no small part impending misery.

  “Do you know why Henrik wants to talk?” Eamon asked, still entirely too buoyant.

  “I have an idea. I just hope I’m wrong,” I said.

  Henrik appeared as Eamon started to catch on to my tone. His face fell, and Shoshanna snapped, “Where’s Cate?”

  “In her trailer. She’s taking the news hard, although she admits she’s being a coward.”

  “Cowards don’t admit to being cowards,” I said quietly. Everyone looked at me, and I said it: “They’ve canceled the filming. Those assholes shook all of our hands and left smiling, and then they axed the movie.”

  Ryder yelled, “No!
” He punched me in the arm. Hard.

  Henrik took off his hat and rubbed his head. “Of course they’re not saying that exactly. Their official position is that they’re canceling the rest of this location and the next one. We’re to make do with the shots we have, although we don’t have the end.”

  “So they’ll shrug and say, ‘Too bad,’” I snapped. “Is that it?”

  Ryder looked like he was going to hit me again, and I grabbed his hand. “Are you going to have a tantrum?” I’d never flat-out asked him before. The question seemed to shock him, and he shook his head. “Go see Mr. Donato. I’ll come talk to you when I have answers.”

  He ran off, and when I looked back, Henrik’s expression was so taut I could have smashed it with a tack hammer. “Flights are being arranged. We’ll all be out of here by tomorrow. The studio believes it would be better to shut the filming down quietly. Maybe in a season or two when the negative energy from the boycott dies down, we’ll be able to film the remaining scenes. Maybe.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Shoshanna yelled. “They never put things back in motion after they’ve been shut down like this! They’ll sell the establishing shots and call it a loss!”

  I looked to Eamon. His head was turned away, his bare chest collapsed. I tried to take his hand, but his fingers slipped away. He left, and Henrik said, “Leave him be, Iris. His dreams just flatlined.”

  Shoshanna continued to berate Henrik. She even called Julian and the two of them launched into the AD over speakerphone like he was the reason this was happening. Moving in a sort of daze, I went to the costume trailer and put my real clothes back on. Then I went to makeup and had Roxy remove my ears. The extras were talking about the scene; no one knew we had been shut down yet.

  “You all right?” Roxy asked, peeling one of my elf ears free. “You were awfully combative when I put these things on you. Now you’re still as a rock.”

  “You should talk to Shoshanna. There’s been some…news.”

  “Oh.” Roxy caught on immediately. Her hands dropped to her sides. Today her pants were being held up by braided rainbow twine, and the side of her hair that wasn’t shaved was knotted via a pair of chopsticks. “That bad?” she whispered.

 

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