Z On Location

by J. J. Howard

  I dragged my eyes from the ceiling. The tall, impressive-looking woman in the pale blue suit in front of us held out her hand and I grabbed it to shake. She had a superfirm grip that seemed about right for an important CEO of a technology company. “Follow me, ladies. We can do the interview in my office as we discussed.”

  I’d read up on Cortex in Mom’s binder of information. Cortex sold systems that let you communicate with lots of different devices in your home, from setting or checking your security system remotely to checking on your kids. They were pioneering all kinds of sensors to be built into homes—ones that would tell you if the air filter needed to be changed, or even if the house was shifting on its foundation. It reminded me of a story about a futuristic house we’d read in language arts class. I wondered if I could work that into my post somehow.

  Calista’s office was just as awe-inspiring as the lobby. Her desk alone was the size of my room at home. I probably couldn’t fit the whole thing into a shot from my camera. “Z, can you start getting the B camera set up? We don’t have much time,” Mom was saying. The sharp tone in her voice told me this wasn’t the first time she’d asked me. Whoops. I needed to focus.

  “On it!” I called, and knelt to unzip the camera bag I carried, setting up the tripod as quickly as I could.

  Mom and Calista had walked over to her desk, and Mom was setting up the A camera in front of it, so that must be where Calista would sit to answer Mom’s questions. I saw that Mom was handling everything really smoothly, but it took me a couple of tries to get the camera to sit correctly in the tripod. I felt my frustration build, knowing I’d practiced this setup a bunch of times. I guess being distracted didn’t make me the best assistant.

  Mom appeared beside me. “You need to move much faster, Z,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve already got the A camera in place. I was hoping you could fit the lav mic on Calista, to get the practice, but I’ve already done it. We need to get this all set up more quickly.”

  Mom snapped the camera into place and checked the settings. “This camera is going to be our backup,” she told me, speaking fast. “On some shoots we’ll use the B camera to get alternate shots, but on this one we’re racing against the clock. I need you to set up the shotgun mic and get in place with that so I can start the interview. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I said, my frustration continuing to grow. Everything had gone so smoothly with Kacey and Roxie, but today I was slowing Mom down.

  I unpacked the handheld microphone, moving double time, and checked the settings. I stood behind Calista’s impressive desk, just out of the shot, and gave Mom a thumbs-up that I was ready.

  “Just a minute and I’ll be ready, too,” she called back.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out. Mari had texted me.

  My fingers itched to push PLAY and see what Winter’s newest post was all about, but focusing on the interview was more important. I quickly texted back.

  Mari texted back right away.

  She’d sent a video, but I knew I couldn’t watch it now, no matter how tempting. Mari sent a few more cute wallaroo pics and selfies though. It looked like she was having so much fun and I wondered if Calista would mind if I took a picture of her for a #summeradventure post. Maybe I should be stealthy and just do a selfie …

  “Z, are you ready to record?”

  Whoops. Mom had totally seen me with my phone out.

  “Ready,” I answered guiltily, putting my hand with the phone in it slowly behind my back and sliding it into my pocket.

  “Audio and video are rolling,” Mom announced.

  She stepped away from the A camera a little to start the interview.

  “Ms. Danvers, can you tell me a bit about the kinds of new technology your company is creating?”

  Already this interview felt very different from our first. I remembered that Mom had said that Kacey was a “very relaxed subject.” Calista Danvers seemed really busy, and we didn’t have as much time as we did with Kacey. The whole thing felt like a bigger challenge.

  I made myself focus on what Calista was saying. “Here at Cortex, we’re most interested in the area of sensors. Sensors aren’t machines—they don’t make anything. What they do is collect data. Our job, then, is finding a way to make that data meaningful—to people and devices. For example, we are exploring the ways that sensors can help us to build the perfect home. One that …”

  My concentration was broken again when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I should have turned it off instead of leaving it on vibrate. I hoped the mic wasn’t sensitive enough to pick up that sound. But the look on Mom’s face said it definitely was.

  “Cut!” Mom said. Calista looked over at me, and I set the mic down and pulled my phone out to switch it all the way off.

  “I’m so sorry, I thought I had it turned off.” Calista didn’t say anything, but she looked at her watch.

  We started rolling again right away. I was so embarrassed, I closed my eyes for a second to refocus. Mom had made a point to tell me that she needed me to focus when I was working with her—and she’d specifically warned me not to get distracted by my phone.

  When I opened them, I glanced at the video monitor and saw that the mic had dipped down into the frame.

  Calista stopped speaking, and both she and Mom turned to look at me. I felt my face get warm. “Sorry.”

  “Do you need me to start again?”

  “No, Calista, I’m sorry,” Mom said. “We can add some B-roll over part of your answer to cover the mic. If you could just pick up with your last sentence, about the use of sensors in home foundations to communicate warnings about earthquakes?”

  Calista nodded and resumed speaking. I held on to the mic as though I were a Titanic survivor and it was my driftwood.

  Mom asked a couple more questions, and before I knew it, she was thanking Calista, and an assistant was shooing us out of the office. I carried the B camera, still on its tripod. “We’ll pack up fully in the lobby,” Mom said in a clipped tone as she guided me out.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said as soon as the assistant had left.

  Mom continued breaking down the camera I’d carried. “It’s okay, Z—we’ll talk more about this later. For now, could you help me get all the cases closed up?”

  “Okay,” I answered, doing as she asked.

  I didn’t know exactly how the talk was going to go, but I knew one thing for sure. We were not headed out for ice cream to celebrate.

  I leaned against the RV and pulled up the video Mari had sent me while we were in the interview. Mom had stepped away to make a phone call. She hadn’t been very talkative while we were loading the equipment. I knew I had messed up and felt terrible about my mistakes. But Mom had said it was okay, that we could fix it. I just hoped we could.

  The video was of a thing that looked like a miniature kangaroo hopping, and Mari had put one of her own songs over it so it looked like it was dancing. I was about to text Mari that it was hilarious, but then saw Mom coming and put my phone away, ready to get back on the road.

  “Hold on, Z. We need to talk for a moment.”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath in and turned to face Mom.

  She sighed. “First, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair for me to expect you to be able to do everything I need an assistant to do. It’s a lot of work, even for someone with experience. I thought … It’s just that I forget your age sometimes, because you’ve done so much with your own filmmaking, and keeping up with your vlog. I know that takes a lot of time and energy. But you are acting as my assistant on this shoot, and I expect certain things. First, you really need to turn your phone off for the shoots. But I know I have to keep in mind that you still need some supervision on set.”

  “I’m really sorry I forgot, Mom,” I said. “I’ll definitely remember next time.”

  “Well, I appreciate that. Just to make things a little easier, I got us some extra help, too, for the rest of the trip. Nora, one of my student
s from last semester, is going to meet us at our next stop in San Francisco.”

  I felt my face fall. Mom didn’t think I could help her at all anymore? Just because of a couple of tiny mistakes? “But—I can do it!” I protested. “We don’t need more help.”

  “You’re still an important part of the crew, Z. Having Nora here will just take some of the pressure off. She’s helped me with shoots before, and she’s very good. Besides, I think you’ll like her.”

  I felt a moment of panic. “Does this mean I won’t get to interview Winter?”

  Mom put her arm around me. “I think that’s still up in the air. Let’s see how the next few shoots go, okay? Just take today as a lesson, and remember that when we’re shooting, that’s all we’re doing.”

  “Okay.” I knew there was nothing more to say. I slid the CREW hat from my head, feeling defeated. “Hey, do you mind if I go into the back and get started on a new vlog post?”

  “Sure, honey. I’ll call you when it’s time to stop for a bite to eat.”

  I climbed up in to the RV and walked back to the kitchen area. The binder with all my training information was still lying there open, just where I’d left it. I pushed it closed. I definitely didn’t want to do more studying now.

  What I needed to do was connect with my friends. First, I caught up on all my friends’ feeds. Lauren had posted photos from Color Wars Day at soccer camp. She looked really happy, dressed in blue from head to toe and grinning from ear to ear.

  Becka had played in a tournament with her wheelchair basketball team, and they’d won. She’d posted some triumphant shots of her high-fiving her teammate, and one of the scoreboard.

  Gigi was home in London, and it looked like she’d spent the day shopping with her friends. But even her regular shopping trip looked so much cooler to my eyes because: London!

  Finally, with Mari’s trip to Woodland Park, it seemed like all of my friends were having exciting and fun starts to their summer. I genuinely did “like” all of their photos, but I also felt the slightest pangs of jealousy. This trip was a lot harder and definitely less exciting and fun than I had thought it would be.

  Becka texted me and Gigi just as I was scrolling through everyone’s feeds.

  I’d just been sitting here feeling jealous of their summers. And wanting so badly to share with my friends about how everything seemed to be going wrong. But for some reason, hearing Gigi call my summer “glamorous” made me want them to keep seeing it that way.

  Well, at least that part was true. I’d definitely learned what not to do—by messing up—in the past two days.

  Shoot. I’d told everyone about the interview after Mom told me, and I had felt totally confident that I would actually be doing the interview then.

  I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Wishing it to be true, I typed in my response and hit SEND.

  Fake it until you make it, right? If I wanted to interview Winter Costello, I had to act like it was going to happen.

  “Going my way?” Nora asked, grinning as she stuck her head in the window of the RV. We’d been waiting for her at the airport for what seemed like forever, but Mom didn’t seem to mind.

  “Oh, Nora—thank you so much for coming on such short notice! You’re a lifesaver!” Mom turned to me. “Z, this is Nora, my student—and superhero,” she added with a wink at Nora. “Nora, this is my daughter, Z, an aspiring filmmaker.”

  “Nice to finally meet you, Z! Your mom talks about you all the time. She’s really proud of those little videos you make.”

  Nora reached out to shake my hand. I took her hand and shook automatically. I didn’t love her choice of words: those little videos you make. But she probably hadn’t seen them to know how much work they really were.

  Nora looked every inch the cool college film student, I had to admit. She was tall, with dark red hair, and wore an outfit that I knew would have earned Mariela’s fashion guru seal of approval: black leggings with a little diamond pattern woven through them, an oversize white T-shirt with a jumble of tiny gold necklaces, and a long light blue cardigan.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Mom said, and gestured to the passenger seat. “It’s less than a half hour drive to the Exploratorium.” And just like that, I was stuck in the back of the RV with the equipment—probably for the rest of the trip.

  I wandered to the back and settled in for the drive. When we stopped, I’d have to move my stuff to my new space in the RV—I’d sleep in the big bed with Mom, and Nora would take the fold-out. I checked my phone, hoping for something interesting, but for once I didn’t have any new texts or notifications. Remembering yesterday’s disastrous shoot, I turned it completely off and put it in my pocket. No distractions this time! Soon we pulled into the Exploratorium, and I ventured up front where Mom and Nora were talking about the shoot.

  “… so excited that we’re going to be filming in the Exploratorium’s Kanbar Forum!” Nora was saying. “How amazing will it be to set up the sound in there? They have a Constellation acoustic system.”

  “Nora’s main area of interest is sound recording, Z,” Mom told me.

  “Oh, you’ll be handling the sound for the shoot?” I asked.

  That was supposed to be my job.

  “Yes, but don’t worry. There’s plenty of work to go around.” Mom sounded reassuring. I just hoped this #summeradventure hadn’t turned into a #summerbummer.

  It was a lot easier carrying all our gear with another person, but that didn’t make me any happier about suddenly being the third wheel. Still, maybe I could make the best of having Nora around and learn even more about sound recording on our shoots.

  “So, Nora, how does a Constellation acoustic system work?” I asked as we walked inside.

  “Oh,” she said, not looking at me. “It’s complicated. Here, can you grab this?” She handed me an extra bag.

  “Sure,” I said, adding her pack to my already full arms. She walked ahead to catch up with my mom. Ouch.

  The inside of the Exploratorium was awesome, and I wanted to see everything—the Tinkering Studio, where you could build and experiment with all sorts of different materials, and the observatory, where you could do things like make your own solar system model and check the weather in space. But I didn’t know how much time we’d have, and I wanted to be prepared, especially after the last disaster. Like Mom said, when we’re shooting, that’s all we’re doing.

  As soon as we walked in, Mom’s contact greeted us, and we followed her as she fast-walked us to the place Nora had been talking about, the Kanbar Forum, which turned out to be an auditorium with a stage and rows of seats. There were three director’s chairs set up onstage; that must be where Mom was going to do her interviews.

  A short guy introduced himself as the “sound guru.” He and Nora started speaking incomprehensible tech-speak right away. “I’m going to go help in the sound booth to adjust the levels for us, okay?” Nora asked Mom.

  “Sounds good.” Mom turned to me. “Z, are you ready to set up the B camera? Just like you did yesterday.”

  I pushed back any lingering frustration and tried to focus on proving myself today. “Sure thing.”

  I set up the tripod, then went to check the settings. I remembered I’d saved the note on what they should be set to in the notes app on my phone. Should I risk turning it back on?

  With a sigh, I hit the POWER button. I checked the camera’s settings, then stepped back and made sure to turn my phone off again. “What else can I help with?” I asked Mom.

  But Nora was back from her sound mission and said, “Grab the key light, Z. It should go right here.”

  I looked over at Mom. Nora was giving me orders now?

  Mom caught my eye and just nodded; she was busy talking to one of the interview subjects who’d just shown up.

  “The angle has to be right,” Nora said, adjusting the light I’d just set up in the spot she’d marked. “I’m going to run the sound. You can run the B camera. Do you know how to do t
hat?”

  I didn’t trust myself to speak just then. I wanted to tell her I had already set it up and had already been doing that before she got here, but I just nodded.

  All you had to do yesterday was hold the microphone, a little voice inside my head reminded me. “Sure, I can do that,” I answered calmly.

  The other two interview subjects showed up, and Nora showed me where I should be positioned. I stood there, feeling useless and mad at myself, watching Nora set up the lavalier mics on each of the subjects.

  “Audio and video rolling,” Mom said, and then she was introducing the three Exploratorium people. The first guy, Tom, said, “I’m a curator in the East Gallery, where we have exhibits focused on living systems.”

  “Can you tell us about some of your exhibits and how you use technology to communicate to visitors what you are showing?” Mom asked.

  “Sure. One favorite is the special lenses we’ve developed for the plankton exhibit. The lens is a table, so visitors of all ages and heights can see the magnified images of microscopic life …”

  I got distracted by Nora for a second as she adjusted her mic. Plankton were not the most interesting things in the universe, anyway. A few minutes later, I heard Nora call in a low voice, “Z.” I focused in on her face. She nodded toward the second interview subject and motioned for me to move the B camera. Carefully, I moved the camera and the tripod.

  “I’m Sally Stevens,” the woman was saying. “I work in our education department. We partner with the community to plan events for local school students, as well as online learning opportunities.”

  “What forms of new technology are helping you to educate more people right now, would you say?” Mom asked.

  While Mom fired her questions, I looked around, desperate for something to do. Something important. Something that would prove to Mom that I was able to handle more than the B camera setup.