Josh turned around and leaned his back against the stall, then bent over and grasped his knees. He thought he was going to be sick. If it was true, if Jessie was indeed filling the role of Kate, then – he remembered parts in the script that were going to be challenging, to say the least. Sally nuzzled his neck as if to say ‘hey buddy, s’all right’, and he reached up to give her a little scratch. But he was still breathing hard when Stephen came in, flipped over a bucket and propped a foot up on it. With an elbow on his thigh, he leaned there comfortably, and shook his head at his friend.
Josh peered behind his tall lanky pal with the two-day peach fuzz to see if he could picture where Jessie and Dee had ended up. Stephen was framed by the open barn door, silhouetted there in the dim light. The way he was grinning, and the way the light hit him and his stubble, would have made a believer out of anyone watching the show that he was indeed alive in ’65. 1865, that is. He was in costume, too, and it gave Josh an eerie feeling, as if time had somehow gotten warped, the same way this whole realization about Jessie seemed to be a dream. Some folks believed in past lives – that was it, he told himself. That was why he felt so connected to her, and that was why she was ending up here. They say that people in the present are somehow also connected in the past – so maybe he and Jessie were an item – then. If nothing else, at least it explained why it would be really fucked up to work with her now, in such intimate roles.
Oh, fuck HBO and Showcase, he thought, with their darkly contrasted Californication and Weeds, creating a new edginess and realism to the sex in modern day television. Fuck Lars Von Trier, was it him? Asking Shia LeBeouf to really do ‘the deed’ in his erotic new film. Geez, Josh was already fantasizing about Jessie – what red-blooded man in North America, the world, wasn’t? But even more than that, Josh hadn’t really - in the greater scheme of things - been clean all that long. Life was still a challenge every damn day, hell, every second of every damn day. He was stressed enough trying to create Billy on camera, and to remember to leave Billy behind at the end of a long shoot day. Now he was going to have to touch this girl, and kiss this girl, and fondle this girl – but not the way he wanted to, not the way he’d thought about it that night after their dance. Jesus, she was sweet. And sad. And - he was fairly certain because he’d read the tabloids too – likely very lonely. A dangerous combination. He wasn’t sure he could handle it – the temptation.
Hell, maybe having ninety crew standing there watching would take away the desire. He was sick, just thinking about being with her in that way. So publicly. And, at the same time, he was strangely exhilarated.
From over on the upturned bucket, where he was chuckling like he’d just pocketed his first Oscar, came Stephen’s point of view on the subject.
“You may be an asshole. But you’re also a lucky fuckin’ bastard,” he drawled slowly, as if he could read Josh’s mind. He straightened up and strolled over to Josh, where he put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed so hard Josh winced.
“Think of it this way,” he said. “You’re gonna get to go where no man – okay, well maybe Charlie, but in my book he hardly counts as a man – has gone before. There ain’t gonna be a man in the world ain’t gonna wanna be in your shoes. Now everybody is going to know who you are.” He was exaggerating the ain’ts as he stayed in character the whole day. But he was right. Soon everybody would indeed know who Josh Sawyer was.
Unless they were living under a rock, now the whole world would know who he was. Everybody. Including a certain rather disreputable red-blooded male holed up in South Carolina.
***
Deuce McCall stood in front of a mirror and, with muscled forearms and viselike fingers that seemed too large to manage a delicate razor, lathered shaving cream over his chin. Unlike Stephen, he couldn’t stand the feel of the whiskers, no matter how minute. They got itchy real quick. So he was fastidious about shaving. Then again, maybe on some deeper level he was simply trying to wipe the dirt off his face, off his character, away from his rancid soul. He was a louse.
He, like everyone else on the planet, was surprised and intrigued when the news broke that Jessie was going to be doing Drifters. It didn’t compute with him any better than it figured with anyone else. But then again, she was of that superstar Hollywood film star / recording artist / famous person ilk, and who knew what got any of them ever doing the things they did.
Even all these years later, Deuce still thought about Jessie a lot. He shivered when he remembered the sweetness of her, the way she smelled of lavender, the way she tasted. He had yet to find a girl that even remotely affected him the way she did from the moment she walked into that moldy cockroach infested slum she and her friends called home. He still remembered the second he knew he had to have her – she was wearing that faded, embroidered jean jacket, and holding that crappy guitar case with the old washed-out stickers all over it. She’d turned and spotted him, standing there on the distressed linoleum drinking expensive whiskey out of a chipped mug – and she’d taken a step back. Maybe that was why he was so struck on having her – because the filth in her eyes was her reflection of him, and what Deuce McCall couldn’t have, Deuce McCall wanted.
He was absolutely floored when he first saw her in that stupid film – not that he ever went to those kinds of ridiculous Hollywood fluff movies – but one of his girls at the nightclub saw it, and she was all agog over the fact that Jessie, who quit his employ so suddenly and without notice, was in fact starring in the movie with Charlie Deacon! And then – dating Charlie Deacon! It was too much to bear – one, that she disappeared to Heaven knows where, and two, that she was now living the life of Riley up in Canada. So he went to the film, and then to all of her successive films, and to some of her concerts here, there, and everywhere (although never, ever, in South Carolina – she’d been sure to make sure Charles and Dee knew that from the start, that under no circumstances would she ever play in Charleston. They didn’t ask why). But he had never seen her again, in person. Not yet, anyway. She was still on his mind, and on his radar every day, but Deuce McCall was a calculating man, and he was waiting for the right moment to enter Jessie’s life again.
Deuce grabbed the straight edge and pressed it against his skin, drawing the glistening blade downwards. He pushed a little too hard and watched as a single drop of blood formed on his cheek, creating a watery, diluted trail down to his chin. He laughed sardonically as he remembered another trail of blood, seven years ago, on a young man’s skin.
“What the hell was his name?” he wondered aloud, his brows knitting in concentration. “Randy? Andy? Something like that. Some hick yuppie middle-class name.”
He dipped the razor in the soapy water of his designer fused glass sink, and stared at the blood trail on his face. Suddenly, with a movement quick as lightning, he grabbed a white towel and wiped it away. He tossed the towel into a nearby laundry bin, making sure that the side with the blood on it wasn’t in view.
Yes, he was a calculating man, Deuce McCall - but that didn’t mean he always won, and he certainly didn’t like to be reminded of the times he failed.
***
Chapter Five
So Jessie did indeed say yes, despite the misgivings of most people. Her involvement in Drifters started right away, as the producers buckled down in earnest to ensure HBO stuck to their word and ordered a lot more episodes. Josh was quiet and distant at the table reads but he pulled it together on set where the actual shooting happened.
Initially, Jessie worked more with Stephen than with Josh. Her storyline in the series as Kate introduced her first to the convivial Stephen’s character - as his whore, in fact, while he is away on a ‘buying trip’ for his saloon. He takes a liking to her and brings her back to ‘Gassy Town’, where the saloon caters to all kinds of dribble – bedraggled hopeful miners just passing through, pompous businessmen, ordinary men building what would become Vancouver. Kate runs into Billy, whom she had been looking for when she left her home just after the American
Civil War. The two were in love as teenagers when Billy was Kate’s family’s groom - a hired hand, essentially. When her father discovered the young lovers together in the barn, he made damn sure Billy enlisted as a Yankee soldier right away. A heartbroken Kate received no correspondence during the war, but a friend of the family who returned from the conflict (minus one leg and yet, somehow, still filled with optimism) established that Billy had gone north, purportedly to Canada to try his luck in the gold rush. To Kate, that meant British Columbia, because Billy had talked about trying to find his father in the western province. Sure, it was a big place; but she figured somehow, somewhere, someone would have seen her man. And she was bound and determined to try, despite the social norms of the time, which frowned heavily upon a woman travelling alone. When she ran out of money, she was forced to try her hand at whoring – thus, her meeting up with Stephen’s character, the lively saloonkeeper, Bokeem.
So it wasn’t until episode three that Jessie actually worked with Josh. Their call times and shooting schedules were initially disparate, so she had some time (despite her initial disappointment) to become somewhat accustomed to the set, to get to know the other cast as well as the crew. She was quite shy, overall, even though she was used to new shoots in unusual places. Or maybe that was why. At any rate, the first thing she did was to settle into her trailer, which was modest but served her purpose; it had a calm, neutral beige interior with the usual amenities, including a table for meals or for reviewing paperwork, a black stove and fridge, a cream colored sink, a tiny bathroom with a shower and miniature tub, and a large double bed in the back for those times when lighting and shooting took forever on someone else’s scene and your 5:30 a.m. call time was getting the best of you. The second thing she did was take a more detailed walk around and get to know the lay of the land, as well as the people on it.
The way the location was set up, the cast was able to shoot everything – well, almost everything – in one area. The shooting sets were built about a half mile below the main area known as base camp where the parking, cast trailers, and some of the crew trailers were set up. On the west side, just beyond the barn, was a little creek lined with a few old cottonwood trees, which Jessie quickly discovered was a good place to sit and reflect, as well as to study lines. On the north side were the trailers as well as a large rather rustic red painted building equipped with offices, a dining area, a media room for viewing dailies, and washrooms. Parking was on the south side, below the barn and corral and extending a few hundred feet east. Dividing that from base camp was the split rail fence, with an opening to accommodate the movement of cast and crew. The path beneath her feet when Jessie first entered was dirt, with a few little spitfire patches of green and brown grass here and there, little fighters that tried to keep growing despite all of the odds; in other words, despite the many boots that travelled the well-worn path.
Below, east of the base camp, down a little hill, were the actual shooting sets. They extended about a mile in total in one direction, and about half a mile in the other. The creek, where Jessie liked to read her scripts, curved up and around the dining hall building and widened down below. It was a natural anchor upon which the sets were built, just as many communities had been built since time immemorial, water being a life-blood that nourished, inspired, and made the world go round.
Drifters had Bokeem’s hardy saloon, of course, which was central to a small village consisting of all the accoutrements of 19th century life – a stable, a general store, a hardware store for the prospectors, a church that doubled as a school, a blacksmith’s shop, and a small number of unexceptional personal residences. All were built with hand-hewn wood – Jessie was quite impressed with the attention to research, detail and overall craftsmanship the carpenters and set designers put into each building. But then again, this was one of Jonathon’s shows – his resume was impeccable, filled with exceptionally detailed work. It was why he stood apart from the others and why he often required a bigger budget. Where other producers scrimped and saved, Jon added. He didn’t see the point of cheating and substituting sets and costumes, horses and wagons, if you could have the real thing. He was from the Elia Kazan school of filmmaking – real sets equaled realism.
As Jessie wandered around early on her first morning, she was quite blown away by the fact that the buildings were not just facades. They were the real deal, and it was obvious that Jon intended to shoot in each building as well as outside of them. They were fully functional, each with flyaway walls if need be to accommodate camera and crew, and each set up for efficient lighting and props. She had worked on many sets, but this one impressed her. It gave her confidence in her choice; she would be working on something where professionalism and attention to every minute detail mattered. She took the time to stop and inhale as she walked around – between that lovely scented weed she remembered from home, there was also in the air that wholesome fresh sawdust smell that accompanies new construction. This was a place where new beginnings were so ripe they just about burst off the vine.
Jessie loved coming to work during those first days. Stephen was a hoot, and it was clear that even though he had a steady woman in his life, he quickly grew to respect and adore the new gal on set. He brought her coffee and cinnamon rolls from the craft service trailer when they were waiting to be called to set. They’d sit in her trailer with only the screen door closed so as not to invite rumor and conjecture (film sets can be gossipy places), and discuss writing, music and film. Nothing was off their radar – the art of the old Charlie Chaplin movies, Kiewslowski’s ability to let the viewer discover ideas rather than be told, playwright Tennessee Williams’ need for change ‘to arrest his downward drift.’
The others were a little slow to come around, and Jessie didn’t help her case any. She had fostered a reputation from previous work as someone who preferred to go to work to work, not to socialize, and she had often spent a lot of time in her trailer, even preferring to eat in there alone. Her standing with most crews was as an aloof actor who was kind enough when approached, who was easy to work with, brilliant on camera, but shy and quiet. Nobody broke through Jessie’s stiff demeanor – her brick wall was always in place. They all figured she was eccentric, anyway – after all, who else would put up with Charlie Deacon as a boyfriend and, now, a fiancé? He was a charmer, to be sure, but a philanderer, and nobody deserved that.
So a routine was quickly established. Since Jessie felt somewhat comfortable with Stephen right off the bat, and they were working in the same scenes at the beginning, they hung out together and it was he who introduced her to the others, who broke the ice and encouraged budding friendships. She tried to set a precedent right away on this shoot, mostly because it would be the longest shoot she would be doing to date, almost seven months in total, and also because she wanted to be around Josh whenever possible. If she started out by hanging out in her trailer, or alone, then likely that would be the pattern for the duration. On day one she met the girls in hair, makeup and wardrobe (she’d met the department keys earlier, when camera testing – later, she was introduced to the on-set crew), some of the grips and electrics (there were so many!), the director of photography (DoP), camera operator, sound guy, and a few ADs (assistant directors) and PAs (production assistants). They liked her okay, and were excited to meet her, but most were reserving judgment for later, when they discovered whether she would be having hissy fits and refusing to leave her trailer when called to set. None of the crew really felt she was sincere about being there. They mostly thought she was there as a favor to Jon via Dee and Charles, and that the opportunity would indeed give her time to work on her songwriting, as they’d been told. Some of the diehards in the group thought she was crazy to turn down the Ridley Scott film. The director of one of the greatest films ever made, Blade Runner? Was she nuts?
On day one of episode three, Jessie finally got to work with Josh. She was already half dressed in her wardrobe, and was in ‘hairy make-up’ – the hair and make-up trailer �
�� when word came over young Pier’s walkie that Josh had arrived at base camp. Actors were always reported in by the base camp AD – the third AD, or TAD – upon arrival, and then closely watched all day. Jessie always found it a little uncomfortable when she was wandering around and could hear ADs whispering, “She’s at the craft table”, or “She’s gone for a walk!” She got a kick out of their spying techniques, and she figured they enjoyed it too – they’d be behind her a few feet, whispering into their walkies as if she couldn’t hear, but she generally could, and did. She joked about it on the way home sometimes - “Jessie’s at craft, she’s eating gummy bears – a green one, no – red – oops, my mistake, yellow! Oh God, she’s bitten the head off!” She wondered if they timed her in the bathroom, and figured likely they did. Even though she had a private toilet, she figured since they monitored her every move, they likely had some kind of sensor on her toilet door. Seriously, though, she understood the need for ADs to track their cast, since time was money, and the system from arrival to wardrobe to hair to make-up to blocking, rehearsal and shooting all had to be incredibly smooth and efficient. Generally all TV and film crews were very good at their jobs - they had to be, really - because the days were always very long. Shooting involved turnarounds and reversals, which necessitated lighting and camera changes, and changes in props and set dec too, and so in order to be effective, crews had to be professional and competent. They had to tail their actors and whisper like spies, as strange and uncomfortable as it seemed. Jessie was at the top of her game as an actor, and lack of privacy was part of the deal. She accepted it. Heck, being tailed all the time was another safeguard against getting involved with Josh, wasn’t it? She chided herself for thinking about him so much. Geez, I must really be lonely, she thought rather sadly.
A Song For Josh, Drifters Book One Page 8