Epic

by Lark O'Neal

  “What if you pretend that I’m your boyfriend? What’s his name? Tyler?”

  “He’s not exactly my boyfriend.”

  “Whatever. I don’t care. Right now, let’s just get you through this bit, yeah?”

  I nod.

  “They’re waiting. Let’s get it on the next couple of takes, okay? Just pretend I’m Tyler.”

  I look up at him, perplexed. Does he think I’m not feeling it and that’s why I’m having trouble? If so, that might make it easier. If he thinks I’m picturing Tyler whenever I get that look on my face, I won’t be sending the wrong messages.

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll try that.”

  “Good.” He touches my back as we return to the set, and it steadies me.

  When they start rolling the cameras again I stand on the beach and let go of everything that has been in my life before this very minute. I forget me and become the girl in the story, the girl who’s falling in love with this place and the people in it. Kaleb comes out of the water again, brown and lean and beautiful, and I let it all show on my face, all the things I love in that second. Him, his tattooed face and hip, the hot, coppery light in his eyes.

  “And we’re done,” Ian says. “That was gorgeous, Jess.”

  “Thanks.”

  He stands with me, arms crossed, the script in his hands. “Do you know what got in your way?”

  I shrug. “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “No. I won’t freeze again, I promise.”

  “Good girl.” He waves to the crew. “Let’s call it a day. Get started early in the morning with the forest scenes.”

  The forest scenes. Me in the blue and green dress, and Kaleb as the mortal who spies an elf. And kisses her.

  I need to get on the Internet. I need to talk to Tyler. I have to remind myself that what we have is true and real, not this make-believe thing in this make-believe world. “Is there an Internet cafe around here anywhere?” I ask him.

  “Don’t need one. You can get online in the main room of the house. There’s a public computer there.”

  * * *

  Within the hour I’m finally online. It’s been three days, and everyone has been worrying. Henry’s sent three emails, one each day, which is a lot for him. Electra sent one.

  And there are two from Tyler, which is less than I expected. Even so, my heart leaps into my throat, and I’m so relieved I want to faint. As I click open, I raise my hand and finger the necklace hanging around me neck.

  The first one says,

  My Kiwi baby,

  I tried about a hundred times to rouse you on Skype again, but it never came back up. Let me know when you get this email so I don’t worry, okay?

  About court: good and bad. Good because the judge gave me a chance to prove myself before he throws me in jail, but it’s not going to be easy. I’ve got some stuff to do, and I don’t really want to talk about it until I figure out if it’s going to work. I might not be able to get on Skype for a couple of days, but once I get settled, I’ll get back in touch. You can always email me. Please email me. Like, every hour on the hour. (Kidding. Not that wack.)

  In the meantime, enjoy every second of everything. Have fun getting to know your dad and seeing where you were born and filming a commercial. Make new friends and have adventures. If you’re going to be in Queenstown, maybe try skiing or snowboarding. They give lessons. (Bungee jumping, maybe? :))

  Anyway, gotta go.

  Thinking super xxxxx thoughts,

  Tyler

  I close my eyes and I can feel his breath on my neck, his lips on my ear, his naked body wrapped around mine. I’m back in his bedroom, filled with pale green light, and I’m imagining that I might one day live there, safe at last.

  Everybody else has gone to their rooms, and I can hear someone over my head walking around. From the kitchen comes the sound of food prep, chopping and voices and cutlery rattling. I’m transported to the kitchen of The Musical Spoon, and Tyler trying to get back into my good graces after he showed me such a terrible lack of respect when his sister showed up at the cabin. He hurt my feelings a lot, Tyler did, cluelessly, but still carelessly.

  More than once.

  In the upheaval of leaving and then the travel, I fretted about leaving him, knowing I would miss him—and I do!—and I had forgotten this part, that I had to leave because he let me down, got me fired from a job I not only really needed but really wanted.

  Now there’s something he isn’t telling me, and it makes me feel uneasy. What—

  A flush of guilt spills through me. I’m probably just making the case against Tyler right now because of that weird reaction I had to Kaleb this afternoon.

  Tyler has his issues, and I don’t even begin to understand them, but he’s also a good guy, and he cares about me and I care about him. Deliberately, I remember all the good moments, every single one of them—sitting for him to paint me in the studio, and then his mouth on my breasts after; making breakfast in that kitchen I liked so much; that hot, hot kiss he gave me against the wall of my little house. The way he urged me to go to school, and—

  “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

  I look up into the perceptive eyes of the woman who plays the middle-aged traveler in the commercials. Rhonda. “Not really. I’m just thinking about my boyfriend in Colorado.”

  “Missing him, are you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And?”

  Everywhere I go, I collect mothers. Electra, and the woman on the plane, and now Rhonda. I must have a lost-daughter face. “Well…” I look around to see if anyone else is in the room. “Maybe I’m feeling guilty. I don’t think he’d like…all this in the commercials.”

  “It’s all make-believe,” she says. “It starts to feel real sometimes, but you’ll make yourself crazy falling in love with every new co-star, and I have a feeling you’re going to have a lot, Jess Donovan.”

  “A lot of lovers?” It shocks me.

  She gives me a soft smile. “A lot of co-stars.”

  “Oh, no. This isn’t my career. I’m just making some quick money.”

  She inclines her head. “Is that right.” It’s not a question.

  “Yes.”

  “Let me tell you something, Jess.”

  I nod.

  “You ever heard the Virginia Woolf quote, “‘A woman needs money and a room of her own’?”

  “Yes, it’s from an essay. I read it in high school.”

  “Well, the most important part of that is the money. If you have money of your own, you don’t have to rely on anybody else. If there’s something you can do that will earn money easily, I’d suggest you might give it a try.”

  I think about the 6000 dollars they’re giving me for this. “But acting isn’t easy—or reliable.”

  “It can be. You’ve got the face and the natural ability. I’m just saying you might want to think about using that to build yourself something real and solid before you spend a lot of energy on any of the young men in your life.”

  My own money. I look at her for a long time, thinking about that. What would it be like to have my own money? Enough money? It’s hard to even imagine.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  She stands. “Don’t get in your own way tomorrow, girl. Whatever you have to do, put that first.”

  “I will.”

  When she leaves, I open the next email from Tyler, and it’s short and simple.

  Hey, Jess. I checked the news and it looks like an earthquake might have knocked out power where you are. Email me when you get this. Xoxoxox Tyler

  Because others are waiting, I’m limited to a half hour, and it’s nearly up already, so I open a new window and type fast:

  To: tlsmith@greatmail.com

  From: jessdonovan@cheapnet.com

  Subject: Finally!

  24 July, 19:12

  Dear Tyler,

  I’m sorry to be so out of touch! You were right—it was an earthquake, k
inda big I guess. Nobody was hurt here or anything, but I have to tell you it scared the heck out of me. My dad’s stepdaughter is pretty freaked out because she went through the Christchurch earthquakes. (She and her brother Kaleb, who also lives with us. But he’s a lot more stable than she is.) We’ll be there on Saturday and Darcy wants to show me where her old house used to be.

  My iPad was damaged in the earthquake, and the power was out for two days, and then we all started filming early yesterday morning, all day, then early again today. It’s really, really, really hard work and long hours, but Tyler, it’s so much fun!!!!!!

  Darcy and Kaleb are both doing the commercials, too. Darcy is an extra, which she talked herself into. She’s a very hot girl, half Maori, all lush and dark haired and sleepy-eyed. The men can’t take their eyes off her. I’m sort of a human/sort of an elf, depending on the scene, and although I do get yelled at sometimes and not everyone is particularly nice to me, I’m loving it. Kaleb is my buddy in the ads, and he’s really laid back, so that helps. When I start getting upset, he just tells me to breathe. It’s getting to be a joke.

  What are you up to? What did the judge say? You have to tell me!

  My dad took my iPad into the shop, but everybody keeps telling me that it’s hard to get good wireless unless you’re at home. Not sure if we can Skype unless I can figure out how to do it at the hotels. Tomorrow we’re going to Abel Tasman for the second day, which is this amazingly beautiful place. Tyler, I kayaked!! I didn’t even drown! It was one of the most fun things I’ve ever done, honestly, just gliding along in the water, so quietly. I love the water so much! It’s hard to even write it down in a big enough way. I wish I could call you and talk on the phone. Maybe we can do that much at some point.

  I think about the dolphins, the swirl of them, the power of them, and I can’t find any words to tell him about it, not in an email. It feels sacred somehow, easily sullied by the wrong words. I will tell him—when I can see him face to face.

  We’ll do one more day at Tasman, then finish the shoots here tomorrow, drive down to Christchurch for one day of filming, then fly to Queenstown Sunday. When you look on the map, the distances don’t look that long, but I guess driving takes a long time. I was hoping we’d drive, because I want to get to Kaikoura, which is where I was born. The film people don’t care about that kind of stuff, as I’m sure you know. They have schedules and it all costs so much money, and they have to get it done.

  This is not what I thought I’d be doing here. I’m sad in one way that I haven’t had much time with my dad and we haven’t gone to Kaikoura, and I still have all these questions about my mom, which I haven’t even been able to ask. On the other hand, it’s really exciting, and I think I might be actually kind of good at this, and I’ve never had anything happen to me like this in my whole life.

  Send me a long email so I know you’re okay, please? I’m thinking about you and sending xxxxxxxx thoughts, too.

  Love,

  Jess

  Just as I send it, the timer runs out. A load lifts from my shoulders and I head upstairs to find my room.

  Chapter ELEVEN

  My room is at the back of the house, and there are three of us in there—me, Darcy, and Kaleb. Because they think we’re all family? Because girls and guys want to hang out like this?

  Whatever.

  Darcy is there, sitting on one of three side-by-side twin beds lined up with about two feet of space between each one, painting her fingernails. She has, because she’s Darcy, taken the one closest to the bathroom. Kaleb’s stuff is piled on the one by the door, and I’m in the middle.

  “They don’t have any more rooms, so we’re all sharing.” She holds out her hand in front of her and admires the color, then brings it back to blow on it. “You okay with that?”

  I fall backwards on the bed, letting my legs dangle off, and close my eyes. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Maybe because your boyfriend wouldn’t like it?” She says this slyly and I look at her, wondering if she wants to make trouble somehow.

  “He won’t care.” It’s been a long, long day, and lying down feels like heaven. I fold my hands on my tummy. “I finally had an email from him and got to tell him what was going on. With the earthquake,” I add, unnecessarily.

  “That’s good.”

  For a long time there’s quiet, and I realize how much I’ve missed that. I lived alone for almost two years, just me in my little house, playing whatever music I wanted to hear¸ eating what I figured out to cook (and could afford). Since I arrived in New Zealand, it’s been go, go, go.

  “I can’t wait to see the film of the dolphins,” Darcy says. “That was so cool. Was it amazing to swim with them?’

  My sleepy brain drifts back to those precious moments, being suspended in the blue green waters with them, feeling their bodies, hearing them communicating with each other. I’m back there among them, swimming. Kaleb is there, too, laughing, as he runs his hands over their bodies, and we transform into dolphins and swim away into the far ocean.

  I wake up with a start, not sure how long I’ve been sleeping, but it’s dark. Darcy is gone. I turn my head and see Kaleb sitting on his bed, propped up against the wall, reading. He looks ordinary now, wearing a black t-shirt with All Blacks on it and jeans. His feet are bare.

  As if he feels my gaze, he shifts his attention away from his book to my face. “Hey.”

  For a minute I’m still in that suspended state, swimming away into the open ocean with Kaleb the dolphin. “I was dreaming about the dolphins.”

  His face is still. “That was brilliant.”

  “Yeah.” I stretch my arms over my head. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “A while. I was going to wake you for dinner.”

  “I guess I should wash up.”

  “Yeah. In a minute. I want to talk to you.”

  I sit up. “About what?”

  He slips a bookmark between the pages and sets the book aside. I’m surprised by the carefulness of the habit. Mostly I just turn down the corner. Somehow it’s a relief to see this fussiness. Not at all my kind of guy, someone who does that.

  “About the awkwardness on set today.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, I’m sorry, I just—”

  He slides to the edge of the bed and faces me. Our knees are nearly touching, his face close to mine. Instantly I’m engulfed in the smell of his skin, a scent like watermelon and twilight and summer. It makes my heart skitter, and it’s impossible to look at him so close up.

  “What’s up, Jess?” he says quietly.

  I keep my eyes downcast, focusing on the bend of his knee, the dark stitching along his jeans. “I don’t know.”

  He nudges my knee with his. “Let’s just have some fun, yeah? Make some money.”

  I take a breath. We’re friends. He’s been so nice to me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. “Good idea.”

  He looks at me steadily.

  “What?”

  “We have a lot of kissing to do tomorrow. Are you going to be able to do that?”

  My cheeks flush. “I don’t know. And I really don’t want to get yelled at again.”

  “I don’t want you to. Maybe ask Colin what he’d do.” His mouth twists. “He must have had to kiss women once or twice.”

  I laugh. “You’re hardly revolting, Kaleb. That’s not the trouble.”

  His eyes seem to grow more intensely gold. For a couple of seconds I find myself falling into them, so close I can see the way his eyelashes lighten at the ends.

  Quietly, he asks, “So what is the trouble, Jess?”

  I force myself to straighten. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  He stands. “Talk to him. Let’s do a good job tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Everyone is in good spirits at dinner, and we’re all starting to get to know each other. Ian tells us that we’ve saved a lot of time, so we’ll probably get to Christchurch early and might have a rest day. Crew and cast tease and laug
h and drink pints of dark beer. It looks good, but I’m feeling so unsteady that I don’t want to let down my guard by drinking.

  Afterward I find Colin in the living room, texting. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  He nods, but he’s still typing.

  When he doesn’t even look up, I’m too embarrassed to ask. “Never mind.”

  “No, wait, sorry,” he calls. “What’s the matter, love?”

  I take a breath. “I was wondering if you have any tips for how to kiss on screen.”

  He blinks, as if this is nothing like whatever he was expecting. I feel my shyness overwhelm me, like a cotton blanket coming down over my head and making me too hot. I raise a hand. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I just—”

  “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. It’s fine. I can help. Come back.” He tucks his phone in his back pocket and stands. “We all feel uncomfortable at first, but it’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

  “Okay.”

  “The kiss doesn’t need to be passionate, the way it would be in real life, it just has to look passionate.” He tugs me over until I’m facing him. “Remember where the camera is, and be sure you’re facing the right way.” He gestures toward the right and touches his mouth. “This probably doesn’t even have to look all that passionate, since it’s a commercial, so closed lips.”

  He bends, and I lift my head. Our lips touch, and it’s no big deal at all. I straighten. “That’s it?”

  “You can embellish a bit if you like. Put your hand on my face and smile as you lean in. Let your eyes meet my eyes.”

  We practice that a couple of times, and then a few other variations.

  “One more,” he says. “Sooner or later you’ll have to do an open mouth kiss, and there’s a trick to that, too. Always have fresh breath, and remember that technique is more important than reality.”

  With a nod, I frown a little. “So just pretend tongues?”

  “Yes. Like this.” He touches my jaw and bends in. “Tilt your head.”

  So I do, and our half-open mouths connect. He makes a kissing move, pursing his lips, and I meet that, and then our lips are open again. It’s purely technical, and I can do it without the slightest bit of discomfort.