My Life as a Stuntboy

by Janet Tashjian

  One of the production assistants leads Tanya to the set to get ready for her scene.

  “That went well,” Tony says.

  “Really? You think so?”

  “I’m goofing on you,” he answers. “You were a mess! She’s a twelve-year-old kid too—you don’t have to be so nervous around her.”

  I tell Tony I won’t be such a loser next time.

  “Dude, there won’t be a next time. She’s the talent, you’re the stuntboy. When they’re filming your stunt, she’s gone for the day or shooting somewhere else. I’ve worked on tons of movies. Sometimes I barely meet the actor I’m jumping off buildings for.”

  Tanya walks across the lot with an entourage of assistants and makeup people. She looks over her shoulder and gives me a wave. “Good luck on your jump, Doc!”

  Like a knucklehead, I walk into a post as I wave good-bye.

  entourage

  The Jump

  fiasco

  “They’re ready for you,” Tony says. “All set?”

  The fiasco with Tanya got me off track, but the cup of hot chocolate and raisin bagel with cream cheese helps get me back on course. The director comes over and puts her arm around me.

  “If Tony says you’re the boy for the job, then you’re the boy for the job.” She pats me on the head, which sends the hair and makeup people running over to spruce me up. I haven’t been this fussed over since I was little and my mother used to try to beat down my cowlicks on school picture day.

  cowlicks

  The director shows me marks on the ground that she wants me to hit before I make it to the wall. “This way you’ll be in frame—from the back of course.” Tony and I run through the stunt one more time for the director to see. I start at the front steps of the house, jump over the wagon in the fake yard, vault over the table, and climb up and over the wall. After I’m done, I walk back around to the director.

  “That was perfect,” she says with a smile. “Do it just like that, and we’ll get it in one take.”

  This is probably the only time in my life I’ve ever done anything right the first time. When I look over at Dad, he’s beaming. I’m glad he saw this “perfection” too so I’ll have a witness to such a monumental event.

  monumental

  horrified

  As I smile back at him, I realize the person he’s standing there talking to is Tanya Billings.

  When she sees me looking, she waves. “Go, Doc! Go, Doc! Go, Doc!”

  I am horrified and run back to take my mark.

  “Would you stop trying to impress her?” Tony laughs. “She was having a farting contest with the actor who plays her father yesterday. She’s just a kid like you.”

  The thought of Tanya Billings of television and movie fame having a farting contest makes me laugh out loud, and when the director shouts “action!” I run through all the obstacles in the backyard and scramble up the wall as if aliens really are chasing me. I’m on the other side of the wall when the director yells “cut!”

  The next thing I hear causes me to break into a giant grin—the crew is applauding.

  “Great job, Derek.” Collette turns to the assistant director. “I think that’s a keeper.”

  The assistant director calls over to the camera assistant to “check the gate.” I know from being on sets with my father that the cameraman or -woman needs to look into the camera to make sure no hairs or dust ruined the shot before the crew goes on to the next scene. All the crewmembers stand quietly and wait for the camera assistant.

  “All set,” she says.

  “We’re moving on, people,” the assistant director says to the crew.

  “The junkyard scene is in a few days,” the director says. As she walks with me, three other people follow her, waiting to ask her a million questions. It’s kind of like the director is the teacher and everybody else on set is a student. “Tony will give you a call to let you know when.”

  whisked

  And before I get a chance to thank her for letting me be a part of her movie, she’s whisked away by one of her assistants.

  “You were amazing,” Dad says. “One-Take Fallon. You want to go to craft services to celebrate?”

  I try to catch a glimpse of Tanya Billings, but everyone has moved to another part of the soundstage to get ready for the next shot. My father guesses who I’m looking for.

  “She was calling you Doc.” Dad laughs. “I told her your name was Derek.”

  “You and Tanya Billings were having a discussion about me?” I’d sink into the ground with embarrassment if I weren’t too busy trying to decide which candy bar to eat first.

  “She had to prepare for the next scene, so she couldn’t stay,” Dad says, “but she asked what day you were coming back.”

  “She did?” Even shelves full of candy bars are not as important as this extraordinary news.

  extraordinary

  “She did.” Dad’s grin is so wide, I can see the silver fillings on his back teeth. “I think she likes you.”

  I can’t decide if I’m horrified or thrilled to be having this conversation with my dad. On the drive home, I make him repeat his conversation with Tanya Billings fifty times.

  Back to Reality

  When I get home, school is still in session, so I go to Mom’s office to tell her about my stunt. I wait until she finishes examining the dachshund with the bladder infection, then tell her how I met Tanya Billings and how I needed only one take.

  dachshund

  “I found something I’m good at,” I say. “Something I can do without support and reminders every five minutes.”

  reminders

  antiseptic

  My mother washes her hands with the antiseptic soap as she talks. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about this as a career! Stuntmen have shoot-outs and drive cars a hundred miles an hour. You’re not going to grow up and do that for a living, are you?”

  candidates

  How did the conversation go from “I’m so proud of you” to “you can’t do that!” in less than five seconds?

  “I just wanted to tell you about my day. Sheesh.”

  “Well, it sounds wonderful. And I’m glad you’re back early because one of the tutor candidates is coming at four. You can let me know what you think.”

  The artificial world of the movie suddenly seems like the best possible place to live. No homework, no tutors, no worried parents—just free food, stunts, and pretty movie stars with soft hands.

  “Can you see if Frank needs to be changed?” she asks. “He seemed a little sluggish this morning. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

  sluggish

  Mom stands by the door with her file folder and calls the next patient. A woman in the waiting room grabs two cat crates from the floor and hurries into the examination room; she looks like she’s rushing to catch a plane with armloads of luggage.

  Before she follows the woman into the room, Mom turns to me. “See you in a few hours, Doc.”

  It’s one of those parent comments that’s funny and not funny at the same time.

  communicating

  I head into the house to check on Frank, hoping I’ll have some time to myself before school lets out and the tutor arrives. I check my cell to see if Matt texted me. He didn’t. It’s probably the longest we’ve gone without communicating unless one of us was on vacation.

  I decide to take things into my own hands and wait for him at his house after school.

  Can Someone Tell Me What’s Going On?

  I see Matt walking down the street before he sees me. When he does, I’m relieved to see him smile.

  “How’d it go?” he asks.

  “I had a blast. I left you texts and a voicemail—did you get them?”

  relieved

  He nods. “Yesterday was nuts. You know the parking garage at UCLA? I tried climbing up the side and fell. That guard was furious. My leg is bruised, but nothing broke.”

  daredevil

  “You’ve never eve
n done the bottom row of that garage—I can’t believe you tried to go all the way up. Were you by yourself?”

  He nods again.

  “We said we wouldn’t do parkour without someone else there. You could’ve gotten hurt. Why are you acting like such a daredevil?”

  “What—I’m the scaredy-cat, and you’re the big, bad stuntman? You think you’re the only one who can climb twenty-foot walls?”

  android

  “No, of course not. You just need to be careful.”

  “Are you giving advice now?”

  I’m wondering if the aliens who abducted my parents have now replaced my best friend with an envious android. I try to steer the subject back on track by telling Matt about Tanya Billings. I even tell him Tanya asked my dad when I’d be back on set.

  “She did not!” Matt jumps off the stairs and throws his backpack into the air. “Can I meet her too?”

  I tell Matt that I asked Tony the same question, but he said no visitors on set. Matt sits back down.

  “Who does she play in the movie, your character’s sister?”

  “Uhm, actually, she is the main character. She plays Chris.”

  Matt seems confused. “You’re doing stunts for Tanya Billings?”

  “Sure am.” And pretty proud of it too.

  “You’re doing stunts for a GIRL?” Matt collapses onto the ground with laughter. “Why didn’t you tell me you were playing a girl? That’s hilarious!”

  “I’m not playing anything,” I say. “I’m not an actor. I do her stunts.”

  “Yes, but when you climb over that twenty-foot wall, you’re doing it as a girl, right? That’s beautiful.” He pulls out his cell and starts texting.

  “Who are you texting? No one cares!”

  “Joe and Swifty will love this,” Matt answers.

  transferred

  “I miss two days of school, and you start hanging out with those knuckleheads?”

  We’ve known Joe since first grade; Swifty is a kid who transferred to our school last year and lives next door to Carly. He’s got a sick sense of humor and walks so slowly, Matt and I nicknamed him Swifty his first week here.

  “Why on earth would you do stuff with them?” I ask. “They don’t even skateboard.” As soon as I say it, I realize how stupid it sounds: Matt and I have been friends since way before we started skateboarding. He’s always meant more to me than someone to ride with.

  “Swifty’s dad manages a storage facility down by the highway. You should’ve seen us running through this huge warehouse of crates. I even sat in a forklift. It was real, a hundred times better than a movie set.”

  facility

  Matt picks up his phone on the first ring. “I’m with the stuntboy,” Matt says. “He’s doing stunts for a GIRL.”

  “Not just a girl,” I grumble. “Tanya Billings.”

  “I guess they needed someone petite,” Matt continues. “Someone Tanya Billings’s size.”

  petite

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask. “You’re wrecking everything!” I jump on my board and head down Matt’s driveway.

  physics

  “See you tomorrow,” Matt calls. “Stuntgirl!”

  If I ever make it through middle school and end up taking high school physics, I hope the teacher explains the universal principle of how a day can go from being the best you’ve ever had to the absolute, total worst.

  You Thought That Was Bad …

  By the time I get home, I’m still stunned. When Matt won the mountain bike at the church raffle last year, I was happy for him. When his father’s friend invited Matt to a Lakers playoff game, I thought that was great too. Why can’t he be glad when something good happens to me?

  Nothing exhausts me more than pondering these kinds of questions, so I walk in the door and collapse on the couch. All I want to do is rub Bodi’s belly. But a twenty-something-year-old guy with black nerdy glasses is sitting at the table drinking iced tea with Mom. I figure he’s one of her vet interns until I realize she’s using her mom voice and not her doctor voice. Which means he’s here for the tutoring job.

  stunned

  pondering

  scurries

  “Derek,” Mom says, “meet Ronnie. Ronnie, Derek.”

  He gets up to shake my hand and knocks over his iced tea. As my mother scurries for a towel, Ronnie blushes and gives a little shrug. I didn’t think it was possible to cause more spills than I do; maybe this guy is okay.

  Mom asks me to show Ronnie the sketchbook with my vocabulary drawings. He laughs when he sees them and shows me his own notebook with lots of lightning bolts and wizards in the margins. I’m not sure if Mom’s impressed, but any guy who draws instead of paying attention in class is all right with me.

  As Ronnie discusses what days he’s available, I lift up the piece of fabric covering Frank’s cage. He’s been very quiet since I got home, and now he’s just lying there. I ask Mom if he’s okay.

  available

  “I usually won’t take him out of the cage when there’s a stranger here—monkeys really prefer to be with people they know—but he does seem sick.” Mom cradles Frank in her arms like a baby.

  projectile

  “You have a monkey?” Ronnie asks. “That’s so cool!”

  “You can’t hold him,” I say, “but you can pet him if you want.”

  Ronnie reaches over to pet Frank just as Frank leans his head back and hurls. Not just a little dribble—big, projectile stuff that lands all over Ronnie and everything on the kitchen table.

  “Derek, get a towel from the bathroom! Ronnie, I am so sorry!” Mom quickly puts Frank back in the cage to clean up Ronnie and the kitchen.

  Frank is moaning, Mom is apologizing, Ronnie is wiping off vomit from his shirt, and all I’m thinking is, For once, this has nothing to do with me.

  “Well, I guess this is the last place you want to work now,” Mom tells Ronnie. “I can’t say I blame you.”

  “Are you kidding?” Ronnie asks. “I just got puked on by a monkey—I guarantee things can’t get any worse.”

  guarantee

  “Uhm … I wouldn’t hold my breath,” I say.

  Mom shoots me a giant piece of MomMad and turns to Ronnie. “You mean you’re still interested in the job?”

  “Sure.” He turns to me. “If Derek approves, of course.”

  As much as I don’t want to spend a few hours a week with some stranger standing over me while I read, Ronnie seems pretty cool, and I say yes. He washes his hands and face before he leaves, then says he’ll see me on Thursday.

  After he’s gone, Mom opens Frank’s cage. “I’m going to give him a quick exam. There’s definitely something going on.”

  I hold open the door for Mom and hope everything’s okay with my monkey.

  Oops …

  When my mother comes back in the house with Frank forty-five minutes later, she’s not happy. She places him gently in his cage, then motions for me to follow her to the office. Her silence makes me think something’s wrong, so I take a mental scan of all the things I’ve done since I’ve been home and, thankfully, come up empty.

  Most of the time, Mom’s veterinary office is jammed with people and their pets, so I like it when it’s after hours and everything is quiet. She leads me into the first examination room, turns on the light panel mounted to the wall, and puts up an X-ray.

  radiologist

  “Are those Frank’s insides?” I ask.

  “Yes.” She points to a spot that’s almost the size of a quarter. “What do you think that is?”

  I stare at the circle as if I am now a radiologist. “A tumor? Does Frank have cancer?”

  “It’s inside his stomach, but I don’t think it’s a tumor.” She looks at me with her Most Serious Face. “Did you let Frank play with anything he wasn’t supposed to?”

  “No! You told me never to give him things he could swallow. He’s my monkey too—I don’t want him to get sick.”

  “Fair enough. Did you
ever leave him alone with any of your toys?”

  “No—I already told you.” I’ve barely finished the sentence when I remember lining up my knights on the living room table the other night before dinner. “I left the room for only a second! He couldn’t have.”

  I run back inside the house and take down my box of small action figures from the shelf. The blue knight, the red knight, the green knight with the mace … I dump the box onto the floor to make sure the whole set is there. I realize with a sinking feeling that the horse with the red banner is not with the others.

  “Are you missing any?” Mom’s voice is so calm, it scares me more than if she were yelling.

  I check under the living room couch and table but don’t find it. “The horse is gone. Do you think Frank swallowed it?”

  “We’ll find out soon enough. I just paged Melanie to come assist me. Whatever’s in Frank’s digestive system is too big to pass. I’m going to have to go in and get it.”

  retrieve

  I close my eyes and lean against the wall. This morning I was on a movie set doing stunts, talking to a movie star. By the end of the day, my best friend’s making fun of me, I have a homework tutor, and my mother’s going to cut open my adopted monkey to retrieve my horse. How do these things happen? I put all these questions on hold to deal with my mother’s wrath. Except she isn’t furious; she just seems sad.