My Life as a Stuntboy

Home > Other > My Life as a Stuntboy > Page 5
My Life as a Stuntboy Page 5

by Janet Tashjian


  “When I tell you something like ‘keep the toys away from Frank,’ I don’t say it to ruin your fun. I say it to keep Frank safe.”

  “Is he going to die?” Out of all the questions in my mind, it’s the only one I care about right now.

  “Hopefully not, but he’s in distress. He hasn’t eaten in several hours, so operating now is the smartest thing.”

  wrath

  distress

  “Are you mad?”

  She shakes her head sadly. “I’m not mad. I just wonder when some of your listening and paying attention skills will kick in.”

  I don’t admit it’s something I wonder about too.

  abdomen

  “Can I be with Frank while you operate?”

  “That’s not appropriate, but you can help me prep him.”

  I’ve lived with a vet long enough to know what that means.

  “Come on,” she says. “I’ll let you shave his abdomen.”

  Under normal circumstances, I’d ask if I could give him a mohawk or do his back in stripes, but I’m grateful she’s not furious, so I don’t say a thing.

  Even when you include shaving a monkey, this still might be the worst afternoon of my life.

  A Horse of a Different Color

  Before Frank’s operation, I ask Mom if I can take the day off from school tomorrow to take care of him. She tells me I already missed two days this week for filming and insists I go. She’s been incredibly supportive about the fact that I almost killed our monkey; Dad, on the other hand, is using all the discipline he has not to explode like an angry volcano.

  supportive

  blockage

  He places the horse Mom took out of Frank in the middle of the table. “Do you see why we asked you to keep your toys away from Frank? Do you see how something like this could cause a blockage in his digestive system?”

  I nod yes, but most of my energy is focused on my toy horse. Frank’s stomach acids must’ve tried to break down the plastic because the horse looks a bit worn. I want to pick it up and examine it but realize this would push Dad past his breaking point.

  “We’re going to have to tell the people at the monkey placement organization about this. They might decide we’re not a good foster family and ask us to return Frank.”

  Dad didn’t need to tell me this. Losing Frank is all I’ve thought about since this happened.

  He rushes to the side door to let Mom in. She’s carrying Frank, who’s bandaged and still groggy.

  I ask Mom if I can hold him. My expression must look pretty sad because she says yes.

  groggy

  I sit on the couch and she lays Frank in my lap like a newborn baby. I want to hold him close to me but know he needs to be treated with care.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into his ear. “I’m really, really sorry.”

  It’s probably just my imagination, but it seems that when Frank looks at me, he smiles. Of course, it might just be the drugs from the operation. I hold him for a long while until Mom takes him to the kitchen to give him water with an eyedropper. The horse with the red banner still stands in the center of the table as if he’s guarding a fort for one of my knights. I throw him into the trash can and bury him under the coffee grounds and orange peels.

  My Own Kind of Stardom

  I ask Mom another fifty times if I can stay home to watch Frank, but she drives me to school anyway.

  “You haven’t been in class for two days,” she says. “You must be excited to see Matt.”

  For some reason, almost losing Frank yesterday makes me spill my guts to Mom about what’s going on with my best friend. I tell her Matt hasn’t been himself since I got hired for the movie.

  acknowledging

  “I only have two more stunts to do, and part of me wants to just get it over with so things can return to normal. But another part of me is furious with him for not acknowledging that I’ve just done something cool.”

  “Matt’s been under a lot of pressure,” Mom says. “Jamie hasn’t worked in months and just hangs around the house sleeping. His mom is really worried, so I’m sure that’s affecting Matt too.”

  vegetarian

  Jamie is Matt’s older brother who’s had lots of jobs since he graduated: he’s been a clerk at the DVD store in the mall, a waiter at the coffee shop in Westwood Village, a dishwasher at the vegetarian restaurant on Wilshire, and even mowed lawns for Carly’s mom at her landscaping company. Last time I saw him, it looked like he hadn’t showered in a week. When I said something to Matt, he told me he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Still, Jamie having problems is no reason for Matt to make fun of me,” I say.

  “I agree. But people don’t always do things that make sense, do they?”

  I know she’s right, but some of the sadness and anger from yesterday’s encounter still remains.

  “Remember when you were mad at Matt a few years ago because he planned his birthday party at the bowling alley on a day you couldn’t go? You two worked through that, didn’t you?”

  If I’d known the ride to school was going to turn into a therapy session, I would’ve stretched out on the backseat and pretended it was a psychiatrist’s couch. Besides, I don’t see how reliving a torturous event back in fourth grade will help Matt and me get back to normal—which is all I really care about. I tell Mom I’ll be back right after school and race to my locker before the bell.

  encounter

  psychiatrist

  torturous

  Carly, Maria, and Denise are waiting for me.

  “Did you meet Tanya Billings?” Carly asks. “She’s in the movie, right?”

  “I love her,” Denise says.

  “Her movies are amazing,” Maria adds.

  I open my locker and throw in my gear as if it’s another normal day. “Yeah, I met her. We hung out for a while—she’s really nice.”

  Maria and Denise actually start jumping up and down like they’re on pogo sticks. Thankfully, Carly calms them down.

  They make me tell them about Tanya in excruciating detail, and as I do, three girls turn into five, then eight, then twelve right before my eyes.

  excruciating

  “Okay, what’s going on out here?” Ms. McCoddle asks. “Everybody into the classroom.”

  Carly tells Ms. McCoddle what we’ve been talking about.

  “Maybe Derek can write a report about his day on a movie set and present it to the class,” suggests Ms. McCoddle.

  I panic at the realization that two days off from school could lead to extra work. “I’d love to, but I already told everybody everything. There’s nothing left to write about.”

  “Did you tell them you’re doing stunts for a girl?” The smirk on Joe’s face makes me want to hide inside my locker.

  Carly stops snapping her gum. “You’re Tanya Billings’s stuntperson?”

  Before I can answer, Swifty interrupts. “Must be nice skateboarding with a wig on.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with Swifty—so why is he suddenly acting like an expert on me?

  “Is that true?” Carly asks. “Did you have to wear a wig to pretend you were Tanya?”

  I look around and notice Matt. He’s got a huge grin, the same one I’ve seen on his face a hundred times, usually when he’s anticipating one of us making an awesome jump. But right now I don’t feel like he’s waiting for me to land on my feet; this time, he wants me to fall.

  I don’t intend to.

  “Tanya is great,” I say with bravado. “But she’s too afraid to do the obstacle course and climb over the wall, so that’s where I come in.”

  bravado

  I turn to Carly. “You should’ve seen us on the set yesterday—both wearing matching pajamas with these dogs all over them—hanging out at craft services—that’s what they call the trailer with all the free food. She was really supportive. When I was doing my stunt, she was standing with my dad, cheering me on from the sidelines. She already gave me a nickname�
�she calls me Doc. She asked my dad what day I was coming back so she could be there.”

  lasso

  Carly, Maria, and Denise go crazy, and I manage to lasso Joe and Swifty too. Joe asks me all kinds of questions about the free food, and Swifty wants to hear more about Tanya Billings. If Matt had some jealous plan to embarrass me for filling in for a girl, it didn’t work. For the rest of the day, everyone asks me about being on the set.

  At the end of school, I want to talk to Matt about something normal like Frank swallowing my horse to see if that will make us friends again. But Matt’s running down the hall and out the door—with Swifty and Joe by his side.

  Reading Circle

  I thought for sure Mom would cancel my tutoring session with Ronnie so I could take care of Frank, but when I get home, Ronnie’s in the kitchen skimming through my library book.

  “Boys, animals, skateboards—this looks good.”

  Maybe if I ignore Ronnie and the book, they’ll both go away. I go to the cage to check on Frank, but it’s empty.

  “Your mom said to tell you Frank is with her in the office today.”

  I head to the door to go see him, but Ronnie shakes his head. “You know what I like to do?”

  “Get puked on by monkeys?” I ask. I know I’m being rude, but the last thing I feel like doing after working hard in school all day is doing more work with a tutor.

  boomerang

  Ronnie doesn’t seem offended in the least. “No, I’d rather try and choke them with my toys.”

  Whoa! Ronnie’s insults come back to me like an evil boomerang. “It was an accident,” I say. “You weren’t even here.”

  “No, I was home preparing for today’s session.” He pats the seat of the chair next to him. “We’re going to start with my favorite activity—reading out loud.”

  “I haven’t done that since third grade.”

  “The reason you don’t do it isn’t because it’s babyish—it’s because you’re embarrassed to read in front of your classmates.”

  I suddenly hate Ronnie and wish Frank weren’t recuperating so he could throw up on him again.

  recuperating

  “That’s why I’m here,” Ronnie continues, “to get you to be a better reader so you can read out loud in class. Come on, we’ll take turns.”

  He opens the book and starts reading the first paragraph. I don’t interrupt him, hoping he’ll keep going and finish the entire chapter. To my surprise, he does.

  Afterward, he hands the book to me. “Your turn.”

  I do what I always do—look ahead to see how many pages are in the chapter.

  Ronnie stops me. “It doesn’t matter if there are three pages or thirty. Just read.”

  What kind of planet is Ronnie on? Of course there’s a difference between three pages and thirty! Twenty-seven, to be exact.

  distracted

  After a few moments, I look up to see if Ronnie is bored or frustrated with my reading, but my slow pace doesn’t seem to bother him. He motions for me to continue, but I’m distracted by someone running up the driveway. To my surprise, Matt bursts into the kitchen with his videocamera.

  “My mom just told me about Frank swallowing the red stallion. Is he okay?”

  I tell him Frank is all right but my favorite horse action figure didn’t survive the operation. I introduce him to Ronnie, then ask if we can cut our session short so I can hang out with Matt. I don’t tell him my best friend and I have been having a difficult time lately, but I’m hoping Ronnie will take pity on me anyway.

  He doesn’t.

  “We still have another half hour to go,” Ronnie says. “Why doesn’t Matt do his homework while we finish?”

  Matt and I both laugh, knowing there’s no way he brought over his homework. It’s the first normal friend moment we’ve had since the day Tony hired me.

  “I’ll go over and film Frank,” Matt says. “Then maybe we can ride down to the village.”

  hiccup

  It feels like a huge weight’s been lifted off my shoulders. I guess Mom was right; our fight was just a weird hiccup that all relationships have once in a while. I pick up the book and start reading, hoping the rest of our tutoring session goes by quickly.

  When I stumble on several words, Ronnie makes me slow down even more. To my ears, I sound like a second-grader, but he encourages me to go on.

  After each scene, Ronnie asks me questions about the characters and the story. I visualize the story in my mind like a movie, the way Margot—a camp counselor I once had—taught me to do.

  “Very good work,” he finally says. “I’ll see you next Tuesday, okay?”

  Before Ronnie’s even packed his bag, I’m out the door looking for Matt. I ask Mom’s receptionist if she’s seen him, but she says he left. I check on Frank, who’s sleeping, then run out to the street to see if Matt’s on his board. When I don’t see him, I send him a text.

  Matt texts back with:

  ddn’t wnt 2 interrupt. mom called 4 dinner.

  I answer back that it’s no problem and I’ll see him at school tomorrow. I’m a little disappointed we didn’t get a chance to hang out, but I’m happy that things are okay. And when Tony calls to tell me they’re filming my stunt next Thursday, the world finally seems a little less worrisome.

  worrisome

  The Fame Game

  slalom

  At school the next day, I’m surprised when Principal Demetri asks me to come to his office. I figure this might have something to do with someone—I’m not saying who—setting up a slalom course behind the school with the orange traffic cones from the parking lot. But the principal wants something else.

  Mr. Demetri introduces me to the two people in his office. The woman wears jeans and carries a notebook.

  “This is Mary Souza from the paper. She wants to do a story about your junior stuntman work.”

  “I write about movies,” Mary explains. “I thought this might be a good local-interest story.” She points to the man beside her. “This is Bill Hernandez. Do you mind if he takes some photos?”

  I want to suggest that Bill take some pictures of the slalom obstacle course, but I don’t have my board with me today. But Bill says he wants photos of me doing normal things like being at my locker or eating in the cafeteria. I’m flabbergasted when Mr. Demetri writes me a hall pass and tells me to give Mary all the information she needs.

  As Bill takes a photo of me getting books out of my locker, I can see everyone in the classroom straining to look through the window next to Ms. McCoddle’s door. Carly waves and smiles, but I’m more focused on Matt. He’s sitting behind her and can’t camouflage his disgust. This wasn’t my idea, I want to say. Mr. Demetri asked me to do it.

  flabbergasted

  camouflage

  While Bill runs out to his car, Mary and I sit on the chairs outside the media center to talk. She asks how I got involved in the film, what I liked best about being on set, and if I met Tanya Billings. She ignores the many calls coming into her cell and takes notes as we talk. As much as I’m happy for the attention, I’m a little embarrassed when our class goes down to the art room and everyone stares. Matt’s in the back of the line, making faces with Swifty and Joe.

  When Mr. Demetri asked me to do this, I felt special and important. Now, I just feel uncomfortable and wish the interview was over.

  “One last question,” Mary says. “If you had to do it again, would you?”

  “It’s been the best experience of my life,” I lie. “I’ve never had so much fun.”

  Hurray for Hollywood

  sentry

  Bodi seems to know that Frank’s been through some trauma because since the operation he hasn’t left Frank’s side. He sits next to Frank’s cage like a sentry and doesn’t realize the only person Frank needs protecting from is me.

  My mother checks the paper each morning, and when it comes on Sunday, she’s the first one to spot the article in the local section.

  “This is wonderful.�
�� She leans against the kitchen counter and drinks coffee as she reads. “You sound so grown up.” She spreads the paper out on the table so Dad and I can read it too.

  I break my own rule about reading on the weekends and check out the article—photos and captions first.

  “Really nice quote from Tony,” my father adds. “He says you were professional and prepared.”

  I ask my parents if we can scan that sentence in the printer and enlarge it a hundred times so I can hang it in the kitchen to point to every time they think I’m messing up.

  enlarge

  “You should be very proud.” It’s not really an answer to my question, but Mom seems happy enough that I can probably talk her into anything.

  As I put my dishes in the sink, I’m shocked by what I see on the windowsill. It’s the toy horse that almost killed Frank.

  “What’s this doing here? I threw him away!”

  consequences

  “I pulled him out of the trash,” Mom explains. “I thought he might serve as a reminder.”

 

‹ Prev