Garrett & Sunny: Sometimes Love is Funny

by Peter Butler

  Back at the hotel we went through our gymnastics routine again, this time in reverse, to extract ourselves from the little Golf. The hotel Night Manager was particularly amused by my performance as he held driver's door for me.

  'Thank... you fur a wunner..ful night and every... thing you did for us to.. day, Zammy,' I announced on behalf of our little group. 'You are, without doubt a national treasure... and when you next come to London I insisst... you look up me.' I was slurring my words and Sammy was grinning at my pathetic attempt at chivalry.

  'Thank you Garrett, I promise to look up you.' She gave me a hug and kissed me twice on the cheek. Tim got similar treatment, which hardly seemed fair, as I was the one who gave the speech.

  'Away we go... my merry band... of men,' I said, to rally my troops. 'We need to let this incredible woman get to bed... she has books to devour in the morning.'

  Truf held his ground. 'I'll join you two in a little bit,' he said. 'I have a question or two that I'd like to put to Sammy before we say goodbye.'

  'Does it involve electrical bio...mechanical dynamics... or, whad-ever she's studying?' I slurred.

  'Hopefully not,' Truf said, as he literally pushed me towards the hotel entrance.

  Truf and Sammy were still standing close together beside the car as Tim and I were standing outside the elevator, both examining our hotel swipe cards for some indication which floor we needed to go to. Eventually the manager came over and suggested we try Level 6. Rooms 615 and 618. What a clever chap to know that.

  Travel and time-zones make a mess of me. Add too much wine and things get properly screwed up. I woke at 5:30, according to my bedside clock radio. I checked my phone, which I had deliberately left on London time - 7:30 p.m.. Perfect for calling Sunny, but not perfect for me, my head felt very second-hand.

  I knew only one way to clear it quickly; I decided to go for a run for half an hour, then have a quick shower and call Sunny when I was refreshed. I consulted a map which showed a large park nearby. I changed into my jogging gear and left.

  The first ten minutes of pounding the track that wound its way through the park were hell. The next ten had me feeling almost normal and the last ten brought me totally up to speed. Metaphorically. At this hour of the morning the streets were eerily quiet, but the weather was perfect. I had barely built up a sweat as I pounded my way up to the front of the hotel. I slowed to a walk as I reached the doors.

  I had my hand poised to punch the up button when the elevator light lit up and made a little "ping". The doors slid open and Sammy came striding out, turned and almost bumped into me.

  'Oops!' she said, with a cheeky grin.

  'Hey, what are the odds?' We both laughed to cover any potential embarrassment.

  'What can I say?' she said, 'We really hit it off. He's a great guy.'

  'You don't have to sell me on that, Sammy. He's been my best friend since before we became teenagers. I'm really happy for the both of you.'

  She gave me a long, hard look, then said, 'Have you got time for a coffee?'

  I was hardly dressed for a social situation, but I still said yes.

  We made an interesting pair as we entered the hotel's 24hr restaurant. Me, all sweaty and wearing a T shirt and joggers. She, dressed as she was the night before, looking sensational, but more than a little overdressed for breakfast. The staff were just setting up the Buffet Breakfast but the waitress was happy to get us two coffees.

  After we settled into our booth we made small talk for a minute or two before our coffees arrived. I took a sip and felt another piece of my recovery fall into place.

  'Ah, that's good,' I said. 'You probably didn't notice, but I had a little too much to drink last night.' I grinned at her.

  'Really!' she said as she gave me a wry look. 'Couldn't tell.' She shook her head.

  'Are you mocking me, young lady?'

  She smiled. 'You looked like you needed to be mocked...'

  'What did you want to talk about at this obscene hour of the day?' I asked, trying to not give the impression I wanted to leave.

  'We didn't get much of a chance to get to know each other, yesterday. I thought we could make a start this morning.'

  'Okay,' I agreed. 'You go first.'

  'I'm easy,' she said, and rolled her eyes when she realized what she'd said. 'I'm twenty-six and working on my PhD. Dad lets me work at the car yard three days a week selling cars to guy's who seem to like dealing with me,' she grinned, and shrugged her shoulders. 'I'm pretty good at the job, apparently, and make a terrific living. I'm hoping to finish my thesis in the next six months and if it's well received I've been promised a grant to continue working on my process with an option to take a 5% royalty of any future profits or, if I wish, a lump sum, the amount to be determined after the results are finalized. I'm pretty sure it will all work out so things are looking good.' She paused and looked me in the eye. 'And now I've just met a guy who I think has the potential to play a big role in my life.'

  'I should stop you there, Sammy. Save you some embarrassment,' I said with a grin, 'and warn you I'm pretty sure I'm already taken.'

  She shook her head in mock disappointment. 'Ooh! I'm devastated,' then she laughed. 'I like you Gary, you're good fun. Anyway, we're cousins and I couldn't risk having children with potential medical problems.'

  'That's all crap,' the pragmatic part of my brain momentarily kicked-in. 'We're second cousins and the chances of deformities or other problems are about the same as any couple. Hell, you're the scientist. Why am I telling you?'

  'I know all that Gary, I was just trying to let you off the hook gently, in case you were serious,' she smiled at me. 'And what do you mean, "you're pretty sure you're taken already"?' She raised her eyebrows, questioningly, 'What are you waiting for? Is she meant to take out a full-page ad, or something?'

  I briefly explained the newness and complexities of my relationship with Sunny.' She laughed when I said her name.

  'Sunny and Sammy. Why don't Truf and you change your names to Donny and Danny? We could be a soap opera.'

  We talked for a few more minutes during which a crucial point in time must have ticked over because a steadily increasing number of patrons started to fill the tables around us. Buffet Breakfast is open for business, apparently. We decided we had been subjected to enough judgmental looks from the new arrivals and left the restaurant. I walked with her to the hotel entrance.

  'I'm really glad we met, Sammy. I want to stay in touch with you.'

  'We will. But just how much, depends on that big buddy of yours, upstairs.'

  'You mean, God?' I said, with a smile.

  She absorbed what I said, and then answered, 'Yes... You could say that.'

  She kissed me and walked out the door.

  ***

  Sunny had spent the entire next day at Bang-On Cutting. A small editing company that Simon employed to handle the piecing together of each show. Dougie Dunn was in charge of the process. A veteran with over thirty years experience, Dougie had worked on major films and TV shows and his experience and touch were invaluable.

  Sunny's role had been to mainly let Dougie know which "take" of each scene had been her and the Director's choice to be included in the show. This was important as many of the scenes had numerous versions shot, some with different camera angles, some with stuff-ups that made them ineligible and some that were just plain boring, or bad. The majority of each day's work ended up on Dougie's floor. Well, metaphorically speaking, as these days everything was digital and nothing actually ended up on the floor or was even actually erased. They kept everything because it cost almost nothing to do that, and you never knew when a small part of something might be useful.

  To say nothing ended up on the floor was not correct. Dougie was a relentless note-taker, constantly marking in-points and frame numbers on the pad he kept beside him. In moments of inactivity at his computer desk he drew doodles. These were the times when Simon and Sunny discussed ideas on which he had no input to offer. The pa
ges filled quickly and were discarded just as quickly. Whilst Dougie could cut a scene frame perfectly, those same hands lacked the ability to hit the waste-bin with any level of consistency. The result of twelve unbroken hours of editing was that the floor near the bin had turned white with countless balls of scrunched up paper.

  This wasn't the only area where rubbish had piled-up. The desk that Sunny was using had become the resting place for the cardboard coffee cups that the four people in the room had no further use for. The fourth member was Robbie, the audio engineer. He was a quiet, almost invisible type of man who patiently sat at his console and, on-cue, performed his tasks with the consummate ease of someone who was more comfortable with knobs and dials, than people. If Dougie required a sound-effect of the most obscure thing, like a snail sliding across a bell, Robbie would have something appropriate within seconds. Robbie's console had become an extension of his personality. He had the annoying habit of punctuating actual conversations, the other people in the room were having, with sound-effects. If someone said something profound they would all hear a Ta - Da! trumpet out of the massive overhead JBL speakers. The punchline of a joke would find that an audience of many hundreds had enjoyed hearing it, also.

  The first few times Robbie did these things were amusing, but after twelve hours Sunny found herself actually contemplating if it might be worth doing the jail time she'd incur from permanently shutting Robbie down.

  She was saved by Simon.

  'I say we call it a day Dougie,' he said. 'Good work, everyone. We'll pick it up again at 9 tomorrow morning?' He looked at Dougie for confirmation.

  'That sounds like a plan,' Dougie agreed, the weariness showing through in spite of his best efforts to hide it.

  Sunny and Simon began to gather up their personal items. Sunny checked her messages and turned her phone off for the night. Dougie and Robbie began shutting down their consoles and turning off monitors.

  'I'm taking Sunny for a quick bite to eat. Anyone want to join us?' Simon said.

  'Thanks Simon, but I can't. I still have some office work to do,' Dougie answered with a glum look.

  'No thanks,' Robbie quickly said, fearing he'd be involved in an uncomfortable social situation that would see him completely out of his depth.

  Half an hour later Sunny and Simon where unwinding over their second drink while they waited for their pub meals to be served.

  'I gave some thought to your suggestion that I might be able to move to an on-camera role in the future,' Sunny said. 'I enjoy being a line producer, but it's a lot of work and the money isn't terrific. Plus the thought of waiting for you to retire, or stoke-out, to get your job doesn't seem all that attractive.'

  'For me either,' Simon chipped in.

  Sunny smiled at him, then continued, 'I guess you could say that I'm... interested.'

  Simon looked at her with an intrigued look on his face. After studying her for some time, he said, 'It's not easy getting that first break, you know... How badly do you want it?'

  Was something being implied with that question? Sunny wondered. She eventually decided it was reasonable to ask. If Simon was going to introduce her to the people who matter, with regard to these things, and by doing so, endorse her, then he had a right to know if she would turn her back and walk away at the first sign of things getting tough.

  'It's not narcissism or even a monetary thing,' Sunny answered after thinking it through. 'It's being able to have a say in things, and have it matter, and to be a part of popular culture. That is something I want very much.'

  'I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think you'd be wonderful. Whenever you walk on set and the camera catches a glimpse of you I find myself staring. Even when there's some serious eye-candy competition, like on Ashleigh's tennis court. When you walked up to him, Brian had his camera set up in a position that had Ashleigh, the bimbo and you, all in shot. I looked at both Brian and the audio guy and I could see they were both focused on you,' he raised his eyebrows and nodded to her to emphasize his conclusion. 'When you stand in front of a camera, every guy wants you.'

  Sunny was uncomfortable with the direction this had gone. 'Just having a guy want you, isn't that great an achievement for the average woman,' she said. 'I'd happily wager you that any woman in this bar could stand on the table and say to the room - "Any guy who would like to come home with me tonight should line up here." and she'd get that line almost immediately.'

  'That's different, Sunny. It's a direct offer to have sex. The camera is not like that, because it takes the offer off the table, to borrow your example. But it still creates the want. A want that can't be satisfied, which makes it even stronger.'

  Sunny was about to make another point but their meals arrived and the waitress had to interrupt them to ask who had ordered what. That broke the rhythm of their discussion and their hunger soon took over and they found themselves ravenously attacking their food.

  Sunny replayed the conversation in her mind as she ate and decided she'd been overreacting with her concerns about Simon. He was a pretty serious guy and his career meant a lot to him. It was just coincidental that sex had been the topic, two days in a row. The conversations had to have been purely academic.

  ***

  Back in my room I showered and dressed in what I thought would be acceptable outback attire. I wondered if I should make sure the others were awake before I called Sunny, but decided they were both responsible adults.

  I used the hotels' phone knowing international calls were as common and as easy to make as calls to someone in the next suburb these days. I dialed the international numbers for London and then her number, a complete sequence of numbers that I now knew by heart, and waited for her to pick-up.

  'Hi,' her cheerful voice said. 'This is Sunny, please leave a message after the beep..'

  Shit...!

  I waited for the beep to end, hoping that my frustration would remain in-check when I eventually left the message. 'Hi Sunny. It's Gary. I was hoping to actually talk to you, but that never seems possible. Would you do me a favor and allow my new best friend, your phone, to have dinner with me when I get back to London. You can tag along, too... if you're not too busy.' I laughed, to dilute my sarcasm, but did a poor job. 'I'm about to head off to the middle of Australia and bravely do battle with the wildlife and the trees, and my phone won't have reception out there. I'll email you Truf's satellite phone number. Please call me. I'll be thinking of you. Stay safe.'

  I hung up.

  Crap...!

  Chapter 6

  I decided to drive the first leg of our mammoth journey into the wilderness. Before we left the city we needed to stock up on some amenities. I had already told our GPS where we wanted to go and I think I heard the voice inside the machine actually groan at the prospect of hitting the outback. Truf was busy searching its database for a camping store as I gingerly made my way through the unfamiliar streets.

  Truf diverted us to a store where we bought three tents and three sleeping bags, just in case we had to rough it. I hadn't bothered to book rooms at a hotel in Culgawinya, in fact I didn't even know if they had a pub. Stupid statement - this was Australia: First, you build the pub, then you can start on the town. Whether the pub, or pubs, had guest rooms, I didn't know. Did they even have phones? Electricity? A sheriff? A blacksmith? I'm being harsh, we were only traveling to the country not back in time.

  I hope.

  We bought things we thought we might need; a hotplate, a couple of torches, a cooler, a first-aid kit, a lamp and so on. I asked if they had anti-venom. The salesman thought I was joking, I wasn't, but to cover my rookie gaff I laughed along with him. It was a long list of purchases, but as none of us were campers, or even hikers, we most likely forgot some essentials. Next, we went to a supermarket and stocked up on food for the trip. We bought a few cases of bottled water; I remembered the description of the local billabong. Plus, some bags of ice for the cooler. I wondered how long that would take until they became bags of warm water. As
we were leaving, I noticed a toy store next to the supermarket and my mind flashed back to the photograph of Warra's family in Gran's book. I remembered the little girl who had died mysteriously and I quickly made a diversion.

  Tim saw me heading for the toy store and he peered at me like the heat must have effected me, but he still came along; toys are his business, after-all. When I explained what I was doing he actually took control of the purchasing, which I was more than happy with. I didn't have an exact tally of the number of kids, so we also bought some footballs, basketballs, badminton sets and other games that could be shared around.

  I made a point of hiding the toys in the back of the Land Cruiser so the kids wouldn't see them. I have no idea of the political correctness of buying total strangers kids presents, so I intended to ask Warra first before we handed them out.

  Gran had pointed out that the aboriginal communities are "dry". She wasn't referring to the lack of water, but the problem of alcoholism, so that scuttled my original plan to buy Warra a gift. In the end I decided to go empty handed to the elder members of the tribe. I absolved myself of guilt by reinforcing in my mind, that we were trying to give Warra back his land. And, from what I could gather, that would be the ultimate gift.

  We gradually left the built-up area of the city behind us, houses and shops were replaced with paddocks and trees, and began our trek to the great beyond. I could tell each of us felt like a modern day version of Columbus in our air conditioned four wheel drive, with our snacks for the journey by our side. The map we purchased at the camping store suggested that we actually weren't trekking very far into the Queensland outback. Our journey across the state only took in the first third of its width. Then, if we continued on, there was the Northern Territory and then Western Australia.

  In perspective, we were barely leaving the coast. Did that bring crocodiles back into my calculations of things to feed my paranoia? Things that would undoubtedly try to kill me?