Sean Rosen Is Not for Sale

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Sean Rosen Is Not for Sale Page 16

by Jeff Baron


  After lunch, they split us into groups and took us on a walk around the place. This was a “walk,” not a “hike.” We can take a hike after the walk, if we want to. I probably wouldn’t want to, but Ethan definitely does, and the other activities you can choose are a soccer game with Mr. Obester (that’s where Javier will be), or boats that you pedal on the lake.

  I might have wanted to do the pedal boats, but it’s not warm enough to swim, and the lake isn’t very big, and you have to wear life preservers and take a boat safety class first.

  On our walk, the guide told us about all the nature we can see while we’re at the wilderness retreat. You know, rocks and trees and insects and things. I asked if there are any bears, and she said almost definitely not. I asked her what she means by “almost.”

  Ethan, who hardly ever talks to anyone except me (and now my mom and dad), was asking a lot of questions, and once even corrected something the guide said that was wrong. She didn’t mind. She was glad that someone else besides her is interested in nature.

  All the hiking trails start at the same place. There’s The Easy Trail, The Moderate Trail and The Difficult Trail. You can guess which trail I wanted to take. I thought I might at least be able to talk Ethan into The Moderate Trail, but no.

  “Come on, Sean. You’re strong. You’re the King of the Pull-ups.” That’s actually true. I can do more pull-ups than anyone in the school, but you would never know it if you saw me. “It’ll be an adventure.”

  I said yes, partly because I know Ethan still has his phone, and we can call for help. He’s sure we won’t have to, because he knows what to do.

  They gave all of us bottles of water and healthy snack bars, and told us not to litter, then we all went to our activities or trails.

  The Difficult Trail is difficult as soon as you start it. It goes up and up and up. Ethan says that’s good, because we’ll get through the hard part while we’re still fresh. I actually don’t feel that fresh. I’m not used to getting up so early on a Saturday, especially after a tiring week with Baxter and the bidding war and everything else.

  There aren’t many kids taking The Difficult Trail. So far we haven’t seen anyone. Any people, that is. We saw a fox squirrel (which is more squirrely than foxy), a raccoon and a little family of deer. It was actually very cool. I got a nice picture of the baby deer before they all saw us and ran away.

  I never saw Ethan so happy. He loves hiking, and he loves telling you all about what you’re seeing. I guess Ethan was being his Uncle Neil and I was being him. I don’t know if I’ll remember everything he’s telling me, but it’s fun seeing how excited he can get about a bird or which berries you can eat.

  Ethan had to pee, so he went into the woods, and I waited on the trail and looked around. It’s so quiet. I didn’t realize how high up we hiked. Then I heard some sounds from behind me.

  It was Doug and Myles, one of his football friends.

  “Look what’s here.” That’s what Doug always used to say when he saw me before he thought I could help the band get famous. Now he knows I can’t.

  “Where’s your girlfriend, Rosen?” He means Brianna. He knows she’s not my girlfriend. “Are you lost on the mountain, you little ___________?” (not a nice word)

  I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.

  He walked over and stood close to me. I hate when he does this.

  “Oh, does little Sean want to go home? I see a shortcut.”

  I looked where he was looking. It’s a steep part of the mountain behind the trail where I was standing. If someone pushed you, it wouldn’t be good. You might not fall all the way to the bottom, but you’d definitely crash into a lot of rocks.

  Myles laughed. “‘Fifth Grader Killed in Hiking Accident.’ Oh, that’s right. He only looks like a fifth grader.”

  Doug moved even closer to me. Close enough to push me off the trail. “They’ll probably find you. Sooner or later.”

  “Hey, Doug . . .” It was Ethan. Doug and Myles were surprised to see him. I was, too. I didn’t hear him walk up. How can someone as big as Ethan move so quietly? “I want you to meet my friend.”

  I moved away from the edge of the trail, and Ethan took his hand from behind his back and pulled out a really, really big snake. You could tell it was alive, because it kept moving its long, slithery body around.

  Ethan held the snake near Doug’s face. “Say hello to Doug . . . Poison.”

  The snake wiggled his tongue and made a scary sound. It was the only sound you could hear. Doug couldn’t move. He looked like he was going to die of fear right there.

  Then Ethan said, “They’ll probably find you. Sooner or later.”

  The snake made that sound again.

  Myles grabbed Doug and pulled him away. They ran down the trail together.

  Ethan was still holding the snake. I didn’t get too close.

  “Um . . . Poison?”

  “Oh. No. She’s not poisonous.”

  “She?”

  “Yeah. The females are bigger and a little meaner. It’s just a hognose snake.”

  “Did you have it in your backpack, or . . .”

  “No. She was on the ground. You pick them up with a forked stick. I just brought her back to show you.”

  “Thanks. Excellent timing, Ethan. I hope Doug brought that extra pair of underwear.”

  Chapter 40

  I got a picture of Ethan holding Poison before he let her go. The rest of the hike was nice. The trail ended at the top of the mountain, and you could really see a lot, including the soccer game and the pedal boats on the lake.

  I was glad when we got back. I had to go to the bathroom, and after meeting Poison, I didn’t really want to go in the woods. Ethan is going to take a shower. I looked at the showers. They’re in the same building where the bathrooms are. It’s one big room with like 20 showers and no shower curtains. Sorry. I don’t think of taking a shower as a group activity.

  I don’t love group activities. Maybe it’s because I’m an only child, but I actually need to have a little time by myself every day. I guess it’s what I’m used to, and after a whole day of being with other people, even just one other person and one snake, I like to be alone for a little while.

  That’s a little hard here, because there are kids in our cabin and kids everywhere you look. I could probably be alone on The Difficult Trail, but I had enough hiking for today, and that’s a place where I don’t really want to be alone.

  I remembered that there are some chairs on the porch outside the mess hall, so I took the book I’m reading, and I went there. It’s quiet, with just the sounds of people inside getting dinner ready. I read for a little while, then I went back to the cabin to change.

  It’s getting a little cool out, and after dinner we’re having a campfire. I don’t know if a campfire keeps you warm or not. Ethan would know, but he isn’t around. Maybe he’s collecting non-poisonous berries for dessert.

  After that long hike, and forgetting to eat my snack, I was really hungry. Javier sat with Ethan and me. He had fun playing soccer, which he calls fútbol. His team won, as usual.

  I showed him the picture of the snake, but I decided not to tell him the whole Doug story. I don’t really like when kids tell me things about other kids, so I usually keep my mouth shut. About other kids, I mean.

  Becca, a girl I don’t really know (except I sort of know everyone from working on the yearbook), came over to our table.

  “You’re Sean, right?”

  Javier said, “Right.”

  “Wait.” She looked confused, then said to Javier, “You’re Sean?”

  “No. I am Javier. I am very happy to meet you.”

  She looked at him for a second, then said, “Whichever of you is Sean, here.” She put an envelope on the table and walked away.

  I opened the envelope. There was a note inside.

  Dear Sean,

  I can’t text you because they took your phone, so I’m writing to you on this cute
stationery from the B&B. I know I’m supposed to be helping with the yearbook pictures, but I just can’t be at that place.

  Maybe I’m a little more upset about you-know-who than I thought.

  Sorry. See you back in civilization.

  ♥ Bri

  “Amigo, how do you do it? All the pretty girls like you.”

  “No they don’t.” If he knew that Brianna offered to kiss me and I said no, he would kill me.

  When I finished eating, I walked around the mess hall taking pictures. I skipped Doug’s table. I took pictures of Becca, and Brianna’s other friends because I know she’ll want them in the layout.

  After dinner, everyone walked down to the other side of the lake for the campfire. It was already burning when we got there. The fire does keep you warm, at least a little bit, and it’s really pretty. Everyone sat on these benches made of logs that were in a circle around the fire.

  Ethan would only sit in the back row, because if he didn’t, he’d block the view of everyone behind him. I sat with him there, and I stood up every once in a while to take pictures. Then I could see everything.

  People from the wilderness retreat talked for a while about the history of this land, and the people who used to live here hundreds of years ago. Then we heard drums. Then these two guys came in and did a dance around the campfire. I liked it, but it lasted a little too long.

  Then they brought out a big box of sticks, and we all toasted marshmallows around the campfire. I like watching them turn brown, but I don’t actually like eating marshmallows, so I cooked mine and dropped it in the garbage when I was done.

  After marshmallows, we sat back down, and some of the kids started yelling for the ghost stories, which the handout said is part of the campfire. The guide from the walk got up and told us that a few parents called and requested that we skip the ghost stories.

  Kids started yelling, “Who? Who?” but she wouldn’t say who it was. I know it wasn’t my parents. Not that they love ghost stories or anything, but they would never call the school or the retreat to tell them what not to do.

  “So instead, you’re going to be the entertainment. I know that someone brought his guitar, and maybe he knows a song we can all sing.” Some people groaned. I was one of the groaners. I don’t really like sing-alongs.

  Then someone came running to the campfire area. I think it’s one of the dancers. He handed a piece of paper to the guide, who read it.

  “Is there someone here named Sean Rosen?”

  I can’t believe it. I’m in the middle of the wilderness, and this is still happening. Everyone went crazy, pointing and making noises. I said to Ethan, “At least I don’t have to sing along.”

  Chapter 41

  I got up and followed the dancer guy.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Did you?”

  I guess we’re going back to the other side of the lake.

  “Have you worked here long?”

  “Too long.”

  He had a good flashlight. I was glad, because this place is DARK. I had my flashlight, too, but it’s like a toy flashlight.

  “How often do you do that dance?”

  “Depends. Two to seven times a week.”

  “What does it depend on?”

  “What the group pays for.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Did you have one marshmallow or two?”

  “Um . . . one.”

  “For two, your school pays more.”

  “Actually, I only wanted one.”

  “Some schools have no marshmallows.”

  “Interesting.”

  I think the hike with Ethan today was good for me. I’m not scared being out here in the wilderness. I know. I’m walking with someone who knows where he’s going. But I actually think I could get back by myself with my toy flashlight.

  “How did you get this job?”

  “This job got me. It’s my family’s place.”

  “So the guide . . .”

  “My sister.”

  “And the guy who welcomed us?”

  “My father.”

  We’re just coming up to the mess hall. That car looks just like my mom’s. Wait! There’s my mom and dad. What happened? I ran over to them.

  ME: Thorny?

  DAD: No.

  ME: Mary Lou?

  MOM: No.

  ME: Baxter?

  MOM: Nobody died. Was Baxter sick?

  ME: No. What are you doing here?

  MOM: Sean . . . there’s a lot to talk about, and we don’t have to do it all at once, but . . .

  ME: You are not getting a divorce.

  MOM: No. We’re not.

  My dad looked over at the owner’s son, who was standing there watching us. Then he looked up at the owner, who was standing on the porch of the mess hall, also watching us, with someone who was probably his wife, or his sister.

  DAD: Seany, let’s just get in the car.

  ME: Are we leaving?

  My mom pointed to the backseat, and she and my dad got in the front. I opened the door and started to get in. What? There’s a man sitting in the backseat wearing a suit and tie.

  MOM: Sean, this is . . .

  ME: Hank Hollywood.

  Oh my God. It’s him.

  MOM: Mr. Hollywood said you two hadn’t met.

  ME: We hadn’t. He’s famous. I know what he looks like. (then whispering) Do you know who he is?

  MOM: Yes, Sean. We’ve been in the car with him for the past two hours.

  DAD: Here’s what’s happening, Seany. We’re driving to a restaurant near here. Mom and I are gonna eat. You and Mr. Hollywood are gonna sit at another table and talk.

  ME: Like we did that time with that producer.

  HANK: Let me guess. You were six.

  DAD: It was just a few months ago.

  ME: And he wasn’t a real producer.

  HANK: I’m glad I meet your standards.

  I can’t believe I’m in my mom’s car with Hank Hollywood. Wait!

  ME: Is this a dream?

  DAD: No, Seany. We’re all really here.

  ME: (to Hank Hollywood) Did you get our address from my website?

  MOM: Yes. He did. Did you know it was public?

  ME: I didn’t, but then Ethan told me. I made it private as soon as I found out. Sorry. I was trying to save money.

  No one said anything else for the rest of the ride, which fortunately, was only a few more minutes. We drove up to a place called Kountry Kitchen. There was a black limousine parked in the lot.

  ME: I thought you drove up together.

  DAD: We did. But we’re leaving separately.

  We went inside.

  DAD: You two sit there. Seany, we’ll talk to you later.

  Chapter 42

  Hank Hollywood pointed to a chair. I sat down, and he sat across from me. A waitress came right over.

  HANK: Coffee and apple pie.

  ME: That sounds good. I mean the apple pie. I’ll have milk.

  WAITRESS: You want the pie heated?

  HANK & ME: (at the same time) No.

  The waitress left.

  ME: You look exactly like your pictures.

  HANK: You sound exactly like your podcasts.

  ME: You actually came to Pine Tree Wilderness Retreat.

  HANK: This part I wasn’t expecting.

  ME: What do you mean?

  HANK: I went to your house. I thought it was one of your parents.

  ME: What was?

  HANK: The person having those ideas. I thought they were just using you to get us interested. “Here’s an idea from a 13-year-old.”

  ME: That would get you interested?

  HANK: Yeah. If it was good. We want 13-year-olds to see our movies . . . to see our TV shows. Maybe a 13-year-old knows what they like.

  ME: Maybe he does.

  HANK: (laughs) It took me about five seconds with your parents to figure out I was wrong. They didn’t know anything. Why di
dn’t you tell them?

  ME: I was going to. I almost did a bunch of times. I guess I was waiting until I was sure it was real.

  HANK: And you already had Dan Welch to help you.

  ME: Right.

  HANK: He’s quite a manager.

  ME: I know.

  HANK: Nice to meet you, Mr. Welch.

  ME: What do you mean?

  HANK: Come on.

  ME: When did you know?

  HANK: Not for a while. You’re good.

  ME: Thanks.

  HANK: You don’t need compliments from me. You know you’re good.

  ME: I don’t exactly know.

  HANK: That’s very true, Sean. You don’t know. You can’t know how good you are. Because so far, all you have are ideas.

  ME: Well . . . I’m actually writing a screenplay.

  HANK: But you haven’t actually written a screenplay. A whole screenplay. Big difference. That’s why you turned Stefanie down, right? You want to write it yourself.

  ME: Right.

  HANK: Then why are you wasting everyone’s time with this bidding war?

  ME: How do you know . . .

  HANK: I work in a very small town. Word gets around fast.

  The waitress brought us our pie. We both ate some.

  ME: I’m wasting everyone’s time?

  HANK: Yes. You are.

  It hurt my feelings to hear that.

  HANK: It happens to almost everyone in the business at some point. It happened to me. It’s hard to resist. It’s so seductive. “Everyone wants me. How much will they pay to get me?” But in your case, it doesn’t matter. You don’t want to just sell the idea. You want to write the screenplay. No one will pay you to do that. Because you’ve never done it. So getting them to bid is just an ego trip and a waste of everyone’s time, especially your own. Stop negotiating and start writing. Finish that screenplay. Then we can all see if it’s any good. If it is, we’ll all want to buy it. Then you can have your bidding war.

  He stopped and drank some coffee.

  HANK: Does “Dan Welch” handle everything for you?

  ME: Yeah.

  HANK: (he looked at me and laughed) I thought it was funny when we figured it out. Not everyone’s going to feel that way.

 

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