Dex fiddled a bit with a bounceboard on the ground, propping it up against a rock (grave?) and gave the camera the final once–over.
“Rolling,” he said. He pointed at me. “Go.”
I took a deep breath, readied myself, and went into a lengthy intro about the island’s history and a detailed, dramatic description of what it would be like to have been one of the lepers. I don’t know where it was all coming from. I had been going over in my head earlier some key points to focus on and what order to do them in, but the description about the Chinese lepers just came out of nowhere.
By the time I was done, I was shaking at the knees from the overload of nerves (and the cold) and I was out of breath from trying to sound clear, concise and confident.
“Cut,” Dex said slowly and a bit unsurely. He looked up from the camera, not looking impressed like I had thought he would. He looked utterly confused.
“What the hell was that? Better yet, who the hell was that?”
I felt a bit defensive. I thought I did an awesome job and I rarely thought that about myself.
“I was trying to be professional.”
“Yeah, well, you were, kiddo. You were. But that’s not why people love you. The world expects a pose from everyone these days. You have to loosen the fuck up. That wasn’t you.”
“Yes, Dex, it was me. That was me being professional and apparently people want that.”
“No, they don’t. They want you being you. They want your personality.”
“I’m a goof. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing half the time.”
He stepped out from behind the camera and took a step closer to me. “I know you don’t. That’s what makes you…charming. That’s why you’re doing this with me.”
I sighed, all confidence rolling out of me. Even when I try to change, I fail.
“See,” he said, walking forward until he was right in front of me. He pushed a piece of hair back behind my ear. I flinched slightly at his touch. I couldn’t help it. My nerves were jumping all over the place. “This is exactly why I don’t want you to give a shit about those comments. I know what they say. But that’s the opinion of a few people, and most likely, just one person. They’re just a jackfuck who doesn’t know what they are talking about. Everyone else, Jimmy included, they want you. Just as you, as Perry Palomino. And that’s why we’re going to have to do that all over again.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I cried out. I was so ready to throw in the towel.
He cocked his head at me. “Just once. The information, it’s all great. I liked what you did with the lepers and everything. That’s perfect. But, come on, baby.”
Baby? He reached for my shoulders and shook them around, my boobs jostling up and down. He tried, with little success, not to notice.
“Relax. Get jiggy with it. Have fun. I know you’re a fun person. Let’s let everyone see that.”
Though I was appreciating how close he was to me and the fact that he was still holding my shoulders with his strong grip, I had to say, “This is still a ghost story, right? It’s not Girls Gone Wild.”
“Hey, you’re the one who put on that shirt.” He leered and walked back to the camera. “It’s just you and me here. Tell me about the island. I was barely listening the first time anyway. Things were, uh, distracting me. Tell me what you know. And go.”
And so I pretended that Dex hadn’t heard anything I said, and described everything as if it was for an audience of one. He asked the question, I responded, simple as that.
When I was done, Dex broke into that genuine, wide smile that so rarely stretched across his face.
“See how much better that was! Did you feel how much better that was?”
Not really, though I was more relaxed. I messed up a few times regardless of whether I was just supposed to be talking to Dex.
He could see I wasn’t convinced. “It was much better. And just one take. Now that that part is done, we don’t have to worry about it, and it’s right on time. Look at that fucking sunset.”
I turned around and saw the golden sun heading down for the horizon where a far–off freighter was making a nautical silhouette. My arms and chest glowed golden. And suddenly I was freezing, almost unbearably cold. The adrenaline of being on camera was gone and my goose bumps were out in full force.
I shivered and made a beeline for the tent. “OK, it’s time for a sweater,” I said through chattering teeth.
“Aww, don’t be so modest now,” I heard Dex call out from behind me.
I put on a Fu Manchu sweatshirt and my yellow coat on top and helped Dex put away the camera equipment before the darkness came. Then we got our lanterns and flashlights out and started setting out the small cooking stove on the picnic table adjacent to the tent. I heated up two cans of ravioli for us (yeah, totally gourmet) while Dex fixed another tarp across the table. It didn’t look like it was going to rain, but if it did, it would be nice to have a dry place to sit.
By the time the tarp was up and we were all organized for the night, it was pitch dark. We sat across each other at the table and spooned ourselves our dinner into our paper bowls. The lantern sat at the end of the table, providing just enough light to see by (and dare I say, the glow was pretty romantic). The Super 8 camera and the night camcorder were beside Dex on his bench, while the books and a heavy–duty flashlight were on mine. As far as I knew, we didn’t have any plans to go exploring tonight which suited me just fine.
But you never knew what might come exploring our way.
“There are no bears on the island, right?” I asked. I knew there probably weren’t – it was way too small for them – and I hadn’t read about it, but I figured it would be good to know since we had food out and all. Or at least the smell of food. I finished all of my ravioli in seconds flat.
Dex shook his head while he placed our empty bowls in the garbage bag hanging off the table. “No, but I wouldn’t count out those raccoons. I’ll put the garbage and the food away from the tent in case those little turds pay us a visit in the night.”