Barry #2
his hairy chest and perfect pecs.
He smiles at me just as Mitch yells, “Action!”
I don’t even feel myself walking. In fact, I am not of this earth any longer. I am floating somewhere over Joshua Tree, watching
this happen, out of body.
I see my wounded dog self push through the swinging doors. I take a seat at the bar. Loretta approaches, cleaning a glass,
totally exhausted, not looking up at me.
“Missouri Mule,” I say in an Ozarks lilt.
She finally looks. Tears pool in her emoji eyes.
“I tried to help you, sis,” I say, my face contorted with emotion. “They threatened to kill me, too, so I had to run and hide.
I ended up in the hills of West Virginia where no one would ever find me. I had no one.” I hesitate. “Until Mary.” I clamp
my eyes shut. My chin trembles at the mention of her name. “I married the love of my life, and we had a family—a boy . . .”
I stop and pull my cell from my jeans pocket. I show her pictures of my son. “Levi Jr. looked just like his daddy, and little
Lori . . .” I show Loretta a photo of my daughter with flame-red hair “. . . well, she looked just like you. She was named for you.”
I stare at the picture of my little girl, chin now quivering.
“The others found my family and killed them. I came home and discovered them all in bed, as if they were waiting for me to tuck them in and kiss them good-night.” A lone tear weaves its way through my stubble.
“I’m broken, sis. I have no one. I had nowhere to go.
” I look up at her. “I need a family.” I reach out and take her hand in mine.
“I need you.” I set my jaw. “I need revenge.”
I can see the memory of me protecting her from the bear flashing in her eyes. Loretta weeps. She walks around the bar and
whispers the line people have been waiting for her to say. This time, however, it is spoken softly, tinged with love and regret.
“We is blood relatives,” she whispers into my ear, holding on to me tightly.
The camera pans around to my face.
Slowly, so very slowly, a smile crosses my face.
“And cut!” Mitch yells.
The crew breaks into thunderous applause.
“Fabulous, Barry! I mean, just fucking fabulous! First take, man, and you nailed it!” he yells. “I see big things coming your
way.” He walks over and claps me on the back. “The studio can get behind your backstory, too, when we start the press tour.
The guy who finally, finally got the break he deserved after all these years.”
Mitch turns to the crew.
“Back in five!” he yells. “I want to get some takes of Billy reacting to the scene at the bar.”
“Helluva job,” Ida Red says, studying me curiously. “Damn shame you gotta die.”
I laugh. She doesn’t like anyone getting more attention than her.
“Already dead,” I say to her with a wink. “So it doesn’t hurt as much.”
She stares at me as I head out of the bar.
Kyle walks over to me.
“I knew I was right about you,” he says. Kyle leans into my ear and whispers, “You are so hot right now.”
I laugh as if he’s told me the funniest joke in the world and head to my trailer.
“I was watching,” Ainsley says when I enter. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. It was a rush.”
I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and chug it, finally realizing how dry my mouth is, not just from the desert
dust but from my nerves.
I take a seat in the chair, and Ainsley touches up my makeup for my next scene.
The trailer door pops open, and Kyle sticks his head in.
“Mr. Moses,” Ainsley exclaims nervously.
“Can you excuse us for a moment?” he asks.
“Of course,” she says as she exits.
As soon as she is gone, Kyle locks the door, grabs me and kisses me with too much force.
“I made you,” he says, grabbing my face, hard. “I made you! Now I want my scene with you.” His fingers are pressed into my
neck. “You got me so worked up out there. I deserve a reward, cowboy.”
Kyle forces me onto the couch.
“I have another scene,” I say. “Don’t mess up my makeup or clothes.”
I am strong, but he is younger, stronger. His hand wraps around my throat. My windpipe constricts. I gasp. We fall to the
floor.
“You were so hot today,” he whispers. A thread of saliva trickles from the corner of his mouth. “But don’t overshadow me or
Loretta. I can still fire you. Billy Bob is waiting.”
I look up at him. Kyle is no longer present. His face is flushed, his eyes narrowed, his dimples making him look like a sweet
man who has lost his mind.
I search his eyes as I gasp for air.
Does he even remember the sweet, innocent kid he was when he first moved to Hollywood?
“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, his body, excited, pressed against mine.
This, I realize, is my payback. It is the price I must pay for success. The toll I now owe for taking advantage of so many other men without a single concern for their well-being is finally being exacted.
My arm flails, hitting the small table by the couch.
Yes, Kyle has turned the tables on me from so long ago.
I know I should hit, fight, scream, but I deserve this.
I know when this is over that I should report him to the police, tell my agent and the studio, go to the tabloids with this
story, but I won’t.
I deserve this.
All of this.
No one would believe me anyway. We think the world changes, but it never really does. The rich and powerful always get their
way.
As Kyle chokes me with one hand. His other begins to unzip my pants.
My arm not pinned under my body continues to flail. My fingers touch the script I left on the table. Suddenly, Ron’s advice
rings in my ears:
You’re a writer, Barry. Why don’t you write your own rules for once? Write your own story, Barry.
My fingers feel the empty tray Zed left on top of the table.
“I didn’t mean to break your heart, Kyle,” I squeak.
Kyle’s eyes soften for just an instant. His grip eases. I gasp for air.
“Kiss me,” he says.
Kyle puts his mouth on mine. He begins to force my jeans off.
I lift the tray and hit him in the head with it.
He falls off of me, screaming, “I’m going to murder you, motherfucker! Your career is over! You are so fucking fired!”
Kyle stands up and kicks me.
I may be on the ground, but I am not defenseless. I refuse to be tossed away and forgotten on the cutting room floor again.
“Kick me again,” I say. “And again. You can’t hurt me.
And you can’t fire me. The studio agreed to a no-termination clause in my contract because I agreed to take less money and made zero demands.
And I already told my agent about what happened between us.
He’s the only person I know who’s a bigger dick than you are. ”
Kyle glares at me.
“You’re lying!” he says.
I glare back at him.
“Am I?”
I am. I would never tell my agent what happened with Kyle. I’ve come too far.
But I’ve finally realized I’m a much better actor than Kyle Moses will ever be, and I deserve this role. And the next one,
and the next one.
“Go on! Use that rage in the movie,” I taunt. “I feel sorry for your husband. I made the right decision breaking up with you.”
Kyle storms toward the door.
“And if you touch me again, I will have my friends kill you,” I say to him. Kyle scoffs. “Mark my words. They will do it.
They won’t just help me bury your body, they’ll take pleasure in dismembering it. That’s the beauty of having friends. And
there’s a reason you don’t have any.”
He slams the door.
Ainsley comes back in as I’m picking myself up off the floor.
She rushes over to me. “Oh, my God!”
She helps me onto the couch. She looks at me, and then gently lifts my chin.
“Your neck,” she says, her eyes wide. “I need to call someone.”
“No!” I say. “Please, don’t.”
Ainsley walks to the kitchen and returns with ice wrapped in a towel. She holds it to my neck.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice is shaky.
“I will be,” I say. “The things you’ll do to make it in show business.”