Chapter 44 From everything I’ve heard, smoking sounds like a great idea.
From everything I’ve heard, smoking sounds like a great idea.
Sean
“CUT! SEAN, PRACTICE those lines again. Your accent’s almost there. We’ll try again in twenty.” Miles turns to the AD. “How’s the coffee situation?”
I rub my forehead and squint at my Spanish language coach, who is already making a beeline toward me, script in hand. I grab the papers and wave him off. “I got this.”
We’re in the green screen studio, where, supposedly, the crew of the Noche de Fuego is searching for a lost passenger with help from Orbit and me.
Kai props my little furry blue crewmate on a fake boulder and heads out for a break.
I wander over to Jason, who is checking his phone.
He’s bouncing like a bowl of eggplant-colored Jell-O.
“What’s up, Hard-On?”
“Emmy called. Maybe it’s time!”
He rings her back on speaker. When she picks up, she sounds upset—all snotty and sniffly, like she’s been crying.
“Honey? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“No! Everything is terrible!”
Jason and I exchange worried looks. “What happened?”
She blows her nose right into the phone. “It’s not me. It’s Josie!”
My pulse jumps, and I can’t help butting in. “What about Josie?”
“We had a big fight before she left. I pleaded with her not to go, but she was completely unreasonable, talking about this puppet and how it was going to ruin our lives. I figured, let her go home to Florida for a little while, cool off, come back to her senses. But this morning, I woke up to her video!”
“What video?” Jason and I ask at the same time.
“It’s terrible!” Emmy wails. “It’s awful.”
I wrangle my emotions. I don’t want to lose my cool here in front of everyone, but Emmy is terrifying me.
“Emmy, send us the video,” I say in my Captain Footwork voice. I can feel my face doing twitchy things. “Right now.”
When it comes through, Jason holds up the phone so we can both see it. Josie’s face is in the frame. It’s dark, and she’s outdoors. It must have been filmed last night.
JOSIE: Hey, Emmy. I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay, but I’m not in Florida. I’m not going to Florida.
There’s the sound of crunching leaves. She’s walking as she’s recording. In the background I see… tombstones?
JOSIE: I’ve found a place to stay for now, and there’s a little cemetery here, and since it’s almost Day of the Dead, I thought I’d come out here and make a little altar for my dad.
The camera shifts as she sits down. I didn’t know her dad had passed away.
What other important pieces of her life don’t I know?
There’s a canvas drawstring bag beside her from which she begins to pull things.
A framed photo. Tea light candles. A couple of bottles of AmberBock beer.
A box of cookies. She holds up the photo to the camera so we can see it.
It’s a faded snapshot of a man with a crew cut and a slight overbite holding a chubby baby in a blue dress.
JOSIE: This is my dad and me.
She pans across the other items.
JOSIE: These were all the things he liked.
She sets everything up under a tree, balancing the phone against the trunk.
An owl hoots in the background. Something about it sends ice through my veins.
She shouldn’t be all alone, at night, in a strange place.
What if it’s dangerous? She uses a pocket knife to pop the top from one of the beer bottles and clinks it against the other.
JOSIE: To you, Dad.
She takes a swig. Her eyes are glassy as she focuses back on the camera.
JOSIE: The reason I’m telling you these details about my dad is because it’s what friends do. They tell each other about their lives and about what’s important to them and about their fears and their failures and their hopes and their dreams, and I haven’t done any of that with you.
A match sizzles, and she lights the tea lights one by one, cursing once as she burns her fingers.
She proceeds to tell Emmy what I already know, about her mom meeting and marrying Juan Ernesto, about the TV studio and her role in The Bilingual Club.
About Savannah Bateman. About Lupe and Chuy the Puppet.
Her face squints. I think she’s trying not to cry. An ache swells in my throat.
JOSIE: After my dad died, I lived alone for six years.
I felt miserable, and lonely, and basically invisible…
And then I met you, Emmy. And Peyton. And my life took a huge turn.
You and Peyton were the best thing to happen to me in a long time.
You’ve been such a good friend to me, and I’ve been a terrible one to you.
Oh no! The candles are going out. It’s this wind.
She pauses to relight and adjust them while Jason and I wait in rapt silence. I can see the flames of the candles burning in the dark pools of her eyes.
JOSIE: If it makes you feel any better, I lied to Miguel, too.
So, there you go—I’m an equal opportunity asshole.
But it would truly devastate me if you thought for a moment that I didn’t consider you my truest, closest friend.
And I want you to know that I will miss you tremendously.
And Peyton, too. And Jason and Mattie. As for that sweet new baby that you’re gonna give birth to and then dress in sauce-colored clothing…
tell her her Tía Josie loves her. And I’m sorry I never got to meet her.
Her hand reaches forward, and the video cuts out.
“I’m worried about her,” Emmy admits, blowing her nose again. “She can be dark sometimes, but I’ve never seen her like this.”
I dig my own phone out of my pocket. Josie’s being way too hard on herself, and it’s got to stop. I don’t care that she told me to bugger off. Vera said I shouldn’t hide my feelings. I’m calling her. Right now.
My call goes immediately to voicemail. I try again. She has to pick up eventually, right?
“Emmy’s been trying for an hour,” Jason tells me.
Right. Of course. I dial Josie a third time. Still, she doesn’t pick up. Dammit, Josie. But I’ll keep calling. I have to. This isn’t stalking. This is friendship, maybe more, I don’t know. All I know is that, like Emmy, I’m worried about her. And seeing her hurting hurts me, too.
I should be studying my lines, but my feelings won’t shut up.
As we shoot the next take, the little buggers are busy concocting a plan, and it’s a doozy.
It will make me miss work, putting me in breach of my contract.
It’ll also violate the LAPD’s mandate for me to stay in the county for the remainder of the hat investigation.
But my fretting may have kept me from overthinking my lines because my accent doesn’t suck and the AD calls a wrap.
I glance at Orbit, perched next to me on a fake rock. The puppet itself seems to be saying, Don’t do it, Captain. You’ll regret it.
I stare into its huge, shiny eyes. It’s not really that bad of an idea, is it?
You’ll look as crazy as Seamus, the Orbit in my head says. Maybe crazier.
What if I said I don’t care about that?
You care, Orbit says.
He’s right. I do care.
But I care about Josie more.
I shuffle into my street clothes and search out Miguel. When I find him, I throw an arm around his shoulders and steer him toward the back exit. “?Amigo! Fumar, por favor.” I’m sure my grammar’s wrong, but it’s good to practice.
He digs the pack out of his pocket. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t, but I’m thinking of starting.” I glance around, making sure no one is watching us as I shove the door open. “From everything I’ve heard, smoking sounds like a great idea.”