JOSH
OK, so the problem with me fucking up on set is that it wasn’t exactly my first rodeo.
And it wasn’t the first time Emily had been the one on the receiving end of my mischief.
I had, shall we say, form. Now I was old enough to know better, but the first time?
I was still a stupid kid. It went something like this:
We were close to the end of the third movie, Wonderwick Woods: Into the Shadow Realm.
The set was dark as the night, the dry ice was swirling to make it all extra atmospheric, the only illumination was a huge fake moon that broke through the branches of the fake forest. We were ready to shoot one of the final scenes, where we’re alone in Wonderwick Woods with God knows what creatures lying in wait to ensnare us, and we’re equipped only with swords.
They were these huge wooden things that had been given to Rowan and Linderley by one of the forest mages.
They were props, of course; there was no reason to give us real ones – both as actors and as actual children, the highest standards of health and safety are always followed on set, especially here in England.
Anyway, there we were under the light of the moon, about to pick our way across mossy boulders and knotty tree roots.
‘Right,’ I said, probably with a smirk.
Jonas, the assistant director, yelled, ‘Action,’ and we were on.
‘Which way?’ I delivered my first line, looking wildly around the forest set, trying to decide which direction we needed to escape to.
‘That way!’ Emily yelled, shrilly, pointing off into the distance. ‘I think I can see light over the trees, that must be east!’
‘Gods, I hope you’re right, Linderley!’ I said, looking back over my shoulder before tearing off in the direction she’d pointed, weighed down by the stupid prop sword.
‘Cut!’ Jonas yelled, and for an instant I worried I had messed my lines up again, but they just needed to fiddle with the lighting again.
This was only the first take, and knowing Wonderwick we’d probably have to do it another ten times before Martin was satisfied.
I was already sick of carrying that dumb sword around, so I took it out of its sheath and started swinging it around like a lightsaber. I mean, you would, wouldn’t you?
Emily rolled her eyes at me, like she had probably done about a thousand times already that day. ‘Can’t you just stand still for one minute?’
‘No can do, Squirt,’ I said, not looking at her, my gaze concentrated on the end of the fake sword.
She just made that huffing noise she so enjoys and before we knew it, the lighting guys had reset the overhead rig, all was well, and we were ready to go again.
I put my sword back in its sheath, poised to hear Jonas yell ‘action’ but instead, Edith the makeup artist dashed forward and started powdering Emily’s nose.
I guess she was looking a little shiny, or whatever.
Cue me making Emily’s huffing noise and taking out my sword again for one more little skirmish with an invisible Darth Vader.
Except this time, I got a little too into it and started gathering great momentum, spinning around while holding the sword in both hands.
And then my grip loosened and it was only in one hand.
And then I kind of lost complete control of the situation and it was in no hands at all.
Instead, it was flying through the air and much like in a cartoon, time seemed to slow down.
It was like I knew the sword was going to hit the overhead lighting rig.
It was my bad luck that it was the only place it was ever going to land.
It wasn’t going to fall to the floor and rest on a mossy boulder.
It wasn’t going to spin off and hit the studio floor.
It was only going up. The seconds between the sword leaving my hand and the sword hitting the overhead lighting rig felt like minutes, enough time for me to do something even if I couldn’t get the sword back into my hand.
Edith had just turned her back on Emily, her nose sufficiently powdered and now directly under the lighting rig.
I used the moment I still had left to reach forward and yank Emily towards me, roughly pulling her by her costume before the crash came.
The sword made noisy, chaotic contact with the rig before pulling the whole thing down under its weight and speed.
It came down in an instant, hurtling towards the set below and to the exact spot where Emily had just been standing.
When it hit the ground, glass shattered and sparks went flying across the set, chaos erupted, the whole production team going into panic mode.
Emily and I just stood, frozen, my hand in a vice-like grip around her wrist, only a couple of metres away from the mangled equipment and broken prop sword, shattered under the weight of the rig.
Staring at each other in disbelief, it was clear Emily still didn’t really understand what had happened, or that it was my fault.
For a moment, everything was quiet on set, and then it really wasn’t. The sound of everyone talking, moving, shouting at the same time hit us like a wave.
‘What the fuck were you playing at, Josh? What did you think was going to happen? Don’t you know better?’ Jonas almost screamed at me. Then Emily understood.
‘Why did you do that?’ she stammered in a whisper, her eyes shining with fear.
Why had I done it? Because I was bored, stupid, obnoxious, arrogant.
Because I didn’t take anything seriously.
Any of those work. But I couldn’t say that.
I couldn’t admit I was wrong. I knew my parents would hear about this.
But I never really had to take responsibility for anything on Wonderwick, and I wasn’t going to start then.
‘What are you talking about? I saved your life,’ I scoffed, going back into douchebag mode. ‘You’d be mincemeat if it wasn’t for me.’
‘What is wrong with you?’ Her voice shook with anger. ‘Everything is a joke to you, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s just that I’m a joke to you.’
Before I could respond, she was spirited away by her mom, who glared at me with a ferocity that could have turned me to stone.
Whatever Emily may think, I still feel terrible about it to this day. I mean, I nearly killed her for Christ’s sake, and the idea I might have put her in danger again, on this movie, makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit alive.