The Accidental Siren

5.6 Fairytale Part One: The Girl

19 EXT. THE CASTLE OF THE EVIL PRINCE - DAY  19

THE EVIL PRINCE falls off the roof to his bloody demise!

The ladies of The Demi Moore Cigar Club joined the filmmakers at the top of the dune. We visored our eyes to better see Freddy the mannequin (in the garb of the evil prince) dangling from Mara's hands against the castle wall. Thirty feet below, blankets, pillows and cushions provided a soft target for the plastic daredevil.

Livy stood as close to Ryan as their friendship allowed. Apparently, she was oblivious to the fact that he was wearing blush, eyeliner, and a Michael Jordan basketball jersey. Poor Livy... she didn't know the futility of her flirtation. “Sorry,” she said, tracing circles in the sand with her hightop. “I know this movie is totally lame.”

“Are you kiddin'?” he said. “I get to watch myself fall from the roof of a freakin' castle! I'm wiggin' out!”

Mom was behind me, chatting up Mrs. Bullard, doing her best to explain the filmmaking process. “This is one of the last scenes in the movie,” she said, “but they still need to shoot a war scene that actually comes earlier in the story. James can put the scenes together in the right order during the editing process. It's all very technical.”

“Why aren't you all costumed up, Beth?” asked the woman. “Shouldn't you be queen of this castle?”

My back was turned, but I could feel the flush in my mother's cheeks. “Ha!” she said. “You'll never catch Bethany Parker in front of a movie camera. I'm strictly a behind-the-scenes kinda mom.”

I scanned the roof and saw Mrs. Greenfield with her hands on her hips. She asked permission to assist Mara with the dummy; I said it was fine as long as she stayed clear of the shot.

“Testing, testing?” Mara's voice crackled over the My First Sony walkie-talkie attached to my ear. “Are you there, Mr. Director?”

I bent the mouthpiece to my lips. “Hear ya loud n' clear, Alpha Girl. How are we lookin'?”

“Freddy's in place and ready to drop.” The mannequin wiggled against the wall.

“Sweet. Tell Freddy that we've only got one shot at this, so make it good.”

“Will do, Mr. Director. Tell Livy and Ryan I say 'hello down there!'”

I winced.“Will do, Alpha Girl. Over and out.” I checked the frame one last time, then raised my arms. “Quiet on the set!” I yelled. The ladies simmered. Ryan stepped to my side.

The earpiece crackled. “Dang, that was loud!”

“Sorry, Alpha Girl. Forgot about the headset.”

Mom covered her mouth. Livy inched closer to Ryan as he bubbled with goofy excitement. On the roof, Mrs. Greenfield ducked out of view.

I pushed record and held my breath. “Annnnd, action!”

The dummy fell with disturbing grace, then bumped the brick wall and reeled head first toward the ground. The costume fluttered just enough to make him look real; I imagined Ryan in his place.

Freddy hit the pillows with a pop and crunch. The ladies gasped. Ryan raised his fists in the air and whooped, “That's what I'm talkin' about!”

I kept the camera wide on the castle wall until Mara emerged with exquisite timing from the brick horizon, a tiny silhouette with a billowing blouse, windswept hair, and sword at her side. Slowly, I rotated the zoom, pushing into The Girl as she stood above the rest of us like a true heroine, comfortable in her place at the top of the world.

I yelled cut. The ladies cheered.

Mara dropped her sword, waved, then grabbed the walkie-talkie. “How'd it look, Mr. Director?”

“Awesome,” I said. “Nice work, Alpha--”

Mara jerked the headset off before I could finish and Mrs. Greenfield appeared at her side. There was a burst of jumbled laughter as Mara fumbled with the device, then found the power switch and turned it off. My earpiece clicked silent and I watched The Girl share the moment with my mother's friend.

“Killer shot, bro!” Ryan blurted. “Mara looked tight! Am I right? We're gonna make so many movies together, little dude.”

I didn't respond. My jaw tensed. My molars rubbed together in grinding figure eights.

I succumbed to a new primal urge that afternoon... but my jealousy was attuned to the wrong threat.

In the coming weeks, I would find myself on the outskirts of several serious conversations. Mom and Dad would invite Mara to the living room for private chats. Girly whispers of Ryan Ryan Ryan would be “none of my beeswax.” I would begin to notice Mara among my mother's friends, lemonade in hand, laughing with a wry smile and complimenting Mrs. So-And-So on a successful perm or Ms. What's-Her-Name on new earrings. I would notice an increase in face-time with Mrs. Greenfield; special shopping trips with Mara and Mom, castle barbecues with her husband and twenty-something daughter Samantha during trips home from Michigan State, more offers to assist on the fairytale. I would ask Mom about the renewed friendship and she would tell me, “The Greenfields have an empty nest and more time on their hands. Hasn't it been nice connecting with old friends?” These secrets and odd conversations would come to taint the castle's usual homeyness with a can't-put-my-finger-on-it sense of dread. My attention, however, would be consumed with jealous urges and the multitude of boys who promised to take her away.

I didn't know it as I swept up the dummy's remains, but it wasn't Danny, Whitney, or Ryan Brosh that would rip Mara out of my life... it was Mrs. Greenfield.

END OF CHAPTER FIVE