Generations 2.7 kindle (3 page)
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Authors: Lori Folkman
Chapter Two ……
T
he sets were complete. Props were in place. Costumes had been collected and fitted. Everything was a go. Filming was to start today. But something wasn’t quite right. Ben couldn’t put his thumb on it exactly.
They had just walked through the blocking for the thousandth time when Ben realized the problem. The current treatment had him walking through each of the decades in chronological order. But it didn’t make any sense for Ben to all of a sudden show up in the 1920’s. He had to start in the present and make his way backward through time. He didn’t know why he didn’t realize this sooner, back when he first saw the storyboard.
So Ben was in a huddle with his team of advisers: Paul (of course. Where else would he be?), the director, the choreographer, and the treatment kid (what was his name again?). None of them looked thrilled. Changes take time. And money. But Ben didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted the video to be perfect.
Paul said that they should film it as it looks on the paper, then possibly reverse the images during the edit. Tim, the director, informed Paul that this wouldn’t work in all the scenes: some had books or other products with labels that would read backwards if the images were flipped. “No one will notice. All those props are quite small,” Paul insisted.
Ben quickly spoke up. “No. We’re not cheating. I want it filmed in reverse.”
The treatment kid brought out his storyboard (which was actually rather impressive for a high school kid) and pointed to the last frame.
“That’s simple enough. All you’ll be doing is starting here and working your way back up the board.” The kid seemed to understand Ben’s vision, even though he didn’t seem happy about changing the order of the scenes. But he drew several black arrows above the scenes to indicate the new flow.
“Perfect,” Ben said. Then he turned his back on the storyboard and walked back through the set with the director and the choreographer. They re-blocked the entire song in reverse order. Luckily, the extras were still in place so the blocking was going rather quick. But obviously not quick enough. Ben noticed the caterers setting out the food near the back of the studio. Something smelled good. He glanced at his watch. It was six already. Ben hated to break for dinner when they were so close to getting the blocking done. But there were some things he just couldn’t control.
“Dinner break,” Paul said to Ben. Paul was Ben’s mega-manager/producer. And also his stepfather.
“I know,” Ben said. What’d Paul think? That Ben was the only one in the room without a olfactory system?
“You do realize that we have a problem with the schedule, right?”
“Yeah. We won’t have time to shoot tonight.” Ben didn’t want to get admonished by Paul, so Ben added, “But we can start filming early tomorrow. That would give us tonight to work out all the kinks. Make it perfect.”
“But remember that the prize kid can’t come until after school. You agreed to work on his schedule.”
“I think he’ll understand. And he’ll only miss a few hours of filming.”
Paul shoved his hands into his pockets. He glanced left to right, then back to Ben’s face. “Well … you’re the boss. You go tell him.” He gave Ben a patronizing smile, then he turned and walked away.
Why did Paul always say that, even though they both knew that wasn’t the case? Ben wasn’t the boss—yet. But in four short months he would be. Or should be. It was hard for Ben to imagine Paul taking the backseat once Ben turned eighteen.
Ben sent the word around that there would be no filming today. He finished up with the choreographer as the rest of the cast and crew made their way to dinner. He noticed that the treatment kid was still pouring over the storyboard. He looked contemplative, as if something was still wrong with the flow. Ben wondered what flaw the kid (it was Scott, wasn’t it?) was working on, as Ben thought that the new direction would be seamless. But then Ben forgot about the storyboard. There was something more interesting standing directly adjacent to Scott and his board. Or someone.
This cute blonde was standing there with Scott. Her hand was up to her mouth, like she was about to bite her nails. She looked like she was trying to help with the storyboard, but maybe she had long grown impatient. She probably couldn’t see the problem either. She looked across the studio and directly into Ben’s eyes. Her hand dropped from her mouth and she blinked twice.
Wow. She was really cute. She gave Ben a small smile and then looked back down at the storyboard. He saw her cheeks flush. But then her hair fell around her face.
She had great hair. Golden blonde and thick with spiral curls. It was the kind of hair that was noticed a mile off. Nothing irked Ben more than seeing great hair like that from a distance but then finding a face that was less than pleasing once he approached. But he’d seen her face. She was worth approaching. And he was going to do just that.
He cut off his conversation with the choreographer, telling her that they would finish after dinner. Then he crossed to the middle of the studio where that Scott kid was.
Grateful to have an excuse to talk to Scott, Ben said, “We’re running behind schedule. We’re going to need to start filming earlier tomorrow. We’ll do cast call at ten. So you’ll just miss a few hours of filming. Unless you decide to skip school after all.” Ben intentionally directed his conversation just to Scott, ignoring the other person present.
“Oh,” Scott said. His eyebrows furrowed, “Okay. But are you sure … about the changes? Don’t you think that …”
Scott pointed at the storyboard. Sheesh. What was he doing to it? He’d taken off a number of the frames and was rearranging them. Not necessary. The flow was still the same, just backwards.
“I mean, I kinda thought that it made sense to …”
He was rambling now. Ben looked up from the storyboard. That wasn’t what he was really interested in anyhow. The girl was staring at him, and he caught her. But that was typical. Girls stared at him a lot. She seemed embarrassed. She fidgeted and looked at Scott nervously.
Ben held out his hand, offering a handshake. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said. Her cheeks were flushing again, but at least her hand wasn’t sweaty. That was always a turn-off. He expected girls to be a little nervous in meeting him, but not to the extreme that they had no control over their pituitary gland.
“Hi, I’m Cat.”
As in meow? Was this some sort of pick-up line? Was he the mouse?
His confusion must have registered on his face, because she clarified, “It’s short for Katrina.”
Oh, right. “I’m Ben. It’s short for Benjamin.”
She gave him a big smile now. A nice smile. Ben realized he was still shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you Benjamin,” she said. She glanced sideways at Scott.
“Um, Kat is my sister,” the Scott kid said.
Ben dropped Katrina’s hand and looked at Scott. They looked nothing alike. Scott was tall and gangly. His clothes were generic, uninteresting. His sandy hair needed a trim. All in all, he was unimpressive. But this Katrina? Nice clothes, great skin, shiny hair. Very impressive. She seemed to have a certain … elegance. Refinement. And that came from breeding. So why was Scott so … average?
“Stepsister,” she added.
Oh. That made sense. “Well, I’m afraid you came on the wrong day,” Ben said.
Her eyebrows shot up. She looked a little panicked. Ben quickly expanded on his statement, “Because we’re not going to filming today. Not a lot of action for you to see.”
“Oh, yeah,” she was smiling again. “Well, that’s okay. I’m just glad to … to be here.” She did this little bounce thing with her legs. It reminded Ben of a curtsey. He smiled at her. Her personality matched her springy hair.
“You staying for dinner?” Ben realized that this might sound too forward. It’s not like he was going to eat with them. So he looked at Scott as well, including him in the conversation, and said, “I think they are serving Chicken Kiev tonight. Should be good.”
Katrina smiled and nodded politely, but Scott was semi-scowling.
“Did you want to, ah, see what I’m doing with the storyboard?” Scott asked.
“Ah, later Scott,” Ben said. The layout was done. That kid needed to stop obsessing.
Scott scrunched his eyebrows and held his mouth tight. “Um, my name is Jackson,” he said. “Jackson
Scott.
”
Oh. Ben had remembered the wrong name. “I bet you get that a lot though,” Ben justified. “Your name is backwards.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jackson said sheepishly.
The air felt awkward. Ben pivoted to leave.
“But what can you do about your given name?” Katrina added. She seemed to say it more to Jackson Scott than to Ben. And she gave Jackson this triumphant look.
Okay, whatever. Ben thought he knew what she was implying, but she wouldn’t dare, would she? She smiled at him once she realized that he’d heard her comment; it didn’t look like she was slinging insults.
Ben dismissed it. He headed for his dressing room, leaving them to mess with the storyboard.
……
B
en didn’t really know why, but he felt this gravitational pull toward Katrina and Jackson Scott. Ben decided not to eat by himself in his dressing room, and instead joined the rest of the cast at the back of the studio. He didn’t go as far as sitting with Katrina and Jackson at their table, but he sat nearby, his back to theirs. His assistant brought him his dinner and a few of the upper-level staff joined him at his table. But the more the conversation at his table revolved around politics and the environment, the more Ben found himself eavesdropping on the conversation behind him.
No one else sat by Katrina and Jackson and they didn’t seem to mind. They were completely absorbed in conversation with each other. They were laughing a lot. Ben felt a twinge of envy. He didn’t have a relationship like that with his stepbrothers. Not even close.
And Ben found that the more he eavesdropped, the more confused he was. Really, he had no idea what they were talking about. Yet, he was irrevocably intrigued.
The conversation went something like this:
Katrina: “How about Genghis Khan?”
Jackson: “No way. You heard how much trouble Hannah Montana got in for pulling on her eyes. Asia is out. Africa too. Anything Nazi is taboo. Maybe … just maybe Middle Eastern. There is still a lot of prejudice there. But it would be risky.”
Katrina: “Then your entire list is out. How about we go with mine? Like Frog Suck. Or
Goochland.”
Jackson: “You know you’re going to get some mayor or governor upset about that. Not as bad as an entire country, but still.”
Ben couldn’t make sense of it—at all. He leaned farther back in his chair. Maybe he wasn’t hearing things right. Now they were talking about food, he was sure of that. He was even more confused.
Katrina said, “Well then the entire Taco Bell menu is out. No Chalupa. No Crunchwrap Supreme. He’d get sued.”
Jackson was quiet for a time. Then he answered, “We better go with dogs then. I don’t think the American Kennel Club would sue him. Especially if we went with a dog like a pug. No one like those dogs.”
“Yeah, but saying ‘pug’ doesn’t sound real cool.”
“Then I’m stumped,” Jackson said.
“Me too,” Ben said as he turned around. It wasn’t necessarily his intention to join the conversation, but he was past the point of curiosity. He needed to know what they were talking about. And he needed to know if their conversation was the norm for high school kids; he didn’t like feeling obscure and disconnected.
Both Jackson and Katrina looked a little startled that Ben had joined the conversation. Would a typical person apologize for eavesdropping? But instead of saying that he was sorry, he said, “I couldn’t help overhearing,” even though they weren’t necessarily speaking very loud, “but I have no idea what you are talking about. No idea at all. I’m completely lost.”
“Oh,” Katrina said. She looked embarrassed. “We were, uh … talking about …”
“Swearwords,” Jackson finished.
“Swearwords?” Ben asked. That made no sense, whatsoever.
“Or alternate swearwords,” Katrina said. “It was an English assignment.”
Oh. So it was a high school thing. No wonder Ben wasn’t getting it.
“Our English teacher was railing on the way
people speak, sighting the unoriginality of
swearwords. Everyone says them, without even thinking about what they are saying,” Jackson said.
“So we were asked to come up with new swearwords. Ones that still work in context, but aren’t as offensive,” Katrina said.
Jackson picked it up again, “Swearwords are basically divided into three categories. And whichever swearword a person uses most represents the area that person struggles with.”
“Three categories?” Ben asked. It had to be way more than that.
“Group number one,” Katrina said, “Would be all things relating to Deity.”
“There’s a lot in that group,” Jackson said. “Including ones relating to damnation and such.”
“Group number two would be all things related to … poo, essentially.” Katrina blinked and continued, “Any bodily function.”
Ben laughed. He could think of quite a few that fit in that category as well. “And the third?” he asked.
Jackson cleared his throat. Katrina played with her earring. Her cheeks were flushed again. “Procreation.” Jackson finally said. “Anything in regards to that.”
Ben laughed again. “Sex. Is that word banned as well?”
“Should be,” Jackson said. “Its liberal usage represents the moral degradation of society. But that wasn’t really on the assignment.”
Yeah. Ben didn’t really know what to say to that. Had he just been censored for using a word that was forbidden half a century ago? Were these two way old-fashioned? Maybe they were part Amish.
“When you divide swearwords into these categories, it gives you a psychologist’s insight into others lives. A person who drops the ‘F’ bomb most likely isn’t finding any luck in that area,” Jackson said.
Ben could think of a few of his friends that enforced this point. It made him chuckle.
“And anyone overusing the ‘S’ word would likely be eating too much fiber,” Katrina said.
Ben laughed out loud at this point. He knew he’d never think of a person in the same light after they said the “S” word. He’d be wondering how often they had to run to the bathroom.
Katrina smiled at him, her face vibrant and excited. “So we each came up with a list of alternate words. Most of us had themes. Like mine were all names from American towns. Frog Suck, Goochland, and Hoople.”
“Those are real towns?”
“Yep. Wyoming, Virginia and North Dakota, respectively.”
“And those fit into the three categories?”
“Use your imagination,” she urged.
Jackson joined the conversation. “Mine was based on famous people. Genghis Khan, Vlad the Impaler, and Hugh Hefner.”
“I have to imagine what categories those fit into as well?”
“No. I will tell you. Because mine make sense,” Jackson said. He jabbed his knee into Katrina’s leg. He was making fun of her. This was more like the typical sibling relationship. “Genghis Khan thought he was omnipotent. He sought for ultimate control and power. So obviously he had a problem with Deity. Vlad,” Jackson cleared his throat, “this one is nasty, I know, but Vlad impaled somewhere around 100,000 people, and the point of entrance was ….” Jackson cleared his throat again. “So obviously this man had bowel troubles. Of the worst imaginable kind.
“And finally: Hef. No explanation needed. He’s a nymphomaniac.”
Ben saw the correlation between Jackson’s swearwords and the specified categories. Katrina’s—he still didn’t get it. He probably shouldn’t have said that though. Katrina went on the defensive, telling him that she got extra credit in Geography for her report on towns that could be cusswords. And she listed a few more: Idiotville, Yaak, and Tupelo. While they were funny names for towns, they didn’t necessarily rank as great swearwords.
Jackson didn’t give Katrina any praise for getting extra credit. “I’m sure I could have gotten extra credit in History
had I asked for it
. But I didn’t need it. I already had an A plus. And just because you got extra credit in a different subject doesn’t make your report any more noteworthy. My report scored higher than yours, period.”
Ben watched Katrina closely. She seemed like she dismissed Jackson’s criticism as quickly as it left his mouth. Ben thought of the childish saying “I am rubber you are glue …” and he imagined that Katrina had used that phrase plenty against Jackson. And actually meant it. Good. She wasn’t a hypersensitive female. Chalk up another desirable attribute.
“Anyways,” Katrina said with animation, “we were discussing how new words make it into the English language.”
“Usually, it takes someone of prominence and influence—such as yourself—to make a word popular,” Jackson continued. “Once a word is introduced and a few others begin to use it, it catches on like wildfire and becomes a common expression. What we were doing earlier—when you so rudely eavesdropped—was,” Jackson stopped speaking long enough to smile. Ben was caught off-guard by the sarcasm, but then he smiled too. Jackson went on, “discussing which word would be a good one for you to use …”
“Hypothetically speaking,” Katrina interjected. She looked a little embarrassed. “You know, we were just toying around.”
“He knows that, Kat. It’s not like he’s worried that he’s going to have to start saying ‘frog suck.’ We were just toying with the idea that if you wanted to Webster a word, you could.”
“That’s kind of cool,” Ben said. Actually, it really was. He’d never thought about it before. He could be responsible for the next cool slang word.
“But, as we were discussing it, we realized that none of our words would work,” Katrina said. “Ethnic groups would get offended and such.”
“So we were stealing words from our classmates. One guy did his entire paper on the Taco Bell menu. One girl used dog breeds. But out of all the words that our class came up with, we can’t really find one that would work—without causing a controversy.”
“We would have to come up with something new,” Katrina said, “ya know: if it’s something you are serious about doing.”
Ben looked around the studio. Most people were still at their tables, eating. He didn’t have anything better to do, so he may as well play along. At least for entertainment’s sake. “Yeah. I’m game.”
Jackson pretended to put on a hat, fastening some kind of imaginary band underneath his chin. “Okay, thinking caps on.” He looked at Katrina encouragingly.
She rolled her eyes and said, “My brain is already big enough. I don’t need a thinking cap.”
These guys were a little weird. But in a good way.
They spouted out random words, everything from diseases to brands of clothing. Nothing sounded right.
“What if it’s not a swearword?” Katrina eventually suggested. “What if it’s something like ‘sick.’ If we are using a word in a good way, we don’t have to worry about offending people … and getting sued.”
Maybe that was all they needed: a shift in directions. They started thinking of words that would mean cool or awesome. But it seemed over-baked.
“How about if we went more specific,” Ben suggested. “Like a word that would describe a hot chick.” He didn’t know why he said that one. It’s not really what he was thinking. Then again, he was sitting here talking to Katrina. He would go as far as to say that she was hot. And she was a chick. So there ya go.
Jackson immediately agreed that they should find a new word to describe hot chicks. Katrina rolled her eyes. “Oh. Come. On.” She was forceful in her opinion. “Like there’s not enough of those words already. Fox. Babe. Hottie. Bombshell. Fine. Should I keep going?”
“Yeah, but all those are old. Dated. Passé. Should I keep going?” Jackson said.
“And you are boring. Dull. Uninteresting. And I will keep going. Lame. Stup …”
Ben saw Jackson jab Katrina with his knees again. This time it wasn’t as playful. Ben felt like he was watching a tennis match with all the back and forth comments between Katrina and Jackson. And the match was good: Ben couldn’t tell who was winning.
So Ben and Jackson continued brainstorming. Katrina grew mostly silent. Ben could tell she wasn’t happy with this topic. Every once in a while she would interject a word, like mule or lederhosen. Always something random and completely off-subject, as if she wanted to be the farthest thing away from helpful. Which was probably her intent. She had already said that she would be no part of making another derisive name for women.
“It has to be something that connotes beauty, elegance … softness,” Jackson said. Finding the perfect word proved to be harder than Ben had imagined. After Jackson said this, they both sat in quiet contemplation.
