Lauren Takes Leave by Gerstenblatt, Julie (ebooks children's books free txt) 📕

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darknessinside the cavernous limo. I can make out three figures. I assume that thesmaller one is Tim and the other two—big guys sitting around the side of aU-shaped seat—are his bodyguards.

I sink into the black leather and enjoy the air-conditioning.“Well?” I say, deciding to play it really cool as my heart beats out of mychest. “You wanted something?”

Tim turns on a small light overhead. His dimples crease ina sort of sad smile. He looks tired and worried at the same time, as if he’sbeen left without a tour bus in Lithuania and can’t see a way out of it, likehe did in 1999, in a riveting performance of my-wife-played-by-Katie-Holmes-is-dyingsort of a way.

I almost feel bad for him.

“Look, Lauren,” Tim begins. “You are perhaps the sanestone of the bunch—lying to your husband and dabbling with infidelitynotwithstanding—and so I thought it would be best to choose you as the one tohear me out.”

I consider this, mentally scrolling through my coconspirators,and nod in agreement. I don’t trust myself to actually say anything, so I bitemy tongue and wait.

Tim nods back. “Good. So, here it is.” He takes a deepbreath and asks the bodyguards to give us some privacy. Once they have left thevehicle, I feel more at ease. Tim senses this and begins. “I’m down here toshoot a movie in the Everglades.”

I shrug. “Okay, I believe that. Kat was right, then.”

“That’s not the interesting part.” He shakes his headruefully. “This movie I’m doing. It’s about this ordinary guy who finds himselfin extraordinary circumstances. Without boring you with too much plot, sufficeit to say that he ends up being falsely accused of killing his own son, and nowhe’s on the run from authorities while trying to prove his own innocence.”

“Like Presumed Innocent meets The Green Milemeets A Few Good Men.”

He nods. “Only totally different. Because it’s set in theEverglades.”

“Cool,” I say, thinking the opposite.

Tim grants me signature smile number three, the one with ahint of irony.

“Fine, you got me, I think it’s kind of a dumb premise.But I’m sure you’ll be great in it. Continue.”

“Anyway, the dude is forced to literally live in the wild,hiding out in the jungle-like terrain of Southern Florida’s preserved wetlands.He spears fish and eats mangrove crabs and oysters to survive.”

“Now, that is cool,” I add. “Very Cast Away-ish.”

“Yeah. Except not, because it’s set in the Everglades.” Hesighs, seemingly annoyed. I know the clock is ticking here on getting to theplane, so I hold my thoughts and let him continue uninterrupted. “Anyway,there’s this one scene where the guy comes up against a crocodile, and he hasto fight it for survival. In the script, the man and beast both walk away fromthe confrontation scarred, but alive. I liked that. I thought it was perfectsymbolism for what happens later in the movie, during the courtroom dramascene. It’s actually one of the reasons I signed on to the project in the firstplace. That scene moved me.”

Here he pauses and I say nothing, certainly not what I’mthinking, which is to burst out into a Jack Nicholson–style You can’t handlethe truth, crocodile!

“So on Wednesday morning—just two days ago—I’m in my trailer,and I’m getting psyched up for that scene, because we’re scheduled to shoot itat nine. Only my assistant comes in and hands me a revised script. I get thisbad vibe, you know, as she passes it to me. Sure enough, I flip through itlooking for the changes. Now there are snakes hanging around with this croc,and my character has to kill them before even battling the croc. Like it’s avideo game and you have to get past snake level before kicking it up to croclevel. I mean, ultimately it’s not that big of a deal, since I get to havefinal say on how the scene plays out, but now I’m torn.”

He looks at me like this is a significant moment. Like, atthis point in the story, I’m supposed to laugh or cry or gasp, only I don’tknow which response to give. I settle on the truth. “So?”

“Snakes!” He scratches the back of his left hand with hisright, just like he did yesterday, and I realize this is the reason why. Hecan’t stop the itch coming from inside, and it has something to do with thisvery issue. “I fucking hate snakes! They creep me out big-time! It’s, like, oneof the only specifications in my contracts, all caps: NO SNAKES, andthis douche-bag director knows it.”

I can’t help smiling at his use of the term douche bag.Lenny would be so proud. Quickly, I realize what that smile must look like toTim, though, so I try for moral support. “Guy’s clearly a douche.”

“Right?” Tim shakes his head sadly. “So, I was about toremind him of that line item and ask that we return to the original, scripted,snakeless version. Until.” Here he pauses, lost in thought. “Until I thought,what if this character is afraid of snakes, like I am? Then suddenly, thedirector’s rewrite is actually much better than the original. The added depthprovided by this snake-killing scene heightens both the physical and theemotional stakes for my character, bringing him to a place he never knew hecould go.”

“It’s brilliant,” I say, the English teacher in me kickinginto high gear. “Because then the scene possesses both internal andexternal conflict.”

“Exactly.” Only, he doesn’t seem happy about therevelation.

“Great, so you solved the problem!” I say.

“No, because suddenly, I was conflicted. I knewwhat was best for the film. But it wasn’t what was best for me. Lauren,” hesays, his eyes filled with pain. He’s pleading with me not to think less of himas he makes this admission. “I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t green-lightthose serpents. I needed time.”

“So?”

“I walked off set yesterday morning.”

I can see that he’s rattled, admitting this. “That’spretty big, huh?” I sound like Georgie, coaching a child who has just readaloud for the first time.

“Never done it before. Real dick move.”

I try to think of something proactive to say while my mindis