Chapter 5: Bang! You’re Dead

Sunday May 29

Bianca nudged me awake.

“Hmm,” I grunted.

“I know this is a completely irresponsible question, but ... where are my sister and Anabella?”

“Last I saw them they were with this older guy. I’m sure they’re okay.”

The protective big sister reared her ugly head.

“Okay, okay, okay ... Fritz made sure they were put into cabs and sent home,” I explained.

“I’m so dead,” she moaned.

I pulled her to my chest and kissed her forehead.

“Eva said you’ve been working really hard and needed a good night’s sleep. She and Annabella debated whether or not to wake you, but she decided to let you get your rest.”

“She must think I’m a terrible role model. I mean, I barely know you, and here I am in your bed. God, I’m stupid,” she moaned.

“I thought it was ‘¡Ay, Dios mio!’ last night.”

“You’re pretty pleased with yourself. You plied me with alcohol and then lured me into your bed with a massage. Finally, you did something sneaky with my feet and got me aroused.”

“¡Ay, Dios mio!” I said sotto voce to mimic her.

She hit me with her pillow.

“You’re a sexy, intelligent, gorgeous woman. You have every guy eating out of your hand when you perform. You can’t tell me you haven’t heard every possible come-on line. If you didn’t want to be here this morning, you could have shut me down at any point,” I said, and then she nodded. “But I am kind of cute.”

“The male ego! Next, you’ll be wanting me to rate my experience,” she huffed.

“¡Ay, Dios mio!” I reminded her as I batted my eyes.

“Okay, Big Boy. Let’s see if you can duplicate what you did last night,” she challenged.

I clapped my hands, rubbed them together and did my best evil scientist laugh. I do love a challenge.

Even though today was supposed to be a day off, Caryn thought it was important to keep up our weekly meetings. She had me call the office where Dad and Megan were in the conference room. Dad kicked the meeting off with some bad news.

“The Quickie Mart was robbed last night. The owner was hurt and it’s currently closed. He was beaten when he wouldn’t open the safe. The police told me that they only had $75 in change in the safe and it would have been better for him just to give it up.

“I talked to his wife and he’ll be okay, but she’s talking about retiring and moving to Florida,” Dad shared.

“Did the video cameras Fritz installed capture who did it?” I asked.

“I think you know him. It was Tommy Cox.”

Of all the people I knew, he was in the top three for the biggest ass-hat award. The other two were Bill Rogers, who had tried to kill Tracy, and then there was Mike Herndon. Tommy had first come to my attention when he cyberstalked my family and me. Then he was involved in the steroids scandal that almost cost us the season my sophomore year of football.

“Please tell me they caught him.”

“Not yet, but they’re looking for him. Megan just sent the police the video an hour ago. Let Fritz know that the police were impressed with the quality. There’s no doubt who did it.”

“Any other bad news?” I asked.

“Duke cornered a skunk and was banished to the garage for a night,” Dad shared.

“I have a feeling it’s a good thing I’m in Cuba.”

“You owe me big time,” Dad assured me.

“Is he okay?”

“He wasn’t happy about it. You know how he is. He has the whole house on a schedule. Being stuck in the garage turned his world upside down and he decided to bark for most of the night. There was talk of sending him to the farm, but your mom finally calmed down.”

“Mom loves him too much. She only sends me to the farm when I’ve been bad,” I said, which made Dad chuckle.

It was good I could joke about it now.

“How is everything going there?” Dad asked.

“I hate the director, but everything else is going well. I’ve found a baseball team to work out with and I’ve gotten a chance to do some exploring. All in all, it’s been good,” I said.

“Do you think you could send Caryn home?” Dad asked.

I looked at Caryn and could tell that she and Dad had already discussed this. I was a little irritated that she hadn’t talked to me before now to give me a heads-up.

“Why, what do you need?” I asked.

“The restaurant has taken off. Granny and Mary are being run to the bone and they need to hire an additional manager. They also need more staff.”

“And Caryn has helped with all that,” I finished Dad’s thought.

“Plus it sounds like we need to deal with the Quickie Mart,” Dad added.

Megan updated us on the financials and then Dad had one last item.

“Your grandmother has a new roommate.”

“Did she find herself a man?” I asked.

I could imagine how Dad and Uncle John would take that.

“No, a woman.”

Caryn laughed because I must have made a face.

“Yuri’s grandmother, Yelena, moved in, and she’s helping run the farm,” Dad explained.

In a strange way that made a lot of sense. Mrs. Antakova was a tough old bird. She would watch the farm like a hawk. I knew my grandmother hadn’t really wanted to come out of retirement but had done so to help me. That, and she wanted to be closer to family. The two grandmothers had bonded. I was sure they would make a good team.

When we hung up, I looked at Caryn.

“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” she tried.

“Caryn, don’t bullshit me. There were plenty of chances for you to tell me you needed to go back home. In a lot of ways, I envy you. There’s a lot I miss from there.”

“Like a decent shower, and ketchup?” she asked.

“Isn’t it funny that you miss the strangest stuff? Then there are those things you love here.”

“Like that rocket fuel they try to pass off as coffee,” Caryn suggested.

“That’s almost like mainlining caffeine. It tastes horrible, but I can’t wake up without it now. We’ll have to figure out how to make it when we get back.”

“Is there anything I need to take back with me?” she asked.

“If you could take some of the cigars I bought back with you that would help me greatly. You can only take $100 worth through customs. The way it is, I’ll have to get several people to take boxes back for me. I plan on using the cigars as special gifts.”

“You’re sure you’re okay with this? In the big scheme of things, your acting career is much more important than hiring some employees,” she admitted.

“I’m good. If I need someone to help me, I’m sure I can count on Fritz. Plus, you’re just a phone call away.”

We talked about the Quickie Mart. My idea had been to turn it into more of a vegetable stand and not be open as much. Late nights just invited the sort of incident that happened last night. I trusted my dad and Caryn to figure out anything that might come up. She went to her room to pack.

I spent the afternoon with Coach Conde doing batting practice. He had a couple of new pitchers for me to try to hit. He confessed that he was using our time to scout prospects. He convinced me to pay him and he would use the money to get them here for tryouts.

Because it was the weekend, he had two pitchers come in from the eastern part of Cuba. They were from Guantanamo and Las Tunas.

The kid from Guantanamo was a nervous wreck. He was a skinny kid who had a sneaky fastball. It wasn’t overpowering, but it had a lot of movement. It took me a while to figure him out, but once I discovered his tells I crushed him.

“What just happened?” Coach Conde asked.

“His glove goes up a fraction of an inch higher when he’s throwing the fastball. It causes his nose to disappear. If I can see his nose he’s either throwing his changeup or curveball.”

He had me call out the next ten pitches as I peppered hits all over the diamond.

After only three pitches, I could tell the kid from Las Tunas was good. I mean ‘he should be playing in the major leagues someday’ level of good. He had a monster curveball that just fell off the table. If he had just a little bit more control of it, he would be unhittable. With a decent strength program, his fastball would be good enough to make a rotation. The kid was a raw talent that was on the verge of becoming special, with the right coaching.

I was able to hit him, but I wouldn’t want to face him in a couple of years. He was just growing into is body and you could tell he was doing everything solely on his natural gift for throwing the ball. I cornered Coach Conde after our session.

“I hate to tell you what to do, but the last guy is going to be special.”

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

I told him what I thought.

“I just don’t think he’s ready,” he replied.

“If you don’t get him on a strength and conditioning program and the right coaching, he’ll never grow into his talent. You need to get him into a structured program like yesterday.”

“I’m just not sure,” Coach Conde admitted.

I shrugged. It wasn’t up to me to convince him. That didn’t mean I couldn’t help the kid. I got his name and contact information before I left. When I got back to the hotel, I downloaded my body-cam video and emailed it to Lucas Kite, the scout for the Cubs. He would know what to do for the kid.

Monday May 30

Today was the culmination for my character. It was the day I was killed in the movie. I think every actor dreams about a dramatic death scene. Maybe that’s every little boy. I remember my brother and me playing army guys or cowboys and Indians. Part of the fun was dying in some spectacular way.

We were filming in the Plaza de la Catedral, which was in front of the famous cathedral of San Cristobal de la Habana.

It was a perfect early summer day, with blue skies and just wisps of white clouds. The temperature was supposed to reach 88° with a chance of afternoon showers. The afternoon rain was always welcome because it cooled everything off for the evening.

They had transformed the plaza into an open-air market with booths showing off different wares. It was a major production today because they’d had to hire hundreds of extras. This was where Laurent was supposed to shine. He’d done an adaption of William Shakespeare’s tragedy Coriolanus. Part of the story centered on riots that happened in Rome as grain was withheld from its citizens. The film had been nominated for several awards, due in no small part to how he made the riots look authentic.

The premise for today’s scene was that Rick was suspected to have stolen documents from a Cuban official’s home. He was in the process of trying to give those documents to MI6 and the CIA. The Cubans and Russians would do anything to prevent this because it would uncover their plans to place nuclear missiles within striking distance of the US. There was a manhunt to find Rick that involved both Cuban police and Russian KGB.

This was the climactic end of my character, as Rick was chased into the plaza. Rick handed off the documents and was told to make for the port, where he’d been signed on as a crew member of a tramp steamer headed to South America and then to Africa before returning to Europe. The plan was that by the time he arrived back to Europe, the heat would be off and he’d be safe.

Unfortunately, Rick was spotted. He used the crowd to try to lose his pursuers. When he thought he was safe, he made a run for it, only to find a Russian had blocked his escape. Rick was shot. This gave the good guys their chance to leave the plaza with the stolen documents.

Laurent was being a dick as usual, as I ran through a number of scenes leading up to the ending. We had to shoot them numerous times, as he wanted to get different camera angles to help build the suspense. The day had been ramping up to the final dash across the plaza.

“Places everyone! This is it!” Laurent yelled, to get everyone’s attention, and then he looked at me. “Don’t fuck this up.”

I ignored his jab and got ready. The shot was being filmed from three angles. One was a long shot that showed the whole plaza, the second was from above and behind, and the final one was tighter: it was head-on as I burst out of the crowd. The Russian would step forward, come into the frame on the side and then would shoot me.

Being tall, I had to duck down so I didn’t stand out in the crowd.

“Action!”

From up high you could see me push my way through the crowd; in my wake were three Cuban police officers. I pushed into the clear and ran for freedom. I saw a big man in tourist clothes turn and step towards me. I looked back and the police had just come out the crowd and shouted for me to stop. I turned back and the Russian raised his arm with what looked like a cannon. I skidded to a stop and that was when I heard the shot.

In the plaza, the sound rang off the walls of the surrounding buildings. The crowd reacted as one as screams erupted and people tried to get away. I looked down and blood had spurted from the center of my chest as I slumped to the ground. The Russian took two steps towards me and shot me again. This time I collapsed on the ground. The camera closest to me came forward and tilted down so it could capture a close-up of my body while blood pooled around it and my lifeless eyes stared at the perfect blue sky.

“Cut!”

Laurent, Kitty and Roger all went to where they could watch the playback. I assumed they were done with me, so I got up. The special-effects guys had me take off my shirt so they could remove the blood packs. I was covered in stage blood, which required a shower to get off.

When I came back, I found everyone yelling at each other. The stunt coordinator was livid.

“I won’t be a part of it. What you want to do is too dangerous. Without my sign-off, you won’t have any insurance coverage and they will shut this movie down,” he threatened.

Roger, the producer, and Kitty, the assistant director, both looked worried. Bob, the studio watchdog, didn’t seem concerned at all.

“I’m the director and I don’t think the last scene worked. It needs more drama. The kill shot has to be up close and personal,” Laurent said.

“You can’t use that gun to take the shot, then. David would be seriously hurt if you stick the gun against his head and pull the trigger,” the stunt coordinator said.

“There is no way I’m doing that,” I said, stepping forward.

Gun safety had been hammered into me when I learned to shoot guns for Star Academy.

“Oh, dear God! I didn’t want you from the beginning. I knew that when I needed you for a serious scene, I couldn’t count on you. You just don’t have the experience a role like this needs. I’ve had to hold your hand the whole way and that has hurt the movie if you ask me. I’ll never allow them to dictate who will play key roles in one of my movies ever again.

“It’s always ‘poor me.’ I have to explain the littlest details just to get it through your thick head what needs to be done. I was told that you could do a lot of physical stuff, but you couldn’t even run through a swamp without me doing it first so your delicate sensibilities wouldn’t be ruffled. It’s a shame that America no longer produces real men,” he ranted.

“I don’t think you’re capable of listening,” I started, which surprised everyone.

Up to this point, I might have made a few minor retorts to Laurent, but they could tell that this time I was pissed. I looked around and could see that several of them seemed eager for me to stand up to him.

“Guns are not toys. Even with blanks, they can hurt you. What he’s trying to explain to you is that your idea is stupid!” I shouted, and then took a couple of deep breaths. “I will not put my life in danger for this movie again.”

“I suppose you need a real man to do it first,” Laurent said.

He suddenly reached his hand out and took the gun from the stunt coordinator. We all took a step back as he raised it to his temple and pulled the trigger. Everyone froze at the sound of the gun going off. Kitty screamed and we watched in horror as Laurent fell to the ground and the gun clattered across the cobblestones.

I immediately rushed over and my first aid experience kicked in. I checked his neck for a pulse and there wasn’t one. I tilted his head back to make sure his airway was clear and immediately started CPR. There was mayhem as everyone became aware of what had just happened.

I focused on the task at hand, so I was unaware of what was happening around me. I might have hated Laurent, but I didn’t want to see him dead. It seemed like I did CPR forever before an ambulance crew arrived and pushed me out of the way. They worked on him, then put him in the back of the ambulance and whisked him away.

Everyone was in shock. Finally, Roger came out of it enough to send everyone home.

Fritz didn’t get me back to the hotel. The police took me and most of the crew to the local police station where we were all questioned. It took them several hours before they finally got around to talking to me, and then they treated me as if I’d shot him. It was fortunate that I’d been through this a couple of times or I would have lost my temper, which was what they wanted.

When they couldn’t get me to confess, which was ridiculous, they finally let me go with an instruction not to leave town. They’d gone to the hotel and collected all our passports to assure we weren’t going anywhere.

It was after midnight when I finally got to the hotel. I was tired and hungry but tired won out and I went to bed.

Tuesday May 31

Everyone was required to go to a meeting first thing in the morning. Roger Brooks must have drawn the short straw because he had to talk to us.

“Laurent Vance was declared dead on arrival at the hospital yesterday afternoon. The movie has been put on hold until the police finish their investigation. I would ask that you remain patient while we work this out,” was his short statement.

“Is there a chance they might pull the plug on the movie?” Heath asked.

From Roger’s look, you could tell the answer was yes. Bob Trimble, the studio suit, saw this could turn ugly, so he stepped up.

“The studio has sunk a lot of money into the production of this movie so far. I would think that it would only make sense to finish it,” he reasoned.

“The problem is insurance. We’ve had the problem with the crocodiles and now a death on set. I would suspect that we’re considered a serious risk at this point,” the stunt coordinator said.

I stepped out the back door of the room and called Caryn.

“I need you to find out something for me. If the studio pulls the movie before it’s done shooting, do I get paid?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Is that even a possibility?” she asked.

“Laurent Vance accidentally shot and killed himself on set yesterday.”

There was silence on the other end and I could hear her keyboard tapping.

“Oh, my God! He really did.”

Someone had just done an Internet search.

“I know this sounds completely mercenary, but find out. We might all be packed up and out of here in the next few days.”

I stepped back into the room and people were upset. Fritz filled me in. They were all complaining about the movie shutting down ... or that was what was assumed was going to happen.

“Before we pack up and leave, I have a question? How much of the film is left on the storyboard?” I asked.

“We’re a little over halfway done. The good news is we have a big chunk of b-roll that needs to be shot, so actual acted scenes are close to done,” Kitty told us.

B-roll was cutaway or filler shots either to establish a location or to move the story along between scenes with actors in them. A good example would be a couple having dialogue in an outdoor café. The b-roll would be the cutaway shot of across the street.

“Did Laurent share with you his remaining shot list?” Bob, the suit, asked.

“Yes,” Kitty admitted.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but Kitty directed a few of my scenes. I think she could finish this if we all helped her. Personally, I don’t want to walk away from this movie. I think it has a chance of being really good,” I admitted.

This was a better movie than either Star Academy or The Secret Circle, as far as acting went. They both would make more money than this would, but The Royal Palm had better character development. It had to because it wasn’t based on action like the other two had been.

My comments didn’t stop the bitching, but the tone changed and people started to talk themselves around to finishing the movie. Kitty’s eyes locked with mine and she gave me a warm smile. Bob had started saying they probably wouldn’t need to bring in another director if Kitty took over. This could be a real opportunity for her.

I couldn’t listen to everyone talk about what would happen with the movie for very long. What we needed was Judge Mom. She had a rule that you could talk as long as you didn’t start to repeat yourself. I’d thought that if I repeated a point over and over again, she would see my brother, Greg, was really wrong and I would win my court case. There was no point in listening here because the decision wasn’t ours to make. I was sure Bob would make a good case for us, because this was his first movie, or so he said.

When I came out of the never-ending meeting, we all went to my suite. I called Caryn back and she said that Ari told her I was guaranteed some money, but the bulk would be paid when the film hit theaters.

“So what do you guys want to do today?” I asked.

“In the lobby, they had flyers for vintage car tours. They have old convertibles you ride around in and the driver takes you to different places,” Cassidy suggested.

Everyone thought playing tourist for the day was a good idea. I’d borrowed my dad’s camera and this sounded like the perfect opportunity to break it out. Fritz called down to the concierge and booked an afternoon outing.

The front desk called when our driver was there. His name was Fabio and he had a red and white 1955 Oldsmobile Starfire convertible. His English was great and he knew what he was doing. He took us to Morro Castle, a fortress guarding the entrance to Havana Bay. We then went to the Plaza de la Revolución where political rallies or important events occurred. Fabio told us that the Pope had held mass there.

He then took us through Old Havana. Fabio explained that this area was colonized by Spain in 1519 and it was named San Cristobal de La Habana. Over 900 buildings had been restored to preserve their history. Fabio called the style of building ‘Tropical Baroque,’ a simple, graceful combination of columns and arches.

Our tour lasted a little over three hours and we all had a good time. Cassidy even found a hat she liked which I bought to replace the one the crocodile ate.

Wednesday June 1

There was still no word on what the studio wanted to do as far as the movie went. The police, on the other hand, had ruled Laurent’s death an accident, so we all got our passports back. Fritz had collected the footage of the incident that he, Paul and I had from our body-cams. Caryn had talked to Frank and Ms. Dixon about the accident and they’d advised that we keep it ‘just in case.’ That didn’t sound ominous at all.

My interview with Nino Suárez had aired last night in conjunction with the news of Laurent’s death. I knew this because Bob Trimble asked me to attend a press conference. The reason he gave was they’d asked for me because my Spanish was passable in the interview that had aired.

The press conference was held in one of the hotel conference rooms. When I came in, Nino introduced me to the other Cuban reporters. He pointedly did not introduce me to a reporter from Miami. I got the impression that the Cubans didn’t like the woman.

They’d set up a table with a podium. At the table, Bob was there to represent the studio along with Kitty, Roger and myself. Bob got up and read a brief statement about the loss of Laurent Vance. When he was done, Nino stood.

“Mr. Dawson, would you mind us asking you some questions?”

I walked them through the scene and the accident. I left out the parts where he’d been a fool and responsible for his own death. I didn’t think it was right to express my opinion on the matter. Then the reporter from Miami got her turn.

“The Cuban community in Miami is upset about President Obama’s recent trip to Havana,” she said.

I just stared at her. Frank had taught me that I shouldn’t be baited into making a comment without thinking it out first. Frankly, she’d made a statement and hadn’t asked a question. Something else that had me a little worried was I wasn’t in the United States right now. I was in Cuba, and I’d been warned not to make negative comments about Castro or Cuba while I was there. So I waited her out.

“What are your views on that?” she asked, getting frustrated with my silence.

Frank had written me a quick blurb to use if I was asked anything difficult about Cuba. It was time to use it.

“Ma’am, I don’t mean any disrespect, but I can’t answer your question. I’m a guest in this country and working as an actor. When I get home, I’ll be a high school student. It’s obvious that I have neither the training nor the understanding of all the issues to be able to give you an informed and reasoned response, so I’m not in a position to answer that.

“I will say that I’ve enjoyed my stay here. The people of Cuba have been nothing but hospitable and I feel privileged that I’ve received the opportunity to visit this fine country.

“I also hate to say this, but I don’t think this is the time or place for this discussion. We all lost a colleague yesterday, and that should be our focus,” I said and saw Nino nod to me.

I’d argued that it didn’t sound like me. The ‘reasoned response’ line sounded like I was fifty. Frank assured me that it was a good non-answer and would get the interview back to being focused on Laurent and not my opinion. Once again, I was thankful I’d hired him.

Then she hit me with one I wasn’t prepared for.

“In your latest movie, The Secret Circle, there’s a scene that has caused some controversy. Some religious groups have protested the movie because it depicts witchcraft and you reportedly had actual sex in one of the scenes.”

I just stared at her.

“What do you have to say?” she asked, getting impatient.

“I’m sorry; I thought you were making a statement. What is your question?” I asked, getting a chuckle from the other reporters.

“Did you actually have sex in the film? Is that clear enough for you?” she asked.

Everything in me screamed lie! Frank had always said the cover-up was what got you, so I ignored those screams. I also had a mom who was much better at getting the full story out of me than this hack.

“I’m assuming you’re talking about the scene between my character and Diana. Emma Stoned is a fantastic actress who helped me through that difficult scene. After filming it, I understand when actors say that romantic scenes are some of the hardest to do. It’s not like you’re alone.

“Even if they clear the set, there’s the director, videographers, sound technicians, and in our case the producer. I’ve heard horror stories of an actor’s family or significant other being in the room while they shot.

“So you get an idea of how hard a scene like that is. Emma helped me every step of the way. We had to do several takes to get what they wanted on film. I’ve not seen the final product, but people have told me that it came off as very realistic. That was all Emma,” I said, and then stood up and stepped away from the microphones.

After the interview, Nino stopped me to see if I’d heard anything from Adrienne. I had to tell him that I hadn’t. I assured him I would let them know when she got back to me. Adrienne was either looking for something for them or wasn’t interested. She would let me know when she was ready.

We went to my suite and I had Paul download his body-cam footage of the last question and response and sent it to Frank. It took him all of five minutes to call me.

“Well, shit. I guess I should have warned you that Emma has been asked about it several times. You’ve just not been exposed to the US press, so I wasn’t worried. I suspect that by the time you get back some other big story will dominate the news rather than whether you had sex.”

“Are we good with the answer I gave?” I asked.

“No, no, I mean yes. You did great. I’m not sure I would’ve answered the same way, but you put the focus on the process. They’ve heard some of the same stories you have, and they’ll believe you didn’t really have a chance to do it,” Frank said.

“Can you get word to Emma, so we keep our story straight?” I asked.

“I already sent it to her people. We’re all good.”

Coach Conde had two more pitching prospects for me to bat against this afternoon. It was a good distraction for me while the movie sorted itself out. They were both raw and I had to eat dirt a few times when pitches got away, but it was good practice for me nonetheless.