My Life as a Stuntboy (5 page)

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Authors: Janet Tashjian

BOOK: My Life as a Stuntboy
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Matt's eyes pop out of his head like a cartoon wolf when it sees a pretty girl.
“Do you mean …” I can't even finish my own sentence.
When Tony stands up, he looks like a sculpture of a lean muscle machine. “I'm talking about you, on camera, getting paid to do stunts.”
I break the land speed record getting home.
 
 
Because my dad is a storyboard artist, I've been on movie sets plenty of times. And if you live in Los Angeles, you're used to films being shot around the city on a regular basis. But being able to jump and skateboard and climb on camera takes my interest in movies to a whole new level.
I shove another forkful of meatloaf into my mouth, then realize I
should use my best manners if I want my parents' okay. I even wait until I finish chewing before speaking again. “Maybe they'll light my clothes on fire and let me run through the middle of the promenade,” I say.
My mother closes her eyes, which means she's trying to calm herself down before she answers. “When I spoke to Tony, he said he's only interested in you doing what you were doing on campus—climbing walls, skateboarding down the rail, that kind of thing. Minimal stuntwork.”
minimal
cockamamie
“Things some big-shot kid actor is too afraid to do,” I say.
My father is still processing the fire remark. “You are not jumping off a bridge, lighting yourself on fire, or any other cockamamie idea.
Got that? These people are professionals. If you want to do this, you have to be one too.”
I nod as if being mature is what I dream about at night.
“Tony gave me several references,” Mom says. “The people who've worked with him give him high marks. And they'd only need you on set for a few days.”
I drop my fork onto my plate, and the noise gives Bodi a start. “A few days? I thought I'd miss a month or two of school!”
My father laughs. “You'll probably have a day to rehearse and a few days to shoot. And the law requires a parent or guardian on set and three hours a day of schoolwork.”
Figures that my parents could turn something as amazing as being
a junior stuntman into a sad excuse for homework.
“What else?” I ask. “Tests, boring assemblies, and bad cafeteria food?”
“Tony's sending over the script for Dad and me to read before we decide. It's the story of a kid whose neighbors are aliens. One of your scenes takes place on a soundstage in Culver City made up to look like the neighborhood on Halloween. The other is on a set made to look like a junkyard.”
mandatory
Now this is more like it! Aliens, junkyards, and stunts? I shove the tutor and three hours a day of mandatory homework into a tiny corner of my brain and concentrate on how great this is going to be.
Just as I'm about to taste victory, my father wipes his mouth with his
napkin and pushes his plate away. “If Mom and I agree to this, you know we're going to need something from you in return.”
commitment
I'm afraid to ask.
“We're going to need a commitment on your reading. A promise to read and work on your vocabulary every single day.”
As he talks, I try to remember if he and I have ever had a conversation that didn't include some kind of pep talk about reading. But this time is different. If they give their permission, I'll even promise to grow up and become a librarian—
that's
how much I want to be in this movie.
 
 
rumor
The rumor that a famous stuntman asked me to be in his new movie flies through the school. I'm the one who started the rumor, of course, but still it's nice to have some attention that isn't focused on my low grades.
Carly and I talk for a minute after art class while Maria and Denise giggle behind us—it's kind of lame
but also kind of cool. When I see Matt stick his finger in his mouth to fake-vomit, I leave Carly and run down the hall to catch up to him.
“Your parents haven't even said yes yet,” Matt says. “Are you sure you want to tell the whole school?”
“They're going to say yes,” I answer. “They're just going to make me work for it.”
“Tony was at UCLA other times too,” Matt says. “He came over once, but I left before he could talk to met.”
I'm not sure what Matt is trying to say. “Do you mean he wanted to hire you instead of me?”
Matt shrugs. “Why not? We both do the same routines.”
I stop short in the hall and remind Matt that I had just walked up
five levels of stairs on the handrails when Tony approached me.
Matt leans in close. “Are you calling me a chicken?”
aggressive
“Why are you acting like this?” I ask. “Stop being such a jerk.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Carly watching us and am embarrassed to be seen in an almost fight with my suddenly aggressive best friend.
“
You're
the jerk,” Matt says. “Your scene will probably be cut from the movie anyway.”
I'm stuck watching Matt's back as he hurries toward his locker.
“Deep down, I'm sure he's happy for you,” Carly says. “He probably just wants to be in the movie too.”
“How would you know?” I head in the opposite direction, leaving Carly in the middle of the hall alone.
It's almost like this meteor of negative energy crashed into the hall and ricocheted from Matt to me and then to Carly. But when I turn back to apologize, Carly's already gone.
ricocheted
 
 
“Okay,” Mom says. “Here's the deal.”
I brace myself for what's coming.
“When you wanted to adopt Frank, that was the only thing in the world you cared about,” Dad says.
“Homework, chores—nothing else mattered but getting that monkey,” Mom adds.
The sinking feeling in my stomach tells me where this conversation is going.
“You agreed to take on some added responsibility, but once Frank arrived, you ignored all your promises.” Dad's expression looks more serious than the bust of a president at city hall.
Mom leans back in her kitchen chair. “This pattern of desperately wanting things, then disregarding your end of the bargain is a bad habit that has to stop.”
My parents have obviously forgotten what it's like to be a kid with no money, no car, and no power. Of course we say anything to get what we want—what else are we supposed to do? I feel bad they're out of touch with the way things work, so I continue to listen politely.
appropriate
“The good news,” Dad says, “is that we read the script and think the movie is fun and appropriate for
kids your age.” He pulls the screenplay out of his bag. “Do you want to read it? Check out the story before you sign on?”
Great, more assigned reading. I tell Dad I'll definitely read it before we start shooting. Definitely maybe, that is.
“Also, we talked to Tony, and the three stunts he wants you to do are things you do all the time anyway. He reviewed them with us thoroughly, and Mom and I agree they seem safe,” Dad adds.
“Does that mean yes?” All I want is for them to agree so this conversation can end.
“Your mom and I will have to sign lots of permission forms and releases if you do this,” Dad says. “So we want you to sign something too.”
My mother takes a sheet of paper from the folder on the counter. It's neatly typed and has a place for a signature at the bottom.
signature
“Is this a contract?” I ask.
“That's exactly what it is,” she answers. “And it has three sections.”
I bang my head against the kitchen table until my father makes me stop.
Mom continues. “I, Derek Fallon, agree to the following. One: I will change Frank's diaper once a day.”
She looks up to gauge my reaction. All I can think about is
How badly do I want to be in this movie? Is it worth handling monkey poop?
After a few minutes of contemplation, I decide it is.
contemplation
“Okay,” I agree. “What's next?”
“Not so fast,” Dad says. “You
had agreed to help out with Frank before. This time, you're signing a contract. I suggest you read the fine print.”
It seems like there's no way of getting out of this. I scan the paragraph entitled “Section One.”
“This is outrageous!” I yell. “If I don't change Frank, you take away my skateboard? What if I forget?”
“Hopefully, signing your life away will help you remember.” Mom moves down to the next section. “Two: I will read one book a month for fun.”
galaxy
“How can it possibly be fun if you're forcing me to do it?” I suddenly realize my parents' bodies have been taken over by aliens from another galaxy. If I don't escape soon, they will suck out my brains through my nostrils while I sleep. I make a beeline for the door.
“You don't have to sign the contract,” the dad alien says. “They'll just get some other kid to do the stunts.”
conquer
I wonder how long before these aliens decide to conquer the rest of the planet and will finally leave me alone. “What's the third section?”
The mom life-form finally smiles. “Section three states that you agree to have a fabulous time on the movie.”
This is obviously an intergalactic trick to try and get me to surrender, so I read the rest of the contract very carefully. Sure enough, the last section tells me to have fun shooting the movie.
“Think you can manage Frank and some reading?” Dad says. “I don't think your mother and I are asking too much.”
identical
Mom holds out the pen, and eventually I take it. I sign my name at the bottom of the form. Then Mom makes me sign an identical one so I have my own copy.
She hands it to me and shakes my hand like she's closing a business deal. “Congratulations, Derek. I'll call Tony tomorrow and tell him you can start rehearsals.”
Inside I'm jumping up and down with happiness, but that still doesn't keep me from turning on the hallway light before I go to bed—in case my parents really
have
been taken over by aliens.

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