The Hungry House (10 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The day I was to visit the set finally arrived, and it should have been one of the most thrilling days of my life, but it was tinged with sorrow because of the news that Mom's condition had worsened. The doctor reported the tumor appeared to be the same size, but Liz was extremely tired and weak. She had to be admitted to the hospital, where tests confirmed that the treatment for her cancer had not worked; it had spread. I had wanted to cancel the visit to the set, but Mom was adamant that I go, telling me to take as long as needed and that she wanted to "have a chat" when I returned. So, troubled as I was, I arrived as planned, after driving in the darkness just before break of day.

The scene was shot inside
the People's Coop grocery store in Southeast Portland, which had been closed down for filming. A three-block radius had been cordoned off for the purpose. I caught up with a young man with glasses who wore a headset in one ear, walking past me at a fast clip and asked where I could find John. I was directed to his trailer. Once there, I sat, then I paced while continually making bargains with God. If you cure my mother, when I'm a doctor I'll treat people for free. Yes, that's it. I'll join Doctors Without Borders. If you cure my mother, I'll enter a convent. Oh, just give me a sign of whatever I have to do, and I'll do it. Even better, take me instead. Yes, that's the answer. Take me instead of my mother.

A few minutes after my
arrival, John and Matt entered the trailer so John could have a cup of coffee in peace.

John glanced at
me with a grin, "Okay kid, I'm almost awake and ready to go. He reclined on the leather sofa, and closed his eyes, occasionally sitting up to sip his coffee. Matt sat still and silent, while the great man rested, as if he were in church. A couple of minutes later, the three of us were out the door.

When we reached the set, it was amazing how many people were standing around. It seemed as if there were 15
or 20 people, most wearing headsets. I walked past a large screen set on a table next to the camera that showed the film set.

John purposely strode over to several directors chairs and introduced me
to a 30-ish man with a beard. "This is Josh Cohen, one of my assistant directors." Josh seemed preoccupied with some papers in his hand and did not look up.

Then to Josh, "This is a friend of mine, Vicky Howell."

Now Josh gave me his full attention.  He stood and quickly put the papers down on his seat behind him. "It's an honor to meet you."

I was given an honorary seat next to John in one of the directors chairs that had my name printed on the back canvas in large letters.

John looked
incredibly serious and focused. In a loud voice, he said, "Let's go for a take!"

The assistant director, Josh, yelled out, "Quiet on the set." Instant silence ensued.

A large number of people, who seemed to have been waiting somewhere nearby, entered the set, looking at the floor. I noticed some white marks; it seemed they had to stand on those marks.

Josh yelled, "Roll it!"

Someone called out, "Rolling." Then I heard, "Speed."

Then a woman in jeans came out with a board close to an actor's face, clacked the board, just as I'd seen in the movies countless times and said, "Twenty-two, take one," loudly enough for everyone to hear.

I noticed that the microphone, was suspended by a long pole and held close above the actor's head who had the board clacked in front of her face before the take. Much later, I learned that this "microphone" was called a boom, the long pole a boom pole, and the person holding it the boom operator.

Everyone on set began moving around or talking, pushing a basket, pi
nching fruit, or just strolling. Two people in the background were conversing, although inaudibly. The female lead character pushed her basket around the store, while being discretely trailed by a young man wearing a knit cap, stained clothing, and a day's growth of beard. Finally, as her character stood at the organic banana counter in the produce section, the young man "accidentally" dropped a bunch of bananas on her feet.

He said
, "Sorry," and leaned over to pick them up and then said, trying to strike up a conversation with her:  "You know, sometimes I wonder if I should pay extra for organic products or just give the money to needy people."

To which the female
character replies, very earnestly:  "Well, it's not a case of 'either/or.'  That's a false dichotomy, like asking 'should we help animals or people?'  We should buy organic produce, help needy people,
and
help animals. All of creation is worthy of our love." There was a dramatic pause.

Then, a
disheveled and dirty homeless man brushed past her.with such force that she lost her balance and fell. On the floor, she could be heard to mutter, "oh crap buckets."

John yelled, "Cut! Do it again." Then, to Josh, "What's that kid's name?"

"I don't know."

Josh spoke into his headset,
"Rick, what's that clumsy kid's name?"

Then to John, Josh said, "Steve."

John called out, "Steve."

The extra
, his face reddening, looked up at John. "So sorry."

John said, "Don't be sorry. Just don't push so hard. You barely have to touch her. Okay?"

Steve made on "o" with his thumb and forefinger. "Got it."

Then Josh yelled, "Quiet on the set!" and the whole process began again.

This time, when the extra brushed against the actress, he did it right, pushing her slightly off-balance. She turned and snarled at him, "Why don't you watch where you're going, you filthy
loser
!" The young man who had been trailing her darted away in fear.

John praised everyone
for doing such a good job in so short a time.

Then he turned to
me, "Well, what do you think?"

"I'm very impressed with everything." I said.

"Of course you are. You've never been on a film set. What I meant was, what do you think of the scene as it's written and presented?"

"
Oh--well--It's very good. Of course, it will infuriate some people, but it's right on the mark."

"So, you really like it and think it fits Portland?"

"Yes. I do. I hope the rest of the film is as good."

Later,
the three of us walked back to the trailer. John was elated about how well the schedule was going and spoke to Matt, as he came in through the door. "Well, we're doing well, but I think we might need--"

Suddenly, I could no longer hold myself together. John
rushed over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

I swallowed hard.
"John, Mom's going to die. The treatments didn't work." He took me in his arms in a gentle hug, and I clung to him and sobbed.

"I'm so, so sorry, little one." Matt brought a tissue box, and John wiped my cheeks.

When I could finally stop crying, John held my shoulders and looked deeply into my eyes. In his deep brown pools, I could see real anguish.

"I
wish I could spend the rest of the day with you, but I'm behind budget as it is. I think you should go home now. And, remember, you're not alone. I have to get back to work, but I'll be there this evening."

"Matt, get a car service for
her, and have someone take her car home."

"You shouldn't be driving just now
. Give Matt your car key. Sit down here on the sofa and wait for your driver."

I
waited deep in thought after John and Matt left. Soon, there was a knock at the door, and a uniformed chauffer was there. He led the way to an stretch SUV and opened the back door for me. Ordinarily, I would have been delighted to enjoy such a luxury, but today I hardly noticed my surroundings.

Once home, I quickly darted
into the bathroom and repaired my face. Then, I went to Mom's room. She sat up in bed drinking tea, the saucer resting in her lap as she sipped from her cup and gazed out the window. One of Margaret's tea trays sat beside her on the bed.

When
I walked through the door, Mom turned to me and smiled. "What are you doing back here so soon?"

"Well, the
shoot went off without a hitch, and they sent me home."

"Come here and sit dow
n. I want to talk to you."

"This afternoon, I want to go outside for a few minutes and sit in the fresh air, and then I want us to have dinner together here in my room
. But first, I, I want to talk to you about my funeral."

Once again, t
ears began to stream down my face. "No, mother…."

"Don't 'no mother' me
. We've always been strong, now haven't we?  Don't fail me now, my beautiful one. I'm fading, and I have to get this out." I grabbed a clump of tissues and wiped my face. With great difficulty I composed myself.

“I
spoke to Father about all of it this morning, but I want to make sure you understand it also."

"I want
to be buried as soon as possible after I die, and I want the funeral Mass to be held immediately. No embalming. You understand?  I want to be buried right away."

"Th
en, on a lighter note, Frank has agreed to have the funeral reception in his house, a couple of weeks later. It is to be a celebration of my life. Margaret will ensure there is a nice spread of food. There will be beer, hard liquor, and champagne for those who drink alcohol and, of course, tea, coffee, soda, and sparkling water for those who don't imbibe. Be sure that all the old or sick people of the church are invited, as well as the few who don't have cars. The church often helped us in the past, and now this is one last chance I have to provide something for those in need. Have transportation provided to my reception for those who need it. And, I want all your friends and your young man to be there. Are you with me so far?"

"Yes
."

"M
y burial is already paid for."

"But--
how did you do that?"

"That was the only wise provision your father and I made before his untimely death
. We went to Mt. Calvary and made all the arrangements, so that we would be sure to be buried alongside each other." Liz smiled at the memory, her eyes staring, as if at something far off in the distance.

"Now,
I, I know you will mourn for me, but don't grieve too long. I'm going to be with your Dad, and my bones will rest right beside him, until the Lord comes. Always remember my soul is in a better place. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes
. Yes, I can." I suddenly remembered the peace that had enveloped me, like a warm blanket, at my father's grave.

"Good girl
. Now, you may visit my grave as often as you want, but don't
live
there, dear. I don't want you to visit me every day for a year or anything morbid like that. I never did that with your father. At first, it is very hard, but then it gets easier. I knew your father wanted me to be happy, and we both want
you
to be happy."

"If and when you go back to school, think about whether premed is what you really want, in your heart
. Don't try to live your father's life for him. Find your own path. I know it is hard to lose both your parents before you're twenty, but don't let it ruin everything for you. You have a lot to live for. Your whole life is ahead of you. Will you promise me that you will follow your heart and try to be happy?"

"Yes, of course
, anything. I promise, mother, I promise."

"
Now--I'm very tired. I have to sleep." As Liz lay down in the bed, I helped her with her pillows and adjusted the covers. After Liz had turned onto her right side and closed her eyes, I tenderly kissed her on the forehead and left the room.

I
walked into the large garden surrounding the house and stopped at the inside corner of the stone wall behind the pool cabana, where no one could see or hear me, and sat down on the wooden bench. The bench was beautifully carved, and the garden around it delightfully landscaped.

As I tried to envision my future without mom, I
saw only darkness. There on the bench, beside the sheltering wall, out of everyone's hearing and sight, I sobbed my heart out until I could cry no more. Finally, reluctantly, I returned to the cottage where I repeatedly bathed my face with cold water. Then I applied concealer and mascara to my red eyes.

Mom
was too tired to go outside in the afternoon. That evening, Margaret and I dined on TV trays in her room, as requested. I noticed that Mom ate little of her chicken broth and crackers but rather pretended to eat, sipping invisible broth from her spoon from time to time as we talked.

At one point, she looked at Margaret
. "How is 'Fank' doing 'zese' days?"