Dead Sky Morning

“I can check whatever the fuck I want to check, especially when it’s on my own phone.”

 

“You’re technically on the clock right now.”

 

“Oh, whatever, Dex, since when is it any of your business? And why do you care so much? I don’t believe you have that much concern for my well–being.”

 

“It is my business. You know I have to keep you in check here and that’s hard to do when you keep getting sucked into this shit.”

 

“You don’t think much of me, do you?”

 

He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes to the heavens. He plopped down beside me on the log, leaned forward with his elbows propped up on his knees and folded his hands into a steeple.

 

“I’m going to say this only once, kiddo,” he said slowly, his voice bordering on fatherly and fed up. “You know I think the world of you.”

 

Actually, that was news to me. He could see the skepticism on my face.

 

“I do. All those things I said last night about...you, I meant them all.”

 

Ugh. Why did he have throw that in there? Butterflies at the pit of my chest were beginning to stir. They did not need the encouragement.

 

“But again, it doesn’t and shouldn’t matter what I think. It’s all about what you think. What you think about yourself. Obviously this crap is getting to you; otherwise, you wouldn’t bother checking and you wouldn’t be getting upset.”

 

“I’m not upset,” I said and opened my eyes wider.

 

He gave me a sad smile. “You looked pretty miserable as I was coming over. You think you’re pretty good at hiding those eyes of yours. But you’re not.”

 

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not as deceptive as you are.”

 

“It’s a learned art. You’re better off learning how to not give a shit about what other people think of you. Whether it’s what some strangers on the internet think, whether it’s what your old classmates think, or what I think or what your parents think, in the end, no one’s opinion should matter but your own.”

 

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t be listening to you right now?”

 

“You’re not getting out of this that easily. And I’m not giving you back your phone either.”

 

I stared at him, dumbfounded. He had to be joking but his eyes said he wasn’t.

 

“You’re confiscating my phone!?”

 

He got up off the log. “For now. We’re all ready to shoot. I’ve got the camera up on the tripod, lighting is perfect. We are ready to go and I need you in the moment. Need you to be here and ready to tell the island’s tale.”

 

I was barely listening to him. My eyes flitted to the water, finding the rhythmic waves a less aggravating sight than Dex lording over me with a stupid smug look on his face. Sometimes I felt like we were total equals with each other and other times it felt like we were in some bizarre teacher–student situation. Or doctor–patient, as it seemed to be now.

 

“Aw, now you’re mad,” he said mockingly, bringing a cigarette to his mouth and lighting it.

 

I avoided his face and sucked in through my teeth. Stupid jerk. I had half a mind to pick up one of the stones and throw it at him. The anger inside me was astonishing enough that I was almost afraid I’d do it. He twitched a little too, as if he could feel the energy rolling towards him in an invisible wave.

 

But I just got to my feet, grabbed my books and walked off towards the grassy knoll, my feet sliding awkwardly on the stones as I went.

 

“Where are you going?” he asked.

 

I didn’t answer. It should have been pretty obvious. I could see the camera already set up on the hill, all he needed was me. Might as well get this part over with. I wasn’t exactly in the camera host mood but by God I was going to have to fake it.

 

I made a quick stop in the tent. I zipped the door behind me so he’d have the common sense not to come in after me, and attempted to make myself camera–ready.

 

I changed into a flattering v–neck, long–sleeved shirt and swiped on a coat of cherry lipstick that was the same vivid red. Yeah, this was obviously not my usual on–camera attire but you know, fuck that. I was going to prove I did deserve to be out there. I knew the top made my breasts look great. I mean hey, Jenn shows hers off on freaking Wine Babes and she has nothing on me in that department, plus the red coloring and lipstick suited my skin tone and hair. I didn’t care if I was going to freeze my ass off, I was a professional and this is what was going to happen.

 

I decided to keep my black jeans and Chucks on and applied a few eye–opening strokes of mascara. I was ready to go.

 

I stepped out of the tent and immediately was struck into submission by the cold wind.

 

Mind over matter, I thought to myself, though I suddenly wished I had worn a more padded bra. Oh well, I’d just make the headlights work for me. Keeping my chattering teeth quiet, I strode up the path over to the hill, where Dex was now fiddling with the camera settings.

 

The hill was grassy and undulating, with rocky mounds here and there. I didn’t let my mind think about whether they could be graves or not. The view was gorgeous, especially in the fading sunlight. The beached curved out to our right, while a rocky shoreline and smaller beach spread to the left. Across the way sat the stoic Little D’Arcy Island and its lone house.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Dex exclaimed. He had looked up from the camera and was staring at me all bug–eyed. Not ogling me, unfortunately, just surprised.

 

“Is there a problem?” I asked testily and crossed my arms. Naturally this made my cleavage even more impressive. I was doing it out of anger, though, I swear.

 

“Uhhh.” He blinked hard and tried to focus.

 

“You are such a guy,” I remarked, shaking my head at him.

 

He let out a small laugh, but kept his eyes on my chest. “Yeah, I guess I am. Sorry, I…you just surprised me…you’re normally not…aren’t you freezing?”

 

I shrugged as casually as possible. “I’m fine. Are we going to do this or what? We don’t have that much use of the light and we’re wasting time talking.”

 

He hesitated. He wasn’t used to me telling him what to do.

 

“OK,” he said quickly. “Let’s go then. Stand a bit over to the right, maybe back up a foot so you don’t, uh, overwhelm the camera.”

 

I did as he said, holding my shoulders back and tried to calm my nerves. I may have looked confident but I didn’t feel it all. I was just going to have to fake the whole thing. I’d show everyone just how professional I could be.

 

Dex fiddled a bit with a bounceboard on the ground, propping it up against a rock (grave?) and gave the camera the final once–over.

 

“Rolling,” he said. He pointed at me. “Go.”

 

I took a deep breath, readied myself, and went into a lengthy intro about the island’s history and a detailed, dramatic description of what it would be like to have been one of the lepers. I don’t know where it was all coming from. I had been going over in my head earlier some key points to focus on and what order to do them in, but the description about the Chinese lepers just came out of nowhere.

 

By the time I was done, I was shaking at the knees from the overload of nerves (and the cold) and I was out of breath from trying to sound clear, concise and confident.

 

“Cut,” Dex said slowly and a bit unsurely. He looked up from the camera, not looking impressed like I had thought he would. He looked utterly confused.

 

“What the hell was that? Better yet, who the hell was that?”

 

I felt a bit defensive. I thought I did an awesome job and I rarely thought that about myself.

 

“I was trying to be professional.”

 

“Yeah, well, you were, kiddo. You were. But that’s not why people love you. The world expects a pose from everyone these days. You have to loosen the fuck up. That wasn’t you.”

 

“Yes, Dex, it was me. That was me being professional and apparently people want that.”

 

“No, they don’t. They want you being you. They want your personality.”

 

“I’m a goof. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing half the time.”

 

He stepped out from behind the camera and took a step closer to me. “I know you don’t. That’s what makes you…charming. That’s why you’re doing this with me.”

 

I sighed, all confidence rolling out of me. Even when I try to change, I fail.

 

“See,” he said, walking forward until he was right in front of me. He pushed a piece of hair back behind my ear. I flinched slightly at his touch. I couldn’t help it. My nerves were jumping all over the place. “This is exactly why I don’t want you to give a shit about those comments. I know what they say. But that’s the opinion of a few people, and most likely, just one person. They’re just a jackfuck who doesn’t know what they are talking about. Everyone else, Jimmy included, they want you. Just as you, as Perry Palomino. And that’s why we’re going to have to do that all over again.”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I cried out. I was so ready to throw in the towel.

 

He cocked his head at me. “Just once. The information, it’s all great. I liked what you did with the lepers and everything. That’s perfect. But, come on, baby.”

 

Baby? He reached for my shoulders and shook them around, my boobs jostling up and down. He tried, with little success, not to notice.

 

“Relax. Get jiggy with it. Have fun. I know you’re a fun person. Let’s let everyone see that.”

 

Though I was appreciating how close he was to me and the fact that he was still holding my shoulders with his strong grip, I had to say, “This is still a ghost story, right? It’s not Girls Gone Wild.”

 

“Hey, you’re the one who put on that shirt.” He leered and walked back to the camera. “It’s just you and me here. Tell me about the island. I was barely listening the first time anyway. Things were, uh, distracting me. Tell me what you know. And go.”

 

And so I pretended that Dex hadn’t heard anything I said, and described everything as if it was for an audience of one. He asked the question, I responded, simple as that.

 

When I was done, Dex broke into that genuine, wide smile that so rarely stretched across his face.

 

“See how much better that was! Did you feel how much better that was?”

 

Not really, though I was more relaxed. I messed up a few times regardless of whether I was just supposed to be talking to Dex.

 

He could see I wasn’t convinced. “It was much better. And just one take. Now that that part is done, we don’t have to worry about it, and it’s right on time. Look at that fucking sunset.”

 

I turned around and saw the golden sun heading down for the horizon where a far–off freighter was making a nautical silhouette. My arms and chest glowed golden. And suddenly I was freezing, almost unbearably cold. The adrenaline of being on camera was gone and my goose bumps were out in full force.

 

I shivered and made a beeline for the tent. “OK, it’s time for a sweater,” I said through chattering teeth.

 

“Aww, don’t be so modest now,” I heard Dex call out from behind me.

 

I put on a Fu Manchu sweatshirt and my yellow coat on top and helped Dex put away the camera equipment before the darkness came. Then we got our lanterns and flashlights out and started setting out the small cooking stove on the picnic table adjacent to the tent. I heated up two cans of ravioli for us (yeah, totally gourmet) while Dex fixed another tarp across the table. It didn’t look like it was going to rain, but if it did, it would be nice to have a dry place to sit.

 

Karina Halle's books