First of two parts
THOM is a theater major. His father doesn’t approve. He’s a businessman, Thom’s father. He only cares about making money. Thom shows his father the sales figures for “Wicked.” “It made more than one billion on Broadway,” Thom says.
“You’re not on Broadway now, are you?” Thom’s father says. “Get into a production. One that’s making money.” He is smoking a cigar, one of his few vices.
“But I’m studying.”
“You think I got this mansion by studying? Two years of this already. Enough,” Thom’s father says. “You have six months. Get into a production that’s making money. Or pay for your own tuition.” Thom’s father is a businessman. He buys assets, not liabilities. He has holes in his socks and money in the bank.
Thom, too, has holes in his socks, but no money in the bank. He doesn’t seem to have any acting talent, either. He has admitted that to himself. But he loves the theater. He loves acting. He loves the pageantry and the bright lights. College is not so bad, either. The drinks and the dancing, the sex. Thom wants to go on being a theater major. He’s not going to pay for his own tuition.
Thom loves his classmates. Men and women, they’re all so open. Thom is open to anything. He’s all about late-night drives and scouring local bars. Not all of his classmates are pretty, but they’re all very fun. Especially Leo, the blue-eyed blonde. He’s old, and his hair is curly, and he has as much talent as Thom. Every scene Leo acts out, be it comic or tragic, he curls his hands into fists, closes his eyes and shouts to the heavens. “Stella! Stella!” he shouts. “To be or not to be!” he shouts. “I’ll not budge an inch!” he shouts.
Thom hangs out with Leo, but not all the time. They drink together, but don’t talk about much except acting. Leo wants to be a director. He brings his copy of Sculpting Time with him all the time. Thom doesn’t want to exploit Leo or trick him out of his money. (Leo has a lot of money, he’s always paying for their drinks.) So Thom does his research before making his pitch. It’s all about mobile, these days. The internet. Cellphones. Tablets. YouTube. Likes. Subscription. Retention time. Ad revenues. He’ll placate his father and help fulfill Leo’s dreams. (And not pay for his own tuition.)
They’ve just finished class when Thom makes his pitch. “Let’s make a YouTube video,” he says.
“I was about to say the same thing!” Leo shouts, palms open, eyes closed. “Zombie apocalypse!”
“Yes, exactly.” Thom’s pitch is a parody of Tarantino, but who cares? “You’ll direct, I’ll act! We can shoot around the campus —”
“I have the perfect set, it’s just a few miles from here.” Leo clasps Thom’s hands. “Care for a drive? I have the perfect location, and all it will cost…is a smile.”
Thom smiles. He doesn’t have a car. It’s great because no one can ask him to drive for them. Leo’s car is a Prius. It’s red. Its headlights looks like some insect’s eyes. It should have been green to look like a locust.
Leo drives real slow. Grandmas in trucks honk at them. Thom doesn’t care. He’s already planning his Twitter campaign. He has a ton of Instagram followers, more than a hundred. That’ll be useful. He has to study up on Facebook and Snapchat, though. He’ll watch a video about marketing on those platforms.
I should make a making-of, he thinks. He turns to Leo. “What’s our series called?”
“Series?” Leo asks. “Movie!” He caresses a bead necklace tied to his rearview mirror.
“Yes, movie,” Thom says. He can chop it up in editing and sell it as a series. “What’s our movie called?”
Leo lets go of the steering wheel and makes a rainbow gesture. “Zombie Park,” he says. The car veers to the left.
“I like it,” Thom says, and he isn’t lying. Some of their classmates laugh at Leo. They say he’s only good for the drinks. They don’t want to do scenes with him, they make obvious excuses. Thom knows Leo. The man is no fool. The series title alone proves that. Thom is no fool, either. He’s a theater major. He knows his human beings.
Leo takes Thom to an abandoned amusement park. Its banners are red-white stripes and dust. From afar Thom sees the ferris wheel. There are figures inside, probably mannequins. One last prank by the clowns before it all closed down? A little bit closer and he sees the name: “A Way A Love Amusement Park.” Thom is not one to criticize. He loves his puns.
Leo parks right in front of the entrance. The old man is limber, skipping over the turnstile. Thom tries it, falls midway. Luckily, Leo catches him. “Be careful now, my friend. This place is haunted.”
Thom smiles. The place is wonderful. Everything is either torn down, bent or covered in rags. This place has atmosphere. He can easily do multiple series with Leo. Even better, they can throws parties here. He’ll bring the music, everybody else will bring the drinks. He should pitch that to Leo next. A series about college people drinking. People will love it.
Leo points out his favorite spots. He’s been here before, many times it seems. Back when the park was a park. Back when people paid to get in. “Over there, I bought my cotton candy. Over there, see, that’s the Tunnel of Love.” He elbows Thom. “You know what I’m talking about.”
It is very dark when they get back to the car. The moon is bright, though, and they have cellphones. “Well, what do you think?” Leo asks as they drive away.
“I love it,” Thom says. He remembers his father, always spouting nonsense about business and life. He doesn’t want to be a killjoy, but he asks the question anyway. “Is it safe to film there?”
“Yes, yes, yes of course. I cleared it with the police, long before we talked. You think I’ve been waiting for you to give me a project? I have a dozen projects in my head.” He puts a finger on his temple. “But I like you. You’re a nice person. So instead of doing something solo, I do this project with you.” He puts his fist on his heart. “Together, we grow. Together, we’re strong.” There is an actual tear going down Leo’s cheek. “Partners?” He offers Thom his hand.
“Partners,” Thom says, one hand shaking Leo’s, another holding the wheel.
“We start shooting in one week.”
They start shooting in one month.
Leo says something about “freeing up finances” and disappears. He’s been dropped from the class by the time he returns. “Such a shame,” Leo tells Thom. He’s a green-eyed brunette now. “Macbeth! I would love to have been part of that!”
Thom doesn’t listen. He wants to concentrate on the project. When Leo disappeared, he thought “Zombie Park” was dead forever. He kept rejecting his father’s calls, knowing the man was going to ask him for updates. “Now call, you bastard,” Thom thinks. “I’m at the set, what’s up?” he imagines himself telling his father.
Leo shows him the equipment. It’s in the trunk of his car. He has three cameras, a key light and a back light. At the back seat of the car is a drum the size of Thom’s torso. “What’s this?” he asks.
“It’s the goo machine,” Leo says. “It makes the zombies. Great idea, huh?”
Thom nods. While Leo was gone, all he did was write. He was supposed to get a writer, but the three people who agreed to join their project were all actors. Plus, they all dropped out when they got cast in Macbeth. The writing and rewriting kept thoughts about his father and Leo out of his mind.
This is the plot of their series: Thom is the last man on Earth. He is running from zombies. He lives in the abandoned amusement park, its wall are enough to keep the monsters out. One day Leo arrives. Thom lets him in, even though he looks crazy, because Thom is just that lonely. It turns out that Leo is crazy, and opens the gates for the zombies to come in. The end.
“Great story!” Leo says, pretending to the read the script while driving. “We’ll use the goo, yes? I paid good money for it. Goo money!”
Thom laughs. He’s a sucker for puns.
It’s noon when they arrive at the amusement park. Thom sets up the lights. He doesn’t dare admit he doesn’t know if they need it or not. Leo retrieves a generator from his trunk. There are a lot of things there, it seems, that Thom didn’t see. Leo sets up the cameras, all with matching tripods. The last things he brings out are glasses and a bottle of champagne. “To our success!” he says. The cork barely misses Thom’s eyes.
They finish the entire bottle and are about to shoot when Thom sees the first of the white people.
He is a tall man, fat. His belly looks like the trunk of a Volkswagen. He shuffles instead of walks. He wears a gray jacket, dusty like the rest of the park. Thom sees him emerging from the back of what used to be a banana stand.
“Hey,” Thom says. “Hey, this is private property!” He doesn’t know why he says that. Anyway, the white man doesn’t care. He keeps shuffling toward Thom and Leo, groaning as he goes.
“Is he drunk?” Thom asks Leo, who he’s sure is drunk.
Leo cracks his fingers, adjusts his wig. “I’ll get rid of him.” He meets the white man midway. “Hey… buddy…” Leo staggers, which is lucky, because the white man lunges at him, mouth wide open. Leo shakes his head, backs away.
The white man groans and lunges again, knocking Leo down. “Thom! Thom!” Leo shouts.
Thom grabs a tripod and runs to Leo. When he gets to his friend he realizes he doesn’t know what to do. He drops the tripod and grabs Leo up. “Hey you!” he shouts at the white man.
“This is private property!” the white man shouts. “It’s our property!” He whistles, and from all around them emerge white people of all sizes and shapes. There are men and women and children. They’re all wearing the same gray jackets. The white man who attacked Leo bares his fangs. “Get out of here, or I swear I’ll bite your neck off!”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Leo shouts at Thom’s ear. “I’ll get rid of them.”
Thom almost cries. They carry their equipment back to the car. The white people watch them. Blue eyes, green eyes, they follow their every step.
“Did we drink the goo instead of the champagne?” Thom asks himself. He walks away from the car, where Leo is caressing the bead necklace tied to his rearview mirror. He looks at the amusement park. There are people at the top pod of the ferris wheel. White people!
“Who are these people? What the hell are they doing here? Are they poor? Are they slumming it out? Are they insane?” He is talking to himself now, making wild gestures. First his father threatens him, and then Leo disappears. And now this. This! All he wants is to drink and act. The former more than the latter.
He’s never seen so many white people in one place. It doesn’t feel like the movies at all. These people are scary. Maybe it’s because they look so poor? Or because they are poor, they give off the vibe. Not that Thom thinks low of the poor. The poor aren’t evil. The poor aren’t poor because they want to be poor. And the poor aren’t scary. No, it’s not because they’re poor that those people frighten him. And it’s not even because they’re white. It’s because they’re so many. Thom, he dislikes the mob. It’s a good thing he’s no good as an actor, otherwise he wouldn’t know what to do if he’s forced to perform in front of a crowd. He may be a theater major, but he prefers the camera to the stage.
Maybe he should shift to film?
To be concluded next Sunday
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