Dreams of Jeannie and Other Stories - Part 13
Library

Part 13

"Yes, and he doesn't care who takes him up on the offer. No thanks."

"Well, one of us has to be nice to him if we want him to drive us to the Sacred Pools of Hana tomorrow. The road through the rain forest is supposed to be challenging, and I don't want Elizabeth's life at risk."

"I'll drive," Faith said. "You can hold Elizabeth and look at the scenery."

"I'll have to think about that," Michael replied. He finished his Danish and started on a pecan bun.

"Eddie," they chorused as the phone rang.

Michael stuffed the bun into his mouth and scooped Elizabeth into her carrier. Faith a.s.sured Eddie they would be right down.

The elevator took them to the lobby, where Eddie-a short, eager twenty-year-old wearing a shirt that clashed with everything-was waiting.

"Aloha," he said, grinning. "Phil said to tell you they're on time. We have to hurry."

"That has to be a lie. Can I go back for the basket of pastries?"

"I told you we should have fed her," Faith snapped.

"No, no," Eddie said. "He means it. Phil promised he'll have her finished before lunch. Okay?"

"Three hours," Michael said to Faith. "We can handle that."

"Elizabeth is on L.A. time, remember. I've never known you to be this callous."

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake, Faith. One morning. For two days' deprivation every six months, she gets to eat shrimp, salmon, and chicken the rest of the year!" Michael turned hastily to Eddie. "Only for snacks, of course. Three meals a day she eats Pretty Kitty cat food."

"Don't worry. Eddie isn't going to turn you in," Faith said. "Are you?"

"No way, wahine," Eddie answered, still grinning. "Driving is my main livelihood. If I talk, n.o.body wants to ride with me anymore."

Faith nodded. "Let's go."

Eddie had parked his Honda right in front of the hotel, in the taxi loading zone. Two taxi drivers glared as Faith and Michael got into the back seat.

Eddie whisked the car away from the cl.u.s.ter of tall, white hotels, over the causeway, and down the narrow road the short distance to the Lahaina harbor. The day was so beautiful that Faith almost began to enjoy herself.

"What's it like living here?" Michael asked.

"Like this," Eddie answered. "Like every morning when I wake up, it's the first day of vacation."

"It must rain," Faith said. "There's a rain forest on the island."

"Yeah, but it only rains for five minutes at a time. Most of the time. Except for hurricanes, and this isn't the season."

"Stop it, Faith," Michael snapped. "No disasters. I am not antic.i.p.ating a disaster on Maui."

Faith glared back.

"This is as close as I can get," Eddie said cheerfully. He had maneuvered through the jaywalking tourists to the pier, but there was no place to pull over. Two large silver trucks were taking up three parking s.p.a.ces apiece. Several horns began to beep the second the Honda's brake lights went on. "I'll find a place to park and meet you on the set. Just yell if you want to make a quick getaway."

"Thanks," Michael said. "I was optimistic enough to schedule a tennis lesson for three and a ma.s.sage for four."

"No problem." Eddie grinned at him.

The beeps became steady as Faith got out and took Elizabeth's carrier so that Michael could join her. They slipped between the trucks to the wooden walkway.

The whalers were smaller and newer than Faith had expected, but then her idea of a whaler was based on John Huston's Moby d.i.c.k. She suspected that these had been used since the nineteenth century.

"I don't understand why they're shooting a cat food commercial on a whaler," Faith said.

"Cats love fish," Michael explained, in a tone that let her know any idiot could figure it out. "Pretty Kitty is for cats with a whale of an appet.i.te."

"Yes, but whalers kill whales. When this commercial airs, they're going to lose all the New Agers and Trekkers and Greens who own cats. Maybe half the cat owners in the country." Faith picked her way carefully over heavy cables that snaked from the trucks to a ship halfway down the pier.

"Maybe half the cat owners in L.A., tops. Besides, it's a tax-deductible week in Maui for anyone from Pretty Kitty, the ad agency, or the production company who wants to visit the shoot. Although the L.A. ad business is so bad I don't think anyone from the agency came." Michael waved at the deck. "Aloha, we're here."

"Oh, good." A young woman in tank top and jeans leaned over the railing. Two days in Maui had given her Southern California tan a bronze glow and turned the peroxide streaks in her stringy brown hair almost white. She waved a clipboard at them. "Phil is setting up for the shot of Elizabeth now. He's lighting her stand-in."

Michael had one foot on the wooden ladder. He stopped so suddenly that Faith hit him with the carrier.

"What stand-in?" he asked.

The woman held a finger to her lips, then beckoned him aboard.

"What stand-in?" Michael asked again, after reaching the deck in two bounds.

Faith clambered up after him, bracing the carrier awkwardly on each rung.

"Mrowr," Elizabeth said.

"Sorry," Faith murmured to the carrier.

"Faith, Jennifer," Michael said as he belatedly reached for the handle.

"Hi, Faith. Hi, Sweetums," Jennifer added to the carrier.

"Mrowr."

Faith nodded a.s.sent.

"Where's Eddie?" Jennifer asked.

"Parking the car. What stand-in?" Michael's voice shot up an octave, and Jennifer shushed him again.

"One of the Pretty Kitty executives is here with his wife, daughter, and cat," she whispered. "The daughter really wants to see her cat in a commercial. I hope Elizabeth is in fine form."

"Of course she is! What an outrage!" Michael snapped.

"Okay, okay," Jennifer said, holding up her hand. "I'm just telling you what's going on."

"We have a contract!" Michael lowered his voice.

"I know. But Pretty Kitty hired the ad agency, and the ad agency hired the production company."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that everyone is being very, very nice. Especially Phil. This is his first network job, you know. I think he'd do anything to get more."

"All right." Michael sighed and turned to Faith. "You see why I didn't feed her. One lousy shot and I'd have to get a job."

"Jennifer! Let's go!" a male voice called.

Faith, Michael, and Elizabeth followed Jennifer aft, stepping between cables when possible.

Cameras, lights, and reflectors were all focused on a very fluffy cat the color of an underripe cantaloupe, wearing a cubic zirconium collar. Her amber eyes darted nervously around the crowd. A red-haired, freckled girl about ten years old was sitting cross-legged beside her, smiling at anyone who would smile back.

"That's Marlene," Jennifer whispered to Michael, drawing the name out to three syllables. "As in Dietrich. The girl's name is Boots. Good luck."

She took the clipboard over to the camera.

Michael shook his head, gaze still fastened on Marlene. "She's pretty, but she's not an actress. We're fine." He looked around, spotting a youth with a three-day growth of beard, whose knees were sticking out of his Levi's. The young man was wearing the only Hawaiian shirt that might have come out of a suitcase, not a store. "Phil! I hope we're not late. I didn't realize we were shooting on MTV video time."

"Hey, Michael, how ya doing?" Phil trotted the four steps that separated them and clapped Michael on the back. "Glad to see the star has arrived." He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Okay! Get ready for a take!" Then he knelt down beside the girl. "Boots, honey. I'm really grateful for your help. And I'm going to remember what a beautiful cat Marlene is, next time we're casting."

Boots looked at him adoringly. She carefully picked up Marlene, then winced when the nervous cat sank bare claws into her naked shoulder.

Michael lifted Elizabeth from the carrier and placed her down on the crossed pieces of silver tape marking the spot Marlene had vacated. Elizabeth stretched, surveyed the a.s.sembled group, winked one blue eye at the cameraman, and settled onto her haunches, pearly tail falling naturally into place.

"Here." Someone thrust a crystal dish heaped with Pretty Kitty into Michael's hand. He put it down on another taped mark to Elizabeth's right.

"Roll the tape!" Phil called.

"Rolling!"

"Slate the camera!"

"Slated. Take one."

"Action!"

"Discover the food," Michael whispered.

Elizabeth turned toward the dish. Her eyes widened dramatically. She approached the dish and sniffed, then looked back toward Michael.

"That's right, baby, time to eat," he whispered.

Elizabeth sniffed again. She shook her head. Straightening up, she made a graceful pirouette and overturned the dish with one kick from her left hind leg.

"Cut!" Phil called.

"Oh my G.o.d," Michael moaned.

Faith tugged his arm. "There's something wrong with the food."

"What?"

"Something wrong, d.a.m.n it, think!"

"There's something wrong with the food!" Michael yelled.

"What do you mean, son?"

Michael discovered he was standing next to a tall, florid man still decorated with a fading airport lei. Red hair and freckles marked him as Boots's father, even if he wasn't old enough to be Michael's. He was glaring down menacingly.

"I mean sabotage!" Michael gasped. "It can't be Pretty Kitty."

"Come on, Michael." Phil clapped him on the shoulder again. Michael was starting to feel hemmed in. "We'll try another take. If it'll make you happy, we'll even open a new can."

"Where's Elizabeth?" Faith had squeezed between the men to the overturned dish. Elizabeth was nowhere in sight.

"Elizabeth!" Michael dropped to his knees, to search for her at her own level.

"Hey, guys, anybody seen the cat?" Phil asked.

The murmurs from the crew were all negative.

"Could she have jumped overboard?" The question came from a short, dark-haired woman in a muumuu draped with a fading lei that matched the one Boots's father was wearing.

"Absolutely not!" Michael snapped. Still, he crawled to the edge of the deck and checked the ocean. The gentle, blue waves were unbroken. "Elizabeth!"

His stomach churned, and he began gasping for breath.

"All right! That's enough!" Faith was standing on Elizabeth's mark. The lights had been turned off, but the reflectors focused enough sunlight to create a glow around her shins. Her arms were raised, palms out, like an evangelist. Everyone quieted down and stared. She was glad she hadn't worn a muumuu. The way the long sleeves of her white overblouse fell back past her elbows made a more dramatic effect. "I have to ask one question. You!" Her right hand swooped down, index finger pointing to Boots's father. "Are you driving a rental car?"

"Why, yes." His face became even more florid.

"Thank you." Both palms out again, Faith looked at each silent face in front of her. "I know who took Elizabeth. And I know who sprayed the ant poison on the Pretty Kitty." She waited for the gasps to subside. "We will all turn toward the railing, eyes shut, while I count to thirty. During that time, I expect Elizabeth to reappear on her mark. Otherwise, the person responsible will be looking at both civil and criminal charges. Which will not be good for that person's livelihood. Now! Toward the railing. One! Two!"

Faith had reached twenty-seven by the time she heard the soft Mrowr and felt Elizabeth rub against her leg.

"Elizabeth!" Michael cried.

"Thank you all," Faith said, bowing, as the crew applauded.

"Let's get ready for the next take!" Phil shouted. "New can of cat food. Clean up the mess from the old one!"

"I'd like to fix the dish," Faith said.