Futureproof by N Frank Daniels

Author:N Frank Daniels [Daniels, N Frank]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9780061656835
Publisher: lulu.com
Published: 2006-01-31T00:00:00+00:00

TRANSMISSION 25:

hollywood leads to girls and hard drugs

July

For the next two weeks we’re doing night shoots on the film. We are instructed to arrive on the set at dusk since we’ll be “working” until 3 or 4 a.m. every night. On the second night Corey comes down to the set. He has pretty much dropped from sight ever since he started dating this girl Janine. She is actually an old friend of Andie’s. They both attended the same summer camp for troubled girls back when they were fourteen or fifteen. Like Andie, Janine has mental issues. Corey loves her, though. He says that she helps him stay straight. He rarely comes by Andie’s anymore because he says all we ever do over there is get high. I don’t know what he’s expecting us to do at Andersonville. It’s not any different on the set. I don’t tell him that though.

We sneak inside one of the bigger shebangs, where Jonas rolls a fat joint (he’s a pro now). Corey skips on it the first three times it goes around. On the fourth pass he hits it and immediately steps out of the tent, walks around it (we can see his circling shadow), then comes back just in time to hit it again. He mutters that he’ll see me around and disappears.

When we run into him later he’s tripping so hard that he thinks the cardboard cutouts are real people.

“They won’t stop following me around,” he says. “Everywhere I go I see this same guy. He has no neck. He has no fucking neck! His eyes follow me everywhere and when I run to a different area he’s already there.”

“He’s like Pepe Le Pew,” I say, for fun.

Corey laughs and Splinter asks where he got the Acid.

“It’s not Acid, man,” Corey says. “It’s fucking mescaline. It’s so pure I can feel the blood in my veins.”

“Is that a good thing?” Splinter asks.

“Yes.”

Corey pulls out a cigarette cellophane with five tiny pellets in the bottom.

“That’s mescaline?”

“It looks small, but this is seriously the cleanest high I’ve ever had. It’s so fucking pure and good.”

“What happened to wanting to stay clean and the straight and narrow and all that shit?”

He puts his finger to his lips. “Shhhhh.”

“Where’d you get that stuff, Corey?”

“Some guy. I don’t know who. I can’t remember, actually.”

He hands me the cellophane.

Within thirty minutes we’re all tripping. Hard. We edge closer to the action. Despite the multiple takes and the dialogue repeated ad infinitum, the shit actually seems real. The assistant directors corral all the extras together and tell us to prepare for some simulated fighting. The “bad” prisoners are going to lead an assault against a band of “good” prisoners who have been attempting to curtail the bad guys’ strong-arm tactics. Or maybe the other way around.

Bloody conflict ensues. Rubber clubs and knives are used. But even after the director yells “Action!” none of us can stop laughing long enough to appear as though we’re angry and ready to kill for our freedom or beliefs or whatever.

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