Kaimoana Tales, William 3

It was a week before they heard back from the film company people. The news, when it finally arrived, was a great relief to everybody.

William said, over and over, that he didn’t care. He knew that he wouldn’t get the part and he didn’t care anyway. That didn’t stop him from asking if they’d heard anything though – every hour of the day.

His parents didn’t want to be too discouraging, but they didn’t want him getting his hopes up too much either. He was going to be crushed if he missed out. Even his sister, who adored her little brother and was always very patient with him, was tired of the drama. William was not easy to live with.

“I’m not sure if he’s an actor, but if it’s a drama-queen they want, he’ll have it for sure.”

Paul was delighted to see the much-awaited email finally arrive. He opened and scanned it, and then called William in to read it for himself. William wanted him to just tell him – was it yes or no? But Paul refused.

“No, Son. You started this and you can finish it. Read the email.”

He stood and stared at the monitor, nervous for a start, until a huge grin spread across his face and he screamed. “YES!!! I got it. I got it. I bloody got it! Choice!”

He rushed out to tell his mother and Emmy. They already knew, they’d heard the scream. He was walking on air for days afterwards. That still didn’t make him easy to live with.

Joyce Skelton, the Executive Producer’s Assistant, arrived on the Thursday and came to speak with them all.

“Congratulations, William. I’m delighted for you and I’m sure you’ll do well. Actually, I think that it may have been my vote that tipped the balance. Joe, the script-writer, was adamant that he wanted a Maori boy. The lead character’s name was Hemi, which is Maori for George. I told him to change the blessed name then! So, he did. The second boy will be Hemi and the lead will be William.”

“Yeah! It will. Thanks, Ms. Skelton, but what’s the boy called?

“I told you. You will be the leading boy and his name is William.”

“I am William. Oh, I see! Choice. I should be able to remember that then.”

“I’m sure you will. There’s no point in making up a new name for you, you already fit the one you’ve got.”

Joyce stayed a couple of hours, talking arrangements. Everybody signed the contracts, including William, but that was just for show. He was only 10 so he wasn’t legally responsible for anything he signed. They had to call Mrs. Ritchie in, from next door, to sign as a witness. Emmy wanted to sign, but couldn’t. She was only 12 and she was family anyway.

Before she left, Joyce gave them a couple of copies of the script, with a warning that it was not finalized and this was just a working draft and subject to change. She also gave them air-tickets for William and a parent to fly up to Auckland, on Saturday morning, to meet the cast and crew and to sit in on some meetings. She would be there to meet them at the airport.

The parents decided that Paul should be the one to go. They’d be back Sunday night and he didn’t work weekends anyway.

Joyce met them at Auckland Airport, as promised, and she drove them in to the city to check into their hotel, the ‘Harvard”. The meetings were, conveniently, to be held in the Harvard’s conference room, they had it for the weekend.

Paul signed in, and then they took their bags up to their shared room. William had, yet another, nervous pee, and then they went up to the conference room. Joyce greeted them there, and handed them over to her assistant, Bruce Grenville. (‘The Assistant’s Assistant?’) Paul decided that he’d have to watch this guy carefully. He seemed pleasant enough, but he was terribly effeminate.

William was fascinated by him. He knew that he was different, but he didn’t know why. William was a bit green really; he was a bright boy, but he was only 10 years old.

Bruce introduced them first to “God” – the Director, and then they went around the room meeting all the others. There was an awful lot of them, a man, or a woman, for every job imaginable. No wonder movies were so expensive to make. The hotel wouldn’t be cheap either. It was a class joint, top of the range.

Finally, they got to meet the other 2 boys who were also being ushered around the room. The 3rd boy, who wouldn’t be around for long, was named Stephen Stephenson; he was there with his mother. William wondered what his father’s name was? Surely not Stephen, that would be just too dorky!

The 2nd boy, who wouldn’t be around for much longer, was a Maori boy, Cody Pihema. He had dark hair and dark skin, of course. He also had a huge, friendly smile. William liked the look of him, they could be friends.

“So you’re the rotten bugger who pinched my part?” Cody grinned and offered a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Cody. Was it your part?”

“Nah, not really. I didn’t even want it. It was all Uncle’s idea; he wanted me in the role.”

“Your Uncle?”

“Yeah, Uncle Joe – Joe Pihema, he’s the scriptwriter and he reckons that it was written for me. She’s right, William. Don’t worry about it. I really didn’t want it and I haven’t got the time anyway. I’m already in a TV series.”

“Really? Wow! What channel? I don’t think I’ve seen you.”

“Probably not. I’m in ‘Porero’, that’s the Saturday morning kids’ programme on Maori TV. We don’t have a huge audience because it’s up against ‘What Now’, on TV2 and that’s way more popular. I act in some of the sketches, but mostly I just sing and dance and wiggle my butt and look cute for the cameraman.”

“For the cameraman?”

“Yeah, of course. You’ve gotta play up to the cameraman. Once he’s got a crush on you, you’ve got it made and you get all the best shots and lots of time on the screen.”

“The cameraman’s got a crush on you? Is the cameraman a lady?”

“No, he’s a guy of course. He’s an old perv, which is great because they’re the easiest to charm.”

William was not sure what he thought about that. It seemed that there was more to this business than Mrs. Crase had told them about in her drama classes at Harwood Primary School. Well, he’d live and learn. He looked around the room to see where his dad was.

“Looking for your escort? How old are you anyway, William?”

“Ten. I’m ten. How old are you?”

“Yeah, you’re 10 in the movie, we all are, but how old are you really?”

“I’m really 10. aren’t you?”

“Nah. I’m 12, nearly 13 and going on 30. Who are you here with?”

“I came with my dad. That’s him over there. He’s a teacher in my school too.”

“Your dad’s your teacher? Bummer! Speaking of bummers, that’s my carer over there, my pervy cousin, Rangi.”

“Is your cousin a perv?”

“Is the pope a catholic? Of course he is! They’ve got me sharing a room with him too, so I might have trouble sitting comfortably tomorrow.”

“Why might you? Oh. Are you going to let him do that stuff to you?”

“Well, yeah! He always does. I don’t mind, I love it! Make the most of being young and beautiful, William. It doesn’t last forever. I’ve gotta go – Joyce wants me. See you soon.”

William watched Cody walk away, through the crowded room, and he felt like he was very young. He had a lot to learn. Did he want to learn? Well, yeah, maybe. Cody seemed to have things sorted, and that was all something that he knew nothing about.

They were there in the same room for the rest of the day and well into the evening, apart from meals in the dining room. William didn’t eat much, he was way too excited and, besides, he’d been grazing all day on the snack-trays in the conference room.

When they talked with the costume lady, as Paul had feared, she was talking about high-heeled boots and bell-bottom trousers.

“I think that, with your blond-hair and green eyes, you’d suit green. We’ll put you in green and gold clothes.”

“Green?” William protested. “Can’t I have red? I like red clothes – red and black.”

“He does,” Paul agreed. “Red and black are his definite favourite colours.”

“No, I can’t see it.” She shook her head dramatically. “Our story is set in the 1970’s. Clothes were very bright and colourful then, garish in fact, but, red and black? I’ll tell you what – how about we put you in red pants? Yes, that would work. Tight-fitting bright red jeans, with flares. Your sandals could be black. You could have a shiny green shirt with a gold choker around your slender neck. I like the picture – we’ll do that.”

Paul smiled to himself. William had a way of getting what he wanted.

“A choker? Is that like a necklace? Did boys wear Jewellery back then?”

“Sweetheart, everybody did. You’ve heard of ‘bling’? They invented bling in the 70’s.”

It was a long day; it was after 11pm when they finished. William was looking forward to bed, it was way past his usual bedtime, but he still had trouble getting to sleep. He wasn’t used to sharing a room with his father and the snoring and farting kept him awake for hours

The room stunk like a brewery too. His dad had had far too many of the free drinks provided. It was all right for him, he slept like a rock. William didn’t.

He lay, wide-awake, in the unfamiliar bed and wondered what Cody and his cousin were doing in their room? Did he want to know? Yeah, he did! Maybe Cody would tell him some more? It was good that they weren’t making a horror-movie, and red jeans would be cool, and – he slept.