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OFPMFP: Lights! Camera! Squawk! [1]
['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.']
Date: 2025-02-14
This story started life as an assignment in a course on writing for children and teenagers. It is quite family-friendly.
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“That prima donna will ruin everything,” Arthur Harris fumed to himself. This was the seventh take for this scene, and it was falling apart again. Papá, the parrot he had trained for a month to play three brief scenes in the film, knew his business perfectly. At Arthur’s hand signal, he flew toward his designated landing spot. But the actress ducked away again, putting up a hand, and he veered off, finding a chair to land on instead. “Chica loca!” he scolded, raising his wings.
Miss Hayward did not speak Spanish, but she glared at the bird, agitating him further.
“Cut,” ordered the director wearily. “Take the bird out, Arthur, and quiet him. We’ll go to Scene 54.”
Jeanette threw herself on a sofa in a temper. “That hideous beast! Why must I play a scene with a bird? He’ll never get it right.”
“Because it’s in the script, Miss Hayward. The one you signed a contract to act. Focus on your own blocking.” The director was losing patience.
“Chica fea!” added Papá as Arthur hurried out the exit, to get out of earshot. He needed this contract and the goodwill of the film company to get into a real business of his own, training animals. Until now, his menagerie had only worked with his high school drama club and a summer repertory company.
Marcy Curtis, Jeanette’s stunt woman, met him outside the door, trying to hide her giggles. “Did I just hear him call her ugly?”
“Well, she called him hideous. Tit for tat.”
“She is such an idiot. You’re a beautiful bird, yes you are,” Marcy cooed. “Does she get on your nerves? She does for the rest of us too.”
“What has she got against birds, anyway? “
“I think she’s really afraid of all animals. Don’t be too hard on her, Arthur.”
“All right, but she’s the one spoiling the scenes, not him. The only one we’ve shot successfully so far was the one where she didn’t have to touch or come close to him. I almost wish I had trained Loro instead. He’s not as bright but he is much more even-tempered.”
The flattery had worked on Papá. And he heard Arthur talking about Loro. He wasn’t going to let his cage mate get his rewards. “Earn a snack?”
“Sure, let’s go practice in the park. You need to hit your action marks no matter what the actors do. Show them how it’s done. Right? I’ve got a pocket full of nuts for you to earn.”
Outside, the hot air pressed heavily on Arthur. The fitful breeze puffed at him from every direction. He crossed the boulevard to a shady park by the lake.
Choosing a bench, he placed a hand on its back and held the bird to look at it. “Mark!” he repeated twice. Then he took his parrot about 20 feet away to a branch on a tree. He got out a pistachio. “Mark,” he said again, and stood a few feet away with his hand raised. Papá watched for the signal, and flew exactly to the spot, earning the nut. On the next repetition, Arthur stood closer to the bench, and made a sudden movement as the parrot flew by. Papá veered a little but landed on the bench, at least. “No nut. Mark!” The next try was better, and Papá got another nut. They kept working.
The little lake in its circle of hills shimmered in the steaming heat. The hot wind blew stronger. Then, suddenly, it blew cold.
Arthur looked up, startled, at the clouds rapidly building over the lake. The sunlight was already gone. He shouted for his bird, calling himself a few things meanwhile for forgetting this area’s unpredictable weather. His car was parked at the studio and Papá was deathly afraid of thunderstorms.
At the first lightning flash, Papá went wild. Arthur tried to catch and hold the bird close, but Papá was too terrified to appreciate the protection. He clawed and struggled his way free, darting off into the storm and the woods.
The parrot did not allow himself to be captured until he was chilled and exhausted. Arthur wasted no time explaining at the studio but drove straight to the vet. He left Papá there, hoping that prompt treatment could prevent fatal pneumonia.
His heavy heart was not lifted by the reaction back at the studio. To his relief, the director cut off the complaints and groans and took him to his office.
“All right, Mr. Harris, what can be done about it?” he asked.
Arthur breathed easier and tried to match the director’s businesslike attitude. “I have another parrot I can teach the remaining two scenes. He’s calmer and may get along better with Miss Hayward.”
“We have only a week of shooting left, you know. If we run over, it costs us plenty,” the director cautioned him.
“I’ll have him here in three days, ready,” Arthur promised. That would mean spending every waking moment teaching Loro, but he was determined to fulfill this contract on time.
Three days later, Loro knew his parts, just barely. At the studio, Arthur introduced him to Jeanette, who had been sternly lectured by the director. She bit her lip and extended her hand to the bird.
At Arthur’s command, Loro stepped to her arm and chirped, “Hello, pretty lady.” Unfortunately he got TOO friendly, moving on up her arm. Jeanette shrieked and batted the bird away, his claws scratching her as he flapped for balance. Arthur groaned as Jeanette fled in tears.
“I hoped they would practice the scenes together,” he mourned.
“Why don’t I practice with him?” offered Marcy. “I have time between my shots.”
“Thank you, Miss Curtis, that is very helpful of you.” The director looked relieved that something, at least, might go as planned today!
When made up as Jeanette’s stand-in, Marcy resembled her amazingly. Her suggestion would certainly make it easier for Loro to adjust to taking his cues from the actress instead of his trainer.
“Thanks, Marcy,” Arthur said. “That would help a lot.”
Marcy proved to be a competent actress herself. Arthur suppressed his urge to compare Jeanette unfavorably to her, and simply complimented the stunt woman.
“Why didn’t you choose acting instead of the dangerous stunt work?”
Marcy shrugged. “I always loved athletics, even dangerous sports. I like my own work best.”
In three runs-through the scenes were perfect. An idea was also stirring in Arthur’s brain. “All your scenes are distance shots. What would they do if a scene needed Jeanette’s acting and voice, but was too dangerous for her?” he asked.
“That rarely happens with female parts,” she mused. “If it did, I suppose they would have me play it and dub in the sound track with her voice.”
She stared at his broadening grin. “Arthur, you’re not thinking….”
“Why not? She thinks the birds are dangerous, doesn’t she?”
“You may have a good idea, there, Mister Harris.” They hadn’t seen the director approach. “Let’s put it to the crew.”
Jeanette admitted she would be relieved to be replaced in the physical scenes, and willingly headed to the sound booth to record her lines. The cameraman adjusted a few angles to improve the illusion that the same woman was acting. Shooting with Marcy went off flawlessly, and Loro got a lot of nuts and seeds from the happy crew.
To top the day, the vet called to report that Papá would recover just fine. Outside, Arthur whispered to Loro as the parrot nibbled his lips gently, “Bird, we’re headed for the big time!”
[END]
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