IceBerg - 19. Chapter 19

The next month was a blur. It’s a common cliché, but it really was for me. I was still scriptwriting, just barely, I was going to have to quit it soon to focus on this project.

This was supposed to be it.

My work, not only be appreciated, but noticed.

I felt like I was under water and I had to guess how to swim, that I should have known how to swim, and I was stupid for struggling. Sometimes I would wake up and stare at my hands, wondering if I was fading away, that this wasn’t the real me. That everything happening had to be in my head because it was simply too good to be happening. Too unrealistic.

Jake got louder, arguing good points. That this could be a flop and I would be ruined. That this was my only chance and if it didn’t work, I was done forever. That I was actually in ward and this was all a delusion that I couldn’t get away from. In a wheelchair, taped up.

I tried to focus on introducing Oli and Sharon, but I barely had time to socialise. When I was Alex, I could hear him talking but there was buzz in my head that I couldn’t get away from. He would ask about me seeing the doctors and I would tell him I would soon.

He was worrying about me and I hated that. I needed to act normal, pretend to be normal. Just act like a regular guy with a brain that actually worked. That I was just another writer and that was it.

***
Grant bent down and reached into his briefcase he had placed on the table, ‘Right guys and gals, welcome to our first day of auditions. Now I will give each of you a list of actors and actresses coming in and what they have auditioned for.’ He began giving out papers. There was so much paper on the desk. Claire had a laptop out and Charlie had a tablet out.

‘You can have two coffee breaks, maybe three, we have forty people to see today,’ said Grant.

Fortyt?!

‘When is the first audition starting?’ asked Claire, skimming though the papers and glancing at her laptop.

‘Well, I thought we would have a coffee break first, get our drinks and food ready,’ Grant smiled. ‘Ten minutes.’

‘With forty auditions, think we will need it,’ Charlie muttered, getting up. ‘Anyone want anything?’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Claire stood up.

‘I’m good,’ I smiled.

Charlie smirked and went to open his mouth but shut it.

‘Your eye is healing well,’ commented Piper.

‘What? Oh,’ he replied, shaking his head, ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ He let out a laugh. ‘I almost forgot about it!’

Piper let out a short chuckle. Charlie and Claire looked at each other and walked towards each other. They held hands and went out the room.

‘She is charming and funny, and I thought that would be enough.’

‘Alex looks so angry. Angry enough to punch him. Again, of course Alex punched Charlie, do the maths, stupid,’ sneered Jake.

I scratched my pen at the paper hard. I had not heard of any of these actors. But maybe they were new or maybe actors who hadn’t broken into the scene yet. So, we were all new to this.

‘Coffee is here,’ Charlie came through and placed a tray of cups on the table. I blinked. That was quick.

‘Fantastic,’ Piper smiled back, picking it up. She turned to Grant, ‘Tim Hound is auditioning again? I can see him as Sam in a way.’

‘Maybe,’ Grant smiled back, picking up his own drink.

‘Tim Hound?’ smiled Claire, coming through the door. ‘I heard he has been auditioning for a while.’

‘He is a great guy,’ Piper replied. ‘But someone is always better.’

‘Perhaps today is the day the underdog wins,’ I said.

‘But it’s boring when the underdog wins,’ teased Charlie.

Piper, not looking up from her list, added, ‘I have to go with Nathanial on this one I am afraid, Charlie. Everyone always loves an underdog. It is unwritten law.’

Charlie shrugged, ‘I guess that is a fair enough point.’

The room was a backhanded slap of silence. We all looked down at our papers, not sure what else to say. Or maybe I thought it was awkward. Claire just poked Charlie and they both laughed. I guess she was oblivious to it. Or maybe I was overthinking.

I just wished my mind had a pause button, just for at least a day.

‘Right,’ Grant made everyone look up. He pointed at his watch, ‘It’s twelve. Our auditioning starts now.’

‘Okay,’ nodded Claire, standing up. ‘I will go do the calls. They are all in the backroom.’

‘Bye, beautiful,’ Charlie smiled and kissed her cheek.

The first girl came in, young fresh faced, freckled and very thin. Ah.

She introduced herself and blurted out how she loves the character she was performing. Really hyping it up.

I had forgotten this was like an interview. I almost frowned, she was probably pretending she liked it. She had to. I mean I said I ‘loved’ serving people in my last job interview. This was weird, this was the other way around. I didn’t know what to say to her.

Grabbing my pen, I doodled notes. I didn’t look up, but I could hear her voice dip a little, the nerves showing. Had I made her this nervous? Now I felt nervous. This was probably why underdogs like me were not up for dominating roles.

Okay, okay, she had started to perform. I sat and listened. This was my role.

‘Try harder,’ hissed Jake. ‘Work harder. Or everything will stop being real. Not real. Real. Not real.’

‘Failure.’

                                                       ***

‘Thank you,’ Grant called out to the actor.

I blinked.

Damn, I completely zoned out. Who was that? Which number of auditions were we at now? They didn’t really strike me at all.

Claire whistled, ‘You’d think for a good-looking man, he’d be a good actor.’

‘Hey,’ Charlie frowned, as she giggled and kissed him on the cheek.

‘I completely agree with Claire, honey, Brad was just not getting the cut,’ Piper began a little laugh.

Her laughter turned to coughing, harsh loud gagging coughing, Grant bent down and placed a big black bag on the table, reaching for out quick for an inhaler. He brought it to her and rubbed her back as she used it.

The rest of us were looking out, our hands empty, wanting to do something but we looked on instead, useless.

‘Sorry about that,’ Piper croaked, clearing her voice, taking some inhales.

‘Do you want me to get you anything, Piper?’ Claire stood up.

‘Some water, please,’ Grant smiled at her.

He whispered into Piper’s ear, and she shook her head vigorously, putting her inhaler down.

‘Wow,’ Charlie said, placing his hands forward. ‘I had no idea the physical effects of what good looking men do to you, Piper.’

I couldn’t help but smile at that and neither could Piper.

She rolled her eyes at him, ‘Don’t start me again.’

‘Here you go,’ Claire hurried over and placed the plastic cup of clear water in front of Piper. She picked it up and had small sips.

Grant nodded and said to Claire, ‘Bring the next … Oh, Tim is next.’

‘Yes,’ Piper’s face lit up.

‘The underdog,’ I brightened too.

‘Well, he better be good,’ commented Charlie, shuffling his papers.

I smiled, taking Tim in as Claire welcomed him in the room. Wow. He was so average looking, round fluffy brown hair, mole marks on his cheek, a slight round face, thick jumper, a great smile. I loved him already. He was my main character, he was what I pictured, my main character, Sam, to look like.

                                                          ***

While Claire and Charlie argued over the second to last actor, I felt my phone buzz. Glancing down into my pocket, I checked it. I should have turned it off for that day.

Besides, who would call me?

Dad?

I frowned. A text came through. He never texted me.

I stood up, ‘Excuse me for a few minutes. Just carry on without me.’

‘Nathanial,’ Charlie almost stood up.

‘We can wait,’ Grant said.

‘No, no,’ I shook my head, dialling my dad back.

I pushed the back door of the room open with my other hand, I called over my shoulder, ‘I need to make this call. Carry on without me. I trust your judgments.’

I closed the door, standing in the hallway, hearing the buzz ring through.

It clicked and I said, ‘Hey Dad, everything okay?’

I could hear him clear his voice, ‘Hi, son.’

He cleared his throat again and I frowned.

‘Everything okay?’

‘Are you busy? I mean, um,’ his voice sounded hoarse, rough.

My stomach turned. I leaned against the wall. ‘No. It’s fine.’

‘Good, good,’ the silence was static. ‘I, um, I got, ah, um.’

A metal knot was tying in my stomach, reaching up clawing at my throat.

‘Dad?’

‘I’m at the hospital at the moment.’

‘Is everything okay?’

Of course, it wasn’t okay. I could feel my jaw shaking.

‘Nathanial, I,’ his voice was so hoarse, so painful and rough. ‘Your mum.’

There was silence, sharp silence. I didn’t say a word.

I closed my eyes.

I could see my mum leave my front door on my birthday, waving at me with dad trying to ushering her into the car on that cold night. I could see the text she gave me last Sunday.

‘Hi Son, hope you enjoyed your trip! See you church next Sunday!

‘Are you laughing at my baby pictures,’ she had laughed at Alex.

‘She passed away in her sleep, it was peaceful, Nathanial.’

‘She went to sleep and never woke up?’ my voice was also croaky. ‘You guys just went to sleep, and you woke up and, and?’

‘Are you okay, Nathanial?’

He was asking me if I was okay after his wife of thirty years passed away next to him?

‘I’m coming up,’ I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, leaning off the wall. ‘I’ll be at yours in an hour. I’m staying for a bit.’

‘Nathanial, I.’

‘Dad,’ I tried to keep my voice stern and clear. ‘Are you at home now?’

‘I want to make sure you are okay Nathanial.’

I was not okay.

I was really not okay.

‘I will stay yours for a bit Dad, okay,’ I paused. The words were imbedded in my tongue, words I hadn’t said for a long time. ‘I love you, Dad.’

There was a long pause, ‘I love you too, son.’

‘Love you, son!’

‘See you soon, love you, son!’

‘Love you, Nathanial!’

She knew I loved her.

That’s the excuse I used to explain why I never say it back.

My phone hung limp in my hand.

I looked up, the shelves in front of me were little wonky. Need fixing up at the side. It was an easy fix, one screw out, straighten the plank, screw it back in. All good and new.

I scanned the rest of the room. The wall was peeling, the pale paint flickering off. Quick paint job.

‘Wow’ mumbled Jake. ‘You find out your mum died and you became a handy man. What’s wrong with you?’

Her voice rang sweet in my ears, ‘Love you, son!’

I wiped my face with a desperate sleeve, wiping down my eyebrows, sweeping down my hair and rubbing my fingers through my beard.

Looking up, I noticed the walls had got closer to me.

Couldn’t stay here. I needed to go. I had to go now.

Straightening my back, I took a low deep breath, lifted my head and hardened my jaw.

Opening the door, I interrupted a young girl finishing her audition, everyone snapped their eyes to me. The girl wobbled her line, surprised.

Should have watched the rest of the auditions. Should have sat down and been professional.

I walked towards the chair; my eyes downcast. I aimed to sit down. The chair was there. Waiting.

No.

I grabbed at my bag and coat, ‘I am so sorry, but something has come up. I will ring you all later.’

‘Nathanial,’ Charlie said, his hand outstretched grabbing at my bicep.

‘I’ll ring later,’ I squeezed the words out of my closed throat, lifting my arm away from him.

I walked past the girl, nodding at her.

Keeping my head down, I wrapped my coat around me, and shrugged my bag on my shoulder.

I walked out the door, keeping my head down, past the rooms and around the chatter of young actors, not blinking at eye at anyone but themselves and the script.

‘Wow, a poem! Oh honey, this is wonderful! Your teacher said they were going to put it on the board too, aw, this is fantastic!’

‘It’s just a poem, mum,’ an embarrassed eight-year-old me mumbled.

‘It’s so clever, I love this rhyming here,’ she would smile and kiss my forehead. ‘On the fridge it goes. I can’t wait to read your other poems!’

I barely made it out the door to my car, and I felt like I’ve been shot with a rifle, right through the chest, a large bullet wound gorging through my chest, ripped through my skin.

I gasped and almost put my hand over my chest to feel the hole, expecting to feel the wetness of blood. But there was nothing there. Just my t-shirt. It was just me on my standing on my own in car park.

I clambered into my car, slamming my door shut.

Mum.

‘Are you okay, Nathanial?’ I could hear my dad’s voice in my ears.

Dad.

I had to get to my Dad.