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I don’t know why I accepted Kiki so easily. I had a great life. Not much drama, which is good as I don’t like drama. I had plenty enough growing up with Dad. I like things that just hum along and don’t demand so much of me that they become bothersome.
Kiki could easily change that, so it would make more sense to tell my dad no way am I keeping him. But . . . but that was the problem. Because for some reason, I liked Kiki, and I wanted him around. He brought something to my life. There was uncertainty, which could be a future problem, and some of that I might not like, but there was a feeling, too, a sensation that now my life might get more interesting. Might get more fun. Might get more meaningful.
And thinking that made me realize fun wasn’t much of a part of my life. Actually, it never had been. I’d enjoyed the creative element of writing a book and then pounding it into shape, which took as long as it did to write it. I found working on the film had been fascinating, and I’d loved doing it. But it wasn’t fun. It was work—enjoyable but unquestionably work. It was learning and getting to know all sorts of people and jobs I hadn’t known before. It was satisfying and educational, but short of what you’d call fun.
Okay, okay, there’d been short periods where it was fun. The wrap party for the movie was fun. Working closely with Grant, getting to know him—some of that I could class as fun. Certain times during filming when actors had screwed up and began laughing, that was fun. But mostly my life was rewarding and pleasant and a laid-back, comfortable routine.
Kiki brought an element of fun with him. I couldn’t define it, but I recognized it. It surrounded him—an aura he emanated. I think that perhaps it was his attitude, his behavior, and his optimism, and certainly his happiness that he wore like a cloak. There was an openness to him, an honesty that seemed almost naive but that made him a joy to be around.
The dinner he cooked for us was just one example of how he made a change for Julia and me. I sat down to dinner expecting to have to fake my pleasure so his feelings wouldn’t be hurt. I had no thought that the food would be spectacular. Besides the food, he kept conversations going with Julia and me that were just fun. I couldn’t remember a dinner like that. Kiki and his spirit made it special.
I’d known early on I’d keep him. Everything he’d done since had supported my decision.
I had to get to know him, and taking him to work with me was the beginning of that. I sat in the back of the limo with him, and we talked. It wasn’t a burden. I’m not much of a talker. Not much practice growing up. But I didn’t need to be. Silence had become my default position. Kiki took care of that. I needed to get to know him, and while it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, he told me he needed to get to know me, too.
Then he did even better. He began the conversation. He was better at chitchat than I was.
“Julia said you were writing the Holly’s Outfit show. I love that show, the characters, the plot. It’s so well done. Tell me how that works. Do you have a bunch of writers sitting together figuring it all out, or does everyone do their own thing before it gets massaged together, or what?”
He was making it easy for me, asking for things like this. “When I began doing this, I was a newcomer to this process, Kiki. The others working on the scripts were all old hands at it. Grant, who directed our movie and is directing each episode of the show, wanted me to be part of the writing team; he likes me for some reason. I’d never done this before, so I didn’t say much at first.
“We get together in a room with a table long enough for us all to sit together. There’s a head writer and then six others working on this show. At the beginning, the head writer told us all what the show would be about. He and Grant had already put together the first episode. It hadn’t been taped yet, but it was a finished script. Jonathan, the producer, wanted several episodes written before casting and shooting began.”
I paused for Kiki to ask another question, but he was just looking interested—eager in fact—so I continued. “The head writer—his name is Barnes Cobb—gave us each a copy of the first script and had us read it, then asked us to throw out ideas for the next episode. That was interesting. Experienced writers all, coming up with original ideas out of the blue. I did, too, but I was a little intimidated; I didn’t want to speak up and show everyone how insipid my ideas were.”
Kiki laughed. “Yeah; right. You wrote a book and helped script a movie. Insipid my a— Oops, I’m not supposed to use that word.”
That was my cue to laugh. “You’ll hear much worse words than that around here. Don’t hold back on my account. Or with the writers, either. They’re used to kids being around, the ones who are actors, and you’d better believe those kids have heard enough to stunt their growth. Seen too much, too. Their experiences make them different from other kids.
“The writers don’t mince words. They feel if the kids are working with adults, they’re old enough to hear adult language.”
Kiki shook his head. “Dad always told me to use proper English and proper words—that I’d be judged by how I talked as well as how I behaved.”
“Well, maybe, but how you speak and when is complex, and you gain insight with experience. You’re already as good at making conversation as I am; even better. So I don’t have to tell you that it’s important to look at your audience. To some, not saying ‘ass’ when it should be said would make you look like a wimp or effete, that you’re someone they can ignore or take advantage of. But choose your spots; say ‘ass’ when speaking to the Queen of England and, yeah, that wouldn’t go over well. It’s a matter of propriety.”
“Like I’ll ever talk to her!”
“You never know. I think the sky’s the limit for you, Kiki. I think you can do whatever you decide you want to do. You’ve got a couple of the things that make that possible.”
“What?”
“You’re smart and appealing. Attractive, too, but that’s not as important as smart, and attractive isn’t the same as appealing. Besides, your looks will change in the next several years. Maybe more handsome, maybe more unique. But it’s your behavior and character that’ll matter. And your smarts.”
“Why do you think I’m smart?”
I smiled at him. “I’ve always been good at reading people. We haven’t spent much time together, you and I, but it’s been enough to see how you are. I can read you like yesterday’s newspaper. You’re obvious.”
Kiki could be sarcastic when he wanted to be. “Well, thanks, I guess.” Sarcasm infused his voice. But then his tone changed, and he suddenly was 12 again. “Tell me more about script-writing. I’ve written some stories; I really liked doing that. It was fun and even something more. I felt I was accomplishing something, something that was just mine. But the stories sound like a kid’s writing, and I want to know more how you do it, how professionals do it. So, tell me one thing you’ve learned writing scripts you didn’t know at the start; something for me to learn.”
I had to think for a moment. “Okay, here’s one thing. The head writer knew this. Maybe it was why he was the head. But he told us right off, we needed a story arc. Each episode would be complete in itself, but . . . well, that isn’t true, either. Some scripts would be on a two- or three-episode track. However, from the season’s first episode carrying on to the storyline’s conclusion, he said we needed one or two things that carry on with a resolution only coming in the last episode, something that’ll tie the series or episodes together. I didn’t know that. But it works in all writing. Makes what you’re doing, the entire plot, seem more consequential and more fulfilling to read, or in this case, be seen.
“That’s the sort of thing you learn when working with people who’ve been doing this for a long time.”
“This is great!” Kiki enthused. He’d turned in his seat so he was mostly facing me. “I want to sit in on some of your sessions.”
I thought about that and liked that he wanted to do it, see us all in action. Would the other writers mind? One of them was a grouch who complained about everything—like the room being too hot and stuffy and then bitched that the open window was letting in too much noise. He’d complain about Kiki being there, but as that was just him, the sort who’d complain about the nakedness in the garden of Eden and that Eve’s horripilation was distracting; we’d just ignore him, and the others would enjoy Kiki being there. Kiki could be looked at as a composite of what we were writing about.
We continued chatting on the way to the studio, getting on with each other, and I was enjoying it. When we arrived, he was agog at all there was to see. As usual, we didn’t get stopped at the gate as the gateman knew both Pete and the car. We parked by one of the admin buildings where we writers worked and got out of the car.
“I think you should wander around some, see what the place looks like, see some of the sound stages where indoor filming and taping takes place; visit the canteen.”
“Canteen? I think you used that word before. Isn’t a canteen something you carry water in?”
“It has more than one meaning, like many words do. Another word for canteen is cafeteria. They call a cafeteria a canteen here; other places call it a commissary or a cafe or something else.” I grinned. “But you need a guide for wandering around here, and since you have a crush on Hunter Daines—his name is Howard Baskings, and he won’t like being called Hunter—I’ll get him to do it. He should be here now, going over lines for today’s shooting.”
“Really! Wow. Thanks!”
“He should be in his trailer. Come on. I’ll show you.”
There were a few trailers on the lot where actors could rest and have privacy. The cast of Holly’s Outfit had two trailers, one for the younger cast members, and one just for Howard. Howard had insisted on having his own.
“Why don’t all the kids share one large trailer?” Kiki asked.
I started to answer, then paused. Kiki liked to learn things on his own. No reason to deprive him of that opportunity now. I finally said, “You’ll see.”
It was a ways from the admin building to the trailers, and Kiki got to see some of the buildings and outdoor sets as we walked. He saw some actors in makeup, too, some wearing little but a loincloth. Kiki’s eyes followed them as long as they were in view.
When we were finally where the trailers were located, I knocked on a door of a trailer that I knew Howard had appropriated. A younger kid answered.
“Yes?” he asked. I guessed he was Howard’s brother: he looked like a smaller, younger version of Howard.
“Hi,” I said, a little surprised Kiki hadn’t been the one to speak as he and the kid were about the same age and Kiki didn’t have a shy bone in his body. But if anything, Kiki had managed to slide a bit behind me. “I need a tour guide. Keith here,” I managed to pull him into full view, “hasn’t been here before. Oh, incidentally, I’m a writer on Howard’s show. I’d like Howard to show Keith around. You Howard’s brother?”
The kid wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t showing much of anything. “Yeah, I’m Carl. And Howard’s busy. He doesn’t have time for showing anyone around, and besides, he’s too important to be a tour guide. I can give you an autographed picture if you want, but he doesn’t meet people unless it’s scheduled in advance.”
“Oh?” I knew Howard acted a little above it all when not in character, but, well, this sounded quite arrogant and pretentious. But maybe that was more Carl than Howard. “Well, how about you then? You have the time to show Keith around?”
“No. I have to be here if Howard needs me for anything. He can’t have his craft interrupted, and I need to be here to handle things for him and see he’s not disturbed. Like he’d be if I wasn’t here to answer the door and talk to you right now.” With that, Carl stepped back and closed the door.
I shook my head, then looked at Kiki. “Why the disappearing act?”
He looked a little embarrassed but did answer me. “Did you see him? How cute he is? I always get a little flustered when meeting a cute kid my age whose looks turn me on.”
“Yeah, but his attitude?”
“I know. I know. Is Howard that way, too? Tell me he’s not.”
“I don’t know him very well,” I answered, “but I’ve heard that he’s stuck up. That he thinks he’s a great actor and should be treated that way. Like he’s the star of the show, the Outfit.”
“Is that why he has his own trailer? Wow, I didn’t know he was like this. Well, there goes my crush on him, then. I don’t like stuck up or egotistical kids. I like kids who are real.”
“Come on. We’ll find someone else to show you around. And I know how to do that. I’m sorry Howard didn’t work out.”
The trailers which were used for the actors as both dressing rooms and places to rest between takes were all located in the same area, and it was a short walk to the larger trailer that housed the rest of the kids on Holly’s Outfit. I knocked on that door and one of the kids, the one who played Jimmy on the show, the next-to-the-youngest actor, answered.
“Hey, Mark isn’t it?” Mark smiled, and I continued. “Mark, this is my brother Keith. I’m a writer on your show. Is there anyone here who could show him around the lot? This is his first time here.”
“Sure; I can. I already have my lines down. I don’t have many.” He looked at me and adopted a stern expression. Though a kid, he was an actor; he knew just how to do that. “Maybe someone could write me a few more.” Then he laughed.
“Maybe I’ll just do that,” I said. Then I told him I appreciated his taking care of Keith and then asked him, “At lunch time, could you take him to the canteen? I’ll meet you there and take him off your hands.”
Mark gave Keith the onceover, a quite obviousl onceover, nodded to himself as if making a judgment, and said, “Uh, maybe I won’t want you to. He’s awfully good-looking. Is he as nice as he is cute?”
“Hey!” Kiki said and then blushed. I laughed, gave him a wink and then left for the writing room.
) 0 (
I couldn’t believe it! This couldn’t be happening! The first part had gone perfectly. The threat was delivered, the sheep made the impact I’d expected it would; it provided some misdirection, too, and showed my capability in a way that was hard to ignore. Yet now Kiki was gone!
It wasn’t just that Kiki had disappeared. I’d of course realized that might happen, but I thought the man would still communicate with the boy, and then it would be easy to locate him. But there’d been no communication at all.
I had to find the boy. Then I’d send the old man another threat. Maybe something with it that would seal the deal and add time pressure. Convince the old man how much Kiki would be hurt if he didn’t act immediately. Let the old man’s imagination work on that. But first and foremost, I wanted to find the boy.
That was my next step. I was working on it. I still had things to try. Getting the boy was the key. And soon. I wasn’t going to wait forever. I wanted that money!
Clay took me to work with him! That was great, seeing where he worked and how the writers interacted, the collaboration, the ideas being flung around, how the scripts were developed,. I loved the energy in that room. But even riding in the car to work was a good experience as we each got to know each other a little better than we had before.
He wasn’t one to throw his thoughts around willy-nilly. Seemed he’d have been happy just sitting quietly as we rode. Well, perhaps not happy, but within himself. That seemed to be his comfort zone.
I could feel that right off. The gift of gab must have missed him; maybe that was delivered by the tooth fairy along with a dollar or two; as my dad—who was also his dad—didn’t believe in that sort of thing, I’m sure Her Fairyness was kept locked out of the house, and so she hadn’t visited him when he was a child. Hence his lack of that communicative gift. She didn’t visit me, either, though, so maybe it wasn’t the tooth fairy after all. It was just how he was.
I did discover that, while silence was his escape or defense mechanism, if I could find things he was interested in to talk about or when I’d occasionally find something he was enthusiastic about, he forgot the introspection and reticence and actually became forthcoming.
Okay, hold on a sec. I should explain something. As I mentioned before, I use words that most kids my age don’t know. Big whoop. I learned about introverts and extroverts and reticence and communicativeness last year in school, so those words are in my vocabulary, and if you’ve got it, flaunt it; I heard that once. So I use big words: so what? I think everyone needs something to feel proud of. I’ll never be one to excel at arm wrestling, say, or yodeling, and I suck at sports even when trying hard. Having a good vocabulary is more in my ballpark. And I can be and am proud of it.
Okay; glad that’s cleared up.
So, when we got to the studio, I saw it was huge. I couldn’t see how big, just that it was immense. We drove through the gate without even stopping; the guard just waved us in. Clay told me he had to get to his job, but he’d find someone to show me around, and then we’d meet for lunch.
The someone turned out to be the kid who played Jimmy on the Outfit show. I knew all the kids by their screen names. Jimmy was more of a background cast character, a minor one at that, definitely not a lead, so I didn’t really have a feel for him, other than having the hots for him. I do have this thing about cute boys. He seemed to be a year younger than me, but regardless of that, he did have some charisma. Maybe you need that to get cast in shows.
But before I met Mark, who played Jimmy, I did get to see Hunter. I saw him in his trailer while Clay was talking to Hunter’s brother, Carl. I ended up kind of upset. Neither of those two was friendly at all. On the show, Hunter is very kind and supportive of his younger brothers and is this very likeable character. In real life, he’d stared at me dismissively, showing active disinterest while I was looking in as Carl talked to Clay. Expecting eager sociability and getting cold indifference—I wasn’t ready for that. It made me feel like I’d been hit with the ugly-stick on the way to his trailer. Maybe you have to be my age to be as disillusioned as I’d been. But this felt like betrayal. That was one crush that was now easy to let go.
Jimmy, meaning Mark, was so different! He was nice! Friendly, chatty, but mostly, he was real. He wasn’t a stuck-up actor; he was a kid like me! We got along great. He wasn’t the sort of kid I’d get a crush on. He was cute enough for that, but something was missing, that I-don’t-know-what quality that makes my knees weak—which was better for me. He didn’t intimidate me at all once I got to know him, so I could talk freely like I usually could. We were two kids getting to know each other, and we both were happy doing that. I doubted we’d ever have the opportunity, but if we could spend time together, I’m sure we’d have become good friends.
He took me on a tour of the studio lot, and it was ginormous! There were solid buildings, sound stages with high ceilings and wide doors so all the various equipment that was needed could be brought in and moved around easily. There were outdoor sets that were used for both city and rural shots. There were buildings holding costumes and sound equipment and dressing rooms for supporting actors and day players. There were styling rooms for makeup and hair designs; others were used for prop storage and construction. There was even a lake for water shots.
I liked the area used for Western action shots, a hilly area with brush and rocks and ramshackle huts. It even looked familiar! We climbed one of the hills that was high enough that we could look down on the entire set.
“You must spend a lot of time here, Mark. You know just where everything is and what’s what.”
“That’s what being an actor is. You do more waiting than acting. There are all kinds of interruptions and delays during shooting, things going wrong, actors missing, the light being wrong for outside shots, animals not behaving—just anything. Plus, they only call you when they need you for some specific action. Once I have my lines down, I’m free to do as I want when there’s no school in session here. I only get called now and then for taping, and otherwise I have lots of time to myself. I use it to explore.”
“Do you like it? Acting?”
“At first, it’s really exciting. Then, after not too long, it becomes a job. But yeah, I like it. Some roles are better than others.”
“You get to know other kids here? I love Holly’s Outfit. You must know all the other kids on the show. Are you all friends?”
“No. Just like any group of kids, some you like, some you don’t become friends with. I like most of these guys. Howard can go jump in the lake without a life preserver as far as most of us are concerned. He’s a stuck-up brat who thinks he’s better than all of us. But he is a good actor. Just not a nice person.”
We talked about the show some more, and he told me Holly’s Outfit was the best show he’d been cast on for one big reason. “The writing is far and away better than in any show I’ve done; better than anything else being taped at the moment.”
He pointed out some things we could see from the hill that we hadn’t seen on the tour. Then I looked at my phone and told Mark we should be heading to the cafeteria.
He laughed. “Everyone seems to call that place something else. I call it a cafe; no one else does, which is why I do. I like to be different.”
“So do I! It’s a way to be noticed and independent. Do all 12-year-olds want that?”
“Maybe. Probably. I do. Hey, I’m an actor! But a lot of 11-year-olds look for recognition, too. We get overlooked if we don’t do something to make some noise.”
We climbed back down, and I followed Mark to a large building that others were also headed toward. Some of them were in costume; some of them were just dressed normally. A few had on business suits, but not many.
We walked in. The room was noisy. It was filled with tables, some seating 10 or more people, some sized for only two or four. I saw Clay with a large group of men standing in line to get food. He saw me, said something to the men he was with, and worked through the tables to where I was.
When he joined us, he spoke to Mark. “I’m going to steal Keith away, if you can spare him. I want him to eat with the writers, get to know them. Can you eat with your Outfit friends?”
Mark frowned, and he did it so well I forgot he was an actor. Then he smiled. “Well, I’ll make a deal. I’ll give Keith back to you, but in return you write me a larger part in one of the upcoming episodes.”
Clay put on an act, too, but with him, it was easy to tell it was faked. He scowled, shook his head, and said, “I’d have to be a much better writer to figure out how to do that, give a larger part to someone who lacks the craft to pull it off.”
Mark laughed, then said, “Yeah, right. Talk to my agent! Anyway, you’ll never know if I can do it if you don’t give me a chance.”
Clay nodded. “You got me there. Good argument. Okay, it’s a deal.”
“Really? Gee. Thanks!”
I thanked Mark for taking the time to show me around, and he said he hoped we could get together again. I hoped so, too; I really liked him. As he walked away, I followed him with my eyes and saw him head for a table where kids were sitting. I recognized them as Outfit cast members. They must have been waiting for him because when he reached their table, they all got up and joined the food line; Mark was part of the group, and well-liked. There was no sign of Howard. Maybe he was too big a star to stand in a food line.
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Posted 7 February 2026