Rhett McLaughlin - The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek

“Lemme see,” Alicia said, grabbing the pages. Rex leaned over her shoulder to refresh himself on the scene he was about to direct.

EXT. OUTDOOR BIRTHDAY PARTY—DAY

JESSICA (played by Alicia) and her DAD (played by Leif) are at a birthday party.

DAD

Whats the matter, sweetheart? Aren’t you exited to be at Aunt Kate’s birthday party?

JESSICA

Of course I am. It’s just…

DAD

You still thinking about Mr. Bones?

Jessica nods, tearry-eyed.

DAD

I know. I wish that darn motorcycle had never hit him. Hey, here’s a Frisbee. Why don’t you go throw it around a bit, have a little fun?

JESICA

Okay, Dad.

Jessica walks around the party. She throws the Frisbee to no one, then stops in her tracxks when she sees a dog.

JESSICA

Mr. Bones…? Is that you?

The dog barks twiice.

JESSICA

Oh my gosh!! I knew you were still alive!

Jessica runs to enbrace Mr. Bones, but then he tries to pounce on her!

JESSICA

Mr. Bones stop! Why are you doing this?

Jessica notices that Mr. Bones now has a long white tale.

JESSICA

Wait a second…Your not alive, are you? Your a g-g- g-ghost!!! Ahhhhh!!! 1

Jessica starts to run, weaveing in and out of people. Mr. Bones chases and barks evilly.

JESSICA

Somebody help!!! My dog is a ghost!

She runs into the arms of DAD.

JESSICA

Help, Daddy! Mr. Bones is back and he wants to kill me!

DAD looks. Mr. Bones is gone.

CLOSE-UP on Jessica, scared and confused.

“Okay, got it. Let’s shoot this thing,” said Alicia.

“Well, actually,” Rex said, “I just had an idea. If we wait to shoot until lots of people are sitting down, we can get a really good reaction shot from them.”

“Yeah, that’ll be perfect,” Leif said. Though they were practically brothers at this point, Rex still felt proud when Leif complimented one of his ideas. “In that quiet moment after they say the blessing, Alicia will come by screaming, with Tucker on her heels. It’s gonna feel so real.”

“Plus,” Alicia said, “I’m gonna deliver a highly authentic performance. I won’t be surprised if somebody steps in to rescue poor Jessica from her ghost dog.”

“ Polter Dog.” Rex and Leif corrected her in unison.

Alicia nodded and winked. “Right. Polter Dog. It won’t be long before people all across North Carolina are saying that.”

The three of them looked at each other, their excitement palpable. The deadline for the Durham Film Festival was in three weeks, and though it would get a little trickier to find time to shoot (not to mention edit) once school started, they were still on track to get PolterDog finished and submitted just under the wire.

“All right, great,” Rex said. “So let’s save the dialogue for later and start with Tucker chasing Alici—”

“Rex, sweetie,” Martha interrupted. “Are y’all gonna sit down and join us?”

“Oh,” Rex said. “Yeah, Mom, in a sec, after they actually serve the food. We, uh, just have to film a quick shot for our movie.” He knew it would be wiser to give some kind of heads-up, so it didn’t seem like he was trying to pull one over on them.

“Now? Here?”

“It’ll be really quick. People probably won’t even notice,” Rex said, unconvincingly.

“We’ve talked about this, son,” his dad said. “You need to spend less time on your little movie and more time practicing, so that you’re ready for basketball tryouts.”

“I know, Dad,” Rex said, a tightness settling in the pit of his stomach, like he was six years old again and had just wet the bed. “But it’s not like I could practice here anyway.”

“You can practice your defensive stance anywhere.” His dad dropped into a squat and stretched his hands out to his sides.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Rex’s mom said, breaking the tension. “As long as you sit down with us once you’re— Oh, hey, Alicia!” Rex watched his mom’s mouth twist into the manufactured grin that Martha McClendon offered to people she had reservations about. “Didn’t see you there. How are you, hon?” She didn’t dislike Alicia, but she definitely liked Leif more. She’d once said to Rex that she didn’t trust “girls who make so many jokes.” It hadn’t helped that Alicia had been caught earlier that summer pulling down the pants of every mannequin in the display window of the Belk department store. Even though the only thing exposed was a series of smooth, mild bulges on the androgynous dummies, the store manager, Faye Johnson, had found the whole scene so scandalous that she’d fainted, toppling over a pyramid of pantyhose. Word had spread quickly throughout town that Alicia Boykins was to blame.

“Excellent! Thanks, Mrs. McClendon,” Alicia said.

“We’re gonna go get ready for this quick shot,” Rex said, leading Leif, Alicia, and Tucker—Leif holding tight to Tucker’s leash as he pulled and licked his lips at Alicia—away from the picnic tables. Hungry Bleak Creekians had already filled the seats and were patiently waiting for Pastor Jingle of Second Baptist to say grace, giving them the green light to gorge themselves on pig parts.

Rex surveyed the area, holding up his hands in the shape of a box like he had seen Martin Scorsese do in a picture from the set of Goodfellas, a movie he and Leif had watched after sneaking in through the exit of the Twin Plaza theater two years before. Rex still had an occasional nightmare where he was lying in a trunk and Joe Pesci would open it up and begin stabbing him. He never told Leif.

“All right,” Rex said with a firm nod, trying to seem like he’d had some directorly epiphany. “I’ll stay over here, just past the tables, and you guys head all the way back over there toward the parking lot entrance. As soon as Pastor Jingle finishes saying grace, I’ll throw up my hand and you’ll start running.”

“I’ll have Tucker by the collar until I see your signal,” Leif said.

“Right. Then Tucker will run, and Alicia, you’ll be screaming and saying your line.”

“Yep,” Alicia said.

“All right, all right.” C.B. Donner’s voice crackled through the sound system. “It’s the moment we’ve all been waitin’ for. Chef Whitewood, if you please…” C.B. pointed to Whitewood, who, with a flourish, lifted the cover of the grill. “His glorious pig hath been cooked!” C.B. said, to cheers from the crowd. “I’d like to introduce Pastor Jingle and our special guest today, Pastor Mitchell, from First Baptist. They’re gonna say grace …together .”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Pastor Mitchell’s presence was notable, seeing as a main tenet of the Second Baptist Church was the silent judgment of congregants of the First (and vice versa), to which Rex and his family belonged. No one could remember why it had once seemed so necessary to start another church, especially one that held to the same precepts as the first, but that did little to temper the hushed rivalry. In fact, Whitewood’s barbecue was likely the only reason that so many Firsters had shown up and donated six dollars to an organization they despised. This surprise tag-team blessing may have been Second Baptist’s way of thanking them for coming. Or, it may have been more about establishing a subtle yet united front against the Presbyterian church that had just been built outside of town. Either way, no one had seen this level of cooperation between Pastor Mitchell and Pastor Jingle since they both insisted that the Bleak Creek High School chorus not perform John Lennon’s “Imagine” at their regional competition.

“We gotta get going or we’ll miss our moment,” Rex said, trying not to be thrown by the dual prayer or by Sheriff Lawson, whom he’d noticed standing by the tables, his hands rubbing his bulbous gut like he was preparing his stomach for the imminent feast. Shooting a movie in public without a permit wasn’t an arrestable offense, was it? Guess he’d find out soon enough. “Head over there, and as soon as I signal, you go.”