Amy Brashear - The Incredible True Story of the Making of the Eve of Destruction

“What’s wrong with Owen?” Max asked.

“I’m not deaf,” Owen said. “I just can’t see.”

“Need a hand?”

“Nope, I’m good,” he said, leaning against the bus.

It was cold. Colder than usual. But even though it had snowed in Griffin Flat, there wasn’t a touch of white powder on the mountain. We were wearing summer clothing under our heavy coats. Everyone was complaining in their own way.

Kitty and Raymond hadn’t arrived yet. In fact, Tyson tried radioing for them using the walkie-talkie, but they weren’t answering.

“It might not work. We’re kind of in a dead zone,” Max told Tyson.

“Ugh, I long for civilization,” Tyson said.

“You’re an asshole. You know that, right?” Max asked.

“I’ve been told that.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’ve been told.”

Tyson grabbed Owen’s arm. “Laura?” he asked.

“No, it’s Tyson.”

“Seriously, first you think I’m Astrid and now Tyson? I’m officially offended,” I said. “How much solution did they use to dilate your eyes?”

“Who knows—but I did hear an ‘oops’ and then ‘oh shit,’” Owen said.

“Yikes,” I said.

“We have to get this right the first time,” Mr. Edman said after he gathered us around. “We only have one shot. Right when I say ‘action,’ we need to go. Skeet’s going to set off the explosions, and we’ll film it. Dylan’s got this, right?”

Dylan nodded.

“I hate to be that person, but I can’t see your nod, if you’re nodding. Did Dylan nod?” Owen asked anyone who would listen.

“That’s an affirmative,” said Freddy.

It had been an hour, and Kitty and Raymond hadn’t made it here. It shouldn’t have taken them that long. But Tyson said they probably got distracted with the scene going on simultaneously on Main Street. Most businesses down on Main Street were delaying opening until after filming began. Some were going to be closed all day. Like, Dewayne’s bookstore was going to be closed. He was going to be a victim. He got seventy-five dollars to shave his head—and beard. And if you knew him, you would know that was a major deal. A lot of my classmates were going to be victims today too. The director didn’t want to use anyone under the age of twelve. I guessed he didn’t want children to be traumatized, even though being traumatized was all the rage. The director, with the help of Dylan here and Eddie Payne, BC-AD Productions, and Economy Pictures, was planning to traumatize viewers with two disturbing hours of Hiroshima in the Ozarks.

“We’ll do two practice takes and then one on film, got it?” the director asked.

Everyone nodded.

“Is everyone nodding?” Owen asked.

“Yes, they’re all nodding,” the director said, sounding annoyed. “Honestly, just assume they’re all nodding to anything that is being asked.”

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it,” Owen said, crossing his arms, but he kind of lost his footing, and without Freddy grabbing him, he would have fallen over.

“You all right, buddy?” Freddy asked.

“How close am I going to be to the edge of the mountain when we’re looking at the bomb going off?” Owen asked.

“Not that close,” Dylan said.

“Okay, good.”

“Now everyone, rest. It’s going to be a while. Tyson, I need the walkie-talkie,” the director said.

Tyson ran over to hand the walkie-talkie to him.

“So what do we do now?” I asked anyone who would listen.

“Practice lines,” said Tyson. “You don’t want to look a fool.”

I found a corner in the cave that Max was hiding out in and practiced.

“You’re good at this acting thing,” Max said to me.

“Really?” I asked.

“Sure. But it can’t be that hard. Astrid does it.”

“You do know how to lift one’s spirits, don’t you?”

Tyson came in the cave complaining that the walkie-talkies weren’t working. He was shaking it, like that was going to get it to work.

“Service’s not so good up here,” Max said.

“That’s just great,” Tyson said, starting to walk out of the cave.

“Wait, Tyson,” Freddy called.

“Yeah?”

“Are Kitty and Raymond here?”

He shook his head. “But don’t worry. Norman says it’s okay, you look good to go.”

We practiced standing on the edge of Crow Mountain and pretended that we were watching Pikesville burn.

Tyson was trying to get the walkie-talkies to work. He walked clear across the mountaintop, or at least to where we were.

“Come in, anyone. Come in, anyone. This is Tyson. Does anyone copy?” Tyson would press the button, talk, and then release it, waiting for someone, anyone, to reply.

Seeing him so worried was making me worried.

“This is Pyrotechnic Extraordinaire. Copy?” Skeet said.

“Got him!” Tyson said, running to the director.

The director took the walkie-talkie and pressed the button.

Director: “Norman for Skeet. Copy that?”

Skeet: “Go for Skeet.”

Director: “Are you ready? Copy?”

Skeet: “Ready to burn Pikesville. Hell, yeah.”

Director: “You’ll be on the walkie-talkie with Tyson. Copy?”

Tyson looked sick.

Skeet: “Ty Ty.”

Director: “Yes, Ty Ty.”

Skeet: “Totally stoked.”

Director: “How about a countdown? Copy?”

Skeet: “Copy that.”

Director: “Okay, stand by for Tyson.”

Skeet: “Standing by for Ty Ty.”

Tyson took the walkie-talkie from the director.

“Okay, we’ll have one more run-through, and then we’ll be ready to shoot,” the director said through his bullhorn.

We scrambled back into place.

Terrence had one line. He was proud of that one line. Had worked on that one line for a long time.

Skeet: “Skeet for Ty Ty. Copy that?”

Tyson: “Go for Tyson.”

Skeet: “We are ready to go. Copy?”

Tyson: “Copy that.”

“Skeet’s ready,” Tyson yelled.

“Then so are we,” the director said.

We got in position: “James,” “Helen,” “Hank,” and “Jackson,” aka Terrence.

Skeet: “Skeet for Ty Ty. Copy that?”

Tyson: “Go for Tyson.”

Skeet: “Sirens are blaring. Copy?”

Tyson: “Copy that.”

“The sirens are blaring,” Tyson said.

“Yes, they’re supposed to; we paid off the auxiliary,” the director said. “Tell Skeet we’re ready. Commence countdown.”

Tyson: “Tyson for Skeet. Copy that?”

Skeet: “Go for Skeet.”

Tyson: “Commence countdown. Copy that?”

Skeet: “Commencing countdown. Copy.”

We didn’t move. We were afraid to, actually. There was only one chance to get this right. Skeet had rigged the explosions to mimic a nuclear bomb. In the editing room, they would really make it look like a mushroom cloud.

Skeet: “Skeet to the survivors. Copy that?”

Tyson: “Copy.”

Dylan filmed, and we watched the sky, ready to play the part we were meant to play.

Skeet: “Commencing countdown. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One—”

“Okay, remember, one shot. We’re breaking ground here. Freddy and Terrence in one scene. Wow!” the director screamed. “And ACTION.”

EXT. PIKESVILLE MOUNTAIN—MORNING

JAMES, HELEN, HANK, and JACKSON stand on the mountaintop near the edge, watching the town undergo a Civil Defense drill.

The Radio Station plays a message.

Sirens sound.