Page 23 of Script Swap
It was hard to reconcile the realities of this space with the fact that Jonni had (apparently) wanted it badly enough to threaten to quit.It didn’t look like anything to fight over, but I imagine I’d feel differently if I were an actor.When you’re in a profession, you learn all the little things that are status symbols.A better dressing room was one for actors.For writers, it could be all sorts of things—where your book was displayed in a bookstore, or advance promotion, even the conferences you were invited to attend.I’d been at a panel one time where these two guys (big, muscly, ripped jeans—they wrote military urban fantasy, big surprise) had gotten into a fistfight over who got to sit closest to the microphone.
“No script,” I said.
“Don’t tell me that’s what this is about,” Jonni said.“The script?Really?”
“I think we’re all good, Jonni,” Fox tried.
“He bungled his lines.”Jonni waved a hand.“He’s not as good as he thinks he is.What’s the big deal?”
I didn’t know what the big deal was, but do you know what’s interesting from an amateur sleuth’s point of view?People who tell you things aren’t a big deal.Especially when those things clearlyarea big deal—at least, to somebody.
“I don’t suppose you saw what happened last night,” I said.
“Do you mean the show?”she said with a kind of exaggerated playfulness, like I was a little slow and needed to catch up.“I shouldn’t even be here, you know.I’m doing this as a favor to Terrence.”
“Really?”Fox said, and their voice had shot up into the I’m-going-to-throttle-you range.“Because as I recall—”
“But I love to give back.‘One must always give back.’Do you know who said that to me?”She didn’t wait for me to guess—I was going to say Cher!!!!“Jane Fonda.”And then with the kind of offhand pride that only the truly self-deluded can pull off, she added, “We worked together, you know.”
My mental index of films wasn’t that comprehensive, so I nodded and smiled.I pretended I was from one of those bland Midwestern states where everybody loves their neighbors and gets along and they do a barn-raising and have a big dance.(Was I thinking of the Amish?Did the Amish dance?) Missouri!I pretended to be from Missouri, and I smiled and nodded and was so impressed to meet a real, live movie star.
“Is something wrong with him?”Jonni asked Fox.
“Where do I start?”Fox said.“Have you ever seen a grown man google ‘video game underwear not for kids’—”
I cut them off with a nervous laugh.“Uh, nope, nothing wrong with me.Just so overwhelmed to be meeting you.I’m helping out, you know, and I wanted to ask you about last night.If you saw anything.”I tried to soften the words with a smile.“Anything suspicious, I mean.Anything that might help us figure out how someone managed to switch Kyson’s script.”
“It didn’t get switched,” Jonni said.“He got the lines wrong.Then he threw away the script and made up this story because he absolutely cannot fail—he thinks this is his big break, and if he screws it up, his life is over.It all starts in the home, you know.Mommy is an absolute dragon.I heard her on the phone with Kyson.The way she talked, if that boy didn’t bring home an Emmy, he could find himself a new family.God, wouldn’t that be a role to play?Like Mary Tyler Moore withteeth.”
I had no idea what that meant.I had no idea, for that matter, if Mary Tyler Moore had problems with her teeth.Or if she was even still alive.(Yes, I know I could google it.) But I did think it was an interesting detail about Kyson, and one I tucked away.
“Before the show—” I began.
“No, I didn’t see anything.Kyson was in his room, primping.”She rolled her eyes—this from a woman who was about two inches deep under foundation.“Terrence and Betty were arguing, as always.Nora had locked herself in her dressing room.The grande dame wasn’t going to come out until she got the respect she deserved—thinks she deserves.And that horrible little janitor was scurrying around, doing whatever he does.”
At this point, I have to tell you: Fox’s kettle was about to boil over—er, so to speak.I swear to God I saw sparks in their hair.
“Where were you?”I asked.
I expected to hearmy dressing room, probably followed by a list of complaints and explanations about why she had to / deserved to move into Kyson’s.But instead, Jonni gave me that uncomfortably big smile, batted her eyelashes, and said, “Oh, you know.About.”
I thought some words in my head that would have made Mary Tyler Moore’s teeth fall out.
(I have no idea what that means, but it sounds good, right?)
“Nobody came in here last night except Kyson?”I asked Jonni.
“That’s what I told you, isn’t it?”
To Fox, I said, “And there aren’t any other ways in here?A service entrance?”It felt like a big swing, but I went for it anyway: “The vents?”
It was a measure of Fox’s distress—or annoyance—that they didn’t jump all over that.“Not at all.”
I nodded to the only other door.“And that?”
“A private bathroom,” Jonni said.She pranced over to it.“Now call me old-fashioned, but I think a lady ought to have the dressing room with the private bathroom, don’t you?And look how big it is—”
She threw the door open with a little showgirl flourish.
