Acting Out (9 page)

I
t’s way past lunchtime when we all invade Gran’s fridge. I try to fix us something nutritious, but everyone seems too hungry to wait for real food. David and Maggie whip up boxed macaroni and cheese for everyone. The rest of us munch on carrots and apples while we wait for the microwave to serve up the orange cheesy mess.

“So, everybody, as I mentioned earlier today, I have a terrific plan for all of us,” I say, tossing my apple core in the trash.

“Ahh, the mysterious PSAs?” Brenna asks.

“Exactly,” I say. I fire up my laptop so I can show them the website I created.

“Well, spill it. Your first idea worked out great,”
David says between big bites of mac and cheese.

Before I can begin, David adds, “As a matter of fact, all of your ideas are great.”

This remark seems to take everyone by surprise, even David himself, who immediately goes red in the face.

I need a moment to remember exactly what I was going to say. “We’re going to film some public service announcements.” I check to see if my computer is ready. Not yet. So I continue. “We’ll do short commercials about animal health and safety. We can start with one about antifreeze. We’ll post them on a couple of Internet video sites and on our own website. Then we can spread the word in the community so as many people as possible will see them. We can tell our friends and teachers at school, and put a link on the Dr. Mac’s Place website. And Brenna, maybe your parents can help us get the word out at the wildlife rehab.”

I look around Gran’s kitchen to see how excited everyone is. Nobody really looks enthused.

David just looks confused. So does Josh. Sunita’s eyes are wide and she is sitting up very straight. Jules’s forehead is all scrunched up as she turns to look at Brenna. I can’t tell what Brenna thinks, either. She’s awfully quiet. I turn to look at my cousin. She doesn’t look too excited, either.

“What do you mean, ‘we’re going to film them’?” asks Maggie. “With your Minicam?”

“Sure. It’s a great little camera,” I reply.

“Brian has one, too,” David adds.

“Great, we can borrow his as well,” I say.
And then I can see Brian,
I think. Bonus!

“Who are we filming doing this?” asks Jules.

“Yeah, who are the actors?” David asks.

“We are. That’s what will make these really effective. Who cares about saving animals more than we do?”

Sunita nods slowly. Jules looks like she’s starting to understand this, too.

“But—we’re not actors,” Jules says, sounding more than a little anxious.

“This isn’t a movie,” I say. “It’s a short public service announcement. Acting in this sort of thing is easy. You just have to be yourselves.”

“Don’t you think we should hire some real actors, though?” Jules asks.

“No, I don’t. Where would we get the money to pay them?” I look at my friends. Not one of them is excited like I thought they would be. “Don’t you want to help teach people about antifreeze poisoning?”

Brenna speaks up. “Of course we do, Zoe. I think we’re all just nervous about the acting part.”

I try again to make them understand. “Listen, it’s not like you have to become a character. It’s not like being in a school play. We are Vet Volunteers, explaining something very important about animal care. It’s nothing we haven’t done lots of times. Just speak clearly and be yourselves.” I look at David. “Or a calmer version of yourself.”

“Ha!” he says, tossing a crumpled napkin at me.

I look from Vet Volunteer to Vet Volunteer. They all look nervous.

Then Brenna asks, “And what were you saying about the website?”

“Last night I set up a site for us,” I say. “It’s not much, but it’s a start. We’ll post the videos and create other content. We can write up other animal tips and even post pictures of animals that are available for adoption at the clinic, like those kittens were. Gran can help. She can make sure we’ve got it all right.”

“Well, I’m in,” Brenna says. “I think filming PSAs is a great idea. And I’ve always wanted to have a website for the Vet Volunteers.”

“When are we going to do this? School starts back up tomorrow.” Maggie doesn’t look like she thinks this is such a good idea.

“Today,” I reply. Everyone looks surprised. “Why not? I’ve written our first script. Once we
do one, the rest will be easier. Then we can do a couple more next week.”

“How many of these do you want us to do?” Sunita asks. She looks all kinds of worried again. I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Sunita can be shy sometimes.

“We can start with one or two about the dangers of antifreeze. That way we have something to look at on our website. And then we’ll do more as we come up with new topics.” My computer is finally fully booted. I turn it so everyone can see the site.

“This looks great,” Brenna says. “I like the pictures of Sherlock and the kittens. We might want to load a few more graphics up on it. I have a lot of wildlife images on my computer at home that we can use.”

Josh leans in to look. “I like the puppy pictures on the home page.”

Jules says, “We should take a picture of Cuddles for the site, too.”

“And Rover,” David chimes in.

“Yes, all great ideas,” I say. “Now let’s start the PSAs! The first one shoots in the backyard. Let’s go.”

We trample out to Gran’s backyard. I give Maggie, Sunita, and Brenna one script to read over and Jules, Josh, and David the other. I should have made more copies. Oh well.

I scan the backyard for possible locations to film. Let’s see. We could do it over by the tall evergreens, or maybe right beside the porch. And the lighting is really good down by the kennel runs. We’ll try them all and pick the best ones to upload to the website. If we can at least get one done today, I can tell my mom to check it out. If all goes well, maybe I’ll even get a response from her before I go to bed tonight.

“David, do you know how to use this?” I wave my camera.

“Yep. I used Brian’s once when he didn’t know. Took a video of him flexing his muscles in the mirror. Not much to look at.”

“Did he find out?” Josh asks.

“Oh yeah. I got into some real trouble for that. But I know how to film.” David turns back to me and reaches for my camera.

“Okay, well, let’s start over by the trees. It’ll make a nice background. Come on, everybody!” I lead the way to the farthest section of Gran’s property.

To begin, I read the first line of the PSA in front of everyone as an example. I try to sound as natural as possible, while adding a little dramatic flair. I think it works, but the Vet Volunteers just kind of stare at me.

But that’s ok. It’s a simple PSA. Each of us has just one line of our own, and then we’ll all read the last line in unison. Except for David, of course, since he’s filming. Easy, right?

Except we can’t seem to speak in unison.

And then David and Josh get a case of the giggles and Josh can’t say his line at all, and David can’t hold the camera straight while he laughs at Josh.

“I’m not so sure that this is working,” Maggie says. “How many more times do we have to do it?”

“Should we have some kind of rehearsal?” Jules asks.

“I didn’t think this would be too difficult,” I say. “David, let me see what you’ve got so far.”

David hands me my camera and I replay our attempts. The sound isn’t great. We should shoot closer. The last take is too shaky to even consider, but even the first two tries seem jittery somehow. Then I see why.

“Sunita! You’re wearing stripes,” I say.

“Um, yeah,” Sunita replies, looking down at her shirt.

“Stripes dance all over and shimmer on camera.”

Sunita looks at me like she’s never seen me before.

“You can’t wear stripes on camera,” I say. “Oh, and everybody, for the next time we shoot, wear
solid colors, but not white or black. White draws too much attention, and black is hard to light. Jewel tones like ruby and emerald are the best. Stripes are out.” I look over at Sunita. She shrugs.

“Also,” I continue, “small and intricate designs are hard for the camera to read. Pastel shirts are fine, and the color blue is always good on TV. Don’t wear jewelry that moves or makes noise. The microphone might pick it up. Dress simply. Oh, and no words or logos on your shirts. We don’t want people reading your shirt instead of paying attention to our message!”

“Who knew when we got dressed today that we had to dress
for the camera
?” Maggie sighs. I make a mental note to help her pick out an outfit for next time. I’ll probably have to lend her some of my clothes.

Gran calls to us from the back porch. “Do you kids want some lemonade?” She jiggles the glass in her hand. “I have a pitcher inside.”

“We don’t have time for a break!” I yell back. “We’ll lose the light.”

“Actually, Josh and I really have to get going,” Jules says hesitantly.

“Me too,” Brenna agrees. “We’ve had a long day.”

“But what a great day!” Sunita says. “We found the antifreeze spill.”

“But we don’t have a single take that we can use yet. We need to go through it a few more times.” I look at my friends. I can’t believe that everyone is giving up so soon. The public needs to see these PSAs. And my mother needs to see them. She needs to see that what I’m doing is interesting, too.

“We’ll get it right, Zoe. Let us know what time you want us next Saturday,” Brenna says, tugging on her jacket.

“Next Saturday?”

“Spring break is over. We all have school tomorrow,” Brenna explains. “Saturday is the soonest I can work on this again.”

“Me too,” Sunita says. “There’s always extra homework when we get back from vacation.”

Everyone is leaving, and we hardly got anywhere. Maggie walks with Brenna and pretends to dribble and shoot an imaginary basketball as she goes. Josh, Jules, David, and Sunita start heading back to the house, too. I feel miserable. I thought the PSAs were such a great idea, but everything is going wrong, and now we can’t work on them for almost a whole week.

“David,” Gran calls, “we should talk before you go.” Her voice doesn’t give much away, but she certainly didn’t sound cheery. She turns and
goes back into the house and—most likely—through to the clinic.

I look over at David. He is pale.

“Want me to come with you?” I ask. I am relieved when he nods. I don’t know what Gran is about to tell him, but I think he could use a friend right now.

We walk back to the house in near silence. David usually tells a joke a minute, and he never just walks. David is a stone-kicker, a runner, a jump-around-like-a-baboon kind of guy. The fact that he’s quietly walking tells me he is really nervous about Rover.

Maggie catches up with us in the house after saying good-bye to the others. She gently punches David in the shoulder. I know it’s her way of telling him that she is there for him, too. The three of us enter the clinic together.

Gran is sitting on one of the high stools beside the cages in the recovery room and motions for David to do the same. Maggie and I stay standing. Gran’s mouth is a straight line, but her eyes look soft. I am so nervous. What must David feel?

Finally, she begins. “I called your mom while you were all filming out back. I wanted to explain Rover’s situation to her first and get some permissions.”

Gran clears her throat. “David, Rover is a sick cat. He does not have antifreeze poisoning. But his condition is serious.”

David tries to ask a question but does not get it out. Gran patiently waits, but then David just closes his mouth and looks out through his shaggy hair. She continues. “Rover has acute feline pancreatitis. I am treating him with plasma and I believe he will get better. But this is life-threatening, and we won’t know how well he will respond to the treatment for a few more days.”

David swallows. “How did he get it?” he manages to ask.

“It’s hard to say,” Gran answers. “Rover was a stray. There is so much that could have happened to him before you adopted him. Infection, insecticide exposure, a high-fat diet, trauma—a big fall, perhaps. It’s likely we’ll never know how he contracted this.”

David nods.

Gran opens Rover’s cage. Rover is hooked up to tubes and bags. “This is the plasma,” she says, pointing to a large plastic IV bag. “I have him on a sedative because I need to give him the plasma without him pulling out the IV lines—as you all well know.” She looks around at us. “And because
feline pancreatitis is painful. Rover will heal faster if he is not in so much pain.”

“Is that why he wasn’t frisky anymore?” David asks.

“That’s one reason. The other reason is that his organs were not working properly and he could not convert his food to energy.” Gran rubs a finger along Rover’s forehead and looks at David. “You know we’ll take good care of him,” she says. “Come over before school in the morning and help me with his lines. We’ll know soon how he’s going to do.”

David nods again. “Thanks, Dr. Mac. See you in the morning.” He waves good-bye to Maggie and me and crosses the recovery room floor. I’ve never seen him walk so slowly. The clinic feels much emptier as the door swings shut behind him.

“I’m going back in the house,” I tell Maggie and Gran.

Gran wheels the full dirty linen cans toward the big washing machine. “Sure, Zoe, go on ahead. I won’t be long.”

“I’ll help Gran get the laundry going,” Maggie says. “Can you feed Sherlock for me?”

“No problem.”

I walk down the hall and back into Gran’s house. Oh. I suppose I should start thinking of it as my house, too. Sherlock gets to his feet when
he sees me reach in the cupboard for his food. Scooping out the kibble makes me miss Sneakers even more. Sneakers thinks everything is a game, and he always gets so excited when it is time for his dinner. His tail wags like crazy and he jumps up and down and barks. Sherlock is much lazier. I watch as the basset hound wolfs his food down and then laps up his water, his tags jingling against the side of his bowl. For some reason, those jingling tags make me so sad. I wish I was listening to Sneakers’s jingling tags with my mom in my home in California.

I decide to go to my room to see if Mom sent me an email.

She has, but it’s another short one.