cheques for The Green Show —” (He rarely got the projects’ titles right.) “Here’s from the movie house. These are from that documentary about the bears—” Otters, thought Stefan. “And, um, here’s the other ones.” These were in a sealed envelope. David pushed it across to Stefan as if it were something old and dead. Ah, the porn .
“Now,” said David, lacing his hands together and leaning forward as Stefan put the various papers into his jacket pocket. David pushed his glasses up his squashed tomato of a nose. “You seem to be on an ambitious streak lately. I know for the past several years you’ve told me you only wanted to do The Green Show , and I respected that. But since you’ve been taking on all these other jobs lately, I thought you might be interested in something bigger.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I really don’t think I could do any more than I’m doing now.”
“I didn’t say ‘more’, Stefan, I said ‘bigger.” David cleared his throat. “I put your demo in for a new Saturday morning cartoon. This is a sure thing, this show. It’s one of those computer cartoons, a tie-in with a product that’s been a top-seller for two years now. You’re up for the voice of a new lead character, and you’ve got a really good shot at it. He’s—I dunno, some kind of a robot or something. It’s called—” he checked a piece of paper in Stefan’s file “— Machine Marines . What do you think?”
“When would I have time to do this?”
“Stefan, you’re not hearing me. This job would pay, and pay good. You wouldn’t have to do anything else.”
“Oh.” Stefan looked out the window at the backyard. Snow was starting to fall from the newsprint sky, covering the hydro wires, the beige lawn, and the rusted swing-set. “Well.”
“Of course, you’d need to move to LA.”
“Oh.” Stefan’s eyebrows took flight.
David smiled. “Great, isn’t it?”
“Uh, yeah. That is great. Thanks for setting that up, David. I don’t know, though. I had some other plans. There was this project—“ He trailed off, looking at the lifeless faces on the wall.
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that—I’ve got a whole bunch of messages for you here from a woman named Helen.” He dug through a drawer and pulled out a stack of little yellow memo sheets. “She really wants to talk to you.” He read the notes. “Sets, casting, dates, venues, and something about funding. She was getting pretty pushy with Hester, but we know you don’t take phone calls.”
“Can’t.”
“Right,” said David, with no idea what Stefan meant. “Anyway, you should get in touch with her.”
“Yeah, I will. Look, David, I should get going. I’ve got to go meet some friends. Do you mind if I think about that offer for a few days?”
“Sure, that’s fine,” said David in a tone suggesting it was not fine. “Whatever you want.”
“Thanks. I appreciate all you’re doing for me.” He shook his agent’s hand and said goodbye to Hester on the way out. Large flakes of snow hit his face as he walked. Some melted in his hair and ran down his neck. He stopped walking: he forgot where he was supposed to go next.
~
Stefan closed his eyes on the dance floor and covered his ears. Coloured lights penetrated his eyelids and the beat pounded through his hands. He stood there, deliriously happy. His friends surrounded him, bumping into him from time to time as they danced.
He hadn’t seen them in weeks, he was so busy or so tired. He knew he couldn’t drink this much every night, and lots of times his gang’s attempts at big nights out turned into duds. Still, he wondered if there was some way to stay in this moment forever.
Somebody stumbled into him, then clapped him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes, and found his friends laughing, dancing in a circle around him.
~
Stefan ran a hand through his drooping hair and smacked his lips. His mouth tasted horrible. Allen offered him breakfast, but he declined,
“Now,” said David, lacing his hands together and leaning forward as Stefan put the various papers into his jacket pocket. David pushed his glasses up his squashed tomato of a nose. “You seem to be on an ambitious streak lately. I know for the past several years you’ve told me you only wanted to do The Green Show , and I respected that. But since you’ve been taking on all these other jobs lately, I thought you might be interested in something bigger.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I really don’t think I could do any more than I’m doing now.”
“I didn’t say ‘more’, Stefan, I said ‘bigger.” David cleared his throat. “I put your demo in for a new Saturday morning cartoon. This is a sure thing, this show. It’s one of those computer cartoons, a tie-in with a product that’s been a top-seller for two years now. You’re up for the voice of a new lead character, and you’ve got a really good shot at it. He’s—I dunno, some kind of a robot or something. It’s called—” he checked a piece of paper in Stefan’s file “— Machine Marines . What do you think?”
“When would I have time to do this?”
“Stefan, you’re not hearing me. This job would pay, and pay good. You wouldn’t have to do anything else.”
“Oh.” Stefan looked out the window at the backyard. Snow was starting to fall from the newsprint sky, covering the hydro wires, the beige lawn, and the rusted swing-set. “Well.”
“Of course, you’d need to move to LA.”
“Oh.” Stefan’s eyebrows took flight.
David smiled. “Great, isn’t it?”
“Uh, yeah. That is great. Thanks for setting that up, David. I don’t know, though. I had some other plans. There was this project—“ He trailed off, looking at the lifeless faces on the wall.
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that—I’ve got a whole bunch of messages for you here from a woman named Helen.” He dug through a drawer and pulled out a stack of little yellow memo sheets. “She really wants to talk to you.” He read the notes. “Sets, casting, dates, venues, and something about funding. She was getting pretty pushy with Hester, but we know you don’t take phone calls.”
“Can’t.”
“Right,” said David, with no idea what Stefan meant. “Anyway, you should get in touch with her.”
“Yeah, I will. Look, David, I should get going. I’ve got to go meet some friends. Do you mind if I think about that offer for a few days?”
“Sure, that’s fine,” said David in a tone suggesting it was not fine. “Whatever you want.”
“Thanks. I appreciate all you’re doing for me.” He shook his agent’s hand and said goodbye to Hester on the way out. Large flakes of snow hit his face as he walked. Some melted in his hair and ran down his neck. He stopped walking: he forgot where he was supposed to go next.
~
Stefan closed his eyes on the dance floor and covered his ears. Coloured lights penetrated his eyelids and the beat pounded through his hands. He stood there, deliriously happy. His friends surrounded him, bumping into him from time to time as they danced.
He hadn’t seen them in weeks, he was so busy or so tired. He knew he couldn’t drink this much every night, and lots of times his gang’s attempts at big nights out turned into duds. Still, he wondered if there was some way to stay in this moment forever.
Somebody stumbled into him, then clapped him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes, and found his friends laughing, dancing in a circle around him.
~
Stefan ran a hand through his drooping hair and smacked his lips. His mouth tasted horrible. Allen offered him breakfast, but he declined,
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