Pinch Hit by Tim Green Page B

hoped it so much that his chest ached, and that made it too scary to talk about.
    A knock on the dressing room door saved him.
    â€œCome in,” McKenna said.
    The makeup artist peeked her head in and asked if Sam was ready.
    â€œSure,” he said.
    The makeup artist went to the counter in front of the brightly lit mirror and began unpacking a box that looked to Sam like it should hold fishing lures. When she had everything out and ready, she turned and looked from Sam to the barber chair in front of her. “Okay?”
    Sam looked at McKenna, who angled her head toward the chair.
    â€œSure.” Sam sat down.
    The makeup artist looked at Sam’s face in the mirror and began to apply some makeup with a soft round pad.
    â€œUm, Trevor,” she said as she dabbed at the back of his neck, “I think there’s something… I guess something wrong … with your birthmark.”

32
SAM
    â€œI don’t think you should be asking Trevor about his birthmark,” McKenna said, blurting out the words and scowling at the makeup artist.
    The artist’s face turned red. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it looks like it might be changing. Maybe he should have a doctor look at it.”
    McKenna hesitated a beat, then said, “He is having a doctor look at it. That’s why it’s not polite. He doesn’t want to talk about it, right, Trevor?”
    Sam wasn’t used to being bold with people, but he understood that McKenna was trying to distract the woman so she might not realize that the birthmark wasn’t the only thing that was different. He touched the back of his neck and did his best to sound offended. “No, I really don’t want to talk about it.”
    The artist’s back went rigid and she chewed on her lower lip, seeming to consider whether or not to get into a verbal battle with McKenna. Finally, she huffed and shook her head and continued with the makeup, brushing it on with quick little strokes. “Fine.”
    Sam let the woman finish her job. Just as she finished, a knock at the door was followed by several people from wardrobe, who helped him into a suit of samurai battle armor. There was so much activity, Sam almost forgot to be nervous. With every passing minute, it seemed the number of people orbiting him grew. Finally, they had him ready and he walked in the midst of the small crowd toward the set.
    Through it all, McKenna stayed by his side, smiling and nodding with encouragement. Before he knew it, Sam stood on a rock cliff with a huge green screen as the backdrop. A young Asian woman was already on her spot. Pierce Everette, the director, quickly appeared and put an arm around both Sam and the beautiful woman who Sam knew was his mother in the movie.
    â€œOkay, Trevor, this is the scene where Kiku tells you who your father is. As you listen, the mystery of your entire life is finally answered. Then you hear horse hoofs. You both look. You’re shocked. You hit your line. The two of you clasp hands, and you jump.”
    Sam looked over the edge of the cliff at the foam mat waiting not more than two feet below. He worked up his courage and put as much emotion into his voice as he could muster. “Hurry, or they’ll kill us.”
    The director gave Sam a strange look, then smiled. “That’s funny, Trevor. Obviously, you’ll put some emotion into it.”
    Sam felt his jaw go slack. He put a hand to his mouth and fought to keep his stomach from turning inside out.
    â€œOkay, we all set?” the director asked.
    Kiku nodded and Sam, unable to think of anything else, did the same. The flurry of activity made his head spin, but all Sam could do was stare at the actor named Kiku. Her oval face seemed to float in the frame of her long black hair, and she stared intently at Sam.
    Someone said something about the scene number and the take, held up a digital clapper board, and clacked it shut.
    The director shouted,