Up & Out by Ariella Papa Page B

was making everything very hazy.
    Don Beckford is creating quite a ruckus about the size of Gopher’s teeth on his plush toy. Delores continues referencing anecdotes from her old job. She has a tendency to talk a lot without really going anywhere. She reminds me of one of those tops that just goes when you pull the string. She lets it “slip” that she went to Harvard.
    Don, who is sitting next to me, elbows me so I would read a note he wrote on his production calendar. “Where’s she from?”
    I write, “A forest. Germany.”
    He laughs and I write, “Seriously.”
    “I think we should lose the glasses,” Delores says to the designer. I tune back in.
    “We can’t lose the glasses,” I say. “They’re Esme’s trademark.”
    “I just think kids like to see characters’ faces.” Where is she getting this from? And why does she feel she can speak with authority about what kids want?
    “I think the glasses came out fantastic,” Carl, the head of Licensing, says.
    “Well, I’m not saying that they didn’t. I’m just not sure they’re working for the brand.”
    “It’s a kids’ brand. Kids wear glasses,” I say, feeling Don kick me under the table. Here we go again: “And they loved it in the focus groups.”
    “Well, we’ll have to make a decision about this ASAP,” Delores says. I think one had been made. “For now, let’s talk about the game tie-in.”
     
    After the meeting, Don pulls me aside. “That didn’t have to be that long. I asked about her and no one knows who she is.”
    “She’s from abroad.”
    “She’s full of shit and she confuses everyone. I’ve had hit shows. I’m not going to deal.” I notice that when someone newcomes around, everyone has to justify their jobs. “But watch yourself.”
    “Why?”
    “She asked me about your other show experience when I went in for my meeting with her.”
    “Why would she ask you?”
    “I don’t know.” I’m not sure I can trust Don. “I told her that everyone thought you did a really great job and Esme was your creation. And it’s true.”
    “Well, thanks. What did she say?”
    “Nothing, she went off on some rant about Gopher’s curriculum. They expect kids to learn lessons about morality from a talking gopher.”
    “How’s Jordan doing?”
    “So far, so good. It’s to be expected. He’s too much of a nobody to be a prima donna.”
    “Right.”
    “No offense.” I shrug. I hated Jordan after the way he treated Lauryn, but I felt a little bit protective of him. Kids’ TV is tough business. It chews people up and spits them out. “Anyway, make sure you hold your ground.”
    “Okay, thanks.”
    That doesn’t make me feel confident. Neither does John standing at my office door holding an e-mail in his hands.
    “What is this?” I take it from him. It’s a long-winded e-mail from Delores with notes from the tenth and eleventh episodes John had been animating.
    “When did she even see this?”
    “She asked for it. I gave it to her. Notice how every change she wants is ASAP. And the very last one is very ASAP.”
    “I see she put that one in bold.” I smile at him, but he isn’t having it. I rarely see him get upset, but he certainly is right now.
    “Who am I supposed to be listening to? You or her?”
    “Well, I’ll talk to her about them and get back to you. ASAP.” At last, he smiles.
    I’m beginning to dread this walk down the hall. I knock. “Come in.”
    Delores is a flurry of activity. She is giddy (with power?) and speaking in a baby voice. I imagine this is to prove her creativity.
    “Hey, I see you made some notes on a couple of the Esme scripts,” I say, trying to sound firm but nonthreatening. I keep thinking of what Kathy said. I don’t want to believe women can really be so threatened by other women.
    “Yeah, I had a couple of very significant concerns that you seemed to have overlooked.”
    “I haven’t had time to check out those scripts.” Delores takes her glasses off and rises to