Free For Those Who Dream Monsters by Anna Taborska

please!”
    “Hold it like you mean it!”
    “What?”
    “The
machete! Hold it like you mean it!” They’d been rehearsing for almost an hour
and the camera still wasn’t rolling. Eli was beginning to lose his patience and
Sylvia was getting increasingly agitated – to the point where she could no
longer remember the couple of lines she’d been reciting in a startlingly wooden
and inappropriate fashion when they’d first started.
    “But
it’s not real!”
    “Of
course it’s not real. It’s a prop!” Eli was flabbergasted, and relieved that
Mark had gone back to the production office and was not here to witness their
disastrous walk-through.
    “How
can I hold it like I mean it if it’s not real?”
    “It’s
called acting,” the Director of Photography hissed under his breath, loud
enough for Sylvia to hear.
    “You
fuck!” Sylvia glowered at Graham, her face reddening with rage. Eli could swear
that the woman’s already frizzy hair was standing on end like that on an
enraged, bristling cat.
    “Good!”
he bellowed. “Now use that anger, grab the machete and go for Clive.” Clive
looked at Eli pleadingly, his eyes those of a startled deer. Sylvia made a move
towards the plastic machete. “Wait!” shouted Eli. “Wait for Andrea to call it!
We’ll go for a take… Andrea!”
    “Quiet
please, we’re going for a…” But it was too late. Screaming like a banshee,
Sylvia grabbed the machete and ran.
    “Roll
camera!” Eli managed to shout, but Sylvia raced past the cowering Clive and
headed straight for the Director of Photography, knocking over the monitor in
the process. The camera operator tried to pan the camera after Sylvia, while
Graham raised his arms to fend off the attack, yelling for someone to get her
off him. Andrea ran at Sylvia, but Eli stayed her with a hand gesture. He
watched with keen interest for a couple of seconds as Sylvia pelted the
Director of Photography with the plastic prop, before finally relenting.
    “Cut!”
he shouted. Sylvia stopped – the result of running out of steam rather than
anything Eli had said. “Good!” cried Eli. Graham stormed out of the room,
cursing. The remaining crew stood in stunned silence.
    “Put
the prop down, Wendy,” Marty whispered to Bob, with a dry smile. Eli came up to
Sylvia, removed the machete from her hand and led her to the side.
    “That
wasn’t bad,” he told her. But I have two directions for you. One: you wait
until I say ‘Action!’ And two: Clive…” Clive glanced over on hearing his name,
his face positively ashen. “You go for Clive – your fellow actor, not for my
Director of Photography. Other than that, you do everything the same. Do you
understand?”
    “Yes,
Eli.”
    “Good…
Andrea!” The First A.D. turned her attention away from the monitor that the
camera assistant had managed to reconnect.
    “Yes,
Eli?”
    “Get
someone to fetch the Director of Photography and then call a take.”
    “No, no, no! No !” Eli leapt from his director’s chair. “What did I tell
you?”
    “What?”
barked Sylvia.
    “I
told you to do everything the same as before!”
    “I
am!”
    “No,
you’re not! You’re not waiting until I say ‘Action!’ and you’re holding it like
it’s a limp kipper… Here, look…” Eli took the prop from Sylvia and acted out
the scene with Clive. “That’s how you do it… Do you think you can do that,
Sylvia?”
    “Yes,
Eli.” Eli was making her look bad in front of the crew and Sylvia was feeling
increasingly resentful. Normally she wouldn’t let anyone talk to her like that,
but there was something about the man that made her – and everyone else on set,
it seemed – want to please him. Sylvia figured it must be something to do with
being the Director. Nevertheless, she just couldn’t see what all the fuss was
about. She was doing what Eli told her – most of it, at any rate. Okay, so
sometimes she forgot to wait until he said ‘Action’, but she was waving the
pathetic