Free Sabotage on the Set by Joan Lowery Nixon Page B

what Sean earns will go into his college fund.”
    Sean looked at his father and gulped. There went his dreams of becoming a big-time spender. “Uh—okay, Dad,” Sean said.
    “All right,” Mrs. Quinn said. “If you think it’s the right thing to do, John, then I’ll agree.”
    The telephone rang, and Sean jumped, dropping a glob of lasagna onto his lap.
    Mrs. Quinn answered and in a few moments said, “Carol Carter? Oh, yes. The casting director. Sean said you’d call.”
    Everyone at the table grew silent, listening intently. But Sean squirmed and fidgeted while his mother asked one question after another. Finally, she said, “Very well. We’ll have him there on time.”
    Sean gave a humongous sigh and blissfully slid down in his chair.
    “The entire junior high basketball team will be extras?” Mrs. Quinn asked, then said, “Yes, if Brian would like to work as an extra, we’ll sign for him, too.”
    Brian and Sam grinned at each other and slapped a high five. “Tiffany was right,” Brian said. “She told me they were going to surround Dakota Wayne with guys taller than he is.”
    “Who’s Tiffany?” Mr. Quinn asked.
    Brian winced. “Uh, just a girl,” he said.
    As Mrs. Quinn finished the conversation and hung up the phone, Sean and Brian pelted her with questions.
    “When do they start filming the movie?”
    “Do extras get paid, too?”
    “What was all that stuff about the basketball team?”
    “Dad said two or three weeks. Do we have to go to school at all?”
    Mrs. Quinn laughed and waved her hands for quiet. “Sam, you might as well get in on all this,” she said. “You’re on the basketball team, so you and Brian and the others are going to be extras, if your parents give permission. And, yes. Extras get paid by the day.”
    “How much?” Sam asked.
    “You’ll have to find that out from your parents,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Carol Carter will be telephoning them this evening.”
    Sam scrambled to his feet. “Please excuse me, and thanks for dinner, Mrs. Quinn. I’d stay and help with the dishes, but … uh … you know.”
    Sean yelled after him, “Oh, yeah? When did you ever help with the dishes?” But Sam had already shot out the back door and was on the way to his house, next door.
    Mr. Quinn chuckled. “Sam seems to have forgotten all about that so-called jinx.”
    “Sam was just trying to scare Sean,” Brian said.
    Mrs. Quinn sighed. “I wish Sam wouldn’t always come up with those awful, scary stories,” she said.
    “Aw, Mom,” Sean said. “I’m not scared of any old jinx.” But even though he tried to sound brave, he felt cold prickles up his backbone. He’d never run into a jinx before, and he wasn’t sure he knew how to handle it.
    The next morning, as he entered his fourth-grade class, Sean stopped worrying about the movie jinx. He had his own horrible, scary jinx—Debbie Jean Parker.
    She waved a paper in his face and said, “Sign here, and you can be a member of the Redoaks Dakota Wayne Fan Club. I’m the president, of course.”
    “Who elected you?” Sean asked.
    “I elected myself.” Debbie Jean held out her arms and tried a ballet twirl, nearly falling into the nearest desk. She caught her balance, shrugged, and said proudly, “I was signed as one of the extras. You know what that means, don’t you?”
    “The casting director lost her glasses,” Sean said.
    Debbie Jean ignored him and burbled, “It means that all of Hollywood will see my face and talent on the screen. I’ll be discovered and made a star!”
    “Oh, yuck,” Sean said.
    “And I’ll actually get to meet Dakota Wayne!”
    The bell rang, and Mrs. Jackson clapped her hands. “Take your seats, boys and girls. I know you’re all excited about the movie that’s going to be filmed here—especially those of you who are going to be in it—but we’ve got lots of work to do. It’s time to get busy.”
    Sean couldn’t resist temptation. As Debbie Jean was turning to go to her