Well, this is a new fiction short-story I just wrote. I tried English for this one. Not easy! Enjoy if you can! Saludos. Adrián PD: como me han preguntado dejo asentado que por ahora no tengo hijos, sí una gata, tres peces, varios árboles de palta -aguacate- en mi balcón, un par de limoneros, un pomelo y un naranjo.
The Film Market Horror Story
Mario, a round man, forty years old, is seated in the hall´s sofa of the cold building. Nothing better than a cold building for a Film Industry Market, he thinks. He has a careless beard. By his side, his daughter Lucy, a flat twelve years old child, looks at the floor. Mario observes with avidity to the traffic of executives speaking quick and shaking their hands as if the time flew. And time really flies and there is not much more to negotiate a good arrangement, not much more to find an investor for his movie. It was the movie of his life. An horror one, of course.
Mario carry in his shirt pocket a piece of paper with his movie budget in dollars. So he can remember it easily.
After all, he had been an assistant director so many years. He deserve his own movie. Dark tobacco, dark chocolate, nights with his eyes wide open writing the script. The movies he worked as an assistant director were not better than the one he wrote.
Lucy is so bother that she takes a half-minute nap.
The executives are not coming closer to avoid Mario intentions. Sometimes they look to Lucy without mercy. For them, Lucy was one more press junket like those that rest in the tables.
She is disguised as a zombie. Her make-up allows to see some false teeth as if the skin of her cheek has fallen and her denture it´s exposed, as if the worms had eaten her face. Partly, she hides her hands among the legs because she has prosthesis of long, dirty fingernails. And their schoolgirl shirt is bloodstained with a coloring mixture that she herself prepared.
Upset, she opens her eyes, because she listens hurry men steps. It is because that well known actor is around, her father says. She has white contact lenses. So their eyes are white. Like dead people eyes, although she had never seen a dead corpse.
Mario takes the hands of Lucy and, along with his red notebook, drags her until the mid of the hall.
He is standing in front of two producers. He speaks quick of his movie project and points to his daughter so they can see the beauty of her horrid make up.
One of the executives laughs. The other shakes the hand of Lucy. Then both executives leave. Mario lowers his shoulders, hopeless.
Mario and Lucy are sitting in the hall´s sofa. She becomes drowsy again. Mario observes that two women come directly toward them. He hits her daughter in the back, so that she raises her body again and take a scary glance with her white eyes to the fine ladies. The two women continue walking toward the bathroom. They do not even notice Lucy.
A waitress comes and offers her a coffee. Lucy doesn’t like coffee. His father tells the waitress that she is a child. And that childs do not drink coffee. Mario had promised Lucy a big frapuccino. Lucy could not drink nothing, anyway, because she would ruin her zombi make-up. Although she thinks that using a straw could solve the problem. She asks for a Cherry Coke. But there were not straws. Mario ends drinking the Coke.
Another executive walks towards the sofa. Mario slaps Lucía´s head. She must seem scary and dangerous to the executive. The executive smiles. Lucy looks to her father with her white eyes.
–You are not getting anything with this.
–What do you know about marketing?
–You neither know anything about it, Daddy.
–We have to capture their attention.
–You are crazy, mama always said that… And she is right!
Mario is confused.
–What are you saying? I paid for your private school. I was not raised like you in a golden cradle.
–In a golden coffin, you might said.
–I had only two toys in my whole life. And one was broken. You have an Ipad.
–An old one.
–Shut your mouth, for god sake. I paid you a very good school.
–But now I´m going to a cheap one.
Mario closes his eyes, grief-striken.
–Is just for a while, soon as I can make this movie, I will change you to a better school. And, if you love your mother so much move with her!
–She says you are a violent man. A passive aggressive man.
Mario lowers his eyes. Lucy cries. The contact lenses become moist. A rainbow is formed in her white eyeballs, provoked by the lights that reaches her face. Mario looks at her.
–¿Are you comfortable with those lenses?
Lucy looks at him, annoyed.
–You are so selfish.
–Please, hurry, put a mean face because the producer of The Horror´s House is coming.
–No! I´m not a clown.
–Then forget the frapuccino. You are a zombie, not a clown. You watch all day that piece of crap series and you don´t know what a zombi looks like?
–The series is not ONLY about zombies.
–Neither does my movie.
–Well, someone is looking at you, Mr. Marketing.
A young woman and a man with a hat are looking at Mario.
He looks like he is going to cry. On the other hand, Lucía, seems stronger.
–You are crying for that whore?
–We were like a family again, Lucy. She was my partner. We worked together. We watched movies together and later talked about those movies. A good talk.
–You slept with her also. You showered with her. And so what? She is not the woman you think she was. Mommy was not for you, but this one was like a parasite.
–What do you know about that?
–I went to therapy, don´t you remember. At first, I missed her also. But she was too young for you.
–You miss her?
–Before. Not now.
Lucy stops looking at her father. She rises her head and looks at the line of horizon in her memory.
–But she is not what you believe she is. You see yourself when you look at her. It´s you who likes those movie. Not her!
–That was what the therapist told you?
–Anyway, I always thought it.
–Look at that hat. She let me for this snobby director.
Mario’s eyes shines with determination.
–Wait for me.
Mario walks now towards the young lady that continues speaking with two executives. Lucy observes with concern that her father is flushed with fury. The woman looks at him with clear disgust. The two executives go back some steps. The man with a hat pushes his father. Mario responds and both begin struggling. The man with a hat knocks Mario´s face. Lucy doesn’t know what to do. The two executives separate them. Her father is facing them with his nose bleeding. Other two men retain the man with a hat, that wants to hit Mario´s face again.
–I will kill him. He is a women offender. I will kill you. Piece of shit!
Lucy wants to cry but she can´t. The man gets rid of the two executives and walks toward Mario again. Lucy, in two seconds, runs and gets in the way. She is standing between her father and the man with the hat.
Lucy looks down. Her long hair is covering her face. The contact lenses hurt her. That makes her skin face wrinkle. In their imagination the seats, the tables, the coffee machine, the entire hall, is destroyed by her power. But in her space and time she opens the white eyes and looks with a fierce face to the man with a hat.
Lucy leans her head as if she was a television zombie and her neck was not completely well. In fact, she was stressed by the whole situation.
Her father walks away to clean his nose with napkins. The young woman and the man with a hat points out a table with bottle of wines and quickly disappears. The two executives walks toward Lucy.
Mario throws the stained napkins in a basket. He returns with his broken nose. Lucy leans more the head and bend her knees.
–It´s Lucy, my beloved daughter–says Mario to the two men, with pride–. We have a great horror movie… A high concept one.
The producers don’t know what to answer. They wait for Mario, that goes back to the sofa and returns quickly with his red notebook.
Meanwhile, Lucy takes off her white contact lenses, and she looks toward her father. Her eyes are blue. A deep, defiant blue.
by Adrián Gastón Fares