AUSTRALIAN ADVENTURES

Chapter 2: Life and Scripts

"How can anyone ever truly feel...safe...ever again?" he wondered.

"They can't," she affirmed, "which was probably the point of it all."

"She is cruel then?"

Phyllis shrugged, "She lives in Pennsylvania. It is winter. What can one expect?"
"But...but...DEATH?" he gasped.

She shrugged again. "There are no heating ducts in the kitchen nor in the bathroom."

"Ah, well," he sighed, "then that explains it."
**************
Finally morning arrived, the venomous spiders and snakes stirred, the yook leaves rustled, Hando scratched his armpit. Himself awoke, made his way carefully through the empty beer bottles, and examined his bloodshot eyes in the bathroom mirror. Then drying the cold water he splashed on his face, he stood there, looking at his reflection, remembering being Maximus last night, recalling the familiar weight of the armor, the particular accent he'd used.

 

 

He smiled. There was one more bit of dialog that came to mind, dialog that he would need for this morning's task. "Tell them their General lives. TELL them!" A good task, worth doing well. Not that it went all that well for poor, faithful Cicero. Himself rubbed his hands together, feeling once again the soft, smooth leather of the small pouch Cicero had placed in them in that "tell them" scene. The camera had lingered on his hands then, frame after frame showing the gentle movement of his fingers on the regained possession... the one possession in all the world that still had value, still meant something...the rubbing of his thumbpad over a hard lump pressing up within the pouch as he walked, the promise the feel of that brought that what lay within would soon grace his sight once more.

 

He looked in the mirror again, blinking to return from that Roman street to the Australian caravan. He hadn't stopped for a while to tune in in any great depth to how much of the filming of Gladiator still remained within him. Ecuador, Princeton, Mexico, Toronto...all lay now between him and that, yet if he paused he could still feel the sweat trickle down his neck in that cauldron of heat that had been the arena set. He smiled wryly. He was glad he had not lost the General.

 

He became aware that Phyllis was watching him. "Running lines?" she asked.

"Yup," he replied, not explaining the Maximosity of them, though.

A little smile played at the corners of her mouth. Did he really not know how well she knew him? "Planning, are we, on telling the cast that their General lives?"

He chuckled, shaking his head in wonderment as he put his arms about her, pulling her close. A different thought must have taken precedence suddenly because she felt him stiffen a bit.

"Himself?"

"Ah," he sighed, "I have a bit of unpleasantry to tell them as well as the
good news." She cocked an eyebrow, waiting. "Jocelyn," he explained. "She wants them gone."

"Can you blame her?" Phyllis asked, her eyes laughing. "After all," she continued, "they've built three fences around the set to keep, um, undesirables out....and all the time the real problems are right there on the edge of your scenes."

"I guess I could ship the lot of them back off to Nana Glen," he speculated.

"Well, they are adults, you know...except for maybe Ando. Don't you think they should have a say in the matter?"

His eyes widened. "And have them running amok throughout Australia without.. ME?" he gasped.

"True," she nodded in agreement. "It is a scary concept."

"'Scary' hardly does it justice," he sighed. "I guess I should go round 'em up."
 

"Need any help girding your loins?" she asked playfully.

Perhaps he SHOULD have let her help. Sometimes rounding up the half a hundred cast was so much harder than his 698 head of cattle. Much noisier, too. And then there was Cort and Sue. They didn't even have any idea there had been death in the camp. He had had to practically break in the door of their caravan as they only answered with softly muffled little giggles when he knocked repeatedly. All this time and the vest buttons were STILL entangled in the bodice lace lining? It didn't seem likely all that much effort had been truly put into their removal. He had to admit, though, as he stood there, hands on his hips, staring down at them, they did look remarkably worn out. And, yet, it was amazing how quickly they moved when he approached with a button-disconnector more often used in ways quite loathed by the more bullish amongst his herd.

Finally, his back already triangulated with the sweat of the effort, he had most of them corralled after a fashion in the central area of the caravan park. He had deliberately left the occupants of two particular caravans alone for the time being. He took off his tattered hat to wipe his brow, but the others presumed he was getting ready to say a memorial word for the dearly departed...and for Sid, too. Heads bowed. Well, not Hando's, of course. He was never any good at that sort of thing. Himself looked around at his people. He smiled at them affectionately. Surely many of them were rascals, but he loved them all. Then his brow creased. Bud's absence disturbed him greatly and would have to be dealt with in some fashion.

 

Berti stood slightly to one side, looking terribly alone. It had been a long night for her and her pillow was soaked through in that same way her grits looked when she plopped those huge dollops of egg yolk atop them for dinner and the yellow ran down amongst the separate granules in little rivulets.

"Why is everyone so sad?" Sue of the torn bodice lace asked, looking curiously around at her fellows and fellowesses.

Ando narrowed her eyes at the Vile One. "Were you not so shamelessly
bestucked to characters of the cloth, you would know these things."

"Formerly of the cloth," Sue corrected. She batted her eyes at Cort, adding, "My cloth." She then closed her eyes and spat out a vest button which arced through the air toward the young pastoralsheriff who reached out one arm, catching it in that expert way of his in catching single items thrown towards him by unseeing eyes.

"Enough of that!" Himself ordered in a particularly commanding voice he'd just conjured from the combined likes of Jack, Maximus, and his very own self. "First," he continued, "the bad news. Jocelyn has banned all of you from the set."

A little roar of outraged murmurings rose up, at the apex of which hovered the quavering word, "WHY?"

Himself closed his eyes, shaking his head. "You actually ask me THAT?"
 

"But," said Jeffrey, "where shall we go?"

"I know where I'M going!" Berti almost shouted.

"Where?" Sue asked. "Where's she going?"

"After Bud," Ando glared.

"Bud? Where'd Bud go?" Sue wanted to know.

"Into the west," Susan supplied.

Cort's ears perked up. "Why would he go into the west?"

"He just...walked off," Susan explained, "after he killed Joimus."

Cort was appalled. "Why? Why would he kill Joimus?"
 

"She was protecting Sid," Pat added.

Cort laughed harshly.

"No," Pat continued, "it's true. Maximus was inside of Sid's body
and Bud was trying to shoot him because Maximus with Sid inside him was plopping over and Bud thought Sid had grabbed him again and...."

"Wait just a sec!" Sue cried. "What the heck are you guys talking about?"

But Terry interrupted, walking with annsmac over toward Berti. "I'm going with you," he said.

"Me, too!" a voice behind them announced and everyone turned to see Maximus standing in the doorway of Rose's caravan.

"SID!" cried Alex. Maximus laughed.
 

"Did someone ring?" another voice said from a bit more down to the left. Sid and Bunny had just stepped out of their caravan.

"Ack!" cried Pat, holding onto Alex's arm for support.

"Hello, PittyPat," said Joimus, slipping under Maximus' arm and standing on the lower step. "You gots Fwute Wupes?" She smiled, ear to ear. (See: Journey Into Jeopardy... Sid Wonka)

"Well," Himself said, looking down at Phyllis. "So much for the 'their General is alive' scene.”

Thank goodness the cast was so well versed in taking the totally unbelievable in stride. Years of practice and a steady bit of Jiff low-fat peanut butter slipped into their orange juice had had that affect upon them. Himself was proud of them, a feeling he had not had much on the day just passed.

As he stood there watching their happy millings about as they welcomed back their formerly dead cohorts, Jocelyn suddenly drove up, stepped slowly out of her car and walked with heavy steps toward the gathering. "I have news," she said, stopping close to Himself.

"We have had much of that this morning," he remarked, cocking one eyebrow at the director.

"Probably not so strange as mine," she said.

Himself decided it was best not to explain about returns from the dead and all. "What's up?" he asked instead.
 

"We have no script."

His eyes widened then narrowed. "No script? What happened to the script?"

She sighed. "I had every copy of it rounded up last night to protect it from a raiding party of tabloid journalists who were seen creeping about the northernly regions of Gleniffer and...."

 

 

"And?"

"Well, I had them stacked atop the tower to hide them and...."

"AND?"

"Well," she looked up at him, an expression of great distress writ across her features, "they're...gone."

"Gone?"

She nodded. "ALL of them?"

"Every one."

"Hmmmm?" he hummed.

She looked up at him. "Why are you not all that disturbed?"

"I didn't like it."

"What? What didn't you like?"

"The script. It was a lousy script."
 

"I WROTE the script!" she hollered.

"Um, yes," he said softly.

"You didn't like the script??" she repeated, adding, "I liked the script!"

He smiled pleasantly. "I know." But then his eyes left her face and he looked again over his massed people. The day had come when the script of YOOK had failed them. It was this day! How very fortunate, indeed, that the epi storyline was in this exact spot when the news of it had come. He had been about to send them off without him into the trackless deserts of central Australia.

He turned, whirling up Phyllis. "Now we can go!" he shouted. "Now WE can go too!"

Then Teller caught his eye and he set Phyllis back on her feet and walked toward him.Teller had been listening to what Jocelyn had said and his face was quite crestfallen. Himself clapped his shoulder firmly with his right hand, keeping it there as he talked. "Teller, I want you to know that I truly care about you and that if given the opportunity and if the script is ever found again...I promise you that I will be back."

"I...I...can't come...with you...can I?" Teller asked sadly.

Himself shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid not. You are formed more in my mind and heart than you are on film. Until you are fully formed on film, you will have to wait." A tear sparkled in Teller's lower right eyelid and Himself looked at him affectionately. "I tell you what," he said brightly, trying to cheer him up, "what if you go back to Nana Glen and stay with Mum and the family?"

"Could I DO that?" Teller asked wonderingly.

"Sure! Mum would love it!"

Lucilla stepped forward then. "May I go with him?" she asked softly. "He's why I came to New South Wales, you know."

Himself turned his smile onto the petite woman. "Of course," he said, understanding completely.

There were 3 other women very, very affected by the news. They had been standing in their own small group near a caravan. Rose had been almost unable to hold back her tears when it seemed Aubrey would be leaving and she must stay to work on the film. Mary, too, had known that she would have to stay. Laura had entertained some hope that mayhap Himself would decide the cast would need some legal guardianship and he would ask her to accompany them...but she had had no real assurance of that yet. Now that the script had disappeared, they were suddenly free.

Himself smiled. He had felt some reluctance...well, a lot...in letting his people wander off alone. "No script, eh?" he mused. Well, as was well known, epis NEVER had one of THOSE! He looked at Jocelyn again. "I trust you will keep me posted?"

She just looked at him almost blankly. He began to stride rapidly away. "Where are you GOING?" she called after him.

He turned his head, saying over his shoulder as he continued to walk toward Berti. "West," he said. "I...we...are going into the west."