Wool of the Prince-- Chapter 39

~950 Words

“Uh, I’m sorry?” Jay said, breaking the stunned silence that fell after the man’s intrusion.

“I knew there was something up with you all,” said the man. “No one has ever asked for a tour of Three Pines Studio. And there’s a reason for that,” the man looked away. “No one likes Three Pines movies. They never have.”

“Hey,” said Jay, “You guys made Traverse the Moon, which is like, my favorite movie… well, maybe second favorite…”

The man continued, acting like he hadn’t heard Jay. “And I knew since no one would ever visit our studio, that your group would be up to something. And here you are, stealing one of our props. I can’t believe what the world has come to these days.” He threw his hands in the air.

“Listen,” Jay said, “we’re really sorry that we’re taking your knife. The thing is, we really need your knife for… something.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Erm…” Jay glanced at Fleta and Cabot. They both had pale faces and blank expressions.

“It’s a secret.” Jay said, cringing.

“Ah, right, right.” The man stared at them like he wanted more.

Jay waited for Cabot to be a responsible adult and step forward, but there was only silence. Groaning internally, he took half a step closer to the man, a pleading expression on his face.

“You want to know why Traverse the Moon is my second-favorite movie?” He asked.

The man said nothing, but in his eyes was a slight spark of hope, as if there was something one teenage boy could say that could rekindle the man’s faith in Three Pines studios.

Jay went on, “Because it shows two kids who go out, throw caution to the wind, and make their own story. They don’t do things politely unless it’s to get something they want. If they wanted a gilded dagger, they’d get the gilded dagger. And it would be for a reason that no one could possibly hope to believe in. They wanted to get to the moon. And they succeeded… in a way. But that doesn’t matter. The point is that they succeeded, despite all challenges in their path. If we told you why we needed this dagger, you wouldn’t believe us, so it’s better to just let kids be kids. Let us take the dagger.”

The man sighed, shifted his weight to his other foot, and said, “The difference between this situation and Traverse the Moon is that Traverse the Moon is a fictional movie that is not based on how any of its adventures would happen in real life.”

“Then why did you make it? To give kids false hopes? To build up their dreams so that their aspirations can be crushed easier and more painfully? Because if that’s it, then I don’t see any reason why you ever thought anyone would come to this… dream crushing institution. I don’t see any reason why you had hope in Three Pines in the first place. All I see is a sour old man who grumbles about how things should be when he’s exerting no effort to make them that way.” Jay regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

He heard a quiet gasp from Fleta, but Jay could not look away from the man’s steely, calculating eyes. Jay’s hands were balled up tight into fists that hung by his sides, and his feet were spread apart like nothing in the world could knock him down.

Finally, something seemed to break, and the man’s eyes welled up with tears.

Jay continued, “Don’t you believe in the messages that your movies promote? Tell me that this studio exists as more than a money making institution. Show us how much you believe in your themes,” Jay pleaded.

The man started to nod, and the first tear began to spill. Before it could begin to work it’s way down his cheek, though, he turned away. Walking towards the room’s entrance, he said, “Fine, keep the dagger. But don’t let me catch sight of it on your way out, or I might change my mind.”

They listened to his footsteps echo off the boxes for a while until the sound was lost in the air. That was a close one, Jay thought, and turned around with a huff of relief. Fleta and Cabot looked stunned, their mouths hanging slightly open, their eyes round.

“That… was impressive,” Fleta said.

Cabot deftly slipped the dagger into one of the pockets in his cape, one that seemed to have been designed for just such a purpose. “Let’s go.”

“We’ve got a taxi ride to the hotel waiting for us, don’t forget,” said Jay. They started heading back to the door to the room. “I’m rather nervous about how Fleta’s going to do in her impersonation of my mother.”

“I’ll do a great job, thank you very much,” Fleta said, crossing her arms.

“About that,” Cabot interjected, “I think I’ve found a way to make it so you won’t have to have that exchange. Play along with whatever I do at the hotel. And play for time, if you can.”

The door came within sight, along with Greg, who was still tapping away at his Gameboy Color. Cabot cleared his throat, and Greg glanced up, looking as though he didn’t know what year it was, much less who these strangers were. But then light of an epiphany showed in his eyes, and he said “Ready to go?”

“Yes, I think it is long past time to leave. I’m ready to go home,” Cabot said, staring into the distance, as if he were already seeing the peaks of Trevon’s snow-crested mountains.