“Ok, Jeff. You can think
whatever you want about me.”
“It’s not just what I think.”
“Well I don’t care what the crew thinks either. I know my
reasons.”
“And what benignly artistic reasons are those?” Jeff
asked sarcastically with a laugh. He got up and walked to the bathroom.
“Don’t act like you’re better than me. I’m doing this for
the same reasons you are. And maybe a few more,” Salem said slightly louder so her voice would
carry into bathroom. She could hear him pissing loud and
clear. After the toilet flushed Jeff walked back to the bed, passing up washing
his hands.
“You can spare me the pep talk bullshit. I run whether or
not you film it. I’d do this without the cameras. I’d do it without the fame.”
“I know. That’s why I’m doing this.”
Jeff sat back against the headboard of the other bed and
began flipping channels on the TV.
“You can stop acting so hard Jeff. I took one look at you
and knew you weren’t some driven husband focused on
justice and love. You’re scared shitless and you don’t know what the hell you’re
doing. This whole annoyed-with-this-show-and-this-running is just your little
way of dealing with the fact you’ve been lost from the beginning.”
Jeff turned her. His expression was hard to read.
“I worked on the documentary about the Chilean miners who
were stuck. You aren’t much different than them. You all were separated from
those you loved by some sort of ‘suspended death’ or whatever your writer’s
mind would like to describe it as. You all did something superhuman. And you
are all incredibly flawed. Those men had mistresses. I won’t even go into
everything else that went on. But you’re flawed too. I’m glad you know it. But
that’s what makes me film you. You are so flawed…like them…like me. We’re alike in that we’re greedy. I had some time to research you before
we met. By the way you write I can tell you want the awards and the money. But
the artist in you wants none of it. We’re no better than selfish little
adolescents, angst ridden and starry-eyed.” Salem waved her tattooed stump in
the air for emphasis.
Jeff forced a scoff
before saying, “You are so wrong.”
“I think you may have just proven me right.”
His only response was to pretend being interested in the
last soap opera still being aired.
“So, rest assured, I’m capturing you quite honestly. I’m
not deluded enough to think you’re a superhero. But you are a hero, whether you
like it or not. And it’s your flaws that make you that way. Anyone can be
courageous when they have no fear. Anyone can have clarity of vision if they
aren’t confused. When you run, when you love her, it makes me believe my own
flaws won’t destroy me. And if you can make me lose my cynical objectivity
about this human race for even just one episode, then you are a hero. It’s you
who isn’t being honest. The sooner you accept who you are and what you’ve done,
the better we’ll all be. Including Shauna.”
He looked away from the TV out the window.
“Ok,” Salem said before seeing herself out.
