from a real machete, the lighter of the pair was constructed of balsa wood. Jack had done a good job. The paint gleamed like steel, shiny in the same places as the other, mottled with rust near the hilt, a few nicks on the edge.
A work of art.
Dani hated to tamper with it.
But if she didn’t, Jack would have to take time when he returned. He’d be glad to have it done.
So she pressed the cardboard cut-out against the blade , and traced its crescent with a pencil. Carefully, she whittled down to the line. The machete looked as if a large bite had been taken out of it.
She pressed it, at an angle, against the mask’s forehead.
It fit well.
After the real blow, the mask would be removed, the balsa machete glued to Bill’s own forehead, and makeup applied. Cameras rolling again, he’d quiver and shake and slump.
End of effect.
With the proper camera angles, lighting and editing, it should look like poor Bill actually caught a blade in the face.
Smiling, Dani brushed the balsa curls off her sweatshirt.
She was out by the pool, stretched on a chaise longue with the sun pressing warm on her back, when the sliding door from the bedroom rumbled open. Her stomach jumped. She raised her head and saw Jack come out.
‘Sorry it took so long.’
‘That’s all right.’
He walked forward, his swimming trunks hanging low on his hips, a towel under one arm. ‘Had a couple of errands to run.’
‘I just got out here. Finished up with Bill and the machete.’
‘How do they look?’
‘Just great.’
‘So we’re all set for tomorrow?’
‘All set. The rest of the day is for play.’
With a grin, he flopped his towel onto the patio chair beside Dani. ‘How’s the water?’
‘Let’s find out.’
8
‘B LESS MY soul! How are you, honey?’
‘Just fine,’ Linda said, nodding pleasantly to the buxom, grinning woman behind the counter.
‘Mighty good to see you up and around.’
‘Thank you, Elsie.’ She turned to the paperback rack, scanning the covers.
‘You look real good. How’s the leg?’
‘Good as new, almost.’
‘We were all just worried to death about you. ’Specially when we heard you was in one of them comas. I read me a book about a fella in a coma. He was dead to the world, oh, ’bout ten years.’ Elsie leaned over the counter, her eyes widening. ‘When he come to, he could see in the future. Gave him no end of trouble.’
‘I wouldn’t mind that,’ Linda said.
‘More a curse than a gift, you ask me.’
‘Well, it didn’t happen to me, so I guess I’ll never know.’ She slipped a book from the rack and carried it to the counter.
Elsie picked it up. ‘Oh dear, that’s a scary one. Did you read the other?’
‘I sure did.’
‘Them Bradleys, they had no end of trouble.’ Elsie rang it up. ‘You hear the news about our own haunted house?’
‘The Freeman place?’
‘Got burnt to the ground last night. Elwood Jones was in for his Post , told me all ’bout it. He’s on the volunteers, you know.’
Linda nodded. She put a hand on the counter to steady herself.
‘Yessir, burnt to the ground. That’s three seventy-eight, with tax.’
Linda opened her purse. Her hands trembled as she took out her billfold.
In a hushed voice, Elsie said, ‘There was two bodies in it, burnt to a crisp.’
‘My God,’ Linda muttered.
‘They figure one’s Ben Leland’s boy, Charles. Couldn’t tell by looking, but he’s turned up missing and they say he takes his girlfriends in there for some foolishness – though, Lord knows, you wouldn’t catch me in there after dark. Nor in broad daylight, neither.’ She took the bills from Linda and counted out the change. ‘Elwood, he says they don’t know who the gal is yet. Larson, down by the morgue, he’s gonna have to go by her teeth.’ Elsie slipped the book and receipt into a bag. ‘Real bad business, but that’s what comes of fooling where you don’t belong. Least the Freeman place is gone, now. That’s a
A work of art.
Dani hated to tamper with it.
But if she didn’t, Jack would have to take time when he returned. He’d be glad to have it done.
So she pressed the cardboard cut-out against the blade , and traced its crescent with a pencil. Carefully, she whittled down to the line. The machete looked as if a large bite had been taken out of it.
She pressed it, at an angle, against the mask’s forehead.
It fit well.
After the real blow, the mask would be removed, the balsa machete glued to Bill’s own forehead, and makeup applied. Cameras rolling again, he’d quiver and shake and slump.
End of effect.
With the proper camera angles, lighting and editing, it should look like poor Bill actually caught a blade in the face.
Smiling, Dani brushed the balsa curls off her sweatshirt.
She was out by the pool, stretched on a chaise longue with the sun pressing warm on her back, when the sliding door from the bedroom rumbled open. Her stomach jumped. She raised her head and saw Jack come out.
‘Sorry it took so long.’
‘That’s all right.’
He walked forward, his swimming trunks hanging low on his hips, a towel under one arm. ‘Had a couple of errands to run.’
‘I just got out here. Finished up with Bill and the machete.’
‘How do they look?’
‘Just great.’
‘So we’re all set for tomorrow?’
‘All set. The rest of the day is for play.’
With a grin, he flopped his towel onto the patio chair beside Dani. ‘How’s the water?’
‘Let’s find out.’
8
‘B LESS MY soul! How are you, honey?’
‘Just fine,’ Linda said, nodding pleasantly to the buxom, grinning woman behind the counter.
‘Mighty good to see you up and around.’
‘Thank you, Elsie.’ She turned to the paperback rack, scanning the covers.
‘You look real good. How’s the leg?’
‘Good as new, almost.’
‘We were all just worried to death about you. ’Specially when we heard you was in one of them comas. I read me a book about a fella in a coma. He was dead to the world, oh, ’bout ten years.’ Elsie leaned over the counter, her eyes widening. ‘When he come to, he could see in the future. Gave him no end of trouble.’
‘I wouldn’t mind that,’ Linda said.
‘More a curse than a gift, you ask me.’
‘Well, it didn’t happen to me, so I guess I’ll never know.’ She slipped a book from the rack and carried it to the counter.
Elsie picked it up. ‘Oh dear, that’s a scary one. Did you read the other?’
‘I sure did.’
‘Them Bradleys, they had no end of trouble.’ Elsie rang it up. ‘You hear the news about our own haunted house?’
‘The Freeman place?’
‘Got burnt to the ground last night. Elwood Jones was in for his Post , told me all ’bout it. He’s on the volunteers, you know.’
Linda nodded. She put a hand on the counter to steady herself.
‘Yessir, burnt to the ground. That’s three seventy-eight, with tax.’
Linda opened her purse. Her hands trembled as she took out her billfold.
In a hushed voice, Elsie said, ‘There was two bodies in it, burnt to a crisp.’
‘My God,’ Linda muttered.
‘They figure one’s Ben Leland’s boy, Charles. Couldn’t tell by looking, but he’s turned up missing and they say he takes his girlfriends in there for some foolishness – though, Lord knows, you wouldn’t catch me in there after dark. Nor in broad daylight, neither.’ She took the bills from Linda and counted out the change. ‘Elwood, he says they don’t know who the gal is yet. Larson, down by the morgue, he’s gonna have to go by her teeth.’ Elsie slipped the book and receipt into a bag. ‘Real bad business, but that’s what comes of fooling where you don’t belong. Least the Freeman place is gone, now. That’s a
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