Read Online The Extra by Kenneth Rosenberg - Free Book Online Page A

himself in a skiing accident, and we’re having an awfully hard time filling his role on such short notice.  We wondered if you might try reading for us?”
    “Sure,” Warren shrugged.  Bridget could tell he was uneasy.  She wished she could help him, and tell him that everything would be all right, but he was on his own.
    Kevin handed Warren some script pages.  “The scene is here,” Kevin said, pointing to the lines.  Everyone in the room was quiet in anticipation.  Warren looked over the pages. 
    “Your character is a police officer named Casey,” Kaplan explained.  “You’ve been offered a risky undercover job, and you’ve decided to take it.  Understand?”
    “I think so,” said Warren.
    “Good.  Why don’t you stand over there near the desk?  Just start reading when you’re ready.”
    Warren moved across the set and then looked over the lines once more before he lifted an eyebrow and faced the panel.  Their expressions were intent, each and every one. 
    “Go ahead,” said Kaplan.  “Just like yesterday.”  Craddock folded his arms, and scowled in a critical expression, as though dismissing Warren before he even began.  Jessica gazed at his butt in the tight-blue policeman’s uniform and studied his sturdy upper body with an air of satisfaction.
    “My dad was a cop.  My uncle was a cop.  My cousins are cops,” said Warren, as his anxiety melted away.  “Since I was born, all I wanted was to be a cop.  I know this case is dangerous, but I want to stay on it.  It’s what I do.  I’m a cop.”  There was no artifice in his reading.  There was no phony accent.  But there was sincerity, and depth, and emotion, and nearly everyone in the room was impressed.
    “Very good, go on,” said Kaplan, intrigued. 
    “McGhee and his gang are the scum of the earth,” Warren continued, gaining confidence as he went.  “I don’t want to live in a world where a good honest cop is afraid of slime like that.  If it takes all the strength I’ve got, I’m going to be the one to bring him down, so help me!”  Warren stopped and looked up.  He was met by expressions of disbelief; jaws hanging down, eyes open wide.  Only Craddock seemed unmoved.
    “How many films have you acted in before, Mr.?” said Craddock.
    “August.  Warren August.  This is my first film, sir.”
    “Your first film?” Craddock sneered.
    “Yes, sir,” said Warren in shame, as if he’d done something wrong.
    “And you’re an extra?” continued Craddock.
    “Not really,” said Warren.  “I mean, I guess so…  For the last couple of days anyway.”  He glanced toward the door to the freedom from scrutiny that beaconed just outside.
    Craddock shook his head and sighed.  “Ok, Stewart, the game’s up.  Thank you for coming Mr. August.  You can go.”
    “All right,” said Warren with obvious relief.
    “Hang on,” Kaplan stopped Warren from leaving just yet.  The director walked around the table to scrutinize the extra’s face.  He held two fingers under Warren’s chin and carefully moved his head from side to side.  “He has that lean, hungry look.  Like Willem Dafoe, only maybe better looking.  It’s that hungry look that draws you in.”  He took the pages from Warren’s hand and then turned back to Craddock.  “You know who he reminds me of?  A young Jeff Bridges.”
    “Oh, come on,” said Craddock.
    “Don’t tell me you can’t see it!?”
    Craddock looked Warren over more intently.  He sighed.  “Ok, maybe a little bit.  Pre-Lebowski.”
    “Of course.”
    “I mean, he’s not The Dude.”
    “I can see The Dude in him, absolutely!”
    “I never really liked The Dude.”
    “Ok, fine, he’s not The Dude!”
    “Maybe Tron.  The first one.  I can see some resemblance there.”
    “Look, whatever!  He’s got that spark, that’s all I’m saying!” Kaplan was beside himself.  He turned back toward Warren.  “You can wait outside.  Just don’t go too far