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

away.”
    “Sure,” Warren answered.  “You know where to find me.” 
    From her hiding place behind the set, Bridget ducked back low but remained where she was, listening to every word. 
    “Look, you’ve had your fun,” said Craddock when Warren was gone.  “But you can’t really mean it.”
    “Are you mad?  That guy was phenomenal!” Kaplan raised his voice.
    “Come on, Stewart!  He’s some punk off the street!  Jessica’s right.”
    “Whatever I said about him, I take it back,” said Jessica in amazement, as though trying to process what she’d just seen.
    “You can’t be serious,” said Craddock.
    “If you can’t see his talent, Roger, you have no business in this industry,” said Kaplan.
    “You people are insane,” said Craddock, but from his tone it was apparent that Kaplan’s comment stung.  “I want someone with a track record.  Proven appeal!  Not some complete nobody!” he added.  “You can forget about Warren August.”
    “So what am I supposed to do?  I’m running out of scenes to shoot!  At least let me try him out!” said Kaplan.  “You can look at the dailies tomorrow.  If he’s no good, we’ll let him go.”
    “And waste a whole day?” Craddock whined.
    “Do you have a better idea?” said Kaplan. 
    Craddock’s long silence conveyed his frustration.  “Fine, he’s got one day,” he finally replied, “but the dailies better be damned good!”
    “I think we might just have our man,” said Kaplan with an air of satisfaction.
    From behind the set, Bridget quietly backed out the way she had come, on hands and knees.  She got to her feet without being seen, but then heard voices.  Some of the crew were coming back from their lunch break.  She slid back into her hiding spot.  Would they care if she was in here?  She decided not to take any chances. 
    “What are we shooting next?” one of the crew members asked, as three sets of legs came into view on the other side of the equipment.
    “Scene twenty-three.  The police chief’s office.”
    From where she sat, Bridget could see the open doorway.  It was only thirty feet away, but she’d never make it without being spotted.  She breathed a deep sigh and settled in to wait.
     

Chapter Thirteen
     
    Inside a changing room in the wardrobe trailer, Warren stood alone in front of a full-length mirror, illuminated from above by a single fluorescent bulb.  The sight of himself in a uniform gave him pause.  He almost had to laugh.  This was the first time in a very long time that he looked like a respectable member of society.  Sadly it was just an illusion.  Warren rubbed two fingers across his cheek; the first time he’d seen his clean-shaven face in years.  Slowly he took off the uniform and put back on his filthy old clothes.  Warren walked out of the changing room and turned the uniform, hat and shoes over to a wardrobe attendant.  He was walking down the stairs of the trailer when Kevin caught up to him.  “Hey, Warren, nice job with the reading,” he said.
    “Thanks,” Warren answered with some skepticism in his voice. 
    “They want you to come back tomorrow and give it a go,” Kevin continued.
    “Does that mean I got the part?”
    “It means we’ll see how you do.  Let me have your voucher and I’ll sign you out for today.”
    Warren pulled his voucher out of his pocket and handed it to Kevin, who held it against the trailer wall and scrawled an out time and signature across the bottom.
    “You did well.  I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t mean it,” said Kevin, sensing Warren’s uncertainty.
      “Thank you.”  Warren licked his lips.
    “We’ll see you tomorrow then,” said Kevin, before hurrying back to find his boss.
     
    When Bridget finally made it back outside, she found the others still gathered at the tables.  “Have you seen Warren?” she asked with some urgency. 
    “I think so,” answered Marjorie, who was back to playing solitaire.  “At least