were positioned around them, and the camera and a bunch of people were in the middle of the street. The caravan of trucks had been moved back and were blocked from view by the curve of the street further up.
This time I didn’t even flinch when I saw the tip of a rifle pointing out of the open car window. It was all just make-believe. Dinah and I had slowed to a stop. There was something mesmerizing about watching the other side of the magic.
Suddenly a voice called “Cut.” Then there were a bunch of angry voices and I heard someone yelling for “Security.” Eric had already popped off his motorcycle and was running to the knot of people. Run might have been the wrong word. It was more like loping. His posture was ramrod straight and there was something proper about him even as he rushed into trouble.
“What did you do this time, Pink?” Adele had rejoined Dinah and me on the street corner.
“Are you kidding?” I said with annoyance in my voice. She countered by saying something to the effect that since I always seemed to be getting into trouble, it was an easy assumption.
Dinah elbowed me and pointed. Eric was coming toward us and he had a kid in tow.
Jeffrey?
“Hi,” he said with a weak smile when they got close to us.
Eric appeared tough and all business. “You know them?” Eric said to Jeffrey in his ticket-giving voice. Then his face softened when his eyes met Adele’s. “See you later, cutchykins,” he said in a sweet voice before he caught himself and went back to gruff Eric. “And don’t you come back,” he said, letting Jeffrey go and returning to his post.
Jeffrey was not the spitting image of his father. Barry had close-cropped no-nonsense hair and was a conservative dresser. It was either suits, slacks and a sports jacket, or well broken-in jeans with a pocket tee shirt, possibly topped with a plaid flannel shirt.
Jeffrey had a “look.” But then Jeffrey wanted to be an actor, no strike that, he was an actor. He’d done some plays with the middle school drama club and had gone on some auditions for commercials. There was a debate going on about his name. He wanted to go by Columbia Greenberg and then just Columbia because he thought it made him stand out. Barry thought the whole idea stunk and dealt with it by ignoring it all together.
Jeffrey’s hair was longer and spikier than his dad’s, thanks to massive amounts of gel. He usually wore a sports jacket and jeans with a graphic tee shirt underneath. But today he’d gone all-American kid. He had on jeans, high-top sneakers and a bloodred tee shirt.
He threw a disappointed look toward the security cop and the production crew. “Geez, I was just trying to get something for my reel.” Jeffrey explained that he’d ridden his bike past the action, figuring he’d get in the shot. “Then I could say I’d been on L.A. 911.” He watched as they reset the scene. “It wasn’t like I waved or anything. I was just adding a little background. They ought to realize I was helping, not hurting.” He had a pleading look when he locked eyes with me. “You won’t tell my dad, will you?”
“It’ll be our secret,” I said, not mentioning that Barry and I didn’t even talk that much. Jeffrey seemed relieved and went back to talking about his reel, which was like a resume for actors with clips of their performances. Then he realized his bike was still where he’d left it when the crew had surrounded him. I was about to offer to retrieve it, when Adele stepped in.
“No problem, I’ll just talk to Eric,” she said in a grand manner. “Having a boyfriend in law enforcement has its perks.”
Once we’d seen Jeffrey take off on his bicycle, we started down the curving street that led to Kelly’s. Dinah and I practically had to restrain Adele from rushing on ahead.
The same truck was parked in Kelly’s driveway, and the same two men were walking down the driveway to the street. Nanci must have been attending to PTA business because she wasn’t standing out front.
“Let me handle it this time, Pink. You’re too soft. Kelly keeps saying she’s going to come to meetings and she’s going to give us things she’s made for the Jungle Days Fair. No more broken promises. I think she’s used to getting by on her dimples.” Adele straightened and