Kubrick's Game Page 8

  Shawn paused and smiled, certain he had the right answer.

  “Which is?” urged Wilson.

  “Spartacus Square at the Universal Studios backlot.”

  “The Universal Studios backlot?” Sami repeated skeptically. “You really think that’s the answer?”

  Shawn nodded. “Yes, I think there’s something hidden at Spartacus Square.”

  “But what about Kubrick’s hint from the film footage?” said Sami. “He said we would have to ‘watch out for sharks.’ That seems to indicate we would have to go to a beach or an aquarium.”

  “Not true,” said Wilson. “Haven’t you guys been on the Universal Studios tour? One of the most memorable parts of the tram ride is—”

  “Jaws Lake,” said Shawn, rediscovering a childhood memory.

  “Jaws Lake?” said Sami.

  “Yes,” said Shawn. “During the tour, the tram stops at a lake where a guy is fishing in a small boat. Then the boat gets pulled under and a life-sized animatronic shark pops out of the water and scares each carload of people.”

  “Yeah, it’s a cheesy attraction,” said Wilson. “But you gotta admit, it could be what Kubrick was hinting at.”

  “At least it’s back in LA,” said Sami. “But how to get onto the backlot and snoop around? Security would be all over us, and I doubt they will let us leave with anything we find.”

  Shawn said, “Well, sneaking onto the Universal lot is kind of a right of passage among directors. Spielberg famously learned the craft by talking his way in and observing productions for an entire summer.”

  “Security has tightened since the sixties,” said Wilson. “We’ll have to go there in the middle of the night.”

  “How do we get onto the lot at night?” said Sami.

  “My friends....” Wilson wrapped his arms around their shoulders. “There are all sorts of secret ways onto the lot they don’t tell you about in the brochures.”

  A short time later, the three were getting ready for bed. While Sami took a shower, Shawn ensured that all the camera equipment was in working condition.

  Wilson reclined on the couch answering his emails.

  The place was barely bigger than Shawn’s dorm room, with just enough space for one full-size bed in a cramped bedroom and a small couch in a slightly less cramped living room.

  “How much you think this place costs?” asked Shawn.

  “My buddy, I mean, the Airbnb host told me it’s $2,500.00 a month,” said Wilson. “I bet he makes about $3,500.00 a month renting it out and lives in a place twice this size in Brooklyn for $1,500.00.”

  “That’s crazy. Westwood is one of the most expensive areas in LA and you can get a two-bedroom four times this size for the same price.”

  “Be thankful you’re not at NYU, cause this is probably where you’d be living.” Wilson closed his laptop and sat up. “So, as for the sleeping arrangements, the bed can only fit two people. We should be gentlemanly and offer a spot on it to Sami. I’ll take the couch and you can sleep beside her. Am I a great friend or what?”

  The idea sent a wave of anxiety coursing through Shawn’s body. He had never even kissed a girl romantically before. Sleeping beside Sami excited him, but the thought of actually doing it terrified him more than being tased.

  He stammered, “Oh... um... yeah... thanks, but... uh... I don’t think I’d be able to get much sleep. How about you take the bed with her? I should be rested for tomorrow’s shoot. But thanks for the offer.”

  “All right. Suit yourself.”

  Sami emerged from the shower wrapped in a towel. Shawn had to force himself not to stare. He awkwardly pretended to focus on cleaning a lens.

  Sami scanned through emails on her phone. “Raul caught the redeye and should be arriving around 7:00 a.m. We need to get as much sleep as we can so we can start location scouting first thing.”

  “No worries,” said Wilson. “Is it cool if we share the bed? Shawn kindly offered to take the couch.

  “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to be out in ten seconds anyway.”

  Two hours later Shawn hadn’t fallen asleep. The adrenalin from the evening vibrated in his veins and his thoughts were racecars speeding around a track. He got up, took out the photo from the envelope, scrutinized it carefully, and found something new. The bullet hole in the photo wasn’t an actual hole. There was a thin piece of transparent film that he could feel when he poked it. What was that for? What could it mean?

  Next, he looked up the history of the Universal backlot, saving links to maps so they could plan potential escape routes.

  A chat box popped up.

  Djacks: Hey, how’s NY?

  Shawn thought for a moment. How much should he reveal? He had to admit that the projector hint from before had proven accurate.

  Moonwatcher: It’s been successful.

  Djacks: Congrats. So you’ll be heading to Hollywood?

  Moonwatcher: You mean Universal Studios?

  Djacks: Ah, so you’ve figured it out. I guess it was pretty obvious from the back of the photo.

  Moonwatcher: You’ve been there?

  Djacks: Yep. Seems to be a dead end. I really just wanted to see if you came up with the same answer.

  Moonwatcher: U sure? All signs seem to point to Universal. Or are you trying to sabotage us?

  Djacks: Ha ha. Too early for that kind of stuff. Haven’t you seen The Hunger Games? In the beginning, alliances are crucial or you die. Save the competition for the final round.

  Moonwatcher: How many rounds you think this goes?

  Djacks: Well, starting with Lolita, Kubrick made eight films. So far, we’ve only dealt with two. Safe to assume we will have to go through all of them, right?

  Moonwatcher: Makes sense. So you’re sure there’s nothing at Universal?

  Djacks: We searched around that lake all night. Even snorkeled in the disgusting water. Nothing.

  Shawn realized that they were searching in the wrong place. They hadn’t solved the FDR photo that would lead them to Spartacus Square. Should he help Djacks? Was he really offering an alliance?

  Moonwatcher: Since you helped out before, the portrait in the photo is a clue to use the portrait in Lolita. Q is the one who hides behind it.

  Djacks: Ohhhh. Quilty?

  Moonwatcher: Discover his other identity. That’s the location.

  Djacks: You cryptic bastard. I gotta go. Thx!

  Djacks signed off.

  Shawn wasn’t sure if he had done the right thing, but he figured he owed him at least that hint as a sign of good faith in case an alliance was truly in the works.

  He closed his laptop. On his way to the bathroom, he saw the bedroom door cracked open. He couldn’t help himself, and tiptoed to the door to peek inside.

  His heart sank.

  Sami and Wilson were sleeping face-to-face, their hands entwined at their sides.

  He didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

  Shawn had often stayed up until the wee hours studying, researching, watching movies, playing games, but never had he pulled an all-nighter, and now he felt the effects.

  Questions exploded in his brain like fireworks. What did Wilson and Sami’s hand-holding mean? Was it romantic? Was it even done consciously? Sami had said she was going right to sleep.

  His feelings for Sami were clearly stronger than he had admitted to Wilson or even himself. How could he have been so stupid? If he had taken up Wilson’s offer, it could have been him sleeping next to Sami, him making her feel safe after the most harrowing evening of their lives.

  Wilson must have misunderstood Shawn’s lack of action for lack of caring. Shawn had to make it clear that any kind of romantic involvement between Wilson and Sami would undoubtedly destroy their friendship. Wilson would understand; he was a celebrity after all, and could have any girl he wanted.

  Unfortunately, there was never a moment for Shawn to confront Wilson alone the rest of the day. The morning had been a blur of location scouting. They asked cab drivers if the
y knew of any isolated alleyways where they could film unnoticed for at least a few hours that night.

  Most cab drivers laughed. “In Manhattan? Are you nuts?”

  When Raul met up with them at noon, he suggested they head over to Brooklyn. “Hey, you looking for someplace abandoned and sketchy? Gotta check out Greenpoint—all industry and warehouses.”

  “You’ve been there?” asked Wilson.

  “You’re talking to a real New Yorker. I graduated from La Guardia High School of Performing Arts. That’s right, the school from Fame. We gotta finish this shoot quick cause I got my family waiting up for me in Flatbush. Hey, what’s wrong with the D.P.?

  Shawn barely heard the question as he drifted to sleep in the backseat.

  They arrived at the chosen location as night fell. Shawn jumped out of the cab hauling all of the equipment by himself. Wilson had slipped him a couple No-Doz pills at dinner, and now he felt on fire.

  “Let’s go!” he shouted. “If we hurry, we can catch the first few scenes in this beautiful moonlight.”

  Like a man possessed, he set up the lights and loaded the camera. Lighting exterior night scenes was one of the toughest challenges in cinematography, as streetlamps and realistic moonlight were notoriously difficult to capture effectively on film. Shawn hung “china hats” under small roof awnings, and placed bare bulb fixtures on the brick walls.

  “Okay,” he said, panting. “Let’s shoot this.”

  The shoot went as smoothly as they could hope, and they wrapped by 1:00 a.m. and packed up the gear. They laughed, remembering the flubbed takes, while scarfing down the last doughnuts and chugging the last Red Bulls.

  As they exited the alleyway, two men stepped out from behind the corner wearing hockey masks. The one on the right was noticeably shorter. They reached into their black jackets and pulled out handguns.

  Everyone froze.

  “If you’re here for a Kubrick clue, we don’t have anything,” said Shawn.

  “Kubrick?” said the mugger on the left. “What’s that supposed to mean? Slide us your phones.” His voice sounded like he couldn’t be more than sixteen.

  “Okay,” said Wilson. “We don’t want trouble.”

  Wilson, Sami and Raul slowly reached in their pockets and slid their phones across the pavement.

  A part of Shawn was relieved they were dealing with normal criminals.

  “What about yours?” the shorter one said to Shawn.

  “Don’t have one. You can check my pockets if you want.”

  “All right then,” said the taller one. “What you got in that case?”

  Shawn pursed his lips, not wanting to appear more panicked than he was. The brand new camera was in the case.

  “Just some lights,” said Shawn.

  “Open it.”

  Sami nodded at Shawn to comply. He started opening the case, but then Raul stepped in front of him.

  “Guys, you have our phones. That’s a damn good score. We’re just student filmmakers. This is crappy rental equipment, but they’re depending on us to bring it back.”

  Shawn realized what Raul was doing. He was blocking their view so he could collect the most important thing.

  “You think we care? Get down now.” The taller one stepped to Raul, grabbed him by the collar and pushed him face down to the ground.

  The camera came into view.

  “Just some lights huh? That’s a sick camera. Hand it over.”

  Shawn complied.

  “Damn, this is sweet. Gotta be worth a thousand bucks.”

  Wait until he finds out it’s worth fifteen thousand, thought Shawn.

  The shorter one barked from behind him. “Hey, I recognize that fool. It’s the ‘Holy cheesy peperoni’ kid from Slice of Cheese, Hold the Ghosts!”

  “It is you! Man, I loved your show when I was a kid.”

  “Thanks, guys.” Wilson put on the charm. “How about we take some pictures, and I’ll sign you some autographs, and you let us keep our stuff?”

  “Ha! Nice try! You ain’t that famous. Hand over your wallet.”

  Wilson huffed and handed it over.

  The two muggers took off with their phones and the camera.

  Sami exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time.

  Wilson pulled her in and gave her a hug. “It’s okay. We’re all fine.”

  “No,” said Sami. “They got the camera. The footage was still in it. The whole second half of the shoot is lost.”

  “No it’s not,” said Shawn, holding up a memory card hidden behind his palm.

  “What? How did you—”

  “Raul created the perfect diversion. I slipped it out while he was giving his speech.”

  Sami pulled Shawn in and hugged him.

  “Good thing you got it,” said Raul, dusting himself off. “Or I was going to be the one to pop a cap in you.”

  No one felt much like spending the rest of the night at a police station filling out a report, so they took a train back into the city.

  That night, Shawn would have no trouble sleeping. As he slipped off, his mind drifted to the expedition to Universal Studios the following night.

  “Rise and shine!” Wilson threw shirts into his duffle bag.

  Noticing it was past noon, Shawn sprang up. “Where’s Sami?”

  “She left a couple hours ago to file a police report and bring back lunch. We have to be out of here in an hour.”

  “Police report?” The events of the previous night came flooding back. “Oh no. I can’t believe I lost another camera. They’ll never let me use their equipment again.”

  “Come on, buddy. At least no one was hurt. Try to think positive.”

  “What could possibly be positive?”

  “NYPD is on the case!”

  Shawn took a quick shower and the events of the last couple of days came back to him—in particular, the image of Wilson and Sami in bed together. After getting dressed, he found Wilson posting his status on Facebook about his lost phone.

  “Can I ask you a question?” said Shawn.

  “Sure.” Wilson didn’t look up from his laptop.

  “Do you have romantic feelings for Sami?”

  Wilson stopped typing and looked up. “Man, you are blunt, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I find it’s efficient.”

  “That’s another thing we need to work on. It’s called being smooth.”

  “You haven’t answered the question.”

  Wilson looked back to the computer. “Nah, man, no worries. We’re just friends.”

  “I saw you holding hands in bed last night.”

  “That’s what you saw? Holding hands?”

  “Yes. You were facing one another.”

  “It was a small bed, Shawn. Only a few ways you can face. It’s just your imagination.”

  “Forgive me. I have a hard time deciphering innuendo. Please tell me whether you are being honest or not.”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you, Shawn.”

  “Good. Because the truth is that I do like her. If you were to become involved with her, it would very much upset me.”

  Wilson slapped his laptop shut. “Listen. You have no right to dictate who I can and can’t hook up with.” His voice rose. “If I did decide to go after Sami, it would have nothing to do with you. Friends compete for girls all the time. It’s part of being bros. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, but chicks can’t destroy the male bond.”

  “Your argument isn’t logical because we can’t compete for girls. It wouldn’t be fair. I am ceding ninety-nine-point-nine percent of girls to you. All I ask is that when I actually find one I’m interested in, you honor my feelings. I don’t think that’s an unreasonable request.”

  “Shawn, I didn’t want to tell this to you, but I feel like it’s important. You will never, ever be with Sami. I know this because she told me, bluntly, that she is not interested in you. In fact, you kind of creep her out the way you’re always staring at her. I mean, be realist
ic. She’s twenty-four and you’re only twenty, but honestly, you look like you’re fifteen. She respects your talent and considers you to be a friend, but she is scared to death that you will declare your love for her, and she’ll have to break your heart. Do yourself a favor and forget about her this instant. Do not make her feel like crap by having to reject you. Set your sights on the thousands of other coeds at your fingertips, and I promise you, you will find success with me as your mentor. But Sami is the one that you have to let go. You feel me?”

  Shawn had no idea how to respond. It went against everything the movies had taught him. If you have strong feelings for someone, you stand under her bedroom window, hold up a boom box, and blast it so the whole neighborhood can hear. Was that really wrong? Were the great love stories a lie?

  Sami burst through the door in a jovial mood, holding out a red and white box. “Who wants pizza?”

  On the cab ride to JFK, Wilson diverted every line of conversation back to the Kubrick puzzle to keep Shawn’s mind occupied.

  “So what’s the plan when we get back?” he said.

  Sami responded, “First, we have to search Spartacus Square at Universal Studios.”

  Wilson clapped his hands. “Well then, tonight is the perfect night. Sunday security will be sparse. I’ll have a buddy of mine who works on the lot call in a drive-on for me. That’ll give me access to the backlot production offices, but once you’re in there, you can pretty much go anywhere you want. I’ll look around for a way to get you guys in.”

  “Why can’t your buddy get us all drive-ons?” Shawn asked.

  “Too suspicious. I can tell him I left a jacket there or something, but three people on a Sunday night is obvious shenanigans.”

  Shawn wondered if Djacks and his team had figured out the Spartacus clue by now. He thought about telling Wilson and Sami he was working on an alliance, but he wanted to be sure about it before they potentially overruled him.