"We need to give her a part in the picture, just to get that name into the credits."

 
Mr. Todd Harrelson, the assistant director who seemed to be in charge of today's shooting, had me standing on a mark on the street while cameras, lighting and props were readied. The cape that went with my costume was more decoration than warmth, but I pulled it around me in a vain attempt to keep from shivering. The thin spangled cloth did little to keep out a chilling breeze. 

I struggled to keep my teeth from chattering. California was the fabled land of warm summer sunshine all year long in other parts of the country, but the truth was different. Sure, you could have a day in the high eighties almost any time of year, but early May was not summer. And wearing a glorified bikini outdoors in a breeze that must be coming straight off the Alaskan current that ran down the coast was just plain cold!

The "street" was the east end of the famous Gower Street at the Melrose Film and Sound Studios. Redressing the set was commonplace, and several renovations had happened over the decades. Every half-block or so of the three blocks had a different character, depending on what story was being told. The west end, of course, was Western-themed with colonial, medieval, European, Victorian, wartime and modern sections as you moved eastward.

I was posed at the east end, the modern section, with shop fronts and signs declaring various offices as seen in movies and television shows beginning in the late thirties. And I was on the south side of the street, where the false fronts and props were slightly larger than life-size. The other side was slightly under-scale, like Main Street at Disneyland. For short leading men, natch.

Hollywood magic — and now I was part of that. I was being photographed on the side that made you look shorter. I had my height to blame for that, but it kind of tickled me. Especially after the special effects camera turned me into a statuesque blonde, who was freezing her butt off in her skimpy costume. I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering. It couldn't really be cold, could it? This was Southern California. Maybe I'm just more sensitive now?

Meanwhile, Harrelson talked with a short, dark-haired man who might be the famous Jesse Delgado. Delgado, if it was him, kept staring at me while Harrelson repeatedly got in his way. Just as it started to look like he was doing it on purpose, he turned and called me over.

"Billy! Come say 'hi' to one of our most important investors," he enthused.

The cape was a lost cause, anyway. It didn't even go all the way around me, so I let it drop and hang and walked toward the two men. Both of whom were grinning at me. What? I resisted the urge to look behind me for something funny going on. Because I could see where they were looking, they had that caught-in-the-headlights stare I was beginning to get used to. Well, no, but I was starting to expect it. I'm not sure I would ever get used to it.

"Mr. Harrelson," I squeaked as I reached them. Something else I didn't think I would ever get used to—my new baby-girl voice. I'm a grown person! I shouldn't sound like a Saturday morning cartoon character. Heck, I'm over six feet tall in these shoes. But I tried not to let it make me grumpy. Or sound grumpy, anyway. I had this terrible feeling that if I tried to sound annoyed, I'd just come off as petulant.

"Mr. Delgado," Harrelson was saying, "This is Billie Jones, one of our new hires and someone we think would be perfect for your space epic." Turning slightly, he continued to me, "Billie, this is Jesse Delgado, chief of our syndicate of investors."

Syndicate? I'd have to ask Jack what that word meant in this context. "Mr. Harrelson, I wanted to tell you, the Guild says I need to use a more distinctive name, so I'm going to go with my middle name instead of Billy. Hallelujah."

"Hallelujah?" he repeated. I realized he wasn't getting it.

But Mr. Delgado grinned at me. "Hallelujah is your middle name?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir, So as soon as I file my guild applications, I will officially be Hallelujah Jones. Or Hallie Jones as an alternate?" I didn't mean to make that come out as a question, and the mistake caused me to giggle. I'm probably blushing, too, I thought. But I stood there and smiled at the two men, and they smiled back.

"I love it," said Mr. Delgado. "We need to give her a part in the picture, just to get that name into the credits." He laughed out loud, turning to me to share his amusement.

I laughed, too, a little giddily, perhaps. Jesse Delgado was a medium-tall man of about fifty, with olive skin, black hair and dark eyes. I stood an inch or two taller than him in my costume heels, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Hallelujah Jones!" said Harrelson, the assistant director. "It's got a good sound."

They both nodded, and I giggled again because they looked like smiling bobbleheads.

Harrelson motioned the cinematographer over and began going over what shots he wanted to get of me in the movie costume. I kept an eye out for the big green box of the special effects camera that had apparently transformed me yesterday, but it was nowhere in sight.

Mr. Delgado stayed beside me. "Tell me about yourself, Hallie. Have you been acting long?"

I turned my attention toward him. "Since high school," I said. "I'm a film student at UCLA now, my first year. I just qualified for my SAG card this week." I giggled again. Jeez. "Um, I like acting…."

He nodded. "But eventually, you want to direct?"

"Huh? Well, no, probably not? Anyway, not for years. Maybe. I dunno…."

He laughed, and I giggled again. Crap. The giggling was in character for how I looked but still….

"You may be the only actor I've ever met that didn't immediately say they wanted to direct," he said, grinning at me. "Are you not ambitious in that way?"

"Uh? Well, I've always wanted to act, and…and, directing is telling other people how to act. I'm not really sure I'd be any good at that." I'd been asked something similar in some of my classes. I'd even done a bit of directing in school; everyone does. And truth to tell, I didn't like it.

He seemed delighted at my reply, and I wondered why on Earth he would care whether I wanted to direct someday.

"It's a wise girl who knows what makes her happy," he said and winked at me.

So?

I have no idea why I did it, but I winked back! Part of it was him calling me a girl, and I guess I was getting into the role of being —acting in the role of— this Hallelujah Jones person. It seemed like something she would do. That is, wink and maybe flirt with someone with money to invest in a movie she wanted to be in.

I remembered that I wanted to ask Mr. Harreleson what the name of the picture was, and about that time, I realized that the assistant director was calling me. "Earth to Hallie?" he said, sounding amused. "Hallie Jones?" 

How many times had he called? I turned quickly in his direction, but I kinda, sorta forgot what I was wearing and what sort of accessories I now had. And how much they weighed. Maybe Amanda should have used stronger glue because as quick as you can say wardrobe malfunction, I had flashed the entire film crew before I could put my arms up to cover my assets.

I probably made it worse by squealing like a guinea pig so that anyone who hadn't been looking in the right direction turned to see.