Page 12 of Deck the Hauls

“I heard Emily yelling for help and thought she might be in trouble.” I cringed at my defensive tone.

“Well, as you can see, she’s fine. So if you don’t mind, we need to keep filming before the foam dissipates.” The man readjusted his ugly Christmas sweater.

“Foam?” I peered at the trees more closely. The white stuff wasn’t snow. It looked more like bubble bath. I walked over to a tree, swiped my finger through the foam and sniffed it. A detergent-like scent flooded my nostrils, sending heat flashing across my body. “What the hell is this made of? Has anyone checked if it’s safe for trees?”

“Ummm.” The man, presumably the director, glanced at a middle-aged woman with wavy bleach blond hair and an orange-toned tan behind him. “You’d better ask Sue. She’s our special effects coordinator.”

I raised my eyebrows at Sue.

“Um, I—I don’t know. I can see if the packaging says anything.” She looked around.

I clenched my jaw. Not good enough, Sue.

Sue grabbed a large plastic container with the words ‘Snow Machine Foam’ and studied the back. “Non-toxic to humans and animals,” she announced with a wide grin.

What about trees?

“Can I have a look?” I exhaled as I read the ingredients list. “It looks like it’ll be okay.” I grudgingly handed the container back to Sue. “But can you make sure the trees are rinsed off as soon as possible afterwards?”

“Of course we will. Won’t we, Sue?” The director glanced at his watch and frowned. He turned to me and opened his mouth, paused, and looked me up and down.

“Actually, since you’re here, do you have a spare half hour? We could do with an extra who looks like they work on a farm.”

“Absolutely not,” I said. “I need to get back to work.” I’d already received a text from George this morning asking if I wanted to be an extra on Saturday with her and most of our friends. I couldn’t think of anything worse.

“So you work here on the farm?” the director asked. “I’m sure Roz will be fine with you helping us out. I could speak to her if you want.”

Emily stepped off the box.

“Charles, this is Roz’s head farmer, Dana. I shadowed her on Tuesday.”

“Head farmer, eh?” Charles tilted his head. “Even better. If you don’t want to be an extra, would you mind running your eyes over some dialogue?”

Without waiting for my response Charles yelled to a pale, brown-haired man behind him. “Anthony! Can you give, er, Dana, the script of the scene about the tractor mishap so we can get her expert opinion.” He turned back. “It doesn’t have to be completely realistic, but at the moment it’s really not ringing true to me.”

I looked over at Emily, who mouthed, “Sorry.”

I sighed. I really didn’t have time for this. But the film would be representing Red Tractor Farm and, after ruining the last scene, I should probably help. Not only that, but it would be interesting to see Emily in action—and make sure they didn’t damage any more trees in the process. The fact that they’d destroyed the tree I cut down for them by sawing it in half already stung.

Charles glanced at his watch again. “We need to get back to filming. Anthony will find you a seat. And we’ll need complete silence, thanks.”

Clearly dismissed, I made my way over to Anthony who handed me some paper and a pen and ushered me to a plastic chair next to a fold-out table.

“Places, please,” Charles said, and Emily climbed back on the box. “Get the snow machine going, Sue.” Sue pressed a button on a large black machine and it began to whir, shooting out foam. “And...action!”

“Help! Help!” Emily cried.

My head jerked up. Emily sounded so panicked, my pulse picked up pace. She’s just acting. I fought the urge to go over and double check she was okay, just in case. My gaze lingered on her pink cheeks and lips, which were accentuated by bright red lipstick. It suited her.

I forced myself to focus back on the script in front of me. Jesus, these lines are cheesy. And a Christmas farmer would never say that. I aggressively drew a line across the dialogue and scribbled a note.

“Cut!” yelled Charles. “Okay, next scene. Emily, you stay there, and Austin will come rescue you. I want one camera on Austin and another on Emily. Don’t capture any of the box she’s standing on.”

A blond man with a bronze tan, wearing a firefighter outfit walked to the side of the set.

“And...action!”

Austin jogged in front of the cameras.