Take Four (14 page)

Four years
…Cody could breathe again—even if it took effort. With a simple argument, the judge had shaved off a year, so maybe he’d cut her remaining sentence in half if she testified. Of course, by doing so his mother would remain in danger—maybe for the rest of her life. The possibility was daunting, more than Cody could think about.

He closed his eyes and suddenly he was in the cage again, a
prisoner of war in the middle of Iraq, and a militant soldier was blindfolding him and spinning him around, jabbing the butt of a gun into his stomach. And his captor was shouting something Cody couldn’t understand. He gasped and opened his eyes, and the scene from Iraq disappeared. What was happening to him? Why the flashbacks now, when he’d been home for two years?

He grabbed the back of the bench in front of him and steadied himself. The judge was going on. “Ms. Coleman, while at Indiana Women’s Prison you will be assigned work duty in the laundry facility. I’m also making a note that you should receive ongoing drug counseling while in residence at the prison. Perhaps when you are released next time you’ll be more successful at life on the outside.” He rapped his gavel. “The court will take a fifteen-minute recess.”

Cody watched the judge leave, as if the woman standing before him were no one special, just another lowdown drug dealer headed back to prison. The people in the audience stood and talked in quiet tones to their attorneys or family members. Cody couldn’t hear any of it. The only voice he could hear was the pitiful whimpering coming from his mother. “Cody…”

His eyes met hers, and she shook her head in small frantic movements. Her face was grayish white, and again she looked ready to faint again. “Cody…help me.” Her voice wasn’t so much audible as it was a quiet muttering. But he could read her lips, and he knew deep in his heart every word she was saying. “Please, Cody…don’t let them take me. Please…”

He had no idea what to do. It was one thing to fight a war and survive capture by a foreign army. But this? How was he supposed to handle this? Was he supposed to ask for a second chance or tell the attorney to push for a still shorter sentence? He clenched his jaw and released the hold he had on the bench. He reached her just as the bailiff was approaching with handcuffs.

“Don’t we…don’t we get some time?”

The bailiff gave him a puzzled look, but after a few seconds a slight bit of pity filled the guy’s eyes. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“Yeah, but…” Cody looked at his mother’s attorney. “We need time. I have to tell her goodbye.”

“The sentence is already in effect.” The attorney held his worn briefcase at his side. “I’m sorry. I did the best I could.”

Cody thanked the man, but he didn’t want to talk to the attorney. These were his final moments with his mom. She was shivering harder now, and Cody wished he would’ve brought her a coat or a sweater—something to put over her shoulders, so she didn’t have to go away so freezing cold.

The lawyer left without another word, and now just Cody and the bailiff remained with her. “Couldn’t I bring her back tomorrow? After we pack her things?”

“She violated parole.” The bailiff seemed confused. “You should’ve known she be sent away today.”

“It’s o-o-okay, Cody.” His mother was no longer crying out for help, begging Cody to save her from being hauled away. Like the bailiff said, her sentence was already in effect. In a few hours, she’d be signed in at the women’s prison, issued her orange jumpsuit, and given a bunk like the other inmates.

There was nothing Cody could do about it. “Mom…” The bailiff handcuffed her while people in the courtroom watched. Cody felt his heart breaking, felt his lungs bursting from the sadness of it. He wanted to scream at everyone in the room to look away. This was his mother. She deserved some respect, after all. But instead he only reached out and put his hand on her shoulder.

“I need to take her.” The bailiff clearly had a job to do. He shook his head, indicating Cody didn’t have the right to touch his prisoner or stop him in any way.

Cody withdrew his hand. “I’ll bring you your things. I’ll come see you, Mom. I will.”

“I’m sorry.” She started crying, quietly but with an intensity
that shook her soul. “I’m so sorry, Cody…you don’t de-de-de-serve this.” Alarm filled her eyes. “And watch out for Benny…please, Cody…stay away from him.”

“I will.”

The bailiff began to lead her from the room. “We have to go.”

“Mom…pray.” This time he spoke louder than before. “Pray to Jesus!” He didn’t care who was listening or what sort of scene they were making. If this was his last time to talk to his mother before they locked her away, he had to tell her the only thing that mattered.

She craned her neck, using every bit of strength to look over her shoulder one last time at him. She didn’t cry out or scream or weep or say any actual words. But she did the only thing that mattered in light of what he’d asked her to do.

She nodded.

B
AILEY WAS QUIET ON THE WAY
to the screen test, even though her nerves were rattling wildly inside her. She wanted to be thrilled about the audition, thanking God for the opportunity. But her mind was preoccupied by something that had been troubling her since Sunday. What in the world was wrong with Cody?

“You okay?” Her mom was driving. Again Bailey was grateful her mom had time like this, time to take her to the audition and stay by her side making sure Bailey had a confidante if she needed one.

“I’m fine.” She looked out the window at the maple trees that lined Main Street. “Just thinking about Cody.”

“You still haven’t heard from him?”

“We talked for a few minutes today.” Bailey turned toward her mother. “I told him about the audition.” She paused. “He seemed happy for me, I guess. He said he was tired, something about getting off the phone so he could study for a test tomorrow.”

“Well,” Her mom’s expression said she didn’t feel Cody’s explanation was far-fetched. “He’s taking a full load of classes. Maybe the test had him distracted.”

“Maybe.” Bailey leaned her head back against the seat. “But I know him better than that. He isn’t himself. Something’s wrong.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it later.” Her mom patted her knee. “He wouldn’t want you worrying about it now. Right?”

“Right.” Bailey was quiet again. Maybe that was it…maybe Cody was worried about her audition, thinking she was going to
get the part and fall for Brandon Paul. He’d done this before…thinking she deserved someone better, a different life, a different sort of guy than him. She pictured the way he’d looked sitting on the porch with her Sunday night before the call from his mother. The depth and love in his eyes. No, it wasn’t possible. He wasn’t going to walk away again. Not after all they’d found together this past summer. They pulled into the parking lot and Bailey let her worries about Cody go. “Pray for me, will you?”

Her mom took her hand and spoke a brief but powerful prayer, asking the Lord to shine through Bailey and make this performance her best ever. They left the car, and as they neared the front door Bailey reminded herself what was happening. She was about to do a screen test with Brandon Paul! She could feel a smile light up her face, and she turned dancing eyes at her mom. “Can you believe this?”

Her mom’s eyes lit up and she did a stationary little dance while Bailey opened the front door. Once inside it was only a minute before Keith Ellison entered from the other room and welcomed them. He explained that the screen test would last about an hour, and that Bailey’s mom was welcome to stay—same as before. Then he ushered them in.

Bailey exhaled in small, short bursts, forcing herself to stay in the moment and not drop from disbelief. She was about to meet Brandon Paul.
The
Brandon Paul. She steadied herself and walked behind Mr. Ellison, and suddenly there he was—America’s favorite new actor—the star of NTM’s hottest teen series.

He was talking to Dayne and Eleanor Ainsworth at one end of the room. Another man was with them—someone Bailey didn’t recognize. But before she could think about who he might be, Brandon turned toward them and his eyes met hers. His grin was immediate and genuine. “Bailey?”

“Yes.” Her mouth was dry, and she had no idea how she’d screen test with him. But then, just when she wasn’t sure how
she’d survive another second, she remembered her mother’s advice. He was just a person, like anyone else. She exhaled through pursed lips and held out her hand as he approached. “Hi.” She smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s mine.” His eyes were flirty and there was a power about him, a charisma that filled the room. Brandon held her gaze for a long moment before turning to Bailey’s mom. “You must be Mrs. Flanigan.”

“Yes.” She shook Brandon’s hand, nowhere near as bowled over as Bailey. But still, she seemed affected by his charm. “Thanks for flying out.”

Brandon looked straight into Bailey’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Heat filled Bailey’s cheeks, and she wondered if a screen test was really necessary. She was in love with Cody, but clearly she and Brandon had chemistry. Her mom excused herself to a chair in the far corner again, and Keith explained what was about to happen. The man at the table was the director: Channing O’Neal, a veteran with two Academy Awards in recent years.

Only after meeting Mr. O’Neal did Bailey truly understand the breadth and scope of this movie, how huge it could be, and how many people might be affected by it. The message of
Unlocked
was so powerful—strong enough to change a generation.
Get a grip
, she told herself. This was a mission field. She was here because God had granted her a place in their midst. And He’d only done that because He wanted her to make a difference, to be a bright light for Him. Enough being star-struck—even if Brandon was so very, very good looking. And taller than she had expected.
Focus
, she ordered herself. He wasn’t Cody. And he wasn’t the reason she was here. God’s plan for her life—that was the reason.

The group of them sat in an informal circle, and Andi’s dad
went over what they were looking for, why they were gathered. “Holden Harris is a very special teenage boy.”

Brandon winked at her, and again Bailey felt her cheeks grow hot. “Very special,” he mouthed.

“Brandon.” Mr. Ellison wasn’t amused. “If I could have your attention for a solid five minutes, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sorry.” He grew serious. “Just looking for chemistry.”

“Chemistry will take care of itself.” Dayne raised an eyebrow at Brandon. “We need you to be on your game here.”

Brandon nodded, the silliness from a moment ago gone completely. Bailey ordered herself to not look at him again until it was time for the screen test. Mr. Ellison went on about how only the pure love of Ella Reynolds and the miracle of a song could finally reach through Holden’s prison of autism.

“In this scene, Ella and Holden are in the musical theater room, on stage and alone for the first time.”

Bailey knew the scene well. Ella was practicing, singing a solo by herself, when Holden walked in. He was drawn to her voice, to the song, and in the process he walked on stage. Instead of rocking or withdrawing to a corner of the room, he took his place alongside her and began to sing along. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened for Holden. The scene was a breakthrough, and it reinforced in Ella’s mind that it was possible for Holden to find a way out, possible for him to be unlocked.

“We’ve talked about whether we’ll have you sing or not, and after reviewing some of your other work we’ve decided to let you do it. If we cast you, that is.” Andi’s dad took his place at the table alongside Mr. O’Neal, Ms. Ainsworth, and Dayne. “Since the music for the movie will be an original piece, today you’ll sing something you’re familiar with. You’ve played Belle on stage in
Beauty and the Beast
before, right?”

“Yes, sir.” Bailey tried not to gulp. “For CKT, but it was a
while ago.” She could feel Brandon’s eyes on her, but she wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t do anything to further upset Keith Ellison.

“We have the music for the song ‘Home.’” Andi’s dad smiled. “If you could start the screen test by singing along with the music.” He looked at Brandon. “Then you’ll come in. Obviously we don’t have a stage or stairs here, but you get the idea.”

He handed both of them copies of the script and asked them to step into the next room. “Take five minutes together. Work on blocking and look over your lines. Then we’d like you to come back and give it a shot.”

Brandon nodded, his expression no longer even the slightest bit humorous. He nodded at Mr. Ellison and the others. “Thank you.”

Bailey followed his lead, thanking the professionals before following Brandon into the adjacent room. As soon as they were alone, he turned to her and grinned. “Talk about uptight.”

She wanted to find common ground with him, but not this way. A smile tugged at her lips and she allowed the slightest shrug. “He’s doing his job.”

“Right.” Brandon gave her a mock serious look and a salute. “I guess we better do ours.”

“Okay.” She looked at the script. “Let’s read our parts, then we can block it.”

“Listen to you.” His tone told her he was impressed. He elbowed her lightly. “Like a pro.” He studied her. “There’s something special about you, Miss Bailey Flanigan. I have a feeling we’re about to become very good friends.”

“First,” she held up the script so he wouldn’t see her heart pounding inside her chest, “we’d better read our parts. Otherwise they’ll find someone else.”

He chuckled as if the idea wasn’t even remotely possible. For a minute they read their lines, though Bailey could hardly concentrate,
his nearness a constant distraction, his cologne filling her senses. It took everything to focus on the pages of the script.

Again Bailey was grateful she loved the book. She’d read it several times, and with just a quick read of the scene she knew the part. Mr. Ellison was right—the scene was emotional and pivotal. They’d have to pull this off if they were going to convince an audience that here—in these lines—laid the keys to unlocking Holden’s isolation.

“Okay,” Brandon put his hand on her shoulder. He hesitated and laughed, a light-hearted almost embarrassed laugh. “Sorry. You have the most amazing eyes. They make me forget what I’m doing.”

“Thanks.” Bailey felt herself buzzing. Was this part of his usual approach with a possible costar? Or was he really attracted to her? She thought about how she’d describe this to Cody later.
He’s just a person…
she told herself.
Keep your focus.

He gave a slight shake of his head, as if he had to try something to make him come to his senses since they were running out of time. “Let’s try again.” He put his hand on her shoulder once more. “I’ll see you singing and I’ll walk up to you like this.”

Bailey giggled. “I don’t think Holden touches her.”

“He should.” Brandon held her eyes again. “If he had any sense.”

“Brandon…” She made an attempt at a stern look. He had a way of making everything else fade away. No wonder he’d won the hearts of American teenage girls. She would tell Cody everything later, how Brandon could turn on the charm at will. She concentrated on the script once more. “Let’s have you walk up and look at me.”

“That’ll be easy.”

She gave him another look, and just like that Mr. Ellison opened the door and motioned for them to return. “You’re ready, I assume?”

“Definitely.” Again Brandon’s voice was serious, the consummate professional.

Bailey had no idea how they’d pull off a screen test with so little practice. Her character was in charge for this scene, so all she could do was hope he could follow. She took her place in front of the camera. Again an
X
marked the spot where she was clearly supposed to stand, and so she went to it.

The director, Mr. O’Neal, stood and moved to the iPod and speakers on a small table near the sidewall. “The song’s cued up.” He nodded to Dayne. “Go ahead and run the camera.”

Dayne clicked a button on the camera and Keith Ellison nodded. “Camera’s rolling.”

Eleanor stood. “Why don’t you both introduce yourself for the reel, please.”

Bailey didn’t wait to be asked twice. She said her name the way she’d said it last time, and then she glanced at Brandon. He, too, gave his name and age—although she sensed a slight bit of humorous sarcasm in his tone, as if Brandon Paul needed no introduction. His attitude rubbed her the wrong way—but she didn’t let the fact show.

“Ready?” Eleanor asked them. She didn’t wait for an answer, but pointed to the director, who clicked the play button on the stereo.

The music began, and gradually Bailey felt every distraction fall away. “Home” was the perfect piece for this moment because it fit the mood and because Holden couldn’t connect with people even at home, where he was loved. Since he’d succumbed to autism fifteen years earlier, he’d lived inside his mind, non-communicative even where he was most comfortable.

Bailey looked off camera, to the right. Brandon positioned himself off to her left, where she wasn’t supposed to notice him until he was almost beside her. The opening lines swept her away, and she sang them with all the emotion she could muster. Suddenly
she was truly caught off guard by a presence beside her, a presence bigger than life.

She glanced to the left, and there was Brandon. Only he was no longer the young, brash actor who had done everything in his power to flirt with her, tease her, and come on to her in the past half hour.

He was Holden Harris.

The way he walked and held his head was different, and his eyes looked vacant, his glances only furtively reaching her face. She kept singing, and right on cue the director cut the music.

“Holden…” Bailey believed she was Ella. “I didn’t see you come in.”

He swayed a little and looked back toward the imaginary door he would’ve entered through. “The music…” he met her eyes, and this time there was more there, as if he truly wanted to connect. “You sing very…very pretty.”

“Thank you.” Bailey turned to him, careful not to touch him or startle him in anyway. Then she launched into a brief mono logue about the song, and why it spoke to her heart.

“Here.” Brandon touched his heart, his eyes childlike. “It talks to me here.”

The scene went another minute, and then Eleanor stood. “Cut. That’s all.” She looked at the men in the room, all of whom were back at the table, clearly gripped by what they’d just seen play out before them.

“Wow.” Mr. O’Neal wiped his brow. “I liked it.”

“Very much.” Eleanor grinned at Brandon. “You’ve studied.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m impressed.”

Bailey had almost forgotten about her mom sitting in the corner, and now she caught a glance from her, a look that said what had just happened in this room went beyond anyone’s greatest hope for
Unlocked
.

“Would it be okay if Bailey and I get a Starbucks?” Brandon turned innocent eyes to the director and then to Mr. Ellison. “Just fifteen minutes or so?”