Chapter III

The sun's rays now bore threw the small porthole, filling up the tiny cabin with sunlight. Alice blinked languidly and looked to see Ann already up, her hair wrapped up in curlers, taking turns holding up different pieces from McKenzie's previously owned wardrobe. 'I still feel as those curlers were a waste of money. I see no difference after you use them.'

Ann made a face, dropping a lavender dress over the room's only chair and picking up a yellow one with floral print. 'I can tell and that is all that matters.' She twirled away from the oblong mirror to face Alice. 'What do you think?'

Her yellow hair with the yellow dress gave her an almost angelic aura. This is exactly what Alice said. Ann was pleased, she always enjoyed her sister's more verbose compliments, and laid it over the discarded lavender dress so she could slip out of her robe. 'What will you be wearing?'

Alice sat up, her auburn curls sticking up on one side as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. She shrugged lazily, 'I guess whatever is nearest to me.' She saw her sister's mortified expression. 'Oh, God's nightgown, then what do you suggest?'

'I'm just saying,' Ann quipped, immediately digging through her sister's suitcase. 'You are meeting your play write beau today, aren't you? Why not doll up just a tad.' She pulled out a dark gray skirt that hit mid shins and a deep turquoise blouse. 'Up you lazy la! Let me brush out your mane.'

Twenty minutes later, the Darrows were preened to perfection and made their way through the corridors that snaked through the ship and found themselves in the mess room. Denham, Preston, and another one of their crew were seated at a table, huddle around a piece of equipment. Two crew members were off to the side, one giving the other a shave. They could not see the man under the foam, but the temporary barber had only one eye and a cigar bit between his teeth and to the side of his mouth.

Denham spotted them first. 'Ann! Alice! Come in girls! Let me introduce you to the crew. This is Herb our cameraman.' He turned sideways to point at a portly man with white hair and think spectacles. His face was lined with years but warm. He smiled at the girls taking turns to shake each one's hand.

'Delighted to meet you, girls.' His water down eyes landed back on Ann. 'And may I say that is a lovely dress, Ann.'

Her cheeks brightened from the compliment. 'Oh, this old thing?' Her voice drawled. 'I just threw it on this morning.'

Alice groaned slightly and heard Preston whisper to Denham, 'Isn't that one of Maureen's costumes?'

Denham brushed it off and continued, gesturing towards a younger man hunched over a notebook, writing vigorously, 'I also don't believe you have met—'

'Oh, it's alright, Mr. Denham, I have heard all about him,' Ann said gaily. 'We are such fans of your work.' The man gave a bewildered look; Alice gave her sister a slightly crazed expression, silently willing her to stop talking. It did not work. 'I must say, Mr. Driscoll, you don't look a thing like your photograph.'

Alice noticed movement from the side and her breath caught in her throat. He was taller than expected, his lanky frame gave him an awkward grace as he moved up towards Ann, who still babbled on feign praise to the baffled crew member. She nudged her sister, 'Ann,' she hissed.

'Excuse me?' Said the man.

'Wait a minute, Ann—!' Denham tried to interrupt.

Ann leaned towards Alice, 'He's so much younger than the photo you showed me. And much better looking.'

Alice groaned more audibly and Denham tried to cut her off again, 'Ann! Please, stop!'

'It's just I figured him to be one of those self obsessed literary types. You know, the tweedy twerp with his nose in a book and his head up his—'

He held up his book to the side of her head and snapped it shut, startling Ann. She turned to face the noise and her expression went from annoyed to surprise to horror. There was a pause before he said, 'It's nice to meet you, Miss Darrow.' And then strode out of the room.

Alice covered her face with her hands, 'Oh God, Ann, if you could've have just listened to me for once.'

'Well how was I suppose to know who he was?' She snapped, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.

'Well there was the picture I fucking showed you,' she hissed back.

'Ladies,' Denham cleared his throat. 'Ann, dear, don't dwell on it. He'll be over it by the afternoon. Now please follow Preston for make up and costume. We want to get a couple of still shots of you and Mr. Baxter before we start shooting in a couple of days. Alice, follow me. I'll show you were Mr. Driscoll is staying, as I assume he just left abruptly to go type out some inspiration that must've hit him suddenly,' he cleared his throat. 'This way.'

They made their way down narrow stair wells, down to Venture's hold where the smell of animal engulfed them immediately. 'After a while, you hardly notice it,' Denham said, pulling out a white hankerchief to cover his mouth and nose. They passed rows of cages before coming to Jack Driscoll's homey cage setup. 'Knock, knock!' Denham called out blithely.

Jack, hunched over the typewriter, looked up, unamused. Alice locked onto his eyes. They were hazel; a burnt, orange flame danced around his pupil that faded into amber and finally a forest green out the outskirts of his iris, dark circles framing them. 'Hello, Carl,' his voice dry.

'Little bit of a mishap earlier,' he gaved an uneasy chuckle. 'Anyway, I wanted to introduce you to Alice Darrow, she is going to be your assistant for the remainder of the film.'

She took a couple steps forward, 'Hello,' she said shyly, reaching out her hand.

He gave a small smile and went back to typing, 'I told you I did not need one,' he stopped and looked back up at her. 'No offense.' She let her hand drop to her side, her heart following.

'Nonsense!' Denham pushed her forward. 'She's a darling, good with words. She'll help us brainstorm!'

'I'm nothing like my sister, if that helps my case at all,' she chirped.

Jack gave her another look, his eyes locking onto her. 'Whiskey, please.'

—

The next few days she tried for routine. Alice would wake up before her sister, slip out and into the kitchen where Lumpy, the one eyed barber, would be waiting with two mugs of coffee, black as Jack preferred and she learned to love. She found him, upright and waiting for her, typewriter out and a pen tucked behind his ear. 'Here you go,' she said as she sat the mug at the corner of his desk made out of crates.

'I ran the idea of offing the first mate by Denham yesterday,' Jack pulled the pen out and began making scratches across the page in hand. 'Bum rushed him with it. I think he liked it,' he looked up.

She took a sip, her cheeks flushed.

'Very dark.'

'I prefer tradgedies,' she said simply. 'Where are we now?'

Jack leaned back, 'Damn Denham wants more fluff in the dialogue. He wants the audience to know they're falling in love.'

Alice snorted. Ann was completely smitten with Bruce Baxter, obvious with the puppy dog eyes that were constantly glued to him. Baxter for one was very pleased with the constant adoration. 'So you write fluff then. Shouldn't be all that hard.'

'Your sister is easy to write about,' Jack mussed, mostly to himself. The words still sliced the air and into her ear drums. 'The golden muse, if I say so.'

She pushed the twinge of jealousy aside. Of course he was to think Ann was pretty, she was that and more. She gave a small sigh, 'Scene, Venture deck. The rugged, or as rugged as we can get that damn pretty boy,' Jack chortled, 'rugged sailor, leaned on the ship's railing glaring out at sea. Ann can flounce out and say, uh,' her voice perked up, micking her best starlet, '"I think this is awfully exciting! I've never been on a ship before!"'

He let out a laugh, a full fledged laugh that rocked his entire core. 'I love it!' He cried out.

She flushed. 'Now how does our rugged sailor respond to this?'

Jack pushed up from his chair, dropping his already velvetty voice another octave, '"Keep your distant from the railng, miss. I'd hate to see a pretty thing like you to slip overboard."' She did her best to keep a straight face, but burst into giggles. Jack cocked his head back, 'I see what you're saying, clearly not enough bravado.'

They continued the back and forth, breaking so she could run back for refills from Lumpy and for Jack to add kerosene to the lamps. The day waned away and soon Denham dropped in, 'You pair of verbal geniuses still working magic?'

'We have pages that you cannot even critique, Carl,' Jack called back. He stretched, arching his back. 'Supper ready?' He asked; Denham nodded. 'Alright, then.' He pushed himself up and walked over to Alice, who seated on some bags of feed. 'Come along Alice. Let's go get our brain food.' He offered to help her up; his was hand warm, his long fingers wrapping around her own and he pulled her up. He missed her smile as he ducked out of the cage and made for upstairs.