Circus Land

Darren had never driven this road before; Maria was navigating from the rear passenger seat and had fallen asleep some time ago. The other two in the car also seemed to be busy on their cellphones or electronic devices. The road was two lanes, few houses, and the moon was bright in the sky above them. Darren noticed as they drove, he saw fewer and fewer other vehicles on the road, but he did not worry much as it was just after midnight.

The four of them were all last-minute background actors added to a suspense film shot at an old orchard and winery. Their agency, Fantastic Film Inc., had contacted them all-around four in the afternoon. They needed to be there at six in the morning, and there was massive money in it for everyone involved. It was rare for background movie actors to be offered small speaking parts, and all of them jumped at the opportunity. Darren had the most reliable auto and a full tank of gas, so he offered to drive. The others did not seem to mind too much, and Darren enjoyed the extra hundred dollars and mileage that no one else knew about.

Maria woke as the car went over a bump in the road; she wiped her eyes for a moment as she looked out the window. “Where the hell are we?”

Darren looked in the rear-view mirror. “Your directions?”

Maria looked at her cellphone, “How long was I asleep?” she asked.

Darren, “Maybe forty minutes or so.”

“Shit,” she exclaimed, getting the attention of everyone in the car. “We missed out turn.”

Darren slowed the vehicle as Vladimir raised his voice, “We are lost?"

Maria looked at her phone for a moment, “I will correct it, give me a moment.”

Anika looked out of the front passenger seat window, “It is a little creepy out there, but it is late at night.”

On the edge of a hillside, two cloaked figures stood; one looked to the other, “This will do!”

The other figure waved his cloaked arms into the air for a moment as a slight breeze began, his boney hand emerging from his dark robes. “It has begun.”

Darren pointed ahead as he drove. “Crossroad ahead, we can get this out.”

“AH, ah guys,” said Maria in a shocked tone, “I got some news.”

“We are lost,” said Vladimir as he stared at the inside roof lining of the car.

“No, we are freaking here!” exclaimed Maria. “Turn right on this street! We are under a kilometres away!”

Darren looked into the backseat, and Maria held up her phone, “How the Fu..”

Maria interrupted him, “Turn, turn already.”

Darren turned the vehicle down the road, not believing they had come across a shortcut that saved nearly an hour's drive. They had been driving since before five in the afternoon, and everyone was tired and hungry, and everyone needed to go to pee. He accelerated on the windy road wanting this journey to be over with as soon as it could be.

At this point, all four were very aware of their surroundings and starting to get very excited. Though their ages ranged from nineteen to fifty-nine, this was a thrilling moment for all of them. The entire group enjoyed background work, but the opportunity to have a role that involved speaking and being mentioned in a film's credits was a wonderful opportunity. All had received a brief description of their parts and the few lines each would have to learn for the movie. The way it is described, it appeared at least three of the four parts might have additional lines in future drafts of the script.

The car turned up a steep hill as Darren saw the first Theatrical marker on the road. This was a good sign that they were truly near the filming location. The moonlight helped light their way as the car climbed up the steep, narrowing road. The car suddenly was on top of the hill, looking down at the valley below; Darren slowed the auto as the others looked out the driver’s side windows to see the valley below.

A large marker sign indicated he was to turn right three hundred meters ahead; Darren placed the vehicle's high beams on and slowed suddenly as both he and Anika thought they saw a figure on the left side of the road. As the car drove forward, the figure appeared to disappear.

Anika laugh was creepy as she said, “Right, this is some kind of haunted street,”

Maria shook the seat in front of her, “Enough already, get the creeps when we are filming.”

Darren saw the marker and turned the vehicle to the right and onto a gravel road, following another sign that indicated they were almost to their destination. “I hope someone is here; it is just after one, in the morning, and call time for the crew was not until four,” said Darren.

Vladimir looked at his cellphone, “We were told to get our asses here as soon as possible, so someone should be up and around.”

The car pulled through a large pole yellow pole gate that was wide open and then bounced over a cattle guard. On either side of the pole, the gate had barbed wire fencing at least six to eight feet tall. “That is overkill or what,” commented Darren as they drove through.

A few hundred meters ahead, the car stopped in front of a large black iron gate that was closed. One large light was shining on the gate, “Wonderful,” said Maria. “Seems no one is at home.”

Darren got out of the car first and walked toward the gate. Vladimir stepped out next, followed by the two ladies. Everyone stretched awkwardly and began to look around them. Darren looked at the gate and the strange-looking gargoyles and other mystical beasts on the iron gate. A sign on the gate indicated early crew and actors were to honk three times and wait for security to arrive. The actors also were cautioned about the dangers in the woods.

While the other three went to the gate, Darren returned to the car and honked the horn three times, each honk being a little longer than the honk before. He wanted to make sure the noise would wake any sleeping security. The others were all looking through the gate as the last long honk echoed out; it was sure to wake anyone up, or at least that was what Darren hoped.

Darren stepped away from the vehicle, saying, “I am sure someone is going to come up quickly and give me shit for how long that last blast was.”

The four stood near the gate for five minutes, with no signs of life or noises of engines; at nearly ten minutes, Darren walked back to his car. He was preparing to blast his horn again when a set of lights appeared on the other side of the iron gates. A moment later, they could hear the sound of a labouring older motor approaching. The shape of an old eighties pickup truck soon appeared as it moved toward the gate.

A set of bright lights on the roof came on for a moment lighting up the whole area around the gate and fifty meters beyond them. The lights turned back off as the truck slowed to a squeaking halt. After a moment, both doors to the pickup opened, and two people stepped out of the truck.

“And you are?” a voice from the driver echoes out.

“Actors from the Vancouver area,” replied Maria as loud as she could.

The passenger from the pickup stepped out of the shadow of the headlights and moved toward the gate. She was a heavy-set woman in her thirties that looked like she would be happiest in a roller derby outfit or some corrections guard. “I am Leese. The old guy is Warren; we are the night security around here.”

Warren walked closer with his flashlight beaming at all four arrivals and then around the bush near the road. “Loud enough were you,” he said with a halfway grin. Before anyone on the other side of the gate could answer, he continued, “Around here, we worry about waking the dead!”

All four of the actors looked at each other for a moment without saying a word; Leese spoke up, “Dead, yha right. They are buried too deep; give me your names, please,”

Leese checked all four of their names against her palm pilot before Warren unbolted the gate. Leese explained that they were to follow their truck and not take any of the smaller other roads, or they might get lost or something worse. Once they were curious, they would be able to wash up and crash for a few hours if they wanted to. The first crew would be arriving in a few hours.

The four got into their car, and they waited as the large gate slowly opened for them to enter. They all silently wondered what type of people owned such a gothic gate in such a rural wine had had just producing area. As the car entered, all four looked around as the gate closed, and the two security people entered their old truck and moved around in front of the car.

The truck drove for several minutes then stopped suddenly on the road at a curve. Leese got out of the truck and walked back towards Darren’s side of the car, and Darren rolled down the window as Leese got closer. “Problem?” he said curiously.

“We just got a call; we need to take the road to the right after the curve stays the course and go straight till you see the large white tents.”

The four looked at each other as Leese returned to her truck; the truck suddenly moved off the road onto a rough right set of tracks. Darren moved his car along the curve and followed the road straight ahead. After a short time, they could see large white tents, a food truck and various equipment trucks and vans. Darren parked his vehicle near several other cars on one side of a large tent. The four stepped out of the vehicle and were surprised by the limited lighting on the circus site. They saw several generators at one end of the compound and were sure that the site would be lit up like a Christmas village once the crew arrived.

Darren stepped out of his car and pointed toward two washroom trailers; he opened his trunk and pulled out several flashlights. He gave one to Maria, “I am going to the bathroom.”

Vladimir had already started to walk off to the right toward several different smaller tents. Vladimir dropped his bag inside a tent marked “Extra One.” He looked around with his phone light for a place to hang his wardrobe. He heard a cough from behind him and a foul smell he had not experienced since his youth. He turned around to see the silhouette of a man smoking against the far wall.

“Подойти ближе,” a strong accented voice in Russian said.

“I do not believe smoking is permitted in the tents; who are you?” he said cautiously as he kept this distance.

“Ah, right, English,” it was never my best language. “Come see your father.”

Vladimir moved a little closer; his light shone on the face of his father. “What is this! My father died fighting in Afghanistan in 1986?”

The man stood up; he was wearing a Russian Officers overcoat, military hat, military shirt, tie and trousers. He laughed loudly, “Privet!”