Chương 34: Chapter 33: Uncharted Waters (06/21/1983)

DATE: Tuesday, June 21, 1983 LOCATION: Cape Cod, Massachusetts LOCAL TIME: 10: 00 AM | Ferry to Martha's Vineyard The Atlantic was a slate-grey chop, roughly fifty-eight degrees. I stood at the rail of the ferry, looking down into the churning wake. The script called for a clumsy fall—a boy entranced by something in the water, leaning too far, and tumbling into the deep. Behind me, a young Ron Howard adjusted his baseball cap. He was stressing over the light. He was stressing over the schedule.

Mostly, he was stressing over drowning a child.

"Okay, Chad," Ron said, crouching down to my level. His voice was gentle, the kind you use on a skittish horse.

"The boat is moving at five knots. We have safety divers in the water. If you feel scared, we use the stunt double."

"I'm good, Ron," I said. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"It's a twenty-foot drop," Brian Grazer, the producer, warned.

"The insurance guys are sweating bullets." I suppressed a smile. In my old life, I'd jumped out of a C-130 into the pitch-black Mediterranean with eighty pounds of gear strapped to my chest. This wasn't a stunt. It was a bath.

"Action!" the Assistant Director yelled. I leaned over the rail. I let the prop coin drop. I extended my center of gravity past the point of no return. A normal kid would flail here. I didn't. I let gravity take me, my body going limp to sell the "accident." I hit the water. The shock was immediate, but I didn't gasp. A gasp kills you. I let the air out of my lungs in a controlled stream of bubbles to sink faster. Beneath the surface, I opened my eyes.

I hung there in the suspension, perfectly still, my hair floating around me like a halo. I held the pose for the camera. The "wonder." The "magic." When my lungs began to burn, I executed a powerful, efficient scissor kick that propelled me upward. I broke the surface, feigning a desperate gasp rather than taking a real one.

"Cut!" Ron screamed from the deck, his voice cracking with excitement.

"Print it! That was beautiful!" I didn't do it for the scale pay. I did it to prove a point to the studio. By executing the drop flawlessly on the first take, I had just saved the production thousands of dollars. I wasn't just an actor. I was a cost-saving measure. And I knew Uncle Jack would weaponize the time and budget I just saved the studio to negotiate a massive, three-picture payload for my development deal. In this town, efficiency bought leverage.