Movie For Dogs (3 page)

“A video is
not
better than a book!” Andi protested. “
Nothing
is better than a book! You can hold a book in your hands and smell the pages and read it in the bathtub!”

“Is that why you hog the bathroom for hours?” Bruce asked her. “How do you soap yourself if you’re busy sniffing pages?” He had expected Andi to be thrilled with this new proposal, and here she was, griping about it before they’d even discussed it. “It’s the story that matters, isn’t it? You want people to know about Bobby, and this way they won’t just read about him, they’ll see him. And
dogs
will see him. Dogs can’t read, but they can watch DVDs. You know how much Bully Bernstein enjoys movies.”

Andi nodded, brightening a little. She would never forget her first glimpse of that overweight bulldog sprawled on the sofa in the Bernsteins’
living room, watching
Lady and the Tramp.
Bully had been the subject of the lead story in the first edition of
The Bow-Wow News.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “Dogs probably would like a video. But how will we film it and where will we get the actors?”

“My video camera will be perfect for this,” Bruce said. “I can do the editing in the photo lab at school. Tell me the plot of your book. How large a cast will we need?”

“Well, there’s Bobby, the old basset hound,” Andi began. “He’s in love with Juliet, the poodle who lives next door. Bobby can’t visit her, because her cruel owner, Mr. Rinkle, has put up a big iron wall between the houses. One day Bobby gets out of his yard and runs down the alley and tries to get into Juliet’s yard. Mr. Rinkle catches him and throws him in his toolshed. Then Mr. Rinkle decides he enjoys dognapping, and he dognaps all the dogs in the neighborhood and stuffs them in with Bobby.”

“That’s a lot of action,” Bruce said, beginning to feel excited. “I could get some dramatic footage of Mr. Rinkle grabbing the dogs. How does the story end?”

“Bobby convinces the dogs to work as a team,” Andi said. “They climb on top of each other to form
a pyramid with Bobby at the top. Then, all together, when Bobby gives the command, they take a big breath and swell up like balloons and push Bobby up through the roof. He pops out and frees the other dogs, and they all run home.”

“Great!” Bruce said. “This should be a cinch to film. We won’t need any human actors except Mr. Rinkle, and we know a lot of dogs we can use as extras. We can film it in our backyard. We don’t have a wall or a toolshed, but we do have a chain-link fence, and Tim and I can build a shed.”

“Tim!” Andi exclaimed. “Why does Tim have to be involved in this? This is our movie — yours and mine! It’s not like the newspaper, where we needed Tim to be the publisher.”

“I need him to help me build the shed,” Bruce said. “Tim’s got the tools and scrap lumber. Besides, he’s better at things like that than I am. We’ll need to get the shed built fast so we can do the filming next weekend. We’ve got a very tight deadline.”

“If you’re bringing in Tim, then I’m bringing in Debbie,” Andi said. “It isn’t fair to include your best friend and not mine.”

“We don’t need Debbie,” Bruce objected. “Debbie’s a ding-a-ling. There’s nothing for her to
do except distract you. You’ve got to write the film script while Tim and I build the shed.”

“Debbie can be a part of the cast,” Andi said. “She can play the role of one of the dog owners. In fact, she can be
all
the owners! She can wear disguises and first be the owner of one dog and then of another, and grieve and cry because she can’t afford to pay the ransom. I can’t wait to get started! I’m certain we can win this contest!”

The zombie-like girl from the breakfast table had vanished as quickly as she had materialized. Andi’s eyes were sparkling and she was on fire with enthusiasm. Bruce realized that Aunt Alice had been right. All Andi had needed to bring her back to life was a new challenge.

“Okay,” he said, giving in because he didn’t want to argue with her. “Debbie can grieve for the victims and be our casting director. That will keep her out of our hair while you’re writing the script.”

Constructing the toolshed turned out to be less of a problem than Bruce had anticipated, because Tim suggested that they build only the front of the shed.

“That’s how they do it in Hollywood,” he said as the boys lugged the lumber from Tim’s side yard across the street and down the alley to the Walkers’
backyard. “In movies, when they show a row of houses, they’re usually not real. They’re just fake fronts, called facades. We’ll build a facade that looks like the front of a toolshed. When Mr. Rinkle shoves the dogs through the door, they’ll come right out the back. Then one of us can grab them and bring them around to the front so Mr. Rinkle can stuff them through again. He’ll have an endless supply of victims.”

“What about when Bobby bursts through the roof?” Bruce asked. “If we use a facade, there’ll be nothing to support a rooftop.”

“We won’t need to actually show the rooftop,” Tim said. “You can film the facade straight on but from a low angle, and the girls and I will be hiding behind it. When you’re ready for Bobby to appear, we’ll give him a boost. His head will suddenly pop out over the top of the facade, and it will look like he’s come through the roof, even though there isn’t one. By the way, who’s going to play the part of Bobby? The only basset I know about is Delaney Belanger’s dog, and the last time I saw him, he had mange and his hair was falling out.”

“We’ll change the basset to an Irish setter,” Bruce said. “That way we can use Red.”

“Andi won’t go for that,” Tim told him with certainty. He’d come to know his friend’s stubborn sister all too well when they’d worked together on the newspaper. “She’ll throw a fit if we don’t stick exactly to her story line.”

“She’ll have to go along with it,” Bruce said. “She won’t have a choice. We don’t have a basset, so we’re going to have to use Red. In real life Red did get dognapped along with a bunch of other dogs. In her book Andi made him a basset, so now she can change him back again.”

Andi and Debbie were seated at the kitchen table, preparing a list of dogs to invite to be cast members, when Bruce, with Tim trailing reluctantly behind him, announced his decision that Red was going to be Bobby.

Tim’s prediction was accurate. Andi was outraged.

“In my story Bobby is a basset — a
basset
!” she said vehemently. “Bruce, I told you that Bobby’s a basset! Let’s run an ad in the paper and see if we can find one.”

“We can’t afford to run ads in the paper,” Bruce told her. “Besides, people who answer an ad would expect their bassets to be paid, and we don’t have the money to do that. And the rules of the contest
say this has to be based on
our
dog’s story. The star of the video has to belong to us.”

“But Bobby is supposed to be old!” Andi argued. “That’s the whole point of my story. Red’s shiny and young-looking. He doesn’t fit the part.”

“We can sprinkle him with cornstarch,” Bruce said. “That will make him gray.”

“We could do the same thing with Bebe,” Andi said as a new idea occurred to her. “If Bobby can’t be a basset, then I want him to be a dachshund. Bebe belongs to us just as much as Red does. Why shouldn’t
she
win a chance to go to Hollywood and be famous?”

“Bebe looks like a long fat worm,” Bruce said. “Bebe is not star material.”

“She is!” Andi cried. “She’s brilliant and sensitive and talented!”

Debbie said, “I’m the casting director, and I’m casting Bebe.”

When Andi had insisted on Debbie’s being part of the project, Bruce had been afraid that exactly this sort of thing would happen. No matter what outrageous idea his sister came up with, Debbie would leap to her support.

“There’s no way that Bebe can play that part,” he
said firmly. “Bobby has to unlatch the gate to get out of his yard. He’ll also have to unlatch the door to the toolshed to let the other dogs escape. Bebe doesn’t know how to do that.”

“She can learn!” Andi said. “I can teach her!”

“There isn’t time to train her,” Bruce said. “It took me a month to teach Red Rover that trick. Besides, a dachshund’s too low to the ground to reach the latch. She’d hurt her back if she tried.”

“Oh, all right,” Andi said ungraciously. “I suppose it will have to be Red. But I want you to get a lot of close-ups of Bebe so talent scouts will be enchanted by her. If Red goes to Hollywood, I want her to go, too.”

“What about Bobby’s girlfriend, Juliet?” Debbie asked them. “The rules don’t say that you have to own the costar. Maybe we could use my dog, Lola. A Chinese crested hairless is so exotic.”

Lola wasn’t really a Chinese crested hairless, but Debbie kept her shaved so she looked like one.

“In my story, Juliet is a poodle,” Andi said. “I want to stick to the story as much as possible. We do know a poodle — Snowflake Swanson. She can be Bobby’s sweetheart.”

“Do you think Mrs. Swanson will agree to that?” Tim asked doubtfully. “After all, Snowflake is a show dog. Mrs. Swanson might want to charge us for using her.”

“Snowflake is a has-been,” Debbie said. “When I was doing undercover work for the gossip column, I learned that Snowflake hasn’t placed in a dog show in years. Mrs. Swanson should be thrilled for Snowflake to be in a movie. Lots of washed-up beauty queens become actresses.”

“Who will we get to play Mr. Rinkle?” Tim asked. It was the question they all had been avoiding. “It’ll have to be one of our dads, but not mine. He’s so shy he won’t even play charades.”

“Mine won’t do it either,” Debbie said. “We’ll need to film on a weekend, and he’d never give up his golf games. So that just leaves Mr. Walker. What do you think, Bruce?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Bruce said. “But we hardly see our dad on weekends. He’s always working, even if it’s at home at his computer.”

“I’m sure we can talk him into it,” Andi said. “He won’t need to learn a lot of lines. All he’ll have to do is say, ‘Ha, ha, ha.’”

However, when they approached him, Mr. Walker
told them regretfully that although he was eager to encourage them in their creative projects, he wouldn’t be available on the coming weekend.

“I’m going to have to spend both Saturday and Sunday preparing a report for an important meeting,” he said. “If you’re willing to wait until the next weekend, it’s possible I might be able to find some time then.”

“This can’t wait,” Bruce told him. “The deadline for submissions is April thirtieth, and I’ll have to get in line to use the editing bay at school. If we don’t do the filming next weekend, we might as well bag it. Our video won’t be finished in time.”

“We
have
to enter it!” Andi cried. “I’ve already told Bebe about it. She’s all excited!”

They sat silent for a moment, contemplating possibilities.

Then their eyes met, and they nodded simultaneously.

“We have to use the weapon at hand,” Bruce said. “Since the iron wall in your story is now a chain-link fence, and your basset is now an Irish setter, is there any reason why the villain can’t be
Mrs.
Rinkle?”

“How close would I have to get to the dogs?” Aunt Alice asked. “Would I have to touch them?”

“Yes,” Bruce admitted. “But you wouldn’t have to cuddle them. You’d just scoop them up and shove them through a door. You could wear long sleeves and gloves and maybe a face mask. You know those pollen masks they advertise on television?”

“I’ve seen those ads,” Aunt Alice said. “I suppose it might do the job. Especially if I take an allergy pill beforehand and hold the dogs down low, away from my face.”

“It’s a very low door,” Bruce assured her. “Once you get the dogs down to that level, you can shove them through with your knees.”

“That might work,” Aunt Alice acknowledged. “I do want to participate in this worthy endeavor.
After all, I’m the one who suggested it. When will you need me on the set?”

“Next Saturday,” Bruce said. “We’ll do all the big scenes then, including the ones that you’re in. We’ll film some minor scenes during the week, after school, in order to get a head start. Like the one where Bobby is sitting by the fence, dreaming about Juliet. And the scenes where Debbie is grieving. You won’t need to be there for those.”

“But won’t you be getting the scenes out of order?” Aunt Alice asked him. “Don’t I have to snatch the dogs before Debbie starts grieving?”

“In the story, yes, but not in the filming,” Bruce explained. “I can film the scenes in any order I want and rearrange them during editing. Then we’re going to have to make an audiotape of Andi reading the story so viewers will understand what the dogs are thinking. There’s a lot of technical stuff involved in filmmaking.”

The production schedule was complicated by their having to spend so much of each weekday at school. On Tuesday, Andi faked a stomachache so she could stay home and work all day on the script. Because Mr. and Mrs. Walker were both at work,
she didn’t have to lie in bed and act sick, and was able to accomplish a lot. However, all four children could not claim stomachaches simultaneously without arousing suspicion, so they tried to cram as much activity as possible into the few precious hours between when school let out and when they were expected home for dinner.

In those after-school hours, Bruce and Tim constructed the toolshed and Debbie canvassed the neighborhood for dog actors. By Wednesday, she was able to report proudly that she had assembled a cast of eight in addition to Red Rover and Bebe.

Mrs. Swanson had happily agreed to Snowflake’s playing the part of Juliet and had even volunteered to take her to the beauty parlor to get her hair done and her toenails painted for the occasion.

“This will do wonders for Snowflake’s self-esteem,” Mrs. Swanson said. “The poor dear has been so depressed since she stopped winning ribbons. The idea of starring in a movie is bound to rejuvenate her.”

Debbie didn’t have the heart to tell her that Snowflake’s role was a minor one. All she had to do was look glamorous.

Debbie had also enlisted Trixie, Foxy, Curly, Fifi, and Frisky from the Doggie Park, along with her own dog, Lola, and Tim’s dog, MacTavish.

The Bernsteins regretfully declined to let Bully participate, because Saturday was his birthday and they were having a party for him.

“I understand,” Debbie told them. “We’ll miss Bully terribly, but I hope he gets lots of presents.”

Secretly she was relieved that they wouldn’t have to worry about Aunt Alice straining her knees as she attempted to cram the massive bulldog through the door of the toolshed.

On Thursday, they filmed three scenes in which Debbie was grieving. In one she wore a scarf; in another, a baseball cap; and in the third, one of her mother’s hair extensions. She looked like a different person in each of the shots.

Bruce thought the performance was ridiculous, but Andi had written the scenes especially for Debbie and was insistent that they be included.

“Those scenes provide drama,” she said. “They’re very important.”

On Friday, they filmed Bobby gazing wistfully out through the chain-link fence, hoping for a glimpse of Juliet. Bruce got that scene in one take,
because Red was perfect. The talcum powder had turned him gray enough to satisfy even Andi, and when Bruce went out into the alley with his camera, Red, who had expected to be taken for a run, gazed through the fence with an expression of such longing that it would have broken the heart of anyone who’d seen it. Then Bruce went back into the yard and shot the scene in which Bobby opened the gate and ran into the alley. That, too, was done in one take. As soon as Bruce shouted, “Open, sesame!” Red rushed to the gate, took the latch in his mouth, and shoved the gate open.

“How did you teach him to do that?” Tim asked in amazement.

“It’s a step-by-step process,” Bruce explained. “First you teach your dog to go to the gate. Then you teach him the command ‘paws up.’ Then you smear chopped liver on the latch, and while he’s licking it off, you yell, ‘Open, sesame!’ and help him push the gate open. After a while he learns to put all those steps together and does the whole thing on his own whenever you tell him to.”

“Awesome!” Tim said. “I’m going to teach MacTavish to open the freezer and bring me a dish of ice cream. What’s next on our shooting agenda?”

“I could grieve again!” Debbie offered eagerly. “I haven’t grieved for Trixie yet.”

“We’ve got more than enough shots of you grieving,” Bruce said. “What we need now is some action. Let’s film the scene where Red pops up through the roof.”

A voice spoke suddenly from behind them.

“What are you guys doing?”

Jerry Gordon was standing in the alley, peering at them over the gate.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Bruce responded irritably. “I’m taking pictures of my dog.”

“The dog you bought with dirty money,” Jerry said. “The money you made from that newspaper with all those fake articles. I heard about how Mr. Murdock was threatening to sue you.”

“We didn’t print any fake articles,” Andi said defensively. “We just printed an article with a photo Mr. Murdock didn’t like. Bruce bought Red from your father fair and square with money we earned before Mr. Murdock got mad at us.”

“Red is your brother’s dog in name only,” Jerry told her. “I was Red’s first master and he’ll never
forget that. All I have to do is raise my hand and he’ll obey me. Watch this!”

With his eyes glued to Red’s, he lifted his hand and made a fist.

The big dog began to tremble, and before Bruce could do anything to calm him, he leapt to his feet and raced frantically to take shelter in his doghouse.

“Sure he remembers you!” Bruce said angrily. “He’s scared to death of you! Get out of here, Jerry. We’re busy, and you’re messing up our schedule.”

“You can’t tell me to get out of this alley,” Jerry said. “The alley is public property. Anybody can stand here.” Now that Red was no longer there for him to torment, he turned his attention to the toolshed facade. “What’s that big piece of plywood with a door in it? When I saw you dragging those boards down the alley to your place, I thought you were going to build a clubhouse. But that thing isn’t any clubhouse. What the heck is it?”

“That’s none of your business,” Andi told him. “Go away and let us get on with what we’re doing.”

“We can’t get on with it even if he leaves,” Bruce said in frustration, snapping the lens cap back onto
his camera. “He’s got Red spooked. He’s too scared to come out of his doghouse.”

“Then that’s it for today,” Tim said. “It’s no big deal, Bruce. We’d have to quit soon anyway, because the light’s starting to fade. We’ll film the roof-busting scene tomorrow after Red’s calmed down. Jerry, feel free to stand in the alley all night. It doesn’t matter to us.”

“That’s okay,” Jerry said. “I’ll come back in the morning. I wouldn’t miss the ‘roof-busting scene’ for anything. Maybe I’ll come on my skateboard. I know how much Red enjoys seeing me on that.”

He turned and casually strolled off with his hands in his pockets. Anyone watching would have thought that he had been paying them a friendly visit.

“He
will
be back tomorrow,” Andi said miserably after Jerry was out of earshot. “He’ll spook Red again and wreck the big scene with Mrs. Rinkle. Red will never perform if Jerry is standing there, giving him the evil eye.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Tim said. “Bruce and I will rearrange the set. We’ll rotate the facade so it’s facing the other direction and blocks Red’s view of the alley.”

“That might work for the dog-stuffing scene, but not for the roof-busting scene,” Bruce said. “Once you and the girls boost Red up so his head sticks over the facade, he’ll be able to see in all directions.”

“We’ll get up at dawn to shoot that scene,” Tim said. “Jerry won’t get here that early. By the time he does, the roof-busting scene will be a wrap, and on top of that, he’ll have your Aunt Alice to deal with.”