Page 33 of The Summer Show
“I wonder who decides which country gets to be the nationally confusing one?”
He grabbed one of the hotel pens and their fancy paper and began to translate the whole contract for me. There wasn’t much. Just a couple of pages. Skimpy for a contract if you ask me, but this was Greece where things were different. From over his shoulder I could see that it was unsurprising, mostly contestants having to keep their mouths closed about who was out during which week and who the winners were. There was one segment about how we couldn’t sue the show if we were hurt during filming.
“Is that even legal?”
“If you agree to it, then yes. If it makes you feel any better, medical care is free or close to it.”
I blinked at him. “Are you serious?”
“You’re not in America anymore.” He stood and offered me the office chair. It was one of those fancy seats I drooled over but could never justify purchasing for myself. “Are you really going to do this? The show, I mean.”
“Did you see what kind of money they’re offering?”
“Money was the first thing on my mind. The second was finding someplace to sleep.”
Guilt shook me by the shoulders. If not for me, Nick could be sleeping at his sister’s house. Without air conditioning. Or a lazy river swimming pool. Or room service. Okay, yeah, this wasn’t a shabby compromise.
“Well, the money is lot to someone like me.”
He frowned. “Like you?”
“I want to buy books for the kids who don’t get any money to spend at the book fair. And I’ll save some, too, of course. Provided I last longer than one episode. But I could really do some good with the money.”
“There are other ways to make money.”
“That kind of money? I’d have to do something like OnlyFans, and that’s not really my style. It’s for women with far more something than me.”
“Something?”
I gestured at my everything in one sweeping motion.
Nick shook his head at me. “So sign the contract. Take the money and help kids.” He offered me the pen. “But when I beat you, don’t complain.”
Was signing the right move? This was unscripted TV, for crying out loud. That meant there would be lights, makeup, cameras, and whatever happened it would be cut into bite sized pieces with all the nuance shaved off to enhance the drama. Then, eventually, it would air on television, and audiences all over Europe and maybe even the world would see me, Bush Lake Elementary School’s librarian, fall on my face.
Did I want the world to see me face-plant?
No.
But I wanted that money. Money was a tool I needed in my librarian kit. It wasn’t greed, it was flexibility. I could, and would, willingly embarrass myself on the international stage for Bush Lake’s students.
I crunched down on the inside of my cheek and seized the pen.
“I guess we’re going to be on TV.”
twelve
The Greece’s Top Hoplite crew moved swiftly. Within the space of a few days they pieced together a whole set, located away from the main village, but close enough to send the interns to the markets on foot if the crew got a hankering for souvlaki. Nera’s ancient amphitheater was to be the show’s arena for ten nights, plus how ever many evenings it took to do reshoots, if need be.
Kyria Dora, casting director, took over as the caterer once she had finished recruiting cast members. Her role of caterer meant she got to delegate using someone else’s money. Which suited her right down to the ground. From what I could tell, Kyria Dora loved two things: gossip and bossing people around.
The elderly Greek woman had scrounged up twenty contestants in total. Half of us would be banished to the audience after the first episode, and from there on we would be eliminated one per episode until one of us was crowned Greece’s Top Hoplite. The contestant demographic was people. A mishmash of young folks and older, which worried me a bit because I didn’t want to have to hit anyone, especially an elderly person. That was right up there with tripping kids and kicking puppies. I tried to do no harm in the world, and hitting old people was the opposite of that.
“Old Greek people are not like other people,” Ana’s mom reassured me over lunch. “You have to take them out before they take you out—because they will break you if they can.”
“Says the woman who dresses like a widow and pretends she’s got a hunchback when she travels,” Ana said, stifling a smile.
“Greece is a jungle,” Lina said, “and I am just dressing like a lion.”