Tribesmen by Adam Cesare Read Free Book Online Page B

with us last night,” Tito said. “Probably passed out by the fire.”
    “Then where is he now?” Jacque asked.
    Alright, Perry Mason, enough with the questions. I want to shoot, Denny thought. He felt a single bead of sweat glide over the hair above his ass cheeks. It was early and the sun was on the move. If he didn’t shoot now, he would miss the soft light of dawn.
    “Probably taking a shit. What do I know? He ate the tuna on the plane, big mistake,” Tito said. “Just get out of Denny’s way.”
    “Finally!” Denny got into position behind the set-up, unlocked the x-axis on the tripod, tightened up the tilt and gripped the pan handle. He then pressed his eye tight to the viewfinder, blocking out any light that could seep in and prematurely expose the film.
    “Whatever happens today, don’t you dare cut the camera, child,” a familiar voice said into his ear.
    “What was that?” Denny turned to look at Tito.
    “I say nothing.”
    He shrugged and inhaled deep, holding his breath as he started rolling. There was the familiar mechanical whir and in a few moments of flawless movement it was over.
    It was a beautiful, smooth pan. Ten seconds of the movie was now shot, twenty when Tito used the footage twice.

Chapter 10
    Cynthia
    Cynthia watched Jacque carefully as he spoke to Tito. There was an uneasiness in both men, as if they were both braced for a fight. It wasn’t openly hostile, and it wasn’t devoid of familiarity, but there was violence to it nonetheless. “Okay writer. We got three people, two women and a man and no natives. Which scene should we start with?” Tito asked.
    “Right now we don’t even have Umberto. We’ve only got Cynthia. I don’t have any scenes with just her in an empty village…or just her alone in the jungle for that matter. We need at least Umberto.”
    “Sweetheart,” Tito said, snapping his fingers at the makeup girl, Daria. He said something to her in Italian. She nodded and smiled before saying: “No English.”
    “No English,” Tito mimicked back and smiled. “She won’t need English. There we go, we’ve got two actresses. I bet this little peach will take her top off, too.” Tito indicated the makeup girl who was still smiling, no idea what he was saying. “Add them to our newest leading man,” the old man drilled a finger into Jacque’s chest, “and you’ve got a movie.”
    “No,” Jacque said. No humor or familiarity, just flat refusal.
    “Yes. Look around. You see any cannibals? You see anyone who can even pass for a cannibal?” Tito asked. His impish smile looked to Cynthia like his body smelled: ripe with decay. Every time you thought he couldn’t get any slimier, he said something even more odious. The man was a pig and a bigot.
    The thought of a pig made Cynthia’s eyes wander to the wrecked hut and the dead boar, but the body was gone.
    “I direct,” Tito continued, raising his voice and snapping her attention away from the missing swine. “Denny works the camera. What is it that you do, Jacque? It looks to me like you eat pretty girls for dinner.”
    Cynthia noticed Tito wasn’t dropping articles of speech anymore. The demented little old man’s English was as strong as he wanted it to be in any given situation. Jacque was right: the man was a huckster, but a good one.
    “You can’t make me do anything,” Jacque said.
    “You’re right,” Tito said, patting his suit jacket pocket. Did he just touch his gun on purpose?
    “Are you threatening me?” Jacque didn’t miss the implication either.
    “Only with the fact that if you don’t help, there will be no movie,” Tito dipped into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “And no paycheck. Actors get paid more. You do know that, right? And of course, you’d still be receiving your writing credit.”
    “Because I’m working with you for the valuable screen credit,” Jacque said under his breath. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
    Tito spoke something in Italian to Daria, who