Page 36 of Child of Mine

Relieved, I lead a chattering group of girls to the first meeting of the week. But when I catch a glimpse of the cameras setting up, my own belly tightens in panic. My frontal lobe has known for a week that a crew would be filming our every move here, but I guess we forgot to clue in my limbic system. I’m going to need to take my own advice if I’m going to make it through a week of having those lenses aimed my direction.

For better or for worse, the first thing I notice after getting my stomach settled is that Carol and Henry are having a heated discussion. Before I can come up with a distraction so neither the girls nor the cameras will notice, Carol waves me over.

A serene expression on her face, Carol hands me a hat with pieces of paper in it. “The plan is to draw names to create the teams for the obstacle course competition. Henry here?”—her smile tightens slightly as she gestures to him, but her voice is calm—“would like to have a hand in choosing who works with whom, but I disagree. Sometimes you have to trust that letting things happen organically will create real events that are more compelling than a manipulation of the truth. I’m willing to sacrifice ‘wow’ moments in order to get that. In any case, it’s time to get this show on the road.”

“You’re the boss, Carol,” Henry says, his tone making it clear that he’s not happy about it.

“All right, then. Bella will do the drawings after I introduce your crew. They do understand that they have free rein to film, but no engagement? They’re just flies on the wall.” She gestures at the campground. “Or in the forest, I should say.”

“I could supervise them during the obstacle course, just to get everything off on the right foot,” Henry suggests.

Carol shakes her head. “If you’re not participating, we won’t have even numbers.” After patting him on the shoulder, Carol—a hippie at heart—calls for everyone to gather in a circle. “Find a spot where you’re standing next to at least one person you don’t know,” she says. “Or don’t know well, at least.”

There’s some giggling as we jockey for positions. Henry even cracks a smile. Then Carol introduces the camera crew, including one guy who has already climbed a tower on the challenge course to get a bird’s-eye view, explaining that we are all to ignore them as much as possible and that part of the purpose of this week will be to get used to having a camera observing us—not to interact with, but to witness whatever’s going on. “That way, when we get back to the studio, we’ll be comfortable expressing ourselves. Not everything they shoot this week will be used, if any of it,” she adds. “If something embarrassing happens, we obviously won’t use that. Try to keep your focus on getting to know each other.”

“And on having fun!” Keeley shouts.

“Exactly,” Carol nods.

We kick things off with a couple of get-to-know-you games that I remember from my time on the show, and then I grab the hat that has all of our names in it: the kids, the producing team, the musical director, the choreographer, the props and costume people—basically anyone and everyone who will interact with the kids on the show. As Carol explains that the hat will divide us into groups of four, the grimace on Henry’s face has me stifling a laugh, even as my heart skips in anticipation. I do get why he’d prefer to choose the names, but this process has an excitement of its own. Unlike waiting to be chosen for a team in gym class—a feeling I didn’t miss one bit when I left school to go to work—when Fate does the choosing, it feels fairer. And more fun.

When I pull my own name from the hat, I read it aloud and then jog to join a group that already includes Tara and Jared, another cast member. We high-five before I pick the final name to make up our team: Henry.

This should be interesting,Quinn and Izzy chorus.

Refocusing, I finish pulling names. The resulting team makeups may prove Carol right because I don’t see a clear winner, though I doubt we four have much of a chance. My only regular exercise is hauling boxes of books in and out of storage, so I certainly won’t be scaling walls and diving under nets with ease. I noticed on the bus ride that Jared’s a beautiful singer, but I overheard him telling someone that he hates sports. Then there’s tiny Tara, still shooting scared eyes at Henry, who is likely our only hope. He’s got the makings of a serious athlete: muscular, quick on his feet, and intense.

A memory flashes—Hal sweeping me off my feet and tossing me onto the couch in my old dressing room—and I have to use the hat in my hand as a fan.

When Henry gives me a “You okay?” look, I just nod and smile.

I think we can win!Izzy says, ever the optimist.

I hope we win him,Quinn replies.

* * *

HENRY

I can’t help it. I’m competitive, always have been. So even though I know my focus should be on the kids—making sure they’re warming up to each other and the cameras, making sure moments are captured that I can cut into a fun, fast-paced commercial and opening sequence—all I can think about is winning.

We’re so close, I can taste it. I doubt that anyone on my team managed to get a Presidential Medal of Fitness, but what they lack in muscle, they make up for in enthusiasm.

Surprisingly, Bella’s the loudest of all, cheering on the rest of us. She was also the one who saved us at the cargo nets. When Jared got stuck, she insisted that I was too heavy to climb back and untangle him, so she did it—quickly enough that we came in second instead of last.

My team is tired, but everyone is. TV people are apparently not big on keeping in shape, and some of them are hampered by clothing not made for running and climbing. James’s short-sleeved button-down is soaked in sweat, and the costumer is wearing a dress. We won’t be able to use footage of her, of course, but a shot of her teammates’ laughter as she gamely struggled to hop through the tires could be gold.

Bella gathers us into a huddle before the whistle blows for the final leg, which every one of us has to complete, to finalize our strategy. Each player’s time will count, so if one or two of us can get through fast enough, we could win it, even if the others are back with the rest of the pack.

Tara’s small but fast, and I’m big and fast, so Bella suggests that she and Jared try to delay everyone else by getting in the way.

“Pretty sneaky,” I say.

“I like it.” Tara reaches up to punch me in the arm. “Totally worth the risk.”

Earlier, the little girl wouldn’t even look me in the eye, so I’m counting that gesture as a win, no matter how we end up doing.

When the whistle blows, we jog over to get into position, chanting “Team Dabba Dabba Doo!” Naturally, Carol made us all come up with goofy team names, but I have to admit it was a good call since that was the first thing that got Jared talking.

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