Page 10 of No More Bad Boys
Once her camera is secured on the tripod and connected to the cable, Luce goes back to the truck to begin editing the package with Blake. I take a few moments to explore my surroundings and gauge the challenges we’ll face shooting in here.
Grumbling to myself, I remember Blake’s naughty-little-boy expression as he’d informed me of his intention to shoot underwater.
And the delighted gleam in his eye as I warned him how difficult this was going to be. I think it actually made himmoredetermined to pull it off.
He has to do it the hard way, doesn’t he? Go for the big impact.
If I’m Spock, then he’s Captain Kirk, with all his swagger and charm.
And recklessness.
I stroll the length of the room. I’ve been here before, years ago on a school field trip. It’s quiet and dim, the low lighting provided by small canister lights in the ceiling high overhead.
Some illumination also comes from the tank itself, which forms one whole wall of the room, at least two stories high and sixty feet wide.
Directly opposite from the glass wall, stadium style risers provide seating for those who might want to sit and watch the assortment of marine life for a while.
At the moment it’s empty and almost eerily quiet, since the exhibits closed at five p.m. I check my phone—5:30.
Not much time to get everything ready. I need to have the shot up and looking perfect by 6:05, ten minutes prior to our 6:15 time slot, just before the weather segment.
If I don’t, the director will tell Leslie she has to float the shot, and she’ll tellmeto go to Hell probably.
Withouta paycheck. I can’t start my part of the process until my counterparts are finished editing, so I study the room, imagining how the shot will go.
There’s a staircase just to the left of the enormous tank, leading to an overhead observation area that allows aquarium visitors to view the fish from the top and the sides.
If Blake begins his live shot underwater, Luce will have to start shooting down here on the floor then climb the stairs during the segment and follow him as he makes his way to the top of the tank.
By the time he breaks the surface, she’ll need to be at least even with him or above him in the observation area. I hope she’s as good as I think she is.
And has excellent balance.
I take a seat on the carpeted steps and watch the tank’s inhabitants drift by, oblivious to the problems of a news station intern and the fact that their peaceful home is about to be invaded by lights, camera,idiot.
A school of small yellow fish suddenly speeds up and darts away toward the center of the tank.
Then I see why. A large brown shark, about ten feet in length, swims close to the window. I shiver at the sight of its two back fins and tiny, soulless eyes.
Great. My first live shot and my reporter’sliterallygoing to get eaten alive.
FOUR
Bait
I speed walk out to the truck and climb into the front seat, turning around to face Luce and Blake, who are huddled close in the back.
They’re both watching the monitors as she edits at lightning speed and he weighs in on sound bites and video choices.
“You might want to re-think this, cowboy. Did you know there are sharks in that tank?”
Blake lifts his head and laughs. “Only nurse sharks. Theyrarelybite humans.”
“Oh, only rarely. That’s good. Are you trying to get me kicked out of my internship your first week of work?”
“Are you kidding? The news director will love it—a shark attack will make for a way more exciting B-block, right?”
Reading my scowl, Blake adds, “Relax. I’ll have a dive escort with me, and the tour guide said nurse sharks are pretty laid-back.”
