Cowboys

It was Zack who suggested to us to enroll in film. The high school was more well-to-do than other schools in the city and so could afford to have a film elective. Although Zack had encouraged us, the only thing anyone took note of was Alistair’s enrollment, who always had a flair for showmanship. Thus it was that on that early October morning when we all gathered awkwardly around the film classroom that several classmates asked Alistair if he would consider joining their group. They were incredulous that he had already decided that Zack and I would be in a group together. And he had it on good authority that the teacher would limit us to groups of three. We were given free rein to produce any kind of film we desired so long as it stuck to the theme of Wild West. I think Alistair talked to the teacher beforehand because when we broke off into groups he started pitching to us his idea. “We don’t exactly live in the Wild West around here…” Zack had a point, the lush forests were not hurting for rain so I did not know what kind of creativity we would need to employ to deceive the audience. Alistair waved his hand to dismiss our concerns before ruffling his golden locks. “Don’t worry, I know a place,” was what he told us. We spent the rest of the week making storyboards and familiarizing ourselves with the equipment. I headed out early on the day that we were filming, skipping breakfast to ensure I made it in time. Although I was famished by the time I arrived, Alistair had croissants ready for Zack and me when we arrived. “All part of being a good director,” he said. “So what are we waiting for? Let’s see this shooting location, man,” I said. “All in due time. We’re still waiting for actors—besides, it’s not far from here, just on the other side of the ravine.” We wait a good fifteen minutes for our actors to show up-they’re always quite flakey-and then we head off to the spot. Zack said he wanted to do the filming first so we burdened him with the camera gear. After an interval we arrived at the location Alistair bragged about and he was quite right to do so. It indeed was perfect for shooting a Western. The filming commenced with gathering establishing shots of the area while the actors got into costumes we rummaged from local thrift stores and childhood Hallowe’en costumes. Soon the mid-October sun began to set and we began to pack up and head home. We repeated this exercise a few times more until we were satisfied that we had enough main shots and B-roll material. Zack’s enthusiasm for filming dwindled like a dying flame over the weeks and I began to doubt he would continue with film into the next term. “I say, I’d rather watch paint dry than edit any more,” exclaimed Zack. “Don’t worry, man, we’re almost finished with the first cut.” “First? Out of how many?” “Probably as many as it takes to get it right,” I ponder aloud. “What? Come on, Alistair, I gotta go to practice soon, I can’t spend all afternoon editing.” Alistair assuaged Zack and me stating that we would conclude today’s editing now and reconvene tomorrow at lunch to put the final touches on the film. True to his word, we finished the film that lunch break; though, I think I had done most of the editing by the end. On conclusion of the film, and after submitting to our teacher, we held a small showing in the film classroom for some friends to watch our film. As the showing concluded, the audience congratulated Zack and Alistair for a job well done. I began to zone out the noise, while one or two voices mentioned me by name, and stared at the TV screen like I was trying to see a world far beyond where I sat. The beating of my heart brought me back to the room, but lying within my heart was my own sin for I had always despised those two a little.