Act One: and other stories

Act One

And other stories

Kim Fielding

Act One copyright © 2012 by Kim Fielding

Tyler Wang Has a Ball copyright © 2012 by Kim Fielding

Care and Rehabilitation copyright © 2012 by Kim Fielding

Judy’s Plan copyright © 2017 by Kim Fielding

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

www.kfieldingwrites.com

Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

Created with Vellum Created with Vellum

Contents

Act One

Tyler Wang Has a Ball

Care and Rehabilitation

Judy’s Plan

About the Author

Act One

The Santa Ana had blown through and then exited stage left, leaving the sky a smogless Technicolor blue. The bright sun didn’t match Garret’s mood as he trudged down the dirty sidewalk. It wasn’t so much that he hated his job—because although selling shoes to tourists might provide only a modest paycheck, it was a rich source of material—but his life just wasn’t following the script.

Once upon a time, when he was an idealistic kid in a backwater Illinois town, he’d had it all planned out. He would move to Hollywood and, after a few years of hard work and gumption, impress the studio heads with his imagination and wit. Sure, they would be a little hesitant at first, but soon they’d be clamoring for his scripts, and the A-list actors would be calling their agents, demanding a part in the next Garret Souders film. One of those actors would be so overcome with Garret’s skills that he would bravely out himself at a premiere, announcing to the world that he was proud to have Garret Souders as his boyfriend.

Garret, now thirty-one, adjusted the messenger bag on his shoulder and scowled at a tour bus as it lumbered by. The only ones clamoring for him were ladies from Little Rock or Kyoto or Melbourne, wanting to know whether he could find them this style in a size seven. And the last guy who had considered him a boyfriend was Tom, who had worked at the cookie shop next door to Garret’s shoe store until moving back to Redmond a year and a half ago. Garret’s life had clearly gone off script, and he’d been relegated to only a supporting role.

He turned onto Hollywood Boulevard, skirted a clot of tourists who were busily snapping pictures of the names in the sidewalk, and headed toward the open-air shopping mall. It was mid-afternoon and the crowds were thick. Adults and children posed for pictures with Marilyn Monroe and Betty Boop, with Darth Vader and Spider-Man, with Spongebob, Dora, and Batman. Garret’s favorite costumed character looked a little forlorn, standing by the curb all by himself, his emerald-colored cape hanging dejectedly. He perked up a bit when Garret waved at him. He flashed a whitened and orthodontically correct smile and waved a gloved hand back. I’m seeing a lot of Shoe Starz bags in people’s hands today, Nourish-Man yelled.

Buy one get one half price sale this week. Need a couple of new pairs?

Nourish-Man lifted one foot, attired in a bright green knee-high boot with fringe down the back. Only if you carry these.

Garret laughed. Sorry. We’re fresh out. With another wave, he turned and entered the mall. He squeezed around a group of Russians who were, inexplicably, taking photos of the escalators. As he rose slowly to the second floor, he wondered where Nourish-Man got his boots—and the rest of his costume, for that matter. Was there a superhero supply store somewhere in LA? Or did the guy spend his evenings at home, sewing together brightly colored Spandex?

The store was packed. Can you clock in now? Please? asked Brittani as soon as she caught sight of Garret. Her dyed-blonde hair was escaping its ponytail.

I’ll end up with overtime if I do, Garret warned her.

Fine. Just… help!

He knew it was mean, but he couldn’t help a little smile at his manager’s distress. She was several years younger than he was, and seemed to resent the fact that he had a B.A. while she was still taking business classes at the community college. She enjoyed bossing him around, making him rearrange shelves that didn’t need it, or forcing him to climb the rickety ladder to hang signs.

There was none of that this afternoon, at least. As soon as Garret emerged from the back room, still pinning his name tag in place, he was besieged by customers. He didn’t mind, not even when they were cranky. At least the time went by faster when he was busy.

He ended up with only a fifteen-minute break instead of the half hour he was due. That would give him barely enough time to wolf a sandwich and gulp a Coke, but a desperate Brittani promised him an extra hour on his time card in exchange. She even gave him