Ronald walked out of the administrative office and saw Gale, whose eyes were red but no longer teary. She was talking with Jim.
"Hey, Ronald," Gale said, managing a smile. "Do you know martial arts? You took down those two Zuckers so easily."
"I was on the wrestling team in high school," Ronald shrugged.
"Oh." Gale mimicked Ronald's hip-toss motion. "So, are you still taking pictures of me today?"
"Wait for me a moment. I'll get my camera. Then I'll treat you both to dinner."
"Dinner?" Gale raised an eyebrow. "Is there something worth celebrating?"
"Yes," Ronald grinned. "Mr. Corman just put me in charge of the remaining Second Unit work."
Ronald returned with his Nikon.
"Give me an emotion, Gale," Ronald directed, looking through the viewfinder. "Think of anything. Something happy."
Gale posed, but her smile was stiff.
"No, no. That's a 'camera smile.' Shake it off. Think of something else."
Gale paused, looking at Jim, then back at the lens, she laughed naturally.
"That's the one! Hold it!"
Ronald snapped the shutter, capturing the genuine joy.
Jim walked up behind Gale and handed her a fresh coffee.
"I'll take a photo with Gale," Jim said, leaning in.
"Watch the coffee!" Gale laughed. "Don't smudge my lipstick."
Ronald clicked the shutter a few more times. They looked great together... young, ambitious, and full of life.
"Okay, group shot," Ronald said.
He placed the camera on a filing cabinet and cranked the self-timer lever.
He ran into the frame, throwing his arms around Jim and Gale.
Whirrrrrr... Click.....
They piled into Ronald's Volkswagen and headed for a diner near the studio.
It was a quiet Sunday evening.
The restaurant reminded Ronald of the place where Aunt Karen worked on Staten Island: bright windows, red vinyl booths, and the smell of brewing coffee.
They ordered pasta, meatballs, and pizza.
After the food arrived, the conversation turned back to the meeting.
"So," Jim asked, twirling spaghetti on his fork. "Roger put you in charge of Second Unit. But he told you to get the cinematographer's contact from me?"
"Right," Ronald explained. "He's not using the original Second Unit DP. He wants me to hire the crew. We're finishing the work, but technically, we are not continuing Jerry Zucker's schedule. We are a 'new' unit."
"A workaround," Jim nodded. "Smart."
"So you're officially a Second Unit Director," Gale said. "That means..." She stopped, looking at Jim.
"It's okay," Ronald said. "Jim and I are friends."
"Are you Union?" Jim asked bluntly.
Ronald shook his head. "Not yet."
"I've been one for a long time," Jim said. He pulled out his wallet and slapped a card on the table.
Ronald picked it up....International Brotherhood of Teamsters.
"Wrong one," Jim laughed. "That was from my truck driving days."
He dug deeper and pulled out a stiff paper card. In the upper left corner was the logo of a soaring eagle.
DIRECTORS GUILD OF AMERICA
1978-1979
Below the logo, James Cameron was typed in block letters.
It was just a piece of paper, but in Hollywood, it was the Holy Grail.
"Did you get this with the short film?" Ronald asked, handing it back reverently.
"Yeah. Xenogenesis was funded by dentists for tax write-offs. To get the tax credit, the production had to be registered with the guilds. Once the DGA saw the registration, they sent me the packet."
Gale took the card, studying it.
"You need three sponsors," Jim explained. "Three current DGA members to sign for you. Then you notarize it, mail it back, and wait. Once approved, you write a check for the initiation fee."
"Is it expensive?"
"Not cheap. For the 'low budget/commercial/short film' tier, it's $750. Plus $60 annual dues."
"But the benefits are worth it," Jim added. "Health insurance is included. No premiums."
Ronald felt a pang of envy, he didn't even have dental.
Jim tucked the card away. "So, have you decided on college?"
"I've applied to the SUNYs in New York," Ronald said. "But I want to add some film programs. Julie Corman said she and Roger would write me recommendation letters for USC and NYU."
"That's huge," Gale said. "Roger's name opens doors. Stanford would take a look at you with that letter."
"But the tuition..." Ronald sighed. "And I heard you have to pay for your own student films."
"Don't put too much faith in film school," Jim scoffed. "You go there to read books you can read at the library. The professors haven't made a movie in twenty years. Why pay them to teach you theory when you can get paid to learn reality at New World?"
"I disagree," Gale said firmly. "Look at the new generation. Lucas, Coppola, Scorsese. They all have degrees and it gives you a foundation."
"Spielberg dropped out," Jim countered with a grin.
Gale swatted his arm. "Exceptions don't make the rule, Cameron."
"Gale," Ronald interrupted before they could argue. "Can I use the company copier? I want to prep my application materials tonight. I start shooting tomorrow, and I'll forget."
"Of course. Prepare the envelopes. I'll make sure Roger signs the letters tomorrow." Gale checked her watch. "Today is the 17th. Christmas is coming. Don't use regular mail. Use that new company, Federal Express. They guarantee delivery in two days."
"I'll do that. I'll give you the cash for the postage."
Ronald turned to Jim. "Jim, do you want to help me on Second Unit? Or would you rather stay on the main set with Allen?"
"I'll help you," Jim said immediately. "Allen's shooting interiors. I saw the script, there's an outdoor motorcycle chase. That's Second Unit, right?"
"It is. And I want you to shoot it." Ronald knew Jim was a gearhead.
"Done."
"We also need some establishing shots. And I need a set designer to build a fake sign for the high school."
"I can do it," Jim said. "I build models. A sign is easy."
"Great. There's also a phone booth scene, a sunrise shot on the hill, and the concert entrance. Let's go back to the office and break down the board."
Ronald drained his espresso and left a generous tip.
Back at the office, Ronald found the addresses for four university film programs. Gale helped him prep the FedEx envelopes.
"Roger takes recommendations seriously," Gale said. "He always dictates them himself."
"By the way," Ronald asked Jim. "Is your short film here? Do we have time to watch it?"
"Ah," Jim patted his pockets. "I left the tape at home. Next time, Ronnie. Next time."
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