“The scene is ‘Fill me a bucket with water,’” Sofia replied.
“That’s it?” Courtney laughed to some of the crowd. The crowd sniggered back. Sofia could not tell how many of the crew were on her side, and how many would be for Courtney. She had heard that Courtney had been rude with many of them, issuing demands for coconut water and imported gummy bears like a sugar-addicted tinpot dictator, but perhaps they still loved her out of fear, or because she was the young, pretty one.
Sofia swallowed and hoped she was doing the right thing. She didn’t know if she had the requisite nerve left to pull this off. “There is a tap over there,” Sofia said. She pointed to the opposite side of the sound stage.
“I don’t see it,” said Courtney. She squinted. The crowd all looked over as well. “There’s no tap there,” she said.
“It’s called acting,” Sofia said.
“Oh, ha. I get it. The tap is imaginary. I’ll bet the bucket is too, right?” said Courtney.
“You are a smart one,” Sofia said. “Here is your challenge. Walk to the tap, fill your bucket with water, then carry the bucket back here and place it at my feet.”
“That’s it? No dialogue?”
“No dialogue. Just fill and carry a bucket.”
Courtney rolled her eyes. “Fine with me.” She shook her arms and lunged, then stretched her neck, touching her head to each shoulder. “Just warming up,” she said, to giggles from the crew. She exhaled a long, exaggerated breath, then she skipped over to the “tap” and turned it on, waited for her “bucket” to fill, then skipped with it back to Sofia. She swung the imaginary bucket back and forth and whistled the theme tune to Batman as she went. She swished her shoulders and sashayed across the floor. She popped her hips and winked to a camera assistant, who blushed and fondled a light meter. The performance oozed with cuteness; the crew chuckled and wolf-whistled. Finally, she flung the imaginary bucket at Sofia’s feet and saluted like a gymnast who had finished a difficult routine. The crew laughed and applauded. “Your turn,” said Courtney. “I bet you can’t do it whistling.”
“You have me there,” Sofia said. “I don’t know how to whistle. One of the great tragedies of my life. Nevertheless, I shall endeavor to match the rest. First, may I inquire about your bucket?”
“My bucket?” Courtney repeated.
“Yes. The bucket you carried the water in, just now. What kind was it?”
Courtney scoffed. “It was just a bucket, I don’t know.”
“Was it a plastic bucket? Or steel?”
Courtney shrugged, looking bored. “What the hell? Plastic.”
“Wonderful. How much water does it hold?”
“How should I know? It’s a make-believe bucket! Who cares?”
“Make-believe is your livelihood, dear. I care.” The crowd shifted and went quiet.
Courtney glared at her. “I don’t know, six gallons,” she said.
“Six gallons. My goodness! I’m afraid I cannot confess as much expertise with imperial measurements as you. Another paradox of British units of measure, you see—while we’re all inches and feet for distance, we’re mils and liters for volume. No matter. I guess six gallons is about twenty liters.”
“Twenty-two,” Derek called from the crowd, smartphone in hand.
Sofia beamed. “Twenty-two! Thank you, Derek. Now, here’s one equation I do know: that wonderful metric system which says one liter of water equals one kilogram of weight. Love the neatness, don’t you?” Courtney nodded and made no remark. “How rude of me. I know what a kilogram is, but you don’t, of course. Let’s see if I can find an equivalent for you. Derek, you have a nephew, do you not? The lovely young man who visited set yesterday.”
“I do,” said Derek, with a delighted look on his face. “John.”
“How much does John weigh?”
“Three and a half stone, I’d guess. About twenty kilograms.”
“And how old is your nephew?”
“Ten.”
A gasp rippled through the crowd. Courtney turned to the sound and swallowed. She focused again on Sofia, a worried look now gracing her face. “Ten years old,” Sofia repeated. “I’m thinking the bucket you carried to hold that much water, Courtney, big enough to fit a ten-year-old inside, might be one of those white buckets with the thin steel handle, the ones fishermen put the fish guts in?”
Courtney blinked. “Fine.”
“Good, then.” Sofia stood. “May I borrow your bucket?” She pointed to the ground by Courtney’s feet where there was nothing but air.
The younger actress rolled her eyes. “Be my guest.”
Sofia picked up the imaginary bucket and walked over to the imaginary tap. She turned the tap to the left. “Righty tighty, lefty loosey,” she sang. Courtney, who had turned her hand to the right, swallowed. Sofia waited at the tap for a full minute while the imaginary bucket filled. Courtney sneered and tapped her foot. “Right to the top, you filled it?” she checked with Courtney. The girl glared.
Sofia turned off the imaginary tap and bent her knees with great ceremony. She picked up the imaginary bucket with two hands, wincing at the imaginary weight. She passed the bucket over to her right hand then waddled to the other side of the room, dipping her hips with each step to catch the bounce of the imaginary bucket onto her thigh. She reached halfway across the room and swapped to her left hand, stretching out her right hand in relief. She dropped the imaginary bucket at Courtney’s feet with a thud and wiped her brow.
Mutters and chortles rose from the assembled crowd. “Clever,” said Courtney. “Too theatrical for most people’s taste, though.”
“I see I have not won you over yet,” Sofia said with a nod. “I wonder. I think I saw one of those white buckets by catering. You, sir, could you investigate?” She pointed to the runner, who scurried off. Courtney sneered at Sofia, but Sofia just smiled back.
The runner returned. “Splendid!” Sofia patted him on the back and turned to Courtney. “You as the star of
