“Hold your head up straight,” she instructed her daughter. “The cameraman can’t see your face.” Then: “Why are you wearing that ridiculous dress? Couldn’t the studio have found something better?” Then: “You look like a stupid starstruck child, gazing into his face like that.”
As Harriet spoke, Nora grew more upset, which resulted in her missing her cues and stumbling over her marks and forcing Tyler to do more takes. Watching this, I felt embarrassed and powerless. The men in the film crew were bothered too. The cameraman, with his hand still cranking the camera, gave Harriet dirty looks; the prop man stepped right in front of her holding a reflector in order to cut off her view. John Vail, his face covered with paint and head crowned with feathers, lit a cigarette and mumbled under his breath, “Wicked old dried-up bitch.” Tyler himself, typically, attempted to ignore Harriet, until finally one of her jabs made Nora burst into tears.
“Mrs. Cole,” he said gently. “Please, you’re upsetting your daughter, and it’s making it difficult for her to concentrate on the scene.”
“My daughter’s moods are none of your concern!” insisted Mrs. Cole. “You are simply her director, and don’t ever forget it. Stop acting like she’s your wife!”
“Mother!” pleaded Nora.
“You shut up, you little slut. Let me finish.”
But Nora didn’t let her. Before Harriet had the chance to say anything else, Nora turned and ran into the woods. We were all so shocked that none of us reacted at first; then, finally, Tyler called out after her. He and Vail hurried off in the direction she’d gone, with Harriet close behind. They returned a few minutes later, without Nora.
“I’m sure she’ll be back in a moment,” said Harriet. “She’s very prone to dramatic scenes lately.”
“Well, if you’d just ease off of her—” began Tyler.
“I can say what I want! She’s my daughter!”
“She’s not a child! No matter what you choose to believe. She’s a woman, and she’s tired of you treating her like property!”
“And since when do you have such intimate knowledge of my daughter’s feelings?”
“It’s obvious. It’s obvious to everyone! You’re doing her much more harm than good!”
They broke off as quickly as they’d started.
“At any rate,” said Tyler, lighting a cigarette, “I’m sure you’re right, and she’ll be back shortly.”
But when she wasn’t back shortly; when thirty minutes had passed and there was still no sign of her, Tyler suggested that the men split up and search for her, and that one stay behind with Mrs. Cole. There were mountain lions in the forest, and bears as well, none of which would bother us when we were shooting in a group but were more likely to attack if someone was alone. We knew that Nora couldn’t defend herself against a wild animal. And it was easy to get lost in the wilderness.
I entered the woods heading north, walking along a small stream. For the first ten minutes I could hear the other men’s calls and echoes—“Nora! Nora! Nora!” Then all human sound was lost, and I heard only the sounds of nature—the rustle of trees, birds chirping, the music of the stream. I made my way through thick underbrush, pushing back branches that were moist with frost. The air was pure and crisp and smelled of pine. Every few minutes I would see a patch of disturbed earth and wonder if it was the sign of a human or of some wild forest creature. Several times I heard strange noises and knew that something was watching; it was as if I were back home in Nagano again, making my way through untouched woods.
I must have walked uphill for thirty minutes or more, calling Nora’s name, and then I reached a point where the air was even more chilly and the ground was spotted with snow. It was early November, and perhaps forty degrees at that elevation; I was sure that Nora wouldn’t have walked so far in the cold without even a shawl. But just as I was about to turn around, I heard a girl’s voice. It sounded like she was talking or singing to herself, and when I stood still to listen, I knew I hadn’t imagined it. “Nora!” I called out, and the voice stopped for a moment and then resumed singing again. I pushed through some thick bushes that grew up to the banks of the stream and found myself in a small clearing, with Nora not ten feet away from me. She was sitting on a large, flat rock which abutted the trickling stream. When she saw me her face lit up, as if she’d been awaiting my arrival for hours and had wondered what was causing the delay.
“Jun!” she called out. “Isn’t it beautiful here?”
I stepped closer to the edge of the rock. “Everyone is worried about you, Miss Niles. You’re very far from the set.”
“Oh, who cares about the set! I want to be here! Here, away from everyone and everything!”
I didn’t speak, and she turned to face me. “I don’t mind you being here, Jun. I like to be with you. Why don’t you come over and sit with me?”
I hesitated. The rock was the size of a dining room table, but finally I sat on the very edge and looked out over the
