From The Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

the
scene.
    “Pretty good,” Mark Shea said as he wrote a few notes
on Jesse’s evaluation sheet. “We’ll be just a few moments.”
    Aware that the audition had gone well, Jesse
suppressed a smile, attempted to remain calm. He kept his arms
uncrossed to avoid negative body language. As Jesse stood there, he
reminded himself not to bounce on the backs of his heels, a nervous
habit Jada had pointed out. At the rear of the room, the doorway
threshold reflected a glare from the overhead light, which Jesse
used as a focal point while he waited. Maybe it would keep him from
looking desperate by staring at his evaluators—or worse, from
revealing a lack of confidence by focusing on his toes with his
head tilted down.
    To stand in front of a group of people as they
whisper about you—Jesse found this to be the most peculiar aspect
of an audition. In what other circumstance would you seek to be
discussed and gauged in secret? But by Jesse’s own admission, at
his first audition years ago, such lull time had proven quite
awkward, akin to standing before a group of strangers in his boxer
shorts. What do you do with your hands while you stand alone,
scrutinized like a specimen under a microscope?
    But he adored this line of work—when the line moved.
Jesse fell in love with drama as a teenager, but that passion
didn’t emerge right away. His height and physical aptitude led to
membership on his high-school basketball team. Invigorated by the
energy exertion and swift competition of the sport, Jesse proved a
decent player. But the rush from the games couldn’t compare to the
personal revelation that surfaced when he discovered theater. On a
whim, he auditioned for a fall play his sophomore year and secured
a supporting role. From that point on, he participated in the fall
and spring plays, which occurred, for the most part, during
basketball’s off-season.
    As expected, Jesse’s teammates didn’t understand. The
jocks seldom interacted with the creative types, and Jesse’s
interest in stage productions suffered verbal jabs. Yet he
persevered in his craft, enthralled by the ability to climb into
another character, to become someone else for periods of time.
Although film versions existed for many of those plays, Jesse never
rented them until the school production completed its run. While
his cast mates watched the films to study their characters, Jesse
wanted to adopt his role as his own, to create something visible
from the unseen.
    Unknown to those outside his family, Jesse possessed
an innate ability to empathize with the pain of others. As a boy,
Jesse would spot random individuals, such as a woman who sat alone
on a park bench or a man who had entered his final years of life,
and imagine how it must feel to wake up in the morning to their
isolation. This tenderness helped fuel his interpretation of
characters.
    During his junior year, he played the role of Willy
Loman in Death of a Salesman . And with the depth of human
experience embodied by that character—the battle of despair and the
ache of failure—the deal was sealed. Jesse Barlow would pursue a
career in acting.
    But this present wait, which couldn’t have lasted
beyond a minute, bordered on eternity for Jesse. He sneaked a
glance at Mark Shea and his crew, but they continued to whisper and
shuffle papers.
    At last, Mark nodded to his assistant and leaned
toward Jesse. “I have to tell you, you look good to us. Your
interpretation of the character was dead-on accurate. You’re the
exact height and build we need. Now granted, this part is only a
few lines long, but for the film, we also need to take some shots
of this actor playing in a basketball game.”
    He’s already talking about the film shoot, Jesse thought. A positive sign—a strong one. Jesse’s heart rate
jumped a notch.
    “Because the part is small, we won’t invest in
basketball training,” Mark continued. “Do you have experience with
the game? Nothing superior; just the basics. Enough to