Handsome and Greta (Seven Ways to Sin 3)
“Just five more minutes,” I said. I pulled the covers over my head and rolled onto my side.
“That’s what you said ten minutes ago,” said Hans. “Come on. You need to get some breakfast. We’ve got a long day of work ahead.”
I groaned. “A long day of work ahead. That’s not exactly the most motivating thing you could say to get me out of bed.”
“Would a bucket of cold water be more motivating?”
There was no joking in his tone of voice. I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. With what strength, I could only guess. From the shower, I called out, “You guys go on ahead. I’ll be down in six minutes.”
We had to be at the top of the mountain at daybreak for the ideal light. I slept on the bus ride - only twenty minutes, but it did me a lot of good.
Once we’d gotten set up and began the shoot, miraculously my lethargy and exhaustion went away. In truth, it wasn’t exactly a miracle, and it wasn’t the joy of work, either.
My rejuvenated spirits and newfound energy had more to do with the view from the mountains. We were shooting at a much shorter peak this time.
Perth wasn’t a distant dot like it had been the day prior. Instead, I could see the rooftops, the occasional car going lazily down the winding roads, and even spotted two dogs playing in a yard. With the sun rising on the distant horizon, the whole scene put a blissful smile on my face.
The sight of Perth was actually putting me in a good mood. Though I couldn’t give Perth too much credit, more specifically, it was the sight of The Gingerbread Love Shack.
By 10 o’clock we’d finished all the shots we’d planned for that location. It was time to pack up and head to the next spot—steeper slopes on the other side of the mountain; slopes that didn’t look down on Perth but rather onto a white spruce forest.
As we were packing up the bus, I slipped away for one more shot of Perth in the late morning sun. Hans joined me.
“Just one more week,” he said. “It’ll be over soon enough.”
I sighed with regret.
Hans picked up a rock and tossed it aggressively over the side of the lookout. “Perth,” he spat out with disdain.
I turned to him. “Hans, we might as well try to make the best of it. Perth isn’t all that bad, really.”
“Perth isn’t all that bad!?” He looked at me as if I had sprouted a second head. “Are you some kind of alien? What have you done with my sister?”
I smirked then looked back onto Perth. “I’m still your sister, Hans. I’m just saying, maybe we’ve been letting all our bad luck get us down. Maybe, for once, we should dream about the future instead of dreading it.”
“Dream about the future? Greta…” He extended his arms out, open palms up, and shook his head.
I nudged him with my shoulder. “We’ve got work. The view is nice. Why not dream a little?”
He sighed.
I nudged him again. “I’m right, aren’t I? Admit it.”
“Greta,” he said, his voice betraying his exasperation. “I hate to spoil your good mood, as inexplicable as it is.”
“Then don’t,” I said.
“It’s just,” he started but then just sighed again and shook his head.
“Just what?”
He looked at me squarely. “Greta, I’ve been hitting the books, crunching the numbers.”
“They’re not good. I know,” I said.
“No. They’re not. I’ve worked the figures every which way.”
“And?”
“You know all the money we make from this job is going to go towards our debt?”
“I know that.”
“And it still won’t be enough,” he said.
“I know that too. But we’ll get through it. We always do.”
He kicked a rock and watched it tumble over the cliff. I took his arm and pulled him away from the edge.
“I mean, what’s the point?” he said. “We’re broke. We’re going to stay broke. We’re going to lose the agency. We’ll be living out of our car again.” He kicked another rock.
I put my hands on his shoulders and squared him to face me. “Hans, don’t give up hope.”
He chuckled. “Hope? I gave up on hope ages ago.”
I glanced off to the side at Jake’s workshop in the distance and bit down on my lower lip. “Hans, I think, maybe...”
“Maybe what?”
I looked him square in the eyes. “I think I might have found a way. I think I might have found a way to pay off all our debts and save the agency.”
He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “How?”
I looked back at the view of Perth. “I can’t tell you. Not just yet.”
Hans let out a long breath. “More secrets, is that it?”
“You’ll have to trust me.”
My attempt to cheer up Hans backfired. Instead of finding any hope in the future, he found secrets and suspicions in the present. Fortunately, work kept us from arguing. We had to drive to the other side of the mountain, set up, take our shots then drive back to the lookout in time for a shoot featuring a sunset backdrop.