Wilfriends! I'm wrapping the behind-the-scenes commentary up today, but I'll likely do one now and then (meaning every week or two). And I take requests. In fact, I have one already. Person who made the request, are you serious about me commenting on that scene? Because you know I will. Wink.
Thank you all for your kind words.
Fairwil
Chapter: Preview at the end of "Stay Awhile"
Monty stepped into the storage room
and shone his flashlight in our faces. “Now. Who in here wants to work out some
tension and pickax the hell out of an old wall?”
“I do!” shouted Gomery. This is the first/last time I typed the words "shouted Gomery," I do believe. He's not a shouter by trade.
“Me!” I yelled. Not the first time I've typed "I yelled" though, by a long shot. :)
“Mmm hmm. I knew I should have made
up more lyrics. Fair, you’re going first, because seeing a woman wielding a
pickax while rocking my comfort wear is a fantasy of mine. The fact that we’re
about to find a pool on the other side, and I’m gonna save the day and my
family’s motel, was not part of the fantasy, but you can bet it will be. Oh,
unsexy protective goggles’ll have to be part of the fantasy, too, since we’re
all about safety first at the motel. Except when we’re not.” What's on the other side of the wall that's located at the back of The Wilfair Hotel's basement's secret basement? Monty thinks it is a pool. It could be anything, really, since old hotels tend to best other buildings in the "strange secrets" departments. Seriously: Next time you stay at a hotel built before 1950, ask a chatty staffer about a) secret rooms or b) ghosts. I promise they'll have an anecdote for you. Or at least they'll tell you some weird story, because hotels are weird story-makers.
He handed me the eyewear and I
slipped the bulky plastic gear over my head, taking care not to catch my damp
hair on the elastic. A piece of cracking plastic pinched the top of my nose. I
turned toward the cousins and adjusted. “Weddy,” I said nasally, and gave a thumbs up. No joke -- if safety goggles are around, or *any* goggles, I have to try them on and then, I don't know. Pretend I'm a robot or something? But: safety goggles!
“Unsexy protective goggles are so fantasy,” agreed Gomery, who didn’t
sound like he was joking. Gomery 2.0
I discovered three things wielding
the pickax. One. I was a natural. Two. Swinging a pickax hides the fact you’ve
been sweating like a first-time jogger over completely non-pickax-related
events. People will just call it pickax sweat and be done with it, not knowing
it was really sweat from being face-stroked and called “this person” multiple
times by your own this person. There are a few instances of physical activity in the books: The throwing of snowballs and the potential smashing of crystal mint dishes and the tearing down of this wall. I included these moments because there has to be somewhere Fair can put all of that new zingy energy that's coursing down her arms, an energy that zig-zags upward every time she spies the little pi sign between Gomery's eyebrows.
And three? There was no pool behind
the wall. But there was a door with a carved dolphin. Numbering thoughts and listing things appear in all the books, I believe. I sometimes do this in real life, too (which you likely know if we've emailed).
“Heeyaw!” I ripped, putting the
pickax into the wall for the eleventh time. "Heeyaw" is a colorful sibling to yelling "yell," of course.
“Sorry, Mer, I don’t think you’re
getting your shot. There’s something poetic though about Fair Finley destroying
her hotel, so I’m willing to let her have all the fun.” There is something to be said for dismantling the main thing that preoccupies our time and mind, and then reconstructing it in a better way. Maybe not via pickax, though!
“Guys. Guys.” I panted. “I see a
dolphin.”
“A real dolphin? Man, those are
some smart mammals. Well, not if he got stuck behind the wall in your storage
room, but maybe he was down here trying to get it on with this other dolphin he
worked next door to and couldn’t really officially date, and he accidentally
got stuck.” Monty kind of annoys me here, and I wish he'd be quiet, which is why I kept it in.
“A carved dolphin.” I marveled.
“We’re close.” Monty raised the
flashlight. “Blue-wave tile and a dolphin. That ain’t a dentist’s office on the
other side of that wall.” Honest? It could be. My old dentist office was painted in shades of lavender, floor to ceiling. A sea motif would be very soothing for patients.
“It’s a door,” I panted, pulling
the plastic eyewear down around my neck. The items Fair Finley has had on or around her head in the books thus far: a snood, Gomery Overbove's necktie, plastic safety goggles.
Gomery joined me.
“You’re right. Let’s get the rest of this wall down.” We began ripping the old
plaster with our hands, tearing and dropping chunks at our feet. He’d reach for
another shred of wall and I’d already be on it, shredding. And then I
discovered a fourth benefit to this particular exercise: People who are dying
to kiss but haven’t should find a false wall and rip it down together,
bare-handed and wet with perspiration. It could be a fun first date activity,
instead of dinner and a movie. I am rather partial to offbeat dates, whether it is a first date or you've been together forever. I always have a suggestion ready, too, so email me if you need ideas. If Fair and Gomery ever have an official first date I don't think it will involve shredding a secret wall, bare-handed, though it might involve holding onto the edges of a diving board.
Yeah, I said it.
