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Orange Tree and the Lost Key

August 15, 2012

Almost time for reflective memories to fill our minds as abundantly as falling leaves from orange trees.

I remember one of our unforgettable moments during the shoot for We Grew Up Here. We were in a field on the border of Hartford and Upland, Indiana. We had pulled over both vehicles, unloaded our coolers into the shade and captured our first shots when a red truck pulled into the scene. Turns out it was the owner of that particular land and he simply wanted to make sure we weren’t hooligans.

Filming continues, scenes are underway and I notice Andrew and Stef talking a ways away from set. I knew something was up or in this case down, down on the ground. “I lost the key to the van,” Stef says. “What?” I ask. The key was in her front t-shirt pocket and fell out somewhere in this hay-covered field. “Don’t tell Kevin. He will lose his mind.” Kevin did need to focus on shooting. We were losing light. Caleb was recruited into our efforts and everyone began trying to save our day.

I’m standing on Caleb’s back so I can reach through the crack in the window. My arm get’s stuck. Caleb pauses. “You’re joking right?” “No,” I say in a little bitchy rush. Caleb calms me, “Just relax or you’ll make it worse.” That’s what I say to all my lovers. My arm is free, the door now open. “Great, here’s the registration. Have Andrew call his friends to see if he can get a key made for the van,” and I go back to our vast film field.

While Andrew Neel is calling god only knows I lie to some of the crew saying that I lost my house key. Now I have some helper eyes to find this key we all need. I let Kate in on the truth. She’s like, “Oh shit. What are we gonna do?” We start looking. Soon my lie is caught, the truth learned by all and Kevin flips out. “Oh great, now we’re fucked.  Why the fuck was the key in your front pocket,” he asks Stef. “O.K. calm down, let’s all play a game called needle in a haystack,” I suggest trying to counter the dark cloud forming over Kevin’s head. So here we are, searching, for a key in hay field.

“The Gods keep telling me it’s by the orange tree,” I share with Kate. We’re both searching by the orange tree and I’m literally thrashing my hands through the field like two rake heads. I whisper a childish prayer. A tuft of straw moves to reveal a sing silver circle. I place my finger through it and pluck a shiny key from the field. A scream of jubilation and all heads turn my way. Kate hugs me, “Yes!”

Stef returns with Andrew from their plan-b expedition. “You are a life-saver,” she says “I felt like I was gonna pass out and throw up everywhere.” We hug. We all hug and many smiles and a couple of smokes later we wrap with the Upland field.

Small chances can return great joy, no matter if the light of day has almost passed. Here’s to the poetry in life, finding a single lost key underneath a makeshift orange tree.We Grew Up Here

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