Page 32 of Holly Jolly July

Mariah

I ’ m grateful Ellie let me break her Christmas movie diet. Feeling her squirm next to me as Ripley runs from face-sucking aliens

is comedic gold. I don’t even flinch as the story progresses since I’ve seen it close to twenty times, but somehow Ellie’s

lived under a rock and this is her first experience with the iconic classic.

“What do you like about this again?” Ellie asks, tucking closer to me.

I let her snuggle up, enjoying her warmth. “It came out in the seventies, but look at these practical effects! They’re so

subtle, so realistic. Like the way the egg moved—did you notice that?”

She wriggles in closer. “Yup. Sure did.”

“And then when the face hugger shot out of the egg and onto that guy’s helmet, it was blasted with high-pressure air hoses,

and they used clams and mussels to make the inside of it look real and fleshy.”

“Yuck.”

“Yeah! And the part where the alien bursts out of his chest?”

She covers her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

“They used real animal organs in the dummy body and the cast had no idea what was going to happen, so when it burst out and

it was so gory and repulsive, they were completely surprised, and their reactions are genuine. It was awesome.”

“I would have shit my pants.”

I snort a laugh.

“Clean up on aisle two,” she adds.

I laugh even harder.

“Was the alien itself CGI?”

I shake my head. “CGI wasn’t a thing back then. That was an actor in a suit.”

“No way,” she scoffs, slapping me in the tit with the back of her hand. “Oops, sorry.”

I barely notice, going on. “The actor was over seven feet tall. The suit was designed by this Swedish artist named H.R. Giger.

I actually have a book of his artwork at my apartment. He’s the creepiest motherfucker. The shit he comes up with are the

things of horror—”

“Obviously.” Ellie gestures at the screen as Ripley comes face-to-face with the alien’s inner jaws. She clenches her whole

body. “How’d they get it so... slimy?”

“Lube.”

“What! No way.”

“I’m totally serious. They bought it in gallons.”

“I had no idea you could buy lube by the gallon. Maybe we should run to Costco and go in on one together. Lifetime supply,

yo!”

She grins at me, and I smile back.

“Knowing how they made it actually makes it less scary,” she tells me.

“Hope I didn’t ruin the magic.”

She shakes her head. “If anything, it’s more magical this way. I can see why you think it’s so amazing.”

My chest warms, glad I’ve opened her mind to the genre. “It is amazing. This movie changed my life. My aunt showed it to me for the first time when I was nine—”

“Nine!”

“And it’s what got me interested in sci-fi, horror, and makeup. And—”

“Wait, wait... nine ?”

I shrug. “Yeah. My parents weren’t pleased and didn’t let her babysit me too often after that.

But Alien is about so much more than gore and jump scares, and that’s what she wanted to show me, what my parents didn’t understand.

It was—is—a groundbreaking film. Not just because the special effects are so amazing, but because this movie is a complete feminist icon.

Back then, women weren’t heroes. They weren’t action stars.

But Sigourney Weaver fuckin’ nailed it, and Ripley became not just an amazing female protagonist, but one of the most iconic action stars of all time. What a badass.”

Ellie twists in her seat and looks up at me. “I think you’ve talked more just now than the entire rest of our time together.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” she says, grabbing my leg and smiling. “I like it.”

I relax against her.

She continues, her voice gentle. “It’s clear you’re extremely passionate. And you obviously have the talent to make your dreams

come true. I have zero doubts that someday you’ll get to work on an amazing set like this.”

My heart swells at her words, then sinks with reality. “I doubt it.” I force myself to look away from Ellie, fiddling with

a loose string on the blanket over our lap. “I’ve applied for lots of jobs over the years, all over Canada and the United

States. And yet, I keep doing the same boring shit over, and over, and over again. I thought this movie would be my big break.

I thought, hey, it’s a movie, it’s gotta be better than what I’m doing in the wedding scene . But I’m here, and I’m still doing the same thing I’ve always done. I feel even further from my goal than before.”

Ellie gives my arm a squeeze. I look down at her, and she’s so close, her big doe eyes shining. We share a moment of silence,

a buzz of electricity building between us as tension coils in my belly.

Our eyes dance. She leans closer. My lips part...

“Do me,” she whispers.

My heart stutters. “What?”

“Do my makeup.”

“Oh.” I blink a few times and give my head a shake, letting the tension dissipate. The zing I’d felt earlier must have been

my imagination. “Are you sure?”

Ellie sits up, tucking her legs underneath herself. “Yeah! Do my makeup the way you wish you could, if you were on an awesome set like this. Please?”

She doesn’t have to ask me twice.

I retrieve my duffel bag from my car and sit her on a stool in the kitchen, Aliens playing in the background for inspiration. We switch effortlessly between silence and conversation as I apply the various

layers, giddy to finally use all the expensive shit I bought eons ago but have barely touched. “I love your nose,” I say,

running my finger up the ridge as I spread makeup onto it.

“Really? I wish it were smaller. And swooped up at the tip, like Tinker Bell’s.”

“What? No. I like this little bump here.” I run my finger along it one more time. “The first time I did your makeup I remember

thinking, ooh, I like this nose, this is a different nose .”

“No, it’s weird.” She cowers, trying to cover it.

I stop her with a gentle reprimand. “Don’t touch your face. I’m almost done.”

She sighs, trying to relax. “It’s not just the weird hump on my nose. It’s my mouth. I’m not sure if my chin is too small,

or my teeth are too big, or my lips are too thin, but there’s something off about it.”

“What? No, you’re—”

“And my eyes are too close together. Paired with my nose that’s too long, it’s disconcerting. And don’t get me started on

my hair. If only it would make up its mind! Is it curly? Is it straight? Can it do just one thing rather than a bit of everything?

Like, get it together—”

I grab her chin and force her to look into my eyes. “Stop it.”

She gulps, her eyes darting back and forth between mine.

“Stop dissecting yourself like that. There is nothing wrong with your nose, or your lips, or your chin, or your teeth, or

your eyes, or your hair. Okay? You’re perfect, just the way you are. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

Her eyes grow round and glassy, and I can feel her throat working behind my fingers.

I continue. “If you changed any of those things then you’d look like everyone else. And where’s the fun in that? We’re all

meant to be different. That’s what makes the world such a beautiful, interesting place. Promise me you won’t talk about yourself

like that again.”

She gives a small nod.

“Say it.”

“I promise,” she squeaks.

“Good.” I release her chin, then stroke a finger up her cheek back to her nose, where I was working. “It’s like you’ve looked

in the mirror too much,” I muse, letting my eyes wander over all the things she perceives to be less than perfect. “Like when

you stare at a word too long and you convince yourself it’s misspelled.”

“I never thought of it like that,” she says quietly. “But you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

“I guess I’ve always thought it’s my appearance that typecasts me in secondary roles, starting way back in junior high when

I auditioned as Juliet and had to play Mercutio.”

“I don’t know what happened there, but it’s not because of your appearance, trust me. You’re stunning.”

Ellie sits up straighter, glowing from my praise. “You’re pretty gorgeous yourself.”

I snort. “Thanks.”

“Seriously! Your hair is amazing, and you have these lush lips and full cheeks, and you’re so tall! Plus, you have the exact

body type I always wanted. When I was a kid they always told me I’d grow boobs when I got older, but that never happened.

You got my share, apparently.”

“What are you talking about? Your boobs are great.” I look at them a little too closely. They’re small, the perfect size to

fit in my hand. “And I bet they don’t give you lower back pain.”

“True. But look at you, you fill out your clothes so nicely, and there’s so much to squeeze! I love it!”

I snort a laugh, amused. “Yeah, that’s true. I’m high on squeeze-ability.”

We settle back into silence, though this time it’s a little different. I’m not sure if Ellie compliments every woman’s figure

or talks about their boobs. She probably does. But part of me wishes it was something she only did with me, and I have no

idea why.

Several minutes later I’m finished with my design and release Ellie to stretch her legs and go to the bathroom.

“Holy shit!” she shouts when she sees herself in the mirror. “I’m an alien warrior priestess!”

I wait for her to finish going to the bathroom and come back out. She’s right, she does look like a badass crossover between

an Avatar humanoid and an H.R. Giger monster. It’s not my best work since it’s late, I’m tired, and I didn’t want to take more than

an hour to do it, but it’s still pretty good.

Ellie slinks around the space, embodying the creature, making weird clicking sounds. “Okay, that’s creepy,” I admit. “Can

I take your picture?”

“Picture?” She shakes her head. “Fuck that, let’s make a film!”

Ellie is an amazing actress, but it turns out she’s also a phenomenal director. Within seconds she has a story in mind and

is placing me around the cabin, telling me where to look, how to arrange my face, guiding me as she films. Then she hands

me the phone and gets me to film her for several shots. Afterward, she balances the phone precariously on a stool for the