At school, Henry had to face another sort of horror because we had a new class project: the school play.
“Everyone in the fifth grade gets a part,” Ms. Biniam said. “I expect one hundred percent participation!”
Usually, you want to be in a play. You have to audition to get a part, and it’s super exciting when they post the cast list. But this was as voluntary as a fire drill, and from the very first second it went badly. And it did not help that we lost our afternoon recess almost every day to make time for the rehearsals.
“I’m organizing a strike,” Henry said as we were waiting backstage, hidden behind a cardboard castle. Renee was up on a stepladder because she was Rapunzel.
“You can’t organize a strike,” I said. “This is Biniam’s favorite assignment all year. She said so.”
“Well, I’m not going onstage in that costume she gave me,” Henry said.
“Be quiet!” Renee hissed at us. “I need to hear my cue.”
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your golden hair,” Ms. Biniam said.
“Why is Biniam reading the lines? Where’s the prince?” Henry asked.
“Had to go home,” I said. “I heard he has lice.”
“Every time I hear that word, my head starts to itch,” Henry said.
“Rapunzel, RAPUNZEL!” said Ms. Biniam.
“See,” Renee said. “You made me miss my part.”
“You know that doesn’t make any sense,” Henry said. “Obviously her hair is not golden. It’s brown.”
“Maybe they’ll give her a wig,” Zack said. “A wig full of lice!”
“Shut up, Zack!” Renee said.
“Don’t worry about it, Renee,” I said. And then I stepped out from behind the castle.
“What’s going on back there?” Ms. Biniam asked.
“We were thinking he should say, ‘Let down your beautiful hair.’ You know, since Renee has brown hair.”
“Fine,” said Ms. Biniam. “Let’s continue with the rehearsal.”
“I don’t care what she says,” Henry was saying behind the castle. “I’m not wearing it. There’s no way.”
I sighed and went out to talk to Ms. Biniam again.
“Also,” I said. “Henry is really unhappy about his costume. Just so you know.”
“Henry’s costume is already sewn. And that is the costume that Henry will be wearing. Just so you know,” said Ms. Biniam.
I was speechless. Ms. Biniam had never talked to me that way. Ms. Biniam, who is so beautiful she looks like an Ethiopian princess, and so kind that kids look forward to having her as their teacher for years. Years! I just stared at her, neither of us saying anything. And then we heard the fight break out backstage.
“Maybe I already know my lines!” Zack was yelling.
“You don’t even HAVE real lines,” Renee said. “You’re an ogre! All you have to do is stomp and grunt.”
“What are you laughing at, Henry?” Zack screamed.
And that’s when the castle tipped and collapsed with a thud. Renee shrieked, Henry laughed harder, and Ms. Biniam closed her eyes and started to rub the bridge of her nose. “Line up at the door,” she told us. “Twenty-minute recess.”
Things got even worse during dress rehearsal. Because of the costumes. Since Ms. Biniam changed the part about the golden hair, Renee did not have to wear a wig.
“You saved my life, Barbara Anne!” she told me. After that, she acted like we were best friends or something.
Renee got to wear her real hair, braided, of course, and this pale blue princess dress that was basically the best costume in the whole show.
I did okay too. I was Little Red Riding Hood, so I got to wear a checked dress with a white apron and a shiny red cape. Ms. Biniam painted solid red circles on my cheeks. That part was a little ridiculous, I thought. But other people said I looked adorable, and who was I to argue?
But Henry. Oh wow, Henry did not do well in the costume department. Here’s what he had to wear: green velvet shorts with white kneesocks and suspenders. I felt sorry for him. I really did. People were just starting to get to know him, to see the real Henry a little and not the kid in the chess school T-shirt, and Biniam went and dressed him like some leprechaun lost at Oktoberfest. It was an outrage, really.
But it was kind of hard not to laugh too. I managed, but certain people did not have my level of self-control. Renee and Zack? Well, they could hardly contain themselves.
“Zachary!” Ms. Biniam said. “This is dress rehearsal. Show some respect.”
“Yes, Ms. Biniam,” Zack said. But then he whispered to Renee, “What is he? An elf?”
Biniam heard him. She has amazing hearing. It must be her strongest sense. (Mine is taste.) She is good at everything, really. Except makeup. I’d give her a C, C+ tops, for makeup.
“He is Hansel, Zack. His name is Hansel,” Ms. Biniam said.
“I thought his name was Henry,” one of the younger kids said.
“His name is Henry, sweetheart,” one of the volunteer moms said, looking up. And then she pointed to Ms. Biniam to get the kid to pay attention.
“His name is Henry/Hansel, whatever. And your name is Zachary,” said Ms. Biniam. “And this is dress rehearsal! And that does not involve talking!”
Before I had time to point out that we would obviously have to speak to perform the play, Ms. Biniam said, “Barbara Anne, that goes for you too.”
Man, she was taking this thing seriously. Henry gave us all a smug look because we had gotten in trouble. All because of him and how stupid he looked in his stupid costume. That smirk on his face made me mad. I had a few things I wanted to say, but, fortunately for Henry, I had to go onstage. It was time for me to get fake-eaten by the wolf.
Things were pretty tense in our pod the day of the play. Actually, the whole class was pretty cranky, but I tried not to pay attention to any of it. A good actress has to know how to concentrate. I figured that once the play ended, things would go back to normal. Everyone would congratulate each other on how well we all did, and we would be friends again.
And I was right, in a way. Things went great. For me. I remembered all my lines, and it was really exciting to be onstage! When I got off, it was Henry’s turn to go be Hansel. He looked ridiculous in his green velvet shorts and goofy suspenders. He also looked terrified.
And that is why what happened next happened next. I was afraid he wouldn’t go out there at all if I didn’t give him a little encouragement.
“Break a leg, Henry,” I whispered.
And then I gave him a little push. Not a shove. Just a little gentle nudge, really. I’d call it a nudge. The trouble was that whatever you call it, it was enough to send Henry out onto the stage while his green hat with the feather on top landed just behind the curtain at my feet.
And so I did what you do when somebody drops something. I yelled, “Hey, Henry, you forgot your hat!” And then I walked out and handed it to him. And then I noticed everyone. The audience. It looked like the whole city of Seattle was staring back at us, waiting for something to happen. So I did a quick curtsy before I ran off.
People laughed. And clapped. There were a few whistles, even. And Henry, of course, was mortified. I couldn’t see it because of the makeup, but I knew his face was bright red. And the look Henry gave me before the audience stopped laughing! Well, I pretty much figured that my friendship with Henry was over.
When I got offstage after the show, I didn’t know how to feel. Everyone was there: my mom; my dad; my baby sister, Rachel; my grandmother; my cousin. It was a nice turnout. They were all telling me how great the play was, and it would have been the best time ever except that all I could think about was what happened with Henry. His family was there too, so I asked my mom if I could go over and say hello, and I got just-for-a-minute permission.
“Henry was really great in the play,” I told his stepmom. Because everyone likes to get a compliment. Also, I was hoping they weren’t mad at me about the whole thing with the hat.
“Where did they get that costume?” Alice asked.
“Alice,” Henry’s father said in a serious voice (and he gave her a warning look). Sophie put her hand on Alice’s shoulder. Alice is such a stepmother’s pet. Is that a thing? I’m pretty sure it is. And I’m pretty sure that if you look it up in the dictionary, Alice’s picture is in there.
“We should get going,” Sophie said to Henry’s father over the top of my head.
“Nice to see you,” I said. “Have you seen Henry?”
Henry came up then in his outfit/costume. I was just about to tell him how great he was in the play when, despite all warnings, Alice burst out laughing. Maybe she felt safe because Sophie was standing behind her. But this is the surprising thing that Sophie said: “Alice, stop. You should be very proud of your brother. It takes real courage to get up onstage and perform for a live audience.”
“Especially if you’re wearing that!” Alice said. She was hooting like an owl.
“That’s enough,” Henry’s dad told her. “Let’s get going. It’s getting late,” he said to the whole family.
“I forgot my backpack,” Henry said. He seemed embarrassed. I wanted to apologize so badly, but Henry wouldn’t even look at me.
“Go get it,” his dad said. “I’ll pull around out front.”
Henry was miserable, and I couldn’t blame him. His whole family and most of the school had just watched him humiliate himself in green velvet shorts. And, without meaning to, I had made it even worse. I had to explain. I had to talk to him.
That’s why I followed Henry.
The hallway was packed with people, and outside the rain was coming down so hard you could hear it hitting the glass of the windows and doors. People were dashing to their cars, crouched under their coats and huddled together under too-tiny umbrellas. “Wow,” someone said as they opened a side door of the school. “It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?” But I wasn’t worried about the rain; my mind was on Henry. And I kept my eyes on him as we wove through the crowd.
And that’s when things started to get strange fast. First, Henry walked right past his locker. And so I walked right past too. I guess you could say that I was borderline spying on him at this point. I’ll admit it. When I turned my head and looked back at the gym, I could see my parents and my grandmother still talking to people. Well, I could see my father, anyway, because he’s pretty tall. So I decided it would be okay to keep going a bit farther down the hall; I had a little time.
Henry didn’t even seem to notice that he had gone too far. He was like a zombie. What was he doing? His parents were waiting outside in the car. I couldn’t figure it out with my brain, and it was hard to see it with my eyes too because there were so many people in the way. But then I saw Henry start up the stairs toward the music room. I followed, and as I went up the stairs, I could hear it. Somebody was up there. Playing the piano.
Henry disappeared into the dark room ahead of me. And when I reached the doorway, I froze. I let my eyes get used to the dark for a minute. I couldn’t tell where the music was coming from. It was everywhere. The song was so loud. Loud and fast. It filled the whole room; it bounced off the walls. And the music wasn’t the only creepy thing. I wish it had been.
Once my eyes got adjusted, I saw Henry standing next to the piano. I’d know him anywhere, even in the dark. But here’s the thing: nobody was at the piano. The bench was completely empty. So I kept walking forward. I needed to know what was happening. My heart was pounding so hard I could sort of feel it in my ears and my chest both.
“Henry?” I whispered. I guess it was absurd to whisper, really. But I think I was a little scared. Anyway, I expected Henry to turn his head or something, but he did nothing. He just kept staring—at the piano, at the empty bench. And when I got close enough, I could see that the keys of the piano were moving. All by themselves. Henry wasn’t playing the piano; he was watching somebody play it. We both were.
And for the first time, in my head and my heart and my body, I was as terrified as Henry must have been all along.