Several days go by and nothing doom-worthy happens, at least not to me. Ms. Prentice is on paid leave until her trial, which isn’t until after the end of school. So Ms. Bianco fills in a couple more times, then a temporary teacher is hired. He keeps the class totally health oriented, so it’s not as exciting as Triangle of Life, but that’s okay. Talking veggies is a lot more tranquil than worrying about trust, respect and responsibility. We get enough of that stuff from Duke in You and Others. Of course, I don’t exactly trust or respect Duke, but I guess he’s responsible enough, as far as I can see.
Everything has come together for the performance of Macbeth tomorrow night. In one paint-splattered, laugh-filled afternoon Colt and I turned the chair into a convincing throne and the plain goblet into a golden, bejeweled chalice. The dress rehearsal last night in the auditorium went great. We found all the props we needed, the costumes and sets looked great, the light crew knew what it was doing and everyone knew their lines. One of the art classes made a decapitated head out of wax that looks exactly like Trevor in costume as Macbeth. Duke’s going to be hosting and footing the bill for a reception with what he said will be “heavy duty” refreshments in the gym after the play for cast, crew and audience. The only tiny glitch is that Trevor’s voice didn’t project to the back row of the auditorium very well. He said he had a slight cold and had forgotten to gargle, but he’d be sure to gargle plenty between then and show time, and besides, he thought his cold would be over by then.
* * *
Saturday night is finally here and it’s totally crazy backstage before the start of the show, but a good, full-of-excitement type of crazy. Colt and I and the rest of the props crew get everything set up for the first scene. Then Colt shoots videos and I snap pictures backstage. It’s early and Trevor is still in the dressing room, so Nina is practicing her lines with Marc helping her. She sounds great and looks totally confident.
The audience has just started to filter in, so Colt and I sit on the floor in back of the scenery. Our work is done until we need to move stuff around for the second scene. I’m actually twitching with excitement. “I can’t wait until the curtain goes up!”
“Me too,” Colt says. “I think this is one performance of Macbeth that’s not going to be spoiled by bad luck.”
“What?” I blink in confusion. “Why would you mention bad luck?”
“You know,” Colt says lightly. “It’s kind of folklore that bad luck is associated with performances of Macbeth.”
“Oh, no!” I start to breathe in quick, shallow gasps. First Ms. Prentice, now Macbeth. I know it’s crazy, but I can’t help wonder if I’m next!
“Don’t worry.” Colt places his hand on top of mine. “Take it easy.” He smiles. “It’s just superstition, like saying break a leg instead of good luck.”
I bite my lip. “I hope so.”
Colt’s hand lingers on mine a moment longer, then he slowly pulls it away.
Suddenly I hear this loud buzz and realize it’s people on the other side of the scenery talking in worried tones, but I can’t quite hear what they’re saying. “I wonder what’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Colt says. “Let’s find out.” He offers me his hand and pulls me up. Again, his hand kind of lingers on mine for a moment. He is a gentlemanly kind of guy, so I guess he’s just being, well, gallant or something.
We step around to the other side of the scenery where Nina and Marc and a bunch of the other actors are gathered, looking uneasy and uncertain. I go up to Nina and quietly ask, “What’s going on?”
“Trevor has laryngitis,” she says in a whisper, so the audience can’t hear through the curtain.
“Poor Trevor,” I say. “Who’s his understudy?”
“That’s just it,” Marc says. “There is no understudy. Duke had a theory that they’re not necessary, that not having one prompts the actors to really know their roles.”
I slap my forehead. I am totally speechless.
“Hmm. That was poor planning,” Colt says, plucking the understatement of the year right out of my thought waves. “So now what? Is the play postponed? Canceled?”
“It can’t be.” I say. “Not after how hard we’ve all worked on it.” Okay, so I’ve had to deal only with props, but still.
“Duke went down to the dressing room to talk to Trevor. He said everything would be fine.” Nina twisted the giant “ruby” ring on her hand. “And if Duke says it, I believe him.”
“Oh.” I wonder if I’m the one who’s all wrong about Duke. I mean, I’ve felt bad karma waves from him starting back on day one. But Nina’s no fool, and she is closer to Duke than—Uh, oh. I hope she’s not too close to him! I close my eyes and give my head a shake to rid my brain of any image it might even try to conjure up about that.
Next thing, Duke walks onstage in Trevor’s Macbeth costume! He’s holding a script. “I will be Macbeth. After all, I’m totally familiar with the entire play.”
But I bet he hasn’t memorized the lines, and that’s why he’s got the script. Is he actually going to “perform” by reading it?
“There will be a brief announcement that there’s been a cast change,” Duke says. “It happens all the time, even on Broadway.”
So … Mr. Never Justify is justifying.
“I’ll curl the sides of the script a little to make it look like a scroll. After a few minutes, the audience won’t even notice any more,” Duke says in all seriousness.
Colt and I glance at each other and I can tell we are both thinking, Ri-i-i-ight.
“Okay,” Duke says. “Places everyone.”
We all scatter to our appropriate locales. The announcement about the cast change is made. There’s a low murmur from the audience. When Duke makes his appearance, script in hand, there’s more of a rumble from the audience.
It does not get better from there. Duke is off on the timing of his entrances and exits more than once (but Nina does a pretty good job of covering for him when they have scenes together). In one of the scenes with the three witches, the middle witch blows a bubblegum bubble. In another scene the spotlight has trouble following Duke because he doesn’t always go where he’s supposed to when he’s supposed to. In a fight scene near the end a sword hits one of the wires holding up the scenery and there’s a loud twang.
The final indignity is when Macduff enters the castle with Macbeth’s decapitated head—only it’s Trevor’s head, of course, not Duke’s! About a third of the audience gasps, about a third laughs and the rest just sit there looking stunned.
At the end when the cast starts taking their bows the audience politely, if not enthusiastically, applauds. I say to Colt, “Well, at least all the right props were in all the right places at all the right times.”
Colt gives me a fist-bump.
Nina gets the loudest applause of all. Duke doesn’t really take a bow. He just nods his head and quickly exits. Finally, the curtain closes.
“Well,” Colt says, as he stands and gives me a hand up. “The theme of Macbeth sure came through in this performance.”
“Um. Refresh my memory,” I say. “I don’t remember exactly what the theme of Macbeth is.” Probably because I’ve never heard it.
Colt leans down to whisper in my ear. “That arrogance is punishable by terrible vengeance.”
I think about that for a moment. Duke could sure be considered arrogant, at least in my opinion. And the disaster tonight could qualify as terrible vengeance. “Yeah. Tonight’s performance definitely fits the theme.”
The word at first is that Duke is going to cancel the reception. Someone must have gotten to him, however, and pointed out how bad that would look and how poorly it would reflect on him, because almost right away it is on again
Colt and I head to the gym, find Nina and congratulate her on her performance.
“Thanks,” she says. “I just wish Trevor hadn’t lost his voice. I mean, Duke did his best, but of course he couldn’t really perform on such short notice.”
Nina is being awfully kind in regard to Duke. I guess it’s just her natural niceness shining through.
Colt places a hand on Nina’s shoulder. “Macbeth is a play that’s traditionally plagued with bad luck. I guess tonight just reinforced that.”
“That’s for sure.” There’s a beginning of a smile at the corners of Nina’s mouth. “I thought I would faint when the sword hit wire and made that loud twang. And when Macduff came out with Trevor’s head ….” Nina claps her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.
I’m glad she sees the humor in all this.
Just then Nina’s mother and my parents come over to congratulate us.
“Oh, sweetie, you were wonderful!” Nina’s mother gives her a big hug. “I just wish your father could have been here.”
I wonder what excuse Nina’s father used this time. I mean, he never shows up for anything.
“The props were amazing!” Dad says in overly dramatic fashion. “And all in the right places at the right time too!” Like daughter, like father.
“And … and the costumes were wonderful,” Mom says.
“Will you need a ride home?” Dad asks.
“No, I’ll walk home with Nina after everything wraps up.”
“Okay, we’ll head out then,” Dad says.
Other parents and teachers circulate around the gym, congratulating everyone politely, if not as dramatically as my Dad did.
Tanya and Del and Randi and Kurt run over to congratulate Nina on her performance and Colt and me on the props.
“I just wish things had gone a little more, uh, smoothly,” I say.
“Hey!” Randi says. “No one is ever going to forget this production of Macbeth. When we’re hobbling around at our fiftieth high-school reunion we’ll still remember it!”
“We’ll only be in our sixties at our fiftieth reunion,” Kurt says. “So I hope we won’t be hobbling around.”
“Ah, my ever-practical Kurt!” Randi squeezes his hand and gives him a peck on the cheek.
Kurt’s face flushes with a look of pure rapture.
Maybe Randi and Kurt are the real thing now. I haven’t heard Randi mention Justin much at all lately, so I guess she’s over him. For Kurt’s sake, I hope so.
Speaking of Justin, I see him and Madison saunter into the gym, Madison looking totally bored. Justin is scanning the room. He stops when he sees Randi.
I realize that Randi sees this out of the corner of her eye. She whispers something in Kurt’s ear as she runs a finger up and down his forearm. Kurt looks as if his heart is soaring. Justin looks as if he is turning several shades of green with jealously.
Uh, oh. Is that what Randi wants? For Justin to be jealous?
Before I have time to worry about the possibility of Kurt’s heart being trampled and ground into the dirt under Randi’s heel, Principal Demchak makes an announcement directing everyone to the refreshments at the back of the gym. Randi and Kurt and Tanya and Del decide to walk over to Funky Coffee instead, but Colt and I feel we should stay. I don’t know exactly what I’d been expecting heavy-duty refreshments to be; maybe some platters of sliced deli meats, cheese and crackers, chips and dips, veggie trays, stuff like that. But I do know I thought there’d be something a bit more substantial than the peanuts and some sort of artificial fruit drink that Colt and I find there.
“What a feast of celebration,” Colt says as he pops a peanut in his mouth.
I try a sip of the juice or whatever is it. “I’d say let’s drink a toast to the ‘success’ of the play, but I’d advise against swallowing any of this stuff.”
Duke skulks around trying to look as if everything is just fine. A few people speak to him briefly, but most circle around him. I mean, I don’t think I could think of anything polite to say to him either.
“Hey, I’m going to go get our cameras,” Colt says. “We really should record this revelry for posterity. Be right back.”
The second Colt leaves the gym, Claire trots over with Brent. “Hi, Becca,” they say simultaneously.
“Hi, Claire.” I look deep into Brent’s blue eyes. “Hi, Brent.” I’m not sure what to say. “Um … Colt went to get the cameras so we can get some candids of—” I don’t want to say anything about the quality or lack thereof of the post-play party. “Uh, of everyone in their costumes.”
“That’s great,” Claire says. “I hear you’re going to take pictures at prom too.”
“Uh, yeah.” Word gets around, I guess. But then, she is editor, so I guess she would know about it.
“There won’t be another print issue of To Be Frank-lin after prom, but I’ll post them online.”
“Good idea,” I say. “And thanks.”
“You know, you should save Brent a dance at the prom, shouldn’t she Brent?”
Wow, she’s good, just slipping that in so casually.
“Of course.” Brent gives me a friendly smile. “Now, don’t forget, Becca.”
“Oh, I won’t.” I try to not to sound too nervous or excited, but my heart is doing better cartwheels than the rest of me ever could.
I give Brent my friendliest see you when he and Claire decide to “circulate.”
Finally, the crowd thins out and it’s pretty much just cast and crew milling around. Duke starts pouring what’s left of the peanuts back into a huge canister that looks as if it came from a discount store. Ms. Bianco, Nina and Marc trail after him, picking up paper plates and napkins and putting them in a trash barrel.
Colt and I pitch in to help, since I was going to stay and walk home with Nina, anyway.
Finally everything is done and Nina walks over to me and Colt. “You don’t have to keep waiting for me, Becca. I still have to change my clothes.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” I say. “You don’t want to have to walk home alone.” And neither do I, I do not add. Okay, our neighborhood is pretty safe, but after seeing The Man with Atomic Brain jumping out from behind trees and breaking people in half in an old movie on TV years ago, I haven’t been real excited about walking outside in the dark by myself.
“Don’t worry,” Nina says. “Duke said he’d give me and Ms. Bianco a ride home.”
Hmm. Well, at least Ms. Bianco will be in the car. For some reason the idea of Duke and Nina alone in a vehicle even for only the minute or so it would take to drive her home gives me the same kind of creeps as “The Man with the Atomic Brain” does. “Okay, I say, “And congratulations again. You were really great as Lady Macbeth.”
“Thanks.” A delicate blush runs across Nina’s cheeks. “See you guys.” She turns and leaves.
“Hey, do you want to return the props tomorrow afternoon around two?” Colt asks. “I talked to Ms. Bianco earlier and she said she could stop by then to let us in the school. My Dad can drive us then.”
“Sounds good,” I say. “See you.”
I start to go, but Colt touches my arm and says, “I can give you a ride.”
“It’s only a couple of blocks, I can walk,” I say, probably not too convincingly, because of, you know, The Man with the Atomic Brain walking home in the dark alone thing.
“You don’t want to have to walk home alone,” Colt says with a smile, quoting my exact words to Nina back at me.
“You’ve convinced me.”
As it turns out, it’s sprinkling, so I’m double glad Colt offered the ride home. As we hop into the pickup, Colt’s father says, “That was quite performance of Macbeth.”
“Uh, yeah,” says Colt.
“At least the props looked good,” Colt’s father says.
Colt and I can’t help laughing. It’s a short but cozy ride to my house. Colt insists on walking me to the door. I’m used to his big-brother protectiveness now, so I don’t argue about whether or not it’s necessary. He reaches into the space in back of the seats and pulls out an umbrella. Always prepared, that’s Colt. On the porch he waits while I fumble around looking for my key.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Sure,” Colt says. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Um, I’ll see you at two tomorrow.”
I find my key. “Right.”
He stands there looking down at me, as if there’s something else on his mind. But then he just says. “Okay. ‘Night, Becca.”
“Good night, Colt.” Colt’s gaze seems to travel over my face, as if he’s searching for something, but then he nods and leaves.
I watch to make sure he gets to the truck okay. After all, The Man with the Atomic Brain didn’t hesitate to attack guys. Once in the truck, Colt looks to see if I’m okay, so I figure I’d better head indoors. I mean, somebody has to be the first to stop safeguarding the other or we’ll be here all night.
I go inside. It looks as if everyone else has gone to bed, so I tiptoe up to my room. It isn’t until I’m there that I remember how perfectly Claire worked out the Brent dance with me at the prom thing. For a second I wonder if I can really fill her shoes as Brent’s girlfriend. I mean, she totally looks out for him. But then I picture Brent’s cobalt blue eyes and I think, yeah, I can handle that.
Maybe.