Scene 11
Some people are all superstitious-y about dress rehearsals. They think that if it goes really well, then that means the actual performance will have a terrible problem. But that’s probably because they didn’t have me here. There’s no way that anything will go wrong!
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror this morning, I made sure that I wasn’t wearing any blue, like all my favorite theater websites say not to do. Just in case. Instead, I’m wearing my yellow camp t-shirt with beige shorts and my favorite red socks. I made sure to put on my white sneakers so that I can match Irene Brown. And for a little extra luck, I tucked one of my extra The Drowsy Chaperone playbills into my backpack before we left this morning. Carrying it around feels like having the original cast cheer me on.
Irene Brown pulls me aside right after I get into the gym that morning to give me the instructions for our last day of camp. Tomorrow is the showcase, but it won’t be until the evening.
“How are you feeling today, Maya? I see you have your earplugs in already,” she says. She gives me a little smile.
“Yeah, I thought it might be helpful since we’re all going to be in the gym and you’ll probably be yelling directions to the stage.” I get a little worry bubble in my chest when I say that, but Mom and I have been talking about how I shouldn’t worry as much about being rude. She said that being rude and being direct are different, which is something that’s kinda hard to understand. We’re working on it together.
Irene Brown nods, waving to the camper who calls for her from the other side of the gym. “That’s a good point. I will be yelling directions. And you know what you have to do today?”
I raise my clipboard, which I’ve been holding onto since breakfast. Mom thought it was “a little premature, don’t you think, Maya,” for me to have it out of my backpack so early, but it’s called being prepared!
“I’m going to follow the script that you gave me and make sure all the campers know their lines and get to their places in time,” I say. It makes me feel all buzzy inside. Irene Brown is counting on me to make sure that this performance goes well. I can’t wait for everyone to see all my hard work tomorrow! Even if they won’t know that it’s all because of me . . . since I’ll be backstage.
“You got it. And you know where to find me if you run into any trouble?”
“Yes, right in front of the stage, in those chairs you set up.” There are a couple of the squeaky folding chairs sitting in front of the stage. It’s where Irene Brown was sitting during the auditions and it’s where she’ll be while we do our dress rehearsal today. She’s told me this a million times already. Every time she told me, I let her know that I heard her, but I guess sometimes adults forget. I never forget anything, so that must be weird for them.
“That’s perfect. You’ll do a great job. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you have any questions, okay? That’s what today is for!” She’s already walking away as she says this, meeting up with one of the camp leaders who has a page full of questions.
I squeeze the clipboard to my chest and look at the curtains covering the stage. They’re pulled loosely to the center. There’s a little sliver where they aren’t touching and I reach out to tug them together. Starting now, I’m going to make sure everything is perfect until the final bow!
“Maya, where does this go?” Hakim gestures to the record player stand. Even though it’s the most important part of the set pieces, he’s looking at me like he’s never seen it before. “I don’t remember.”
When I tried to help him and his brother with the mirror game before, I felt all weird inside, like how my classmates make me feel. But now, he’s actually asking my advice! I point to the place on the stage map that shows where it should go, and he nods. Then he rushes out to set up the stand and all the other set pieces that Man in Chair will need.
Carine taps me on the shoulder. “Hey, how am I supposed to play this scene again? I keep forgetting.”
“Oh, that’s—you should perform like you’re the hero of the day!” I say.
Carine stares at me for a minute and then nods. “Thanks, Maya!”
A few other campers ask for my help setting up the lights and the stage until finally, it’s time to start the dress rehearsal. I shake out my hands a little bit, letting the excitement flow through me.
When we finally finish the dress rehearsal, I feel like a giant house has landed on me and all that’s visible are my feet. I’m so tired! I thank my ear plugs a hundred times as I gently twist them out of my ears and place them in the travel case.
Irene Brown comes over and taps me gently on the shoulder. “I wanted to tell you that you’ve done such a great job helping the other campers. I can see the way that you’ve helped them over the last week. And I know it’s been hard when you wanted to be on the stage, but I knew you’d be great at this. I’m so proud of you, Maya.”
That was exactly the kind of thing that I wanted to hear her say when I signed up for camp: I’m so proud of you, Maya. I just didn’t think it would be about assistant directing. I thought it would be after my big solo on stage, after I hit those notes and nailed the choreography. Still, something about this feels really good. Almost as good as when I’m at home dancing around with my mom. Like I’ve found a place where I can be me.
My brain is spinning so fast I don’t know what to say, so I just nod and thank her. She says something else before walking away. I watch her for a moment. She picks up a chair from the middle of the gym and, after walking to the other side of the gym, places it softly on top of a stack of chairs. There’s not even a little bit of the usual scraping noise of metal against metal that the campers make when they stack the chairs. I wonder what else THE Irene Brown is good at that no one else has noticed.
“Five . . . inhale, exhale. Four . . .”
“Hello?”
“Uhm, hi, can I, is this Aislinn?”
“Maya! Oh I’m so glad you called! I was just thinking about you!”
“You—you were?”
“Of course! I’m so excited about the performance tomorrow and I wanted to tell you how happy I am that you’re going to be backstage, helping all of us. You’re such a great assistant director.”
“I am?”
“Totally! You don’t think so?”
“Well, not really. I feel like I only know what I’m doing sometimes.”
“But you know so much about the musical and how musicals work and how to help us do our best. I know sometimes the other campers have been annoyed, but I feel so much better knowing that you’re there. Like, if I forget a line or something, I know you’ll have it ready.”
“That’s right! I want everything to be perfect tomorrow.”
“Can I . . . I wanted to ask you something?”
“Ask me what?”
“Do you . . . do you really think I’m going to . . . this is so dumb, I know, but do you think I’m going to do a good job tomorrow?”
“Oh.”
“I know, I know, we’ve been practicing so much. And you’ve been helping me, which I really appreciate! It’s not that I think you did a bad job trying to help me. Or that I haven’t been practicing. I’m just . . . nervous.”
“No that, uh, that makes sense.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s really important to you, cause your parents are going to be there. But you’re going to be great.”
“You think so?”
“When you’re Janet, you make me believe you really are her, Aislinn. For real.”
“Maya! That’s the nicest thing . . . thank you.”
“Oh, you’re welcome.”
“You’ll definitely come over even after camp ends? We have so many musicals to watch!”
“Definitely!”
“Okay, I’m gonna go practice my lines. See ya!”
“See you tomorrow!”