CHAPTER 12

 

Some friends of mine from New York—old Broadway buddies—are starting the first-ever Shakespeare Down the Shore festival right here in Seaside Heights. They’re putting together a cast right now,” Ms. O’Mara tells us.

“Why do they need kid actors?” I ask.

“Because their inaugural show is A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Some of the cast needs to be youthful, unlike old dinosaurs like me.”

“Are you going to be in it?”

“Hello? It’s Shakespeare! They’ve asked me to play Titania, the queen of the fairies. So I suggested we audition you guys to be my supporting cast.”

“Huh?” says Dan.

“Puck, Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed.”

“Huh?” This time Bill says it.

“They’re the fairy queen’s fairies.”

Jeff blushes. Clears his throat. “You want me to play a fairy?”

“If it helps,” says Ms. O’Mara, “don’t call them fairies, Jeff. Call them shrewd and knavish sprites or merry wanderers of the night.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool. That’s better.”

“That’s what Shakespeare calls them,” Ms. O’Mara explains.

“I know,” I say. “That’s why we couldn’t understand what you were saying about Sprite. I like 7UP better.”

Everybody laughs.

“Auditions aren’t until the weekend,” says Ms. O’Mara. “So you have some time to think about it. But it would be such a blast to do a show with you guys. You’re all so good onstage.”

“True,” says Jeff. “We’re all that and a bag of chips.”

“Where are they doing the play?” asks Dan.

Ms. O’Mara smiles. “On the beach, on the same stage as the music fest.”

“No way,” says Jeff. “That thing is huge.”

“I know. And there’s nothing better than doing Shakespeare outdoors under the stars. We’re scheduled between the Battle of the Bands and the Southside Johnny concert. My friends have already sold, like, a thousand tickets!”

I raise my hand.

“Yes, Jacky?”

“Are the fairies funny?”

“Definitely. Especially Puck. He’s very… puckish! You know, playful in a mischievous way.”

Hmmm, I think. Sounds like me. Especially when that little devil is whispering in my ear.

“Is that where the word puckish comes from?” asks Bill. “From Puck?”

“Yes,” says Ms. O’Mara. “We get a lot of modern sayings from Shakespeare. ‘Forever and a day.’ ‘Heart of gold.’ ‘In a pickle.’”

“Oooh,” says Jeff. “All of a sudden, I’m hungry.”

The bell rings. It’s the last bell for the last period on the last day of school!

Ms. O’Mara looks a little sad.

“‘Parting is such sweet sorrow,’” she says.

“More Shakespeare?” I ask.

She nods.

It’s weird. None of us want to dash out the door, even though the last day of school rivals Christmas morning on the I-can’t-wait-for-it scale.

But not this year.

“Wh-wh-when are those auditions a-g-g-gain?” I ask.

“Saturday. They’re posting notices at the high school, too.”

“W-w-we’ll think about it,” I say.

“Yeah,” says Bill, looking at me with a worried look.

In fact, everybody is looking at me worriedly because, all of a sudden, I’m stuttering again.

Yep. Just thinking about Shakespeare, with all his strange and mysterious words, will do that to you.

Well, to me, anyway.