Lucky Break #6

It was two weeks before the end of the semester, and the whole school was gathered in the theater for the principal’s assembly. The oldest students had already taken their final exams and would be leaving today. Some were hoping to go on to music college or a university, while others already had jobs lined up in the music industry.

Younger students like Marmalade and Danny, sitting together near the front, were already looking forward to the long summer vacation as a time to relax for a while. But before that, there were still two weeks of school to get through. Each student chosen to perform at the Rising Stars Concert would need every day of those two weeks to prepare. Everyone was in a fever to know who the students were going to be and today was the day they’d find out!

First, everyone had to sit through lots of tedious but important announcements. At last Mrs. Sharkey, the principal, came to the most eagerly awaited moment of the assembly.

“And so to the Rising Stars Concert,” said Mrs. Sharkey, knowing full well how impatient everyone was to know who had been chosen. “The staff has looked carefully at everyone’s progress throughout the year, during class work as well as performances at the school concerts. We try to have as wide a range of acts and ages as possible, but because the concert is only a half-hour program, the numbers are very restricted. This means that the majority of students chosen are bound to be seniors.” She paused, and every single student waited, breathless with excitement and anticipation. Then she started reading out the names of those chosen, and at each announcement knots of students here and there clapped for their friends. After reading out five or six names, Mrs. Sharkey paused.

“We also have a few outstanding younger students,” she said. “And some of them have also earned themselves places in the concert. Rosie Masters will play her latest piece on piano.” Her friends cheered, and Rosie beamed. “George Guinness will play guitar.” A roar went up from another part of the theater. “Danny James has been chosen to play drums and Chloe Tompkins will sing.”

Everyone near Danny and Chloe erupted in excitement. Marmalade fixed his face into the best grin he could manage and thumped his best friend on the back. “Good job!” he told him. “I knew you could do it!” The rest of their friends were congratulating Danny and Chloe, and Marmalade took his chance to turn away and hide the misery in his eyes. He didn’t want to spoil their pleasure, but it was very hard to bear after Marmalade had felt so close to being chosen himself.

Chloe was sitting on the other side of Danny. She leaned over and they gave each other a big hug. “Good job!” she said. “It’s amazing. We’re actually going to be on television!”

She giggled and clutched her head. “Well, my hair has grown out a little,” she said, smoothing the wispy tendrils over her ears. “And anyway”—she glanced at Marmalade—“someone wanted to borrow a beanie, so I lent it to them.”

The whole room was full of excited students congratulating one another, and Mrs. Sharkey was smiling for once as she watched them. As everyone started to calm down, Marmalade struggled to his feet.

He made his way slowly along the aisle, and out through a side door. He was glad to get away from all the excitement in the theater. But there was another reason for him to leave. Everyone was still involved with the assembly, and no one noticed him reach the stage door and go in. He and Jack had been secretly working on Marmalade’s idea for a dance, and Mr. Penardos had been so impressed that he’d encouraged them to perform it today. But Marmalade had changed. The overconfident extrovert had gone and his belief in himself was low. In a few minutes, everyone was going to get a big surprise, and Marmalade hoped it would be a successful one.

“Are you ready?” asked Marmalade. Jack nodded. He held the crutches while Marmalade struggled into the coat. Marmalade took Chloe’s black beanie from his pocket and crammed it over his hair. Jack had to help him push some of the red curls under the beanie, and then Marmalade pulled it right down. Without his trademark hair, Marmalade looked completely different.

Jack was wearing bright, floppy clothes that were far too big for him. The costume department had done well. His face was a white, greasepainted mask. He looked just like a circus clown. Threads of black string were attached to the ends of his sleeves and trousers.

Together, they crept quietly onto the stage. The curtain was down, and Mrs. Sharkey was still standing on the other side of it, talking to the assembled students.

Marmalade clambered up onto a raised platform at the back of the stage. The platform was often used for performances when different stage heights were needed. Danny always put his drum set there when he was playing—otherwise he would be hidden behind the guitarists. But for now, the platform was empty, except for a single chair. Marmalade sat down on it and rested his crutches by his side. Jack handed him a small crosspiece made of wood and then sprawled in front of him on the stage. Marmalade quickly hooked up the strings on Jack’s clothes and held the crosspiece in his lap. Then they waited in silence.

Mrs. Sharkey was coming to the end of her speech. “Before you go, there’s just one more thing,” she said. “As you know, we often round off these assemblies with a performance. Today we have a very new student, and another who has been with us for a year. Usually, our performances are pop- or rock-influenced, but because of injury, these students have opted to do something very different. Here they are, Jack Cheung and Marmalade Stamp!”

The curtain rose, and Marmalade looked out over the audience. It was wonderful to be onstage, even under these circumstances. Then he glanced down at Jack. He was flopped convincingly on the floor. It didn’t look as if he had any bones at all. Slowly, Marmalade lifted the crosspiece he was holding, and Jack started to come to life.

To begin with, the music was slow and careful, as Marmalade took the role of an old, lame puppeteer, teaching his puppet to move. Jack had to learn how to stand, how to move without falling over, and how to sit down properly. The audience laughed at Jack’s antics. But gradually, the mood changed and the music quickened. The puppet learned fast and soon got better and better. In no time, he was getting impatient with the strings that held him. The puppeteer tried to restrain him, but he was old and infirm, while the puppet was young and getting more exuberant by the moment.

Jack was playing his part brilliantly. And instead of everyone laughing at Jack’s antics, now the audience was anxious for Marmalade’s character. The pupil was stronger than his teacher now, and soon a real struggle was going on for ownership of the strings.

Eventually, the old man was forced to release his puppet. Now that Jack was free, he taunted the puppeteer. He danced out of reach, and performed jumps and spins that the old man would never be able to do.

The dance ended with Jack leaping out of reach, and dancing triumphantly offstage, while the puppeteer stood, leaning heavily on his crutches—a beaten, lonely old man. Once Jack had disappeared, Marmalade returned to his seat and sank down onto it. His misery was there for all to see as the music, and the dance, came to a poignant end.

For a few moments after the curtain fell, there was silence in the auditorium. Then everyone burst into applause. The dance had captivated everyone. Jack had been a perfect, playful, strong-willed puppet, and Marmalade had portrayed the sadness of the old man to perfection.

The boys came out to take their bows and everyone cheered them. Jack and Marmalade grinned at each other. It hadn’t been the dance Marmalade had been hoping for at the beginning of the semester. The Rising Stars Concert was going to take place without him. But he was performing again, and it had gone wonderfully.

With any luck, over the summer, Marmalade’s knee would finish healing, and he would be able to come back to school fit and well. This brief performance had done a lot to boost his confidence, and Marmalade could feel his old, buoyant self returning. But he would never risk injury again by behaving stupidly, and from now on, he would keep his fooling to jokes, rather than jumps.

Marmalade turned to Jack, determination shining in his eyes. “I know it,” he said. “With our skills combined, we’re unbeatable. We ought to have a pact for next year. Rising Stars!” He raised his hand and Jack did the same. They clapped their hands together and grinned.