The matinee dress rehearsal of the musical did not go off without a hitch. There were hitches aplenty, because this was a high school musical. Just being in high school felt like one big hitch to Ana.
In act 1, someone placed the wrong Audrey II onstage before the “Feed Me” duet. This meant Brendan had to either pretend a completely stationary potted begonia was their antagonist, or he had to serenade his hand and pretend it was a talking plant.
He decided on the former, which was wise, considering their audience. It was easier for seven-year-olds to pretend a plant was talking than to pretend an arm was a plant.
For Ana, the biggest hiccup was the juggling of last-minute line edits. Elementary schoolers were far too young to see a raunchy tragicomedy about vicious murder, urban poverty, and man-eating alien plants, but Mr. Oldman assured the staff it would be censored.
“We’ll save the blood spatter for the evening shows,” Mr. Oldman announced, as if that resolved the issue. He added to the cast, seconds before the curtain lifted, “Make sure you cut all of the adult humor out. I mean all of it, or they’ll have my guts and intestines for garters and socks!”
Ana had no time to think of alternatives to words like “semi-sadist.” During the ensemble opener she sang “fa la la” to gloss over a lyric about ripped slips.
She focused on the task at hand, got lost in the character at hand. When Audrey I was eaten alive by Audrey II, Ana climbed into the mouth of an enormous flytrap puppet and fell into the jubilant arms of cast members beyond the split curtain.
“We killed it, Ana,” Brendan declared, after he too was eaten.
“It killed us.” She took his hand.
Since they’d watched Platinum climb into a car and head for the airport, there had been a lot of this. It proved to be what they needed: something to hold on to when the sky or the desert seemed too empty.
During the musical Ana must have kissed Brendan. Right after “Suddenly Seymour,” as they had during the last few practices. She had no memory of it.
That was Audrey’s business, and she was Ana Vasquez.
When it came time for curtain call, Ana looked for Milo among the shell-shocked seven-year-olds, but didn’t see him. She did spot Penny. For some reason, the pigtailed girl’s typically fierce face was now anything but, red-flushed and tear-streaked.
“If my class is going, I’ll go, too.”
So where was Ana’s spacey little brother?