At lunch the next day, I told Charlie, “Did you know that horses eat twenty pounds of food a day?”

Charlie yawned.

“You seem tired. Did you get enough sleep? Too bad you’re not a horse. Horses need only three hours of sleep a night,” I said.

Charlie yawned again. “I’m not tired. I yawned because you keep yapping and yammering about horses.”

“You must be equinophobic,” I said.

“What?”

“Equinophobic. That means you have a fear of horses.”

“I have a fear of dying of boredom. You’ve been talking about horses nonstop,” she said.

“But horses are so interesting.”

“Not to me.” Charlie yawned again.

I found horses fascinating. I had researched them on my computer. I had studied pictures to see what each breed looked like. I watched videos to understand how horses moved. I read articles to find out what horses ate, where they slept, and how they spent their time.

I told Charlie, “The more I know about horses, the better I’ll be at my part in the play. And the better I am at my part, the better the play will be. You should be glad I’m not going to horse around anymore. Get it? Horse around?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Let me tell you, straight from the horse’s mouth —”

Charlie grabbed her lunchbox and stood up.

“Hold your horses!” I called out to her.

But she walked away.

“Get off your high horse!” I shouted.

She broke into a trot.

I spent the rest of lunchtime reading the Snow White script. I planned to read it at least three times a day until the night of the play. I was excited to make the most of my part and be the biggest actor I could be.

At the start of rehearsal, I asked Mr. McNutty, “What kind of horse am I supposed to be?”

He shrugged. “It’s not important.”

It was very important to me and to the play. I said, “I want to do the best I can in my role. So I need to know exactly what my role is. If I’m playing a cold-blooded horse, I’ll move slowly. If I’m a hot-blooded horse, I should run fast. If I’m playing a warm-blooded horse, I’ll act graceful.”

“You can decide that yourself,” Mr. McNutty said.

“What about my breed? Did you know that there are 350 breeds of horses in the world?”

Mr. McNutty yawned.

“Should I play an Arabian horse or a Palomino or a Clydesdale or a Mustang or a —”

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Yes, you should decide that for yourself too. You’re putting a lot of effort into such a small part,” Mr. McNutty said.

I wouldn’t let Mr. McNutty stop my effort. “There are no small parts, only small actors. And I am not a small actor,” I said.

“Huh?” Mr. McNutty scratched the top of his head. His hairpiece fell to the side of his head. He looked very silly.

Owen put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Zeke, you’re wasting everyone’s time. There are small parts and small actors. You have a small part. It’s much smaller than my part. The horse just says neigh a few times. The prince is a starring role. Also, you’re a small actor. You’re a lot shorter than me. You’re a tiny little shrimp.”

“I view the horse as a major role, and I think of myself as a giant actor,” I said.

Owen shook his head. “I think of you as a fool. Now let’s start rehearsing.”

“First I need to find out more about my part,” I said. “For one thing, why does the horse stay with the Evil Queen? She’s evil. Why doesn’t the horse join the dwarfs and Snow White? They’re much nicer and more fun.”

“I never thought about that,” Mr. McNutty said.

“Shouldn’t the horse give the Evil Queen a kick in the head?” I asked.

Grace scowled at me.

“Why does the Evil Queen even need a horse?” I added. “If she’s magical enough to own a talking mirror and put spells on people, she should just fly where she needs to go.”

“Then let’s get rid of the horse,” Grace said.

“Yeah. Get rid of the horse,” Emma G. said.

“Yeah. Get rid of the horse,” Emma J. said.

“If the Evil Queen did have a horse, it would be a big one, like Owen.” I pointed to him.

Owen frowned and said, “Mr. McNutty, Zeke is trying to change parts with me. That’s wrong.”

“And Zeke wants to kick me in the head. That’s wrong too,” Grace said.

“I don’t think the prince and Snow White should kiss. That’s wrong too. They hardly know each other,” Charlie said.

Mr. McNutty rubbed his forehead as if he had a horrible headache. Then he said,