Brian glanced up and said nothing.
"Did you make a note?"
"A mental one," Brian replied calmly.
"Dumbbells!" Walker exclaimed, turning on his actors again. "You're supposed to play ignorant people, not be them. When I speak, you listen. When I say something, you do it. Is that a difficult concept for you to grasp?"
The kids onstage had drawn together like a herd of sheep.
"Following directions-is this something new to you? You speak English, don't you? Next to you, Shakespeare's ignorant rustics are rocket scientists!"
Well, I thought, with that kind of encouragement and confidence boosting, everyone should be nervous enough to make more mistakes. Feeling bad for the kids, I made a suggestion. My father always talked about understanding the whole pattern of a play's blocking, seeing it as a large piece of choreography. I pointed out the pattern Walker was creating so that the individual directions would become clearer to the actors. I could tell from their faces that they understood.
"I get it," Denise said.
"Yeah, that makes sense," added a guy named Tim.
Shawna gave me the thumbs-up sign.
Walker sent me a cool, thankless stare. To the rustics he said, "We'll work on this after lunch."
We all figured we'd been dismissed early and started gathering our things. Then Walker turned to me. "There are fifteen minutes remaining. Puck, fairy group, Oberon, Titania. Act Two, Scene One. Let's go."
I wondered why we were doing the scene for the second time that morning.
"Brian and Doug," Walker added, addressing one of the tech directors, "I want it run with lights."
I saw Brian's eyes narrow and I realized then what was going on.
"I think that's a bad idea, Walker," Maggie said.
"And I think you're not the director," he replied, then descended the stage steps. "I want house lights all the way down, stage lights up. Doug, who do you have working with you?"
"Samantha."
Walker nodded. "Good. Do it."
I walked up on the stage knowing it was useless for me to argue. Walker was in a bad mood, my suggestion had come unsolicited, and worse, it was a good one. Now he planned to put me in my place and erase the applause from earlier that morning.
I took off my shorts, but left on my T-shirt; it made me feel less vulnerable.
"Walker, we have already discussed the best program for Jenny," Maggie reminded him. "You agreed that incremental exposure was the remedy.
There is no point in doing this."
Oh, there's a point, all right, I thought.
"Places," Walker said, ignoring Maggie. "Lights."
I stood in the right wing, watching as the lighting shifted, then measured my steps back from the springboard.
"Enter Fairies and Puck," Walker directed.
I raced forward and sprang. Flying through the air, propelling myself off the horse, tucking for my rotation-I was focused totally on the gymnastics. Then my feet touched ground and I was in a flood of light, aware of a sea of dark faces below me. Fear clutched my heart. I fought it-it was stupid, irrational, senseless-but it was as strong as ever.
" 'How now, spirits, whither wander you?'" I asked the fairies, my voice thin as thread.
Katie and another girl, who split that particular fairy part, began their speech of fifteen lines: "Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire… "
I tried to concentrate on what they were saying, but my stomach felt queasy. My hands grew moist.
"We do wander everywhere, Swifter than the moon's sphere; And we serve the Fairy Queen, To dew her orbs upon the green."
My heart beat fast. I took deep breaths, trying to slow it down.
"The cowslips tall her pensioners be, In their gold coats spots you see: Those be rubies, fairy favors, In those freckles live their savors."
My knees shook. I was drenched with sweat. I needed chalk to grip the beam.
" 'Farewell, thou lob of spirits,' " the fairies concluded. " 'We'll be gone. Our Queen and all her elves come here anon.'" The next set of lines was mine.
" 'The King doth keep his revels here tonight,'" I said, pulling myself up on the beam as if I'd never mounted one before. " 'Take heed the Queen come not within his sight.'" I rose slowly from a crouch, my heart pounding.
" 'For Oberon is passing fell and wrath because that she as her attendant hath-' " It was unnerving the way the others watched me, as if waiting for me to slip.
" '-A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king.'" I struggled to keep my focus.
" 'She never had so sweet a changeling. And jealous Oberon-'" A wave of sickness washed over me.
" 'And jealous Oberon-' " I clutched my stomach. My mind went blank. I couldn't even think to call "line," as actors do when they forget one. I began to teeter. I caught my balance then heard a collective catching of breath.
"For heaven's sake, Walker!" Maggie chided.
"All right. House lights."
I dismounted the beam, then grasped it like a stair rail, trying to steady myself. The lights came on. Walker climbed up the steps and stood in the middle of the stage, pivoting slowly, looking us over.
"Take lunch," he said, then strode toward the back stairs. No one moved until the sound of his footsteps disappeared.
I returned to the seats to gather my things, but Shawna already had them for me. Brian spoke to his mother, and everyone else filed out quietly. I left with Shawna on one side and Tomas on the other, avoiding everyone's eyes. When we got outside, I found that Mike had positioned himself at the top of the concrete steps.
"Jenny? Jenny, look at me."
I glanced up, miserable and ashamed, knowing I could never explain my fear to someone who, like Liza, thought being onstage was "a blast."
"It takes a certain kind of person," I told him, "to believe that everyone wants to love you. And I'm not her."
Dear Uncle Louie,
I'm here at drama camp. (Thanks again for your recommendation.) I have a question, one I'd rather ask you than my father. Our director, Walker Burke, knew Dad years ago in New York. Here at camp Walker is quick to criticize New York theater and put down Dad. (Of course, he doesn't know I'm a Montgomery.) Someone here told me that Dad was in Walker's last show-that Dad pulled out of it and the show failed. Could you tell me what happened?
I'm not going to say anything to Walker-l just want to know what stands between them. Thanks.
Jen
I sent the e-mail to my godfather, then took a long shower. I was grateful to Maggie for allowing me to spend lunch alone at Drama House, and I returned to the theater feeling much better. Things seemed back to normal, except that Brian was watching me a lot.
"I'm fine," I whispered to him. "Don't stare. People will notice and I don't need any more attention than I've already gotten."
Walker had decided to spend the afternoon getting the rustics straight. Tomas was told to divide the crew work among the rest of us and proved that he was more savvy about people than he let on. He gave Ken, Paul, and two others flats to paint inside, where they could be supervised, and sent Lynne and three responsible types outside with the spray paint. Two neat, quiet girls were assigned leaf stencils. Maybe he thought Mike and I were friends after yesterday: he asked us to paint the canvas that would cover the vaulting horse.
We worked on the ground floor, underneath the theater, across the hall from the dressing rooms and wardrobe. Sawhorses, drafting tables, and workbenches were spread throughout the cavernous room. There were pegboard walls of tools, shelves of paint supplies, and large rolls of canvas and paper, along with flats and screens that looked as if they had been painted over a hundred times.