“And now the fun part.”
Amanda put her hand on a glass doorknob and said something under her breath. The kids leaned in to hear. She laughed a vibrant laugh. “You must think I’m weird. Sometimes I whisper a little saying to bring luck when I enter an important room.” Monica smiled. She did little things like that too. With another laugh, Amanda opened the door. “Welcome to a very special place!”
The kids recoiled.
“Your new, very own classroom! Consider it your home away from home!” Amanda said with pride.
“This is disturbing,” said Hudson.
A silence. Then Relly started to hum. Then sing. “Growin’ up in the ’burbs…”
“They all think we’re disturbed,” April continued.
“We’re never quiet and neat…,” Monica whispered.
They all began to sing quietly and perfectly in sync to the show’s opening number, “Growin’ Up in the ’Burbs.”
Growin’ up in the ’burbs
They all think we’re disturbed
We’re never quiet and neat
Yeah, they all think that we’re freaks
We don’t wear khakis like Dad
’Cause we’re young and we’re rad
With my friends till the end
On this little cul-de-sac
Adventure is always in store
’Cause we all want more
The makeshift classroom, far from the bustle of the auditorium, was dank and windowless. Compared to the energy and chaos of the rest of the theater, this was no-man’s-land. Cut off from the rest of the world.
“I guess Mr. Hoffman really wants us out of the way,” April said with annoyance.
“Cue the howling wolves.” Relly imitated the sound of a wolf.
“Oh, bravo, Mr. Morton!” Amanda said. “You should get that recorded for the sound guys.”
“There are no windows,” Hudson said.
The old prop room had been cleared out and a classroom thrown together in its place just last night. The low lighting wasn’t ideal for studying, and it smelled like wig powder and shoes. There was a long rectangular fold-up table in the middle, where all four kids would sit on the same side facing a dry-erase board, on which Amanda had written in cursive: Welcome, April, Hudson, Monica, & Relly!! Aside from a silly rubber chicken that hung by its waist from a blue rope on the wall, the room lacked any personality.
“Hey, I get it—chicken cord on blue!” Hudson laughed from the doorway.
“I don’t get it,” Relly said.
“Chicken cordon bleu. It’s a chicken dish with cheese in the middle,” Hudson answered with a full smile, dabbing lightly at the perspiration that had collected on his brow. Hudson wasn’t a fan of narrow hallways or narrow rooms, but he was a fan of talking about food.
“Correct! Well done, Hudson, well done! Sometimes, kids, the answers are right in front of you! That’s your first lesson of the day.”
She went to the board and wrote under their names, in the exact same cursive, Sometimes the answers are right in front of you.
“Excellent work.”
Then she pulled out a little sheet of gold-star stickers and placed one on Hudson’s shirt. He blushed. “Uh, thanks,” he said. The other kids laughed.
“Who else wants stickers?” Amanda said. They all raised their hands.
The silliness was shattered by plumbers clanking pipes in the boiler room below. “The waterfall saga continues,” April said, shaking her head. The mechanics of the waterfall had been a problem for the stage crew all week. The Ethel Merman’s old pipes could only manage to kick out a trickle of water a few pathetic pulses at a time down the tongue-shaped slide that was needed for one of the musical’s pivotal scenes.
“Or the curse of the Ethel Merman,” Relly said with a hint of excitement.
“Amanda, what do you know about the Ethel Merman’s curse?” April asked bluntly.
“Hmm. I don’t know about the theater actually being cursed—bad productions and some accidents here and there, sure, but otherwise, I just don’t know. I suppose I think anything that seems unexplainable usually has an answer,” Amanda said.
“What do you mean by that?” April quizzed her further.
“I mean, after all, the theater is a place where stories are told and released into the world and given life. Don’t you think? Sometimes the messages cross and stir up the energy of a place.”
“Stir up energy? Like ghosts?” April continued to probe.
“Hmm. I don’t know about ghosts. Let’s see.” Amanda tapped her chin. “You know how when you’re really little you think there are monsters under your bed?”
Hudson raised his hand. “Still do.”
“It’s just your imagination.” Amanda smiled.
Could Amanda be right? Monica thought. Were all the things happening in the theater just monsters under their beds?
“You mustn’t give those rumors of a curse too much importance, or they’ll get you.” With that she jabbed Hudson in the arm playfully with her finger. At that very moment, a loud crack of thunder rocked the building, and the lights in the classroom went out. Pitch-black.
Hudson was the first to scream.
April grabbed at the list of traditions in her pocket. Monica held on to her elephant necklace and whispered a little prayer in Spanish.
“Amanda, you there?” Relly whispered.
“I’m here,” she said casually.
“What do you think about the curse of the Ethel Merman now?” Relly whispered in the dark.
“What do I think? Hmm. What do I think…” Amanda thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t think losing power during a thunderstorm is related to any curse, if that’s what you mean. Old theaters have old systems. There are answers for everything, my dear squad. Answers for everything. I’m sure the power will be back on any minute.”
It didn’t come back on, so they managed to feel their way back to their dressing rooms with help from their cell phone flashlights and packed up for the day. Artie had called off rehearsals due to the power outage.
“Want to grab an early lunch with us? Great pizza parlor around the corner,” April said to Monica as they felt around for their things.
Monica hesitated. She thought maybe she should be with her abuelita.
“Come on, one slice,” April said. “Bet you haven’t tried New York City pizza yet, have you?”
Monica smiled. “I hear the tap water gives it its yummy crust.”
Joe’s Pizza was bustling, even midmorning. Relly and Hudson were already sitting at the counter eating a pepperoni pizza. Hudson was in the middle of critiquing the sauce while Relly took a video. April pulled out her phone and took an action shot of the four of them. #sliceoflife
“So do you think the power going out is just bad luck or the curse?” Hudson asked between bites.
“Curse, definitely.” April grabbed a piece of pizza and blew on it to cool it down.
“Hugh’s nose?” Hudson went on.
“Oh man, total curse,” Relly said, wiping his mouth and laughing.
“And just as we’d finally gotten the routine down,” Hudson said.
“How long have you been rehearsing it?” Monica was curious.
They all thought for a moment.
“A week,” Relly said.
“A week!” Monica was surprised. “How long have you been rehearsing for the show?”
“A little over a month,” April said through bites.
This did not make Monica feel any better, and the group could sense it.
“Don’t worry, we’ll help you catch up,” April reassured her.
“Yeah. It’s not your fault you came in late,” Relly said. “Artie called in a bunch of understudies kind of as emergency backup when he saw that things weren’t going smoothly.” Monica realized in that moment it was the reason she got the last-minute call to head to Broadway.
“I have a confession,” Hudson said, finishing his root beer. “I’ve
never seen anyone break their nose before, and when I saw all that blood… I thought I was going to faint.” He shivered.
Monica was used to the sight of blood. She’d stopped counting the number of times Freddy would have a seizure and bang his face or bite his tongue.
“Hey!” Hudson said, changing the subject and the mood. “Anyone want to play Broadway Barnyard?”
Relly and April said yes. They looked at Monica.
“What’s Broadway Barnyard?” Monica asked sheepishly.
“Someone starts out by singing a song in a farm-animal voice—you know, like clucking like a chicken or something to the tune of a Broadway song—and the others have to guess it,” April explained. “I’ll begin.” April thought and thought, cleared her throat, and began: “Oink, oink, oiiiiiiink, oinky…”
“Helloooo, Dolly!” Hudson answered, singing the tune.
Hudson followed it up with a song from Fiddler on the Roof in cow. When it was Monica’s turn, she did a song from Starlight Express in sheep. Her baa-baas made Relly fall off his stool with laughter.
By the time they were finished, their bellies hurt from laughing. They even got some of the people in the pizza place to join in. A gruff guy making pizza behind the counter sang an Italian song in duck quacks. Monica had a new feeling about the production. Giddiness. Broadway kids were pretty cool. Now all she had to do was work extra hard to catch up. And keep up. Secretly, she worried she would never be as good as any of them. In fact, she worried about that quite a lot.
She was also worried about the actual show. Amanda was wrong. The power never came back that day or on Thursday or on Friday. They were losing valuable rehearsal time.
Interlude
“Growin’ Up in the ’Burbs”
They say, “Kid, get in line
Do just what you’re told”
But if I listen to them
I’ll grow crabby and old
Instead I want to be seen
Shout out loud, and feel free
And when you hang out with a crew
That likes you for you
You’ll never feel alone again
Growin’ up in the ’burbs
They all think we’re disturbed
We’re never quiet and neat
Yeah, they think that we’re all freaks
We don’t wear khakis like Dad
’Cause we’re young and we’re rad
With my friends till the end
On this little cul-de-sac
Adventure is always what’s in store
’Cause we all want more
It’s our time
To show what we’ve got
Yes, it’s our time
To be what they’re not
Just a little bit braver
A little bit wiser
So don’t hesitate
Before it’s too late
’Cause today’s all we know
So come on and let’s go
I know it will be different
Today of all the days
’Cause the tires on these bikes
Won’t lead us astray
We pedal faster than the guys in E.T.
And we’re fighting for justice
For more than just me
It’s like Duckie and Rocky when they had enough
People thought they were losers
But they had the stuff
They just had to find it, way buried within
It’s like us without prom and Adrian!!!
’Cause it’s our time
To show what we’ve got
Yeah, it’s our time
To be what they’re not
Just a little bit braver
A little bit wiser
So don’t hesitate
Before it’s too late
’Cause today’s all we know
So come on and let’s go
Yeah, it’s our time!
Seven BREAK A LEG
Twenty days until opening night
Early Saturday in New York City, and the sun threw glorious reflections on every surface, creating a paradise of glass. Day five, and Monica’s jet lag was finally gone. Seven in the morning felt like seven in the morning and nine at night felt like nine at night again. Because of the power outage, Maria had announced they would be reporting to the theater over the weekend to make up for the missed days of practice. Monica popped out of bed eager for rehearsal, her head filled with thoughts. “Confidence!” she told herself, looking in the mirror. And, pointing a finger: “And I mean it.”
Though this would only be Monica’s second time walking from her hotel to the Ethel Merman Theater, since they couldn’t rehearse in the dark with no power, she knew her way easily. Playing hide-and-seek in the orange groves back home gave her a good sense of direction. Still, her abuelita had made sure to give her a list of landmarks to memorize. If Freddy were there, he’d be skipping next to her, counting something on the walk. Taxicabs or trash cans or trodden-flat pieces of chewing gum on the pavement. Freddy called them pavement freckles. There weren’t a lot of sidewalks in Reedley, except for a few sections of their small downtown, so pavement freckles were a little more of a rare find than in New York City. When she walked to the Ethel Merman that perfect Saturday morning, she noticed freckles everywhere. She smiled. Far, far from home. She rubbed her elephant-charm necklace and noted her last landmark. It still felt like a big deal to be walking around New York City alone.
She wanted to call Marissa and tell her every detail of the city. Then she wanted to call Freddy and her parents and tell them every detail. But they would all be sleeping. The time difference and her rehearsal schedule would make calling home this weekend almost impossible.
Ahead, the Ethel Merman looked a thousand years old, but grand and strong in the bright sunlight. She didn’t get it, the curse thing. Her father would have said, “Sometimes there’s nothing to get.”
Jimmy Onions answered the door before she even had a chance to press the buzzer. “I have an amazing sense of timing,” he said with a welcoming smile, holding a bowl of cereal in one hand. “And a security camera,” he chuckled.
“You work on Saturdays?” Monica asked.
“I was going to ask you the same question. Sometimes I work Saturdays.” Then he clarified, “When weekend shifts don’t show, I’m the first to get the call.” He returned to his space inside. “So, weekend shift didn’t show.”
“Why not?”
“Eh, you know, kids these days. They don’t wanna work the weekend shifts.” He put his spoon in his mouth, pulled it out, and said, “No offense.”
“Maybe the curse scared them away,” Monica said, itching for a conversation that veered in that direction.
“I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’. Sometimes people are unreliable and they don’t show up for their shifts, and then I gotta back out of my weekend poker game with the boys and here I am on a Saturday morning. Voilà-dee-da. That’s all I know.”
Monica noticed a Playbill for Dreamgirls sitting on one of his shelves. It was the first musical she had ever seen. She remembered the night vividly. It had been her sixth birthday, a balmy Tuesday in June. Like any other night, her parents were making dinner, and she was setting the table, when her abuelita walked through the front door all dressed up and laughing.
“Where are you going?” Monica asked.
“Not where are you going—where are we going!”
The show was at the community theater in the next town over. By all standards, it was a small theater, without the best acoustics or lighting, but as far as Monica was concerned, it was Broadway. The actors were amazing. That night changed Monica forever. She had been transported to a different world. Afterward her abuelita managed to get them backstage for autographs.
“Do the actors perform a lot?” Monica asked.
“Of course. Every night. It’s their job.” Her abuelita smiled.
Job? She wandered out of the theater, stunned and insp
ired. “I’m going to do what they just did. I’m going to do that for the rest of my life!”
Jimmy followed her eyes to the Playbill and asked, “You seen it?”
“Once, when I was really little.” Her voice trailed off as she held the memory a bit longer before she snapped back to reality.
“Nothing like Motown to get the blood flowing.” He closed his eyes and bobbed his head. “I’ve seen probably close to a thousand shows, and every single one was a blessing and a gift. Even the flops! Especially the flops.”
He handed her the Playbill. “Here, take it, kid.” It had been autographed by the cast members. “Been meaning to clear out some stuff in this place anyway.”
Monica took the Playbill. “Thank you so much,” she said.
“Want to see a magic trick?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Jimmy showed her his hands. Nothing in them. Then he reached behind her ear and pulled out a shiny penny.
“Ta-da!”
He handed her the coin.
She studied it.
“Can you help me with something?” Monica asked. “It’s kind of a strange request.”
“Kid, this is Broadway. If it’s not strange, we don’t want it.”
“Can I place this above the door?”
He looked at the penny. Looked back at her and gave her a hint of a smile. “Sure, kid. Just a sec.” He picked up the stool and placed it under the door. It wobbled. He held it while she stood on her tiptoes. She had a flash of her brother helping her climb up onto the cafeteria’s roof. Her parents lifting her up into the olive trees. She was here, now, at the top of something fantastic. With a sense of urgency, she placed the penny. It made a flat clink.
“Got it!” As she leaned to climb down, the mysterious key on its chain slipped from where it was tucked away in her shirt into full view. Jimmy’s eyes went wide, and for an instant his face made an expression as if he were hallucinating. He hurriedly helped her down, and, looking straight into her eyes, he whispered, “Find it.”
What? What did he mean by that?
She quickly tucked the key back into its hiding spot, and Jimmy Onions turned toward his stool as if no words had ever been exchanged. Had she imagined it?
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