“We are an embarrassment! I can’t go onstage like that!” April said, holding back tears.
“Ever been to the Grand Canyon?” Hudson asked.
“What?” April turned visibly annoyed. “This is no time for joking.”
“I’m not joking. I feel like we’re at the Grand Canyon. Tied together traveling toward a cliff of disaster.”
They all slumped.
“It’s like the fortune-teller predicted,” April said.
They gave her a funny look.
“The other day, during our lunch break, I went to that fortune-teller around the corner. I should never have gone. I don’t even believe in that stuff… okay, maybe I do. But I didn’t want to believe what she told me.”
“What did she tell you?” Hudson asked, slipping on his loafers.
“She said there would be many obstacles in my future if the curse wasn’t broken. She actually said the word ‘curse.’ I hadn’t even told her I was an actor or that I was performing at the Ethel Merman. She just knew. Ever since she said that, I have been even more off than I already was. Now I think I’m cursing myself. Like the curse has spread from the Ethel Merman onto me!”
It was now getting close to dusk. They had been in Gino’s shop for longer than they’d expected. The lights of the city shone brighter. Theatergoing crowds were beginning to gather for dinner before heading to their shows.
As the kids started to walk back to the theater, Monica happened to look up and stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes went wide. So wide the other kids tracked where she was looking. It was a billboard across the street. But not just any billboard. All their eyes went wide too.
“The Our Time billboard! It’s been changed!” Relly said.
“What’s Ethel’s Equipment?” Hudson knew every inch of New York City and had never heard of that shop.
“So it’s true,” Monica whispered.
“What’s true?” April’s hands went on her hips.
“I can’t believe it…,” Monica said.
“What can’t you believe? Do you know something about this?” April said firmly to Monica.
“Several days ago, the day Hudson got stuck in the bathroom, I overheard Artie talking to a man in a suit about turning the Ethel Merman into a luxury hotel. But I didn’t think he’d actually do it, at least not before our production. I thought…” She stopped herself.
The four stood in silence.
“Well, see ya later, good night, good luck, and they all lived happily ever after, the end…,” said Hudson, turning to head home.
The three stood in silence. Hudson walked several paces before Monica’s face lit up.
“Wait. That’s it! And they all lived happily ever after,” Monica said with a snap.
The kids looked confused.
“Our show! It’s not about telling the story of saving the Tilt arcade.…”
“It isn’t?” Relly scratched his head.
“No, we’re here to tell the story about saving the Ethel Merman!” Monica jumped.
“Mise en abyme,” April said with a perfect French accent. “A story within a story.”
“Exactly! It’s Our Time: a group of kids go searching for how to save their subdivision from greedy developers. Except we’re also telling the story about saving our theater,” Relly said.
“From greedy developers!” they said together.
“But what’s the Ethel Merman’s story? What was its fall?” Hudson asked.
“You’re right, we don’t know the story,” April said.
“That’s what we need to find out,” Relly said.
“There’s something else I need to tell you.” Monica hesitated. “I wasn’t sure of it, I thought it was probably nothing… but I’m sure of it now.” Monica removed the key from her necklace and explained about the mysterious envelope at the front desk of her hotel the night she arrived.
“I thought it was just a key to my dressing room. I didn’t even think to try it until this morning when I got to the theater early. It didn’t fit the keyhole. Then I tried every door I could find in the Ethel Merman. Nothing. Not even close to a match.”
“Did you try the doors in your hotel?” Hudson asked.
“Every single one. Nothing.”
“Because that’s not a door key. It’s for something smaller,” Relly said. “And we are going to find out what it is.”
Nine NO ONE PANIC
The kids had split up into two groups. April and Hudson picked the short straw and started on the second floor, then the basement. Relly and Monica got the third and first floors.
“The theater is dark and empty,” Relly said in a detective’s voice. “We are trapped inside the Ethel Merman Theater.” He had pulled out an old-fashioned tape recorder from his backpack and was speaking into it as Monica followed closely behind. She angled the flashlight at his watch.
“We have now been inside the theater for fifty-seven minutes, looking for the mysterious key’s lock,” Monica said in her own version of a detective’s voice. “What does it open, and why? Will we ever find out?” Monica turned to Relly. “What else?”
“The temperature,” he said in a whisper.
“Right: the temperature,” she repeated, also in a whisper. “It’s dropping.” They were in the center of the lobby now, determining where to look next.
“What does the coat room have to offer?” Relly recorded. “What could be under the stairs?” They passed a mirror, and, catching his reflection, he noted: “Why is Relly Morton so devilishly handsome?”
Monica laughed. Relly had many talents, but Monica decided that his ability to find humor in stressful situations was one of his greatest talents of all. She could learn a thing or two from him. Suddenly, the lights, which had been off, started to flicker on. They both felt an eerie sensation surround them; the room felt even colder.
“There’s a presence here,” Monica whispered to Relly.
“I feel it too.” He was slightly alarmed by the lights flickering, but he didn’t show his fear to Monica. “They’re just lights—they go on and off from time to time. Old theaters,” Relly said to assure both himself and Monica.
Monica nodded. “I’m going to go look in the orchestra pit,” she said.
Right as Monica left, Relly suddenly heard a ghostly voice say: “Adventure is always in store!”
Relly was a logical person: there were no such things as ghosts. Maybe certain energies that grew in intensity from time to time, but actual floating sheets? Naw. He shook his head to rid himself of the image. But he heard it again: “Never say die!” This time, the voice was louder, closer. A finger tapped his shoulder, and Relly clutched his recorder but dropped his flashlight. Relly screamed and realized it was April, who screamed too. Somewhere in the distance a faint scream came from within the theater. It was Monica.
“April, did you see it? I think it was a ghost talking to me.”
“Was it saying ‘Adventure is always in store’?” asked April.
“Yes!”
April rolled her eyes. “That was me, silly. I was channeling Our Time.”
Adventure is always in store was the motto the kids would repeat throughout the show.
“I knew that…,” Relly said, embarrassed at how obvious it should have been.
Monica raced back. “Maybe we could search the orchestra pit together.”
“I still don’t get why we had to split up,” Hudson said through heavy breaths. He’d come from the basement shortly behind April.
“Did you find anything in the front of the house?” April asked Relly and Monica.
“Nothing in the lobby, the coatroom, or the stairs leading to the balcony level. You find anything?” Relly asked.
“Nothing,” said Hudson.
No mystery keyholes anywhere. They slumped down on the stairs, discouraged, exhausted, and hungry.
“You win, Ethel!” April said to the golden Ethel statue at the top of the stairs, frozen in its glorious pose of joy.
<
br /> They sat for a moment; then they all turned and looked at the Ethel Merman statue.
They kept their eyes on it for several beats. Monica cocked her head. Hudson cocked his head. Relly leaned toward it with a furrowed brow. April’s mouth fell open.
“The Ethel Merman statue!” they said together.
They scrabbled up the stairs toward it.
April reread Ethel Merman’s quote:
“ ‘Be yourself; it’s the one thing you can do better than anyone else.’ ”
“Is it a clue?” Relly asked.
“I think it’s just good advice.” Hudson moved closer. “Maybe her arms move.” They didn’t.
“Or her foot.” April tried to twist. Nothing.
They looked top to toe for anything that resembled a keyhole.
The wind started to blow outside.
Nothing on the statue shifted or moved or seemed unusual.
“What’s this?” Monica said, examining the lettering of the quotation. “Relly, shine your light a little closer.”
In the quote written on the plaque underneath the statue, the B in the word “Be” looked slightly odd, with two notches cut into the bronze. “It’s a keyhole. The keyhole!” Monica quickly grabbed for the small golden key around her neck. Her hands trembled as her fingers searched for the clasp. Nervousness. Excitement. Fear. She had a flash of Freddy, her parents, her abuelita. She shoved fear down, pinched the clasp, threaded the key off her lucky chain, and went straight for the lock.
Relly held the light like he was holding a fire hose. “Go!” The lights in the theater flickered, and a rumbling of thunder outside was accompanied by flashes of lightning that blinked through different windows like an arcade game. In an instant, the theater felt like a howling wilderness. She slid the key in and it clicked into place.
She drew a long, deep breath and squared her eyes at the words “Be yourself” before twisting. The lock was attached to a door, which opened to a little compartment of blackness. Monica’s hand went in and came out with a small, white piece of folded paper. She held it for a moment like a precious gift. Her body shook.
“Who wants to read it?” she asked.
“You read it. The key was given to you!” April said.
Relly aimed his light onto the stark white paper. Monica opened the note intently, unfolding each layer with care, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, looked at the words. She crouched with a puzzled look on her face, the note wide open in her palms like a world laid flat.
“What does it say?” everyone asked anxiously.
Relly’s flashlight cast an eerie shadow under Monica’s face.
“It says, ‘Happy Birthday,’ ” Monica said with confusion.
The wind outside eased; the lights stopped flickering. Relly inspected the note, the handwriting, the color of the ink, the paper. The handwriting wasn’t familiar. “Standard chicken scratch,” Relly said. The paper and ink seemed fresh.
“Is it your birthday?” he asked.
“Not until June,” Monica said.
“Is it any one of our birthdays?” April asked. It wasn’t.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Hudson said loudly, looking at the frozen Ethel statue.
They slumped back on the stairs. A good long minute passed, almost a lifetime for April to have not said one single word, but their current situation left even her speechless. Then they heard a rustling sound.
“What was that?” whispered Relly, flicking off his flashlight to hide their presence. They heard sounds of movement. The kids sat frozen in the pitch-blackness, too afraid to move, scream, or even turn their heads ever-so-slightly to look at one another. All their expressions were the same: stone-cold fear.
Hudson whispered, “I told you this place was haunted.” A thud. Then another. The kids jumped. Something was happening in the auditorium. Onstage.
“Let’s go see.” April led them quietly toward the back of the auditorium to get a better look.
The ghost light had been turned off and placed to the side of the stage. A shadow crept. Then there was a click, click, click, and mumbling. The shadow bent over. Click, click, click again. Then a small light appeared. The clicking was a lighter lighting a candle. Then several candles of varying heights were placed in the middle of the stage. Another shadow moved in, carrying a chair. Then another, with two chairs. They formed a tight circle of a dozen chairs around the center of candles. The chairs filled with shadows in the silence. It was strange and beautiful.
The original shadow spoke.
“Welcome back,” the female voice said calmly.
It was hard for the kids to hear, so they edged closer without being seen.
The voice continued to talk, but it was difficult for the kids to make out what she was saying.
“Wait, is that Amanda’s voice?” April whispered.
They edged even closer, and now they could make out faces. It was Amanda, the original shadow. Next to her was Maria. Also in the circle were a few adult actors from the cast, Chris from the wig room, Miss Susan, and a couple of musicians from the orchestra.
“Even Mr. Fernando?” Relly said. It was hard to comprehend.
Those onstage held hands as Amanda led them in soft chanting.
“It’s a séance!” Relly said eagerly. He held his recorder toward the voices. “But I can’t tell what they’re saying.”
Then came humming, like fingers moving around crystal glasses.
“They’re channeling the spirit of the Ethel Merman,” Relly guessed.
“Or spirits,” Hudson said.
The chanting and humming lasted for ten minutes. Then they sat silently. Nothing happened.
Then, as quietly as they had arrived, they got up, removed the chairs, blew out the candles, placed the ghost light back in its spot and turned it on. Then the adults left.
“What is going on?” April asked.
The kids looked at one another without being able to answer the question.
“Nothing happened,” Hudson said.
They went onstage to examine things further. The waterfall had a slight trickle.
“Meh,” Hudson said. “Did they think a séance would get the waterfall to work?”
“Can someone please tell me what’s up with the waterfall anyway?” Monica said, a little annoyed.
“Ah, the waterfall saga,” Hudson began with a professorial tone. “So long ago, yet so very very recent.”
“The second day we arrived for rehearsal,” April started, “when Tabitha was still here, there was a fire in the wig room. We were rehearsing onstage with Maria when Chris came running onstage yelling that the wigs were on fire.”
Relly chimed in, “Then the sprinklers onstage went off. Then all the sprinklers in the entire theater went off, just from one little curling iron. We had to evacuate the building, and two fire trucks came.”
“It was actually kind of exciting for our first week,” April said, then paused. “We didn’t know about the curse then, and we didn’t know what would follow.”
Hudson continued: “The fire was contained quickly—a few wigs were destroyed. But”—Hudson hung on the word for a moment—“just as the fire marshal walked out of the theater to declare the place safe, boom!”
Relly shook his head. “The waterfall saga.”
“What was the boom?” Monica asked.
“A bunch of buckets on the fly system filled with water from the sprinklers. They were on pulleys, and the weight of the water pulled down the buckets, which somehow managed to dislodge an eight-hundred-pound ballast from the rig,” said Relly.
Monica didn’t quite understand.
“The ballast landed right on the perfectly working, gleaming, shiny new waterfall just brought in from Chicago.”
“No!” Monica said.
“Yes.” Hudson shivered.
“Nobody,” Relly whispered, “not even the fire marshal, had ever seen anything like it. There was no explanation for how six small bucket
s of water could take down an eight-hundred-pound ballast.”
“Artie’s face,” Hudson said with sadness, “it was white. Pale as a ghost.”
“He didn’t think the curse would affect his production. He thought we would escape it and save the theater. But he knew in that moment that this curse was going to bring him down,” April said.
“And everyone else with him,” Relly finished.
“A week later, Tabitha was gone, and things went downhill from there,” Hudson said.
The lights flickered again.
Something groaned nearby.
“It’s just the wind,” Monica said firmly. But she wasn’t sure she even believed herself.
* * *
On her way home from the theater, Monica called Marissa and told her everything. The curse, the accidents, the mystery key, the birthday message.
“Mo, that’s out of a movie! Have you told your abuelita?” Marissa asked.
“No,” Monica replied.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to upset her. She’s so excited about my Broadway debut. I think it would crush her spirit to know the theater is cursed.”
There was a long pause on the other end.
Then Marissa said, “It’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“That this curse thing is happening to you,” Marissa answered.
“What do you mean, happening to me?” Monica sounded offended.
“You know, with your family’s history and everything,” Marissa said.
“What do you mean, my family’s history?”
“Oh, um…” Marissa paused.
“What do you mean, my family’s history!” Monica repeated.
“It’s just a story your father once told my father. I don’t really know much about it.”
“Well, tell me what you do know,” Monica said firmly.
Thirteen days until opening night
“I checked three things off my bucket list yesterday,” Monica’s abuelita said Saturday morning as she poured hot water into Styrofoam cups of instant oatmeal. Monica smiled, but she wasn’t really listening.
“First I went down to Wall Street. Then I visited Chinatown, got you and your brother a few souvenirs.” She pointed to a full bag next to the sleeper sofa. “And then I went to Coney Island in Brooklyn and rode the Cyclone!”
Fearless Page 9
